save the last dance for 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: save the last dance for me (/showthread.php?tid=7444) |
- Jefferson Soul - 08-13-2009 [html] http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v295/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Gwen; outside the ranch. :3 The return of the sun was a relief after recent weeks of flooding and ceaseless rain. An unsaid nature lover, Jefferson emerged from the ranch house at every opportunity he got to bask in the sunshine and stretch his legs. Patrolling the borders was half the misery in the sunshine; the task had already been done for the morning, of course, and thus he had sauntered back to the ranch amicably but had no desire to dwell in the confines of the building where the fresh air and light were closed off. Instead, the one-eyed brute took to minding the animals in the farm. Summer that year had started later than usual due to a drop in temperature and almost a full month of rain, thus the animals were thrown off guard with the unsightly weather conditions so late in the year. They were, however, perfectly content with grazing when the Patriarch opened the barn for the day and allowed them their free range of the pasture.
- Geneva Stockholm - 08-14-2009 [html] http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v463/ ... Tablep.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat; width:400px; border:1px #D8FF00 solid; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px;"> It had been a considerable length of time since Geneva had seen the blue of the sky. She reveled in it, not missing the blanket of gray and black storm clouds one bit. The air felt lighter, fresher in her lungs as she patrolled the borders in the morning. She had not expected it to warm up, and so she was pleasantly surprised when she had awoken this morning and seen sunlight coming in through the blinds. That had been enough to invigorate her and send her flying out the door. She had spent the last few hours outdoors, just glad for this fortuitous change of worth. She did not know how much she had missed the feeling of sunlight on her shoulders. Geneva was hardly an outdoors kind of creature, although she had changed her habits drastically and spent much more time outside of buildings. Still, it had been quite some time since she had simply enjoyed the simple novelty of being outside. She would remember not to take it for granted. The gray wolfess had eventually turned her footsteps back toward the ranch. She felt that it would be a nice day to sit in the sun and write, at least for a short time, as she had finished her duties for the morning. And she was be easily accessible if anyone needed her. But she brightened when she saw a familiar form. She approached quietly, taking care to mask her footfalls until she was near. She stood a foot away, trying to decide what to do. Geneva was not normally impulsive, but she let impulse get the best of her now. Jefferson did not seem to be asleep now, though that might he his intention in a few minutes. Geneva crept closer than pounced on top of him, taking hold of his wrists and smiling. "I've got you now. What will you trade for your freedom?" - Jefferson Soul - 08-27-2009 [html] http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v295/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Needless to say, it didn't take very long for Jefferson to drift into something similar to sleep. He napped rather easily, being that he wasn't as young and fruitful as he was in previous years. Exhaustion was that kind of close acquaintance that always appeared at the most inopportune moments; he napped when he could, which wasn't especially often, and then again he napped when he shouldn't have been napping, which was more often than not. Which one this nap was was hard to say, but either way, he'd fallen asleep by the time Geneva had come bounding.
- Geneva Stockholm - 08-28-2009 [html] Mahaha. Thank you for making my day. Asserson is a hoot. you answered me with no pretense. And still I feel I've said too much, my silence is my self-defense. It seemed as though she had caught Jefferson unaware. She had not expected him to fall into sleep so suddenly, and her face showed some of her surprise. But as recognition dawned on his features, her expression settled back into a smile. Jefferson had seemed more worn around the edges recently, the glint absent from his single emerald eye on many occasions. It made sense that the Patriarch would be tired and worn out. Geneva suspected that if he could, he would work himself into the ground. On more than one occasion, she had happened upon him when he had settled for a quick round of shut eye, but she usually left him alone. It had been weeks since they had said more than a few words to each other. Although she saw him frequently enough, passing by him in the hall of the ranch or while patrolling the borders, the two had spent very little quality time together. She had missed spending time with him, plain and simple. She missed the way he could bring quiet to her soul and send her mind and blood racing all at the same time. It was a strange conundrum, but something she had learned to accept in her interactions with Jefferson. When she was with him, she could feel each moment moving past so clearly, as if time had slowed down significantly. Normally the moments of her day blended together and became a familiar blur, but with him she could feel the passage of time so distinctly.
- Jefferson Soul - 08-28-2009 [html] http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v295/ ... table1.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> It was odd, how she'd brushed past his initial boundaries somehow to void out the argumentative nature in him; with Geneva, he was not the brutish, coldshouldered idiot that constantly pushed away intruders to his walls. No, she'd found some deep, raw point deep within him one way or another, and now that his core had been so blatantly exposed, he no longer felt any need to push her away. At the same time, however, despite the closeness that had developed between the two, he and Geneva had hardly shared a smile or a greeting in recent weeks. She'd made an excellent assistant in DaVinci's stead; moving her to the subleader positions was something he didn't question in the least, and at the same time, balanced Phoenix Valley excellently at the same time. The brute that he was still realized that a kindly figure in the leader ranks would help bring down some tension the pack might have been feeling.
