Bad Kids
#1
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Powerplaying that they had discussed finding new guitars in Halifax beforehand. And Barrett’s reaction to Magic. And the fact that he’s riding Magic. Tongue Word Count: 538

As with her last trip to Halifax, Pixie was in search of something of use that she could find in the city ruins. But while her last few visits had been to simply find new clothes for winter, this one was a little more bittersweet; the silver wolf intended to replace her worn-out guitar with a new one. The old instrument had served her well this past year, from when she had first found it in a small abandoned music shop during her travels. But since then she had become a better musician, the guitar had gotten scratched up and more out of tune, and it was time her friend Skye had gotten herself her own guitar to practice on. The leader of Cercatori d’Arte had learned nearly everything about guitar playing that Pixie could teach her, having progressed much faster than the younger woman due to the fact that she was actually being taught by something other than an old handbook. Pixie planned on giving Skye her old guitar—which was still very functional despite its flaws—and finding a nicer one, if possible, in Halifax. She wasn’t expecting to just come across one in the same mint condition as Mars’s beautiful white guitar, but she was sure there had to be some sort of music store in the giant city ruins that might contain some instruments that had been preserved since the time of the humans.


One other thing she wasn’t expecting was that there would be someone else traveling with her, besides Magic. As she was leaving Crimson Dreams she came across Barrett, who happened to also be going to Halifax and—wouldn’t you know—was also planning on looking for a guitar there. Pixie hadn’t talked to Barrett much beforehand, but he seemed like a nice guy—carefree and fun without being too arrogant—and she offered to give him a ride to the city. While he seemed a little hesitant about riding Magic at first, he eventually accepted the offer, though he did cling to her awkwardly the entire way there. However, Pixie didn’t mind; if anything, she found it amusing, and besides, he was kind of cute.


Once they got to the outskirts of the city, Pixie continued to guide her horse through the abandoned streets in search of any sort of buildings that looked like shops. The familiar smells of other canines that had searched through the ruins greeted her nose, and eventually it lead her to a street lined with square brick buildings, all of which that looked like shops that had been rummaged through by other scavengers. “Whattaya say, Barry?” the silver wolfess asked, turning to her companion. “Should we look through these buildings first?” A little sore from being on a horse for so long, she slid somewhat clumsily off Magic and landed a little shakily on her paws. She was wearing her moccasins, as well as a ragged T-shirt and a faded, torn up pair of jeans, both of which she had found the last time she was here, but she had decided not to bring her old guitar with her like she usually did. It would mean she would have to carry two heavy instruments back.

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#2
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Sorry this took longer than expected to get up. D: -Fail- #447

Being a passenger was an entirely different experience from being a pilot, something Barrett came to appreciate in due time. Initially, he'd been borderline terrified—what if he lost his balance, what if he got trampled!—and he clung to her steadfast, not so unlike a baby baboon to its mother. He did attempt to exercise some restraint so she wouldn't pass out and send them careening off a cliff or something (as if the horse couldn't steer itself away from such obstacles... he had a wild imagination).


But over time, he seemed to acclimate to the rhythmic jostle of the horse's gallop and the hypnotic blur of the surrounding countryside as it flew past. His chin rested lightly on her shoulder and his grip loosened, though his arms stayed about her waist just in case they came upon a felled tree for Magic to hurtle (that always got the blood flowing again). Toward the end of their journey even this became less frightening, more exhilarating. Adrenaline was as potent a drug as any.


With the burden of navigation removed, his mind was free to wander. He thought of everything and nothing all at once; though he tried to pay attention to her route, he still found himself surprised when they arrived. He blinked as she addressed him and the 'boulders' they passed suddenly came into focus as buildings. Had he really been that out of it?


“Um, sure,” he agreed, disengaging himself from her at last. He wouldn't lie—it had been kind of nice having a convenient excuse to snuggle up to the violet-eyed fem. The girl wasn't much older than him, and her not-quite monochromatic, blue-tinted fur was unlike anything he'd seen before. Still, he'd been painfully careful about the placement of his hands the entire time, which made things awkward. They had just met, after all. And after the hunt... well, he was trying to be more careful.


The boy made to mimic her dismount, but something when terribly wrong. A high-pitched squeak sounded from his throat and he leaned against the animal, his legs splayed as if the horse was still between them. Had they solidified during their ride?! He did not see that coming.


