don't let me drag you down here to my level - 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: don't let me drag you down here to my level (/showthread.php?tid=9753) |
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- Gabriel de le Poer - 02-11-2010 [html] Word Count: 710. Backdated to the night of 1/5. Gabriel had not waited for Halo. As soon as his sister had lost consciousness, he had responded. The shift to optime form had been quicker then expected, rushed along by the desperation that fueled his body. His hands had been gentle, as if he was moving a delicate piece of glass, and found that Rikka’s dead weight was not half what he expected. If this was due to the adrenaline coursing through his blood, he welcomed it. By all accounts, Gabriel was strong—but his shoulder was weak and he was uncomfortable behaving on two legs. Still he did not think about this, only the wounded girl in his arms and what he was going to do when he hunted down the bastard that had done such a thing to her. He made it, somehow, through the snow and the cold night, back to Inferni. While his den was not as welcoming as it had once been, it was enough to make his sister comfortable. Rikka was laid into his own bed, and the coy-wolf took the time to first light a fire, worried that the chilly air might do more harm to her then anything else. Besides that, he needed light to see the extent of her wounds. His jaw clenched, threatening to snap, when he saw the gashes along her hip line. Thankful she was unconscious, he examined them and was horrified by how deep they really were. It was as if Haku had been trying to tear her apart, which no doubt he was. What concerned him more then this though, was her arm. Something had obviously been done to it, given the fact it was torn asunder, and as his fingers lifted this to examine the room, Gabriel soon realized the extent was much more then a bite. It had been broken. The break was high, and while he was unsure of how it happened, the Aquila knew that it needed tended to immediately. It was lucky she was asleep, because the militaristic medicine Gabriel knew was not merciful. He placed a section of his weight on her chest, then in one swift motion, reset the bone. Had she been awake, that might have driven her to unconsciousness. Satisfied that it would now heal properly, he left her to gather the medical supplies he needed—finding that his supplies had run low, he frowned. Still, the heavy gauze and singular first aid kit he had would be enough for Rikka now. Gabriel cleaned her arm first, using disinfectant to wash the blood and dirt out of the wound. Though it looked nasty, he was unwilling to do anything more then apply a thick amount of medical gel and wrap it up. Given that her arm needed set, he did not wish to have to clean stitches and constantly move a healing bone. He used two branches to reinforce the area, tying this with cloth before wrapping the arm with the heavier, stronger material. Once her arm was covered, he used this same material to circle over her opposite shoulder, forming a would-be, backwards sling. This done, he moved to her hip. Cleaning these wounds was much worse, given their depth, and it took all of his willpower to not think about hunting down Haku Soul and tearing him limb from limb. Of all the people to attack, he had gone after Rikka—Rikka who had never hurt anyone, and who would rather befriend a wolf then attack one. His hands were still, obeying the ancient training, and he threaded the needle quickly. The stitching itself did not take long, closing the deep gashes and leaving in their place the blackened material to form ugly lines. Once finished, he took the extra time to wash the blood from her golden coat. His own was less than pristine and a trip into the cold air outside, and the snow, took care of this. Once finished, the Aquila returned to his den, grabbed one of the bottles that were stored in the back of his room, and settled down near the fire. He did not drink much, but a few mouthfuls of the whiskey was enough to settle his nerves, chasing the fury away and dulling it with warmth. .gabe-snarly p {padding:0px 20px 10px 20px; margin:0px; text-indent:30px;} .gabe-snarly b {color:#362C0F;} .gabe-snarly-separator {text-align:center; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px 0px; border-style: solid none solid none; border-color: #000000; border-width:1px; } .gabe-snarly-ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; letter-spacing:.4px; } .gabe-snarly {background-color:#9F936D; padding:0px 0px 10px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/gabebg.gif); background-position: top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: 'palatino linotype', georgia, serif; font-size:13px; color:#423C2A; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:2px; line-height:14px; width:400px; text-align:justify; } </style> - Rikka de le Poer - 02-11-2010 [html]
- Gabriel de le Poer - 02-15-2010 [html]
A subtle motion caught his eye, and Gabriel watched her. He did not move—not yet. He recalled his daughter, and his son, when they had been so wounded. Both had flinched from his touch, and he was hesitant to see this happen again. His dark hair, hair that had darkened so much since last summer, fell around his face and shadowed it from the firelight. Rikka’s eyes turned glassy, and her pupils dilated to where they were nearly the same size of the iris. Then, and only then, did she begin to cry. Every fiber in Gabriel’s being was torn in two; one side demanded blood, and the other demanded he comfort his sister. Even with the years and distance put between them, their bond was strong; stronger then he expected, given how quickly Gabriel could (and certainly had) turn on his own family. But he shifted, quietly, and lowered the bottle to her side. He sat next to her, but did not touch her yet. Instead, he made a low, soft whine in his throat, as if to reassure her of his presence. Then, and only then, did he speak. “I need you to sit up,” he said quietly, shifting his own weight. “This,” he said, touching