[J] play the cards with spades to start - 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: [J] play the cards with spades to start (/showthread.php?tid=21338) |
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- Rémy Lebeau - 10-04-2011 [html] Made a shortish post. Quick joiners are lovely, yes? <3
Damn cold, the Cajun cursed in his mind, flipping up the collar on his long coat. The Southern man hated how bitter it was compared to where he had come, and the thought that it was going to get even colder, well, he disliked thinking of that thought. Rémy Lebeau hoped that he’d find this Inferni soon, or even if it exists; The wolf that told him of the coyote clan seemed to be a few cards short of a deck, but the man seemed to be the only reliable source at that current place and time. Maybe if he settled here and lay low for a while, the trail and weather would get too cold for the others to follow. After all, that’s what he was good at. A sudden scent on the wayward breeze alerted the man that the clan was near. It was like what the stranger in Freetown described it as, Rémy decided, as well as the location; it was somewhat near a bay, like the wolf had told. After quickening his past, trench coat flapping noisily from walking against the wind, it was not before long that he found empty eyes keeping sentry along the border. The sight wasn’t the worst he had saw in his life time, but they were interesting enough for him to take a long glance at. Seems as if they don’t like visitors, he mused with a toothy grin. Then, wasting no time, he let out a loud howl deep from his throat, low-pitched like a dog’s, but there was some coyote noise somewhere in the holler for attention. .remyl1 b {font-weight:bold; color:#e9f2f9;} .remyl1 p {text-indent:0px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px;} .remyl1 {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#431844; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/xwIQ9.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #D8BBCD; outline:1px solid #000000; padding: 7px 0px 100px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#D8BBCD; text-shadow: 0.1em 0.1em 0.2em #;letter-spacing:.6px; word-spacing:.9x; line-height:13px; text-align:justify;} </style> wc: 000 - Symera Villisca - 10-05-2011 [html]
.zero-star p {padding:0px 10px 5px 10px; margin:0px; text-indent:30px;} .zero-star b {color:#ffffff; font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .zero-star {font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#c4bfbc; text-align: justify; margin:0px auto; margin:5px auto; background-color:#4e293a; background-image:none; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; width:450px;} </style> [/html] - Rémy Lebeau - 10-06-2011 [html] It was not long before his call was acknowledged, which he expected; he inferred, from the décor, that these lands were highly guarded. What Rémy did not expect was to be answered by a small girl, clearly a minor, judging by her size. The Cajun also noticed that one of the wolf skulls were placed atop of her head, as if like a little hat that was too big for the coyote. “Well, I’ll be, a ‘yote in wolf’s clothing, and a youngin’ at that,” he commented, glancing at the skull then to the girl herself, his grin creasing even further. He was only pulling her leg though, since he assumed that she did not dress like so every day. “Yes, little missy, I was the one callin’. I’m just wonderin’ if I can join this here clan, I’ve heard it’s a mighty fine place for ‘yotes. Word gets around, ya’know?” he explained, his accent thick though understandable. He was making sure that his words were clear enough since he soon found out once he got north, some canines could barely comprehend what he was saying because of his different “dialect”. And though he really did not consider himself a coyote, more like a dog than anything, blood proved different, and he decided that he could be "'yote" enough to join a pack of ones. “Name’s Rémy, Rémy Lebeau. What might yours be, youngin’?” .remyl1 b {font-weight:bold; color:#e9f2f9;} .remyl1 p {text-indent:0px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px;} .remyl1 {margin:0 auto; width:500px; background-color:#431844; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/xwIQ9.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #D8BBCD; outline:1px solid #000000; padding: 7px 0px 100px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#D8BBCD; text-shadow: 0.1em 0.1em 0.2em #;letter-spacing:.6px; word-spacing:.9x; line-height:13px; text-align:justify;} </style> wc: 000 - Symera Villisca - 10-10-2011 [html]
.zero-star p {padding:0px 10px 5px 10px; margin:0px; text-indent:30px;} .zero-star b {color:#ffffff; font-family: tahoma, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .zero-star {font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#c4bfbc; text-align: justify; margin:0px auto; margin:5px auto; background-color:#4e293a; background-image:none; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; width:450px;} </style> [/html] |