the earth isn’t humming

Smith Hajara · 05-25-2010, 03:16 PM

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Character Name: Isra "Smith" Hajara
Character Birthdate: November 10th, 2006
Luperci: Verto
Species: Arabian wolf (canis lupus arabs)
Gender: Female
novaphase1 (AIM)

The climate was perhaps the hardest to acclimate to, ironically enough. The Arabian woman’s fur was not meant for cold or damp—her thin, light pelt was meant to prevent the desert sun’s harsh rays from overheating her. This may be warm for Canadian spring, but it still chilled her nonetheless. In the mornings, evenings, and at night the woman had to wear an old blanket as a shawl to keep away shivers, and that was how it was this morning as well. She had slept fitfully as usual only to resume her journey before the sun rose. She had walked for some way since making landfall further south, the cycle of the sun and the moon virtually unchanged. She slept and then she rose, she walked and then she stopped. Her trek was strange—she was so unused to directing her own actions that she had no end in sight. Smith’s body had not been her own to do as she wanted for years; it was so strange to ask herself what she wanted to do with the day when she was accustomed to being told and directed.

Her wanderings had unwittingly carried her through much of the Souls territory—she had passed Inferni and Phoenix Valley, passing between Dahlia de Mai and the intimidating city of Halifax before continuing southward to the peninsula. Smith would have eventually reached the end and turned around, but her continuous steps were stilled by a scent, of all things. For the first time in hours her gray eyes lifted from her endless path, turning to the east. It was a smell that she could probably pick out miles away, engrained into her mind as if branded.

Smith could tell that they were claimed lands. For the longest time she had not understood the marked boundaries (as European towns were all shared lands, and claiming was generally not practiced), though trespassing once or twice had educated her of that. But no, it was not the pack, but rather the very peculiar scent of fires kindled into existence to bend metal and twist it to the maker’s needs. Smith had lived with that scent fogging her mind for years, which was why it had stopped her a few moments ago, and now drew her a few more paces towards the boundaries. It brought back memories—nothing traumatic, but certainly curious enough to be stirred in this New World. In the end she was in no hurry, and she stood silently at the borders with few thoughts in her mind as her gray eyes looked out, seeing everything but noticing nothing.

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Vigilante Haskel · 05-25-2010, 06:21 PM

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=D 300+ words.

Things were, as they always seemed to be, quiet around the Miracles pack. It had taken some time, but Vigilante was finally growing comfortable in his new role as King, and it seemed that the pack had grown accustomed to the change as well. It had come as a relief to the former Constable to realize that the pack was completely capable of moving on in the absence of Jacquez. Even Ruri seemed to be in better spirits as of late. That made the new King happy. Any worries he'd been holding that the pack would not approve of his taking over the leadership of the pack had been quelled quickly. He felt as though the pack was going to continue to be as fruitful and thriving as it had been for the past year. The pack was surviving, just as he had known that it would.

The secui King had found himself running the course of the borders that day, beginning with the land beside the ocean and working his way around them at a leisurely pace. He saw no reason to quicken his pace, as his runs along the borders tended to be for naught. Their pack was a safe place, and there had been no trouble in quite some time. He did border checks to reassure himself of the pack's safety, though he knew that he was not alone in what he did. At the very least, he knew that Haven made his own rounds around the borders. The doggish male did not know how frequent these were for the Knight, but he suspected that they were daily checks.

Vigilante slowed as a figure came into view, a woman with a blenket draped across her shoulders. She was unfamiliar, and unmoving, looking on silently. "Hello," he said pleasantly as he approached, curled tail held high. "Is there sometihng that I can help you with? I am Vigilante Haskel, the King of this pack, Cour des Miracles," he introduced himself.

Smith Hajara · 05-26-2010, 01:32 AM

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<3

A stray breeze brought the man's scent to her, a definite shock from her reverie. She turned slowly to face him, startled as her gray eyes had to sink closer to the ground to meet him properly. She hadn't seen someone in their four-legged forms in so long, much less the mid-way state. In France virtually no one used their other forms; some hunters found it liberating to resort to the feral ways, but most would rather play with the toys of humans: bows and arrows, traps, and (when possible) guns. It had never been well-regarded to spend time in Lupus or Secui mostly because that time was seen as wasted; Optime's versatility could benefit far more.

