[m] Do you ever feel like a plastic bag?

Ragna Eklund

POSTED: Fri Sep 14, 2018 10:00 am

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.
WC (259) :: For my darling Song <3

Hands dragging down his face, he sighed, slipping off the countertop and catching Rami's eye, before waving a hand to indicate that he was going to head out for a bit, snorting as he went, dust irritating his nose, threatening to send him off into another sneezing fit: their home was forever a cesspit of dirt. Each day he cleaned and each day the dirt and dust accumulated all over again.

That wasn't why he was heading out through – no. It was the ever-present noise: voices, banging, life going on around him that had him leaving the depths of the dim store and out onto the streets. Strange that after years of being surrounded by a sanctimonious family that he still struggled to deal with the abundance of noise: most of the time it didn't bother him that much, but out of the blue everything seemed to suddenly snap into focus, becoming impossible to ignore and he just needed a break from it all.

Taking to the silent streets was more than enough to meet his need for solitude and peace – he wouldn't go far, knowing that Shakir was likely to wreak havoc if he wandered too far and too long. Filling his lungs with cleaner air, he exhaled slowly, shaking out stiff muscles and picking up the pace. Amherst was rarely a quiet area and there was usually some form of entertainment to be found and if not, well, stretching his legs had been his intended purpose for leaving in the first place.

Last edited by Kassim Vaziri on Sun Sep 23, 2018 1:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I just want to scream that nothing's what it seems
I'll just keep believing one day I'll be king
Loners
Hybrid
User avatar
Kitty
Luperci If only time would stop in this moment
From a cage I created
To a hell that heaven made

POSTED: Sat Sep 22, 2018 6:40 pm

Optime | Amherst | NPC: Brimstone (+742)

Hope you’re okay with the PP of Kassim wandering into the conversation/situation x3 If not, you know the drill! To be clear, there are two random NPCs that are dressed in fur/hide-like “armor.”

It had been a while since the wolfdog had gone to Amherst. Its location so close to the Thistle Kingdom often made her wary and cautious, particularly given that she had met a war comrade recently whom she found to have been made a prisoner there. Despite the old enemy’s close proximity and the news of Silas’ enslavement though, Ragna had wanted to do a bit of scouting in the area, if for nothing else than to prove to herself that she was not afraid of the pack.

She had rode to the abandoned, human town on her stallion, Brimstone. The horse acted as an extra set of eyes and ears, and would be an easy mode of escape should she need to flee for whatever reason. His hooves sounded rhythmically against the concrete and cobblestone roads as she urged him along, glacier eyes searching for the familiar pathway that was to the local bar within the area. It had been a reliable source of information the last time she had come through the region, and she was curious to see what new gossip was spreading around these parts.

Ragna in her usual state of dress, though, was absent of her long-sleeve shirt due to the warmth that still remained in the land despite the shifting season. Her shemagh wrapped loosely around her shoulders, placing a weight across them that kept her from missing her marten companion that she had left back in the Vale. Her padded, grey vest was worn over her torso, and a pair of loose, saturated-brown pants covered her legs. Her dual knives were strapped to either thigh, and her quiver and bow were perched in their usual positions at her shoulder and on her hip. All in all, it created for a figure of dark and unremarkable colors that could be easily missed amongst the forest foliage, and gave the image of someone capable of fighting when out in the open.

The Eklund continued to scrutinize the vacant streets for something familiar, though, placing what she could remember from a once snow-covered landscape made the effort a bit harder with how maze-like the humans seemed to like their streets. She sniffed at the air, and continued to lead her dark steed onward until an individual suddenly stepped into their path.

It was a larger, wolf-hybrid male. Tall and with a toned upper torso, he looked like he might be a formidable opponent in a brawl. The stranger was decked out in animal hide for clothing; fur from another creature wrapped around his waist like a belt of sorts, and a fluffy chest piece made her wonder if these were supposed to be a substitute for some kind of armor. Bones—though, mostly claws and teeth—of various beasts were worn as decorative jewelry around his neck, waist, and on his biceps. A crude, bone-chiseled axe was held in his hand.

