11-25-2009, 10:02 PM
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| http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurik_angel.jpg); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:fixed; padding-top:10px; padding-left:12px; padding-right:12px; padding-bottom:286px;"> ;; I'm sorry for lagging. I've been having some weird trouble with Rurik the past week or so. |: I swear I've looked at your post five or six different times trying to reply, and nothing would come out. Here's to hoping this time runs a little bit better. XD Ik? The Russian wolf laughed loudly at this; it had never occurred to him to truncate his name in that fashion before! He was good-natured when it came to jokes, and the one from his canine companion gave him a particular riot since it involved his name and something he'd never thought of before. "I never thought of it that way," the wolf admitted, grinning broadly. The conversation shifted back to his place of birth, and he shrugged. It was a far way a way, and it was not common for those here to know where it was. "No worries. Pretty far over the ocean, it is," he said. It was generally useless to give people more specific directions than that—geography wasn't a topic considered important to many once they were settled into a particular area. The silver-furred werewolf had struggled with his own issues for as long as he could remember. As a boy, he'd surely been attracted to both sexes. When he settled with Kiska he thought that was the end of it, and he'd never need anyone else... but he'd been proven wrong there, clearly. He couldn't remember what happened with Laruku, true—but he could guess, waking up hungover and smelling like the other man all over. It was a strange and liberating thing to act on impulses that had plagued him since he could remember, but disconcerting and disappointing not to remember a bit of it. He would have about shit himself to learn that one of his brothers was overtly gay—not that he ever would have; Skrom was buried deep within the closet, and he was quite careful to keep up appearances around the family. Still, it was rather doubtful any of the Russos would have given a shit either way. They were a pretty open-minded bunch when it came to just about everything. Zinoviya might have joked about the lack of grandchildren, but other than her playful jesting the issue likely would have gone over without public comment. It certainly would not have been a Brobdignagian subject within the family. Rurik himself couldn't even pretend to have a problem with liking boys; he was not a hypocrite—or, he tried not to be. It was easy to rage against something if others around you were adamant in their hatred and prejudice, but it was better to be open about it, especially with a kindred soul of sorts. Rurik simply couldn't restrict himself on gender; he simply was attracted to both genders sexually and romantically, though he hadn't had a real relationship with a man, just encounters. "I see. To each his own," the silver-furred wolf said, and he shrugged, showing nonchalance about it. He didn't know if he felt comfortable enough blurting it out like this man did; pretty much the only one who knew about his tendencies was the man he'd slept with, and Rurik figured he was long gone. The conversation shifted again, for which Rurik was rather glad, and he was interested to hear the man talk of liquor. "Oh yes. I got a bit of a stash—good stuff. Irish-brewed whiskey, Chekov-distilled vodka," he added, though the terms were both likely meaningless here. "Are you looking for trade?" the wolf asked politely, figuring he could certainly part with some of his ample stash for the correct price. It was a common conversation on the other side of the world. |