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Leadership: Nazario del Bosque, Boone Winthrop, Evelyn Escuella
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Wrapped about the northernmost point of Moosehead Lake, Del Cenere's range sweeps from the hills of the Burnt Church Mountains to the floodplains of the Canaan Bog. The claim hosts a number of bones of past civilization, now wild and untamed. At its busy heart, far on its sleeve, thrums the trade post of Charmingtown, where members gather for the latest trade, or the finest drink Luperci can produce.
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[M] Shot like a loaded gun

Mon Dec 23, 2019 5:13 pm

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.
Better think twice
You train of thought will be altered
So if you must falter, be wise

It was cowardly, she knew, but at least this time she let Grandfather know where she was going. Technically the horse wasn't stolen, she'd return it when she came back but the heavy shroud that hung over Casa was too suffocating, too much of a burden for her to shoulder. So she turned away from it, and fled, like a coward.

Jace would forgive her, she was sure. She did leave a note.

Lithe, lean Salvia could fly like the wind, and fly she did; across the waters of the bay, and into the forests beyond. Following the promise of welcome spoken from a certain kind of preacher so pious. The further away she made it from Casa, the better she began to feel, deep inside where grief couldn't quite express itself properly.

Mistfell was too close and so she passed on through, escorted by those who were friends.

Charmingtown they called it, she learned. Which prompted a laugh from her, and their bar, a huff of amusement. Who did they think they were kidding?

The green-eyed man at the bar needed no introduction, Quinn remembered him and it appeared he recalled her too. Ronnie gave her a drink, "On th' house," because Casa and Del Denere were friendly. In an un-Quinn-like fashion, she retreated to a darker corner, away from the few that chatted and quietly nursed her drink, which went down as smooth as crushed glass.

Sipping from her cup, blue scoped out the other faces, but they were all unfamiliar. Most of them didn't smell of this pack so she assumed they were visitors like herself. Her gaze dropped to the amber liquid and she idly tapped her fingers against the table, ears folding back against her head.

Why had she come here.

She looked up again and paused with the drink part way to her mouth. The melancholy dissipated, ears pulled forwards and she favored Boone with a saucy smile and a wink from across the room. Quinn then tossed back the remaining alcohol in her cup and licked her lips. Too bad he was a married man now, some fun was just what the doctor ordered.

Word Count: [000] Form: Optime Date: DD/MM/YY Time: 00 AM/PM

Table by Kitty. Edits by Nuki. Stock image from Deposit Photos.

Re: [M] Shot like a loaded gun

Sun Jan 05, 2020 8:02 pm

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

The night was late and the children had been tucked away into bed. Surely, by now the bar below was beginning to die down. Normally, Boone himself would have been manning the counter -- but fatherhood often demanded certain responsibilities. Uncle Ron, understanding as he was, picked up the slack and kept the machine running like clockwork while attention rested elsewhere.

However, Uncle Ron could only do so much. The hour of closing was drawing nigh and it was time to relieve him of his duty.

Descending the staircase, Boone called to his uncle. "Uncle Ron!"

The barkeep looked up from the glass he was cleaning. His dishtowel hung limp in his hand. "Mhm?" He hummed, seeking his nephew's gaze.

Rounding the bar, Boone laid an affirming hand on his uncle's shoulder. "You can go on home now, I got it from here." There were a few stragglers left in the bar, but now with his wife and children asleep, Boone could return to his usual duties. "Thank you for -- everything," he muttered under his breath in gratitude.

"S'no problem Boone," he answered, offering the towel to Boone. "Don't worry about it.

Boone took the towel in hand and bit his lip. A twinge of guilt rose in his chest.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"


The swinging doors of the bar creaked with Ronnie's exit.

Boone breathed deep and set to work with cleaning and prepping to close shop. His gaze scanned the few patrons who remained, but he froze when he saw her.

That smile.


OOC text here!

Re: [M] Shot like a loaded gun

Tue Jan 14, 2020 2:41 pm

Better think twice
Your train of thought will be altered
So if you must falter, be wise

He stared at her, surprise flitting across his sharp face, but didn't look all together displeased to see her there. Of course, she was never not happy to see him.

The forest danced behind her eyes.

Activity drew apart their gazes for an instant, two of the drinkers breaking into rowdy song as they got up and finished the last of their glasses. One of them thanked Boone profusely, whilst his mate was cackling heavily into a paw at some unseen joke they shared.

As they stumbled noisily to the door, Quinn was surveying the last two, who held themselves closer together, whispering back and forth though from the looks exchanged, they wouldn't be staying for much longer either.

Leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs at the knee beneath the table, she made a show of looking him up and down and licking her dark lips, in the dimmed light, the silver stud flashed enticingly.

High was raised her empty cup, and Quinn shook it back and forth encouragingly,

Hey barkeep, who's a girl gotta fuck to get a refill around here!?

On the outside, it were nothing more than a provoking jibe for a slow bartender who was still staring at her -- beneath the veil?

Well then...

Word Count: [205] Form: Optime Date: DD/MM/YY Ooc: Follows this and this

Table by Kitty. Edits by Nuki. Stock image from Deposit Photos.

Re: [M] Shot like a loaded gun

Fri Feb 14, 2020 1:30 pm

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

Boone did his best to avoid eye contact for long. Perhaps, if he pretended she didn't exist -- if she wasn't there, he could close the bar without any incident. Yet, he couldn't stop staring. He couldn't help but think of Saga and her young boy. His son. The mistake that never should have been. He thought that avoiding temptation within the borders of DCG would be easy enough. Here, he could be a faithful, loving husband and he could leave the mistakes of the past behind.

It was easy for a while, but temptation always had a way of finding him in the end.

She raised her empty glass, keenly aware that Boone knew of her presence. Her little jib struck him and he bit his lip with some hesitation.

Don't, he told himself. Don't ruin everything over her.

He couldn't turn away now, not when she'd called him to her table. Despite everything, he wanted to talk to her. After all, she'd been the most fun he'd ever had. He took the pitcher of ale and made his approach, all the while, cursing his own weakness. "You're a long way from home Quinn," he said as he fillied her cup. He slid into the seat opposite her and asked, "What brings you out to Charmingtown?"

OOC text here!
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