01-26-2010, 07:48 PM
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1167
Check the butterfly table, because I changed it a bit. And sorry, more 1000+ posts x___x
The only thing that really made the redhead stand out was the vivid crimson coloration on his mane and his groomed out hair when in optime -- which was the norm more often than not. None of it was natural, much like the necklace and small silver loops in his ears. Those had been man made and adapted for the lupine male. The dye had come from plants and other things that the redhead had experimented with on his journey as well as having swiped from the human dwellings in Michigan. In the end, the one thing he found that would work best to give his mane such a bright coloration was henna. While he had not found it in his home pack, he learned about it later. It, by all means, should not have had any hold on the color market on this content, seeing as it was not a natural plant in the area. But through restored greenhouses in a Canadian city and others further south, henna, among other non-local plant life, were grown under the watchful eyes of Luperci with green thumbs. There had been more pot available then, but Strel had chosen to not participate then, but he did love the availability of the dye material.
Some helpful stranger in a city she said was called Toronto introduced him to the stuff when he wondered into her salon, where she had established shop to provide her services to the Luperci and four-leggers alike. She told him that very little would give him the color he desired, while beets could be used to create a similar effect, it would be far less permanent and after a few splashes in water, it would wash out. She gave him his first packet of henna and directions how to mix and dye it after getting his first coat of it on. However, prior to putting it on, she had done something to his hair that had made it smell foul, but allowed the color to penetrate into the hair; the pigments, she told him, had a harder time getting in on darker colored locks. Or so she told him afterward. But Strel was just happy to find himself looking the way he did that he paid his fee - he fixed a couple of her shirts and pants - and went on his way, stopping to find henna wherever he could. Now he had a store of it hidden, hopefully safely, in his drawers in his room. It looked almost like a powdered drug but digesting it was probably not a good idea.
Strelein gave a sigh, shaking his head at the blond. "Let me dream, let me dream, boyo. He'd even give me honey for some crumbly biscuits, too." He said nothing about the other's father, thinking that perhaps it was time to end the discussion on his family. Strel would have liked to mention his own more, but too bad. It would have been egotistical of him to do so. Besides, there would be little to say about them; there was love between them, despite the rift between the strange redhead and his father. Their relationship had started getting colder and more distant the older Strel got to be. Of course his father had always been so resentful of the fact that his children could shift with painless ease in the matter of a minute or less. Jaden never stuck around when his mother, Serya, would instruct her Luperci children in the skills of a mutated virus gene carrier; Jaden was not a willing Luperci, though he had been when they conceived their first litter. Somehow, the man did not care for the transformations that he could choose to overcome. He sided with the leaders more often than not, while Serya tended to be far more liberal, having been raised out of the pack. In the end, Strel had to free himself from the tyrannical grip; his mother was too weak to stand completely against them. "Oh that would be unfortunate! I'd be a statue for the visiting wolves to gawk at. And then in the spring, I'd thaw with a terrible head cold."
After the blond took his hand and rose, the redhead casually brushed off a stray piece of grass automatically. Then, making a face at Daisuke, eyes wide, he gasped at the younger male. "Why, plenty! I'd haunt you and yours until the end of your days, popping out of nowhere to lead you into ditches or into thorny bushes and then giggle in a ghostly manner," he whispered in a hushed voice, making ghost noises for a few moments. Then he chuckled right back at the blond, following him and the kitten riding atop his shoulder for all his worth a king. Strelein let the male lead onwards for he had no idea where the cave was, as was probably quite obvious. If he knew, then the redhead would have been quite a stalker. And then what would have Daisuke thought? Well, probably that it was nice of him to take such an interest in little old him and giggle some more. Or so Strel's imagination told him. The path was clear, for the snow had not had remotely enough time to build up into something daunting, nor were there any ditches to cross, but the presence of which would have amused the Cour des Miracles chevalier quite a lot.
Letting off a stifled gasp, the redhead found himself staring at a large staff spiked through a skull with some feathers hanging off it. That was unexpected, just as unexpected as it was to have found the blond. Shuddering slightly, Strel gave it a wide birth, trying not to seem obvious as he did it. It was such a creepy thing to do, but he would not be rude to say it out loud - he did not know if Daisuke would take offense to such a comment. Smiling at the offer to stay for a little while longer, the male accepted with a quick nod of the head, bangs bouncing slightly into his eyes. A quick flick of the wrist and digits brought the guilty strands out of his line of sight and back onto the sides of his head. Slipping inside the cave, he let his eyes adjust as best as they could to the dark. Well it did not seem like Daisuke was here for longer than any large amount of time; it was not fully decorated as some wolves loved to do. But it still felt cozy and, quite frankly, a fire would have been damn nice. "If I won't be a burden, I would appreciate it. I can take a gander at the work I'd need to do now, too, so that's a plus," he accepted, taking a few slow steps to stand behind Daisuke, peering over his shoulder at the pants. He stuck his hand out at him, silently requesting permission to handle the garment.
Check the butterfly table, because I changed it a bit. And sorry, more 1000+ posts x___x
The only thing that really made the redhead stand out was the vivid crimson coloration on his mane and his groomed out hair when in optime -- which was the norm more often than not. None of it was natural, much like the necklace and small silver loops in his ears. Those had been man made and adapted for the lupine male. The dye had come from plants and other things that the redhead had experimented with on his journey as well as having swiped from the human dwellings in Michigan. In the end, the one thing he found that would work best to give his mane such a bright coloration was henna. While he had not found it in his home pack, he learned about it later. It, by all means, should not have had any hold on the color market on this content, seeing as it was not a natural plant in the area. But through restored greenhouses in a Canadian city and others further south, henna, among other non-local plant life, were grown under the watchful eyes of Luperci with green thumbs. There had been more pot available then, but Strel had chosen to not participate then, but he did love the availability of the dye material.
Some helpful stranger in a city she said was called Toronto introduced him to the stuff when he wondered into her salon, where she had established shop to provide her services to the Luperci and four-leggers alike. She told him that very little would give him the color he desired, while beets could be used to create a similar effect, it would be far less permanent and after a few splashes in water, it would wash out. She gave him his first packet of henna and directions how to mix and dye it after getting his first coat of it on. However, prior to putting it on, she had done something to his hair that had made it smell foul, but allowed the color to penetrate into the hair; the pigments, she told him, had a harder time getting in on darker colored locks. Or so she told him afterward. But Strel was just happy to find himself looking the way he did that he paid his fee - he fixed a couple of her shirts and pants - and went on his way, stopping to find henna wherever he could. Now he had a store of it hidden, hopefully safely, in his drawers in his room. It looked almost like a powdered drug but digesting it was probably not a good idea.
Strelein gave a sigh, shaking his head at the blond. "Let me dream, let me dream, boyo. He'd even give me honey for some crumbly biscuits, too." He said nothing about the other's father, thinking that perhaps it was time to end the discussion on his family. Strel would have liked to mention his own more, but too bad. It would have been egotistical of him to do so. Besides, there would be little to say about them; there was love between them, despite the rift between the strange redhead and his father. Their relationship had started getting colder and more distant the older Strel got to be. Of course his father had always been so resentful of the fact that his children could shift with painless ease in the matter of a minute or less. Jaden never stuck around when his mother, Serya, would instruct her Luperci children in the skills of a mutated virus gene carrier; Jaden was not a willing Luperci, though he had been when they conceived their first litter. Somehow, the man did not care for the transformations that he could choose to overcome. He sided with the leaders more often than not, while Serya tended to be far more liberal, having been raised out of the pack. In the end, Strel had to free himself from the tyrannical grip; his mother was too weak to stand completely against them. "Oh that would be unfortunate! I'd be a statue for the visiting wolves to gawk at. And then in the spring, I'd thaw with a terrible head cold."
After the blond took his hand and rose, the redhead casually brushed off a stray piece of grass automatically. Then, making a face at Daisuke, eyes wide, he gasped at the younger male. "Why, plenty! I'd haunt you and yours until the end of your days, popping out of nowhere to lead you into ditches or into thorny bushes and then giggle in a ghostly manner," he whispered in a hushed voice, making ghost noises for a few moments. Then he chuckled right back at the blond, following him and the kitten riding atop his shoulder for all his worth a king. Strelein let the male lead onwards for he had no idea where the cave was, as was probably quite obvious. If he knew, then the redhead would have been quite a stalker. And then what would have Daisuke thought? Well, probably that it was nice of him to take such an interest in little old him and giggle some more. Or so Strel's imagination told him. The path was clear, for the snow had not had remotely enough time to build up into something daunting, nor were there any ditches to cross, but the presence of which would have amused the Cour des Miracles chevalier quite a lot.
Letting off a stifled gasp, the redhead found himself staring at a large staff spiked through a skull with some feathers hanging off it. That was unexpected, just as unexpected as it was to have found the blond. Shuddering slightly, Strel gave it a wide birth, trying not to seem obvious as he did it. It was such a creepy thing to do, but he would not be rude to say it out loud - he did not know if Daisuke would take offense to such a comment. Smiling at the offer to stay for a little while longer, the male accepted with a quick nod of the head, bangs bouncing slightly into his eyes. A quick flick of the wrist and digits brought the guilty strands out of his line of sight and back onto the sides of his head. Slipping inside the cave, he let his eyes adjust as best as they could to the dark. Well it did not seem like Daisuke was here for longer than any large amount of time; it was not fully decorated as some wolves loved to do. But it still felt cozy and, quite frankly, a fire would have been damn nice. "If I won't be a burden, I would appreciate it. I can take a gander at the work I'd need to do now, too, so that's a plus," he accepted, taking a few slow steps to stand behind Daisuke, peering over his shoulder at the pants. He stuck his hand out at him, silently requesting permission to handle the garment.
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