HE WAITS, SEETHING // BLOOMING | WEEKLY TASKS

[Wolfsbane]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]A couple hours had passed since Wolfsbane had hosted the meeting, addressing both familiar and unfamiliar faces alike. The rugged man was now outside the hotel, nearby the city’s cemetery, a place of great respect and cultivation. Although the group had expanded in numbers, it still needed to be maintained in an equally growing manner. To solve this issue, here Bane stood, ready to dole out some tasks for the city dwellers to accomplish.

”Weekly tasks are being held here,” The druglord announced, running a calloused hand over his jawline, tracing the end and beginning of his peppered colored beard. Golden eyes glowed in the bask of the evening sun, skin warm, the edges of orange light illuminating his form and those around him as they gathered.

”Speak up if you’d like to be assigned a task, and-slash-or help with giving out invitations,” He paused, going over the scenes in his head, before adding, ”Keep in mind you are not permitted to unnerve our potential allies if giving out invites. I don’t want to hear stories of you scaring the children there.” It just seemed necessary for the leader to say so, having gotten to know many of the group members to be troublesome in that department. Despite his warning tone, there were traces of humor interwoven, like a tired father of a regularly hyperactive child.

[ABD AL-MALIK]

[align=center][div style="width: 530px; text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 13px; letter-spacing: .3px; line-height: 1.15; padding: 4px;"]( ooc: this is a terrible post )

Anyone who knew anything about Abd al-Malik knew that he wasn't suited for a group in which warnings had to be issued to remind its members not to frighten the children of other civilisations, but he suspected that such a caution wasn't meant for him. It went without saying that Los Santos' population as a whole likely wasn't the greatest to use in diplomatic relations, but without any alternatives, Wolfsbane had little choice but to remind them to keep their claws and teeth to themselves while speaking to potential allies. (That didn't make the necessity of a group-wide prompt for good behaviour any less amusing, and he grinned at the thought.)

"I'll help," Abd al-Malik offered, hands in his pockets to keep himself from gesturing. "I can go to, to, to other groups, anddd...." his fingers curled restlessly for a moment before he abandoned searching for the word he'd originally wanted to use- "and help here."

[Devilad]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: nyala; font-size: 9.2pt; line-height: 12px; color: #000"]As Time fondly brushes against their soft / rough skin, the couple walks over to where the call for volunteers was made, with the lover waving towards Wolfbanes and Abd al-Malik in greeting / the loner staring at the ground in...something. Duality at its finest. “We’ll just take the task, Bane!,” chirps the lover. “You know the lad over here.” A poke to the sore hips. ”I don’t think it’ll be able to control itself when it wants to scare people like it’s Halloween already!”

Through the laughter created from lovely lungs, the loner hisses at them, but its narrowed eyes does not match the irritation it expelled of when affection gleams in them. A pair of lights in the dark, faint, but existing nevertheless. To it, everyone but the lover wears a blurry face. All eyes white, only there are teeth, teeth, teeth. Kill, kill, kill. If it can not find itself willing to drop its knees to anyone of Los Santos, why bother with those who weeps and bleeds just as easily as those here that is dearly dubbed Hell?

Of course, of course, the lover understands its paranoia. Though, they loves and loves and loves, they also come to an awareness that this world bears the mouth of Death: teeth akin to trees, diseases akin to creatures, tongue akin to lands. Ever are they roaming across the gaping jaws, dressed in tender flesh and rich organs for Death to feed upon with empty eyes and decayed heart. They only hopes for love in return, but they understands. Compassion forms between eyelashes for the loner as they watches it glance away from them. Lights out.

The lover tenderly slips the other’s fingers with their own, locking reassurance between warmth and cold. It shakes, but they both do not flinch, unperturbed. The lover faces back to Wolfsbane with a small smile, nodding as they accepts whatever he will have in mind for them. Anything that can bring some sort of comfort to the loner.

