saw death on a sunny snow - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: saw death on a sunny snow (/showthread.php?tid=14001) |
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- Vheissu - 12-30-2010 [html]
[/html] - Miriette morte dre Soul - 12-31-2010 [html] OOC: Sorry if this is a little confusing. This is my first post with this character, omnom. :3 Trying to get a feel for her. The evening drew to a heavy close around the Dampwoods, the ever soaked ground freezing as the temperatures dropped lower and lower beneath ever bruising skies. The cold had no effect on the thick-furred hybrid as she crept through the treeline, silently, carefully, eyes always on the prize. She was painstakingly keeping downwind of her target as he finally seemed to give up and stop, that vast determination decaying into simple confusion. Bloody reds and painful violets clashed before dying sun, wrapping the trees and the pair of mixed breed canines in a burst of wild, vibrant shades. Chocolate pelt glowed warm hues in the multi-colored dapples of the gently shivering trees, while silvery orbs alighted upon the ginger fellow bent over his pack. A wicked grin slipped softly across wolven cream maw. A man lost in the growing darkness of a winter's night? Easy prey... Dark chocolate fingers twined into ebony locks, playing for a moment with the end of the loose ponytail. Did she want prey? No longer did Miriette feel the lust for blood of another, but that didn't keep her attitude out of the red zone. What was he doing out here that had kept him so interested in his tracking? She'd only been following him a minute or two before he'd stopped, interested in his pack of things and the strange determination he exhibited as he went. Whatever the fellow was up to, it appeared to be important. Not that it mattered at all to Miri. The Soul descendant was bored on her walk back to Phoenix Valley, and her nerves were growing to be a touch frayed as she got closer. Really, one would have thought the Luperci miss was incapable of getting nervous- but when it came to the Valley pack and its scarred leader- her father as it were- even Miriette found herself a bit unsettled. She had been intent on killing the man only a short while ago, after all, and here she was returning with hope- could it be called hope? Hope that Jefferson Soul wouldn't harbor any hard feelings for her actions then. She had matured, after all, and now felt comfortable enough in her own skin to believe it was time to return. She watched from her post against a large boulder, as the ginger male began to smoke. Nasty habit, that was, but Miri didn't mind partaking in it socially... so she was less than bothered with it. The wind changed directions, awarding the brute a good whiff of the coy-wolf's scent, though Miri seemed to care less, climbing up onto the boulder she had been behind to lay out on the chilled stone, gaze settled firmly on the traveling male. "Let me guess. You're not lost, right?" Said she, Québecois-esque french accent darting over her somewhat bored words. He could answer or ignore her, his choice, but she wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Talk. Think. Walk. .garishpum b {font-weight:bold; color:#d41102; letter-spacing:1px; } .garishpum i {font-style:italic; color:#d41102; letter-spacing:1px; } .garishpum-ooc {font-style:italic; padding:5px; font-family:times new roman; font-size:10px; color:#d41102; text-align:right;} .garishpum p {text-indent:5px; padding:5px 5px; margin:5px;} .garishpum {margin:10px auto; width:370px; background-color:#fa9b0e; background-image:url(http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/7248/miritable1.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #d41102; padding: 10px 0px 300px 0px; font-family:times new roman; font-size:12px; color:#724a48; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Vheissu - 12-31-2010 [html]
[/html] - Miriette morte dre Soul - 12-31-2010 [html] OOC: Cx Why thankies! Same for you. Miri watched with mild intrigue as the man eyed her a moment, calm, light metallic gaze searching mahogany hues for his reaction. She rather enjoyed reactions, particularly those from men and interesting sorts, when she managed to play the sneaky, coy lady prowling for social interaction. This brute, though, with his graceful stature and rusty hide, offered little in the manner of a reaction, only taking another drag of his cig and looking at her again. Miriette felt almost disappointed. Almost. If he didn't feel like being fun and making startled faces or gawking at the chocolate furred female for her somewhat provocative position, well... that was his problem. She shifted upon her rock, tail curling in an almost dog-like manner. Ebony dipped harks swiveled forward as gruff voice left slender, red-marked maw, their owner simply watching. Of course he wasn't lost. Men never wanted to admit they had no idea where in the world they were. Miriette, well, she was born here in Nova Scotia. There was not a single place that held no memory for the hybrid female within a few hundred acres, it