We all look up at the same sun - 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: We all look up at the same sun (/showthread.php?tid=23299) |
- Swentzle Byström - 12-12-2011 [html] Oh look at that, a thread that's correctly dated for once! Derp. Word Count → 263 Swentzle walked slowly down the path he'd found in the woods, headed toward the mountains. Thus far it had not taken him too near any packlands, for which he was glad; after his encounter with Wolfgang of Inferni, he'd been somewhat afraid for his own well-being while staying in the Dampwoods, a feeling which was only amplified with the injured Irinei now in his company. Irinei himself didn't seem to mind that he'd been forced into such an odd group; he remained mostly quiet, laying in the back of the wagon with his legs stretched out in front of him and his back propped up against a sack of chile. Swentzle had made sure he wasn't leaning against any delicate herbs that couldn't afford to be crushed; so long as he didn't rub any of the chile on his wounds, Irinei was fine where he was. The blonde man, himself, was in a bit of a pickle. He didn't quite understand what had happened--the whole night was fuzzy, to him, and he'd been unconscious for days afterward--but he'd come to the understanding that he was indebted to the blind wolf-dog, as well as to another, who had yet to call in their favors. But Irinei was not one to remain indebted; he would heal, and accumulate what he owed, and then--well, then he would begin to pay it off. It was only right, after all, that he help out the less fortunate than he. Though, when he thought about it, he and...Swentzle...were in the same boat. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Leon Hughes - 12-12-2011 [html] http://i776.photobucket.com/albums/yy46 ... ontab1.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> </style>
It was only the next day when Leon set out to find Swentzle again, leaving Trigger to his own devices at their densite back in Ethereal Eclipse. He knew to keep out of sight, and he had plenty there now to keep him busy. He'd probably gnaw on some of the dried meat Swentz gave them the day before and sleep in the comfy wool blanket and moose fur. It didn't take long for the older male to catch up to the little traveling caravan; he spotted his religious friend walking alongside his freaky big bison, and in the back of the cart he spied Irinei, who appeared conscious and better than he had been the day before.
Leon speaks - Swentzle Byström - 12-12-2011 [html] occ here Word Count → 236 Swentzle had expected the journey to be a quiet one, so he was somewhat surprised when the young Leon came up beside him. Turning to look at him through half-glazed eyes, he smiled and gave a jovial nod of his head, more focused on guiding Hamza than anything else. "Yes, Ichika No Ho-En." He reminded the boy, and then had to turn his attention to Hamza as the bison bellowed and attempted to drop to the floor. A sharp knock to the head with his staff confused the poor beast enough to allow Swentzle to nudge him carefully along once more, and he was only half paying attention when Leon asked after his "pet." "Which one would that be?" His voice was distracted, but Irinei heard and understood perfectly, growling low in his throat and shouting over the side of the cart, "Come say that to my face, pip-squeak!" Swentzle turned to look at him, half-hanging out of the cart, and frowned before reaching back and knocking him in the head, too, his voice stern. "I've not tended your injuries these past days only for you to open them the first chance you get. And mind your manners," He added as an after-thought, "The boy didn't mean you." Irinei slumped back into the wagon, rubbing the sore spot on his skull, and grumbled under his breath about the impertinence of youth. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Leon Hughes - 12-12-2011 [html] http://i776.photobucket.com/albums/yy46 ... ontab1.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> </style>
Right, that pack. Leon noted the name in his mind again, but he knew he'd forget again. He watched with intrigue how Swentz convinced his bison to continue by using that staff of his, and then smirked a huge, cocky smirk back at Iri's response. His smirk only seemed to grow when the same staff was used to put him in his place. Leon didn't want to get smacked in the head himself, so he hung back and moved closer to the cart to peer at Iri, his expression still arrogant. "Got a bit of a temper, eh, Pet?" he asked in a taunting tone, taking up the challenge of getting further under the mutt's skin. He spoke just loud enough for Iri to hear, but he didn't risk saying it boldly loud in front of Swentz. His silver eyes watched carefully for any quick movements of the religious man, weary of getting put in his place, too, in case he was heard harassing the man's ward.
