Skinny Dippin' - 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: Skinny Dippin' (/showthread.php?tid=26936) |
- Dixie-May Jackson - 04-16-2012 [html] <style> @import url(http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family= ... a+Expanded); @import url(http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Graduate);</style> Drift away from all these city lights, Might rock a little bit, So hold on tight. Word Count :: +3! just...yawn. boring post, anyone up for skinning stuff?
The large basket full of dead vermin that Dixie had brought up to the fort earlier had gotten a bit warm inside the court house’s doors. When she approached and smelled the scent coming from it, a soft curse broke from her mouth and she snatched the basket up quickly, running outside and towards the small creek near the back of the fort. The carcasses needed to cool off before they spoiled, and then she needed to skin them rather fast after that. Image courtesy of Zach Dischner <style>.GR2_DixRedS p {padding:0px 15px 5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:25px;} .GR2_DixRedS b {font-family:verdana; color:#8e2b18; margin:5px; font-size:10px; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:1px;} .GR2_DixRedS {background-color:#0f100a; font-family:verdana; font-size:10px; color:#79463c; line-height:12px; width:500px; text-align:justify; background-image:url(http://img534.imageshack.us/img534/3616/dixs.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding:388px 0px 5px 0px; border:5px solid #010104; margin:0 auto; border-radius:18px; -moz-border-radius:18px; -webkit-border-radius:18px; box-shadow:2px 2px 3px #1d1d1d; -moz-box-shadow:2px 2px 3px #1d1d1d; -webkit-box-shadow:2px 2px 3px #1d1d1d;} .GR2_DixRedS .lyrics {color:#fbe985; text-align:center; font-family:Graduate; font-size:11px; padding:0px 15px 0px 15px; line-height:10px; } .GR2_DixRedS .ooc {text-align:right; font-family:verdana; color:#935e53; font-size:9px; border-top:2px dotted #8e2b18; padding:1px 15px 10px 15px; font-weight:italic;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;}</style> - Neela Garcia - 04-16-2012 [html] Oh herro, here's a Neela for ya.. Word Count → 389 The smell of salt clung to Neela's fur, currently tangled and matted with the stuff. The past few days Neela had been splitting her time between familiarising herself with her new territory and working to get her boat the Meria Lea unstuck from the beach where she had crashed it. Unburying and dragging a fully stocked 35 foot boat was no easy task and it had taken several days to get it moving again. She had finished her work earlier that day and had spent the rest of the day making sure everything was in order and then finally sailing the boat back to Casa. Leaving her vessel at one of the many abandoned docks and making a note to scout out somewhere more permanent sometime soon Neela had made her way back to the fort. While years of sailing had left Neela somewhat immune to the salty smell that gathered in her fur when she was on her boat she was well aware that others were less accustomed and so when she arrived back at Kinsbury her first destination was a small river she had noticed running under the walls, crossing just behind the fort itself. Neela wasted no time in dropping her belt down by the bank, the tools and knives strapped to it jingling loudly as they fell, and dipping into the cool, fresh water. Neela swam for a little while, pushing upstream for a dozen metres and then enjoying the easy swim back down before she dug her hands down towards the bottom, grasping a stone heavy enough t anchor herself and then floating on her back and relaxing. Neela had been relaxing thus for about ten minutes when she heard a commotion upstream. Slowly she shook herself out of her daze and righted herself, looking over just in time to see a white furred wolf wandering away from the river and back towards the center of the town. Curiously Neela grabbed her belt and followed behind. She hadn't really interacted much with the members of her new pack so far, Tony aside obviously, and was eager to find out about those around her. The white furred wolf had eventually stopped by the town square where she settled down and starter skinning some small game. Neela hung back indecisively for a moment before shaking her head and moving forwards, "Hello?" - Dixie-May Jackson - 04-17-2012 [html] <style> @import url(http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family= ... a+Expanded); @import url(http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Graduate);</style> Drift away from all these city lights, Might rock a little bit, So hold on tight. Word Count :: +3!Rawr!
