[M] Headed Into Town

AW Charmington Pack Project

POSTED: Mon Jul 01, 2019 12:40 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.



Can't go back, never go back - forward into the rust and dust

It had been nearly a month now since these coyotes had banded together and claimed the pristine land surrounding Moosehead Lake and still Twelve couldn’t believe what she had gotten herself into. When she had decided to travel North, if anything all she was hoping to find was the rumored wild remnants of her extended family; she never would have dreamed that she find herself helping to found a damn pack! But here she was, and here she would stay.. for now.

Part of the territory claim included several human ruins; cities and towns abandoned at The Fall and left to rot and wither away, natures hands like claws tearing and destroying and devouring. It was quite a waste in her opinion.

She had always been fascinated with humans; they had built themselves monuments that were nearly unfathomable to Luperci, but yet, they had all but disappeared, their God had abandoned them. Perhaps their Bible had foretold this; even she had been delighted and frightened by the tales from the Book of Revelation as a child. Fire and brimstone and the fall of man… perhaps this was what was left.

She found herself in what was now called Charmington; it certainly was charming, for a ghost town. One Eye had set the Ashen to reclaim this place, transform it into usefulness, and she had every intention to do that. Twelve was on the hunt for something very specific, and soon she found herself in the skeleton of the stockyard and livery.

Most of the structures were still standing, but time had peeled paint, rusted metal, rotted wood. However, with plenty of time and elbow grease, this place could be shining. Her slate eyes widened as she found a round pen, Fucking, finally! she said, rushing forward to peer at. Twelve had been terribly wanting for a round pen; working with the horses out in the fields was nearly impossible, especially with the green ones. A round pen was just what the doctor ordered.

Then, looking to the side, she saw the large brick building that was once a stable. All the windows had been broken, and the doors gone, but upon entering she found it all mostly intact if not in need of a good clean. Bones littered the ground here and there, the poor souls of livestock that had most likely died of starvation here many, many years ago. There was still some tack as well, but not much; this place had been scavenged long ago.

Exiting the building, she walked back to the round pen and then beyond; here was where the beginning of the stocks were, rows and rows of broken pens. She did not wander far in, and with a huff put her hands on her bony hips. Maybe she should look more carefully at the stables; surely there would be some work rooms or store rooms in there that would tick off all the boxes.

Turning back to head towards the stables, she took a moment to peek at Orville and Wynona where she had tied them off. Twelve had taken to carting the mare around, in her attempt to try and get her used to coyotes... she had figured that it was them that spooked her so much, having always been around wolves.

Twelve is on the search for a farrier shop | [wc — +5] template by hilli, image from Bryan Mullennix
Last edited by Twelve on Tue Jul 09, 2019 11:11 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Luperci Gaucho Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Fri Jul 05, 2019 6:22 pm

What a difference a few weeks could bring. What a difference a few months could bring.

With her hands resting atop her swollen belly and her hood pulled over head, protecting her sensitive burns from the glare of the sun, the Vicar milled across the dusty little village that they had chosen to rebuild. It would do – she knew that it would do, because it had to do – but there was a great deal of work ahead of them. And then, once all of that work had been done and they had brushed their palms of its dirt, there would be even more work left for them to tackle.

Their efforts would not be done quickly, nor would the work itself be easy, but Evelyn had never been one to shy away from what needed to be done. And this – this – was something that needed to be done. Once the project had been completed and their celebrations had been had, this little village was certain to prove something that they would need. For the success of their pack and for the future of their people, it would prove indispensable.

Evelyn ran a palm absently around the circumference of her belly, unaware of the direction that her subconscious mind had taken her, and moved slowly through the village. "Fucking, finally!" The fire-kissed coyote paused, her tattered ears tall and her eyes narrowed. She scented the air, but there was little to smell besides rotting wood, dusty earth, and horse hide. Without relaxing, she moved closer until the round pen and the brick stables came into view.

Two equines stood side-by-side – the bay mare that they had taken from the enemy and a dark mule that she had become accustomed to seeing – but the Vicar had only a moment to consider them before the roughened appearance of her fellow packmate erupted from the brick building. She watched the woman as she considered the round pen, and then the stocks beyond it, before turning around again with her hands on her bony hips to peer at the stables.

She was silent a while before dipping her nose in the woman's direction. "Seems you've hit somethin' of a jackpot here." Calhoun would have appreciated that, she thought bitterly. "Are they sound?" she asked of the building and the surrounding structures.

