[P] asylum

Cypher Blackwater · 16 January 2017, 09:01 PM

The sound of the breeze rustling across semi-naked branches created a sombre ambience. With current events, the lingering heaviness of conflict settling forlornly across the land, one could become consumed with unease. It could lead to distracted minds and weary hearts. Most might end up finding themselves filled with suspicion and doubt, the prospect of a threat coming from anywhere. However, it would be considered rather ironic in hindsight, that the danger that had caused most damage and destruction to a particular Infernian’s life was not from some foreign outside source, but rather from nature itself – and not for the first time either. Perhaps it was some cruel joke, a way to remind the ashen male that nothing was in his control. First it had been the cave-in, and that had been bad enough – bringing up haunted memories of his childhood – and then, it seemed the trees had wished to wage war against him and him alone. This time, it came in the form of a single branch, crashing through the roof of his shelter and landing with a loud crash on the floor. One respite had been that the man hadn’t been inside – though he could only watch and give a mild comment of wit of “Another window, then.”

Cypher stood there now, examining the extent of the damage. The new hole wasn’t particularly large, perhaps the width of his arm span in Optime form. It was the fact that the bough had managed to tear of chucks from the surrounding materials that meant the Blackwater son would have to replace at least half his roof. Now in the throes of winter, it certainly wasn’t the most ideal time for such a thing to happen, but the man was rather determined to get it repaired in one day – for he was not going to resort living in the Mansion, or worse, the Caverns. No, the man from Chesapeake Bay couldn’t face doing that. It was still too soon since that last cataclysmic event, and his mind had already been torn asunder. To have to potentially go through that again would likely drive him to the edge. Between his own haunted nightmares and morbid waking moments, and the natural warfare that seemed to plague him, as well as now these strange nameless canines that lurked near Inferni, Cypher felt close to breaking point. The man had tried to maintain some kind of routine, hoping that even the mildest form of familiarity would keep him sane. But this? How much more could a single soul take?

The man carried his burden of a single heavy branch through the snow. It was slow going, Cypher aware that selecting the materials for repair would have to come under careful consideration. His mind was frequently a whirl of thoughts, though his outward manner suggested a kind of stoic calmness which was itself, a façade. The ashen and ivory coyote hybrid leaned the piece of wood carefully against the rear wall of the structure. He then reached up with his arms and jumped, grabbing hold of the guttered edge of the roof before pulling himself up with a strange kind of deftness. Pausing for a moment to gather himself, Cypher stared out across the forest, fancying for a moment that he could feel something watching him. Perhaps there was another member of Inferni out on patrol, it would be rather likely given the current events. The Blackwater son considered going to find someone to aid him, but the man didn’t wish to disturb the others should they be doing something more important. No, it might be best he did this alone, and once complete, he could get a fire going and prepare a simple meal – alone.
- Word Count: 621
  Form: Optime
  OOC: Backdated to some time before the 11th c; let me know if you need me to change anything!

Andrew Winthrop · 28 January 2017, 12:35 AM

[html]

Word Count → 260 :: I'm so sorry for the wait on this!

When Redtooth set out on a walk that morning, it had not been in search of work. Instead, he wanted to get a better feel for Inferni's claim as a whole. He spent most (if not all) of his time in the eastern reaches of the territory -- and now, after nearly two weeks of being a part of the community, Redtooth figured that it was time to see everything that Inferni had to offer. So, he set out toward the west. He had heard that there was a hot spring somewhere out there... and he was determined to find it so he could take a nice long dip.

Redtooth, however, did not find the hot spring. He instead found exactly the sort of thing that he hoped to avoid. Work. He watched from afar as some hapless fucker attempted to repair the giant hole in the roof of his ramshackle house. Redtooth, being a coywolf with a heart of gold, could not stand by without at least offering the stranger a helping hand. "You installing a skylight?" he asked, despite knowing that the stranger was doing nothing of the sort.

Skylight's were overrated any way... especially when it rained. Yeugh.

Redtooth began to walk in the stranger's direction. He looked up and introduced himself. "Name's Redtooth. You know, I can probably help you with this sort of thing. Iffen you need a hand, 'course." After all, this was Redtooth's area of expertise. Given a bit of time -- he could make the roof stronger than ever.

Cypher Blackwater · 26 February 2017, 10:22 PM

A casual disposition was not usually forthcoming from the man of Blackwater descent. When the canine from Chesapeake Bay found himself endowed with a some kind of task, more often than not, he would find himself wholly caught in the throes of such an action. Some might consider it a malediction of sorts, while certain others would inherently consider its merits. For the Infernian, he found himself deliberating on neither, presently more focused on achieving what he had planned rather than contemplating the reason on the matter. Cypher did however, find a certain irony that the trees of Infernian territory seemingly had a vendetta against him and he pondered if perhaps they held him in contempt for using them to carve. It was such a fanciful folly that the Blackwater son immediately cast the notion aside. He was just reaching down to grab the wood laid aside when a voice reached his darkened ears. Swivelling his head, those blue smoke eyes of his rested on the form of yet another earthen hued canine with a mop of ebony hair atop an angular head that suggested a heritage of both wolf and coyote. It was the words of the stranger though that would elicit a rather amused expression from the coy-hybrid, his typically stoic countenance fracturing.

“No,” he began before deadpanning, “Secret door.” Cypher had always found himself intrigued by those of a humorous demeanour largely in part to his own aloof temperament being counterbalanced by such creatures. Of course, there had been those who thought themselves more hilarious than they actually were, causing a different reaction from the Blackwater son entirely. However, the man from Chesapeake Bay fancied that even his sardonic outlook would not dissuade everyone from considering striking a friendship with him – but such a notion hadn’t had enough time to come to fruition as yet, mostly due to his own inaction to forge such relationships within Inferni in the first place. The other male offered an introduction, Redtooth, and attached the option of aid if should be desired. The Sciens allowed a snort to fall from his maw, a good natured grunt to signify the lack of façade despite what his apathetic appearance may suggest. “Cypher,” he intoned in turn, his low voice rumbling with a quiet kind of assertiveness that somehow managed to be non-threatening in nature. “And I wouldn’t say no to that help -especially if this is your sort of thing.” The man from Chesapeake Bay paused before adding, “Because I’m usually better at destroying things than fixing them.”

The statement was true enough, but held a lingering trace of self-depreciation in its wake. Thinking back to his previous exploits and the endeavours undertaken during his time with the Guild, Cypher was well aware of what could be implied with his revelation. The former mercenary was hoping that his fellow Infernian would not become discouraged and perhaps rescind his offer of help. In an attempt to ensure the latter did not come to pass, the ashen hybrid pointed out where he had laid the rest of his materials before speaking further. “You just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” the Sciens remarked, his tendency for working autonomously discarded for a task that warrant that sort of attention. Perhaps that was the real reason behind the tree’s vandalism – to force the Infernian to require aid from another. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, if one was to consider what had transpired with Dove and the cave in.
- Word Count: 586
  Form: Optime
  OOC: OMG, so so sorry for the wait on this D: I should be better from now on!

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