[P] The smile that beats in your chest
#1
[html]
Pixie Serene
Come on, skinny love

What happened here?

Pour a little salt we were never here'


Pixie was beginning to grow used to the cold. It wasn't comforting, by any means, but thanks to her thick coat and adequate shelter it was bearable. She resided in a sizeable building that was made of stone, much like many of the other buildings that had survived in this area. She was equipped with a make-shift broom of small twigs secured to a larger, sturdier branch. There was a lot that would need to go into making this house a home but for now, she did what she could. She dragged the broom along the ground and shifted the dirt until it was in a neat pile before sweeping it out the door. Years of not being largely unattended had left the room in a state of disarray. In the back of the residency, there was an old, tattered mattress she had covered with a few furs. One to serve as a barrier between the aged mattress and a few on top for warmth.


They had been left largely unscathed by the earthquake but there were still repairs to be done. The animals seemed to be especially on edge, which was justified. Their discomfort only fueled her own. She didn't understand this extreme weather any more than they did. She wasn't sure but it seemed like the Earth who she revered so much shook beneath her very paws. She wondered what could have made it tremble so. The high tide that followed had been one of the scariest things she had ever experienced. She felt like if it had such a desire the ocean could easily reach out and just swallow them whole... Things were just so unpredictable. The wolf took a deep breath. As frightening as things may be sometimes she was convinced they would get better. They had too. New Caledonia was still in its youth and had already survived so much. It was just a matter of time before things would find a steady rhythm. The animals would return to their pens, the ocean would calm, and everything would be alright. They could only go up from here... Or so she hoped.



She took a moment to set fire to the wood she collected earlier that resided in the fireplace. She knew that to truly keep out the cold she would have to cover the open windows but the lit fire warmed up the room nonetheless. She felt better having a place to lay her head that she could return to regularly. Sleeping out under the stars didn't bother her but it seemed to be growing colder. This residency would surely come in handy.

The wolf grew alert, smelling an unfamiliar scent nearby. It was almost certainly another packmate from New Caledonia but one unfamiliar to her. It was unlikely an intruder would have made it this far unto pack territory unscathed so she didn't have any hesitation-- Pixie made her way towards the open door to scope out this individual. Hopefully, they were as friendly as most other Caledonians had been.




Optime form. Table by Silverfrost! 500+
<style>
.PIXIE {width:100%;margin:0px auto; float:center;}
.PIXIE-name {font-size:30px; text-align:center; font-family: Georgia;}
.PIXIE-lyrics {text-align:center; font-size:14px;font-family: 'Times'; line-height:13px;}
.PIXIE-post {border-top: 1px dashed;margin:10px;}
.PIXIE p {font-family: 'Georgia', serif; font-size:15px;text-align:left; text-indent:30px;line-height:120%;}
.PIXIE b {font-family: 'Times', serif;font-size:18px;}
.PIXIE table.ooc {width:100%;text-align:center; border-top:1px dashed;}
.PIXIE td.chat {width:75%; font-family: 'Courier', monospace; font-size:15px;}
.PIXIE td.wc {font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size:18px;text-align:right;padding-right:15px;}
</style>
[/html]
[html]

<div class="pixiesig">
<div id="signature-icons">
<a href="#!" class="accompaniment" title="Character is typically accompanied by a white stoat named Pippin!"></a>
<a href="#!" class="optime-preference" title="Preference for Optime form."></a>
<a href="#!" title="I will roleplay mature material." class="will-mature"></a>
<a href="LINK" title="OPEN FOR THREADS!" class="open-for-threads"></a>
<a href="#!" class="reply-medium" title="REPLY SPEED: MEDIUM"></a>

</div>
</div>
<style>
@import url('/images/icons/postsig/signature-icons.css');
</style>