Skinning small game was a quick job, but there were a lot of small parts to pay attention to so fingers weren’t sliced apart. Dixie had one rabbit and one squirrel skinned when she heard the soft voice coming from the left. Smiling a bit, she tilted her head up and took in the sight of her visitor. A beautiful woman with a tricolored, long furred coat… Someone else with ridiculously long hair covering their body! The smile on her face grew into a happy grin and she patted the ground at her side. C’mon an’ sit down, hun. I’m Dixie-May, What’s yer name? Image courtesy of Zach Dischner <style>.GR2_DixRedS p {padding:0px 15px 5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:25px;} .GR2_DixRedS b {font-family:verdana; color:#8e2b18; margin:5px; font-size:10px; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:1px;} .GR2_DixRedS {background-color:#0f100a; font-family:verdana; font-size:10px; color:#79463c; line-height:12px; width:500px; text-align:justify; background-image:url(http://img534.imageshack.us/img534/3616/dixs.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding:388px 0px 5px 0px; border:5px solid #010104; margin:0 auto; border-radius:18px; -moz-border-radius:18px; -webkit-border-radius:18px; box-shadow:2px 2px 3px #1d1d1d; -moz-box-shadow:2px 2px 3px #1d1d1d; -webkit-box-shadow:2px 2px 3px #1d1d1d;} .GR2_DixRedS .lyrics {color:#fbe985; text-align:center; font-family:Graduate; font-size:11px; padding:0px 15px 0px 15px; line-height:10px; } .GR2_DixRedS .ooc {text-align:right; font-family:verdana; color:#935e53; font-size:9px; border-top:2px dotted #8e2b18; padding:1px 15px 10px 15px; font-weight:italic;} p.template-credit {text-indent:0px; text-align:center; font-size:10px; font-style:italic; width:425px; text-align:center; margin:0px auto;}</style> - Neela Garcia - 04-29-2012 [html] I am really sorry about the wait. I'll do my best to keep more up to date from now on. Neela quickly worked over her moment of shyness, moving forward with a smile when the white furred woman beckoned her over. Neela dropped down besides the woman, sitting cross legged and letting her belt fall to the floor with a heavy clank ad the tools and pouches crashed against each other. "I'm Neela. Nice to meet you." The collie's soft voice was oddly controlled, more short and clipped than her usual melodious sound; a slight audible representation of the undercurrent of nervousness present in her mind at attempting to integrate into a new home. Again. Unsure how to start a conversation Neela simply sat back and started drying herself off from her swim; wringing out the long mane crowning her head before retrieving a band of leather from a pouch on her belt and beginning to tie it up in her usual ponytail. Dixie's staring and exclamation caught Neela off guard for a second but she recovered, "Yeah, I built it a few years back. Travelled up the country on it to get here." Neela took the offered meat and snapped it up, smiling in gratitude, "Thank you. I was born down south as well, not sure how far though; my map reading's a bit iffy. I was born near a place named Mexico if that rings any bells." Neela was starting to relax slightly now, her shoulders losing a previously unnoticed tension, "Pretty confusing place to grow up actually; half the people there spoke English and the other Spanish! Having to learn two languages as a kid sucked. Muy útil, aunque." Reaching over Neela rooted through her belt for a few moments before finding one of her knives and unsheathing it. The sharp, serrated blade was designed more for combat or cutting rope but it would work for skinning. "Ya want some help with those?" she offered, idly running the blade across the tips of her fingers and noting that it would need sharpening soon. Word Count :: +329 <style>.Holder {width: 640px; margin:0px auto;} .NeelaFor { background-image:url(http://img109.imageshack.us/img109/4457/neelaforest.jpg); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:center bottom; border-radius: 15px; background-color:#ffffff; width:500px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:15px 0px 345px 0px; color:#; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; } .NeelaFor b {color:#f5000f; font-weight:bold; opacity: 1; } .NeelaFor p { color:#008416; text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; } .wc {color:#000000; letter-spacing:0px; text-align:center;font-style:italic; padding:0px 5px; margin:0px 0px 0px 15px;font-size:11px; } .ooc {color:#000000; letter-spacing:0px; text-align:center; font-style: italic; padding:0px 0px 0px 15px; margin:0px 0px 0px 0px;font-size:11px; } </style> [/html] |