sell me SANCTUARY - Printable Version +- 'Souls IPB Archive (November 2007–October 2012) (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb) +-- Forum: Dead IC (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=110) +--- Forum: Dead Topics (https://soulsrpg.com/ipb/forumdisplay.php?fid=21) +--- Thread: sell me SANCTUARY (/showthread.php?tid=10397) |
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- Jefferson Soul - 04-12-2010 [html] Dawali, Ember, and Geneva (I think). Continued from here (thus dated April 11). He was scared. Just as he had never stopped moving, neither did the pounding of his heart against his chest. Still she was losing blood, still she was gagging and choking on shallow breaths. There had been no alarm made to Phoenix Valley, no calls sent desperately over the pack lands for help; they would only be a liability to him, and he couldn't risk being weighed down or slowed. Never before had Jefferson seen his packmates as such -- but never before had he been so scared, so terrified. He couldn't risk stopping for those who wouldn't know what to do. In his mad rush with her in his arms, Jefferson had bolted to the central ranch house where the two had spent so many nights, so many afternoons. He leapt the fence and dashed past the now-soggy haystack -- where she'd pinned him down once and teased him, he remembered so clearly -- and escaped the rain for mere seconds as he yanked a horse from the stable. What was its name? The cyclops couldn't remember. He didn't care to remember, he just needed it to run. Jefferson was never much of a horseback rider, but for now he would have to make do. AniWaya was far, but it was his only hope. It was the only place he felt safe enough to go. The stallion neighed and bucked its arguments at first, but with desperate coaxing, quickly submitted. Riding on its back was bumpy, far more animated than the brute's two-legged run; he could only hold Geneva close to try and keep her still. He bent over her, scarred arm cradling her tight to his chest, his other hand clumped in the stallion's mane. It was one of the AniWayan horses they'd been housing for the tribe, he realized -- it probably knew its way home. Still no words were exchanged between they, the girl juggling consciousness. His scarred features were locked, stiff like cement; his eyes were both open still, off-white torn eye sightless while its electric green partner stared out into the heavy rain. The terrain was difficult, and the journey was far; every second that passed by felt like an eternity, and as the afternoon stretched on, Jefferson realized how terribly time wished to work against him. He would haste the horse faster, but it was no use. AniWaya arrived for him when it did, and he did not stop at their borders. Towards the town square he went, what he thought to have been in the best direction. Unstopping, he released a tragic cry into the sky, alerting for Dawali or Ember or whomever could help him. Someone. Anyone. Hurry. .airplanes b {font-weight:bold; color:#827165; letter-spacing:1px;} .ooctext {font-style:italic; color:#95A0A9; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;} .airplanes p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .airplanes {margin:0 auto; width:399px; background-color:#EBF1F6; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... etable.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #49361E; padding: 0px 0px 110px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#95A0A9; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - Geneva Stockholm - 04-12-2010 [html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... geneva.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> Bit by bit, Geneva realized that she was moving, although she was not certain where. She would have been frightened, except for the glimpses she caught of a scarred shoulder. Sometimes, when the quick, strong movements jostled her head back, she could hold on to awareness for a few precious seconds to follow the thick, raised ridges of scar tissue up his shoulder to glimpse his face. Two eyes, no longer twins, looked ahead; the face they sat in was twisted into an alien expression that was not at home with those features. At times she was plunged into peaceful darkness, only to be awakened by the sharp teeth of pain around her face, shoulder, and collar bone. Most of the time, when she was with him, she blinked by uncertain. Half of her vision was awash in imperfect gloom, edges of pain making shadows sharp and other things soft and undistinguishable. The gloom of the rain engulfed her, a cacophony of confusing sound that did not mix well with the harsh sounds of his breath and the constant thunder of clicking hooves. She did not have time to form thoughts that that did not involve her immediate surroundings during those few, fleeting seconds of clarity before darkness swallowed her again. But when she was able to grasp awareness, to think beyond the chokehold of pain and the swirl of speed that brought the sick edge of disorientation, she knew that she was with Jefferson. Speech was useless, a tool lost to her. When she tried to speak his name, she choked on the pain accompanied by trying to use her bottom jaw, which hung at a peculiar angle against her face, loose and jangling when the movements jarred her and lifted the parts of her body that Jefferson could not hold secure. Jefferson’s arm around her kept the shoulder with the most distance from him securely in place. She tried to move her fingers and found that they would not obey. She whined, hissed, and choked against the pain when she tried to find a way to communicate with him. During one of those precious moments of conscious clarity, she flexed her knuckles hard against him, where her hand was trapped between her body and his own. And when the thundering motion of the horse finally stopped, it jolted her body in a wave of outrageous pain. When blackness came this time, she succumbed to it willingly, sinking down into an endless sea. - Dawali Amara - 04-12-2010 [html]
- Ember Phoenix - 04-12-2010 [html]
