fortune from the grave - 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: fortune from the grave (/showthread.php?tid=18289) |
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- Wintersea - 06-08-2011 Set in Sunflower Sunsets. [html]
table by magic mushroom. - Lockeheed - 06-08-2011 [html] Word Count → 410 :: He'd removed himself from the western borders of Anathema earlier that morning, taking care to remark the boundaries before he left as a simple act of confirming his residence here. The majority of his belongings were tucked away in a secure corner of his chosen cave; he carried on him his special dagger (an item that was hardly ever absent from his person), a few hunting tools such as a string, a skinning knife, and other essentials in the event he stumbled across some game. Locke knew he needed to repay the kindness shown to him somehow, so he had hope to find something adequate during this venture. But the day took him farther and farther from home and with no sign of game, Locke was growing increasingly frustrated. He was not actively searching for any one creature in particular, but he'd at least hoped to chance across something worth his while. And now he was surrounded by a field of towering, vibrant sunflowers; as if they stole the color from the sun itself. The rangy hybrid couldn't find it in himself to stay annoyed for long, and the peaceful beauty of the flowers soothed his disquiet with surprising ease. As he neared the edge of the expanse, he reached up and carefully parted the stalks before stepping out onto a grassy field. A few trees dotted the landscape, though no where near the thick overgrowth he'd experienced in Anathema's outskirts. His ears perked and followed the startled sound of songbirds as they wheeled away from him, leading his gaze to a pale woman seated beneath the boughs of a shade tree. Locke was admittedly surprised to find someone out this far from any discernible pack territories, but he didn't let it get the better of his manners. Even though there was a good distance between them, he could see that she was marked, scarred but altogether common in appearance. A sarong, navy and white, was tied around her waist and her hair was loose down her back. Everything about her seemed... frozen. Cold. It was strange, but probably had a lot to do with her chosen garment. He looked away for the barest of moments before deciding he had nothing better to do. Walking forward, he put on his best smile but maintained a respectful distance. "Fine day, yeah?" He said, one hand resting on his hip as he glanced out over the sunflowers and to the sky beyond. .heraldictxt {font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing:0px; word-spacing:2px; text-align: left; margin:0px 25px;} .heraldictxt p.ooc {font-style:italic; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:12px; text-align:justify; text-indent:0px; padding:0px 5px;} .heraldictxt p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;} .heraldictxt .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold;} .heraldictxt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding:10px 5px;} .heraldictxt b {letter-spacing:1px; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:-.05em;} </style> [/html] - Wintersea - 06-09-2011 [html]
table by magic mushroom. - Lockeheed - 06-09-2011 [html] Word Count → 302 :: When it came to social situations, Locke felt completely out of place. It'd been years since he'd been in the constant company of others, so his prowess when it came to socializing was horrifyingly lacking. He knew how, but it was that flighty instinct present in every feral animal that threatened to overcome him with crippling shyness or apathy. But he knew there was no other way to pick up the broken pieces than to try, and try again. But, he thought as his ears canted towards the female again, if she didn't want him hovering around like an awkward walrus, he hoped she would tell him. He was terrible at guessing games, after all. However his concerns were unfounded as she soon replied, though her tone suggested she had more to bother with than the current weather. As did her appearance. He wanted to ask for sake of slaking his own burning curiosity, but he wasn't a terribly rude individual and as such didn't pressure her further about it. He did keep it in mind in the event their conversation turned sour. It would do neither of them any good for him to be a nosy git. The rangy hybrid turned his own gaze back on her as she voiced her own query, and his brows rose at the offering of her name. Wintersea. An almost simple name, but with a hint of exotic charm. He bent down into a comfortable crouch, balancing most of his weight on his toes, and nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Wintersea. I'm Locke." He was silent for a beat before motioning to the bandages with an pointed finger. "Get into a scrape with a bad crowd?" Because, honestly, getting into a tussle was far more exciting than falling out of a tree or something. .heraldictxt {font-family:'times new roman', times, serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing:0px; word-spacing:2px; text-align: left; margin:0px 25px;} .heraldictxt p.ooc {font-style:italic; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:12px; text-align:justify; text-indent:0px; padding:0px 5px;} .heraldictxt p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;} .heraldictxt .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold;} .heraldictxt p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding:10px 5px;} .heraldictxt b {letter-spacing:1px; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:-.05em;} </style> [/html] - Wintersea - 06-09-2011 [html]
table by magic mushroom. |