give me strength, reserve, control - 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: give me strength, reserve, control (/showthread.php?tid=9143) |
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- Brooklyn D'Angelo - 01-02-2010 [html]
Come here, you Russian cutie! 387 - SSWM
These days seemed to fit Brooklyn's mood. Cloudy, sullen, although she had outgrown the temper-tantrums of youth. She was over a year old now. She could go out and meet cute boys, flirt with them, seduce them. And yet there was a strange sense of longing for some who had left her. Chief among them was Gael, the strange wolf-coyote she had met so many moons ago. Brooklyn was sensible enough to know she didn't love him, that she never had. Still, he had stirred deep within her a longing for the abandon of love, for the reckless way in which one could throw themselves into something and forget about the world around. She wanted the adventure, the thrill, the utter joy of being in love. Which was why she had finally decided to come and see Gael. Or the ghost of him, anything, a trinket that could remind her of what had never been.
It was eerie to come back to Inferni. The memory of the beating she had received from the scarred female was still fresh in her mind. She would not cross her again. She would not upset anyone on these lands. The sea smashed against the shore with an eerie sort of whisper, almost drawing the body toward it. She gazed out into the distance, as she had the day she'd met Gael. She felt carefree now, though there had been dreams to plague her. A white wolf, almost ancient he seemed. He came to her and spoke in gentle tones of the life he wanted for her. She didn't listen. They sat around a camp fire, him smiling in infinite wisdom, she a fidgety child with no attention span. He wanted nothing more than to have her listen. She would force herself awake and then simply stare at the ceiling. Shaking her head, Brooklyn looked around. She'd expected someone to come and jolt her, to try and get her to leave, but it seemed that the coyotes had other things on their minds. Tell me, surf and sea, where is Gael? Has he returned? It was foolish to speak to the water like a madwoman, but what else was there to do? For once, Brooklyn, who had sought to be alone for so long, found the loneliness almost too much to bear. [/html] - Silas Agata - 01-03-2010 [html]
- Brooklyn D'Angelo - 01-09-2010 [html]
boo delay SSWM - 383
It would be a lie to say she had been expecting to remain alone. It would also be a lie to even suggest that her heart did not skip a beat, that her breath didn't catch in her throat when she heard someone approaching. She remained perfectly still, the chill wind blowing through her hair, sending her fringe over her eyes. But the voice, although carrying a heavy accent, was not his. It was not Gael and all of her seemed to collapse under that knowledge. Still, she turned to him, her blue eyes meeting his and for a brief moment, she lost all memory of where she was and how dangerous it could all turn out to be. He was handsome, his coat a colour she hadn't seen in these lands. He moved with a grace that she had not encountered before and his eyes, which still held hers, made her want to drown in them. Shaking her head slightly, she pulled out of the reverie. It's very beautiful, yes. I don't think I could ever get used to it. Could you?
The white female gave him an appraising look, trying to see beneath his looks. He was young, but seemed worldly, much more so than she herself was. His accent was foreign, but the girl couldn't place him. Gael had been foreign, hadn't he? She couldn't remember if she had ever asked him about his homelands. There was a faint scent of Inferni about him, which was to be expected. At least he didn't want to chase her off, a novel concept for someone who was so used to the coyotes. But the most important trait of all was that he was a hybrid. The wolf blood was obvious in him. Brooklyn felt safe around him, perhaps he did not carry the same wolf hatred the coyotes did. Still, the woman who had chased her off had been an obvious hybrid too. She steeled herself against it, against anything he could throw at her. She did not wish to fight. My name is Brooklyn and I come from a pack around here called Crimson Dreams. What's your name? And why are you with the coyotes? she wanted to ask, but dared not. Perhaps he would reveal his reasons without such probing. [/html] - Silas Agata - 01-09-2010 [html]
- Brooklyn D'Angelo - 01-12-2010 [html]
SSWM -
The silence stretched between them endlessly, but the white girl said nothing to break the peace. She enjoyed his company, especially since he looked nothing like Gael and certainly did not carry the same childish amount of anger. Now that she looked back on it, he had been a tad foolish, throwing sand on her like that, just cold and uncaring. But this wolf was different, he was mature, his sure gait and smile telling her that she would be safe for now. Brooklyn wondered if there had ever been a time when coyotes and wolves didn't hate each other, when it was safe to come so close to their borders. She did not know of war. She could not even think that at an age so young she would have to face gruesome death. Turning to the male, she smiled, her tail wagging slightly between them. You have a very pretty name, you know. It's really unusual. Her eyes searched his for any hint of aggression or annoyance, but there was none. Where do you come from? It had occurred to her that he was foreign. That she was meeting someone who had travelled a while before coming here. She could learn a lot from him. Like she could from Dawali. I've never met someone so young who travelled a lot. I want to see new places some day, too, she added almost wistfully. [/html] |