the pharaohs killed the first born son - 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: the pharaohs killed the first born son (/showthread.php?tid=8177) |
- Hezekiah Finch - 10-12-2009 [html] The interior of the mansion was exquisite, a place of refined goods that had not been blanketed in a far amount of dust that upon entering it, Hezekiah had to stifle a sneeze for fear that it would echo. And echo it did, down the empty, quiet corridors, off the hardwood floors and solid walls. After days of deliberating, he had come back to the mansion once again to escape the rain and explore just what it was that had descried his attention before. Though he had made most of the travel in his lupus form, he had since changed to optime before entering the building (otherwise trying to operate the door would have been an epic fail), which had put him on better terms with the interior. Furniture didn’t have to tower over him this time and stairs didn’t have to be some awkward thing to try and take all four feet up; he could explore the place in the way that it was meant to be explored like those of the creatures who had built it.
Navigating the place, he couldn’t help but be set off by something unseen, something that played so heavily at his imagination that the sound of the rain tapping against the windows in one room seemed so different in another. There was ever the faintest dripping sound in one part of the house and in one room he ventured through, the smell of something old and musty, as though some other damp-haired creature had been there hours ahead of him. Which was very likely, because he was well aware that some had taken up refuge in the mansion at one point or another. Even with the dust on things, some rooms were put in order while others were in disarray; he supposed members of Inferni had kept it in line at some point after whatever had lived there before was gone.
One such room of this mansion was a grand library, where bookcases lined the room from floor to ceiling. Somewhere set in piles that had been knocked askew, but the shelves were remarkably full. Now for a canine who had been intelligent enough to master written word, this room would have been a gold mine of entertainment. But to Hezekiah, who had not, the room was nothing more than another mystery. But it’s open structure and the grand windows that lined the far wall of the room drew him in and he raked his nails gently over the cover of one of the books as he did so, that very hand continuing to gently go across the smooth hardwood tabletop in the process. His senses were set alive by the old smells and while there was ever both a dusty and musty smell that enveloped everything, he could tell that whoever had put the room back into reasonable order had spent quite a lot of time there, but they were evidently long gone.
Which, ironically, seemed to be like anyone else who may have inhabited the place.
Or so he thought. - Halo Lykoi - 10-21-2009 [html] http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/l ... dreams.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> <3 300+
- Hezekiah Finch - 11-09-2009 Sorry about the wait. School and life eated me. *comes to live under your bed away from it all* [html] http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/hezetable.jpg) no-repeat center center;"> He was oblivious to her presence at first, too caught up in the unfamiliarity of the architecture around him. Hezekiah was surprised, for as well built as the building was, including the library, that more coyotes didn’t billet right up inside of it. But he also supposed that it may have been the location — far from Inferni’s heart, close to the wolves at the door — and maybe something a bit more feral too; he had noted that like his home before, the coyotes (hybrids, if one desired to be politically correct) embraced what was ingrained in them for generations, rather than the bizarre humanistic ideals that had since come into existence at their extinction.
He watched with translucent blue eyes as the rain slid down the windows, heard the faint patter as it met its demise, and was slowly met with the sensation that he was being watched. It encroached upon him just as quietly and slowly as the coyote who watched him and for a moment, he didn’t act on the nagging sensation. But as it were at the end of that long table, he had to turn to face another direction eventually, and when he did he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. But despite the perceptive warning, he still showed surprise in his eyes. But it melted away underneath the glare, deference seeping into his expression and body language just as naturally as breathing came to all.
But he had seen the shade of her eyes, he had seen the sharpness in them.
He fumbled for something to say, some sort of excuse, but nothing but unintelligent sounds started at the back of his throat. He cleared it. “I,” he started and stopped, going quiet for a moment. Hadn’t Anselm said something about someone living in the mansion? “Are you… Halo?” Hezekiah took a leap of faith, deciding rather to query her before she could him, and rather than explain himself. He wasn’t even sure what exactly he had done wrong, but that had more to do with his association of expression to reaction to something he had did or did not do. - Halo Lykoi - 11-09-2009 [html] http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y199/l ... dreams.jpg); background-position: bottom center; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> -tosses some cookies under bed- btw, sorry for quality in this post >-< 300+
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