Leon speaks - Swentzle Byström - 12-12-2011 [html] occ here Word Count → 247 Iri snarled as the little brat came up beside him and began pestering him again, and rolled over to peer over the wall of the wagon, his ears pressed back against his head as he glared with all his might at the younger male. He saw the way the gray boy watched Swentzle's back, though, and gave his own cocky smirk, sitting back against the sack and crossing his arms over his injured ribs. "Swentzle, I'm trying to rest!" He protested immediately after the boy spoke again, and hid a grin as Swentzle turned to look at Leon with a small frown. "You shouldn't pester the injured, my friend. He needs to store his energy for healing." Swentzle scolded, and waved an arm to gesture the young man up away from the cart again. He didn't know what was going on; Leon hadn't struck him as particularly antagonistic the last time they'd met. But if it continued, he'd have to ask the man to leave, and as Irinei was not the best company, and he didn't particularly enjoy shouting over his shoulder in conversation, he rather hoped he wouldn't have to do that. Irinei, himself, began plotting revenge, and searched about the wagon for anything that might be safely chucked at the small boy's head. There was nothing in there that was his, though, and he didn't feel comfortable throwing things of Swentzle's, so he settled for crossing his arms and completely ignoring the gray-scale boy. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Leon Hughes - 12-12-2011 [html] http://i776.photobucket.com/albums/yy46 ... ontab1.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> </style>
Oh, so Iri could be an immature brat too, huh? Leon scoffed, for a moment ignored Swentzle beckoning him to move forward. He daringly hopped up onto the side of the cart, reached in and smacked the back of Iri's head with his hand before he was off the cart and came up by Swentzle just as he'd gestured for him to do. "He didn't wanna rest a moment ago, y'know. Yer friend is a bit of a brat," he commented with a shrug of his shoulders, acting casually. "'Er maybe he's jealous, 'er somethin'." He turned to look back at the cart with an expressionless face, just waiting for him to say something stupid. He wanted Swentz to smack him with his staff again.
Leon speaks - Swentzle Byström - 12-13-2011 [html] occ here Word Count → 442 Irinei yelped slightly as he was hit, and then lunged over the side of the cart after Leon as he leapt away, leaning back quickly before Swentzle saw him "attempting to re-injure himself" but mumbling angry death-threats under his breath as he did. Luckily, Leon spoke at that moment, so Swentzle didn't hear a thing. Swentzle's lips twitched slightly as Leon ratted Irinei out, shaking his head and trying not to get caught in the middle of it. He was not Leon's father, and he was not old enough to be Irinei's; but their childish ways seemed to enroll him in a more parental role than he'd ever expected. He could only feel remorse for the fact that raising Shevon had not taught him to expect this; but then, she'd been only of the age three months when he last saw her, and female, at that. He could hope this was a 'guy' thing--and that he would have only daughters for the rest of his life. In answer to Leon's complaint, Swentzle adopted a dry tone and told him, "It comes with youth, I'm afraid. He'll grow out of it, I'm sure." And gave a look to the gray male that said clearly, "As I hope you will." Irinei, listening to their conversation and missing the look completely, huffed and crossed his arms, then winced as he elbowed himself in the ribs, attempting to relax again and stop causing himself pain. At Leon's "jealous" comment, Irinei gave a harsh laugh, muttering something along the lines of, "As if," under his breath, and turned his face away. Swentzle sighed, running his fingers over his eyes and murmuring condolences to himself about having to deal with two children who really should have been old enough to know better, before turning his attention back to Leon. "Ah, I cannot think of anything that I need at this moment." He said thoughtfully, but as this was the second--or was it third?--time Leon had come to him seeking to aide, he paused a moment to think about it. As he did so, the hand that had been guiding Hamza came up to rub at his throat, and after a moment he could think of nothing but the sorting he still needed done in the bags in the wagon. "I don't suppose you know the differences between herbs? Or perhaps that you are any good at grinding things into powder?" He needed more of his cinnamon-Chile incense slash spice, but seeing as the Chile was still in its whole form and the cinnamon in sticks, they'd need to be ground up first. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Leon Hughes - 12-13-2011 [html] http://i776.photobucket.com/albums/yy46 ... ontab1.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> </style>
He was more than pleased with getting away unscathed from smacking that twerp, but he wasn't happy with Swentzle's reply. "I'm only immature t'fight fire with fire," he said more to Iri than giving Swentz an excuse as to why he was being childish too. That was also in his nature, but he couldn't wait to kick Iri's ass. He wasn't to do that more than anything right now... too bad he was crippled, and he had the poor older male looking after his stupid ass. The man then said he couldn't think of anything for him to do and Leon frowned, looking at the shorter man(thank god he was so short. He was tiny for a guy, Leon thought, amused), but after another contemplative moment, he managed to come up with something even though it was something Leon couldn't do. He never cooked or dealt with herbs; they always came into the household prepared in bottles, crushed or powdered for them. Mom knew much more about herbs.
