with everyone as their own broadcast

POSTED: Wed Apr 09, 2014 10:36 am

For Kenna. Midday and somewhere mid-territory.

At heart he had no opinion on the changes made to the pack of late. Outside hierarchy, the names were meaningless to him, for Micah had always been called an artist according to the system—Immaginazione, Artist, Inspired, it was all the same thing—and he was given no specific duties outside the average scouting and hunting and border control. If they did not trust him with anything more, that was their decision and he could not blame them. He was not a warrior like Esmeralda or a smart talker like Taliesin had been. Micah was an artist. He was expected to make art.

He could not complain for the freedom, but what purpose did he serve as a member? Few came by to glance upon his sorry excuses for murals or inquire about his beads and necklaces. The combatative majority of the pack found no need to tutor beneath him in the arts as he had openly offered.

But it had been requested of him to spruce up pack with color, and the Lykoi jumped at the opportunity. It was not often his shoddy art served some purpose, and the male had taken a short trip to Wolfville to garner more spraypaint for the occasion. He had not painted since Mistral left—he had lost all spirit—but the midday breeze was kind and the sunlight warm and Micah refused to spend another spring day indoors.

A book on birds scavenged in the past from Halifax accompanied him outdoors, a large picture of a macaw propped open against a rock as he worked against bark alongside. He could read no text, he knew not its name, but selected the tropical bird for its bright and joyful hues. On one tree he sprayed the beautiful shades of red and white of its head; on a second in line some space back he started its shoulder and the first yellows of its wings, then stopped back and aligned himself just right. Though incomplete, between the two trees the image appeared as one picture.

He took a breath and spread an increasingly rare smile, shaking the yellow spraypaint can in his hand before pressing on with his work.


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Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Sat Apr 12, 2014 9:56 pm

OOC: Sorry for the delay. WC: 734

IC: The order had been given by Skye to reinforce the borders of the pack and like many of her fellow d'Artisans, Kenna was eager to take on the task. The plan was to paint all the trees along the edge of the territory with various artisitic things and under a select few, marked with the secret Trader's Guild symbol, members were instructed to dig pitfall traps and place spikes at the bottom. In other places, caltrops were to be hung from the boughs of the trees and barbed wire was to be spread along the ground. There was a lot to be done but Kenna was confident that these new wards against enemies and miscreants would get Cercatori's message out clear; they were not to be messed with. Now Subleader of the pack, it was important to Kenna that she continue to work extra hard for the good of d'Arte and that she get to know all of her pack mates. There were a certain few that she still didn't know well and she was determined to make up for that. She wanted everyone to be able to trust her and come to her for anything, just as they would Skye.

For now however, it was time to get to work on the new reinforcements. Socializing would come later. Having gathered up some various paints, dyes and other artistic tools of the trade from d'Artes wares, the collie woman set out towards the borders. Carrying everything she would need in a satchel across her back, the cowgirl made her way through her home lands, admiring the greenery and new life around her that signaled Spring was in full swing. It didn't take her long before the scent markers became heavy in the air (someone had recently been by to refresh them). There was also another scent on the air, that of acrid chemicals. Snorting softly to clear her nose of the powerful smell of the spray paint, Kenna was then able to detect the underlying scent of another of her pack mates. Micah was his name if she remembered correctly. The quiet male was one of the people she had on her list to get to know better. What a coincidence that she'd run into him him now. Smiling softly, Kenna's ears perked at the hissing sound of the spray cans being used up ahead. The smell of paint was heavy in the air so there was no mistaking where she'd find the artist responsible. There was also an obvious shimmer to the paint on the bark of the trees that had just been sprayed. From up close, she couldn't see the full image of the Macaw that was spread across the trunks of the many trees.

