[P] It was a swift, not a swallow (I never listen)
#1
[html]


Do not cry out or hit the alarm
You know we're friends 'till we die

He wanted to be elated, but instead, Boone Winthrop felt rubbed raw.

The emotional exhaustion of the previous day had worn on the Comandante. Frayed at the ends, eyes bloodshot and tired, he'd turned to an old friend in the bottle to silence the noise in his head. To be honest, he didn't know how to feel, not yet. He didn't know what to feel about anything regarding this. It was all so sudden, this unexpected return -- and with a new family in tow. Emotions, both ugly and beautiful, raged in the pit of Boone's stomach. Joy. Fear. Envy. Anger. It was all a headache, he thought, or perhaps it was the hangover.

Love, particularly, familial love -- could be strained, and in this, it certainly was. In absence, cracks grew. And yet, there was this part of Boone, this naive little holdout from childhood, that wanted nothing more than to have his father back in his life, no matter the circumstance. How could he dare turn his own blood away? To deny himself the opportunity for reconciliation that he had desired for so long.

But, beyond all this, perhaps what hurt the most was that Dahlia lied.

It was... it was confusing.

The stark morning light was sobering. He shielded his eyes with his hand, nursing the pain in his head as he climbed the steps of Casa Inadaptada. There was still so much to talk about with Rio, so much that needed to be said in private. Salsolan refugees were still Salsolans, and needed to be watched.

"Rio?" Boone called, pushing the front door open and stepping inside.

OOC text here!

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
[/html]
  Reply
#2
  • [267]
[Image: xxOnMp.png]
She dreamed about Rhodes again.

Like any other dream, it was peaceful— the two of them out walking in the summer night, that well-gnawed old pig knuckle clamped in the puppy’s jaws, his gait bouncing and leaping to catch up with her through the waves of grass. Insects drifted around them, but unlike in real life, they were lightning bugs, not biting flies. They winked in and out of existence.

Like every other time, it did not turn nightmare. It just was. And Merari woke up with tears on her cheeks anyway.

It took her a few minutes, wiping her eyes angrily and looking around the room, to recall just where she was. When she remembered she sighed, dropping her wrist across her face, savoring a few more minutes of ignorance.

Merari wasn’t stupid. She knew this wasn’t going to be simple. Nazario’s aborted confession the day before made her nervous, too, but— one step at a time.

She got dressed, fumbling with her shirt until she realized she’d lost a button, but didn’t bother fixing her pigtail braids despite the few strands come unraveled. Disheveled and unbothered by it like always, she exited her temporary room and made way to the door, rolling up her sleeves. She’d told Rio she would take a look at his porch, and work was a good, simple way to start the morning.

Instead a face near as familiar as her own stepped into the cabin, and she stopped in her tracks. Then Merari grinned, hands on hips and brows raised.

“Hey, shithead.”

face down in the desert now there's a cage locked around my heart
  Reply
#3
[html]


Do not cry out or hit the alarm
You know we're friends 'till we die

Hey, shithead.

He was frozen in place, in time. Boone blinked twice, nearly unable to register what he saw with his own eyes. So taken aback with yet another unexpected blast from the past, his jaw hung open as if he'd been slapped across the face by some unknown force. There she was standing in the foyer ready to great him. His sister, in the flesh. Just as he remembered.

Well, she was taller. Always the beanpole, Rari dwarfed him even more now.

At first, Boone was at a loss for words. His mouth opened, but only a weak, resigned sound slipped out. He wasn't angry anymore. The anger had left him long ago, but the sorrow -- that remained. The sting of abandonment would never really leave.

"Rari -- I didn't... I didn't..." he started. It was an uncertain stammer. The words he wanted to say were just out of reach. He'd never expected to see her again. This week, he supposed, was full of surprises.

He wasted no time and threw his arms around her in a breif, but tight hug. "God, it's good to see you 'Rari," he muttered before nervously backing away. He cast his gaze down, unable to look her in the eye as guilt rose in his stomach. "The things I said when you left -- I... I didn't mean them." He'd been heated. Young. Stupid.

He'd let his hurt show.

OOC text here!

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
[/html]
  Reply
#4
  • [310]
[Image: xxOnMp.png]
Boone blinked and gawked and stammered, and the sight of her bold brother so shocked might have made her guffaw in another circumstance. She did smirk, tilting her chin up a little higher, if only to disguise her racing heart and butterfly-afflicted stomach. Would he still be angry with her?

