but you can't take the sky from me - 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: but you can't take the sky from me (/showthread.php?tid=4562) |
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- Arkham Lykoi - 01-11-2009 [html] http://i144.photobucket.com/albums/r173 ... header.jpg); background-attach:top center; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-color:#eee;">
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She had put up a gravestone, so he thought he should visit again, perhaps for the last time. Arkham did not much like dwelling on things that couldn't be changed, but it happened all too often regardless. Things changed, people changed, people died, relationships died. And things kept changing. He liked closure, but many things in life left no closure. This would probably be one of them, but he had to make due with what he had. He had but a single memory to live on, and that would just have to be enough. The forest was white like the city; the snow took away many differences, and he wasn't sure where he felt more at home. Perhaps neither. They were both distant and cold, unfeeling and quiet. The trail of his cloak dragged in his wake, but his hood had been pulled back by the wind. The minty scent was ever-fading, and he wasn't sure that he cared to change that anymore. There was no one to hide from anymore, but perhaps he was still a little bit ashamed of where his blood had come from. And maybe he was still a little bit afraid of it. it was snowing again. By the time he started back, his footsteps might already be covered. - Jefferson Soul - 01-13-2009 [html]
- Arkham Lykoi - 01-16-2009 [html] http://i144.photobucket.com/albums/r173 ... header.jpg); background-attach:top center; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-color:#eee;">
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Arkham really wasn't one to pass someone without a word. It probably stemmed from his constant desire for company and conversation, for some distraction, for some way to spend time. It disturbed him that so often, time slipped by and he didn't notice because there was nothing to mark the occasion, and nothing to use as landmarks into the past. No life should be so empty, even if it was him. And yet, he had been silent when the stranger passed by; there never seemed like there was anything to say, any significant thing he should remark on that would begin a conversation. Indeed, even those words that did end up being exchanged, the coyote felt they were usually too forced and contrived. Meaningless.
- Jefferson Soul - 01-28-2009 [html] There was a sort of foreign air to that creature; Jefferson couldn't quite understand it, but yet this stranger seemed somewhat familiar to him, and the one-eyed brute hated to think any further into that feeling. It seemed whenever he managed to find someone who struck him as familiar somehow, it turned out they were related in some way or fashion. At this point, Jefferson could only assume as such when there were so many of his relatives running amok out there. In the end, he tended to just learn their names and go on his way without any other intention of contacting or interacting with them further.
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