the bottle at his side. “, will help with the pain.” Not all of it, and not what went beyond the surface, but it would dull the ache and settle the thoughts that he had no doubt were racing through her head. .gabe-snarly p {padding:0px 20px 10px 20px; margin:0px; text-indent:30px;} .gabe-snarly b {color:#362C0F;} .gabe-snarly-separator {text-align:center; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px 0px; border-style: solid none solid none; border-color: #000000; border-width:1px; } .gabe-snarly-ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; letter-spacing:.4px; } .gabe-snarly {background-color:#9F936D; padding:0px 0px 10px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/gabebg.gif); background-position: top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: 'palatino linotype', georgia, serif; font-size:13px; color:#423C2A; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:2px; line-height:14px; width:400px; text-align:justify; } </style> - Rikka de le Poer - 02-19-2010 [html]
- Gabriel de le Poer - 03-01-2010 [html]
Each movement she took he observed, as he might a dying animal. Rikka was not dying, but her body spoke of the injuries. They were severe, but not as dire as he initially thought. More then anything else she would hurt, and she would hurt long after the physical pain left her. She drank the whiskey and he saw it calm her, and he knew that she would not be awake for long. As long as he was certain she was alive, as long as he got water in her and numbed the pain as best he could, she would heal. It was not going to be a gentle path, but Gabriel believed she would be capable of facing it. She might not have suffered anything more traumatic then a thunderstorm before this moment, but now she had—and she had survived with more then their mother had. “Try not to talk much,” he said. Gabriel reached over to the half empty container of water, which was itself a reclaimed metal cooking bowl, and held it out for her. “Haku Soul is a demon, Rikka,” his voice dropped an octave, turning vicious. “He kills without reason and he tortures those he hunts. Last summer he tore apart a mother and a child. He won’t rest until he sees Inferni fall.” This Gabriel believed in his heart. He had seen it last summer, and he had seen it each time he had faced the man and looked into his eyes. Except something had begun to change…something he did not understand as of yet. .gabe-snarly p {padding:0px 20px 10px 20px; margin:0px; text-indent:30px;} .gabe-snarly b {color:#362C0F;} .gabe-snarly-separator {text-align:center; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px 0px; border-style: solid none solid none; border-color: #000000; border-width:1px; } .gabe-snarly-ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; letter-spacing:.4px; } .gabe-snarly {background-color:#9F936D; padding:0px 0px 10px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/gabebg.gif); background-position: top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: 'palatino linotype', georgia, serif; font-size:13px; color:#423C2A; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:2px; line-height:14px; width:400px; text-align:justify; } </style> - Rikka de le Poer - 03-07-2010 [html]
- Gabriel de le Poer - 03-07-2010 [html]
She recognized the name. Good. It would mean to her what it meant to him. If she had truly believed in mercy and in peace, he hoped that the beast had erased all ignorance of that from her. No one would be merciful here, least of all the blue eyed devil from the south. Then, as her sunflower eyes met his own (they were nearly the same shade, though somewhere, something had changed between them) she said something that made his stomach fill with lead and his face darken dramatically. A deep and terrible roar threatened to rise from his chest, but it was caught between his teeth and instead vibrated throughout the entirety of his body. Fury rose through his fur and made it rise to a point, black-tipped flames that now desired nothing more then to reach out and burn anything they could. The anger coming from his body was white-hot, though his face had darkened so dramatically it was as if no part of it was not black by birth. The coy-wolf forced the anger down, wrestling it into his chest. It would return, but he could not let it rise here. No part of him doubted that this might destroy his sister completely. “He attacked her,” the Aquila began slowly, his vision narrowing to two pin-pricks in the darkness. “He raped her.” Just like his daughter had been violated, so too had his mother. And Gabriel, powerful, mighty Gabriel, had been unable to lift a hand to defend them. In a very real way, he hated himself for such a thing. This war was not simply for Kaena, but it was for Gabriel. He would reclaim his honor one way or another. .gabe-snarly p {padding:0px 20px 10px 20px; margin:0px; text-indent:30px;} .gabe-snarly b {color:#362C0F;} .gabe-snarly-separator {text-align:center; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px 0px; border-style: solid none solid none; border-color: #000000; border-width:1px; } .gabe-snarly-ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; letter-spacing:.4px; } .gabe-snarly {background-color:#9F936D; padding:0px 0px 10px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/gabebg.gif); background-position: top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: 'palatino linotype', georgia, serif; font-size:13px; color:#423C2A; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:2px; line-height:14px; width:400px; text-align:justify; } </style> - Rikka de le Poer - 03-17-2010 [html]