<a href='https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipOLcIUJMvGaKF2-T00ecSyc0kbi2HBuXtAAJ5RoPe-9KrMhT5uFUS9a6heOTOAnRA?key=enNmRENWNFNGWk9adXRHejB2YW5KbTBGYTJGRGh3&source=ctrlq.org'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/dz_RdLD11x3OfzRJzlfdgGwG1UrKBIu4KYj7HlVyiYiNAJ6R4jrLr0x5t7x7DcB8oWy1gtv63-WAfzVMNf2RT_UFpB9LdmfN06OrmV4aUL75U1pP5nCjAxjth7H4jlh09xsy20ixyg=w2400' /></a>
[/html]

Pixel courtesy of Nat
Credit for avatar goes to Trash-king
#2
[html]<style>
.calanbokehlights {width:650px; margin:0px auto; font-family:'merriweather'; text-align:justify;}
.calanbokehlights p {margin:0px 5px -10px 5px; text-indent:25px; font-size:14px; line-height:25px; padding:10px 0px 10px;}
.calanbokehlightsimg {line-height:68px; background-image:url('https://imgur.com/Hs6GL5M.png'); border:1px solid #000; background-repeat:no repeat; height:60px; background-position: top center;}
.calanbokehlightsimgbot {line-height:53px; background-position:bottom center; margin-top:10px;}
.calanbokehlights b {font-size:15.5px;}
.calanbokehlights b.npc {filter:alpha(opacity=75%); opacity:.75;}
.calanbokehlights-bar {line-height:25px; width:100%; margin:0px auto; border-collapse:collapse;}
.calanbokehlights-ooc {font-size:12px; font-family:'verdana'; text-align:left; width:70%; opacity:.7; padding-left:5px; vertical-align:middle;}
.calanbokehlights-wc {font-size:12px; font-family:'verdana'; text-align:right; width:30%; padding-right:5px; letter-spacing:4px; font-weight:bold;}
.calanbokehlights-credit {font-size:10px; opacity:.7; font-family:verdana; text-align:center; padding-top:1px;}
</style>

just your friendly neighbourhood RA checkin' in [+468]



Despite the lingering taste of fear in the air from the previous day’s earthquake, this day had gone off without a hitch. Calan had awoken early to make his way to the luckily still-intact Town Square, wares in hand, hoping to pass along the goods that others would need for a fair price - tools, pots, and the odd flask or two of moonshine. Most of his inventory had been bought out by mid-afternoon, but chat with the locals - and a couple shared drinks - had kept him out longer. Still, when the cold shifted from irksome to downright scathing, his fingers and toes numb with it, Calan had waved his adieus and walked his way back to his home. Just a normal day’s work.


The stone hut he’d claimed as his own was centrally located, making it easy for all to stop by for whatever they may need. He’d picked it because of the doors it had on either side of the rectangular structure, making it easy to separate his living and trading quarters; him one way, guests another. Still, the area was relatively uninhabited. There were still not that many of them in New Caledonia, after all, despite the continued influx of refugees and vagabonds. It would be a while until it truly felt like a neighbourhood. For now, he could enjoy the peace and quiet.


He’d just rounded the bend when he saw, flickering through the windows, a kind of orange light, so subtle it felt almost like a mirage. Fire? He pursed his lips in thought, slowing down to investigate the new phenomenon. This was the first time he’d ever seen any kind of life in the building, apart from the occasional squirrel. It would be nice to have a neighbour… as long as they weren’t a total asshole. Then again, he trusted Athras and Iomair not to accept anyone who would identify as such. It wouldn’t hurt to pop in and say hello, he supposed - after all, he’d already accomplished all of his tasks for the day. Maybe they’d be interesting entertainment?


“Oh,” he yelped more than he truly said, stiffening in surprise at the sudden new face that popped out of the same doorway he’d just intended to poke into.Looks like someone had the same idea as me. The snowy white face that greeted him seemed friendly enough, her eyes shining with curiosity, but his gaze immediately jumped to the scar across her face, followed by the vivid pink of her hair. He’d never seen anything quite like it before. He looked back to her face once more, ice-blue eyes meeting amber. "Er, sorry, I’ve just never seen anyone in this home before. You must be new here." Forever stating the obvious. "I’m Calan. Are you settling in okay?"

template by veldt, image by @thesollers
[/html]
#3
[html]
Pixie Serene
Come on, skinny love

What happened here?

