[aw] grow a stone sanctuary - 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: [aw] grow a stone sanctuary (/showthread.php?tid=29422) |
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- Myrika Tears - 07-13-2012 [html]<style>#sieLoc td {vertical-align:top; text-align:center; padding:3px; font-size:11px; } #sieLoc td.header { font-size:15px; } #sieLoc #location{background-image:url('http://www.soulsrpg.com/images/BSMapPixels_subterr.jpg'); width:100px;height:100px;border:1px solid #000000;background-position:52% 36%;} #sieLoc #pushpin{position:relative;left:45px;top:45px;}</style>
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Leadership hadn't been exceedingly difficult or different, as Myrika saw it. Thus far, she'd only had to do a few things -- and even those she was almost used to, thanks to what Ezekiel had done before he'd left. Though she was perhaps the last to realize it, her cousin had put her through a rigorous sort of training in order to prepare her for this role. She'd served as a scout and she'd served as a historian, cataloguing the clan's history. Perhaps the only thing he hadn't taught her was how to fight -- but then again, maybe Ezekiel had known better.
Her knuckles, arms, legs, and just about everywhere else ached from the beating she'd taken at Remy's hands. Ithiel was just as frequent a partner as the Cajun, of course, but the redhead sometimes thought her cousin took it easy on her when he might have beaten a man bloody. Remy afforded her no such luxuries, as the bruises could attest quite easily. Though invisible through her fur, the hybrid felt purple and swollen in more places than she knew.
It was for this reason the redhead was simply relaxing this morning. She'd ridden Cahal along the beach for some distance, and upon finding a suitable spot, sprawled out. Her lengthy body was made even lengthier by the stretch of her legs. Her arms were tucked up beneath her head, pillowing it, and her turquoise eyes were lidded. The sun was bright and merry today, a rare clear day on the Bay of Fundy, and she intended to make good use of it. Her horse munched on the long shore grasses, a few feet away. Cahal never wandered far and even if he left her entirely, he would not leave the clan's territory. @import url('http://sleepyglow.net/rp/post.css'); </style>[/html] - Vesper - 07-28-2012 [html] (444) Foredating the hell out of it time! I think it'd be the 27th.
Vesper woke up late and sore. She lifted her head from the limestone floor, and immediately something felt wrong; her throat felt exposed, and she bristled instinctively before her eyes found the rosary discarded in the corner of the cavern. Her anxiousness flooded her with energy, and she didn't stumble as she stepped over to it, nudging her nose underneath and wiggling it down onto her neck with some effort.
.vesSie {font-family:georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing:0px; word-spacing:2px; text-align: left; margin:0px auto; width:95%;} .vesSie p {text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0;} .vesSie p.image {text-align:center; float:right; margin:10px; text-indent:0; font-size:10px; font-style:italic;} .vesSie .txtooc {text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal;} .vesSie .word {font-weight:bold; font-style:normal; letter-spacing:1.5px;} .vesSie b:before { content: open-quote; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; } .vesSie b:after { content: close-quote; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; } .vesSie b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } .vesSie u { text-decoration: underline; } </style> [/html] - Myrika Tears - 07-29-2012 [html] (371) AHHA. Also as I am writing this, Vesper's at 665 posts. YOUR NEXT POST IS THE DEVIL.
A leader who could not, of their own merit, hold their position was likely to have a short reign, Myrika thought. While many of the clan had proclaimed their support, the make-up of Inferni might not always be so forgiving to someone with nary an idea of how to fight someone. Though she'd killed -- twice -- the redhead still did not consider herself anything remotely resembling a fighter. Halo had done for the first one, or at least part-way, and Vesper had helped with the second. She'd never fought entirely on her own before, and when she trained, she was more likely to come out the sore loser by far. So, in her mind, she certainly was not a warrior, and therefore might precariously hold her position in the future. The only thing to do was get better, but getting better hurt.
At least the warmth of the day was helping some -- the sunlight beaming down on her seemed to melt away some of her aches. If only the beach had more sand than rocks, she could even pretend she was somewhere far south. She'd never seen what she considered a real beach. All of the coastlines near Inferni were rocky, cliff-like, or otherwise entirely foreboding. They were nothing like the white sand and pale blue sea described in her novels. The sound of shifting stones, too, ruined the effect. Her brow knit and her half-lidded eyes closed completely, only to reopen when the sound of movement grew louder still.