[CAUSTIC]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;font-size:9.2pt; text-align:justify"]Buncha fuckin' weirdos here already. The first guy -shit, if he'd learned his name he didn't remember it- went a little too nicely about it all. Caustic and nice didn't get along, mostly because he just couldn't stomach that shit. There was a reason he spent most of his time around Volatile, and why their names were more like warning labels than titles, but Caustic could behave himself for a little while. Wouldn't stop him from thinking what he wanted, though, especially about the people already here- save for maybe Wolfsbane. The other two around, who he definitely didn't fucking know, were far too lovey-dovey for his tastes, so he largely ignored them, glancing up at the boss in between cleaning one of V's tiger claws.

Proper weapon maintenance was important. Fucker hadn't done it himself.

"Me 'n Volatile could head out for you. I'll make sure he behaves." He gave the claws a hard look under the light, checking for any spots he might've missed before redirecting back to Wolfsbane, grinning crookedly. "Maybe someone'll trade a few things with me. Can't boil cloth for bandages forever, unless somebody wants to donate a shirt." Caustic sure as hell didn't have any without holes.

"Need anything finished here, I can take care of that too."

[VOLATILE]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 9.2pt; line-height: 1.4;"]It wasn't just C that didn't bother with names. V knows a few of them — Bane mostly (kinda hard to ignore the boss), but the Abd guy too. Sounds like someone fucked up saying "bad", which is the only reason he gives a shit about it. Makes him laugh. That's all most people are good for: a laugh or a fight. The first few strangers are funny, but Caustic — that asshole's the latter all the way. He woke up to one of his weapons missing, a curved bagh nakh that fit perfectly against his fingers. Yeah it was fucking gross, yeah people who got cut with it would probably end up dying of infection. That was the fucking point. They weren't supposed to be shiny, and he knows there's only one person brave enough to try and make them shiny.

The first thing Volatile does is punch his shoulder, hard, and the second is to twist and grapple for his weapon back, uncaring of the gouges his own claws might leave. Caustic's patched up worse on him, whether or not he liked it. "Give that back you fucking —" he cuts himself off with a growling hiss, giving C one final shove. "I don't need a leash, boss." But maybe the idea of seeing the other groups with C isn't all that bad. "Could use some trading though," he admits reluctantly, "shirts are already in short supply without fucking Hannibal over here."

[marsy]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8.2pt; line-height: 1.2; letter-spacing: 0.7px; word-spacing: 1px;"]WITH A ROLL OF HIS EYES at a couple of the others—we all know who—Roswell stepped up close to the druglord. He was grateful that Bane was giving everyone something to do, so he could better avoid the people he didn't yet trust, and so he wasn't just sat fiddling his thumbs ( or his knives ).

He wasn't the type to get antsy or fidgety, but he was itching for something to do. He didn't relax. Relaxing made him nervous, and he didn't like being nervous, either.

With a small smile towards Bane, Roswell waited patiently for the others to finish before he spoke up. "I'll gladly take whatever task I can get. I can help deliver invitations, too. I'd love to help in any way I can."

He had no troubles not scaring children, and anyone that did scare children on purpose was immediately on his mental list. Kids were the only thing good left in the world other than animals and nature, and it'd been that way long before the blackout and long before he'd been born.

[honey j.]

[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; text-align: justify; width: 435px; font-size: 8pt; color: #808080; line-height: 120%; font-family: arial; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 1.5px;"]—-  & stepping up beside roswell, the young girl crossed her arms over her chest with a usual frown across her face. her eyes fell on the two bickering men and a huff was her only response. he was grateful the dude beside her and abd al-malik weren't like that - they seemed pretty chill from what she could tell.

honey wasn't sure if she was going to be allowed to send out an invitation to any groups considering her age, but if that was the case she was most definitely going to lose it. there was nothing worse than being underestimated, especially since she knew she was stronger than she appeared. ❝ hey, give me something too. i'm capable of giving out invitations, dude. ❞ honey used to address those older than her with proper manners - ma'am, mister, sir - but now she could care less about being mannerly. ❝ i'm sure i can get something done faster than those two, ❞ honey adds with a little smile on her face.

[Wolfsbane]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify; line-height: 110%;"]The contrast in the cast of characters in Los Santos always brought amusement to Bane. Their personalities clashed and bickering and shoving always seemed to occur, but their differences were also necessary. Though they all looked like a ragtag group of messes, Bane found it easy to see each of their talents and skills that others lacked, so together forming a team that had the potential to actually function quite well.