Despite this, she did not think any less of the man with the doglike guise—earthen tan tones dusted with cream, grey, and black in the most distinctive pattern. He did not even need to say any words to her; Smith immediately regarded his presence with a dipped head, lowered ears, her gaze skewed off to the ground to the side. With her averted eyes she did not see him as the words came to her, and perhaps that was for the better—the kindness in his tones surprised her, and it showed in those dark-rimmed and expressive pools. Whenever she had come so close to trespassing before in her travels, she had either been warned or chased by passersby, never greeted so amiably. And by the man—this Vigilante Haskel—who called himself the King of a land called Cour des Miracles. It was very unexpected, and very unorthodox from perspective of where she had served for so many years.

And yet the very name of this place brought a flicker of a smile to her thin lips. Though the wolf named Isra had spoken the tongue of Arabic as her own, the woman, Smith, who stood here spoke French most natively. "The court of miracles," she murmured as her smile faltered with a single chuckle. "Greetings, Monsieur Haskel. I am called Smith Hajara, and I ask your pardon for my proximité to your lands." She paused, glancing toward the coast and the lands that the King called his own, before adding with some hesitation, "I know it is a strange question, monsieur, but do you have any type of smit'y—of, ah, forge—in your territoire?"

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Vigilante Haskel · 05-26-2010, 12:54 PM

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300+ words.

The submissive stance she adopted was surprising. In his experience as both the Constable and the King of this pack, Vigilante had found that most who came to their borders did not do so quickly, if at all. It had never been much of a problem, though some specific canines had needed an extra shove to learn their place. This pack had been created as a haven, he knew, and though he had come less than a month after its creation, he understood its purpose. Cour des Miracles had never been meant for the strictness of a normal pack. Still, he was able to appreciate the intention behind the action. He did not think he would ever demand such a thing from anyone, but there could never be any guarantee of that. Vigilante very much appreciated her doing so without him needing to say or do anything, as far as he was aware.

It was obvious that she had come from quite a ways away, as he did not know that any of the packs here raised their members on such strict submission requirements. Even if she was from here, she probably had been been born here. He did not think that any of the packs were very old, and she seemed to be relatively close tol his own age. She was not a yearling, at any rate. When she spoke, he offered her a smile, though he was not certain she could see it with averted eyes. He did not understand some of the specific words she spoke, but he was able to understand the meaning of the words that he suspected were french. His mate spoke the language, and he knew that many did, including their former King.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hajara," he said, allowing his emerald gaze to follow where hers lay. With a nod, he confirmed, "Yes. I work with metal and have a room dedicated to it in my home, and though I have been busy as of late, I do try to find time to work some often. Do you know much of the trade?"

Smith Hajara · 05-26-2010, 05:15 PM

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It was actually a wonder that she had not submitted more—at home months ago, she was accustomed to kneeling when someone as highly-ranked as the shérif or the magistrat or the town came to the home of Pierre. Actually, if someone with the nobility of a seigneur or a baron had stopped by, she would probably either leave the room or bow to the ground—she did not even know what she would have been expected to do if the roi himself arrived. But of course she had been a slave, property, and looked upon as less than the average European Luperci. She was a savage from the sands, given the gift of the humanoid form as an action of paternal affection, so that it was only right that she serve in thanks and respect. As badly as it sounded, she had believed this; she still did, somewhat. Though a wolf named Isra would protest, the woman named Smith accepted that her changed state was less than those who were born Luperci.

Still, the kindness of the roi was drawing. She saw the movement of a smile from the corner of her eye, tempting her gray gaze to drift toward his somewhat. Eye contact had been forbidden in her servitude—she could not manage it now, though she had a better peripheral view of him now. It was strange to her that this man ruled a pack with a name in French, and could not speak it himself—she could not detect a hint of the tongue in his accent. Her own was a mystery in itself—Smith believed she spoke French natively, but there was a distinct tinge to it that would separate her out by any native French speaker. She could still speak Arabic fluently (though she rarely did), and that gave her accent a unique tone. English itself she had learned secondhand over several months, and much of the time she could not distinguish between French and English words. She had never really had proper teaching; Smith was self-learned in speech.

And she could not remember ever having been called Miss Hajara—her common names in Pierre's household were simply Smith, girl, or no polite address at all. But these thoughts were a flash in the pan as Vigilante admitted that he himself was the metalworker of the area, something that made the woman's gray gaze widen for a moment. And now she could notice—the especially vague scent of soot that lingered around him, though washed and faded through time. It felt as though the stars had alined and shone through the early morning darkness—was it simple chance she had arrived upon a French-named court in the middle of the Canadian coast, led by a man with the same occupation as her former owner. It took her a moment to consider this and answer, "Oui, monsieur. I was the—" What word to use? Was it safe to admit that she had been Pierre's slave? He had freed her, so she was no longer, but it was still a frightening concept. She continued after the smallest of pauses, "—Assistant of un forgeron for several years. I know much of it, oui." Her work had been perhaps her only comfort in that life—there was something about shaping things from previously unbending and unwieldy steel that was a magic in itself. It wasn't until now that she realized the missed it somewhat.

