housework, if it is done right, can kill you - 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: housework, if it is done right, can kill you (/showthread.php?tid=5246) |
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- Aurèle Aston - 03-07-2009 [html] It had been six days since she had come to this peculiar little place. And in those six days, Aurèle had not managed to secure herself a den. She knew that was in part because of her nature (and because she had not had permanent residence in four years) and in part due to remarkably solid ground. The temperature had warmed enough to unthaw the most frozen layer, which she had been digging at for nearly half an hour. Her forepaws worked like pistons, scraping and tearing at the soil, and she was soon rewarded for this by reaching the soft dirt underneath. The white and tan female worked with the mindless process of a machine, removing black-brown earth from the small rise and sending it flying through the cold air. She made it only large enough to fit herself comfortably for the time being—Aurèle was not one to put stock in such residence, and if she found appropriate to do so later, she would expand it. A lack of greenery and anything dry made her unable to do much more then wind up with a small burrow, but for the time being, she was content with that. Stepping back and shaking off the loose soil, she snorted dust from her nose and spared a glance to the clear sky. - Attila Aston - 03-08-2009 [html]
- Aurèle Aston - 03-08-2009 [html] The noise gave the boy away almost as suddenly as his scent. Aurèle lowered her head and was greeted by the louder of her two nephews (from memory, at least) and recalled his name almost instantly. Regardless of whatever else plagued her, at least that was still as photographic as ever. Additionally, his eyes were lighter then his brother’s. Both of the boys had taken after their mother. The girls, as she recalled, had not. “You’re just like your mother,” Aurèle chided, though the corners of her mouth were turned up. “She always used to bother me when I was working. What do you need, Attila?” - Attila Aston - 03-09-2009 [html]
- Aurèle Aston - 03-09-2009 [html] As soon as he started speaking again, her ears turned forward. It was the peculiar speech problem that made her eyebrows furrow slightly, puzzled. Obviously, though young, he was able to speak well enough. She would have to ask Tayui once she made a point to find her. Turning her gaze down to the scarf, she sighed and then looked back at the boy. Were his eyes a shade or two darker, he might have passed for her silly brother—of course, she hadn’t seen Bart in years, so who knew what he looked like now. The shift took a few moments, her limbs stretching and changing and shooting mild pain through her body. Once finished, Aurèle shook out her long hair and pushed it out of her face with one hand. “Hand it over,” she nearly demanded, holding out her other hand. - Attila Aston - 03-09-2009 [html]
- Aurèle Aston - 03-23-2009 [html] She moved quickly, her nails slitting the fabric with ease. It was sloppy, but it would suit his purpose. Her eyes lifted from the task at hand and caught her nephew studying his own leg, and she found some amusement in this. “You’ll be able to do this soon,” she offered, continuing with the scarf. Shaking her hair out of her face, she snipped off the second piece and moved onto the third. It was a menial task, one she found little pleasure in—but it was better then dealing with the babbling nonsense his sister had offered her. With the third and final cut done, she motioned to his leg. “Come here and I’ll put them on.” - Attila Aston - 04-25-2009 [html]
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