Wolfsbane first addressed Malik, nodding his head in greeting to the man. He was of great intelligence and was very level-headed, qualities that Bane valued, especially as a member of this violent group. ”Malik, I’d like you to send an invitation to Bluestem Prairie. When you come back, if you’d like a task, the cemetery is in need of some upkeep. Picking up any litter, trimming the hedges, pulling weeds. It would help greatly,” The cemetery was a place of great honor in Los Santos. Wolfsbane had buried multiple former Los Santos members there, and so the area was of great importance. If Bane could trust anyone to tread lightly and respect the grounds, it would be Malik.

Next, he turned to the couple that seemed to embody yin and yang. Though the loner was a bit odd, a bit hard around the edges, the lover was anything but. Bane greeted them with a smile and a dip of his head. The lover was nothing but supportive and cheery towards Bane, a refreshing and heart-warming kindness the man was grateful for. ”It’s time to shine will come soon enough though,” He responded with a small smile. He knew the loners skills to be worthy of great praise in times of danger, and though it was more accustomed to bloodshed than small talk, Bane respected it for its capabilities. ”We need to harvest the buds in our greenhouse. I know it’s tedious work, but I figure you two could take to it, if you’d like?” Bane figured it was better to assign such a task to a couple that could converse and have fun while doing it than sending someone on their lonesome.

Then came the two that provided a large chunk of Bane’s entertainment around the group. Caustic and Volatile. The two argued like brothers, but each equipped great skills that easily made up for their bickering. He waited for them to finish, offering only a light amused scoff as they finished speaking. ”I’d like you two to go to Flintlock Lodge to deliver an invitation. They’re one of the major groups, so please, present yourselves accordingly,” He eyed V briefly, humor in his eyes. ”As for tasks, Caustic, I know you have some medical experience. If you could perform a routine check up on all the dogs around here, that would be great. Need to make sure they’re all healthy.” He then turned to Volatile. ”V, if you want a task, I’d like you to host a training event. You can choose what form of combat you’d like to present. We just need to make sure everyone’s got some combat knowledge under their belts,” He glanced to the rest of the group, ”If we’re going to be making allies, we’re going to be making enemies. I want everyone knowing how to defend themselves at least.” He looked back to V with a nod.

Bane looked towards Roswell, one of his close friends. He returned the man’s smile, happy to see the other. ”Ros, I think you should take an invite to Northstar District,” Roswell was someone Bane trusted greatly, and so he had no worries about sending the man alone- Bane was positive he could take care of himself and avoid danger. ”As for a task, I’d like if you could host a small event for the group. I think we could all use a fun little activity to lighten our spirits and help us get along too.” Bane hoped the field day event would do this too, but the pressure of getting along with other groups and presenting themselves as a strong group was a bit laborious. Something for just Los Santos to do would certainly help to bring them all together and ease themselves.

Lastly was Honey, a young girl that Bane found amusing. She was fiercely independent and stubborn, traits Bane himself had. He admired the girl’s independence greatly. ”Alright, sounds fair enough. Honey, I’d like you to tag along with Malik to give an invitation to Bluestem,” The hostility that Honey was capable of was an opposite to Malik’s composed nature. Hopefully they’d balance each other out. Plus, Bluestem was known to be a friendly group, so he did not worry about sending Honey into danger. ”Also, I know you’re good with the dogs, so if you’d like to host a training event with them, that would be great. You can teach them some new commands and then host an event to show everyone else these new commands.”

[CAUSTIC]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;font-size:9.2pt; text-align:justify"]Volatile's appearance wasn't a surprise. Wasn't like Caustic had been hiding from him- he wasn't the one who liked stashing himself away in partially collapsed buildings to hide his wounds. Maybe lick them literally. Hadn't caught him at that yet, because Volatile didn't get severely injured all that often, unfortunately. His tiger claws made him a pretty fierce opponent, even against people with guns. Didn't take much to disarm someone taking a few fingers, but his appreciation of Volatile's penchant for gore didn't mean he had rose-colored glasses what came along with it. Caustic loved a good fight, same as V did- they just pressed each other's buttons a little too well, and winding down took time they did not have when there was work to do. Opportunistic fucker knew that, too.