was likely- especially here, within the Dampwoods. She had grown up here- not a single leaf was unknown. The coywolf cocked her head at the now silent brute, slight amusement crossing her more wolfish features. Coyote's build finally rose from its place atop the now warmed stone, creamy maw creased in a slightly wicked smile to be lost in the falling darkness. Gaze rose to the skies as the defiant rays of their flaming star pulsed into hues of crimson and maroon, pooling into the ever darkening navy mantle draping itself over their world. Still the silence ensued, until Miriette leaped off her perch, alighting gracefully upon dark paws and slender hands, sending a rustling breeze through the hibernating plant life. As she stood, the man stood, and she prepared to continue her tracking of the canine prey that now knew of its predator. He offered her a glance as she twined dark fingers behind raven head, arms raised to cup the sides of her head. Of course she was going to follow him, silly paranoid man. "Well then, monsieur not-lost, dare I ask where are you going?" Her quebec accent lilted softly over her words as she reached his side. If he was heading to Phoenix Valley like she was, it wouldn't hurt to travel with him, right? Talk. Think. Walk. .garishpum b {font-weight:bold; color:#d41102; letter-spacing:1px; } .garishpum i {font-style:italic; color:#d41102; letter-spacing:1px; } .garishpum-ooc {font-style:italic; padding:5px; font-family:times new roman; font-size:10px; color:#d41102; text-align:right;} .garishpum p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 5px; margin:5px;} .garishpum {margin:10px auto; width:370px; background-color:#fa9b0e; background-image:url(http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/7248/miritable1.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #d41102; padding: 10px 0px 300px 0px; font-family:times new roman; font-size:12px; color:#724a48; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Vheissu - 12-31-2010 [html]
[/html] - Miriette morte dre Soul - 12-31-2010 [html] OOC: x3 Ah, the silence. Had he not responded before, Miriette might have thought the man disliked her presence and wished her gone. She almost believed he did anyway, judging by the scowl'd expression and gruff answers. A hermit, maybe? All the more fun to play with later. Hermits tended to be unsocial and easily frustrated. But this fellow, he seemed like a rather boring hermit. Smoking and clipped idle conversation didn't make one a social butterfly, after all. It made one the villain sitting at a table playing cards with washed up actors and old men. He spoke, ebony satellites swiveled to his voice while an invisible smile escaped across the length of widened fairy maw. He was going to Phoenix Valley after all... Steely gaze looked shortly back at the hybrid male, searching his eyes for a physical reaction. Still nothing wild and interesting for the coywolf could be found. Perhaps she hadn't been forward enough yet. At least he was speaking to her, if only in clipped sentences. "Ah. Phoenix Valley... pretty place in the spring." Could she really call it home? Having only lived there a short while, with the majority of it engulfed by revenge-driven plots to slay the Phoenix Valley leader, an amnesiac murderer, her estranged father. The chocolate hued man was many things to Miriette, but what she would tell this stranger involved none of it. "Now why would you be going there? Planning on joining?" That was her reason, anyway. His would hopefully be more interesting than that. As they padded along, Miri contemplated the hybrid brute's appearance, deriving his coyote heritage with little qualm, to say the least. The other part, that was tougher- some sort of dog, she decided, for his pelt to be colored in the manner it was, and for the amusing curl to his tail. She absently wished for hair colored like his, but soon dismissed it. She was shaded as her father was, much to the initial dismay of a young Miriette, but to the elder woman's advantage. She fit in better this way. The cherry red brute beside her, well, he would stick out like a sore thumb. Boy was he lucky. She chuckled quietly at the thought of standing out color-wise as she did in terms of her personality. Stubborn, wily, forward. Quiet at the moment. She would have to fix that after she'd finished feeling out the expressionless redhead beside her. "Do you ever do anything other than scowl?" She asked pointedly, head leaned to one side to stare at his handsome facade. Really, you would think the man capable of more than a slanted lip and squinty eyes. Bother him. At least she was having some fun. Creamy maw upturned once again to the heavens, admiring for a moment the darkened shades of the dying day before settling once again ahead of her. Finally she lowered her arms from their position behind her head, and instead twined them behind her back, the slender fingers settling just above kit-like tail. Talk. Think. Walk. .garishpum b {font-weight:bold; color:#d41102; letter-spacing:1px; } .garishpum i {font-style:italic; color:#d41102; letter-spacing:1px; } .garishpum-ooc {font-style:italic; padding:5px; font-family:times new roman; font-size:10px; color:#d41102; text-align:right;} .garishpum p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 5px; margin:5px;} .garishpum {margin:10px auto; width:370px; background-color:#fa9b0e; background-image:url(http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/7248/miritable1.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #d41102; padding: 10px 0px 300px 0px; font-family:times new roman; font-size:12px; color:#724a48; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Vheissu - 12-31-2010 [html]
