bring me peace - 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: bring me peace (/showthread.php?tid=16888) |
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- Krystalle Horzana - 04-12-2011 [html] Afternoon-early evening. Ethereal Eclipse. Ugh. Avoidance of the conversation was causing Krystalle more trouble than she needed. Waking up early, the doggish woman found her way outside and sought her equine friend to make a quick escape. Maybe it wasn't healthy to ride a horse while carrying children, but she couldn't just walk out of the pack. In a fluid movement, she mounted the mare and squeezed her legs against her sides to make her move. Senorita knew what her friend wanted. Four muscled legs started a trot across Thornbury; Krystalle hefted a sigh through her lungs, leaning forward to rest against the neck of her mount. "Ain' sure I like it here no more, Senorita," she mumbled into the stiff mane. All this confusion had left a usually chipper female in a pit of something unidentifiable. Ethereal Eclipse had always caused a shiver to wander the fur of the Horzana. Something about the forest there, thick and nearly lightless, made her so uneasy. It didn't affect her horse well either; Senorita balked more than once, but her keeper kept pushing her on. Reaching the center, Krystalle slipped from the back of the paint-patterned creature. She was dizzy. Her body plopped down on the rather muddy ground, rubbing at pale pink eyes uncomfortably. It was all Mars fault. She wouldn't have been in that situation if he hadn't met her back in California. A grimace crossed her features. "This is stupid." There were ways to get rid of the problem. They'd done it in Nakzhi before, when the mother was deemed unfit. But could she really do something like that? No. She wasn't capable. Instead, her body flopped to the side, eyes staring toward the sky as she lay slumped over onto the ground. .butterfly_08 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .butterfly_08 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .butterfly_08 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .butterfly_08 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/4483/butterfly01.png); background-position:top right; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 20px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Caspa Al-Fateh - 04-13-2011 [html]
- Krystalle Horzana - 04-14-2011 [html] Sulking in the mud, she was surprised to hear the sound of another as they called for a horse. The Latin mutt assumed whoever it was spoke to Senorita; last she had checked, there hadn't been a horse other than her paint-patterned friend. The old mare sniggered and shook her head, turning to face the opposite direction. Krystalle waited a moment, wondering just who had wandered into her little safe haven of the moment, before sitting up to glance around. At first, she didn't see her company. Pale pink eyes searched the trees until they settled upon the slender frame of a white creature. Was it a ghost? Possibly preposterous. Still, it left her uneasy. "Hola?" she called, tilting her head to the side. As graceless as she'd fallen to the ground, the pregnant Luperci dragged herself to her feet. There wasn't sense in meeting anyone, corporeal being or not, on the ground. Crossing her arms above the slightly distended stomach she now possessed, she squinted at the stranger. "Horse has got a name, ch'know? Don' horses you've seen got names?" It wasn't meant to be rude, merely inquisitive. Her flopped ears twitched on top of her head. The sight before her was something truly spectacular; she'd never seen a creature with the same silhouette as the one who stood before her. .butterfly_08 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .butterfly_08 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .butterfly_08 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .butterfly_08 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/4483/butterfly01.png); background-position:top right; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 20px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Caspa Al-Fateh - 04-15-2011 [html]
- Krystalle Horzana - 04-19-2011 [html] Sorry for the wait! Krystalle watched in silence as the strange white creature explained themselves, revealing that they were both sentient and female. The Latin woman gave Senorita a pat to the flank as she listened, and the horse huffed air out before turning her head to the brown-and-cream friend. White-tipped fingers rubbed against the mare's spongy nose. The stranger supposed most of the horses did have names where she was from, but asked how she knew the name of Krystalle's friend. A valid point. She chose not to reply, however, and waited for more information about the strange woman. She wasn't in the mood for any arguments, the irritation at the father of her unborn children causing everything to seem so frustrating, even the simplest misunderstandings. Her hand rubbed against the side of her