Violent timing explains the aftermath - 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: Violent timing explains the aftermath (/showthread.php?tid=7290) |
- Haven Aatte - 08-03-2009 [html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... itar_t.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> 300+ She had left him. He didn't understand it. Not one bit. For two days he had locked himself up inside the house, never leaving his bed and crying until he could not cry anymore. She had wanted to find her brother, but why the hell was he suddenly more important? She had never even known him. She had thrown it all away for a distant childhood memory. Haven had never hurt like this before. Nothing had ever cut him so deep and he had known true, agonizing pain before this. His mind was clouded and tortured. Why? Whywhywhywhywhy? The question rang through his head relentlessly. Had it all been a lie? Had everything she had ever told him been false? He thought it must be or she never would have done this to him. On the third day he finally got up and traveled hollow eyed to the room that had been her's. Her scent still hung heavy in the air and it made his stomach turn. That smell that had once brought him so much joy now just made him sick. Staring into that room and at the things she had left behind a spark of anger grew inside of him. The youth's face turned into a deep frown. Haven walked inside the room and threw open the window, wanting to air out every trace of her perfume. Then he gathered all her belongings into his arms and stormed outside. The male stomped down to the beach and once he was at the ocean he flung it all into the surf. It all needed to be gone. Every last piece. Then with a pained cry he turned and briskly walked back up towards the house. He grabbed the axe that he used to chop wood and then found a large log not too far away. He channeled all his hurt and anger into the axe and began to chop at the log without mercy. Jade eyes blazed and his hackles rose as the blade bit into the wood again and again and again. Splinters and chunks of bark flew to the sides as he chopped with unbridled rage. - Jacquez Trouillefou - 08-04-2009 [html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> WC: 601 The little horse refused to leave his side. She had only been born hours earlier, her knobby knees and spindly legs clumsy as she struggled to keep pace with the tall Optime she had chosen as a parent. Her real mother had passed away during the birthing process, which pleased Jacquez to no end because it meant he could finally taste a horse without having to explain why he had hunted one. He had dragged the heavy carcass some ways from the stables, concealed it with some branches beneath the trees, and masked the scent trail with his acrid urine. And perhaps because she did not understand, or was simply to young to do anything other than mimic, the little filly kept stumbling and prancing behind him every step of the way. He continued to threaten that he would eat her too, but she merely blinked back at him with her soulful black eyes, trying to squeak out a semblance of a whinny. So leaving his future feast hidden for that night, he wandered down to the beach, looking for something to interest him. Rue, the little filly, was fascinated by the shifting sand beneath her small grey hooves. She continued to snort and toss her mane excitedly, feeling the ground sinking where she stood, until she noticed the one-armed dog walking further away. He sighed exasperatedly as the paint filly thumped her head against his thigh, needy as ever. He did not know how he was going to feed her - he planned on locking her up in the paddock nights, assuming that other pregnant mares could nurse her. If horse herds were anything like wolf packs, they would all pitch in, right? Although dog packs let every member fend for themselves... so there was a chance she might starve through the night. Annoyed with this new responsibility, the capricious king was about to chase her back to the stables when he heard a loud, repeated thudding noise. Since he had been looking for amusement anyway, he followed the inconsistent sound, finally making the connection to the day he had spent with Leroy in the woods - it was the sound of an axe. Assuming he would find the broad-shouldered husky, he unwound the thin line of deerskin from his wrist, the twine that he frequently used to tie back his dark mane. Using his teeth, he made a loop out of the excess, just wide enough to slip over Rue's neck. She huffed and tried to back out, but she had been collared. Squeaking unhappily, the bay-and-white filly could only watch as Jacquez planted a thick branch into the ground, making a stake to secure her tie to. "Serves you right for following me," he jeered, tickling her playfully under her velvety muzzle. "I'll be back soon, so do not make a ruckus." Then without a backward glance to his newest ward, he slipped between the trees, looking for the axeman. He was met with an unexpected sight - the burnished-orange fur of Haven, his noble young knight, pulverizing some log before him into splinters. He was clearly enraged by something, because his strokes were sloppy and ferocious, his fur bristled all over. It was a fair way to unleash anger, he supposed. He preferred fighting, though. "Sir Haven!" he called over the noise of the chopping. "Why is it I, your king, who comes to calm you, and not your snowy princess? Should you not be spending time with her, rather than murdering trees?" He smiled at his own joke, unaware of just how far Haven had fallen. - Haven Aatte - 08-04-2009 [html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... itar_t.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
Whether or not his punch hits is up to you :3 300+
- Jacquez Trouillefou - 08-10-2009 [html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> A little short, and sorry for the delay! Ohh, and I finally figured out how to add hover-translations. Now his vulgarity is for all to see. C:
- Haven Aatte - 08-11-2009 [html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... itar_t.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
No worries about the length or the wait. My muse and activity have been down the drain lately x.x And yay Jac cursings!
