gems and rhinestones

POSTED: Thu Nov 21, 2013 10:03 am

He wouldn't go near Halifax: There were child-napping maniacs there. He didn't dare further north of Casa di Cavalieri, for he did not wish to be cornered by Inferni members again. Inferni had been home to his sisters, yet for Micah the clan only provided members to harass and hurt him. Where were the Lykoi? Did no one recognize the spot on his nose?

Then again, did he want to be recognized?

Micah could not stay cooped up in Cercatori d'Arte any longer. He blamed Razekiel for the inherent need to move and browse, and coincidentally he also blamed Razekiel for his anxieties and shortcomings as a result of his sister's murder. The scratches at his lips were not healing as Micah wished they would. He feared they would become scars, that he would look further disfigured in his moments of cowering and begging for his life, as if he could not be ashamed enough already. But neither could he continue to fret and fuss and refuse to leave his Thornbury home until they healed, because they evidently weren't going to, and so he went.

Mimi opted to stay behind, now more or less able to handle herself around pack territory despite her size, and truth be told she had been testy with Micah since the incident with the Inferni woman. He wondered if he had failed her somehow, though unlike him she had escaped unscathed, but he dismissed it as the inexperience of youth and that she would return to normal soon enough.

The coyote had no destination, just a need to move his legs and shake off his anxieties. A walk along the Shattered Coast seemed safe enough, though inevitably cold; with outstretched beaches and a lack of foliage he could not be jumped as he was near Arachnea's Revenge.

And so Micah rested there for a time, cross-legged in the sand, focusing on the wintry winds in his fur and the beading work he had found in the bottom of his satchel, forgotten some time before. Tiny balls handmade from clay and spritzed with the bright colors of his spraypaint back home. All they needed was to be aligned on this string...

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passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Tue Dec 10, 2013 9:23 pm

570 Have some word vomit! And sorry for the wait, my dear! <3

It was the salt and pepper of his fur that drew a memory to Lily’s mind. It seemed like ages ago – she had still been too young to shift, and still found security and comfort in the throne room of her father. Clover didn’t often speak of her family, or where they had come from, but Lily had been able to get a few things out of her. The young Revlis girl could never quite figure out why Clover seemed to withhold some of the truth from her. It was for her own good, most likely Clover assumed, but Lily couldn’t help but wonder if it was to save Clover’s own self from facing some sort of past hurt.

She knew of her aunts and uncle, but she did not know where they lived now. This, mostly, was because Clover herself didn’t know. Inferni was a name Lily knew now, and was taught that it was the place where the Lykoi name originated from. She had not been given this name – Revlis has stuck with her just as it had with her brothers – but she knew that she was no less a Lykoi because of it; the red accents that marked her cheeks were tell-tale of her bloodline.

As if it were yesterday, she could picture her and her mother curled within the large stone throne that had once been occupied by Sirius. There was a light scent of weed smoke and the sweet smell of peppermint, and Lily could easily remember the feeling of contentment as she curled up to her mother’s warmth. Those sunshine yellow eyes looked loving at her daughter, as she reminisced about her days of youth with China, Sage, and Micah.

Sage was the one that looked the most like Clover herself, and was kind and free-spirited. China was the one who most resembled their father, and most notably honored Juniper Peace’s ideals of peace and love. Micah was the oddball, with fur of salt and pepper coloring, and was described as the quiet and independent sibling. Clover always spoke highly of them all – cherishing each individually for those characteristics that made them unique. Lily loved to listen to old stories about her aunts and uncle, mostly to see her mother smile brighter than she’d ever seen before.

The mirage of that past memory seemed to dissipate like a fog, and Lily was left with nothing but the present before her. The figure in question had situated himself along the sands of the coast – a place where Lily too liked to spend time alone. Perhaps it was not her uncle at all, but she had a feeling at the very least he would not be too hostile at her approach. This was neutral territory, after all. After all this time wandering on her own, she figured... why the hell not?

On two legs, her approach didn’t raise much noise. The lazy rhythm of the winter waves offered a lovely, soothing backdrop to the day. As she drew nearer, her gaze went to his hands to try and determine what it was he was working on. She couldn’t quite make out whatever it was that had him so occupied. I don’t mean to interrupt, she started, realizing that in fact that was exactly what she aimed to do. I was just wondering if I might join you? This is one of my favorite places to reflect.

POSTED: Wed Dec 11, 2013 9:44 am

He committed to mind happier times, memories warm like a firefly's glow from the darker recesses within his pitiful skull. Gone were the troubles of Wraith, of Priam, of Inferni. Gone were his worries for Mimi and for her Halifax keeper, and gone were the troubles of the scarlet eyes that followed him from Valerie's drawing miles away. He thought of his mother, her meditation techniques. How dearly she had wished he would attempt them to ease his anxiety, but the son had always refused to resemble his father in such practice.

But out here, no one would recognize him. No one remembered Razekiel anymore.

The Lykoi remembered their den, the warmth of his sisters minus one, huddled by their mother's side. He remembered their first reunion along Inferni borders, the image of all three girls running for him, the individual scents on their fur as they embraced him. Then a shiver shook his spine and the cold of winter returned, and Micah remembered at once how truly alone he had become.

But was it the winter that had startled him or the woman that appeared at his side? Startled a moment, Micah gaped with almond eyes estranged and spilled the string of beads in his lap and sand. "Oh," he stammered, "y-yes, of course. I hope I'm not, umm, intruding on your space."

Micah resisted every urge to apologize to her and excuse himself from her company, but had she not requested to join him? As the woman settled herself he considered her, reminded in an instant of Clover by the identical hue in pelt. But that could not be; that was surely result of lingering memories, something he simply wanted himself to see. For some time he had missed the intangible company of Storm Lily despite her horrid negativity; perhaps she might have agreed on the resemblance. He collected his beads and tried to clear the concept from his mind before the sudden upset in his gut grew worse.

"I didn't think anyone lived out here," he said, quietly swearing to himself he would leave her to her reflection once the strange curiosity was satiated.

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passion, hope
& resistance

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