- Geneva Stockholm - 08-31-2009 [html] Do you think we could forward date this to this weekish, for the sake of timelines? you answered me with no pretense. And still I feel I've said too much, my silence is my self-defense. "I guess I was going to do a bit of hiding too, in my own way," Geneva admitted. "I was going to sneak off to see if I could sit in the sun and read a while." She smiled wryly when he lifted his good arm easily. Despite his obvious physical limitations, there was no doubt in Geneva's mind that Jefferson could easily overtake and overpower her. She was not exerting her full strength pinning him down by any means, but she wasn't simply holding him loosely either. She was conscious of his bad arm, but she had been putting some pressure, if only teasingly, on his good arm. "I didn't say you could be free," she mocked scowled at him. "You are going to ruin my reputation for being ruthless." Her thumb traced lazy circles over his pulse, her gentle touch at odds with her playful mock-growl. The gray-furred sub-leader released his other wrist to touch his face, light and gentle, nearly as insubstantial as a whisper. It never ceased to amaze her when she pondered the depth of what she felt for Jefferson. The woman had loved before, and deeply, but there was a new edge to the emotions and decisions she was making now. It was like there was a new flavor to something she thought she had understood, a new dimension that added mystery. Upon thinking of this, she straightened slightly. Her expression settled into something a little more serious. Geneva looked at him with a bit of gravity in her gaze, her playfulness forgotten, but the gentleness of her touch still lingering. She looked searchingly into his face before she poke. "Jefferson," she said carefully, slowly. "How do you feel about me?" - Jefferson Soul - 09-11-2009 [html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... famans.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> She was some kind of enigma: as much as the cyclops tried to figure her out, she never ceased to bombard or overwhelm him one way or another. He smirked bemusedly as she explained herself and mocked a pout, at which he loudly scoffed. He could be unusually playful himself, though periods of it were few and far between and required a certain number of prerequisites before achievement. All in all, Jefferson was still some kind of rusty mechanical work, constantly clicking and working, but almost as if something in his head had become offset and loose. An odd one he was, anyway.
- Geneva Stockholm - 09-16-2009 [html]
you answered me with no pretense. And still I feel I've said too much, my silence is my self-defense. The way he stilled, and the way his expression changed under her touch made Geneva remember the day she had found him staring listlessly into the waves at the beach after he had found his children. There were so many different sides to him, the little whispers of words that built up a big secret. She knew that there were pieces of him missing, pieces he could not hold on to or find. And when he encountered something that brought those pieces closer to him, he dropped his walls. And she caught a glimpse into the creature he used to be before pain had warped him into someone who had to develop protective instinct in order to just get by. The soft expression on his face was washed away once he registered her words. She expected him to push her away then, still cautious of the fragile thing that existed between them. Even though he had already given her his acceptance, and had hinted at deeper things, she was still almost afraid that he would turn away from her. She was relieved when he did not move away, although he did look away. She rested her hands on her thighs, giving him the space he was so clearly trying to establish for himself without pulling away from her. "Thank you," she said, guardedly. It was a compliment. She herself held DaVinci in high regard, and she felt his absence was a loss to the Valley. She had not known the man well at all, but she had known him to be responsible and strong. She knew that DaVinci had been Jefferson's friend. But that wasn't what she wanted to hear, not what she needed to hear. She knew that Jefferson felt something for her, something more than just a friend. But she wanted to hear him say the words, because then she would know that it was true. Jefferson had never lied to her. - Jefferson Soul - 09-18-2009 [html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... famans.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> As assumed, it was not the answer she was looking for. He'd evaded the question, but surprisingly was left unreprimanded for it; instead, Geneva sat back and became reserved, switching back to her typical quiet observer-type he knew her best as. The weary green of his eye watched several unsaid thoughts breeze over her eyes as she became temporarily unfocused and forgetful. He frowned, wordless for some time. What did she want from him? He'd assured her before that he couldn't be what she could possibly ever want -- and yet she'd said she loved him. The cyclops' thoughts fluttered back to the fireflies in the night, the coolness of the breeze, and the softness of her fur when he'd held her close. He'd felt something then; something within his chest was blooming like the spring's first flowers, emerging from the soil and bursting into life. It made him sick to his stomach.