Pour a little salt we were never here'


Her ears erected at the sound of a yelp-- Clearly not one of pain, but of surprise. She hadn't intended to catch him that much off-guard. Perhaps not the best way to greet someone but he seemed to recover quickly. The whole display was borderline comical, if not a bit adorable. He recovered quickly and projected an aura of confidence. She smiled. "Didn't mean to frighten you."


Pixie checked out the fellow (quite obviously) with curious eyes from head to toe. He was beautiful and a dog, no less. She always did find them fascinating. His fur was long and if she had to guess probably extremely soft. She took pride in her coat, herself, but dogs sometimes had a feel to their fur that piqued her interest. He towered over her somewhat but she found that was quite common in these parts. Despite the size difference she was undeterred and closed the distance between them a bit to sniff the unfamiliar male. He smelled of a mixture of things but the one she found the most notable was a hint of mint. She wondered if it was purposeful use of the scent. Whatever the reason, she enjoyed the fresh smell. She wagged her tail, pleased with her findings. "I'm Pixie." She stepped back to give him some room. "I've been here some moons. Slept under enough of them to know that it gets awful cold at night." With that statement she turned and headed back towards the building, then gestured towards inside with a flourish. While she was much more interested in speech than she had once been she still allowed her actions to speak for her when the situation allowed.


The building could only retain so much heat due to the hole in the wall that once held a window but next to the fire it was comfortable. She grabbed the largest skin she had on the mattress, a deer, and laid it on the ground near the fireplace. The wolf sat on the item leaving enough room for him to sit beside her if he pleased. She was curious about a lot of things-- How long had he been here? What did he do here? Was he pursuing a co-rank? She avoided asking these things for now and resolved to at least exchange pleasantries first. "How was your day? Do anything new and exciting?" She certainly hadn't.





Optime form. Table by Silverfrost! 400+
<style>
.PIXIE {width:100%;margin:0px auto; float:center;}
.PIXIE-name {font-size:30px; text-align:center; font-family: Georgia;}
.PIXIE-lyrics {text-align:center; font-size:14px;font-family: 'Times'; line-height:13px;}
.PIXIE-post {border-top: 1px dashed;margin:10px;}
.PIXIE p {font-family: 'Georgia', serif; font-size:15px;text-align:left; text-indent:30px;line-height:120%;}
.PIXIE b {font-family: 'Times', serif;font-size:18px;}
.PIXIE table.ooc {width:100%;text-align:center; border-top:1px dashed;}
.PIXIE td.chat {width:75%; font-family: 'Courier', monospace; font-size:15px;}
.PIXIE td.wc {font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size:18px;text-align:right;padding-right:15px;}
</style>
[/html]
[html]

<div class="pixiesig">
<div id="signature-icons">
<a href="#!" class="accompaniment" title="Character is typically accompanied by a white stoat named Pippin!"></a>
<a href="#!" class="optime-preference" title="Preference for Optime form."></a>
<a href="#!" title="I will roleplay mature material." class="will-mature"></a>
<a href="LINK" title="OPEN FOR THREADS!" class="open-for-threads"></a>
<a href="#!" class="reply-medium" title="REPLY SPEED: MEDIUM"></a>

</div>
</div>
<style>
@import url('/images/icons/postsig/signature-icons.css');
</style>


<a href='https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipOLcIUJMvGaKF2-T00ecSyc0kbi2HBuXtAAJ5RoPe-9KrMhT5uFUS9a6heOTOAnRA?key=enNmRENWNFNGWk9adXRHejB2YW5KbTBGYTJGRGh3&source=ctrlq.org'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/dz_RdLD11x3OfzRJzlfdgGwG1UrKBIu4KYj7HlVyiYiNAJ6R4jrLr0x5t7x7DcB8oWy1gtv63-WAfzVMNf2RT_UFpB9LdmfN06OrmV4aUL75U1pP5nCjAxjth7H4jlh09xsy20ixyg=w2400' /></a>
[/html]