She was on Bayard and making her way to the area that she had heard the howl in a matter of minutes. The horse seemed to sense the urgency in her voice as she rode, mumbling to herself. There must have been an attack. What had Phoenix Valley ever done to anyone? The dark wolf came upon the scene in a flurry of hooves, her appaloosa skidding to a halt a few yards away from the trio. Something was wrong..the air smelled deeply of blood..and Jefferson was supporting something. Or someone. She swallowed hard and dismounted, coming nearer to try and see what was going on. .ember2 b {font-weight:bold; color:#6F63BA; letter-spacing:1px;} .ember2ooc {font-style:italic; color:#6F63BA; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;} .ember2 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .ember2 {margin:0 auto; width:394px; background-color:#E9D7CE; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... ember3.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #6B2474; padding: 0px 0px 235px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#BB75A2; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Jefferson Soul - 04-12-2010 [html] That's good by me! Oh and by the way, her injuries are a broken jaw, collarbone, shoulder, two ribs, a shattered cheek bone, and the obvious cuts and scratches. Yuck. Into the village the horse carried them, it seemed to know exactly where to go. The second his call finished, his green eye flashed from place to place, seeking any and all signs of life. They had to be close, their tribe was centered around that village; and that knowledge, the knowledge he'd gained so recently, paid off. The familiar bright red streak he knew as Dawali filtered through the rain and into view soon enough, and at that second he halted the horse and slipped off in one clean movement. Feet and body tingling from all the repeated, bumpy movement, the cyclops dropped down to a knee immediately upon touching the ground, still cradling the poor girl in his arms. His eyes, both open and desperate regardless of their capability of vision, pleaded up at his friend. "H-Help," he choked, instinctively loosening his hold on her enough for the red wolf to see. Despite the rain, the brute's front was coated in the blood that the rain had been unable to reach due to his tight embrace; her face was damaged, her arm hung limply, and her collarbone poked out in an odd, disturbing fashion. Jefferson looked down at her quickly, just long enough to verify she had not fallen apart into scattered pieces, and then turned his devastated eyes past the Kalona, watching the black-furred woman he was so fond of arrive and hasten towards them both. There was no time for greetings. He looked down at her again, shaking his head. "I-I didn't know where else to go. I found her near our Quarry, on the ground. I-I don't know how long she was there. She's barely breathing. I think her jaw and shoulder are broken, I don't know what else. I-I don't know what to do..." Swallowing the lump in his throat, his eyes shot up once more. "Please, I-I didn't know where else to go. Please." .airplanes b {font-weight:bold; color:#827165; letter-spacing:1px;} .ooctext {font-style:italic; color:#95A0A9; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;} .airplanes p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .airplanes {margin:0 auto; width:399px; background-color:#EBF1F6; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... etable.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #49361E; padding: 0px 0px 110px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#95A0A9; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - Geneva Stockholm - 04-13-2010 [html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... geneva.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> The plane she existed on was constant and powerful as the sea, but it changed from moment to moment. It changed like the face of the water, a strange phenomenon that she could not dwell on. It was beyond her capabilities now. Her eyes remained shut loosely against her will. And try thought she might, she was unable to break the surface of the dark water that held her mind captive. - Dawali Amara - 04-13-2010 [html]
- Ember Phoenix - 04-13-2010 [html]
.ember2 b {font-weight:bold; color:#6F63BA; letter-spacing:1px;} .ember2ooc {font-style:italic; color:#6F63BA; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;} .ember2 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .ember2 {margin:0 auto; width:394px; background-color:#E9D7CE; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... ember3.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #6B2474; padding: 0px 0px 235px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#BB75A2; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Jefferson Soul - 04-13-2010 [html] Dawali didn't speak, but the concern and dread weighed at his features. When he was prompted, Jefferson scooped the limp girl back up and returned to his feet, once again cradling her head helplessly close. Dawali turned and led them; Jefferson lagged behind the two AniWayan leaders and whispered quietly into her ear that everything would be okay. Soundlessly he was told to put her on the ground, and he obediently obeyed. Jefferson slipped his hands away from her for the first time in what seemed like ages; his fingers and arms ached as the weight was finally released from them. Again standing, Jefferson backed away as Dawali began his work, poking here and there and making all the appropriate faces at his findings. The cyclops, useless, gripped at his scarred and pounding arm, and once again closed his sightless eye. Relief washed over him, and suddenly Jefferson felt so tired, so weary, like he was waking up still drowsy from a nightmare. He exhaled a long, thankful breath at Dawali's words, relieved both to hear the news and the sound of another voice. What humming there had been had not reached his tattered, worn ears: Too much thoughts were spiraling in his mind for it to have broken through. "Do what you can," he offered, then turned his ears for Ember. Before he could even nod his thanks, she was whisked away promptly at Dawali's demand and returned shortly thereafter. All that they were doing, even in just their preparations, were completely foreign to him. He knew nothing of medicine or healing and had been lucky to identify the few broken bones he had. His interest didn't lie with the medicine, however, but with her status and their progress. "Thank you both," he said finally, having moved to sit on the ground out of the way. Green glowed from his eye, wide and alert, and watched their every move. His back leaned forward at attention, ready to jump to his feet to assist whenever prompted. .airplanes b {font-weight:bold; color:#827165; letter-spacing:1px;} .ooctext {font-style:italic; color:#95A0A9; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;} .airplanes p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .airplanes {margin:0 auto; width:399px; background-color:#EBF1F6; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... etable.