Dark brows furrowed, mouth frowning when Volatile struck his shoulder and wrestled for his claws back, earning a few scrapes on his palms for his trouble. "Who's the dumbass now? Better not have put another hole in this. Got plenty of 'em already." He straightened out the fishnet top pointedly, and stepped with the shove, which he met by jamming several vicious fingers into V's ribs. "Shirt's worth more than you are." Still, didn't keep Caustic from settling into place next to him, arms crossed and gaze back on Wolfsbane.

So they did get to pay someone a visit. Flintlock Lodge. Sounded...cold, if his experience with lodges meant anything. "Don't worry, I'll shove him in a bath. Put a li'l soap in his mouth for good measure." He grinned again, broader, with far more teeth, knowing Volatile'd only hit him again. As though V was the only one in the duo who caused trouble. Better some people thought he was, though. More fun that way.

Dogs though. That'd be nice. Wouldn't have to put up with poking Volatile- shithead was too stubborn for his own good, so checking for any unaddressed cuts usually meant giving him a few more just to get him to sit still for a damn minute.

Note to self: look into tranquilizers.

"Sure thing, boss man. Pooches'll be the healthiest in miles. 'N like I said, don't worry about Flintlock. I'll send Volatile to train with the dogs. Won't need a leash if you can heel," he said the last while glancing over at the other man with a sharp glint in his eye.

[ABD AL-MALIK]

[align=center][div style="width: 530px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: .3px; line-height: 1.3; padding: 4px;"]Caustic and Volatile. Two who probably thought they looked dangerous — felt it, too, if their names were anything to go by. Don’t get too close, I’m destructive. In truth, it was a little ridiculous. Renaming was nothing uncommon, but sometimes, people tried too hard. Were they not real, he’d not be surprised to see them in a comic book as the clearly-overdone villains that spat acid and tried to be harder than they actually were. Either that, or the creation of teenagers caught within their angstiest phase of life, pouring their souls out into dark characters they believed were complex in their criminality but… weren’t.

It’d make him laugh if he wasn’t so keen to avoid a fight. Not with them specifically, but with anybody here. Abd al-Malik was no pushover, but that didn’t mean he flashed his weapons and glared like he was issuing a challenge to everyone who came within ten metres of him. Wolfsbane emphasised a feeling of brotherhood whether he could share in the sentiment or not, and he planned on upholding it. Sure, these people thought they were better in a sense, but that didn't mean he had to forget them. It didn't help to dismiss your colleagues, especially when they could easily flip to the other side. (Not that he was scared of the possibility of becoming their enemy. He didn't tend to think in such childish terms anyway, but watching some of them bicker... he didn't think he had to worry. Edgelord 1 was pissed because Edgelord 2 had taken his claws. If Abd al-Malik were in that position, he'd just trade them out for a gun, but maybe that way of thinking was why he'd rebranded himself Corrosive.)

Not to say he wasn't loyal to them, in the same way a drafted soldier was loyal to his country. Abd al-Malik huffed, barely audible, and turned to Wolfsbane. Bluestem Prairie sounded peaceful — open, rolling plains — and he didn't envy those who had to deal with the frigid temperatures of Flintlock Lodge or the unpredictability of the Badlands (not that they were any worse than Los Santos; Abd al-Malik would put his own group further down). Having a tagalong wasn't something he was opposed to either, though he doubted Honey would be as please. She seemed particularly steadfast in her opposition of bending to authority, and even more steadfast in her distaste of adult men, and Abd al-Malik wasn't old, but he certainly wasn't a child anymore. He offered her a smile, knowing he'd be doing most of the talking at Bluestem if Wolfsbane truly wanted to keep an easy peace.

The task at home was easy enough too, though the honour wasn't lost on him. The cemetery was treated with an almost holy reverence, and he wasn't keen on implying that Wolfsbane's trust was misplaced — Abd al-Malik knew the importance of the dead, had known it even before joining Los Santos. With the clamouring of voices becoming near-impossible to cut through, Abd al-Malik nodded an affirmative at Wolfsbane instead of adding to the mix.