Pixel courtesy of Nat
Credit for avatar goes to Trash-king
#4
[html]<style>
.calanbokehlights {width:650px; margin:0px auto; font-family:'merriweather'; text-align:justify;}
.calanbokehlights p {margin:0px 5px -10px 5px; text-indent:25px; font-size:14px; line-height:25px; padding:10px 0px 10px;}
.calanbokehlightsimg {line-height:68px; background-image:url('https://imgur.com/Hs6GL5M.png'); border:1px solid #000; background-repeat:no repeat; height:60px; background-position: top center;}
.calanbokehlightsimgbot {line-height:53px; background-position:bottom center; margin-top:10px;}
.calanbokehlights b {font-size:15.5px;}
.calanbokehlights b.npc {filter:alpha(opacity=75%); opacity:.75;}
.calanbokehlights-bar {line-height:25px; width:100%; margin:0px auto; border-collapse:collapse;}
.calanbokehlights-ooc {font-size:12px; font-family:'verdana'; text-align:left; width:70%; opacity:.7; padding-left:5px; vertical-align:middle;}
.calanbokehlights-wc {font-size:12px; font-family:'verdana'; text-align:right; width:30%; padding-right:5px; letter-spacing:4px; font-weight:bold;}
.calanbokehlights-credit {font-size:10px; opacity:.7; font-family:verdana; text-align:center; padding-top:1px;}
</style>

Shy [+533]



If the she-wolf was surprised to see a new face, she didn’t show it. Instead, her calm smile made it seem like she’d almost been expecting him. "You’re fine," he responded with an easy laugh, hoping that it made him sound more confident than he felt. His right hand reached up to tousle his golden hair. The merchant really hadn’t expected to interact with anyone else today; while the extrovert in him didn’t mind the company, he was still grappling for words, his brain exhausted after a long day of bartering.


Pixie - as he soon learned - didn’t seem to care. She was quick to come close and inspect him openly, her vibrant eyes raking up and down his figure, nose keen to pick up any scent. Whatever she had been looking for, she seemed to find it within him. He found himself enjoying her unabashed interest, and didn’t flinch away in the slightest. Instead, he only cocked his head, taking his time to calmly observe her as she did him. The blond dog found her forwardness refreshingly honest, especially when compared to others he had made acquaintance with here in New Caledonia. They’d really taken in all types, from the blunt to the cryptic, but most still held reservations.


It also didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous, and not in an understated way. This could be interesting, he mused, following her through the doorway.


He took the offered spot next to her, glancing first at the fire, then towards the humble abode that she called home. At first glance it was quite obvious how new she was to these apartments; not only was it barren of any kind of decoration, but it also seemed to be missing the clutter he’d come to expect from a place well-lived in. He thought back to his own home, also new, but filled with way more random bits and bobs than he would ever truly need. Still, the place seemed like it could be cozy, especially once Pixie managed to fix it up. The breeze coming through the massive hole in the wall, for one.


Calan’s attention turned to her as she spoke. "Nothing of note. Just some business in town. I’m a merchant here; the only one, actually. If you need anything, come to me. Fabric, tools, bandages, smokes, booze… I’ll give you an honest price." He meant it. Even if he didn’t have any competition to contend with, Calan enjoyed building these loyalties with his new pack mates. It would only serve him well when the time came for his business to expand and he needed that community support.


His pitch delivered, he allowed his speech to move away from the realm of the rehearsed. "….You know, it’d be a lot warmer in here if you just covered that up," he said, gesturing to the gaping hole. Another cool breeze rattled through, dimming the fire low. He was grateful for the warmth of the furs that the wind couldn’t penetrate. When he shivered a moment later, he couldn’t tell whether it was at the cold itself, or rather the thought of living with such a thing. How could she stand it?


template by veldt, image by @thesollers
[/html]
#5
[html]
Pixie Serene
Come on, skinny love

What happened here?

