[P] [M] 'Cause I'm glad that you're the one who got away
Dark
#1

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.

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[+000]
Ooc: Dated June 5/6th
[Image: zuUHm3s.png]Somewhere out in front of them the water would be sparkling its merry blue tune. He could almost imagine it if he bothered to close his eyes, which he did. The solid weight of Obstinado between his legs and the gentle swaying of the mule as he ambled forwards was at peace with the clean scent in his flaring nares.

The whoosh of wind whispering over a wing was his only warning before said wing slapped him in the back of the noggin', slamming his head forwards. A scratch of claws yanked at his hair before the thrice-damned bird pulled itself up, settling onto his niece's shoulder gracefully. Of course, Pontifex being her too gracious self, shared her piece of jerky with the cretin.

"Damn thang," He muttered in an acerbic tone, wincing as the vulture screeched in unholy devotion to the heavy clouds above their heads. Pawing at the newly aching spot on his head he set the ol' evil eye at it, if looks could kill, the vulture would have keeled over dead.

Still, if being slapped in the head by vulture wing was the most of his worries, he'd take it over where he'd been in the past.

Leaving had never been any sort of relief for John before; He'd walked away from Homestead and Ginger with rocks weighing him down; followed after Andy again and again clutching only heartache in his chest; battered his godforsaken head against the same brick wall over and over to the tune of his own concussion. Nothing had felt so freeing as tromping across those southern borders and setting Del Cenere and its problems and pain at his back.

He'd felt the scorch of so many concepts he'd once held near and dear as they up and burned in flames. Family didn't echo in blood apparently. Go fucking figure. His voice broke through the conversating that might be happening,

"Looks like as good'a place t'stop as any." Beside a small stream, a nice open spot to pitch the tents, good fodder for the horses. Goddamn they had a lot of horses between them all. The cart could be easily watched. Though he suspected that watching it wouldn't be much of a worry for them to have, the cougar's blue eyes glinted threateningly as he looked at her. Shuddering slightly, John turned his gaze to the others, awaiting a group verdict.

Night was approaching them with speed so if they wanted to have camp assembled before the dark reached them then they'd best be starting now.

〈 J⌑O⌑H⌑N⌑A⌑T⌑H⌑A⌑N 〉
avatar by Sanba | player wiki | character wiki | sig by despi
#2
[[Eusebia is Laird's cNpc. Seaborne is Wayne's yNpc, Zorthia is Anya's cnpc]]

[Image: heashot.png]A throaty laugh, edged with a winded rasp, shook Wayne's chest as he watched Cud pester John, only to bless Pontifex and her treat bearing hand, “Should'a been kinder to'em if ya'wanted t'be friends. He ain't forgot th'first time ya'met,” The coydog prodded his brother in arms with an elbow before he brought Coach to a little bit of speed to avoid any return pestering.

His slender-nosed, blue-eye son couldn't help but laugh at the whole encounter, throwing his head back with plenty of myrth as he walked along with the caravan of absconded, ex-Ashen, vagabonds. He didn't seem weighed down by the notion of leaving his home, but he'd also taken after his father in the concept of independent living. He did, however, clap his maw shut as he realized the two souls that worked their horses behind him.

“Hmm,” Bee quietly hummed, disproving of how like Wayne her son had become. As she sat side saddle upon Scottish, she never seemed to consider was the notion that she left her son with Wayne any time she had the chance to. It didn't dawn on her that bonding wasn't over primping her son and echoing unachievable rules. Of course, what more could she know of raising, when her late mother had only done so much. Instead, her sights turned to her sister, “Pontifex,” She spoke quietly, so that the men to the fore might not interject with their crass words or actions, “Votre esprit est-il occupé?” Where she seemed to lack with her son and his crude father, she excelled with Pontifex. A tug on the back of her hood pulled it away from her features, the feiry red against the black mask and pallid muzzle turned to what remained of their family.

Wayne didn't pit too much attention on what carried on behind the men, having a particular distaste for a soul female in their party. Why she couldn't be more like Z or Pontifex, he wasn't sure. He assumed her mother had shared that stick up her ass as some sort of family heirloom. The dark-faced coydog wouldn't utter a word, however. He was going to be patient, for the time being. Pontifex didn't need any of his shit after what she'd gone through.

Attention was stolen by the mention of bedding down. Wayne's blue eye reached around the area that they worked their way to. Above, the sky rolled with clouds darkened not by the encroaching night, but the rain that was sure to follow.  With a cant of his head, he deemed it enough, “Look's like rain again,” He added as he pulled Cochise's reigns and worked his way down from the beast.