muzzle, ears still open to the explanations and apologies. Pale pink eyes shifted in the direction of her company. "'s fine, I guess. Just got kinda tired." The mud discolored her tan fur, and she silently wondered why she'd been so eager to sit in it. Perhaps just to sink away into the earth, where she'd never be bothered again. A silly thought. She loved living in the world far too much to flee from it, even if she hated Nova Scotia itself. She sighed and crossed her arms. "We ain' got a place for our horses, but Senorita stays close." Another friendly pat to her companion's rump and Krystalle focused entirely on the white canid. "'m Krystalle; where're you from, huh?" .butterfly_08 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .butterfly_08 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .butterfly_08 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .butterfly_08 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/4483/butterfly01.png); background-position:top right; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 20px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Caspa Al-Fateh - 04-19-2011 [html]
- Krystalle Horzana - 04-21-2011 [html] The stranger, who identified herself as Caspa, pushed the pregnant female to rest; it was a suggestion that Krystalle took eagerly, helping the woman spread her leather coat across the ground before plopping down near it. Pink eyes watched as her flopped ears listened. Caspa of Cour des Miracles, a pack Krystalle was unfamiliar with. The tan female allowed herself to lay back, closing her eyes. It was interesting to have company from someone outside of Cercatori d'Arte — she'd only really met Ehno Marino — and she didn't imagine they would have any animosity when they finally parted ways. Caspa asked about the Latin mutt's own pack, and Krystalle had to pause and think. "'m livin' in Cercatori d'Arte, with my friend." Friend, lover, father of her unborn children — all of those monikers didn't seem right any longer. Mars was Mars, her housemate. In the end, that was all they were. "I ain' never heard of Curr dez Miracles." She tried to smile, though she knew she'd butchered the French-influenced name. Her white-tipped hands rubbed against her face as she tried to focus on something. Her face turned toward the treetops. "Kinda far away from here, over that way." She pointed toward the west; it seemed their packs were on opposing sides of the forest they found themselves in. It was interesting to know about more than just AniWaya and Crimson Dreams. In silence, she hoped the woman would explain more. .butterfly_08 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .butterfly_08 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .butterfly_08 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .butterfly_08 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/4483/butterfly01.png); background-position:top right; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 20px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Caspa Al-Fateh - 04-21-2011 [html]
- Krystalle Horzana - 04-24-2011 [html] Sitting had been a good idea. As soon as her weight was off from her feet, the Latin mutt felt relief. Pregnancy in itself was not something she was familiar with. She'd never been exposed to pregnant women in Nakzhi, only the children as they grew up. It never occurred to her that she might need those experiences later in life, as motherhood had never been on the itinerary. Of course, nothing ever was. Meeting Mars certainly hadn't been, and having to chase him across whatever obnoxious land she'd crossed was far too tedious an outcome that occurred because of it. Now that she was in Nova Scotia, she only wanted to go home. Some days, it didn't matter if Mars followed. She was sick and tired of dealing with the cold air and loneliness. It was hard to make friends. Meeting this stranger seemed to be a way around that. She asked about Krystalle's accent, and the woman smiled faintly as she thought how best to explain. "Kinda grew up speakin' Spanish. 'm not from around here, ch'know?" No, she was from somewhere much warmer. How she missed the desert as she was forced to live through snow and mud. The dry air was so much more preferred than what she lived through lately. As the topic changed to packs, she was more subdued. Cercatori d'Arte had not proved to be the home she'd thought it might have been — so far, all they'd done was fight — and she didn't truly think talking about them was in her best interest. Caspa, however, seemed to enjoy where she was living. Near the sea, with lots of coastline and human settlements. It sounded pleasant. She even smiled, until 'young ones' were mentioned. Pale pink eyes turned to the ground in clear displeasure. "Don' really care if they get born or not." It sounded much more cruel than it was meant to be, but it was truth she couldn't hide. She didn't love the unborn pups she carried. She might have loved their father, but it had not connected to her mind that she should love the children. They didn't truly have a place in her world, with the problems of the man she lived with and her own inability to understand. .butterfly_08 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .butterfly_08 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .butterfly_08 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .butterfly_08 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/4483/butterfly01.png); background-position:top right; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 20px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Caspa Al-Fateh - 04-25-2011 [html]