As she appeared from around one of the still-wet trees, Kenna held an arm over her nose and muzzle so as not to continue breathing in the heaviest of the fumes. She could see Micah just ahead preparing to resume his painting on yet another tree. She hadn't thought to bring something to cover her face to help her breathe better as he did. But then again, her preferred medium for painting wasn't spray paint. Coughing once the collie woman called out to the busy, dark pelted d'Artisan to get his attention. "Hey! Micah!" She smiled and chuckled softly. "It's me, Kenna. Hold on a second there!" She said and approached him with a wagging tail. She was fairly sure he already knew her name, but it never hurt to be sure. "Let the air clear a little bit before you continue? Gotta breathe some time." She chuckled, coming to a stop before him, still covering her nose, but also grinning in a playful, friendly manner. "I see you've been hard at work. How long have you been at this?" She asked, curious, examining the colorful splotches in front of her, still not able to make out the tropical bird. Even though she didn't know him well, that didn't stop Kenna from being friendly and open. She knew that the male could be rather shy and she hoped that her upbeat demeanor would be something he'd feel more comfortable with. Subleader or not, Kenna wasn't the type to be all about dominance and rules. She'd rather her pack mates feel comfortable around her rather than feel they needed to grovel at her feet because of her rank.


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Westy
Luperci Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy Saddle Up. Shut Up. Hold On Tight.
Wilder Than The West
One Wild Ride

POSTED: Thu Apr 17, 2014 3:36 pm

Filled with his sound of his name, ears swiveled and gold-stained finger raised from nozzle of the spraypaint in his grasp. Straightening to full, average height, Micah glanced almond eyes upon the newly inducted subleader of Cercatori d'Arte, Kenna, with whom he had never formed a semblance of acquaintanceship despite many months as a member with her. She was admittedly lovelier up close and increasingly so with every approaching step. It was not surprising, of course, considering how many children he knew her to have reared, but now more than ever she had nothing to do with a humble artist like he. Had he been wrong to paint on the trees? Had it not been what Skye had asked of them?

"Kenna," he acknowledged behind the blue kerchief, numbly alarmed by her appearance, and wasted no time untying the knot beneath his wild curls and pulling the fabric free to offer to her. "Here. The smell can make you dizzy if you're not used to it."

Uncertain how to submit to new leadership, the male bowed his head with respect and said, "Congratulations on the promotion. You deserved it." The sentiment, though genuine, delivered quietly and with reserve for his moods of late were tumultuous and he knew nothing of what Cercatori d'Arte truly needed or deserved. Perhaps it was best he remain the dark, where he—and a number others—thought himself to belong.

Numb and strikingly void of emotion in his tone and movements, the Inspired glanced to the section of the mural partially finished across one of three trees. "A few hours," he said, for a moment wondering when Mistral would quip in something rude and selfish before his gut turned with memory of her departure. "It, it was requested of us, so... well, hopefully someone will like it."

Suspicion still lingering, he turned to her with the tiniest fret of the brows. Why was she here, talking to someone insignificant like him? She had never had reason before. "Have I, uhh, have I done something wrong?"


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

POSTED: Tue May 06, 2014 5:10 pm

OOC: My apologies for being so slow! DX WC: 694

IC: Keeping her arm covering her nose as the acrid scent of the paint began to fade away in the breeze, Kenna was grateful as Micah offered her the cloth he'd had about his own face to protect from the spray. "Here. The smell can make you dizzy if you're not used to it." Smiling in thanks Kenna shook her head however. "Nah, I'm alright. I actually have one of my own. Wouldn't want you to have to do without. But thank you Micah." She said and proceeded to loosen the blue bandana that was tied around the shoulder strap of her pack. "I was going to use it for cleaning up, but I think it'll come much more in handy this way." She chuckled and dipped her head in acknowledgment of the male's ingenuity. Removing the bandana, she then mimicked how Micah had had his rag tied about his face. She felt like some bandit from the 'old west'. A brief flash of memory from her childhood of her father reading her a western novel came to mind and she wagged her tail.

"Congratulations on the promotion. You deserved it." The quiet male complimented then and the collie woman's tail wagged more. "Thank you. I hope to do everything I can to be what this pack needs in a Subleader. It was actually a bit of a surprise when Skye came to find me...I honestly didn't expect it." She admitted, brows furrowing a moment in thought. Shrugging the cowgirl refocused on the painted trees in front of them and listened to Micah' timid response to her query. "It, it was requested of us, so... well, hopefully someone will like it." Narrowing her eyes, then taking a couple steps back, the image of the Mccaw came into sight and Kenna's eyes widened, impressed. "Oh! Wow! It's beautiful Micah! I've never seen a bird like that before...So colorful!" She grinned at the male through the bandana, blue eyes genuinely bright and sincere as her words. "You have some real talent!" She wagged her tail. "I wouldn't have thought to spread the image between the trees like that. Huh. That's pretty clever." She said with approval and turned to open her pack full of her own painting supplies, ears perking as Micah spoke again.

