I long for home fires, and my bed, and you

Fisher Co-rank // AW // Folly Lake

POSTED: Wed Mar 15, 2017 2:44 am

Word Count → 351 :: Fisher: Fish Inferni's oceans, rivers, lakes, and ponds // Noel is in Optime form, takes place at Folly Lake around midnight!

He used to come to the edge of the slum’s crumbing docks at night when he was younger, weighed down by nothing but his well-worn fishing rod and the burden of his own thoughts.

The air always felt crisper at night, sharp and cutting in his nose. Since his acceptance into Inferni three months or so back, the street urchin hadn’t managed to scrounge up the chance (nor the courage) to return to the waters -- the last time he’d ventured out with the intent to fish another living, breathing body had accompanied him. He supposed he should be grateful for the silence, as the life he had found within the skull-lined borders did not seem like one of peace and quiet -- the constant solitude did grow tedious after awhile, though, blurring his days together in a hazy cloud.

He carried with him a makeshift fishing pole, painstakingly constructed from a long, sturdy branch and spare thread scavenged from the storage room. Noel had crafted the rod not long after his admittance into the pack, having stashed them away for an opportunity like this; the equipment he’d owned in the slums had been left behind, as he was unable to bring it along on the lengthy journey to ‘Souls. Although a net would’ve brought in more fish, his goal tonight was not to catch a meal -- a nighttime outing would clear his head, perhaps, and flush out the heavy thoughts that plagued his consciousness.

The coyjackal briefly contemplated setting up his pole on one of the rotting docks near the shore, eventually deciding against it before he padded silently to the water’s edge. A sigh escaped him as he settled down on a nearby bank, not even pausing to admire the smattering of wildflowers that were starting to sprout up along the hills. The moon was a ghostly white orb in the sky, illuminating the rippling water as he cast his line. Whether or not he caught something tonight did not concern him; he wanted nothing but to quell the bitter feeling of loneliness that had suddenly struck him.

POSTED: Wed Mar 15, 2017 5:09 pm

CAN'T GET RID OF ME THAT EASILY BUB


Each night Dove took the same path when she concluded her rounds of the borders searching for her brother. At the northwesternmost point she stopped, looping through Ravenswrest and Folly Lake where she and River Lark had nestled together for warmth and called their rural, natural home. Without him, she was unable to keep warm at night and had taken—temporarily, as she insisted—to the central mansion, where her few belongings had also been stored.

She hoped, with each passing night, she would return to the dugout and find River Lark returned and confused, wondering where she'd been. An each passing night she walked her own footsteps deeper into the snow, passing on towards the mansion fruitless and discouraged.

Though she was not near the dugout, her heart skipped that night when Dove saw someone on the lake. It sunk again like a bobber beneath the surface when she realized he was not her brother. Four-legged and a few strides behind him she did not strive to make her presence hidden as she carried on, then paused and took a second, harder look.

"You shifted," Dove observed, small and close to the ground just as Noel had been the first time they met. "How did it happen?"

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POSTED: Thu Mar 16, 2017 11:39 pm

Word Count → 330 :: I THOUGHT I FINALLY SHOOK YOU OFF

Black-tipped ears caught a soft shuffle of footsteps behind him, the owner of the noise slowly drawing closer. The coyjackal stiffened as he turned to face the approaching stranger, mind instantly wide and alert. Though he was located deep within Inferni lands, Noel was not one to take chances when it came to the unknown.

Upon seeing her, his cobalt eyes widened a fraction -- almost unnoticeable under the cover of night. “Dove,” he murmured, hackles flattening against the nape of his neck once he had identified the source of the voice. It had taken him a moment for him place who she was, as her appearance had changed severely during the course of a month.

Noel dragged his eyes over her slender build, taking in her wind-ruffled fur and jaded expression. Her face was gaunt and somber, too thin to be healthy; she looked almost ghostlike in comparison to the same woman he’d seen just weeks before. The alabaster hybrid's malnourished figure was not an unfamiliar one, however, as it somewhat mirrored his just months before -- to actually see such a drastic change in another was unnerving.

He startled slightly at the sound of her voice, still distracted as he took in her strikingly underweight physique. “I, um, just followed what you said. To meditate, and all that.” The teen cleared his throat then continued, ears flattening against his skull. “Sorry,” he continued after a brief pause, lithe fingers toying with a strand of loose string dangling from the pole as he spoke. “‘Bout before, I mean. I was kind of an ass.”

Hesitantly, Noel motioned her over to a small clearing on the banks next to where he sat. “What are you doin' out here this late?” he questioned, half-expecting to know what her response would be. As reclusive as he may be, the mottled Sciens was no stranger to the rumors floating around Inferni -- especially not to one as infamous as the one surrounding her.

POSTED: Wed Mar 22, 2017 5:53 pm

She knew her physique had startled him; it was not the first time she was glanced over like a canvas of skin and paintstrokes of bones, a painting too grotesque or uncomfortable to appreciate in a gallery. Ashamed and withdrawing Dove lowered her head and glowered, ready to snap at Noel when the inevitable line of questioning followed, but it didn't.

The Reverie hadn't expected him to mind her advice on meditation, let alone find success in it. Noel apologized for his behavior, mirroring her talk with Oriole. Dove shrugged and drifted closer to his side when prompted. "Yeah, you were. It's fine, you shifted. How was it?"