She was silent for a moment longer as she pondered things, her destiny and the alignment of the stars for her. She wished the moon were out—there was a comfort in Allāt's eye upon her. Still, life sometimes presented things that were to happen, and she believed in this. So after this moment of consideration she said, "Monsieur Haskel, would there happen to be vacance—um, open space—in your pack? It would be a privilège, and I am able to work."

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Vigilante Haskel · 05-27-2010, 01:04 PM

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300+ words.

The secui King waited patiently for her answer. It seemed that she was struggling with a potential language barrier, which is why he did not comment on his own inability to speak French. The words were close enough to the ones that he could speak that he was able to decipher the meaning behind them. One day, he would really need to have Ayita teach him a bit of basic French, for the sole reason that there seemed to be a rather large number of French-speaking canines in the area. It would probably be beneficial for him to know more than one language, in general, and it was an effort he would need to make. A large reason for this was probably because it was the language that their former King had been fond of. Vigilante had not considered it an important venue before, but now that Jacquez was gone and he was in the primary position of leadership, it seemed to be increasing in importance for the dog mutt.

"I only began working with metal a few months ago," he admitted, "and I cannot say that I am amazingly skilled. Perhaps you could show me some things in the future?" Vigilante was not too proud to admit that he still had plenty of room to learn and grow in the trade. It did not occur to him that she might come from a place where she was not used to being told that she might be capable of teaching the King something. He knew that he had come from a pack so vastly different from this one that it was like he had come to an entirely new world. Even still, he did not know the extent of the differences that others came from, and he would have found her former life intriguing in its differences from the majority's. Unless it was offered to him, though, Vigilante would remain unaware. He did not like sharing his past, so he did not pry into anyone else's out of respect for that.

He had not known what to expect when finding her here, as not all at their borders were interested in joining. The fluffy King was glad to know that she was interested. "Absolutely," he said. "Our pack is a haven for any and all who are interested in joining. If you wish to seek home here, you are welcome to." It was as simple as that. Though he suspected he'd just gained a new member for the pack, he awaited an official confirmation from the woman.

Smith Hajara · 05-27-2010, 06:06 PM

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Language was something that developed over time, Smith was aware of this—the first few months of her servitude had been brutal, having been so fresh into that world and knowing virtually nothing of the strange Romance language that the natives spoke, so different from the Arabic that she had carried over from her previous life. In her town, many had spoken English—enough to pick up the gist of the language, but certainly not enough to make it either distinct from French, or for it to be flawless. It would certainly improve as she lived here, just as her fluency had improved there. She only hoped that it would not take as long as it had then; and it did not cause as much trouble.

It was something a surprise to learn that the man had only been metal-working for a short time—from what she had seen in her village, the boys of the family began learning their trades from fathers and assistants from very young ages; they had called it their apprenticeship. She remembered Pierre's son Guy attempting to learn the trade of the smith, and how he had not been cut out for it. He had jumped at a flare once, and had looked at Smith afterward. Something about her look he had not liked, and he had tried to take out his embarrassment on her before Pierre intervened. And that was why she had thought the whole process somewhat broken; one should find what they were meant to do, just as her journey had taken her to France and then to British Columbia.

And indeed the thought of her attempting to teach anyone anything was as strange as a god leaning down from the heavens to ask the advice of one of their subjects, and it brought something of a nervous smile to her. But she could not refuse the request, so she replied, "Oui, monsieur, I would try my best." And by the time he accepted her with little else to say into the pack, she found herself dumbstruck once more. He knew nothing of her but a name and a trade and already he opened his doors? Amazing. Smith blinked slowly, nodding and saying in a low tone, "You are très bon, King, to do this." She paused, her stony eyes looking out toward the coast once more and seeing the distant abnormal shapes of buildings as well. "And the bâtiments—no, buildings—are they able to be lived in, monsieur?" She was unsure from this distance if they were ruins or better-kept, and seeing as though Vigilante was in his Secui form now, she feared the pack was more feral in their nature and remained in lodgings that their ancestors of decades back had used. Smith did not think she could live like that, so she wondered now how much work it would take restoring a home.

