[M] renaissance

POSTED: Wed May 10, 2017 6:04 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.

D’Neville Mansion, 2nd floor porch. Pre-dated May 15.

Her life sparsely missed by Death and His scythe, in her dragging days of recovery Dove took to the world as if glancing upon it with a newborn’s eyes. Her bed was an adversary after the weeks spent there feverish and deathly ill, and it took little convincing on Salvador’s part to motivate the young Reverie from her first-floor room and up to the second story to get her first look at spring in bloom: her favorite time of year.

She took with her Saffron’s blanket on her shoulders and an ambition that ran thin as she became winded halfway up the stairs to mansion’s second floor. Sympathetic for reasons Dove did not understand Salvador offered an arm and supported her, and so too did he open the door to the second-story porch for her.

Her body thin and limbs weak and atrophied, Dove leaned on the balcony huddled in her sister’s blanket and gaped out across Inferni, weary yet hypnotized by the fresh light greens of new spring. How new her appreciation seemed—how fresh, as if with opened eyes. “It’s... beautiful.”

“Damn it,” the Sadira said behind her, rummaging still through his pockets as he had been a few minutes. “I must've already used my last cigarette.”

“You don’t need it.” Dove breathed in long and deep, relishing the fresh air, remembering the staleness of her bedroom and the stench of rain that seemed to sting still to her hair and coat now days after it finally passed.

“No, but I want it.”

“Come look.” Dove gestured out from the porch. “Everything’s growing so fast now that the sun’s out again.”

Chuckling, Salvador stepped beside her and leaned on the bannister as she did. “I haven’t been cooped up in bed since the rain stopped, I’ve already seen it. How you feeling, kid?”

“I’d kill for some of the stuff my dad grows.”

He winked. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Last edited by Dove Reverie on Tue Jun 20, 2017 8:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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POSTED: Thu May 18, 2017 2:15 pm

There was something cathartic about being outside and Anna was happy to finally romp in the dry. The rain had eased and the sun returned with blessed welcome, especially after weeks of downpour and sorrow. Anna sure as hell loved that she could escape the dank and musk of the mansion, especially as it was still slow to air out from the time of illness. Her windows were wide open and ratty curtains billowed frequently, and still she could detect the perfume of disease.

She slept far more often by her forge than her bed when the weather cleared and the ground dried.

But she had thoughts and those thoughts needed sketches on paper that was left in the dark of her room, and she took her birch bark wrapped charcoal pen with her as she left the room, door shut, and a breath of relief having followed her escape from the room she had thought she would die in. Granted, she had been eventually forced to join the rest of the diseased, but that did not mean at some point she truly thought she'd die there.

Usually robust and well muscled, Anna had lost some mass and looked far thinner than she liked. She needed some more padding on her body, having been muscled and lean to begin with. Wavy hair lay atop her shoulders, brushed and clean, though she still had no beeswax to do her once favorite set of curls.

About to leave the hallway, she spotted a pair on the balcony. Her eyes flickered to the man, then the woman, and decided she much preferred the man in that pair. Though she hardly knew either. Still, her once fiery passion for things was dulled but returning steadily. With a half-grin, she stood in the doorway, eyeing the man. "Looking to jump?" she asked the duo.

Annabeth de Fonte


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POSTED: Thu May 25, 2017 9:17 pm

Dove recognized the woman who joined them on the porch as a clanmate, and knew her image (and nothing else) well enough to remember an admiration for muscular tone, yet now notice a significant weight and muscle loss instead. As Salvador had said when the two first met, the sickness was widespread and effective; it left its brand on Inferni by taking Harosheth and several four-legged companions, and it left the people thin and frail like wisps. Dove had yet to see its toll on her clanmates for herself, and wondered how pathetic she looked herself.

“No,” said Dove, though the woman’s attention lingered on Salvador. She coughed twice into a fist. “Are you?”

The Sadira leaned back on the bannister and looked at his Reverie companion. ”That cough’s not letting up, is it?” Shrugging, he smiled to the tawny woman. ”You two know each other?”

The Sciens shook her head and pulled in the blanket on her shoulders. ”I’m Dove.”

”Yeah, Salvador—hey, girl, I don't suppose you have a smoke you wouldn't mind parting with, would you?”

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POSTED: Thu Jun 01, 2017 11:39 pm

Anna did not know Dove, but Anna did not know everyone in the clan. It was too full of people to really allow for "knowing" and she chose not to try too hard. Acquaintances she might have but she did not much feel like spending the effort needed to take them into the friend-zone. She was not above sleeping with most of them, but friendship required more emotional energy than she really felt like spending most of the time. That and closeness often meant pain, having watched her family rip and tear over lovers.

She sighed, then shook her head. "Not today, unfortunately," she said with a click of the tongue, peering over the edge from her position for but a brief moment. The woman coughed, and Anna wondered if she had been ill. If so, had she always been so thin and frail looking? Anna did not know but she had never noticed Dove much before that moment, having a strong preference for stronger looking women who could compete with her strength of character, aka obnoxious attitude.

The man directed a question at her and Anna sent him a sidelong gaze, something a little sharper. "I don't know you either, but I'd like to," she said without missing a beat, turning her attention back to Dove. "Pleasure, Dove. I'm Anna," she said simply, her full name slowly becoming the an annoyance her mother cursed her with. The man asked her more things and she had to shake her head. "No. Alcohol is my poison of choice, but I can try and snag some from storage if you want to roll one with me? Or are you thinking something a little more.. potent in mind?" Marijuana was not something she reached for often at all, but she was not opposed when attractive people were involved.

Annabeth de Fonte


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POSTED: Tue Jun 20, 2017 9:01 pm

Given that response, Salvador raised his brows and smirked when Annabeth turned away from him. Bemused but charmed, he leaned back on the bannister and fished through his last pocket, hopeful for a forgotten stash of one last cigarette. ”Cigarettes first, alcohol second, and whatever comes third, third.” Stronger stuff, of course, is what he meant. ”If you know where the goods are hiding, I’d—”

”We’d,” intervened Dove, visibly concerned to be left behind.

"—We’d be glad to tag along.”

Salvador opened the door from the porch for them, and once through the mansion the two Lykoi followed Annabeth to storage. Lagging behind, Dove thought of Cartier in the doorframe of storage when he had helped to fix her bow and recalled seeing no alcohol or tobacco during her visit that day.

“That thing going around didn’t really touch you, eh?” Salvador grinned, walking in stride beside the tawny de Forte. He gestured to Dove behind them with a flick of his head. “Nearly killed her. You must have one hell of a secret.”

all the colors mix together to gray
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POSTED: Sat Jun 24, 2017 2:12 pm

Salvador opened the door for them, and Anna led them through the mansion. Her destination was the storage room on the first floor, which mercifully was not a long walk away. She rejoiced in that; she did not feel like trekking far for a drug she did not use regularly at all.

Oh, she snorted, though, entirely unladylike. "Didn't hit me? I guess I spent all that time with the rest of the sick people for fun," she countered dryly, though in decidedly good humor over the whole thing. She was not pleased with how weak she was, but she was happy to see that she did not look as though she had been thrown through the rapids and tossed out a soggy mess. "I lost a lot of weight I need to gain back. Hard to work metal when your arms feel like limp sausages," she said with a sigh, flopping her arms up and down. There was definition still left there, a noticeable crest to her biceps, but she knew better.

Still, she eyed Dove. The woman looked sickly alright, but she had assumed partially that it was just the way she was. "Oh, I'm glad to see you came out the other side okay," she said with genuine feeling. While she did not know her well or at all, there was no honor in being taken by disease and losing to a sickness felt like hopelessness. Anna liked things she could fight to be very visible to her.

Once in the storage room, she began to do the deep search through the shelves and things, looking and smelling to see if she could find a single bit of the treasured good. It was slim pickings as everything else was decidedly not tobacco. There was no weed in there either, but she knew there was some in the greenhouse.

"Nothing," she said finally, turning a tight lipped line to the man and the woman. "But, I know where we can get marijuana," she offered, not wanting to part ways just yet with a handsome man, who was also accompanied by a woman but details. "The greenhouse will have some for us, for certain. It's not tobacco, but how about it?" That and she was less than eager to doll out her limited supply of alcohol if Dove was going to join them.

Annabeth de Fonte


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