- Gabriel de le Poer - 03-20-2010 [html] 300+ Even if she was not her mother’s daughter, even if no part of her was Lykoi, she would have been chosen. Simply because, above all other things, she was a member of Inferni. She had chosen her coyote blood over the wolves, though she very well could have belonged there more then here. Perhaps in time, she too would realize this. Inferni would destroy everything she had tried to become. Rikka was not a fighter, and was not hardy enough to survive such violence. She was as fragile to him as a songbird, and just as likely to be crushed by barbaric hands. Her brother, the eagle of the Waste, could only be gentle with her for so long. He sensed, as his Hydra did, that she was not supposed to be here. Her body tensed and the cry that broke from her throat was enough to swallow Gabriel’s field of vision completely. The air felt heavy, and while every part of him demanded retribution, he was unable to act on it. His traitor hands would have carried him to Dahlia in an instant, but without numbers, he would fall. This had been proven to him once all ready. In a blackened-red world, it was only his willpower that kept the Aquila where he was. “Don’t,” he warned her quietly, gently. If she did not quiet herself, he didn’t know what might happen. Even his words felt heavy, stumbling out of his mouth because he could no longer see the world before him. “Please don’t,” he demanded, black hair falling into his face, hands trembling at his side. Gabriel could not stand that noise. He could not stand to hear something so pathetic, so heartbroken, because it would crawl deep into his ears and burrow into his skull until it drove him mad. .gabe-snarly p {padding:0px 20px 10px 20px; margin:0px; text-indent:30px;} .gabe-snarly b {color:#362C0F;} .gabe-snarly-separator {text-align:center; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px 0px; border-style: solid none solid none; border-color: #000000; border-width:1px; } .gabe-snarly-ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; letter-spacing:.4px; } .gabe-snarly {background-color:#9F936D; padding:0px 0px 10px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/gabebg.gif); background-position: top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: 'palatino linotype', georgia, serif; font-size:13px; color:#423C2A; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:2px; line-height:14px; width:400px; text-align:justify; } </style> - Rikka de le Poer - 03-25-2010 [html]
- Gabriel de le Poer - 03-25-2010 [html]
He felt uncomfortable with her there, a bird crushed by a brutes paw. It was unfair and horrible for her to have suffered like this. Gabriel felt responsible as he always had. Kaena’s assault was his fault. This too, was his fault. Further more, the woman and her child from last summer, they were his fault. He had waited and he had not sprung when he should have. Haku had been given time and time made the monster twice as deadly. Now he was left standing in these ashes, wearing his families blood and knowing that he, Gabriel, was responsible. And he hated it. Gabriel made his way to her side and curled up next to her, a warm body, and licked the tears away from her face. He had nothing more to say, and only now wanted to calm his sister and have her quiet, have her sleep so he could remove himself from the scent permeating his home. Blood, whiskey, and that bastard wolf from the south. It stunk, and it stunk to high heaven. He’d follow the smoky smell that clung to Rikka back to her den and take some of her incense before the night was out. .gabe-snarly p {padding:0px 20px 10px 20px; margin:0px; text-indent:30px;} .gabe-snarly b {color:#362C0F;} .gabe-snarly-separator {text-align:center; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px 0px; border-style: solid none solid none; border-color: #000000; border-width:1px; } .gabe-snarly-ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; letter-spacing:.4px; } .gabe-snarly {background-color:#9F936D; padding:0px 0px 10px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/gabebg.gif); background-position: top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: 'palatino linotype', georgia, serif; font-size:13px; color:#423C2A; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:2px; line-height:14px; width:400px; text-align:justify; } </style> - Rikka de le Poer - 03-25-2010 [html]
- Gabriel de le Poer - 03-25-2010 [html]
Slowly, gradually, her breathing began to steady. His warmth and the whiskey could do so much to ease her into sleep, which was what he had intended from the start. She would need sleep above all things. Ezekiel had slept more then anything else, which told Gabriel, who was merely a combat medic, what bodies craved was sleep. They would repair themselves in time, though the deeper scars, the ones not visible, would linger on. She would never be all right as long as that blue eyed monster haunted her, and she would never escape him until he was long dead and gone. She would never escape her heritage here. “Get some sleep,” he said quietly, and remained by her side until she fell asleep. After a few long, agonizing moments, he left her and made his way outside. There he sucked in the cold air, washing away the scent of all the horrible things behind him, and made his way towards his sister’s den. He did not linger there long; he took a few sticks of the incense, and following his nose, found a small stash of her marijuana. This he brought for her, believing it would help ease her suffering. Gabriel took these things inside and lit one of the sticks of incense before moving closer to the entrance of his den. He sat there, with that smoke wafting out behind him, and stared into the dark night silently. .gabe-snarly p {padding:0px 20px 10px 20px; margin:0px; text-indent:30px;} .gabe-snarly b {color:#362C0F;} .gabe-snarly-separator {text-align:center; padding:0px 0px 0px 0px; margin:5px 0px; border-style: solid none solid none; border-color: #000000; border-width:1px; } .gabe-snarly-ooc {font-family:verdana, sans-serif; font-size:11px; letter-spacing:.4px; } .gabe-snarly {background-color:#9F936D; padding:0px 0px 10px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; background-image:url(http://sleepyglow.net/souls/gifts/gabebg.gif); background-position: top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; font-family: 'palatino linotype', georgia, serif; font-size:13px; color:#423C2A; letter-spacing:.3px; word-spacing:2px; line-height:14px; width:400px; text-align:justify; } </style> |