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Vigilante Haskel · 05-29-2010, 05:25 PM

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300+ words.

Vigilante understood her words to mean that she did, indeed, want to become a member of their pack for sure. "You will start out as a Seigneur, the basic rank for new members of the pack," he explained. "Over time, you will progress through the ranks and will be able to take an official job." He did not know what it was that she wanted to do. The pack already had a blacksmith—the King himself—but he did not have any problem with the prospect of there being two in the pack. It was not time for that yet, though, as she needed time to acclimate herself into the pack. Once she felt that she was ready to take on a co-rank, he would be happy to discuss her options with her. She would not even need to take one on, technically. It was not a mandatory thing, though he knew many members preferred having an official duty in their area of expertise. That would come for her later.

The secui King nodded in response to her question. He supposed that the members of the Miracles pack had become far more humanized than many packs. "Yes, the buildings are. We have a large hotel with free rooms if you were interested in finding a room there, as well as an entire port town, Lunenburg. There are a very large number of empty homes there. I live there," he added, "and there are a couple of houses separate from the town in the territory, as well. Most, if not all, of our members live in houses or the hotel." He was sure that there would be somewhere for her to make her own den, if that was the type of home that she preferred, but the majority of the pack's members spent most of their time on two legs, working with horses, and living in houses. It was a good arrangement for the pack's members, in his opinion. Everyone seemed happy.

Vigilante Haskel · 05-29-2010, 05:25 PM

Hey, welcome to 'Souls. You've just joined the craziest bunch of wolf roleplayers on the vast internet. If you haven't done so already, you should check out the rp guide for detailed information about our werewolves and other general role playing information.

Now that you're accepted, you need to do two things:
___1. Make your first IC post within five days.
___2. Update your profile with a bit of background information on your character.

You can also start saving up points toward titles and icons and cool stuff. Check out the Open Threads and Thread Requests forum for people looking to roleplay. You can post random out of character chat in the OOC Garbage with us, too.

Smith Hajara · 05-29-2010, 08:36 PM

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Perhaps it was something that she should've given more thought to, but Smith believed that coincidences did not exist in life. Personal experience had taught her that things did not just happen randomly, and that everything had a design and a purpose. Why did she come here, passing other groups of wolves and whatever else along the way, to find a French court on the coast, governed by a Vigilante King who seemed to share the profession that she had been sold into? No, things like this made her certain that there were no such things as coincidences. Everyone had their path of stars that they followed, and the moon was the anchor. Smith was sure of this.

The Arabian wolf nodded, a vague smile on her lips, as the roi described the rank that she was being given—of course, in Smith's own language, Seigneur meant Lord, which was ironic enough. She would never have imagined that one destined for slavery those many years would eventually become a free member of a pack with such aristocratic titles, nor to pick her own occupation therein. Though she had very good training in metalworking, she never had the chance to choose for herself—since she had passed into her second life, all of her decisions were made for her. Well, all decisions until a few months ago.

As for where she would live, it sounded as though there were more options than just the buildings she had seen originally. Though she imagined it would be easier to find a building in the city, something about a more secluded home in the country sounded nice. She had had enough of living in a town. "I suppose I will look around myself then, Roi, merci," she replied eventually, her tone low, dipping her head deferentially.

Smith did not make a move to leave—she would never consider leaving someone of royalty without either being dismissed or him leaving first.

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Vigilante Haskel · 06-01-2010, 06:00 PM

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Wrap up whenever you're ready? :3

The King was glad to have found a new member for the pack, and he was glad to have been able to help someone who had seemed a bit lost upon finding her. The pack seemed to remain at a steady amount of members, some arriving and some leaving, and he hoped that she would be one of the ones to stay. Truthfully, he hoped that they all were ones that decided to stay, but he knew that was a fairly unrealistic expectation. Still, the high number of the pack's members was something to make the King smile inwardly. The pack was prosperous and would continue to be so, he was certain.

Emerald eyes turned to Smith, and though he did not understand the actual word spoken, he thought that he was able to understand the sentiment expressed in it. "You're welcome," he said, sincerely hoping that she had actually thanked him. Both Ayita and Amaranth spoke French at home, and though he had tried to pick up a few words, it was a meager attempt at best. "Unless you have any other questions," he suggested, watching her for any sign that she would have any, "or you need anything else, I'll let you get acclimated now. If you need to find me for anything, you are welcome to call for me, or visit my home. I live in Lunenburg." Vigilante was absolutely not opposed to the idea of pack members visitting him at his house for any reason.

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