thread title missing - 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: thread title missing (/showthread.php?tid=4864) |
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- Salem D'Angelo - 02-07-2009 [html] Moonlight streamed down through the broken cloud cover and bathed the vast swath of territory known as Crimson Dreams in a blanket of shadows and light. The snow positively shimmered and sparkled beneath Salem's feet as he made a lazy trek back across the territory from his short travels. Going from one end of the territory to the other was tiring with all of that snow in the way, but he was getting better at navigating though it and at the very least, making good use of the paths where others had been. Today he was following in Naniko's footsteps, pretending to be the night watchman to a kingdom so vast and brilliant that it was loved by all. [/html]
In his kingdom, there were no good and evil. Everyone lived in peace. Everyone was happy and content, they helped each other. They loved each other. They were the perfect picturesque things he had “read” about in the books he had gotten to listen to. They were apart of the dreams he had when he was balled up by one of his siblings. So it wasn't totally Crimson Dreams that he saw through his gold-green eyes, but his magical, tranquil kingdom. As the borders came up, Salem did not hesitate or fear them like he had once before. He fell in line with the steps there, stepping carefully with the prints he believed to belong to Naniko. After all, he was hoping on this night, he would meet a certain creature… But just a fable, nothing more. - Conri Church - 02-15-2009 [html]
- Salem D'Angelo - 02-15-2009 [html] It was quiet, but much of winter had been that way. If it wasn't the wind whistling in his ears, it was the dead silence that rang cold and hard. And for the most part, Salem hadn't seen hide nor hair of anyone that he would have wanted to see on short notice. He could smell them, smell where they had been, but it seemed that once again he was far too late to do any sort of tagging along with any late border patrols. Additionally, any fabled creatures he had hoped would come out on a pretty night didn't rush out to greet him either, much to his dismay. [/html]
Salem would not be bring home any pet dragons tonight, it seemed. Instead, he did hear Conri's voice calling out to him from the dark woods around him. Even though it had been quite some time since he had last seen the man who was supposedly his father (a word and title both so foreign that they held no feeling at all), he hadn't forgotten what he looked like. Or what he sounded like either. Stepping carefully off in the direction that he had heard the voice, Salem peered through the mess of branches and snowbound brush to pick out the one-armed patriarch from the night. “Hello again,” he greeted nicely enough, with a smile, tail wagging away. “You came back.” - Conri Church - 02-20-2009 [html]
- Salem D'Angelo - 02-21-2009 [html] As Conri sank towards the ground to be even with Salem, the boy came forward and closer, just as he had before. The absence of his second arm still garnered some interest, but Salem tried not to give it so much attention. So his father lacked an arm and Salem had two mothers, which apparently was strange in itself. “Things have been okay,” he said with a shrug, not really feeling one way or another about it. “I'm ready for winter to be over with, though.” He was tired of the cold, tired of the snow, and tired of the days being so short and void of the sun. [/html]
“How have you been?” He didn't ask why it was that it had been so long since he had last seen him, though he did wonder. A couple of days was still a long time to him, but this had been longer than that, he was certain. Though now he was more attentive to the appearance of the other than before, even though he had barely changed since the last time he had seen him. And just as before, he wished that he could have come home, but he was also understanding of why he could not, though what his mother told him did not stack up against how he saw the red-haired man before him. How could someone so calm and meek do such things? - Conri Church - 02-27-2009 [html]
- Salem D'Angelo - 03-07-2009 [html] So he had been well, and that was good. That made Salem happy to know that Conri had not been afflicted with something adverse or incurable. Colds did not sound like fun, as Salem had heard about them. He had been lucky not to get them, he decided. The talk of a house also caught his attention and the boy was already wondering what it looked like. Did it have an interesting interior? Was it full of things that spoke volumes of the creature living there both past and present? Even his eyes lit up at the idea, a fire inside glowing brightly and curiosity at the proposition lain before him. Coming and visiting such an interesting man, this “father” of his intrigued him. An adventure to have all to himself, to be like Peter Pan and run through the fields and the world unknown! [/html]
“Where do you live?” he asked, black lips on black fur coiling back into a small smile. “And what kind of house do you live in? Is it like ours?” He could imagine the rooms and their warmth (they would have to be warm, given short fur!), the grimy windows that made the world to be viewed like a film out of an old western he had yet to read of. High noon at the county saloon; rooms littered with trinkets and glories of the past. Adventures to be had indeed… Salem already wanted to go. “Can I visit any time?” He did not think of what his parents would say, or the many friends his parents had and what they thought. He quite viewed his man as a friend because he had simply been kind to him so far. - Conri Church - 03-09-2009 [html]
- Salem D'Angelo - 03-10-2009 fail post is fail... and oh look! a table! [html] http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj31 ... rp/t37.png); background-position: bottom center; background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> _____His father did not have to speak in saccharine tongues to draw Salem in. He hung on every word that the the red-haired man spoke, his rich olive eyes reading the ever apparent expression written on his face and in his eyes. And while he had yet to venture to the city, Salem had heard of it. He knew where it was and he was certain that with a little bit of elbow grease (er, nose grease?) he could even find the little house that Conri spoke of. But it wasn't just the imaginary closeness of it that made Salem's heart swell with hope, but the things that his father gave him possession over. His little home so far had consisted of being in a den with five other bodies; albeit not always at once, but cramped enough in its own regard. Salem had no material possessions of his own, but the very thought of a place to put such eventual treasures made him think of just what those treasures would be. _____“Can I come see it today?” he queried with enthusiasm barely contained in the lilt of his voice. Any of the repercussions he could have face would have been worth it just to see the place and more importantly, to see his room. For someone who frequently moved in and out of the mansion that rested some odd few miles back behind them, having a room all to himself seemed like a very adult thing to have. The adults in the pack got their own room (though whether it was by default or of their own choosing was unknown to him) and now he would have one too! It didn't even dawn on him that maybe there was a possibility that all of his siblings would get to have a room of their own too, or maybe that even his mothers would disapprove of him being so easily led astray. - Conri Church - 03-17-2009 [html]
- Salem D'Angelo - 03-18-2009 [html] http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj31 ... rp/t37.png); background-position: bottom center; background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> _____Smiling once again, Salem's tail beat out a furious rhythm of happiness. Getting to go today would make it one of the best adventures ever in his book; more importantly, really the first one he would ever take. Even more appeasing was the idea of it being their secret, which for a boy who had no secrets with anyone sounded ideal as well. Naïvety shining through, Salem didn't really see Conri as his father at all, but rather as his friend. Where all of this meant one thing to the older man, it meant entirely another to his son. “I'd like that,” he replied, “I've never had a secret with anyone before.” Today would be a day of firsts, he decided. “Is the city really far away?” Or, in other words, should they leave now or later? |