i'm just a pill on your tongue. - 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: i'm just a pill on your tongue. (/showthread.php?tid=7096) |
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- Charon Amrithai - 07-22-2009 [html]
- Cwmfen nic Graine - 07-23-2009 [html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... eather.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Yup, short is fine with me, and there’s no need to tire Cwmfen out too much, hah. And spear butts have that heavy metal thingy on them, so she could make it hurt to, OuO;; And sorry for the crap—I’ve been working on Cwmfen’s profile all day [updating and coding] and so I’m sort of pooped; I just wanted to get a reply up for you, ^=^;; 500+ The woad warrior traveled with ease, her wounds healed and allowing her movement. The wound upon her leg no longer caused her to limp, no longer disrupted the fluidity of her stride. But she knew that it was not fully healed. Not yet. When she pushed herself too much, she could feel it tug, could feel the pain threatening to fly loose like an arrow from its bow. But she knew as well that she must keep moving in order for it to heal without retaining the tightness. She did not want the wound to maim her movements, to render her any less than she should be. And so she traveled through the Dahlian territory, moving with those ethereal movements, her left hand going to support her belly to lessen the strain on her back. The litter moved within her, and she responded with a reassuring silence. There was nothing amiss within these lands. The Dream of prior nights had eased her mind, had allowed the light of the day to reach her darkened soul. If she could protect the pups from the darkness of her own soul, that would be enough. She could be content. The song of the Raven Spear rose up. The woad bound maw twitched, the scent of some unfamiliar beast carried upon the wind. And those sharp ears and those acute eyes found him, a wolf sniffing the lands. He was well within the Dahlian boarders. The white orbs flickered with a wild ferocity, their soft warmth hardening into white marble. The wild, hungry ring of the Raven Spear quieted to the murmur, the warning growl before the attack, although its song continued to flow with an undiluted strength. The woad tipped tail rose, flowing like a black river behind her. The fluid movements of the woad warrior were made to cease, and the Spear was set upon the earth in silence. And yet, in the warrior’s mind, it was as if from the single point where she had set the weapon upon the earth, a ripple of water spread forth, a single, deep strike sounding like the last beat of a dying heart. "You trespass, loner," the quiet voice sounded, and that melody, as her face, was strangely tranquil. It was only her eyes the belied that tranquility, and it was only the eyes that gave that warning. The woad bound ears pressed forward, and she waited expectantly of him. He was a large wolf, she noted quietly. Those white orbs passed over his form briefly, assessing his strengths and weaknesses as well as her own strengths and weaknesses. He was an arctic wolf—she had contended with them many months ago when she had traveled upon the fields of ice. The lunar orbs returned to those cerulean eyes, holding his gaze with effortless ease. And she held that gaze with that ferocity, silently challenging him in that ancient way of wolves. "You show great disrespect to the lands and to the pack," that soft melody sounded again, dancing on the air like the silver leaves of autumn. "And for it, you are not welcome here." Her left hand went to support her swollen belly, but her eyes never left his. She was a warrior—she would keep that eye contact even if they fought, should it come to that. Her right hand was warm with the song of war, and the woad-bound fingers remembered the ways of the Spear as she touched its decorated shaft. A warning. - Charon Amrithai - 07-23-2009 [html]
- Cwmfen nic Graine - 07-23-2009 [html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... eather.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Sorry about the delay~ Haha, thanks, ^=^;; Oh yeah, it’s definitely visible, ^=^; She’s due in a little more than a week~ And I have a feeling that this is going to be very short, OuO And she’s not so much angry as just intense, if that makes sense >u<; Haha, and this is “emotional”-pregnant Cwmfen >__> 700+ The perpetrating wolf spun quickly to face her, surprised by her presence. Such swift movement indicated to the warrior that he had been unaware, and perhaps thusly he would have been unaware of his location. Or perhaps he was simply not expecting to find him as he stepped over the boarders, hoping to explore a land to which he did not have access. But the warrior set such suppositions aside. She knew the laws of these lands, and as Warrior and as Adonis, she had the duty to uphold such laws. This would not be the first time that a creature had stepped over the boarders of Dahlia de Mai. Nikolai Russo had done so, refusing to leave with the justification that he simply wanted to map the area; that was not enough to lay lax the laws of the lands, but the woad female had allowed him to linger nonetheless. Tokyo Chance had done similarly, although she now held their ranks. But the warrior would no longer be so lenient. The actions of her father upon the wolves of her pack had brought to the black fae’s attention the need to keep a vigilance upon the boarders, to be wary of those who came to the boarders. The black fae would not tolerate the presence of this male within the Dahlian lands. Exceptions should not be made, she knew that and had known that long ago. The woad-marked female was no longer the young, innocent girl who had sought refuge within the Dahlian boarders. Many moons had passed since then, and she knew now that action must be took. And it was action that she knew how to take. The light hued male looked upon her, and she saw both the fear and the friendliness that he held within his eyes. It was the friendliness that struck the black fae. Perhaps, in different circumstances, she would have lingered to speak with the stranger, but such a thing would not be allowed upon this day. Perhaps he could have been an amiable acquaintance, but today, the male was an enemy, and she would deal with him as she would deal with anyone else of such deemed titles. She trusted very few individuals, and she did not trust this male that had made himself known only a few moments prior. Cwmfen knew of the treacheries that lay within the hearts of all creatures, even within her own, and she did would not risk the safety of her pack upon the mere whims of that friendly gaze. The calm waters of her soul shifted, a quiet ripple moving across its smooth, glassy surface. The Raven Spear hummed. He claimed to be of the