[/html] - Miriette morte dre Soul - 12-31-2010 [html] OOC: Lalalala! His laugh, unexpected and short and hollow, startled the earthy toned damsel, and she found herself staring at the man with a gaze fit to stick that way. What on earth was so funny about that? She frowned at him, eyebrows crawling together in a scowl at the center of her forehead. Joining a pack got luperci through the winter, alliances protected loners from those out to cause harm. Really, being in a pack tended to be more intelligent than slugging yourself along alone... and it allowed for more constant company. Miri really was a social thing, after all... thoughts paused in their track as he spoke, her face growing blank for a moment before another frown plastered itself across her muzzle. Ma'am. One slender eyebrow rose in distaste. Ma'am. Really? Did she really look that old? Her self-inflicted stab at her youthfulness was lost on the male as he continued his reply. Looking for someone, eh? It was hard to look for someone these days, even if they were right under your nose. She'd lived under her father's nose for months and he hadn't grasped it- but then again, the amnesiac alpha didn't even remember himself, so he couldn't really count. Miriette leaned in close, brashly invading personal space laws without even a second thought. "Looking for someone, hmm...?" She said, hot breath misting over crimson fur, "And who might that be?" Certainly wasn't her... and if the person the wanderer sought was in Phoenix Valley, she could only guess based on what he might say next. Slate orbs roved the length of his fiery face and chest from this new vantage point, even straying to other places on the male's form, obviously appreciating the color and the... assets beneath the shade. "Love the fur." She said matter-of-factly, a slightly hungry grin passing over creamy maw for but a moment. "Is your quarry similarly... colored?" Oh no, she wasn't subtle. At all. Never really was great at being such. If he didn't like her appreciation of his form, well, he could go fuck himself. Her thoughts then changed from his body to the idea of another similarly shaded man. What an interesting sight that would be, a pair of sunset-matching Southern men side-by-side. Smoking hot and exotic, the pair of hybrids would be, and that there would be a pair was even more awesome-inducing. Miri absently wondered where in the South he was from before returning to her own bubble, giving the self-proclaimed hermit some space. That was enough space invading for her, judging by his thusfar bothersome lack of physical response. Honestly, didn't this guy have expressions other than serious-scowl face? She glanced sideways at him before looking forward again, seemingly content for the moment. Until he opened his maw to answer her last question. Cheeky bastard. "I'd have thought you scowled in your sleep as well." He certainly seemed the type- grumpy in the morning, noon, and evening, and even in the depths of his sub-conscious mind. Bother, that wouldn't be any fun. Miriette changed the position of her hands again, once more crossing them behind her head, pert breasts accented by the rising movements of her limbs. Graceful gait offered little reprieve from the overall shape of Miriette's slender form, though her slightly agitated twitching tail likely detracted from the sultry factor. Entirely not purposeful, Miriette seemed to pose herself for the redhead to return her earlier gazes. Perhaps effective, perhaps not, but nonetheless it gave a chance of garnering a better look from the older male- assuming he felt like staring in the darkness surrounding them. Talk. Think. Walk. .garishpum b {font-weight:bold; color:#d41102; letter-spacing:1px; } .garishpum i {font-style:italic; color:#d41102; letter-spacing:1px; } .garishpum-ooc {font-style:italic; padding:5px; font-family:times new roman; font-size:10px; color:#d41102; text-align:right;} .garishpum p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 5px; margin:5px;} .garishpum {margin:10px auto; width:370px; background-color:#fa9b0e; background-image:url(http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/7248/miritable1.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #d41102; padding: 10px 0px 300px 0px; font-family:times new roman; font-size:12px; color:#724a48; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> [/html] - Vheissu - 01-02-2011 [html]
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