- Geneva Stockholm - 09-18-2009 [html]
you answered me with no pretense. And still I feel I've said too much, my silence is my self-defense. She could tell that he was trying because he was scowling now. Despite the seriousness of his expression, a smile touched her own face. Her expression was rueful. His electric green eye had rolled away from her face, and he looked off into the distance. He was probably thinking about how much she annoyed him. She had had that effect on him since the moment they had met. But that was only a single dimension of their interaction patterns. As time went on and she got to know him better, she was aware of the fact that he had the frustrating ability to get under her skin and drive all patience out of her. His body stiffened, and he felt like a statue beneath her. But he did not try to move away. He was putting forth an effort and seemed to be uncomfortable as hell. She placed a hand on one side of his rigid jaw, her touch gentle, trying to ease the tension in him. She mimicked his smirk in good humor before she spoke again, the edge of a laugh in her voice, "You don't look very happy right now." But she didn't push the issue further. It was obvious that there was something there, something in his words, and in words he could not yet find. She could be satisfied with that for now. He was willing to try, to rise to the challenge, despite the difficult of the task for him. That spoke far more than words could to her. But Geneva felt the need to speak her own mind, and to give him the honesty he deserved. "For me, there's no one else." The words came tumbling out of her usually guarded mouth. "If you don't feel the same, I understand. But I needed to let you know...and that changes things for me, the way I act and react toward you. I need to know...if you feel anything similar, so I know what to do..." she finished lamely, feeling slightly embarrassed now. - Jefferson Soul - 10-07-2009 [html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... famans.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> She was unyielding at making a point. Regardless of any amount of sarcasm or subject-changing material Jefferson could have thrown at her, Geneva's mind was set: now was the time to get the poor, one-eyed idiot to admit something he didn't know he was saying. Jefferson was no ignoramus, however; the cyclops understood what Geneva was consistently aiming for, but an inner doubt -- a cold, nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach -- forced a hesitation rare for Jefferson to display. Unlike himself, of course, Geneva admitted her true colors willingly, most likely to inspire speech from the tight-lipped Patriarch. As she spoke, however, only his frown prevailed. He could only stare into her olive eyes and wonder, just wonder, what the true effects of his words would be. If he pushed her away now, would she finally give up after so much trouble in admitting the truth? Would she keep trying to get to him? Would he really never be rid of the green-eyed nuisance?
- Geneva Stockholm - 10-11-2009 [html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j19/S ... ranges.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat; width:300px; border:1px #000000 solid; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px;"> She could see that he was struggling with something, but he would not let her see it. It was a struggle for him even now, to allow himself to be close to her. She had to fight for every inch he gave her, and she had to fight to keep it after it was given. But it was something that she was willing to do as long as he was willing to keep trying. It was a constant struggle, a daily battle that they faced together, but she wouldn't give up the fight if he was still willing to try. It was obvious that he fought as hard as her. That had to mean something.
- Jefferson Soul - 10-11-2009 [html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... famans.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Each time the cyclops grew dreadfully serious, it was repelled with a youthful, almost childish reaction for the olive-eyed woman. The sound of her giggle was melodic; his ears unconsciously pricked at the sound and he resisted grinning any further than a small, tightly restrained smile. Jefferson admired that in her: Geneva could absorb any frustration or anger he could throw at her like a sponge, seriously considering all his actions as made evident by her studying eyes, but the anger was never released or returned. She simply took it all in, smiled, and continued on as normal. He admired that. The fact that he'd never attempted such a feat, however, was something he was consistently disappointed in himself for.
- Geneva Stockholm - 10-12-2009 [html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j19/S ... ranges.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat; width:300px; border:1px #000000 solid; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px;"> There was a pause. There often was with him. It was as if he had to turn inward and gauge his defenses. It was not Geneva's intention to wound him or hurt him, but he was always so cautious. She did not know what she had to do to earn his trust, to make him realize the she would never intentionally do him harm. But she would try to find a way to show him. She knew that words only meant so much to him, and that he valued actions far more.
- Jefferson Soul - 10-15-2009 [html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... famans.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> He hadn't known what her reaction would be. Neither she nor he were particularly mild-mannered; his reaction to her admission had been quiet and reserved. How she would respond, of course, he hadn't tried to plan. Geneva was full of surprises as her personality so greatly contrasted his own; although Jefferson had at first resented the fact that he couldn't predict her every move and direct himself accordingly as if they were playing a great game of chess, but with time the cyclops had at first grown not to mind it and later moved to almost... like it. She was changing him -- he knew it. Jefferson didn't invite it, and yet he didn't stop it. He, the immovable wall, was being moved by the unstoppable force.
- Geneva Stockholm - 10-19-2009 [html] http://i76.photobucket.com/albums/j19/S ... ranges.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat; width:300px; border:1px #000000 solid; font-size: 10px; line-height: 12px;"> He pulled her close, and she was still and happy in his arms. She closed her eyes and she wondered what had led to this moment. When had his half-committed hints at something more ceased to be enough? She remembered a time not long ago when she would feel happy just because his single-eye had flashed a bright color and he had choked down a half-hidden smile. The novelty had worn off, although the meaning behind those looks, those words still rang true.
- Jefferson Soul - 10-30-2009 [html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... famans.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Oddly, he grinned. It seemed Geneva was the only one left worth his most genuine smiles; the closer they had gotten in the past few months, the more he'd unconsciously began to smile more and more even when the two were apart. When Xeris had admitted to prancing on Inferni territory and running into some wolf-hating devil there, Jefferson had snapped at her -- but his frustration subsided quickly and he'd apologized. Apologized! Even then, even in the most subtle changes of his behavior, he could see the olive-eyed goddess' influence. At first, he'd been upset. As time progressed, however, he'd adapted and grown to like it -- and with that, made more effort to learn from her further.
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