m- giv mig et smil, de er nemme at gi'

myrkr

POSTED: Wed Mar 14, 2018 5:14 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.

Word Count → 173 :: *sunglasses emoji*

Mads slunk into the bar, his satchel slung over his shoulder. Within a minute he was at the bar, satchel hoisted up onto the bar and open for inspection. 'Take for another two after the first one. Pour me whatever', he'd instructed the barman, the first one was free after all. He selected two bottles of sugar wine, ("God knows why", Mads thought) and poured the first of the Dane's drinks. 'Skål...' and the hybrid's defined hands swept the drink off of the bar and took it to a table nearby, settling down to enjoy his drink.

Mads took swig out of the glass, he'd couldn't tell what it was, but it was nice. It burned a little like whiskey, but was much tamer. The swarthy male slipped a joint out of his pocket, pre rolled, a habit of his, it saved time. He flicked the fire lighter, sparks igniting the tip, smoke billowed out of it in seconds, and the male took a long drag. Perfect.

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POSTED: Wed Mar 14, 2018 6:46 pm

There was newfound freedom in self-medicating. If Myrkr had known the strange "poison" concoctions would treat the worst of his symptoms, dull his pain and give him a boost, he might not have spent so many years afraid of it and of himself. He might have been productive and happy his whole life rather than nervous, self-hating, obsessed with disaster.

He thought a lot what a drink would have done in the wake of Freetown. If there was melancholy to be found still, it was in thoughts of Sebastien -- but therein lay bittersweet emotion, too, and worst of all a fierce need to be touched by another person.

He roamed the bar like a hunter in the midst of famine, and found a tall, dark man with dreads, scars, coins, and the odor of a barnyard hanging around him heavy as the stink of cannabis. Whoa, Myrkr thought, and yum.

Sober Myrkr would have lingered to watch and, once he did approach, would have dwelled on every stutter or stupid thing that came out of his mouth, or otherwise coped with making self-deprecating jokes. Drunk Myrkr just plain cared less.

You know there's no smoking in here, right? the slender Stormbringer said, waving a hand to fend off the cloud of smoke. He immediately dropped his cool tone for a lopsided grin that made it clear he was joking, raising his silvered brows.


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POSTED: Thu Mar 15, 2018 5:25 pm

Word Count → 203 :: I love Myrkr so much omg <3

His eyes were closed when his reverie had been interrupted, then they opened slowly, displaying an air of unconcern. No smoking? In a bar? Bullshit. His thoughts were confirmed by the older male, his face falling to once side in a mirthful grin, one which was mirrored by the Dane soon after. He sucked his teeth and shook his head, 'Y' had me worried there...' his teasing reply came. Grey eyes surveyed the stranger, it was almost like looking into a mirror, he though. Dark coated, monotone eyes, God, even a stubby little tail. Mads huffed out a cloud of smoke and gestured loosely the man, 'Feel like someone's holding' up a mirror...' It truly was remarkable. And he felt a little self observed as he drank in his doppelgänger. He really was delicious...

Pushing the chair opposite out form under the table with his foot, he invited the man to join him, 'Take a seat if y'd like... Could always do wi' th' company...'. The Dane took a drag of his joint again, 'I've got plenty to go around, if y'd like..?' he offered. Ways to alter the mind were something Mads always kept in fine supply...

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POSTED: Thu Mar 29, 2018 10:53 am

The dark wolfdog joked back and gestured to encompass all their similarities, something that surprised Myrkr. He glanced down at himself: lanky limbs, naturally skinny, nothing impressive compared to the stranger's tall, muscular build. Though his inebriation had soothed his nerves, it did little for the base, depressive thoughts that shot back: yeah, right! He was nowhere near as handsome as this guy.

He cleared his throat and waggled his ears. Mm, I hope we aren't secretly twins or things might get awkward, he said, laughing -- a hint of a nervous, lighter note at the tail end. Okay, so the alcohol wasn't a magical cure for everything, but he wasn't going into a panic or beating himself up too harshly for his idiocy. Maybe this was how normal Luperci dealt with these things. It was an eye-opener.

He sank down into the chair across from the man, dipping his chin onto folded fingers as he rested elbows on the table. He shook his head at the offered joint. I've got a nice buzz going from over here, he said, grinning. He wasn't enthusiastic about the prospect of sucking smoke into his lungs, but the secondhand high would hit him well enough.

So. What's your name? What brings a tall, dark, and handsome guy like you to this seedy little establishment?

He laughed, like he wasn't talking about his place of employment.


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POSTED: Mon Apr 02, 2018 2:35 pm

222

Grinning, he joined his mirror image in laughter, though the Dane's was more sincere and lacked the uncertainty that Myrkr's did. He took another deep drag, huffing out the smoke before he spoke, 'Ah'm pre' confident a' tha' sea 'tween here an' home, luckily f' us'. A steel grey eye flashed the elder male a playful wink, and the Dane took another long swig of his drink. His companion's nervousness hadn't been noticed, the effect of drugs and alcohol had clouded his ability to pick up on finer details. And that was on top of his own boneheadedness. No, the man's delicate inscape was far from the front of Mads' mind seeing as his company was sufficiently entertaining.