Leon speaks - Swentzle Byström - 12-13-2011 [html] occ here Word Count → 296 Irinei's ear swiveled toward the front of the cart as Leon spoke, and he made a high-pitched mimicking sound that sounded more like a series of whines than anything, screwing his face up in what he hoped was the dumbest expression in the world in order to best portray Leon. Then he collapsed back into his scowling and grumbling, thinking if only thoughts along the lines of getting out of the cart and kicking the impertinent brat's ass. He hadn't done anything to start this war, so if anything he was the one fighting fire with fire. Stupid kid, coming along and ruining a perfectly peaceful ride... Swentzle barely contained a heavy sigh as the battle of immaturity continued, wishing Citlali or Fovea were around to provide him some actual company, but Citlali had disappeared the night before and Fovea was off hunting. Running a hand over his face to calm the well of helplessness that rose up inside him, he flicked an ear at Leon's response to his question and raised a sardonic brow at the sarcastic edge in the boy's voice. "Well, if it's too simple a task for you, I can of course do it myself." His voice was dry, and he kept an easy look on his face, giving away none of the thoughts he had on both of the younger males at that moment. Really, he was getting rather sick of back-talk; Irinei was supposed to be resting, and if their little war didn't end soon, Swentzle would make real use of Leon and send him out hunting with Fovea, and then knock Irinei out cold with as many numbing herbs as possible. And maybe a few sharp knocks on the head. But he didn't want to get violent. Table by Aly, code by the Mentors! <style>.swentzle-fieldsofgold { background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/kmHKk.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:bottom center; background-color:#93d7fa; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:10px 0px 300px 0px; color:#555555; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; outline:1px solid #000000;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold b {color:#FFFFFF; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; } .swentzle-fieldsofgold .name { font-size:45px; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; text-transform:uppercase; text-align:right; margin:0px 45px 15px 0px; color:#FFFFFF; text-shadow:#000000 2px 2px 1px; } p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} .swentzle-fieldsofgold .wordcount {color:#555555; letter-spacing:0px; font-size:11px; font-weight:bold; border-top:1px dotted #8c8c8c; text-align:right; padding:0px 5px; text-transform:uppercase; margin:0px 15px 15px 15px;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;} </style> [/html] - Leon Hughes - 12-15-2011 [html] http://i776.photobucket.com/albums/yy46 ... ontab1.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> </style> Leon frowned somewhat, letting out a little sigh at Swentzle. "I didn't say that, did I?" he asked turning his gaze back to the blind man. "You just implied I couldn't crush shit." He gave a little shrug at the subject, looking forward. His tone wasn't sarcastic or anything now either, since Swentz, for once, picked up the sarcasm in that, even though there'd been little in that compared to his taunts at Iri. "Which ones do I gotta help with?" Just a simple description of the ones he needed to crush, where to get the stuff to crush it in and with and he'd be good to go. Too bad he had to get in the cart with Swent's immature little pet. Irinei had a long reach since he was so much taller than Leon and could easily smack him if he had the mind to when both were in the cart.
Leon speaks - Swentzle Byström - 12-16-2011 Word Count :: 210 [html] Swentzle Byström
Swentzle had done no such thing, but he let the younger male off easy, going over in his mind what there was that needed to be powdered. The cinnamon sticks, he knew, needed to be crushed several times over before they could be powdered; that seemed simple enough for Leon. There was also the dried Chile, but as Irinei was using those bags as a chair he didn't want to let the boy in there. Nodding quietly to himself, he pulled up a mental map of the inside of the cart and relayed his instructions.
There's cinnamon sticks in a long bag toward the back of the wagon. You'll need to break them into small pieces before you can powder them, and it'll require the mortar and pestle, which are in a small bag along with my Awk and a few personal belongings. He instructed, and then blinked as Leon ran into him from the side between himself and Hamza, having not expected the male to be there. He chuckled, however, and patted Hamza's shoulder. It's quite alright, Leon, Hamza isn't dangerous. He soothed, and moved a bit so that, if the boy wanted, he could pet the bison before he headed to the cart to do his assigned job. "You will find that life's a climb that takes a steady grip,
and when you're fingers ache remember you were born for this". template by revo. <3
[/html] - Leon Hughes - 12-26-2011 [html] http://i776.photobucket.com/albums/yy46 ... ontab1.png); background-position: top center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> </style> OOC: Gonna stick a quickie fade ending. <3
Leon speaks |