Dove did not seat herself beside him, but dawdled as if uncertain whether to rest or press on. Her eyes lingered in direction of her empty dugout. "I was walking the borders. My brother's been missing, and we lived over there by the lake. Sometimes I expect he'll come back and I'll find him sleeping." Without giving him time to speak on the subject she pressed instead, "Isn't it kind of cold and dark to be fishing this late?"

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POSTED: Mon Apr 03, 2017 2:58 am

Word Count → 364 :: Out of Character text

Noel watched as her expression turned dark as he turned, almost as if she’d expected a different response to her arrival. Unsure if he had done something wrong, the Sciens shifted his eyes to the end of his rod, feeling strangely sheepish.

He shrugged in response to her query, making a small noncommittal noise from the back of his throat. “It's… been a while since I shifted. Not a whole lotta opportunities in the streets, y’know?” the coyjackal spoke up haltingly, surprising even himself. His past was not something Noel frequently discussed -- why he was offering up bits and pieces of his history was a mystery even to him.

Out of the corner of his eye the Sciens could catch Dove lingering uncertainty behind him, as if unsure whether to stay or go. He could tell that she had been avoiding the subject of River from her attempt to glaze over the topic, but didn’t press any further -- the slender male choose to humor her instead, intending to address the issue of her brother after he’d answered the red herring of their conversation.

“I like it better this way,” Noel replied simply, blue eyes never leaving the glittering surface of the lake. “When it’s ‘cold and dark’ like this -- there’s just something to it that calls to me, I guess.”

“I heard ‘bout what happened to him,” he pushed on, choosing his words carefully as he schooled his expression into a neutral slate. “Never talked to him all that much, but he seemed like a good kid.” The coyjackal ignored the fact that River was only a few days younger than him -- he usually took maturity more into account than age, convinced that the slums had aged him faster than he’d deserved. Noel let out a bark of dry laughter, shaking his head as he adjusted the pole. “Never really talk to anyone much these days.”

The tip of his makeshift rod had begun to dip mid-sentence, bringing his attention back to the lake. He stood up abruptly, tightening his grip on the wooden base as he tentatively tugged to test the line. “Hold up, I think I got somethin’.”

POSTED: Thu Apr 06, 2017 7:10 pm

"Uh... sure." Why would one need to be prompted by opportunity to shift? To Dove it was, like sex, nudity, and all other things pertaining to the body, a natural thing never to be shamed or hindered. Shifting was as much a means of self-expression as it was a utility; it blessed her with both four feet when she wished to feel the soil between her toes, and opposable thumbs when she didn't. The Reverie struggled to understand those that didn't see equal advantages in multiple forms, and her tone evidenced she did not believe him. "It gets easier the more you do it, if that's what's holding you back."

She watched the line draw circles in the lake. Cold and dark did not appeal to her, but cool and beneath a sky of stars? Irresistible. Softly she replied, almost nostalgic, "I hope the crickets come out soon."

He seemed like a good kid, said Noel, and Dove cut in suddenly with a fire fast igniting in her eyes. "Seems," she said. "He seems like a good kid. You're right. He is. And he's going to turn up soon."

The quiet that spanned thereafter felt wrong.

It was with hooded eyes made wearier that she glanced up as his fishing line pulled. Her ears and brows raised to attention, but four-footed she was of no help. Dove stepped aside to give him room, and was silent and awkward as she looked on.

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POSTED: Sat Apr 15, 2017 4:25 am

Word Count →260 :: Out of Character text

It was with an effortless ease in which he pulled the writhing creature from the troubled waters, his movements sharp and practiced. An old feeling of satisfaction rushed through his blood at the sight of his catch -- an emotion he had almost forgotten in the following months. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he turned back to face Dove, obviously displaying the hooked fish on his line. “Not too shabby for someone outta practice, dontcha think?” Although the Sciens male had picked up on many tricks and trades from the lowlives at the docks, fishing was one of the few skills he was proud to possess.

Noel appraised the weight of the scaly animal in question, noting that it would probably make a good meal for someone looking for a bite to eat. His sight shifted to the silvery woman’s bony frame at the thought of food, stare slowly turning contemplative. Wordlessly, the coyjackal unhooked the fish from the line in one swift movement and held it out as a clear offering to the snowy female. The slender male averted his eyes immediately after, not wanting to be subjected to the questioning gaze he expected Dove to cast his way. “You’ll need your strength to look for your brother.” he reasoned quickly, feeling a strange, unprompted urge to explain himself. It was a odd feeling -- whether she chose take up his offer or not should be of no importance to him -- but it rooted itself within him all the same, settling uncomfortably under his skin.

POSTED: Tue Apr 25, 2017 4:15 pm

Fishing had been more of Gust’s thing, really; something he and River Lark had taken to doing together to escape their three sisters. Dove was not so girlish that she would refuse a fishing pole or to wade in the pond herself, but she had never considered it. Her mother had taught her the bow and arrow, and when she needed to hunt two-legged she did as such, albeit poorly.

She did not mirror his smile as Noel drew and prided himself over his wriggling catch, but the Reverie looked on with placated eyes and nodded her agreement. He considered her thereafter; her ears flipped, and just as she started to suspect as much, his catch was offered to her.

Dove looked at the fish, at her feet, at the pond, and finally at him. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. You, um, you mentioned you’ve done this before? Fished?”

She didn’t care, really, but if either of the clanmates were to talk about themselves, she did not want to do it.

all the colors mix together to gray
Cour des Miracles
DEAD
User avatar
Lin
Luperci Chaos Star
smoke and mirrors
BAPTISM BY FIRE

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