Good House Hunting

Evelyn Wood · 05-22-2011, 08:12 PM

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Date: May 22, 2011

Setting: Cercatori d'Arte Territory, Thornbury

Time: Mid to Late Afternoon

Character Form: Optime

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Table by Sie. ///

“Hmm. This house…” Evelyn held up her hands, her fingers forming a square as she peered through the shape she made, as if it helped her zeroed in on the building before her. It was a good-sized home, maybe three room tops. It was in good shape for a place that had survived over thirty years without anything besides maybe rodents crossing it threshold. The canine was looking over the home as if it was a piece of artwork, looking for any mistakes that her gaze can catch. She stared at it for a moment more, her stormy-blue eyes narrowed, and for a moment it looked as if she was about to approve of it, but she let out a small laugh under her breath, and turned her back from the house.

Evelyn Wood was only accepted into the pack lands a few hours ago, but the place was starting to rub off on her. So far, the territory was peaceful, and the most terrifying thing that she crossed paths with was a fat bumblebee that buzzed off to a field of flowers that she saw in the distance. It was as if the tranquility of the land was a like an essence, making the wolf seem more in peace with herself than she has for a while. But still, it gave the heebie-jeebies, just a little; such a cool place seemed kind of empty, but Evelyn just pushed that thought out of her mind. The wolf that accepted her in the pack said she could claim a house in Thornbury, where most of the pack lives, and she was bound to find one of them soon enough.

There has to be a good home around here somewhere, the wolfdog thought as she walked down the stone path, and out of boredom, started to fiddle with her orange-lens goggles. Many of the houses she pasted were okay, but it didn’t seem to fit Evelyn the right way, like a glove that was either too big or too small. She wanted to find one that would say that it was her home, not some cute little home that seemed at any moment some birds and deer will walk out of the surrounding woods and start doing laundry, which most of these houses were starting to appear to her.

Slade Auctor · 05-26-2011, 07:48 AM

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Hop you don't mind awkward Slade?

Since the meeting a few days ago, Slade had managed to divide his time fairly well between being inside the territory and out; for the most of it he'd be exploring more of Ethereal Eclipse, daring to get even farther with each outing, but he would always return to his den in the pack's land for the night. He had to admit, though, ever since being in a den with Deirdre his own had felt cramped.

This was why, on a sunny afternoon, Slade had decided not to rest; rather he would take a walk around Thornbury. He'd missed this place. This was where he had been taught how to read, met some of his pack mates, and so on. Taking in a deep smell of the town, he realized that there were many new scents since he had last come; there were still the familiar smells of Skye Collins and some other scattered canines he faintly recognized, but mixed among them were many newcomers. Well, as long as they didn't want to cause any trouble, that was fine with him.

Trotting down the "street" at an even pace, the coyote glanced around at the houses. Things were calm as usual. This pack was funny; it went from an explosion of drama, with all the murder and Shawchert leaving and whatnot, and the next day it was totally calm as if nothing had ever dared upset the land or its inhabitants. He couldn't help but notice that the somewhat familiar smells of Mars and Krystalle were stale, as if they hadn't been around for a while, but since he was already a fairly good reader he didn't need to visit. Still, he was missing something here; that made at least three canines who he knew had left. Gosh, he was out of touch with things around here, dramatic or otherwise.

As he took in another breath, one of the newcomer's scents hit his nose, though it seemed closer than usual. Halting his walk, he turned in the direction of the smell and sure enough saw an unfamiliar Luperci. It didn't matter if she looked somewhat young, yet again he was the inferior because he wasn't a Luperci. Bloody shifters. He was starting to get annoyed by the way he was never the tall one; he usually didn't care about this sort of thing, but he found it difficult to be more outgoing when whoever he tried to speak with towered over him.

Shaking his head, Slade noticed that the brown female seemed to by eyeing the various houses, as if deciding which one she liked. Well, at least that meant she was here to stay; he could name at least three canines off the top of his head that he had met once then never saw nor smelled again. Again, he was reminded that he knew virtually nothing about the way his pack was going, as far as newcomers and canines leaving were concerned.