[WC — 391]


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Little Bandit They stole my dirty socks... :( Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Tue Jul 09, 2019 11:35 am

Can't go back, never go back - forward into the rust and dust

Twelve moved gently to the mare's side, who only just shied away. Twelve had managed to begin touching her on the neck and side, though the face and ears and hindquarters were still off-limits. Slow and steady progress was all she could hope for with this one; raised by wolves, conditioned by wolves to be wary of all other canines, it would take time.

The remnant of an ear turned when Evelyn spoke; she had barely even noticed the Burnt Woman’s approach through her musing. Twelve turned and looked at her pointedly, sharply, wide eyed; she was very pregnant.

The gray woman scowled and crossed her arms, Yeah. She said in response, and then turned to spit, They’re sound alright. Humans knew what they were doing; all brick and mortar and steel beams. She patted the side of the building, almost like it was a living thing.

Then, turning to look at the pens again, Those are gonna need more work; weather and time has destroyed them. Some of the wood is still good but… She shrugged.

Turning her gaze upon the woman again, What are you doing out here? She asked incredulously, Shouldn’t you be making a hole in the ground somewhere? Is that what you lot do up here in the wilds? She wouldn’t be surprised; no doulas or midwives out in the forests, just squat and pop them out onto the dirt.

Twelve began to walk around the edge of the building to see if there were any other entrances, Mighty risky of you, bringing pups into the world here and now, don’t you think? She paused and looked at Evelyn again, Too late now I suppose… I just hope for your sake they don’t come out with their parent’s faces.

OOC | [wc — +2] template by hilli, image from Bryan Mullennix
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Luperci Gaucho Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Fri Jul 19, 2019 7:20 pm

She allowed a short, toneless hum to slip between her lips. "Hn." Humans. What they had and had not known, in their limited time before the rise of Luperci, Evelyn did not care. But what Twelve knew of the integrity of the structures was important. And, she decided with a slight narrowing of her eyelids, curious.

The Vicar held her gaze on the scarred woman's face, her expression neutral. What did she know of humans? What did she know of structures – of brick and mortar and steel beams? More than she did of horses and mules? With a flick of ember and frost, she glanced at the pens. More, the fire-kissed coyote decided with a nearly imperceptible nod, than she did and ever cared to know.

Shifting her tongue within her mouth, Evelyn was preparing to respond to the woman's assessment of the pens before the conversation veered into more personal territory.

In a single fluid motion, she looked at Twelve again without emotion and listened, with growing animosity despite the cold look on her ruined face, as the woman walked along the edge of the building and carried on. Evelyn remained silent, listening and watching and waiting. She had learned a long time ago what battles were worth fighting.

"You done now?" she asked flatly, her face stony. Her lips were thin and straight across her maw. "Because if you value your liquor as much as I reckon you do, I would be done if I was you." She might not be the only distiller in this dusty town, but she sure as hell would make the lives of anyone dealing to the woman a living hell if it meant making Twelve miserable. "What I decide t' do with my body ain't none of your damn business, so how's about you talk about somethin' we both care about?"

She gestured to the pen with her nose. "That," she began. "What do we got to do to make it sound?"

[WC — 335]


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Little Bandit They stole my dirty socks... :( Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Sat Jul 20, 2019 11:25 am

Can't go back, never go back - forward into the rust and dust

Evelyn always seemed to be cold, her face rarely breaking from rotting dead-pan, and so, she was pretty hard to read. But when Twelve basically insulted her unborn children, the fiery wrath of God could be seen brimming just below that unemotional surface; Twelve could see the spark of ire in the woman’s terracotta eyes.

It was no question why so many bowed to the Burned Woman’s presence, there was a power in her thinly veiled by a damaged exterior, a power that could rip asunder the confidence of a lesser Luperci. But Twelve only grinned a sadistic sort of grin when Evelyn threatened her with sobriety, Your brew is good, but not that good. I’ve lived longer without it than I have with, I really could give a shit less if you deny me. Which was true, Twelve loved the drink, but she didn’t need it to live (as much as she hated to admit it); plus, if Evelyn meant to make her life here miserable, then she would just move on to greener pastures.

But then, relenting slightly because Twelve knew it might not be the smartest of ideas to make enemies this soon into the game, You sure are a firecracker, I see why Butterface likes you. She shrugged, You’re right, it’s your choice to shoot puppies out your cooch if you want, I have no say in the matter. Good luck.

Twelve had found another door, this one a garage door of sorts. She could see the mechanics of it, rusted with time and weather; she doubted they still worked but maybe. Grasping the handle she gave it a tug, but it only moved a bit, the metal creaked in protest.

Twelve harrumphed and put her hands on her hips again, and then turned to the Escuella to answer her question, Need nails, lots. Or maybe strong twine, to right the wood that’s still useable. The rest will need to be replaced with new lumber. Would take about two weeks to finish if it was just a handful of us, twice as long if it’s just me. Then, looking back at the door, Damn, wish we had some grease or something… I might be able to… She trailed off, and tried again to pull the door open. It creaked again, and budget a bit more, but the hinges were rusted good.