The other male declined his offer of a smoke, and Mads shrugged genially in response. He supposed he was right about the second hand smoke wafting over from across the table. It was now his turn to ask questions, and Mads took it as a sign that this stranger was going to stick around for a while, so leaning forward to address the loner he introduced himself, 'Mads. An' ah'm here f' a good time...' He didn't bother pointing out that fact that his new friend seemed to smell a lot like this 'seedy little establishment'.

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POSTED: Thu Apr 12, 2018 6:01 pm

The stranger winked and quaffed, and Myrkr leaned forward a little more. “Where are you from?” he asked – less interested in the answer itself than the opportunity for the other to speak. Myr enjoyed that the most, allowing acquaintances and friends to talk about themselves. In between his mercurial flights of depression and nervousness, it was what he was best at. He might not light a room, but he lit up others so they would have the chance to really shine.

And he wanted to hear that exotic voice a little longer.

“Well, this is the place,” the skinny wolf said, drumming his fingers on his cheek. “I’m Myrkr, by the way. If you’re having trouble finding a good time I’d be happy to help.” The words came shamelessly and fluidly out of his mouth, innocent enough in vocabulary and the genial look in his moon-colored eyes – but the way his mouth formed the statement made its intention more than obvious.

Gods – he enjoyed flirting, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done so with the intention of gaining something from it. He was probably terribly out of practice.

Drunk Myrkr didn’t care.

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POSTED: Mon Apr 16, 2018 12:19 pm

Word Count → 000 :: *sunglasses emoji*

Like many from his homeland, he was proud of his heritage, and any opportunity to talk about home was seized with fervent zeal. 'Ah'm from Danmark!' he proclaimed with a wide grin, using his native tongue's word for the land as the English word was out of his ken. 'Tiny, tiny lil' place 'cross th' sea, lots'a islands all together up north! Beautiful place, but it's very flat'. Mads lent forward too, his collection of pendants clunking against the wooden table as he did. His dreads too crept further and further towards his face before they fell and swung into his eye line, with a huff of a laugh, he pushed them back again.

The man's name caused the Dane's eyebrow to raise, 'Myrkr? Norske?' The word was familiar in his own tongue to the tongues of the old inhabitants of his home land, a tongue that people still used sparingly, for him to spot the connection. 'Where would y've got a name like that from, hm?' He sat up a little straighter now, but still he lingered close to Myrkr, his interest peaked doubly now.

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POSTED: Wed May 09, 2018 5:23 pm

Imagining islands in a cold northern sea, Myrkr smiled. His ears twitched at the knock of the other’s pendants against the wood, his eyes drawn to the flashes of leather and gold. “Flat, huh? Bet this place feels like a constant climb.” There were marshes and lowlands in Nova Scotia, to be sure, but the Halcyon mountain range stretched through the region like a spine. Long ago glaciers had shaped the land in unique ways, leaving behind rolling hills and juts of erratic rock. Myr enjoyed it, even if the cliffs made him unreasonably nervous.

He blinked as Mads seemed to recognize his name – or its origin – and he subconsciously lifted his hand to toy with his Frithr pendant, Thor’s hammer a familiar, solid thing between his fingers. “My family, the Stormbringers, we follow the Norse gods. None of us really speak the language, but some of us have names… like my sisters Thyri and Dreyma, our old godja Miskunn.”

His smile grew soft, nostalgic. “We had a pack, Vinátta, where we practiced those old ways… It isn’t around anymore.”

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POSTED: Sun May 20, 2018 9:43 am

'Yeah, s'not too bad though' the Dane hummed, 'Y' ge' use t' it, a'course'. While the terrain was a constant challenge, it was undoubtedly stunning, a real treat to be surrounded by towering cliffs and imposing mountains, rolling hills that fell sharply into gravelly beaches. Besides, his horse bore more of the terrain than he did, for Mads often took to riding the beast of burden instead of tackling the terrain himself. Rødhest was bred for navigating difficult terrain, small and hardy, thickly coated to protect from the elements. The transfer from a flat landscape to a tumultuous one had been a simple enough one for the stallion.

Ghostly eyes were drawn to the pendant that hung around Myrkr's throat, a familiar sigil to the Dane. Many back home still worshiped the old gods as fervently some worshiped the news ones. Though admittedly it was a surprise to see followers this far across the sea. 'Ah'm sorry t' hear it ain' no more' he apologised softly, 'Ah would've liked t' see it'.
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POSTED: Thu May 31, 2018 2:36 am

Mads murmured condolences, and Myrkr smiled gratefully.

It got kind of quiet after that. Caught up in thoughts of home, the Stormbringer thumbed his pendant and heaved a soft sigh. Chatter and smoke filled the bar, and his thoughts floated along with the noise, until he looked back at Mads and realized that he hadn't said anything to continue their conversation. Oh.

The flicker of his moon-colored eyes changed somewhat, as his drunken mind sluggishly drifted back over their previous conversation. At some point it had taken a turn from flirtation to polite small talk, and he needed to set it back on track. Mads was handsome and muscular and smelled wonderful and earthy and real, and Myr wanted it – wanted real. His tongue rolled around in his mouth, and he smiled suddenly.

There's a lounge behind the curtain over there, Myrkr said pleasantly. Do you wanna go make out for a while or something?


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