Had the Mistwalker not been a veteran of war, she might have been intimidated by the sight. However, his appearance did little more than annoy her for the delay in her pursuits.

“Move,” she demanded, bringing Brimstone to a halt. The stallion snorted and pawed at the cobblestone as he assessed the perceived threat that stood between them and Ragna’s intended destination.

“Take a different road, missy,” the brute growled defiantly. His yellowed gaze shifted to look over her person, seeming to either consider her or the weapons she bore. “Though, I could be persuaded if you paid a toll.” His gaze slide to something behind her. “Double if you want him to go through with you.”

Ragna’s brows furrowed before she twisted in her saddle, finding another Luperci to, indeed, be behind her. She scowled at the unfamiliar Loner, her glacier eyes shifting from him to another hide-covered Luperci—this one, a coyote-mix—that came out of one of the abandoned buildings. The second fellow wore an outfit similar to the first, though, he held two antler-made knives in either hand. Great, another one.

Twisting back around to glare at the first male that had accosted her, she pointed rudely to the earthen male that had been wrongly assumed to be her companion. “He’s not with me.”

The coyote let out a cruel laugh as he drew closer to the foreign-looking male, knives up and ready to be used. “Are you sure?”

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
Wolverthorne
User avatar
Songbird
Luperci Scout I
Do not go gentle
into that good night

POSTED: Sun Sep 23, 2018 1:38 pm

WC (895) :: No probs -- it is perfect <33 Kass has thin fur + from hotter climates, so 'normal' weather = freezing for him ~~ (And he's just plain melodramatic).

Growing up in a land so hot it was dying, the change of spending autumn in a cooler area was certainly making itself known: logically he’d always known that come winter he and his family would feel the chill painfully so, but he’d assumed he was prepared for the worst the world could throw at him. As usual, his optimism was coming back to kick him in the ass, or more accurately, slam into his face as he turned around a corner, wind hitting him at full force, snapping his hood out and causing the material to flare up before it was pushed free from his face.

Should have stayed at home, Only that wasn’t entirely true. If he’d stayed home he would very likely have ended up grabbing the nearest sharp object and stabbing his brother with it. Probably. Very likely. Almost certainly. Breathe catching in his throat; he froze, the wind whipping around him relentlessly, the once styled strands of his dark hair thrown into utter disarray, the flapping of material echoing all around him, necklaces tugging at his throat.

With clacking teeth and shivers running riot, his arms wrapped around his scrawny waist, shoulders hunching as he braced in the wind, shuffling forward a little before breaking out into a jog to get out of the brunt of the wind. It wasn’t horribly bad, just not something he was used to dealing with and he frankly just had no tolerance for being cold. Rubbing at his arms, ears flicking back and forth in irritation with the howling wind, he took the time to pull up the material of his scarf: softer than his poncho, it was his most indulgent item, offering him layer after layer of warm folds that he could snuggle into as and when needed. Flicking his hood back up again, he glared at the sky, because someone or something had to be blamed for his problems.

Feeling a little more prepared for what was coming his way, he moved back towards wind hell. Poking his head out of the small alley he’d stepped into, the wind instantly caught at the oversized hood, sliding the coarse material off his head again.

Done. He was so done.

Turning back, he scrambled over the debris of concrete, litter, and items he really didn’t want to identify. It was slow going and several times a smell had his face scrunching up in disgust, but eventually, the maze of alleys threw him back out into one of the main streets, a triumph grin upon his maw (an expression on him that could only be described as wrong and twisted). Yet the street he was spat out upon was one that was already occupied; a large male, a thing of horrors that almost made him pee himself a little and a scarred female who was clearly about to become a victim of the brutish monstrosity.

Today he was simply not lucky. Eyes flicking between the hulking figure and the female, bi-coloured eyes finally settled upon the weapon in the male’s grip, determining that the thing covered in the bones and armed was the greater threat, compared to the frail beauty on horseback who had a good chance of simply riding away (his mind notably glossing over the fact the female was armed herself and not in the least bit flustered).

Wiping his hands on the material around his waist, needing to get the grime off his hands before he in anyway dealt with the situation at hand, he finally stepped forward, hoping he could help these two find a civil solution to their issues – the male clearly had not been instructed on how to speak to women, his words foul and inappropriate, which didn’t really come as a surprise but certainly made the situation a little tricky if the guy lacked basic manners.

Paw lifted to take him from the shadows of his ally, his steps faltered as another male appeared, so clearly dressed in a manner like the first he could only deduce they were off a similar origin and thus familiar with each other. A fashion sense like that surely could not be popular, less the people of these lands had such wretched taste – the female’s attire led him to believe that wasn’t the case and there was some hope left for the fashion sensitive types such as him.

“Pffft, they look like they ripped out of their mother’s insides still wearing bits of her. How foul,” amused by his thoughts, it was only as he felt eyes open him that he realized that he’d rather foolishly said the words out loud. Frowning, he pushed his shoulders back, his hackles lifting and tail flicking high as he moved forward, a low growl emitting from his throat as panic began to sink in, his mind going utterly blank.

“To be fair, have you seen what you look like? If coyote there is your friend, I really wouldn’t trust his fashion sense. He’s got none and I’d be more than happy to give you some tips, for a reasonable rate of course,” a grin of all teeth now, he swaggered forward, words dropped in venom and a glint in his eye that just wasn’t right.

“Let’s say you leave the lady here alone and I won’t charge you for informing you how awful you look?”

I just want to scream that nothing's what it seems
I'll just keep believing one day I'll be king
Loners
Hybrid
User avatar
Kitty
Luperci If only time would stop in this moment
From a cage I created
To a hell that heaven made

POSTED: Mon Oct 08, 2018 8:40 pm

NPC: Brimstone (+374)

Sorry for the wait! @____@ Hadn’t felt like writing much lately. Make coyote guy do whatever you want him to!

Before she could snap at the coyote, the rather unique-looking hybrid spoke up, criticizing the barbaric-looking duo’s state of dress. While she agreed to his assessment, his tone and the words themselves were sure to only bring about—

“What was that, you fuckin’ burlap-dressed twig?!”

—aggression and, likely, a fight.

Ragna rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Beneath her, Brimstone shifted his feet, his hooves sounding audibly against the concrete underfoot. The dark stallion seemed to sense her irritation with the situation, or, was just as frustrated with these men as she was. Ragna subtly reached for her bow and an arrow as the two barbarian’s attention were focused on the unaffiliated male. She had a feeling that things were about to get ugly…

The coyote and wolf-hybrid moved in with weapons drawn and angry snarls spreading across their facial features. The stranger moved towards Ragna and her mount, and the Eklund let go of Brimstone’s reins to notch her arrow low at her side. She shifted her dark steed with her knees, angling him so that his and her back were to one of the buildings rather than the wolf barbarian or the other two Luperci males.

The earthen-hued guy took on a dangerous look to him as his stance changed from a mere passerby to one that was more aggressive and bold, and appeared to be of the belief that she needed a hero.

“They only thing I’ll accept is your tongue cut from your fucking mouth,” snarled the wolf-hybrid. He started forward with is axe raised, and, following his companion’s lead, the coyote advanced as well, dual knives ready to be used against the mutt that had insulted and had continued to insult them. The pair of them both gained a bit of speed as they advanced onto their targets. “Kill them—”

“Tch, enough of this.” Ragna took aim and fired a rapid shot.

“—both—ahhhgh! My fucking leg!” The wolf-hybrid screamed as he buckled down to the ground, grabbing his knee that had one of the Eklund’s arrows protruding from it.

Ragna drew another arrow. That’s my charge, take it or leave it.”

Ragna Eklund

Mistfell Vale
Wolverthorne
User avatar
Songbird
Luperci Scout I
Do not go gentle
into that good night

Dead Topics