Her littermate came to embrace her, and for that brief moment Merari squeezed him back, her nose pressed to his shoulder so she could reassure herself with his beloved, familiar scent. When he backed off, her smile was warm and unguarded, until he stared down at the nasty carpet and addressed the last time they’d seen one another.

“Tch.” Merari crossed her arms and shrugged, her smile fangy. “If I took it personal I wouldn’t’ve shown back up.” It had angered (and hurt) her in the moment and the lonely days afterward, but she’d quickly forgiven him. It made sense that one last “betrayal” in a series of abandonments would set him off. People said stupid things in emotional outbursts, which was another reason why Rari preferred to be patient and logical.

Besides, they were siblings. They were supposed to fight like wildcats then make up in the same week. They had more important battles, anyway.

She cut to the chase. “Y’know, all this time, I’ve apprenticed under a fella name of Braithwaite,” she said, her pale blue eyes studying his face for recognition. “My neighbors started talkin’ about some li’l coyote gang in the north that’d bit off more ‘n they could chew with the Del Mars, and I was like…” She snapped her fingers. “Sounds like somethin’ my fool brother would get himself into! So ‘course I had to come make sure my family was okay.” She set hands on her hips and raised her brows. “Am I right?”

face down in the desert now there's a cage locked around my heart
  Reply
#5
[html]


Do not cry out or hit the alarm
You know we're friends 'till we die

To hear it from her own mouth, Boone was relieved. Forgiveness, like most difficult lessons learned, did not often come easy. He could not deny many a sleepless night where he caught himself second guessing his own actions -- the way he'd left things so raw. She left because of himself, Boone remembered. His irresponsibility. His impetuous nature. Leadership had changed him, but was it enough not to drive her away again?

For that grave question, he had no answer.

He listened intently as she filled in the blanks. Having been at Palisade this entire time, Boone could not deny the disappointment of missing her when he'd gone last summer. Or perhaps, she hadn't wanted to be seen. Not yet. Not until her brother's mess got too big and she had to rescue him out of obligation. The thought hurt him, but he swallowed it down.

"I've got everything under control 'Rari," he assured, lying to both her and himself. He shuffled nervously in place. "Come summer's harvest we'll be able to support ourselves again." Their dependency on the Del Mar family was akin to a slow bleeding wound. With their own crop, Boone reasoned that they would no longer need to suckle at the Del Mar tit.

"I -- I have a plan... and if Rio would just listen to me." His voice broke into fragments of frustration.

OOC text here!

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
[/html]
  Reply
#6
[Image: xxOnMp.png]
Boone claimed to have everything under control. Merari did him the honor of not laughing, but her brows did jut up. She waited him out, though, as he tried to explain himself and argue that what they reaped would be enough. Only at his final frustrated remark did she snort.

“Sounds t’ me like y’ain’t givin’ him the chance t’ listen before you go off ’n’ do whatever you think’s best,” the coywolf replied, narrowing her eyes. Nazario had told her that Boone was trying to work around him, and she was inclined to believe her adoptive sibling. “Did he even agree to meetin’ with the Del Mars in the first place?”

She gestured idly, though her voice remained its rough but even tone, not given to being passionate or even overly stern. It was a matter-of-fact, casually lecturing manner of speaking that had failed to make her popular, but Rari possessed the same ego that Boone did — more of a subtle know-it-all than grandiose and arrogant.

“What’s this about you stealin’ from them, anyway? Carlo Del Mar is a fuckin' piece of work, y’know that? There ain’t gonna be a summer if you piss him off.”

face down in the desert now there's a cage locked around my heart
  Reply
#7
[html]


Do not cry out or hit the alarm
You know we're friends 'till we die

"-- And there ain't gonna be a summer if things keep going the way they are," Boone interjected. It was a hard decision to make, but the hard decisions were what made a leader strong. The Del Cenere Gang looked to the Camino for guidance, for support. It was their burden to take action. The sit and wait approach Nazario purported would end in disaster, this Boone knew. For once, it wasn't selfish. This wasn't about him.

As tensions festered, he understood Inferni's isolation more and more. A pack could only flourish when self sufficient. Yet, had Inferni truly flourished? For his entire life, Boone had only seen struggle and strife. Always the beggar king. Was it a crime to want better?