- Krystalle Horzana - 04-30-2011 [html] Soooo sorry for the wait. She laughed as Caspa asked about her origin. Span? What was Span? Krystalle shook her head, covering her muzzle with one white-and-tan colored hand to try and hide her amusement. "No, 'm from Nakzhi. 'r, uh, whassit called? America?" She knew her geography quite well due to maps, but could never remember the names of specific places. America, Canada, Europe. All those were concepts she knew, but couldn't place unless they were displayed before her. She did know, with certainty, that she was not from Span, however. As the smile continued to plaster her face, she watched the sky from between minute openings in the canopy. Talk of the unborn puppies left her uneasy and quite irate, and though she tried not to take it out on the woman beside her, she found her tone snappish and off-putting. As Caspa spoke, the mutt was surprised to hear the commanding tone that added to her voice. She had to care. She had to. And she needed to make sure she had help. Krystalle scoffed and rolled her eyes. "'ve got help. Kinda. Their dad helps, or he wants to. 's just weird." Both to allow him to help and because they were in the situation to begin with. She loved Mars, oh yes she did, but she had never envisioned herself with a family that included him. Now that it was definite, she wasn't certain she would ever have wanted it to begin with. "Just weird. Makes it hard to wanna do anything." .butterfly_08 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .butterfly_08 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .butterfly_08 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .butterfly_08 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/4483/butterfly01.png); background-position:top right; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 20px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Caspa Al-Fateh - 05-02-2011 OOC: So sorry. All my posts seriously suck at the moment, and I have no idea why XD [html]
- Krystalle Horzana - 05-12-2011 [html] Sorry for the wait on this. My muse has been way dead. Her own silence was hard to ignore by the dark female as she gazed at the thick canopy. Thoughts about Mars were not something she was eager to experience. Thoughts of Mars were not something she wanted to dwell on. Thoughts of Mars were simply not something that could stay in the mind of the mutt. She shook her head quickly to clear it, lowering her eyes to the woman beside her. She was different, unique, interesting. She caught the attention of Krystalle for more than a few reasons, the first being that she seemed to be a hybrid with some sort of odd dog. Her flopped ears wiggled as her eyes studied the white woman. And then Caspa asked a question that made Krystalle tilt her head. Did she like flowers? The Horzana frowned, ever so slightly, and gave a small nod. "Don't everyone like flowers?" Anchjo didn't like flowers, but Anchjo hadn't enjoyed much in life. His daughter was different. She loved everything, and took joy in the world as much as she could. There had never been any reason not to. In fact, there had never been any reason for her father to find such things distasteful. A white-tipped hand rose to rub at one pale pink eye as her gaze dropped back to her lap. Flowers weren't really the most interesting thing to talk about, but she had no other ideas. She sighed. "Never really been around lots of flowers. They didn't grow in the desert, ch'know? Too hot or no water or something stupid." Both or neither, she had been taught that it was their Goddess who allowed the flowers to grow. What bullshit. .butterfly_08 b {font-weight:bold; color:#000000; letter-spacing:1px; } .butterfly_08 .ooc { font-style:italic; padding:0px; font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px;} .butterfly_08 p {text-indent:25px; padding:5px 10px; margin:0px;} .butterfly_08 {margin:0px auto; width:450px; background-color:none; background-image:url(http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/4483/butterfly01.png); background-position:top right; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:none; padding: 20px 0px 10px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#111111; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;} </style> - Caspa Al-Fateh - 05-18-2011 [html]
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