'Souls RPG

Full Version: [m] the age of worry
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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Specifically, this thread is marked mature because of: marked m for suggested sensualness - just in case! .

Odalis disappeared before he woke, snatching up a collection of parchment and knives that he had hidden deep in his ruck-sac.

She had awoken at first dawn, catching the shade of sunlight that patterned the edge of the traveller’s tent. They had met the night before at a nearby camp, happy to trade stories until the night grew dark and deep. He was handsome, with a narrow face and a pair of bright eyes that did not seem to dim. It was simple enough to guide them where she wanted, sorting through personalities until one stuck long enough to move ground.

Come winter trades like this would grow more difficult as the snows settled into Nova Scotia. So far, summer had provided her with a small bounty that she had been able to share with Marina. The young woman had new clothes now, dresses that were altered and sewn by Salsolan hands. The Ancella did what she could to assure her place in the Thistle Kingdom, but often she leaned on the hospitality of strangers in order to get ahead.

As she went she looked over her shoulder a final time, mounting her horse and kicking her heels to urge the creature into a quiet retreat. They slipped silently through the trees, and when they were finally certain they were away and free they picked into a gallop that set her towards the borders of Salsola. The horse glowed pale white in the early morning light, stippled with tiny freckles as if they had ridden through a puddle of mud.

The wind whipped through her fiery red hair and plucked at the ruffles on her dress. The pair only stopped when they spotted a curl of smoke in the distance that swirled like the end of a question mark.

Odalis tutted softly and turned her horse towards the smudge in the sky.




(///) | NPCs: n/a

OOC » I hope you don't mind me! I missed threading with you! <3


He’d noticed the campfire at first as a distant glow the previous evening, from his vantage point on one of the region’s rocky hills. Part of him thought to approach, to seek warmth and company for the night, but the wound from the last unhappy stranger he’d met — though treated — still itched and ached sometimes. And, as well-intentioned as he was, Odysseus knew that the amount of weaponry he carried was not reassuring.

So instead he waited, sapping heat from the stones on the hillside, until he woke beneath a crepuscular grey sky. Looking down, he could see that the dot of firelight was gone, replaced by a plume of smoke — a campsite quickly abandoned. Perhaps something would be left behind.

When the brindle hound reached the smoldering remains of the fire, his eyes watering from the smoke, he was sorely disappointed. Some pawprints suggested that a smaller Luperci had settled here; smaller pawprints and some shed cat fur suggested that that Luperci was an ailurophile. A couple fishbones lay in the dirt along a glitter of errant scales. He sniffed around, but other than some biological information about the squatter, he found little else — no abandoned treasures.

Sighing, Odie brushed his silky black hair from his face, then tensed at the drum of hoofbeats in the near distance. His hand instinctually drifted toward the hilt of his shortsword, but then he put both in the pockets of his trousers instead, tilting his chin up curiously at the figure on the horizon.

As horse and rider approached, a grin split his dark muzzle. Buenos días.


Kidd veered off course and Odalis was forced to correct her with a gentle tutting of her tongue. The old mare had taken a long time to trust the women who cared for her, and though Marina was all too happy to comb her mane and feed her apples… Odalis needed her in order to travel. Sh had picked apart the animals braided mane before departing, but there were still signs of Marina everywhere – ribbons hidden in the base of her saddle bags, a single thin braid hidden in the thick grey brush of Kidd’s tail.

Odalis knew where to find her if she looked hard enough.

A low snort of warning caught her off guard, and she turned in the saddle with a subtle narrowing of her eyes. She had never had a keen sense for danger – she had been born with a strange sort of fire that pushed her to snap at hands that sought to feed her. The figure who crouched in the shadows of the forgotten camp was dark and soft looking, with a length of hair that curled slightly at the ends. It framed a long nose and dark eyes, a subtle striping that rose and fell along his arms and disappeared into the hem of his clothes.

The Spanish had her mouth fall open, a flash of surprise igniting across her features before she tempered it with a measured curiousity.

”Hola.” She canted her head, <”You seem to be far from home?”>

Odalis flared her nostrils, but there was little on the air she was able to pick up besides the overwhelming scent of smoke and burnt grass.

She switched back to english as she shifted her weight on her horse. Kidd seemed nervous in the presence of a stranger.

"This yours?"

(///) | NPCs: n/a

Astonishment did something lovely to the woman’s face, parting her lips, widening her cerulean eyes a fraction (one clouded with an intriguing scar), before she tilted her head and spoke in that warm, gliding tongue.

The familiarity made his ears stir, but his smile turned a little sharper. <”It depends on what you mean by home.”> His place of birth was nearly as irrelevant as his family name; he’d forsaken all these things when he stole onto that ill-fated ship.

<”Perhaps I’m right where I want to be,”> he added, but his grin turned more genuine, lighting his amber eyes with amusement. A playful lie.

He glanced at the remnants of the campfire when the stranger indicated it, though he kept her — and her nervous, fleabitten-grey horse — in the corner of his eye. “No,” he admitted, following her lead in languages, his accent a subtle flair as he continued. “I saw the fire last night, wasn’t sure if anything interesting had been left behind.” He stooped to pick up a fishbone, then flicked it back into the dirt, lips tugged aside in a grimace.

”What about you?” Odysseus asked, his gaze flitting over the ruffles of her dress and the glow of her red hair in the dawn-light. <”Are you an opportunist far from home, too?”>