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #49361E; padding: 0px 0px 110px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#95A0A9; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - Geneva Stockholm - 04-13-2010 [html] http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... geneva.png); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> It was strange now, to exist in this plane between consciousness and unconsciousness. Instinctually, Geneva knew that she had been hurt. She tried to search her memory to find out way, but she could not access that information now. The present consumed her awareness, seeming to be one great mystery that encompassed her every sense and thought. For now, it was impossible to know what had happened, because she was not all together certain what was going on now. She was puzzled, but she did not feel the razor edge of panic anymore. She was conscious of the fact that she had stopped moving at such a frantic, strong pace. Now she was prone and static. Without the constant motion to scramble her thoughts and add to her disorientation, she was better able to think more. Jefferson. She was almost certain that she hadn't dreamed him up. Her fingers, lying on the ground, flexed as she thought his name. She could not speak his name, could not command herself to open her eyes to see, but her fingers made small, jerking movements every few moments as she tried in vain to reach for him. It was the most she could do, she realized forlornly. She could barely keep awake enough to fuel her efforts. But when awareness came to her, his voice repeated in her mind like a litany. Jefferson. Jefferson. Jefferson. He had been there. And he had to be here now, somewhere nearby, whatever had happened. She clung to the only thing she knew to be true. Pain, now her companion, sank into her bones and radiated, but it lessened as something touched different places on her body. A strange, humming sound reached her, and her brows furrowed faintly as she wondered about it. The voice behind the wordless tune was almost familiar, almost, but not familiar enough to penetrate the dense cloud of confusion and pain. Only one word, one name, had fought its way through. Jefferson. Secure in the knowledge, or in the fever dream, that he had to be nearby, she continued to curl her fingers when she could find the strength. - Dawali Amara - 04-15-2010 [html]
- Ember Phoenix - 04-15-2010 [html] It is indeed quick
.ember1 b {font-weight:bold; color:#990000; letter-spacing:1px;} .ember1ooc {font-style:italic; color:#990000; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;} .ember1 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .ember1 {margin:0 auto; width:415px; background-color:#8D4794; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... ember1.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #09000B; padding: 0px 0px 170px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#2D0531; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Jefferson Soul - 04-19-2010 [html] Whoops, I blanked. Sorry! / At Dawali's words, the cyclops' tattered ears flicked forward to attention. Although the Kalona did not go into detail, the tension in his voice--something Jefferson picked up on only through knowing the red wolf well--spoke wonders about how the procedure would go. Green eye dwindled on the grey-furred girl and her battered body; from the distance he could no longer hear her shallow, desperate breaths, but the quick rise and drop of her chest proved her condition had not changed. Was she still filtering in and out of consciousness? Would she be lucky enough for the cold, dark numbness of unconsciousness to claim her before Dawali had to begin working? He frowned. She would probably feel every pry, every poke. She might hear the snaps and pops. He cringed at the thought of hearing her cry out in pain and being incapable of soothing it. Ultimately, Jefferson only nodded his agreement and kept quiet, unable to bring himself to say much of anything else. Ember brought up a good question, however, and Jefferson glanced quickly at Dawali for an answer. He would fetch it if it was needed. .airplanes b {font-weight:bold; color:#827165; letter-spacing:1px;} .ooctext {font-style:italic; color:#95A0A9; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;} .airplanes p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .airplanes {margin:0 auto; width:399px; background-color:#EBF1F6; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... etable.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #49361E; padding: 0px 0px 110px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#95A0A9; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - Geneva Stockholm - 04-19-2010 [html] Geneva lay still in the dark. There was nothing more that she could do. The rhythm of the hummed melody scattered her panic-edged thoughts. In moments of lucidity, she was able to come to terms with the fact that whatever was going on around her and to her was outside of her control. She held the knowledge - and hoped that she had not dreamed - that Jefferson was somewhere nearby. It did much to dissipate her fear, although she could recognize nothing of his voice in the sounds that sometimes were able to break through the barrier of gauzy dark and into her mind. And she had little strength left now to combat the oppressive weight of weariness, bone deep, a companion of the pain that penetrated different points on her body. At times the pain was worse, coming with a pressure. But those moments were fleeting as anything else. Floating in the dark, she was a creature of instinct. When she had the strength to do so, she quailed against those foreign touches, flinching and uttering sounds of discomfort.