Not wanting to stand there like a spy all day, Slade cautiously approached her--she didn't seem to have a weapon, but he had no idea what those odd orange things were she was holding--and cleared his throat a bit. "Looking for something?" An odd greeting, but as usual he found it difficult to converse with someone who he had to crane his neck up to look at.

#10+

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Evelyn Wood · 05-26-2011, 07:47 PM

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Table by Sie. /// I don't mind. Big Grin Sorry if Evelyn seems a little dense at times; she may be good with her hands, but she's not quite as good with making new friends.

Evelyn pasted by a few more houses, mainly obliviously to them because of their cozy, docile appearance, until she heard a voice from the side of her, but it was weirdly pitched. She glanced around at eye level first, but then it occurred to her to look down, and saw the reason why the voice she heard sounded odd; a four-legged coyote was standing a few feet away, which looked quite uncomfortable for some reason. “Hello!” the wolfdog greeted happily, glad to finally see one of the pack members, and slipped the goggles over her head and muzzle so that it fitted around her neck loosely. “And yes, you can say I’m looking for something, maybe you can help?”

It never really crossed her mind why a canine would be his feral form, or even if he was Luperci-inabled, but the female just assumed it was it preferred way of traveling. “I was hoping to find a building that is somewhat bigger than these here houses, like perhaps a…a…” The girl’s eyebrows furrowed in slight frustration, her mind unable to come up with a word to describe her desired place to live. “…Anyway, my name is Evelyn, Evelyn Wood,” she quickly recovered, flashing a toothy-grin, as if she planned to leave that sentence unfinished. But, in her mind, she was thinking how this impression would mark Slade; would he think that his new packmate was some loon, or just plain strange by nature, or just any other normal wolf looking for a home in the town of Thornbury?

Evelyn quickly pushed away the thoughts that started to tug at her mind, and continued down the weed covered street, assuming that the coyote was following her. For a moment she was silent, and then dug her hand in her bag that she wore around her shoulder, pulling out two rusty bolts, started to rub them in her hand, and asked casually, “So, anything interesting happening in Cercatori d’Arte lately?”

Slade Auctor · 05-31-2011, 05:26 PM

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You kiddin'? Slade is terrible at making friends.

Hello. The most obvious greeting to have ever been used in the world had completely evaded Slade's mind, and now he felt completely awkward staring up at her as she explained what she sought and gave an introduction. As if it wasn't bad enough having to look up at someone who was likely younger than him--he could tell that just from scent and the fact that she wasn't nearly as tall as some other Luperci he had seen--now he had to live with the fact that his greetings failed and always would fail. Wow. His life had just been getting worse since all of the drama, and that had been months ago already.

Trying not to show how annoyed he was with himself, Slade also realized that it was stupid to ask the female what she had been looking for. If she had been seeking something small he would have no idea how to find it. Instead, she was trying to find a suitable house, which he couldn't help at all. He wasn't sure why a Luperci couldn't just find a nice den and shift for the night and just shift back in the morning; of course, he wasn't a Luperci, either.

Reminding him of yet another thing he had managed to forget, the female introduced herself as Evelyn Wood, shooting him a rather silly-looking grin. Deciding not to comment on that, he replied, "I'm Slade, Slade Auctor."

He followed her as she began to walk away, wondering what those strange things around her neck were, trying to decide what he was going to say about the house. "I'm sorry, I asked you what you were looking for and thus suggested I was going to help you, but I have absolutely no idea what to look for in a house and thus would be no help whatsoever" didn't cut it. He was relieved when Evelyn spoke up again, changing the subject.

There had been too many "interesting" things happening in Cercatori d'Arte lately for Slade's liking, but he decided to leave his opinion out of his answer. He was already trying not to sound annoyed already, and injecting his response with a rant wasn't going to help. "Yeah," was his simple reply. "Shawchert's gone. There are new ranks. Pretty sure some of the members have left. The works."

#08+

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Evelyn Wood · 06-01-2011, 05:44 PM

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Slade seemed to be even more uncomfortable as she spoke, as if each word was making him more awkward. Evelyn’s goofy grin slowly disappeared until she had a slight frown; not one of disappointed or sadness, just one of confusion. She did not know how she was making the coyote ill at ease, and she wished that she knew so that she could stop doing whatever she was doing that was obviously wrong. But she did not want to go and outright ask him what was bothering him; it would just make matters worse, and Evelyn did not want to scare away Slade because... well, because of whatever she was doing. The hybrid first thought it was because of her not-so-charming first impression with the giant grin, since that did sometimes throw other people off, but then she decided it could not be that, since Slade did not seem to be all too bothered about her smile, more like something else.

After a few more moments of rolling the two bolts in her hand, she packed them back into a pocket on her bag. But then something occurred to her, and glanced down at her clawed hands. While she was on two legs, Slade was on four, and he was wearing paws instead of hands, and did not sport any human clothing, unlike her, even staring at her goggles as if it was a weapon, when it was a harmless accessory like any Luperci would know… Maybe that was it? Maybe he was not a Luperci? Evelyn had met some wolves, who did not carry the virus in a very uncomfortable situation before, and she knew those canines that did not shift did not like creatures like her, but at least this man was not as hostile as them. As it dawned on her, the more it made sense; she would not have liked to be looked down upon, especially from someone nearly four feet taller than her.

As her brain became frantic to think of a way to somehow make the situation better for Slade without saying anything to make him uncomfortable, the coyote started to answer her casual question about the pack. “S-Shawchert?” Evelyn asked in a nervous tone, but soon cleared her voice with a cough to rid of it; she need not to show her inner emotions so easily. “Who was he?” The hybrid was also curious as to why some pack members left, but her mind was busy thinking about the height situation, and also did not want to pressure Slade with too many questions.

WC: 430 +3

Slade Auctor · 06-16-2011, 07:47 AM

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Talkative Slade is talkative.

Maybe bringing up Shawchert had been a mistake. Slade had no idea how long the pack's founder had been missing; when Evelyn joined, Shawchert would have likely been gone. Now he had to tell her who Shawchert was and why he had left, even though the brindled coyote's own feelings about the former leader were still unclear. This conversation was just getting more and more... odd. What a way to live life.

After trying and failing to figure out an answer, Slade spoke and tried to keep his opinion out of his words. "Shawchert founded this pack," he started, trying to remember his conversation with the man that they had had months ago, earlier in the year. "He was a good wolf, a fair leader who did his job well. I only got the chance to see him five times in my life, but only once was he... not himself."

Slade soon found himself talking as if narrating a story, which helped the words to come much more easily, even if he wasn't able to conceal his opinion any more. "The last time I saw him... it was a few months ago. He had called the pack to a meeting, but he hadn't been himself; he was pacing, and everyone else who was already there weren't happy. I was the only one who had no idea what was going on." His voice started to rise as he remembered the least pleasant of encounters with Shawchert. "Then when the meeting started. Shawchert told us about a murderer who had been lurking in the pack. This killer had killed Shawchert's son, an innocent puppy, and wounded one of the pack's members. Even throughout this, Shawchert managed to give a hopeful speech.

"The meeting ended with one of the members" --Slade tried to keep Mars out of this, especially since he was sure that the multicolored man had left the pack-- "making a fuss. None of us left happy that day.

"That was the last time I saw him," Slade concluded, forgetting that he had already mentioned this fact. "Next thing I knew, I didn't see him at any pack meetings that the other leader, Skye Collins--maybe you've met her?--called. I went to his house to see where he was... and he was gone." With that final word, Slade stopped his story. If he had gone on he would have started to talk about how Shawchert had left without a trace, didn't even give the pack a farewell, hadn't bothered to stick around long enough for Skye's puppies to be born so she wouldn't have to have the burden of motherhood and leadership.

Slade shook his head, realizing just how much he had spoken. If only he could start a conversation as easily as he could ramble.

#03+

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Evelyn Wood · 06-16-2011, 11:08 PM

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Though Evelyn was having a fitful thinking about her taller form, she couldn’t help but be distracted by Slade’s tale. His story-telling voice almost made her feel like she was there; she imagined a male wolf striding in front of her, his stance stiff with maybe anger that there was a murderer in his pack, or perhaps anguish with the loss of his family. He could see the hurt in his eyes, but power in his voice as she thought up his speech, speaking words of hope and comfort. Then the other, the unnamed Mars, confronting the man, and it played out like a movie scene in her mind. She was never told stories, truth or fiction, as a younger pup, and this enthralled Evelyn that one could bend words into images in her mind. Though this tale sadden the hybrid, it made her hungry for stories, more words that created pictures in her mind. Oh, if only this Luperci could read, the places she could go without leaving far away, but yet she somehow just couldn’t read, not matter how hard she tried.

Completely forgetting about her earlier fuss, she replied to Slade’s question, “Yeah, I met her once, but it was very short and brief. The most I got was her name, and that she was the new leader and gardener for the pack.” Unbeknownst to Evelyn that the Captain was a mother, she found the woman to be pleasant, and now that she was reminded of her, hoped to meet her again and know her better. Maybe create something to help her garden that she described that she had right here in Thornbury, to show that she was grateful for her home in d’Arte. There was a pause in talking between the two canines, and Evelyn stared at the houses they were passing by, none of them yet sparking her interest; looking for an appealing home was harder than the girl thought, and probably a boring task to share with another, especially one who’d didn’t seem interested in them at all.

Without looking away from the building, she asked to break the awkward silence, “Anyway, I learned that when I joined, Cercatori d’Arte is a pack of many talents. What’s yours?” She was sure that the coyote hybrid wasn’t interested in her own abilities, but if he asked, she’d tell him; at the moment she wanted less attention on her, and more on Slade.

WC: 407 +3

Slade Auctor · 06-17-2011, 06:12 PM

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Fortunately for Slade, his story had taken away the awkward silence for a moment, but unfortunately it returned after Evelyn told him what she knew about Skye. Slade didn't have much extra information to offer about the Capitana, and he hadn't been asked to tell anything. Thus the coyote was left wondering how he could come up with a nice little narrative out of the blue, and tried to apply that unknown reason to conversation starting. Ah, if only....

Evelyn hadn't seemed like the type of wolf who would put up with a silence for a long time, which she proved by coming up with another question: Slade's rank. Oh boy, this topic again. Even though the very simple answer had been "I'm a writer," things had changed. There were new ranks in the pack, as he had mentioned earlier; what had they been called again? Now that he tried to think back, he wasn't sure. There were, what, traditional art ranks, performing art ranks, merchant ranks, and even livestock ranks. That was all he could remember; had Skye told the exact names of the ranks at all? Had she even told each individual member what their new rank even was? If so he couldn't remember.

Usually his problem with this question was that he was a writer who couldn't write. Now the issue was that he had absolute no idea whatsoever which rank he had been put in after the changes. He was left unable to talk for a good while, trying to come up with how to answer this. It was no use making something up, but if he admitted that he had no idea he'd just sound stupid. Eventually he decided to use a short and to-the-point answer: "Writer." Well, he wasn't lying; he didn't say that he was a writer at this very moment. Slade had a feeling that Evelyn would push the subject, but he'd have to come up with more answers when she did.

Why could he narrate events that had happened months ago and answer difficult questions without too much hesitation when it took him forever to start a conversation?

#03+

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Evelyn Wood · 06-17-2011, 09:14 PM

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Evelyn was hoping for a simple response from Slade as they walked beside each other. She was told the rank groups only once, but didn’t go into detail about each single different-language title for the various talents. If the coyote started to speak literal Latin, she wouldn’t know what to say, much less comment about it. Though his answer was easy to understand what he does in the pack, it made it no better for the girl as she listened to his answer. A writer. No wonder he was a good storyteller, she thought, and started to slightly gnaw on her lower lip, trying to think of how to continue the conversation without too deep of a silence.

Though she did wonder how he wrote without thumb, if he wasn't able to have one, became a mystery to her, Evelyn said, “Well, I’m a crafter, nothing really exciting there…” She knew from experience from her old pack that most wolves who read did not find making things like she does interesting, rather to talk about more “intelligent topics” than to indulge in mindless talks about hitting a piece of wood with an axe. “Anyway, um, wrote any good stories lately?” Stupid question, she then thought, wishing she didn’t just say that; he might not even be Luperci, by the way she judged his demeanor.

She stopped quite suddenly, happening to catch sight of a building that snagged her attention. It didn’t look remarkable, in fact in a worse shape than the other two dwellings that stood beside it. It was slightly bigger than a regular house, more like a store, and it was mostly made out of wood, which probably lead to its bad condition; the lumber had rotted and collect mold over the years of abandonment, from rain, snow, and heat. Anyone else would have probably pasted it up, looking for something that was in better shape than this, but what Evelyn saw was potential. Without saying a word to Slade, she suddenly walked up to the building, peering into its knocked-out windows.

WC: +3

Slade Auctor · 06-19-2011, 08:27 PM

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Word Count » 318

Evelyn answered the unasked question of what her rank was, which was a crafter. Simple enough; Slade had seen Shawchert crafting a chunk of wood into a mini tree. The art didn't interest him much, even though he might have found it a bit more intriguing had he been able to try it himself. A short silence went by as he contemplated this--if he would find certain activities more enjoyable had he been able to perform them-- but the Luperci once again came up with a question. Well, the answer to that was somewhat complicated: Slade couldn't write without hands, and he wasn't completely certain if his stories fit Evelyn's definition, whatever it was, of "good".

As he tried to think of an answer, Evelyn stopped in her tracks, causing Slade to look up and try to follow her gaze in confusion and slight fear; was whatever she had halted to see a cause of concern? His wariness quickly died when he noticed she was looking at a building, its wood rotted and undeniably old. How could a place of this condition manage to keep standing to this day? It was obvious that nobody or very few Luperci had bothered to help fix it; to Slade it looked like the roof could cave in at any moment.

The fact that he failed to see the attraction to the wooden structure made him even more surprised when the girl walked up to one of its broken windows. Had she managed to spot something that he couldn't see due to their height difference? Slade trotted up to her, taking a quick sniff of the building; it was currently unclaimed and hadn't been occupied for a very long time. When the fact that Evelyn had been looking for a house suddenly reoccurred to the coyote, he could only stare up at her in even more confusion. "See something interesting in there?"

Evelyn Wood · 06-20-2011, 08:56 PM

[html]Lalalala. We can end this thread with this post, or Slade can contemplate her santiy. <3

Evelyn, at that moment, just went blank as she looked into the empty house. The interior was as glamorous as the outside; the glass from the window had fallen into the store, some papers that looked squishy covering up most off the shards of glass, as well as other spots all over the floor in the room. Old shelves were on the left side of the room, bearing nothing but dirt and an old wrapper that Evelyn assumed that belonged to the humans, besides of its fainted colors and out of place writing all over it. On the right, was a mossy brick fireplace, some of the red stones scattered near it, as well as a counter with something metal on it, which she would learn later on was a cash register. Though the outside looked pretty bad, its innards were in worse condition. And the hybrid’s eyes were eating up its broken shape with an excited gleam in them.

“Yeah, I do,” she finally replied to Slade without even giving a glance at his expression. After a moment longer of looking into the building, she finished her statement, “I see something that I can live in.” The coyote probably would have deemed her crazy right then and there, she thought, but she didn’t care. By sudden impulse, she rushed away from the window and to the door; it was ajar already, but she was careful not to damaged it further, even though she was impatient to take a closer look of the place she found interest. It didn’t look better than it was from the window, nor did she give regard that the store might even crumble, something in her gut telling her this was a perfect place.

Something she could build upon, make her own. Sure, she could have found something that was in better shape to clean up and look pretty, but the girl’s mind couldn’t stand that, finding it a waste to her rank. As a crafter, she wanted, needed, to create something new from something old. This store was the near definition of old, and a calling probably only a craftsman would understand filled her heart as she continued to look over the room that once sold human things that only the she could imagine. If she worked hard enough, maybe, just maybe she could let others see this house as she envisioned it. And that enough would be worth it all in the end.

WC: +3

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