It dawned on him late as to where exactly they were. His maw pulled into a tight line as he lead the horse to the stream, his hand scritching the blue paint's muscled neck, “We'll play hell startin' a fire tonight. Figure we'll grab some wood'n see if it'll even burn,” He directed, knowing that the lot he was with didn't necessarily have to follow his word, but taking charge of what he could came as an instinct. It looked like it'll be raw food and a wet nap if they couldn't get something going.


[+578]
[Image: Wz7hnJ2.png]
#3
[+000]
Ooc: Dated June 5/6th
[Image: zuUHm3s.png]Hissing in response to the heckling and the jab that came cruelly at his ribs, John steered his mount away from Cochise's side towards Z on his right, who was grinning at his misfortune too.

He needn't have bothered, for Wayne took himself out of range, anticipating a revenge that would come when the man wasn't looking for it. John's brows furrowing themselves down over green eyes even as yellowing teeth came to grin at Sea's laughter as it echoed and then cut off abruptly.

The hoity-toity tones of his least favorite niece gave him extra cause to get his back up, the muscles of his hackles rippling for her presence. Some folk were for forgiving but not John, not after the damage she'd done to try and save her own reputation against her scary-ass mother. Wayne had committed the cardinal sin and stuck himself into crazy, but that didn't have no purchase on liars who botched the truth for their own gain. Seaborne had been worth dealing with Miss Bitch, but John would never forget her lies, no matter how much time passed; but, much like Wayne, John had nothing to say to outwardly disparage Pontifex's only remaining family that desired her company.

Pontifex rode Oriana who pulled her mother's small cart in tandem with Nani, silent as she often was these days. John would admit to worrying a great deal about her and her silence where once had been endless chatter and enjoyment of life. He strained to listen for her quiet voice, given so infrequently nowadays,

"Juste... notre Mère me manque." Pontifex's pitched inhalation and strangled voice, touched heavily with grief, was not possible to miss. John hunched his shoulders forwards, knowing there was nothing he could do to comfort her on her loss. Her mother had been a woman to fear but never to love. Kids didn't have the luxury of choosing not to love where they had come from however. Andrew had mated a viper, and now his daughter was paying the price he had been too cowardly to cough up.

What conversation, carried on in french between the two differing sisters, fell away as he drew up besides Wayne, his words offering a break in the monotony of their travel.

"Mmmhm." He agreed with a mumble of his lips. Rain had plagued their journey in the mornings and evenings and John was over the feeling of being wet when he woke or went to sleep.

Their convoy of the lost and self-made homeless paused in its motion, bodies shuffling down from their mounts. John was not slow behind them, rubbing at the soreness in his thighs built there by Obstinado's flanks. It'd been quite a while since he'd spent multiple days, hour by hour, in the saddle. John's head turned to Wayne as he led Cochise to the water. Obsti followed without John's lead, ever willing to follow the paint to pastures anew.

"Might be we can find sumthin' dry-ish, in th'thicker parts per'haps." His jaw worked, muscle bunching and releasing below his skin, with no apparently outward reason. At least, not to the women and beasts that accompanied them. John was not exactly willing to relive the experiences he'd been through in any measure of the word.

"I will ztay 'ere, clear a zpace, find what I can. Sunshine eyes were half-closed, as if the action of speaking to the greater bunch was a hard job to complete. Her voice quiet and almost lost below the bubbling of the stream. John couldn't place the expression upon her face, something torn between concerned, exhausted and something beyond his comprehension, and she was looking at Wayne with a twist to her mouth that was hard and fierce. Damned if he could puzzle out what it was though.

"You ladies gon' be okay if'n we go look?" Z shot him the bird, as he knew she would, but it wasn't her he was jonesing his concern for. He knew Zsorthia could protect herself, and truth be told he only cared for Eusebia for Pontifex's sake. Pontifex looked so fragile, in her dusty coat and her sad eyes that burned away at his heart something awful and hurting. He couldn't... he really really truly didn't deserve to feel what he did about her, not when he'd laid fists on her in his own misery. If nothing else, Johmn knew he'd go to hell for that alone.

Grit teeth below his lips took him a moment to accept her nod and whatever reaction Eusebia had conjured, and turned to Wayne who had a still tenseness to him. John echoed the stiffness in his joints that wasn't caused by the hours of travel. The last time he'd been hereabouts he'd done his best to ignore a man who'd be better off fertilizing the vegetation than free to breathe and live. John's teeth ached with how hard he clenched his jaw, the muscles twitching away below his fur.

〈 J⌑O⌑H⌑N⌑A⌑T⌑H⌑A⌑N 〉
avatar by Sanba | player wiki | character wiki | sig by despi


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