- Dawali Amara - 04-27-2010 [html]
- Ember Phoenix - 04-28-2010 [html] She did as she was bid. Ember tried to keep all thoughts on Geneva, but her eyes occasionally drifted from the gray woman's face to the chief instead. She watched him as he worked, pale eyes intense. What he was doing was a work of art, his hands making sure and steady movements as he began the healing process. It was a horrifying but beautiful thing. She didn't have much experience with healing beyond the injuries that she had received herself while fighting Hybrid. He'd broken her collarbone and ripped out a large hunk of flesh from her chest, way back when. She pulled firmly with Dawali and both felt and heard the sound of the bone. They were working together to heal her, and Jefferson would have a part in this as well. But what would happen once they were finished? He couldn't carry her back the same way that he had brought her, not without jarring her injuries further. He should be focused on keeping the horse in control. She looked around, considering. Ember and Hemming had been working on a project for weeks now, one that was nearly finished...but would that work? There was a harder dirt trail that led through one part of AniWaya, and if he kept to that then the way would be easier. And she could use pillows and furs from the storage area to cushion Geneva's broken body....yes, it would work. She didn't disrupt the healer or Jefferson, slipping away from the group to get the project. It was a small wooden cart. It was designed to haul wood or objects back from the city and had raised sides. Pieces of wood made a small frame over the top of it, pieces of tanned hide stretching over it to protect the cargo from the rain. They had been about to start to use it themselves. Perhaps once Jefferson got Geneva back to the Valley, she or Hemming could go to retrieve it back, though. She approached the leader's horse and began to start to connect him to the cart, tightening the little straps on the harness and speaking to the beast in low tones. Jefferson could ride the horse and have it pull Geneva behind them. The cart's wheels were well constructed and would hold up. She went to one of the buildings that she had been using for storage, pulling out some of her furs from winter, beginning to line the cart with them. .ember1 b {font-weight:bold; color:#990000; letter-spacing:1px;} .ember1ooc {font-style:italic; color:#990000; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;} .ember1 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .ember1 {margin:0 auto; width:415px; background-color:#8D4794; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... ember1.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #09000B; padding: 0px 0px 170px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#2D0531; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Jefferson Soul - 05-03-2010 [html] I'm assuming the place he can boil the water is in another room, so he went over there. :O He felt drained, emotionally and physically. It was as if his body was melting to the floor and he was unable to stop it, and yet the relaxation of his muscles brought him a mild peace after the chain of frustrating events. He breathed and blinked and stared blankly forward in between the times when his name was said or they spoke in his direction, and Jefferson's mind simply wandered on and on. A thousand questions flew past, but he tried to answer not a one. The Patriarch's head spun and his eye saw nothing for a while, lost in a mist, until Dawali brought him herbs. The directions were pressuring but clear, and Jefferson was up in an instant, off to do what he'd been instructed. Perhaps stepping into a neighboring room was best. He didn't want to see that agony, even though he was certain the sounds would not be omitted. A chill slid down his spine and he shivered; the herbs were hastily dumped into a pot, doused in water, and put to fire atop the stove. As always, the bubbles did not form immediately, and Jefferson found himself staring listlessly into the water there, watching the still water, the floating herbs, the fire underneath, and yet he saw none of them. He was lost in a mist yet again, thoughts buzzing, limbs heavy. .airplanes b {font-weight:bold; color:#827165; letter-spacing:1px;} .ooctext {font-style:italic; color:#95A0A9; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:9px; text-align: right;} .airplanes p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .airplanes {margin:0 auto; width:399px; background-color:#EBF1F6; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... etable.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #49361E; padding: 0px 0px 110px 0px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#95A0A9; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style>[/html] - Geneva Stockholm - 05-15-2010 [html] There was a rushing in her ears, and all at once she started awake. Her limbs jerked reflexively and she took in a big gulp of air. Her mind was shrouded by the veil of pain and confusion descended, seizing her instantly. She turned her head slightly, hissing as her eyes adjusted to the light. Her surroundings were unfamiliar, and she was vaguely aware of hands on her. She didn't know whether she should struggle or not. With her lime colored eyes out of focus, she searched the room for her touchstone. She could have sworn that he was somewhere nearby. Her mind was a jumble, a tangle of confused thoughts and impressions, but she had been almost certain that he had been there. Her unfocused gaze finally settled upon someone somewhat familiar. Dawali? What's going on? She couldn't make her mouth form around the words. |