POSTED: Wed Mar 25, 2020 9:05 am

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.

This land had was a lot more diverse in landscape than the Great Lakes where he was from. He had no plans of going back though. The gypsies were not proud of what he had done and they were now convinced that their mother had had relations with a vampire. When he came back with the heads of the packs that caused the disaster they screamed that he was a Dhampir. Jayne couldn't help but role his eyes. His pals that aided in the killing of the wolf pack leaders couldn't convince the weak and helpless gypsies. Granted he was a gypsy too, but he never felt like he belonged. Never felt the connection his sister had. She was the only light and warmth in his heart, so when he was rejected by the gypsy clans it was only natural to seek out the light he missed. Jayne only urged her to go to keep her safe from what he was about to do. He didn't want her to see the devastation he was bound to cause.

The wolves had it coming, they harmed his heart, they hurt the only precious thing in this world.

The problem with finding the angel was knowing where she had gone. Jayne remembered she headed north. It was colder up north and he figured with her coat she sought out land that she was more built for. That and she had no idea where to go..so he had a feeling that whatever direction she went, she just kept going. He regretted leaving her in the state she was in, but he didn't know how to help her. He only knew he would make sure the wolves would no longer be able to hurt her.

His mind wondered how much she had grown. She was so young, so innocent. Was she still innocent? She better be. Anyone that dared to ruin her innocents he would show them how stupid their decision was.

His ears twitched with the sound of a clanking wagon. He sat up from his laying position while a grin lifted the corners of his black lips. "...mm perhaps dinner.." His deep voice muttered. He could use whatever these traveler's had for trade or for himself. His black claws raked over the bone as he gripped the decorated skull he had at it side. He pulled the leather strap over his ears and growled with pleasure. It didn't disguise him well. Jayne was too unique. He was the only gypsy with blood red eyes and his scars and plain coat didn't allow him to be lost in the memory of others. When they see his scars and blood red eyes, they would recognize that he was the Beng that haunted them on the road.
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POSTED: Mon Mar 30, 2020 4:42 pm

It felt like old times again, back before New Caledonia and the myriad responsibilities that came with it. Back when the immediate past was still too terrible and raw to think about and the immediate future was so flighty and elusive that it there was no benefit to looking toward it.

An older Luperci might laugh at the notion. Old times. To an elder, the gap between the past and the present extended beyond that of a youth by leaps and bounds. But, he would argue, the meaning remained the same. Everyone, throughout their lives, passed through time by arcs; by chapters; by milestones.

Time, after all, was like paper and every word spoken or decision made or action taken was like ink. Together, they formed the story of who someone was.

In the previous epoch of Percival's short life, he spent a lot of time meandering the forests and valleys and shorelines of the neutral territories. And, right beside him (or beneath him), was his trusty companion: an old, brindled ox named Pim. And today, with snowmelt bleeding into his toes and the spring songs of small birds in his ears, the two of them trekked, vaguely following the coast toward Amherst.

There was no urgency to their movement. On the contrary, Percy willingly let Pim choose their pace and direction, allowing him to graze the old frostbitten blades and the tender spring growth at will. Winter had been long and hard for everyone, but where other sufferers could hide such evidence from prying eyes the ox wore it on his body shamelessly. Lack of adequate feed and the difficulty of digging through the snow for food had reduced his body condition dramatically, turning him into a bulldozer with sharply visible ribs and hips.

Thankfully, with spring tip-toeing in at long last, it would be no time before his dear friend regained the fat and muscle that winter had stolen away from him. That was the hope, anyway. Percival knew better than anyone how quickly hopes and dreams could be dashed.

He was a child of Krokar, after all, and witness to what had befallen it.

Blinking aside his thoughts, Percy lifted his eyes and saw strangers up ahead. Still far enough away that greeting them would be ineffective, he took note of them and allowed his mind to wonder while Pim continued his slow, lazy graze.

[WC — 400]

New Caledonia
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LuperciDiplomat III, Piscator II we were infinite; there was no time in those days They stole my dirty socks... :(

POSTED: Wed Apr 01, 2020 9:54 pm

Word Count → 796
OOC → words

He crouched behind the brush as he watched the wagon creep closer and closer. His ears twitched as the sound of a big animal was picked up, and not the horses...something else. Jayne glanced over to see an ox in the distance with what looked like a zoned out rider. It would be no threat, the pair looked like a loon and he was sure they'd run at the first sign of trouble. He grinned and looked back toward his target.

The antler's of his mask rose from the brush as he raised his head. His permanent snarl showed through at the bottom edge of the mask flashing his teeth. The pinkish red tongue flicked out wetting his exposed gums and teeth just before he stood ever so slowly out of the brush and onto the path that had been worn from many travelers getting from point A to point B.

Jayne wasn't one to plan his raids. He had no tricks or ideas up his sleeves. He simply stood in the path of the wagon. The driver pulled at the reigns slowing the horses. The wendigo's eyes shown in the lantern's light while the sound of the driver woahed and the horses stopped. His lips curled in a pleased grin before the driver barked, "What you doin'!? Move, let us pass!" Jayne reached out an petted one of the chestnut mares. This dog before him had plenty and was obviously not credulous. Two horses, and it appeared like nice clothing. He was a traveling merchant, that was obvious.

"You deaf, son? Move!"

Obviously, an impatient one as well. His blood red eyes looked from the mare up to the dog. A scruffy hound of sorts. Jayne tipped his head and moved around the mare. "What do you have for me?" He asked flatly while he continued to close the gap between himself and the dog. The scruffy male's large floppy houndlike ears pivoted back encouraging Jayne to move faster with less caution after he noted no weapons near. How foolish, why did the guy not have anything near while traveling?

"I have nothing for the likes of you! Now get!"

The dog snarled with his short fur bristling beneath his heavy clothing.

Jayne snorted, "Now that ain't very kindly of a merchant.." The dull coated coywolf caught the dog's hand just as he went to usher the horses into motion, " ah ah ah...now don't pull that. I might just be a paying customer if you treat me kindly." He laughed but paused as he heard rustling from the wagon. His ears lifted and his nose twitched. Immediately he grabbed the back of the dog's neck and threw him to the ground. "What do you got back there!?" He jumped down from the wagon's driver seat and proceeded to drag the driver to the wagon's door just as it flung open on its own.

He let go of the driver in shock as a pointy eared banshee flew out of the wagon swinging a staff wildly. Jayne almost panicked but saw the female was completely unskilled and he dodged each flick of the staff. But that meant he left the driver on the ground and she was soon over him protectively. He looked her over and took note of her panting heavily. He smiled making his eyes brighten.

His eyes looked into her burning embers and his back straightened while he evaluated the situation. But from this advantage point he could also see inside the wagon. He wetted his gums and teeth again while taking slow calculated steps forward. He stared intensely at the female who was standing with the staff out in front of her. Even her form was weak. She flicked the staff toward him, "Back off! she barked.

He tried to figure out what she was, let alone who she was to this dog. Was she a dog too? Was she his mate, travel companion? She couldn't be his child, they had no resemblance. But she was being protective of him, like they were related. He looked from her to dog and back to her as she flicked the staff. His hand went up and the smack hit hard to his palm. It hurt but he didn't wince, instead he took that pain transferred it to frustration and into his hard grip as he pulled it from her. "Stop playing!" The humor in his eyes went away. She yelped and fell forward tripping over the dog. A hearty laughter came from him and he rudely stepped on the two of them as he went into their wagon.

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Sticks and Stones