10-02-2009, 02:53 AM
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http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurik_top.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:fixed; padding-top:200px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:25px; padding-bottom:10px;"> Aww, poor Lolita. XD I should make a vampire-wolf come and lurve her. X3  The Russian was off on his own again, having left both of his children to their own devices. He hardly gave a second thought to this notion; they mostly stuck together anyway, and since he'd left them with the sword he figured they were well-prepared to defend themselves, should it come to that. But Rurik had hardly seen anyone in the port of the city, and he was rather glad they'd settled on such a secluded spot. They could've been unlucky enough to drift north or south and end up landing on claimed land, putting Rurik in a similar predicament as when he'd landed in Inferni's territory with the Syemv. Rurik was lucky enough to be somewhat educated, and he could read in English, though it was a back-breaking process. The letters were quite different from the Cyrillic alphabet he was quite used to, and he occasionally completely reversed the letters around. His rudimentary skill was enough to help guide him around the city, however, and he kept the names of the streets he'd traveled locked in his head so he could return home should his scent trail fade away. He was hopeful he'd come to know these streets well enough without the use of scent trails or street signs, but that was a dim possibility. Sooner or later, he wanted to find a pack. He was lonely for the social life, and he wanted his children to experience the feral life wolves lived on this side of the globe. He had no idea what any of them were called here, though he'd traveled close to Cour des Miracles and Phoenix Valley so far. He knew that the packs existed here, he just did not know if any of them held so much as an echo of old Syemv, if any in these lands could recall the Russian clan that had staked its home on the old shores for less than a year. He was just about to round a corner when he smelled the faintest scent on the wind, one that electrified his blood and sent him on an immediate chase for the source, his pace picking up and seeming more purposeful than it had previously. The smell had grown quite strong, and the Russian peered around, perplexed as to why he could not access the source of that unmistakable smell, the burning of marijuana. It was papery and tinged with an unfamiliar sweetness, but there it was, undeniable. Frustrated, the wolf peered to the sky, quite surprised to see a strange female perched on the roof, the source of the scent. She had pale cream fur and brilliant red hair, obviously unnatural but pretty all the same. Rurik was perhaps more used to odd bodily modifications as he was raised in Europe, where human civilization had taken far more of a hold in Luperci culture than this place. As it was, he was pierced in the eyebrow, ears, and nipple, and he had several tattoos to speak of. Without waiting for an invitation, the Russian scrabbled up the side of the building, latching onto the fire escape and scrambling up the creaky old thing in record speed, both because he feared for its stability and he was rather desperate to get at that sweet sticky-icky. Trapped on a boat with his kids, it had been nigh impossible to drink, let alone smoke, though he'd brought a tiny stash with him, nestled into a private part of the captain's quarters on the boat. Grinning from ear to ear, he settled down next to her and leaned in, inhaling sharply. "Spare a 'lil?" he asked, immediately reaching behind him for the flask of rum he kept on his person at all times, presenting the heavy, ornate silver thing in clear allusion to a trade. |