"Have I, uhh, have I done something wrong?" Pausing in the midst of pulling out some large paint brushes the collie woman looked over her shoulder a little confused by such a question. "No...? Why'd you think that?" She asked with a slight tip of her head in concern. "Your art is wonderful Micah, I'm glad you've taken on the task of painting the border trees. I came out here to do some work of my own. ...You don't mind my joining you do you?" She asked, suddenly a little hesitant that maybe she'd been too abrupt with the shy male. She had no idea how down, outcast and alone he felt within the pack. "I mean...I know we haven't really spoken much before, and for that I am truly sorry..." She frowned, apology and some guilt in her eyes. "I've made it a personal goal of mine to be more involved with my pack mates, Subleader or not. I think that all of us should feel accepted and welcome in d'Arte and I haven't exactly done a great job of welcoming or getting to know our newer pack members. You included Micah." She said, placing a light paw on the male's shoulder and sighing a little heavily a small whine behind the breath. "I just hope you know that even though you may not know me well right now, I will always lend a listening ear or a helping hand should you need it." She said sincerely, ears folded. "And I hope that we won't have to stay such strangers to each other for much longer." She said softly with kindness and a small, genuine smile. Unlike some leaders who'd she'd encountered before, Kenna strived to not be all about business and seriousness. She was glad to show emotion, humility and to be there on a more personal level for her pack mates, her family.


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Westy
Luperci Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy Saddle Up. Shut Up. Hold On Tight.
Wilder Than The West
One Wild Ride

POSTED: Fri May 09, 2014 9:10 am

wh-why did I write so much

Micah retracted the offered kerchief with fingers stiffened, nodding in acknowledgement without a smile as she tied one of her own in place. The Lykoi tossed the cloth across his shoulder, signaling it was safe to breathe in the open air with the spraypaint at rest.

Despite her ongoing kindness in dialogue, the Inspired remained quite humorless, smiling when it seemed required but quick to withdraw once more thereafter. It was not that he did not wish to speak with her, but more than he did not know how; the two seemed even more opposite in close company than he had expected. She was a talker. She was a listener. Their exchange would function, but without a doubt Kenna would walk from it regetting having initiated. Perhaps there was good reason he was not well aquainted with the majority of his packmates.

She was modest when congratulated, and Micah shrugged and offered the smallest of laughs in response. "Skye has never taken on helpers before for as long as I've known her—longer than Esmeralda has even been around. She must think highly of you." Kenna must have been honored.

She exclaimed about his mural across the trees, a burst of energy he should have anticipated but weighted beneath instead. The subleader's compliments could have been genuine and truly impressed, but he could not interpret them as such. Even if he was a decent artist, what purpose did he serve? Kind words from the upper echelon about his drawing ability hardly meant he was in any way valuable to the machinations of a pack. He made for a humble smile in reply, muting his bitterness, a knitted brow when she began to rout through what appeared to be painting supplies of her own and explained herself. "You paint?"

She expressed an earnest desire to acquaintance herself better with her packmates, not necessarily as their leader but as a friend and confidante. Micah, thrown off guard by such a forward appeal for friendship—increasingly rare for him these days, he who could not boast a "close" friend in the world—lost attention to his features and slipped slowly into a rather stark, disbelieving stare, one far more critical than he ordinarily even felt.

"Oh," said Micah, snapping to attention and putting forth a smile as convincing as he could muster. Even if he bore no faith in it, the gesture was wholeheartedly appreciated. "Sure. That'd, uhh, that'd be nice. Thank you."

It was not as if he believed she would not try. Micah simply considered the promise at face value, figuring she might give up the effort to get to know him as any other would. Most left him to his own devices, few interested in what lay beyond his nervous demeanor and fewer willing to find out. He rarely spoke of himself and his opinions, and knew well that it would not change with her. Why should he open up to someone when he would inevitably fade back into the background and ultimately be forgotten again? After all, for over six months their relationship had been just that.

"How long have you been a painter?" Micah asked instead, changing course of dialogue before she could convince him otherwise and inspire hopes to crash harder when unfulfilled. He glanced over her kit, delighted yet still humorless. Not even the prospect of a fellow artist seemed to shake his mood of late. "What were you planning to make?"


User avatar
Lin
Luperci
passion, hope
& resistance

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