North. Briefly, the Caledonian-Korean wondered if she had crossed his path before, but his scent was not particularly familiar. "These boarders exist to keep others with out these lands," the soft melody countered with a strange patience once the male had ceased to speak. The white orbs regarded him, a ferocity rising with an unfamiliar celerity. The submissive posture. The fearful glance. They invoked within the female something very familiar, that instinctual expression, that natural response, that she had known upon her travels in the North. It was that lupine song that sung strongly within her, though not as strongly as it had with the pup-eater Brennt. This male had trespassed upon her lands, and his behavior, however benign it may have been, only provoked her belligerent nature. Perhaps it was the aggression that came with pregnant females, but there would be no friendly conversation. "I explain that you are not welcome here," the soft melody replied suddenly, her soft lilt moving through the air. "You have broken this ancient law. I cannot suffer you to remain here." There was almost an apologetic note within that quiet melody as those white orbs watched the down-casted gaze of the secui male. The Raven Spear snarled as she stepped forth, moving with a fluidity and celerity that belied her physical state. The Spear lifted from the earth, the hungry blade jabbed forth with that speed and precision. Its song rang like silver glass within her. The blade hungered for his shoulder, but the control of the warrior commanded for but a superficial wound, enough to draw blood but not enough to maim. She did not move to kill him for there was no need, and so she was careful, though her movements did not betray the care that she took with that strike. Immediately, as she stepped forward, the spear swung up as the blade sought to bite again, the heavy shoe swinging in an uppercut that was meant for his jaws. The song of war moved through her with a breathless exhilaration as the tranquility of her face was distorted with a snarl that was made to intimidate and to make manifest the ferocity within the woad warrior. - Charon Amrithai - 07-24-2009 [html]
- Cwmfen nic Graine - 07-25-2009 [html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... eather.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Again, sorry about the delay! Apparently I’ve been going out a lot lately, heh... We can do one more round, and then I will have Cwmfen watch him go. After you read that post, if you could PM me that would be great, and then I’ll archive it. ^=^ But yeah, they should have one in the future, maybe where she meets him in an unclaimed territory, because then she could be more friendly with him, since it would be like that enemy | friend division thingy that she does, ^=^;; 700+ The songs of war, sung by the Spear and her soul, sung, and it was a song from which she had been deprived for too long. She breathed a sigh of relief, as if a great weight had suddenly been lifted from her and she could breathe once more. But that breath was lost in the quiet breaths that were released into the world, accenting each move having been given. Her white orbs shone brightly now, the sooty debris within her permitted to be set aside if only for the brief moments in which she would wield a weapon of war. There was fluidity, the memory within the sinew of her form remembering a familiar art and performing it with a precision. A soft but fierce smile—or perhaps it was hidden by the snarl displayed upon those jaws—graced the woad bound maw as she moved, somehow unburdened by the weight of her womb held by the left hand having been rendered lesser. The litter within her moved as if in response, and it seemed to the woad marked female that they, too, listened to the song that rang from her heart and were delighted. And the soft sigh of her own delight fell again to the deaf world and upon the ears of the gods as the Frenzy of Nemain rose up within her, making savage her mind. But the lust for bloods was held back as she reminded herself that she would not kill this trespassing loner for the harmlessness that she felt within him. The woad-marked fae was a warrior, not a murderer. The yelp that cut through the air was not as satisfying as the smooth bite of the Raven Spear as the flesh was split and the blood spilt. With the voice of her snarl having faded with his sharp cry, the tranquility of her face was regained and only the intensity within her white gaze betrayed the wild song that sang through her. As the Spear’s shoe struck him, the woad warrior pushed the weapon to complete the motion before she allowed it to rest, lowering it in that position that would allow her to strike again. The black fae simply stood there, her breathing slightly labored by the added weight, although the mind that had already accepted her Fate had forgotten what it was like to move without that burden. He must not have been accustom to pain, the black fae thought as she watched him recoil from her attack, at least not this sort of pain. He was not a warrior, that much she knew. But Cwmfen had been careful to strike him in a relatively harmless place. Had she been more aggressive and had struck his temple, warrior or not surely he would have been dead. Of course, she did not doubt that her attacks would have elicited a painful wound; he simply did not respond to her attacks in like kind, and so he must not have been a warrior. Because this light male from the North held no apparent malice within him, she did not strike or kill him as instinct bid but waited for him to respond, her stance ready and yet relaxed, for too much tension would only cause one to lock up. The white orbs observed him from a distance, calculating each subtle movement that he made as if it would grow into an attack. The white-eyed female growled in quiet warning, but no move was made that was malignant. In response to his voice finally having spoken, the woad-marked fae simply snarled: Then get out. An aggressive command. The Raven Spear, held horizontally at her hip, ringing in agreement. And the Spear was still hungry. As he rose and turned his back to her, the snarl made itself manifest upon her face, distorting the calm features, but she was silent. And the Dahlian Warrior did not aid him in his struggle but followed closely behind, ensuring that he would leave. His path was unsteady—perhaps she had hit him harder than she thought, although she did not think so. He seemed to speak without pain, which meant that his jaw had not been broken. As the light hued male stumbled again, Cwmfen reached out to catch him under his arm before pushing him roughly over the boarders. Perhaps he would think twice before trespassing. Perhaps he would not even think to do such a thing again. "Next time, show courtesy," the quiet melody bid, as if in farewell. |