OOC | [wc — +2] template by hilli, image from Bryan Mullennix
Del Cenere Gang
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Luperci Gaucho Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Sat Jul 27, 2019 6:06 pm

Evelyn's expression did not change when she asked, darkly, "Who said anything 'bout denyin'?" There were other ways to make a dependent coyote's life miserable... or, if she was feeling particularly vindictive, void. Though, she had to admit, denying someone their liquor was simpler. After all, the mystery of herblore, with its delicate balance between mild reactions and outright death, was beyond the Vicar and she preferred not to bother. And now, in this new land with its new plants, there was even less that she knew.

But she could make do if she felt compelled enough to, and the sharp, unblinking look on her ruined face conveyed as much.

Butterface. It did not take her more than an instant to know who the skinny coyote was referring to and, though she bristled subtly, Evelyn held her tongue this time. There were some battles that were better left unfought. But that did not mean that she would forget. Oh no, there were very few things that the Vicar ever forgot.

What goes around comes around.

"Hn," she replied, the sound nothing more than a grunt and a subtle nod of acknowledgement. She did not need the Twelve's luck or her blessing, though she did accept the woman's dissolution of the matter. It was better, sometimes, to let bygones be bygones.

Evelyn watched as the woman turned and attempted to tug on a door, her ears instinctively drawing back in reaction to the sharp protest of rusted metal. When the screeching ceased, she considered Twelve's list: nails and twine and wood and grease. "Take that up with El Camino," she replied, not unpleasantly. She agreed with the woman's assessment, after all, but the Vicar had no such skills she could offer to provide most of them. "Animal fat would be helpful, but another pair of arms might be enough."

Slipping her fingers through the gap left by the edge of the door and the frame, Evelyn glanced back at Twelve and waited for her word. She didn't dare give it her all, not with a belly full of babes, but Evelyn would not allow her present condition to limit her entirely.

[WC — 367]


Del Cenere Gang
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Little Bandit They stole my dirty socks... :( Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Sun Jul 28, 2019 6:12 pm

Can't go back, never go back - forward into the rust and dust

Twelve could feel the Burnt Woman’s eyes boring into her back like they were knives. It was everything she could do to keep from shuddering; fuck, seems like she was intimidated by this scarred, pregnant woman, how sad was that? Twelve would never show it though; never show vulnerability, never let them see you cry; she had learned that as soon as her mother’s teat was ripped from her lips.

Evelyn told her to take it up with the El Camino and it took her a good long second to realize what the hell she was talking about; all these new ranks and monikers were so new, she had yet to figure them out. El Camino… that was the leadership, and apparently the leadership was the young Nazario and Boone; interesting, she hadn’t voted for them, but this wasn’t a democracy. Twelve couldn’t complain, she could give a shit less who wanted to be head of the household here; less power meant less responsibility, and she didn’t want to be responsible to no one but herself.

That, above all else, was one of the reasons she turned her nose up at Evelyn’s swollen belly; not only would she now be responsible for herself, and those she loved, but the lives and well being of infants who could not even hope to care for themselves. To Twelve, that was more horrifying than the crack of the Master’s whip.

Evelyn mentioned animal fat and Twelve made a noise of agreement. Then, when the Escuella came to help Twelve dislodge the door, she hesitated, but then shrugged. Pregnant or not, she had to pull her weight, and the two of them together could maybe get this thing to budge.

Uno, dos, tres! She said, and then heaved alongside Evelyn. With a horrible crack, the garage door broke free, and violently swung open, its counterweights freed after years of corrosion. Twelve was sent sprawling backwards, and a cloud of dust and sand billowed out from the newly revealed entrance.

Quickly finding her footing, she waved her hand away from the dust until it finally settled; sunlight poured into the darkness of the building, illuminated the treasure that was inside.

And what a treasure it was.

There, almost perfectly preserved, was a shop. Various tools and goods and livestock related items were laid about, some still hanging on their display racks for people to come buy. Twelve could not help but stare, slack jawed, her eyes darting here and there trying to take stock of everything, Santa Maria… She whispered, her tongue immediately shifting to that of her mother.

Just FYI this garage door is a single paneled door, like this -> IMAGE | [wc — +2] template by hilli, image from Bryan Mullennix
Del Cenere Gang
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Luperci Gaucho Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Mon Aug 19, 2019 1:12 pm

Bending was uncomfortable, with the weight of her belly tugging at her back until it screamed and ached. But Evelyn did not complain. She refused to exhibit any evidence of her discomfort. Truth be told, if the facts were laid out before her, she might be surprised to know just how similar she and Twelve were in their philosophies to never show vulnerability. A lifetime of prejudice, danger, and running had taught her that.

