black pearl

POSTED: Sun Sep 16, 2018 9:24 am

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It was the richness of the season that allowed Rhaegar to remain adequately fed, though barely so. In the Outpost, the boy had preferred other activities to hunting. He’d been born into a close-knit society that’d shared their resources and he had wanted for nothing while growing up with his parents and siblings. It'd not occurred to him that he'd be forced to fend for himself so far from home. He’d never known the sharp teeth of hunger until his guardian’s demise, but he could feel each individual rib now if he felt along his side. Any remaining puppy fat was quickly consumed by a body that desired more than it was given.

And he had so much to do.

He’d taken the twin-blade from the body, but he knew not how to wield it. Shadows whispered to him sometimes, speaking of past times and the ways of old terrors. But there was no muscle memory to lead the hand that wielded the weapon, and there was no elegance or finesse when he attempted to swing it. He’d been fuelled by an uncharacteristic fury at this discovery. Technically a child still, his body was weak and needed to be taught. The beast that cradled his soul had no use for him in his current state.

Today, he felt more like himself, and the sunrise didn’t burn quite so bright against his velvet hues. It felt good. The boy’s gaze was downcast however, sweeping low across rocks and dirt and the sickly viridian of the oncoming autum -- his first. His grandfather’s sword weighed him down with every step and his back ached with the experience. It’d never meant to be his, but he’d taken it by force, coerced by something terrible, guiding his reluctant hand with an unyielding grip.

Perhaps that was why it felt like such a terrible burden.

The soldier’s scent was fresh upon the path he followed, like winking dew sprinkled across a meadow, leading the way. His limbs felt heavier with each step, but the boy forced himself into a trot, intent on catching up to the individual he pursued while crisp morning air burned his lungs and turned his breath ragged.

Salsola
The Family (NPC)
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Libri
Luperci
Crown of Love

POSTED: Sun Nov 11, 2018 5:50 pm

The patrol had him scaling a winding path that was edged with gravel and small stones that bit into his feet as he climbed higher and higher. He had left Symre with the horses in Margerrd at her request – lately she had taken a keen interest in the strong looking Stantevit horses that had been left behind in Salvias stead. Brocade was happy for her to have an interest so long as it had her outside the confines of her small dingey room.

His mouth parted as he panted, pushing long greying hair from his face with the back of his hand.

In the distance he could make out the scraggly line of the Halcyon against the sky, its peaks like dragons’ teeth. There had been stories told around the travellers campfires that alluded to such creatures, and Brocade even as a boy had imagined that the mountains that curled around them were the sleeping beasts – waiting for a hero to come and wake them.

The soldier paused atop the rise with his hand resting on the hilt of a blade that lay strapped to his hip. A flock of gulls cried awkwardly as they passed over head, disappearing into a froth of perfect cloud.

When he heard the scrabbling behind him he growled softly, surprised to find the young boy trailing after him.

”Rhaegar,” He greeted, allowing his tail a friendly wag, ”Have you come to join me on patrol?”

He noticed the blade in the boys hand, ”Where did you find that?”

I am so sorry for making you wait so long!!! But here is a reply <3

Salsola
The Inquisitor
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Amanda
Luperci Vedetto, Milite
you forget I have a gypsy heart
listen to the wild

POSTED: Mon Jan 14, 2019 5:10 pm

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Atop a rise, the darkened silhouette of the soldier eventually manifested against the sharp glare of the early morning. The praising sight brightened the swell of anticipation within a forsaken boy’s heaving chest. There and then, Brocade's frame was a representation of a future he craved to carve out for himself, the blade maroon and sticky fresh with the consequences of his means.

There was a sense of pride to have a man of the soldier’s rank to so effortlessly recall his name, young and unproven as the young Salcedo was. The boy felt his spine straighten painfully and he made an attempt to moderate the rhythm of his ragged breath. The Bambino’s white-tipped tail caught up to match the haste of the Valentine’s.

”Good morning, Director,” he greeted, a smile blooming within the handsome lines of his sharp face. He gave a hurried bend of respect, made only slightly wobbly with the high hum of his pulse and quivering muscles. ”I would be honoured to assist you on your patrol!” There was no mistaking the youthful eagerness that came with the boy’s voice, his hungry sunset gaze, sharp.

The man’s attention then moved south, finding the blade and it being in the hand of someone that was not Itachi. A potential mistake. ”Grandfather is out and left it by the door,” he forced a smile, pulling together fragments into a truth of his choosing. ”He won’t be back for a while and I want to learn to use a real sword.”. The boy’s gaze turned softer then, looking up to the adult as if only barely daring to share this secret with the Director. ”You won’t tell, will you? I’ll return it before he even knows it’s gone, I promise!”

Salsola
The Family (NPC)
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Libri
Luperci
Crown of Love

POSTED: Mon Jan 21, 2019 1:32 am

The boy looked just like his father. Rafael Salcedo had been a force to contend with during the onslaught of The Five, his swordsmanship marking him as a man to be watched. Like so many others before him the life of his family had taken him away to the Outpost. It was a safe place to raise children away from the ferocity of The Kingdom proper – and though Hyacinth had chosen to raise her children elsewhere, Brocade felt that it would be his proudest achievement to one day sire children on Salsolas hallowed ground.

Rhaegar swung the little blade in his hands and Brocade grinned crookedly, twitching his tattered ears as he responded. ”I won’t tell as long as you promise not to tell him I helped you with it.” He chuckled and held out his hand, ”Do you mind if I take a look at it?”

It was a fine blade and reminded the man of the dagger that Dirge gave to him before he joined the skirmishes. Brocade believed that it was every sons right to receive their first weapon from their father or in this case Grandfather. There was a magic that grew in that connection, and Dirge had ensured that his sons were well grown and properly taught. The thought had Brocade smiling, for even with his tutelage Weave had still eagerly taken up song-writing and playing on his lute.

It wasn’t so terrible, as song and dance were as much a part of the gypsy tradition as anything else.

The others each had their own things that made them complete – Lace had found fist-fighting, Hyacinth her bow – and then there was sweet and gentle Cleome, his fuchsia eyes eager to create.

He handed the blade back and chuffed as they walked along the path, ”What can you do with it?” His teeth caught his upper lip, ”Can you show me?”

Salsola
The Inquisitor
User avatar
Amanda
Luperci Vedetto, Milite
you forget I have a gypsy heart
listen to the wild

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