Pour a little salt we were never here'


She listened as the dog recalled his day. Or, rather, his profession. Being a merchant by trade seemed like an interesting enough way to make a living; she could only imagine the different kinds of canines he had run into. Mostly the good sort, hopefully. She wondered if he had acquired most of his current wares by trade or if he had ventured and found them himself. The majority of the items he ended up listing were of little interest to her but bandages were always useful... And booze. Never could have too much of that. She trusted him enough to do business one day. Him being the only merchant here she had to assume he was a decent one. "Booze are good. Necessary, especially in times like these." She considered the earthquake and some of the solemn faces she had seen walking about New Caledonia, "I know some of them could use a drink."


She rolled her eyes dramatically at his inquiry about the gaping hole in her wall. "Ha! Says the man who was walking in the cold." It was better than being completely unsheltered but he did have a point. "You're right, though," She admitted." I just hadn't really decided how I'm going to block it off." She could use wood, fabric, skins-- But, at any rate, it would require tools to keep the barrier in place. Tools she currently did not have. She traveled light as she hadn't really had a place to store her belongings... Until now, that was. It wasn't much but at least for now she would have a safe place to hide away her baubles and, perhaps one day, tools.



"Thought the cold might not bother you underneath all that fancy fur." Pixie expressed a sly grin. She was only teasing him, of course. She knew a low enough temperature was enough to ruffle even the thickest furs. The wolf addressed the issue by retrieving a skin from the bed. She sat back down then draped it across her own shoulders, holding out the other half and leaving ample room for him to share in on the warmth. She had thought about grabbing two seperate skins but it occurred to her that they were likely to generate more heat sitting closer together.

Late response is late! Sorry, have had a lot going on 300+
<style>
.PIXIE {width:100%;margin:0px auto; float:center;}
.PIXIE-name {font-size:30px; text-align:center; font-family: Georgia;}
.PIXIE-lyrics {text-align:center; font-size:14px;font-family: 'Times'; line-height:13px;}
.PIXIE-post {border-top: 1px dashed;margin:10px;}
.PIXIE p {font-family: 'Georgia', serif; font-size:15px;text-align:left; text-indent:30px;line-height:120%;}
.PIXIE b {font-family: 'Times', serif;font-size:18px;}
.PIXIE table.ooc {width:100%;text-align:center; border-top:1px dashed;}
.PIXIE td.chat {width:75%; font-family: 'Courier', monospace; font-size:15px;}
.PIXIE td.wc {font-family: 'Comic Sans MS'; font-size:18px;text-align:right;padding-right:15px;}
</style>
[/html]
[html]

<div class="pixiesig">
<div id="signature-icons">
<a href="#!" class="accompaniment" title="Character is typically accompanied by a white stoat named Pippin!"></a>
<a href="#!" class="optime-preference" title="Preference for Optime form."></a>
<a href="#!" title="I will roleplay mature material." class="will-mature"></a>
<a href="LINK" title="OPEN FOR THREADS!" class="open-for-threads"></a>
<a href="#!" class="reply-medium" title="REPLY SPEED: MEDIUM"></a>

</div>
</div>
<style>
@import url('/images/icons/postsig/signature-icons.css');
</style>


<a href='https://photos.google.com/share/AF1QipOLcIUJMvGaKF2-T00ecSyc0kbi2HBuXtAAJ5RoPe-9KrMhT5uFUS9a6heOTOAnRA?key=enNmRENWNFNGWk9adXRHejB2YW5KbTBGYTJGRGh3&source=ctrlq.org'><img src='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/dz_RdLD11x3OfzRJzlfdgGwG1UrKBIu4KYj7HlVyiYiNAJ6R4jrLr0x5t7x7DcB8oWy1gtv63-WAfzVMNf2RT_UFpB9LdmfN06OrmV4aUL75U1pP5nCjAxjth7H4jlh09xsy20ixyg=w2400' /></a>
[/html]