She reopened her eyes and turned her head toward the source of the noise as Vesper called her greeting. The Aquila's smile was immediate, and she sat up -- too quickly. Her ears went flat with the subsequent wince. A tawny hand rubbed gingerly at her shoulder. Sore morning, she corrected. How are you? She was pleasantly surprised to see the Centurion's slim two-legged body, and kept smiling through her invitation. Come and enjoy the stones with me. Her hand dropped to scatter a few of the rocks, exposing more small stones beneath. Thankfully, more were ocean-smoothed than sharp and jagged, so it was not as uncomfortable as it might have been. @import url('http://sleepyglow.net/rp/post.css'); </style>[/html] - Vesper - 07-29-2012 [html] (304) DEVIL POST DEVIL POST
.vesSie {font-family:georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing:0px; word-spacing:2px; text-align: left; margin:0px auto; width:95%;} .vesSie p {text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0;} .vesSie p.image {text-align:center; float:right; margin:10px; text-indent:0; font-size:10px; font-style:italic;} .vesSie .txtooc {text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal;} .vesSie .word {font-weight:bold; font-style:normal; letter-spacing:1.5px;} .vesSie b:before { content: open-quote; font-size: 14px; } .vesSie b:after { content: close-quote; font-size: 14px; } .vesSie b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } .vesSie u { text-decoration: underline; } </style> [/html] - Myrika Tears - 08-06-2012 [html] (OOC Summary) There was talkinga bout the horses or something prior to this post. O:
So we have to protect them, Myrika continued. She didn't like her co-leader's near-silence, the short few words. Did she know, or was she just pretending to understand so as not to annoy Myrika? The redhead ran a thumb over Vesper's muzzle, tracing the outline of her cheek. Are you sure you're okay? Though the scarred woman seemed bright and merry enough upon her approach, now Myri was not so sure. She regarded the woman with apprehension, wondering if she had done something to earn Vesper's displeasure.
I mean, she continued, finding it difficult to shut up in the face of so much stoic silence. If you wanted to learn how to ride or anything about horses, I'll help you. Whatever you want. Myrika shifted uncomfortably and dropped her hand, finding it easier to skim through the pebbles and sand than it was to maintain contact that now felt almost awkward, in a way it had not for some time. She would have expected them -- well, herself, mostly -- to be done and over with any lingering feelings of confusion or awkwardness. I don't want you to think we're protecting the horses for nothing. @import url('http://sleepyglow.net/rp/post.css'); </style>[/html] - Vesper - 08-08-2012 [html] (--) Man everything about this post is lame and contrived. Maybe I will feel better about it in the morning. >__>; Also shove me if you need more to reply to, because Ves is being taciturn again.
Myrika brushed her cheek with a thumb, asking if she was okay, and Vesper found that she could meet the other’s turquoise gaze as she nodded another lie. She was not used to others worrying about her and found it tedious, especially because it was all in the past. She was alive, relatively sore but uninjured, and she would get better. Only if she didn’t get better did she find it acceptable to be fussed over—although she had to admit that, deep down, she liked the contact and the concern, because it meant Myri cared. But then the redheaded Aquila went on, offering her lessons, which any other time Vesper might have graciously declined. This morning, it only served to annoy her, and her good ear twitched as the Lykoi woman went back to picking at pebbles. I don’t need it, she shrugged, referring to the skills themselves although her words could just as easily meant the help. At the last statement, the coywolf wrinkled her nose briefly. No, it’s fine, she said, a bit too curtly. .vesSie {font-family:georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing:0px; word-spacing:2px; text-align: left; margin:0px auto; width:95%;} .vesSie p {text-indent:50px; padding:0; margin:10px 0;} .vesSie p.image {text-align:center; float:right; margin:10px; text-indent:0; font-size:10px; font-style:italic;} .vesSie .txtooc {text-align:left; font-size:12px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:none; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal;} .vesSie .word {font-weight:bold; font-style:normal; letter-spacing:1.5px;} .vesSie b:before { content: open-quote; font-size: 14px; } .vesSie b:after { content: close-quote; font-size: 14px; } .vesSie b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; } .vesSie u { text-decoration: underline; } </style> [/html] - Myrika Tears - 08-11-2012 [html] <3
Though Myrika remained unconvinced, she realized it was probably a good time to stop talking. And despite her realization, when she ceased, the little words Vesper offered only served to alarm her more, and reaffirm her notion of present silence's unendurable awkwardness. Her big ears went half-flat, then all the way flat, then half-way again, and she picked at one of the larger of the stones beneath her hand. With a half-hearted toss, she threw it into the bay. An oncoming wave swallowed whatever splash the pebble might have made.
Did I make you angry? she murmured, meek as a Quintus might have addressed her. You're really quiet. There was no accusation in her voice, but plenty of apprehension. She might have insisted too much about the horses, or talked to much, or maybe Vesper really was angry about the change in leadership -- maybe it was as serious as feeling slighted over this? If so, why had she even asked? It wasn't as if Vesper would have told her these things if she was feeling them -- or at least, Myrika wouldn't have told anyone, if she had been in the Centurion's place with those feelings. @import url('http://sleepyglow.net/rp/post.css'); </style>[/html] |