No.

"They're bleedin' us 'Rari -- we hardly have enough grain to feed our animals, let alone our people." He sucked in breath. "There are children to feed. I have children to feed." The old terms had been fair -- the ones he'd negotiated with Augustine. This new arrangement, however, Boone had no say in. Even still, the blame rested on his own shoulders.

"Lord knows, I got us into this mess. You don't think I know that?" His guilt was evident in his voice. His mistakes were numerous, but he was sure of one thing. "I can get us out."

He had to.

OOC text here!

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
[/html]
  Reply
#8
  • [269]
[Image: xxOnMp.png]
Merari drew her mouth in a tight line when her brother interjected, but once again she heard him out — that was all she could do. She owed her siblings that much, even when she had selfishly left the Cartel’s off-course ship. Listen to their sides, think logically; she thought she had it together, too.

He mentioned children, and her jaw went slack. Excitement and discomfort danced in her stomach, but she quelled the emotions and steeled her expression, swallowing. Dark ears pricked at the concession in his tone, then swept back gently; it wasn’t often Boone admitted to his mistakes. That he wasn’t eager to twist it around so it was someone else’s fault boded well.

She reached over to grasp him firmly by the shoulder, an affectionate jostle. “Listen, if y’all are gonna fight for your freedom, I’ll be there with you. We’re family and nothin’ changes that, even if we’re apart.” The first sign of trouble had her running back home, abandoning the security she’d sought and earned in Palisade. The trio were all they had left of each other, and she couldn’t risk losing her brothers.

“But you gotta fucking think first and tell people before you do shit, Boone,” she said, the hand that grabbed his shoulder now shoving him back. “Rio can’t back up your plans if you’re cuttin’ him out. And if you’re gonna pick a fight, you damn well better hope you can keep your clan, your kids safe. Otherwise you’re just rushing them to their graves.”

face down in the desert now there's a cage locked around my heart
  Reply
#9
[html]


Do not cry out or hit the alarm
You know we're friends 'till we die

Boone was a ghost, phasing in and out. He was a fading, flickering flame, dancing between shame and righteous anger. This was his burden, his cross, and he knew he had to bear it alone. Nazario just wouldn't understand. Not that he ever truly could. Boone knew the way his brother looked at him with that one cold eye. He didn't have to say it, but Boone knew exactly what the savage king was thinking, that his idiot brother had brought this upon himself.

What hurt the worst was that Boone knew that Nazario was right -- and so was Merari.

Her hand on his shoulder, while a brief moment of solidarity, felt like a crushing weight. "I--" his voice wavered. He wanted to be strong, if not only to hold on to some thin shred of dignity, but he'd lost that long ago. Just as he'd lost her too. Boone Winthrop was a man defined by his many mistakes.

He faltered before casting his gaze away to the peeling wallpaper of Casa Inadaptada."I just want to do the right thing one god damn time 'Rari." He stifled a sob. The sting of tears welled in the Comandante's eyes. Nerves from previous day still had yet time to heal.


OOC text here!

<style>.ryanPrize {
width:95%;
max-width:650px;
margin:0 auto;
font-size:16px;
font-family: 'Palatino Linotype', palatino, georgia, serif;
background-image:url('https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/512139135574736897/600435319879499806/booneoptimelineup.png');
background-position:top right;
background-repeat:no-repeat;
background-size:200px;
}
.ryanPrize .lyric {
font-family:'Coming Soon', serif;
text-align:center;
font-size:20px;
opacity:.75px;
text-shadow:#000 0px 1px 0px;
margin-left:40px;
}
.ryanPrize .space { height:520px; width:200px; float:right;}
.ryanPrize .ooc {
font-family:verdana, geneva, sans-serif;
font-size:13px;
margin:5px auto;
opacity:0.6;
padding:10px 2px;
border-top:1px dotted;
}
.ryanPrize .ooc:before {
content:'OOC →';
font-weight:bold;
padding:5px;
}
.ryanPrize p {
line-height:25px;
margin:0px;
text-indent:40px;
padding:5px 10px;
}
// put if you want to distinquish an NPC's speech
.ryanPrize b.npc { opacity:0.75; }
// for word of the day or some shit
.ryanPrize u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; font-style:italic; font-variantConfusedmall-caps; }
</style>
[/html]
  Reply


Forum Jump: