i'm jumping from the plane we flew

POSTED: Fri Apr 20, 2018 8:39 pm

She wandered Salsola carefully, a tiger caged behind bars of tradition and carefully cultivated rules. The Thistle Kingdom was a place that protected its members viciously and used the term Outsiders to refer to anyone who was from the great [u]unknown[/i] that lay beyond their territory. The Mercenary listened closely to the lessons Brocade took her through, the deep rumblings of his voice more often than not sending her to sleep pillowed against his chest.

Adelia watched her as often as she could, traipsing her way silently through the living area of their cabin with eyes that were always judgemental and cool.

Etoile had come to Salsola with very few personal belongings - the items that she had stolen from Brocade were always within close range - and as she walked the items bounced against her hip in a small leather bag. Having less would make it so much easier for when she was ready to disappear. The thought had her smiling softly as she pushed open the door to one of Salsolas large storage rooms.

It was a shack that Brocade had pointed to once before, explaining that Helena took care of the rooms and the items contained inside.

Etoile stood for a moment to survey the organized stacks of fabric and dried goods - her expression vaguely curious.

She wasn't sure what she was searching for, but she began to move some of the boxes about, one ears turned towards the door. She hummed softly to herself as she went, drumming her fingers over a set of glass vials.

Open !!

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Amanda
Luperci

POSTED: Sun Jun 17, 2018 10:30 pm

Helena Troy Lykoi

Italics denote french

She encouraged fervency within them as they grew into confident Salsolan scions. They would have a belonging and loyalty to this hallowed ground that would in turn cement her own place. They were tiny versions of herself and this she coveted most of all. She did understand that they would become their own people but inside them she could see her legacy. Her sharp-toothed smiles as she watched them play together where somewhat frightening at times.

At least daily she would make the journey to the storage shed and take count of things people had borrowed. Usually paper counts would be left for her of how much taken and what traded for or introduced. None would be allowed to steal from the wealth of Salsola without giving back at least what they had taken, if not more so.

The door was ajar and Helena's ire was raised again. If those raccoons had come back, this time she would skewer them. The black dog-slave, Phobos growled from behind her and she shushed him with a motion of her hand.

It was not raccoons though, but another Salsolan that rummaged within Salsola's wares.

"'Allo." She spoke brusquely and looked contemplatively over the darker female. As an Arbiter of Salsola Helena stood above all but the most trusted and rewarded of their Family, this gave her freer power to reign,

"Etoile yes?? Brocade's friend. Can I 'elp you with anyzhing?" Her eyes slipped over the shelves of collected items, scanning to see if anything were out of place, or missing before snapping back to Etoile.

Feel the heat of my breath
Hear the furnace in my chest
Helena Troy Lykoi

Salsola
The Quartermaster
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Jace
Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till

POSTED: Tue Jul 03, 2018 11:17 pm

Salsola was a wealthy pack – this much she knew. Brocade and Elphaba had demonstrated this on more than one occasion – though the pack threw its everything in its elaborate Last Supper, an event that brought the group together over wine and drink. Etoile watched other members closely, assessed the tradition that lay behind each movement, each dalliance.

There was much she still did not fully understand.

She tossed aside a thick roll of fabric, propping it against her leg as she dug deeper into the boxes. There was layer upon layer of dried goods, glass and metal stacked neatly in rows.

Etoile made a sound in her throat, rumbling deeply as the sound of a voice rippled through the open doorway. The French accent was soothingly familiar, a sound that came straight from her homeland – though she straightened, brushing dust from her shoulders as she took in the long-nosed woman that pulled open the door.

Sunlight broke into the shed, lighting the piled items in gold.

”Bonjour,” She offered with a smile, ”Yes that is me.”

She blinked slowly, ”I was just looking for something.”

Sorry for slow!

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Amanda
Luperci

POSTED: Sun Jul 08, 2018 2:50 am

Helena Troy Lykoi

Italics denote french

A wariness of strangers was an inherent thing within all of those born to the Thistle Kingdom's grasping vines; And Helena did consider herself born to this place of Pine and Thorns, she had traveled further than most to come and match herself against the great names. They remembered the Tigress Queen who's green fire had built Salsola up high, they would remember her too. The snake that rose to become a dragon.

Behind Helena the black dog shuffled his feet, leaning to peer at the star-speckled newcomer with a heavy slanting look.

Helena pushed open the door wider, allowing more shafts of gold to glean inwards. Her smile was brazen and gracious on her face, the words pouring honey sweet,

"Well zhen, eet is your lucky day, I am zhinking." Her jaw clicked shut briefly although the smile stayed in place, "I am zhe Conserje of Salsola, I keep zhe stocks and storage."

A paler hand reached to push back an errant curl from her face, the papers in her other hand crinkled,

"What are you looking for, ma cherie, I can 'elp you find it if we 'ave it, of course." There was sharpness in her eyes, rounded only by the softness of the sun's light behind her head, as a halo might linger by an angel.

Feel the heat of my breath
Hear the furnace in my chest
Helena Troy Lykoi

Salsola
The Quartermaster
User avatar
Jace
Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till

POSTED: Wed Jul 11, 2018 10:45 pm

She hated every word the woman spoke. Etoile could feel the rage inside of her as the woman leaned on the door of the tiny shed, her bi-colored eyes roving over the star-cheeked Montgomery. Etoile fought the curl that crept into her lips, the violent lashing that her tail wanted to complete – and instead took a breath, turning with all of the composure of a sleek cat as she smiled at Helena Troy Lykoi.

”Conserje?” She lifted her hand out of a teetering box and steading it with her wrist, ”This place has so many term.”