- Jacquez Trouillefou - 08-17-2009 [html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> WC: 352 I hope your muse returns to you...! -cuddles- In the pained silence that followed, Jac could hear scuffling behind the trees; his equine ward was apparently battling for her freedom as they spoke. His dark eyes narrowed, hoping that she would not succeed in her fight with the twine. Didn't Haven have a horse? He was the first of their packmates to have claimed one of the oversized deer. Perhaps the burnt-orange male would be willing to offer some animal husbandry advice, if he was done with his mood swings. (As if Jac was one to talk!) Jacquez rubbed his bruising temple, gingerly probing the swelling side of his face. He had almost gotten a black eye - now, that would be unbecoming of royalty. Scars were fine, for attracting women drawn to danger. It was just harder to be flashy and handsome with puffiness and discolourations. The collie-hybrid raised an eyebrow, watching his Knight slump to his knees. When they first met, it had been similar to this. Only it had been about Haven's heritage, the father whose genetic predispositions had worried the good-hearted coy-wolf into depression. He had overcome that, and now he was back on his knees where he started, this time over the flighty albino that had slipped away in the night. The king squatted on his haunches, resting his chin on his palm. He pursed his lips, trying to concoct the proper condolences for his younger packmate. He had never had his heart broken - indeed, had never felt anything stronger than a mild, frustrating disappointment - and there was no viable way for him to see things from Haven's point of view. He huffed aloud, bored by the failed effort, and decided instead to take a different tack. "Sir Haven, you know... you are strong, kind, handsome. I can see many ladies falling head over heels for you. Perhaps it would be easier on yourself to take another lover, one without torn loyalties to struggle with." He wanted to add that many lovers would be better than just one, but the Knight probably took his vow of chivalry more seriously than Jacquez ever would. - Haven Aatte - 08-21-2009 [html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... itar_t.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
Thanks, it's better now :3 *huggles* 300+
- Jacquez Trouillefou - 09-07-2009 [html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> WC: 300+ Jacquez acted flippant, and at most times was not capable of forming true attachments, but he did have a soft spot for what he considered strays. He liked when others looked up to him and relied on him, which was why he had not initially balked at the responsibilities of leadership. And Haven was one of the most valued followers in his kingdom, bright with youth and hope and idealism. The orange-furred coy-wolf certainly had his darker moments, and it seemed he took bad news harder than most, but... he was a good kid. Jac studied his slumped posture with his keen dark eyes, trying to calculate the words to pull his knight from where he had fallen. "...That is true. You are not like me. You have kindness and mercy, and faith in the world. They are not traits unbecoming of you," he added in an offhanded compliment. He was no sort of role model, and he cherished the thought that he could not be emulated. Haven was Haven because he believed in chivalry, in knights and princesses, even when his world collapsed around him. "You still have your steed and your blade. You can find another princess to rescue." He flashed a quick smile at the downcast hybrid, ruffling his mismatched ears as he did so often with Ruri, before standing up again. Jac could never stay in one place for very long, and left Haven for a moment to inspect the discarded axe. He had not handled one since Leroy had introduced him to the tool. He had never done much with weapons, being at a learning disadvantage with his amputation, but the sleek designs and shiny metal were attractive in their own right. Still, he lost interest quickly and glanced back at his young packmate, wondering how long this depression would last. It might be a long time, if he slipped into the bottle again. - Haven Aatte - 09-15-2009 [html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... itar_t.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
300+
- Jacquez Trouillefou - 09-27-2009 [html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> WC: 300 Jac smiled appraisingly, looking almost proud of Haven as he carelessly discarded the axe. "Then you have already begun to move on! That is a good thing you have done, Sir Knight, it will break the hold she had on you. Now you may live your life to the fullest!" Amusing, perhaps, that the king equated being a bachelor to living life to its fullest, but he still meant well, spinning a positive angle on the abrupt separation. He was still curious about the little red-eyed coyote, though - why had she taken off like that? She hadn't returned to her Inferni home, or Haven would have surely followed her to ask why. She hadn't seemed unstable. She was just oddly insecure and childish, so maybe her fears got the better of her. It didn't really concern Jac, except for the sting of egotism that he had lost another follower. He needed to find some more reliable cronies. There wasn't enough loyalty in the blood of these wolves, not the way dogs felt it. But perhaps their unpredictability was what kept him interested in their kind... "Eh, faith is not something I can help you with. The world is unpredictable, and lady luck has thrown many a thing in my path - wrecking my ship, drowning my old pack, claiming my arm - and yet here I am, handsome and beloved as ever. Faith comes and goes, perhaps, I'm sure you'll find yours washed up on the beach somewhere." The mad king smiled broadly, outshining Haven's shadowed expression. He was tired of the gloominess, it was a boring emotion and one he did not feel the need to possess. Surely Haven would bounce back soon, wouldn't he? Weren't the young supposed to be more resilient? If he couldn't cheer up his Knight, his ego might take a hit, and that would not do. - Haven Aatte - 09-29-2009 [html] http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee19 ... itar_t.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;">
guessing we can close this up since it's kinda old :o 300+
- Jacquez Trouillefou - 10-05-2009 [html] http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b171/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> of course. and sorry if I killed the momentum with my own lack of muse! ;_; Jacquez smiled without a care in the world, the gratitude of his subjects a natural occurrence for one in his most lofty of positions. "It is nothing, Sir Haven," he dismissed, though the arrogance shining in his eyes said otherwise. "Yes, the stables will be good," Jac announced, nodding firmly. He could take Rue there, since the young horse would no doubt be huffy and spiteful the rest of the day after being tied up. It would not be the last time the impatient king would have to secure her - he could only deal with children of any species for so long, no matter how cute they were at first. Capriciously, though, he liked their neediness because it gave him importance and power over them. "I have a horse to take there, actually - a baby one. She was born today, and I have to find her a milk-mother before I forget..." The tall Optime stroked his chin, wondering how one went about selecting a wet nurse for a horse. He was completely clueless about animal husbandry, since he had not had any intention of adopting an orphaned filly when he stepped into the barn - it had simply happened. He clapped his hand on Haven's shoulder, steering the burnt-orange werewolf in the direction of the little horse he'd left behind. Haven liked horses, didn't he? Going out riding was probably the best way to keep himself preoccupied. It was a sound plan. |