And so, with her fingers between the rough, warm metal of the door and the rough, warm dirt of the ground, the Vicar waited silently until Twelve began to count. On three, she lifted up, the muscles in her arms and her back and her legs protesting with a single, constant burn. She did not give it her all, though, out of concern for her babes. So when the garage door finally gave in and shot up and out of their hands, Evelyn merely staggered while Twelve was sent sprawling.

After a cursory glance at the woman's prone figure, the fire-kissed coyote looked back into the open void of the building. As dirt and dust billowed out, she lifted her arm to her nose and mouth to cover it from the onslaught, squinting her eyes instinctively to protect them. Evelyn hovered outside the garage until Twelve, back on her feet again, entered into the belly of a building that had not been touched since the fall of man and the rise of Luperci.

"Hell," she murmured once she had followed Twelve within and cast her eyes upon the various items. Many were familiar, though there were plenty others she could only guess at. Santiago, she thought with lightness in her heart, would be eager to hear about this.

Padding along, Evelyn assessed some of the items, reaching out to touch some while simply sniffing others. The shop might have been missed by scavengers and looters, but time, weather, and insects had not been deterred and there was plenty of more vulnerable items that were damaged beyond repair. Others, though, could easily be patched or fixed. "This was a real decent find," she said impassively without looking at Twelve.

OOC: Ah! Good to know. Thank you!

[WC — 364]


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Little Bandit They stole my dirty socks... :( Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Mon Sep 02, 2019 4:46 pm

Can't go back, never go back - forward into the rust and dust

Gingerly, she stepped inside; the floor was made of wood, but covered in a pretty thick layer of dust and dirt. In fact, everything in here was covered in a veil of dust it seemed. Twelve began to look at the items inside more closely; there was tack in here, leather tack that was dried out and useless, but the metal bits were still good. There were also plastic looking horseshoes, she wasn’t sure what those were supposed to be used for.

Making her way behind what she figured must have been a counter for selling, she found a bunch more stuff, most still in boxes, Sure as shit was, sister! Would it kill you to be a little bit more enthusiastic? The grin on her face as she spoke belayed her jest. She had just found something quite amazing, wrapped in a bag that had been chewed to bits by insects and mice. Inside was a full set of farrier tools; the wood was warped and split but the metal blades and tips were all perfect intact, Hot damn! She said, slapping the find up on the counter, I think we’re going to find a lot of useful items here. And then, standing up fully from her crouched position, And this place seems to be in great shape too, might make a good shop. She smiled, and put her hands on her hips, Wouldn’t that be something… She mused to herself quietly.

Stepping back outside, she gripped the edge of the garage door to see if it would give, which it did, For now I think it best we close it back up and get some more bodies here to help restore it and the rest of the building, what do you think? She asked Evelyn, but already her mind was whirling with possibilities and planning, and the grin never left her face.

OOC | [wc — +2] template by hilli, image from Bryan Mullennix
Del Cenere Gang
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Luperci Gaucho Venerate savagery, Die savagely

POSTED: Sat Sep 07, 2019 5:54 pm

Evelyn rolled her eyes away from the dusty collection of tack and supplies, left behind by an epoch that had long since past, to fix a stony look against Twelve's scarred face. The smile on her face, though, suggested good humor. "Hn," came the Vicar's neutral response, turning away again to continue her own exploration of this old and forgotten place. She ran her fingers along dried strips of leather before blowing at a coating of dust that obscured the front of metal sign she could not read. The symbol of a horse was telling, though.

"Christ, woman!" the Vicar snarled at Twelve, spinning around and away from the sign to glower at the enthusiastic coydog, the sudden crack of metal hitting a solid counter startling her. There were a great number of things that Evelyn despised, but being surprised was high on her list. While the roughened woman carried on cheerfully about all the treasures yet to be discovered in this hidden paradise, the fire-kissed coyote willed her nerves to settle and her bared teeth to relax. But the glare remained, following Twelve's departure from the shop.

Evelyn breathed out and took a final glance around their dusty discovery, then followed suit. By the time she had joined Twelve outside, the glare had been replaced with her usual apathetic expression. She nodded. "Work here ain't like to get done any time soon with only the both of us," she agreed and lifted her arms to help Twelve close the door and shroud their discovery in darkness once again.

[WC — 264]


Del Cenere Gang
El Probado
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Mandi
Mate to Santiago Maestro Cervecero
Little Bandit They stole my dirty socks... :( Venerate savagery, Die savagely

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