At Camp everyone had been everything – if something was broken you fixed it. If an animal needed watering you watered it. In Salsola every one was something, they were all unique. Every wolf claimed a title and struggled to clamber over one another in their rush to the top. Helena was in charge of stock and trade so it seemed – but Etoile wondered why the stores were open even to strangers.

Etoile hissed softly through her teeth, ”I was looking for a blanket for Brocade –“ She smiled sweetly, ”His cabin is very cold.”

Sorry for slow!

Salsola
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Amanda
Luperci

POSTED: Wed Jul 18, 2018 10:06 pm

Helena Troy Lykoi

Italics denote french 419

Salsola was falseness, it was layers within layers and even more layers. Like an onion, she supposed, it certainly liked to sting the eyes of those unwary to peel back the shell without proper protection. Helena had pulled back as far as she dared for now and it was only short spans of time before she nestled herself on the next layer deeper. Consequently, the desires and wants of a confidant were below her and yet, Helena knew that non entities may rise like stars - proving themselves valuable at the end of it all. The spurn of Outsider was still a geas upon those newly brought into the fold.

There was a tenseness that sprung, leaping like grasshoppers from leaf to leaf. Silken ears were forward, interested and the slanted odd gaze slid over the almost disarray of the storeroom. This was not how it had been left, and most Salsolans had the grace to tidy after themselves lest they should face her wrath. Her tongue curled delicately behind the sharp toothed smile.

"Well zhen, you need not look far..." There was a small pile of blankets surreptitiously placed on one of the lower shelves in an entirely plain view.

Helena slipped about the starry woman and leaned to pick up a heavy wool blanket that had been dyed some pale shade of chalky gray. The blanket was soft against her fingertips, a caress and should be plenty warm for... Broacde's liking.

"Zhis one should be warm enough, ma cherie." Her cheery voice was at odds with her not-quite suspicious eyes.

She pressed the blanket to the other woman's grasp, and now Etoile was between Helena and the door leading out. Outside, the dark dog slave peered nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Helena was talking again, the insouciant tones bouncing about the small space,

"Ef you.. or Brocade.. are needing anyzhing else, you can ask me. I am good at.. finding zhings.' She chuckled lightly, and turned her attention away from the dark woman, to the papers grasped in her grip.

Etoile had her blanket and there was no reason now why she should linger here in Helena's space, and it was undoubtedly Helena's space. The French woman stretched her presence into it as though reclining in an armchair by the fire, filling up all of its cracks and crevasses.

It was a dismissal, her patience to straighten what had been disarrayed was wearing into thinness and a desire to see what, if anything, Etoile had taken.

Feel the heat of my breath
Hear the furnace in my chest
Helena Troy Lykoi

Salsola
The Quartermaster
User avatar
Jace
Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till

POSTED: Mon Jul 23, 2018 1:37 am

Helena was observant, and Etoile could sense the way her eyes narrowed slightly as she surveyed the goods that were piled on all sides of the small shed. In the caravan all of the families goods had been shared amongst whoever came and went - and Etoile had never thought that perhaps Salsola adhered to a different code. It was something that Brocade had not taught her, or if she had the french-woman had decided not to listen.

Her large ears twitched as Helena spoke, and she offered a cheery laugh.

"Oh. Merci." She reached for the blanket and held it carefully against her chest, "I did not see this. Thank you Helena."

It was scratchy and wool against her tunic and she glanced at the flame eyed woman - the long borzoi nose that marked her as a hybrid. "You know, I am good at finding things too." The blanket twisted in her hands, and she adjusted her weight - peering behind the taller woman to see if anyone had followed her.

"Thank you for your help Madam." She sidled past her out into the brightness beyond the tiny shed, "I will be sure to return it once we have no need of it anymore."

Sorry for slow! Last Etoile post ever :(

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Amanda
Luperci

POSTED: Mon Jul 23, 2018 1:00 pm

Helena Troy Lykoi

Italics denote french

She was watching and smiling, smiling, smiling - until the muscles of her jaw might have ached if she wasn't so used to this deception. The star painted femme was gracious in her thanks and soon left Helena to her own devices within the Storage room. Helena stepped to the door and watched with narrowed eyes as the blue-black lady retreated, disappearing into the growth of Salsola. She clicked her tongue thoughtfully, the dog-male came out from his place around the corner and peered after Etoile too.

He said something, in that low, rolling language of his and her eyes snapped to him with hard lines, he cowered away. She blinked, and twisted her fingers together, mind already racing. She hissed on a low exhale.

Turning she went back inside and quick fingers began to fly, straightening the things that had been messed about. The flame eyes roved, searching anything missing but it was too much all for one woman to remember alone and she snapped at the slave man,

"Get zhe book. Write what I tell you." Phobos shuffled through her stack of papers and parchments, he was not as adept at reading and writing as one might expect and apprehension curled in his stomach at the thought of making a mistake. He made a low noise to indicate he was ready, and she barked out the first thing on the list,

"Un, Deux, Trois..." Her fingers dancing over the things that were gathered; And so it ran, weaving out to suck up her time and the sun wheeled through the sky from late morning to late afternoon. With each group of goods accounted for, the tightness between her shoulders grew. Pain pounded in her temples and along her jaw with the fervency she clenched her teeth.

The only missing thing was the blanket. Helena swore in very undignified French, her suspicions still remaining but unconfirmed.

Feel the heat of my breath
Hear the furnace in my chest
Helena Troy Lykoi

Salsola
The Quartermaster
User avatar
Jace
Luperci Conserje, Cocinero Mate to Calla and Till

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