Pixel courtesy of Nat
Credit for avatar goes to Trash-king
#6
[html]<style>
.calanbokehlights {width:650px; margin:0px auto; font-family:'merriweather'; text-align:justify;}
.calanbokehlights p {margin:0px 5px -10px 5px; text-indent:25px; font-size:14px; line-height:25px; padding:10px 0px 10px;}
.calanbokehlightsimg {line-height:68px; background-image:url('https://imgur.com/Hs6GL5M.png'); border:1px solid #000; background-repeat:no repeat; height:60px; background-position: top center;}
.calanbokehlightsimgbot {line-height:53px; background-position:bottom center; margin-top:10px;}
.calanbokehlights b {font-size:15.5px;}
.calanbokehlights b.npc {filter:alpha(opacity=75%); opacity:.75;}
.calanbokehlights-bar {line-height:25px; width:100%; margin:0px auto; border-collapse:collapse;}
.calanbokehlights-ooc {font-size:12px; font-family:'verdana'; text-align:left; width:70%; opacity:.7; padding-left:5px; vertical-align:middle;}
.calanbokehlights-wc {font-size:12px; font-family:'verdana'; text-align:right; width:30%; padding-right:5px; letter-spacing:4px; font-weight:bold;}
.calanbokehlights-credit {font-size:10px; opacity:.7; font-family:verdana; text-align:center; padding-top:1px;}
</style>

Shy [+560]



Someone who appreciated the fine art of a bottle of booze? “My kind of customer,” Calan chuckled, before unabashedly winking at the she-wolf. He wished that he still had some left in his pack to offer this interesting new companion of his; a house-warming present, or a token of his appreciation. However, today’s stock had all been sold earlier in the marketplace, and precious few remained in his own home. It always felt like he was running short of the stuff. Good business, perhaps - but a nuisance to acquire, all the same. Hopefully someone would come along and start producing their own alcohol here and save him the trip.


The snowy she-wolf only rolled her eyes at his suggestion to repair the hole in the wall. Calan didn’t bother to mask his surprise at her seemingly nonchalant attitude, but he plowed on regardless. His sea-foam green eyes took in the general outline of the chipped stone, unable to mask their distaste at what they saw. Surely she knew that she wasn’t forced to live like this, right? A dame as striking as her deserved something better than a run-down shack, especially one with a gap in the wall big enough to ride a horse through.


“I’m no expert here, but a large pelt should do the trick. It’ll stop the worst of the wind, at least. Then I’d find someone who could thatch it for you - it won’t be cheap, mind, but it’ll be your best bet.” The flaxen-haired dog stroked his chin in thought, his azure eyes pensive, before he turned his gaze towards her once more. “Of course, there are other houses. More secure ones, too. So why’d you pick this one?” Coming from anyone else’s mouth, his comments may have seemed patronizing: but from Calan, they were as well-meaning and endearingly spoiled as they were intended to be.


That self-indulgent attitude only grew at her gentle gibe. If he had been a parrot, he would have ruffled his feathers. As it was, he puffed his chest out, his back ramrod straight. “I can handle the cold,” he harumphed, but he took her inviting embrace as the welcome sign she no doubt intended it to be. He didn’t waste any time in coming under the blanket with her - ego be damned - and was soon rewarded with the warmth of furs warmed by another’s body heat. He looked at her bright pink hair out of the corner of his eye, relishing in the heat of her body next to his. When he spoke, his tone was tender. “What’d you think all of these long hairs are for, anyways? They’re not just for looking at.” The corner of his lips drew up in a tiny smile.


But he continued his small talk, outwardly curious. “So what brings you here to New Caledonia? Surely you must have travelled from far away.” Absently, the blond wondered if she’d been one of the old Caledonians that he’d heard so much about, yet barely encountered. Athras and Iomair always seemed to be talking of the former glory of their old pack; so where, then, were all the survivors? She didn’t act like either of them - but then again, those two seemed to be a poor litmus test for what passed for normalcy. It just wouldn’t do to be presumptuous.


template by veldt, image by @thesollers
[/html]


Forum Jump: