[aw] grow a stone sanctuary
#1
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Setting Location Form NPCs
Location: Hades Beach, IF

Date: 11 July* (Backdated)

Weather: Clear, very warm, sunny

Time: Late morning
Optime





(305)



Myrika is by me!

Leadership hadn't been exceedingly difficult or different, as Myrika saw it. Thus far, she'd only had to do a few things -- and even those she was almost used to, thanks to what Ezekiel had done before he'd left. Though she was perhaps the last to realize it, her cousin had put her through a rigorous sort of training in order to prepare her for this role. She'd served as a scout and she'd served as a historian, cataloguing the clan's history. Perhaps the only thing he hadn't taught her was how to fight -- but then again, maybe Ezekiel had known better.

Her knuckles, arms, legs, and just about everywhere else ached from the beating she'd taken at Remy's hands. Ithiel was just as frequent a partner as the Cajun, of course, but the redhead sometimes thought her cousin took it easy on her when he might have beaten a man bloody. Remy afforded her no such luxuries, as the bruises could attest quite easily. Though invisible through her fur, the hybrid felt purple and swollen in more places than she knew.

It was for this reason the redhead was simply relaxing this morning. She'd ridden Cahal along the beach for some distance, and upon finding a suitable spot, sprawled out. Her lengthy body was made even lengthier by the stretch of her legs. Her arms were tucked up beneath her head, pillowing it, and her turquoise eyes were lidded. The sun was bright and merry today, a rare clear day on the Bay of Fundy, and she intended to make good use of it. Her horse munched on the long shore grasses, a few feet away. Cahal never wandered far and even if he left her entirely, he would not leave the clan's territory.

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#2
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(444) Foredating the hell out of it time! I think it'd be the 27th.



Vesper is by Sie!

Vesper woke up late and sore. She lifted her head from the limestone floor, and immediately something felt wrong; her throat felt exposed, and she bristled instinctively before her eyes found the rosary discarded in the corner of the cavern. Her anxiousness flooded her with energy, and she didn't stumble as she stepped over to it, nudging her nose underneath and wiggling it down onto her neck with some effort.


The faint pressure of the beads against her windpipe brought back memories of the previous day, and she shut her eyes for a moment as she confronted the images. She came to terms with them, just as she came to terms with any near-disaster, and discarded any overwhelming feelings to be considered when it wasn't time to patrol. It simply wasn't in her nature to hole up and panic after something even worse than this; she'd been figuratively dry-eyed during the war, and managed to shove aside her childish feelings when she was a child. At least, she told herself this had to be so, and with a stiff upper lip she stepped out into the bright morning sunlight.


The assault on her constricting pupils was enough to convince her that patrolling could hold off for the day; Stark would chew her out if she worked any harder than she needed to today, and a grumpy paternal raven was the last thing she wanted to deal with. Scowling, she considered what she could do; there were plenty of responsibilities for her as Centurion to take care of but, fortunately or unfortunately, none came to mind. Surely, she could go around raising a cry about the single poacher in Drifter Bay, but she wanted nothing to do with the goddamn horses right now.


Vesper shifted into optime to adjust the beads (her neck was sore, and the tactile memories did not help) and, oddly childishly for a woman who'd revoked her childhood, stomped westward, following the natural curve of the cave formations toward where the rivers flowed into the bay. The beach was one of those places she rarely frequented, mostly because it wasn't very pretty or apparently useful, but the moment she recognized the horse grazing along the shoreline, she was glad she had come.


She breathed in the salty air, and the somewhat-horsy coyote scent teased a rare smile onto her lips. She quickened her pace, fumbling over the scattered stones but never appearing to lose her balance; she shifted her weight constantly and easily, wavy but fluid. No doubt she made noise, but the second she caught sight of that pretty red-striped face, she announced herself with a smooth greeting.


Good morning, gorgeous!

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#3
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(371) AHHA. Also as I am writing this, Vesper's at 665 posts. YOUR NEXT POST IS THE DEVIL.


Myrika is by Aly!

A leader who could not, of their own merit, hold their position was likely to have a short reign, Myrika thought. While many of the clan had proclaimed their support, the make-up of Inferni might not always be so forgiving to someone with nary an idea of how to fight someone. Though she'd killed -- twice -- the redhead still did not consider herself anything remotely resembling a fighter. Halo had done for the first one, or at least part-way, and Vesper had helped with the second. She'd never fought entirely on her own before, and when she trained, she was more likely to come out the sore loser by far. So, in her mind, she certainly was not a warrior, and therefore might precariously hold her position in the future. The only thing to do was get better, but getting better hurt.

At least the warmth of the day was helping some -- the sunlight beaming down on her seemed to melt away some of her aches. If only the beach had more sand than rocks, she could even pretend she was somewhere far south. She'd never seen what she considered a real beach. All of the coastlines near Inferni were rocky, cliff-like, or otherwise entirely foreboding. They were nothing like the white sand and pale blue sea described in her novels. The sound of shifting stones, too, ruined the effect. Her brow knit and her half-lidded eyes closed completely, only to reopen when the sound of movement grew louder still.

She reopened her eyes and turned her head toward the source of the noise as Vesper called her greeting. The Aquila's smile was immediate, and she sat up -- too quickly. Her ears went flat with the subsequent wince. A tawny hand rubbed gingerly at her shoulder. Sore morning, she corrected. How are you? She was pleasantly surprised to see the Centurion's slim two-legged body, and kept smiling through her invitation. Come and enjoy the stones with me. Her hand dropped to scatter a few of the rocks, exposing more small stones beneath. Thankfully, more were ocean-smoothed than sharp and jagged, so it was not as uncomfortable as it might have been.

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#4
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(304) DEVIL POST DEVIL POST



Vesper is by Sie!


She smiled to see her Aquila -- and her obvious excitement to see Vesper, too. Myri was different from the other girls in that she found herself desiring comfort and attention from her, rather than selflessly and nobly giving it like she had with Juniper and Blind. It forced her to take her pride down a few notches, to crave affection as much as she gave, but she was glad for it. Equality made this seem all more real.


Her smile disappeared quite quickly when the mahogany-haired woman winced and grabbed at her shoulder. Even though her correction didn't seem bitter or pained, Vesper couldn't keep but growing protective and concerned. She ignored her question, her ear tilting forward and a frown contorting the scars on her muzzle. What's the matter? she asked quickly, not quite grasping how normal this should be. After all, many a coyote walked around Inferni sore from constant sparring and other work -- but she wasn't used to seeing Myrika this way, Aquila or not. That, and her run-in the previous night had fixed her on the danger setting; she could only assume the worst.


Vesper lightened up at the invitation and the lack of obvious injuries, and she picked her way down the rocky beach before sitting beside Myrika. She wriggled a bit on the bumpy ground, trying to get comfortable, and chuckled as she realized she probably looked ridiculous. In the end, she gave up and lay back with a huff, staring at the sunny sky. Should I be enjoying them yet? she asked, but a hand reached out toward Myrika's to hold it and let her know she was at least enjoying the company. The other toyed with the rosary around her neck, inadvertently drawing attention to the rumpled fur there.

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#5
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(OOC Summary) There was talkinga bout the horses or something prior to this post. O:


Myrika is by me!

So we have to protect them, Myrika continued. She didn't like her co-leader's near-silence, the short few words. Did she know, or was she just pretending to understand so as not to annoy Myrika? The redhead ran a thumb over Vesper's muzzle, tracing the outline of her cheek. Are you sure you're okay? Though the scarred woman seemed bright and merry enough upon her approach, now Myri was not so sure. She regarded the woman with apprehension, wondering if she had done something to earn Vesper's displeasure.

I mean, she continued, finding it difficult to shut up in the face of so much stoic silence. If you wanted to learn how to ride or anything about horses, I'll help you. Whatever you want. Myrika shifted uncomfortably and dropped her hand, finding it easier to skim through the pebbles and sand than it was to maintain contact that now felt almost awkward, in a way it had not for some time. She would have expected them -- well, herself, mostly -- to be done and over with any lingering feelings of confusion or awkwardness. I don't want you to think we're protecting the horses for nothing.

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#6
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(--) Man everything about this post is lame and contrived. Maybe I will feel better about it in the morning. >__>; Also shove me if you need more to reply to, because Ves is being taciturn again.



Vesper is by Sie!


Vesper did understand the reasoning behind protecting the animals, although maybe at the level she claimed to. It was logical because they were useful, but it was even more important simply because they belonged to Inferni. They could be corralling turtles and she’d fight tooth and claw to defend them. It was her nature, but it also conflicted with a deeper, more instinctual nature; that and the fact she’d nearly given her life for the sake of an old fleabitten grey nag caused tension within her.

Myrika brushed her cheek with a thumb, asking if she was okay, and Vesper found that she could meet the other’s turquoise gaze as she nodded another lie. She was not used to others worrying about her and found it tedious, especially because it was all in the past. She was alive, relatively sore but uninjured, and she would get better. Only if she didn’t get better did she find it acceptable to be fussed over—although she had to admit that, deep down, she liked the contact and the concern, because it meant Myri cared.

But then the redheaded Aquila went on, offering her lessons, which any other time Vesper might have graciously declined. This morning, it only served to annoy her, and her good ear twitched as the Lykoi woman went back to picking at pebbles. I don’t need it, she shrugged, referring to the skills themselves although her words could just as easily meant the help.

At the last statement, the coywolf wrinkled her nose briefly. No, it’s fine, she said, a bit too curtly.


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#7
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<3


Myrika is by me!

Though Myrika remained unconvinced, she realized it was probably a good time to stop talking. And despite her realization, when she ceased, the little words Vesper offered only served to alarm her more, and reaffirm her notion of present silence's unendurable awkwardness. Her big ears went half-flat, then all the way flat, then half-way again, and she picked at one of the larger of the stones beneath her hand. With a half-hearted toss, she threw it into the bay. An oncoming wave swallowed whatever splash the pebble might have made.

Did I make you angry? she murmured, meek as a Quintus might have addressed her. You're really quiet. There was no accusation in her voice, but plenty of apprehension. She might have insisted too much about the horses, or talked to much, or maybe Vesper really was angry about the change in leadership -- maybe it was as serious as feeling slighted over this? If so, why had she even asked? It wasn't as if Vesper would have told her these things if she was feeling them -- or at least, Myrika wouldn't have told anyone, if she had been in the Centurion's place with those feelings.

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