He peered at Pixie imploringly, as if there was something she could do to help. Once he realised how amateur and unmanly this made him look, he glanced away and gently massaged the muscles with his palm. A few stretches further alleviated his discomfort, but when he went after her there was still a bit of “cowboy strut” in his gait. As invigorating and novel as the horse ride had been, maybe he'd find a different way home.

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#3
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Word Count: 386

She stood and watched patiently for Barrett to dismount, knowing that he would most likely need some help but waiting for him to ask her for it; she knew guys his age had easily wounded prides in these sorts of situations—having to ask a girl to help them out—and besides, seeing them try to attempt whatever they were doing could have some pretty hilarious consequences, so long as she made sure they didn’t get hurt. The boy’s loud squeak made the girl erupt in laughter, and she covered her mouth to try to stifle it, but to no avail. The sight of Barry leaning against Magic with his legs far apart, with the stallion looking absolutely mortified, was too hysterical for her to hold back the giggles.


“You’re just, hahaha, a little sore, hehe,” she gasped in between fits of laughter. “Try stretchin’ your, heehee, muscles out a bit, so you can walk, hahahahahahaha.” With a few deep breaths she managed to calm down as the other wolf slowly was able to stand up and walk again—and just in time, too, because Magic looked like he was about to step on Barry’s foot to get him to move. Pixie softly chuckled at the young wolf’s awkward strut, but kept her cool as she walked ahead of him, passing alongside the shops and looking through the front windows. Much of these windows were damaged, ranging from a few cracks in the glass to almost the entire sheet being destroyed, either by weather or strong Luperci with access to sharp or heavy objects. Looking through the windows, she could see that all the shops were in some state of wreckage; a few were just bare walls and floors, their contents destroyed or stolen in the several decades it had been since the humans had left. It was difficult to tell what each store’s original purpose was; even if one of them was originally a music shop, it could have had everything taken away from it. She could read now, but that wasn’t much use, since most of the signs had had their letters worn away.


“See anything that looks a little like a guitar, Barry?” she asked her companion. She was nearing the end of the street, and none of the shops had looked promising.


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#4
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Your post literally made me lol. XD #316

Beneath dark facial fur, Barrett's cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as her raucous laughter echoed down the hollow city streets. His ears tipped backwards and flattened, but a grin burgeoned across his features all the same. There was no sense in trying to save face now; the damage had already been done. But in life, as in combat, it was easier to roll with the punches than stand in rigid opposition—you could either escape relatively unscathed or wind up flat on your back gasping for air. The teen wasn't above laughing at himself; he knew he could be an idiot.


Now she did, too, he guessed. His countenance and tone went deadpan for a second: “I'm glad my distress amuses you,” he pouted in mock hurt, before erupting into a light bout of laughter, shaking his head. “You made that look so easy, 's all. How long did you have to ride before that went away?” he wondered, offering the horse a very gentle, apologetic pat for the trouble before hurrying along. Between the humour and the exercise, he felt a little better—by the end of the block, his movements weren't nearly so awkward or uncomfortable.


Unfortunately, he hadn't been paying much attention to the stores. Her inquiry reminded him of their mission, and he blinked at one of the nearby store windows. An eyeless mannequin stared back at him and he shuddered. “No...” he trailed off quietly, glancing down the street. “Hey, what's that?” he said, his ears perking forward expectantly as he pointed down the street. The lettering had weathered away, but a large black disc logo still hung centred on one of the shop fronts. He understood this symbology to be associated with human music. As it would turn out, the record store itself wouldn't have anything useful to the two luperci—but music shop next door to it might.

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#5
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XD And now I’ve been browsing TV Tropes for so long for RP ideas that I’m actually using the term “berserk button.” Word Count: 525

The silver girl was glad Barrett didn’t take her mocking too seriously. Some wolves did, especially big tough guys with easily-wounded prides, and on more than a few occasions she had suffered from hitting their berserk button. Pixie admittedly judged people a lot by their sense of humor, and so the dark wolf automatically was favored in her eyes once she could see that he was as light-hearted as she was. And as much of a klutz as she could sometimes be. “D’aw, don’t make me feel sorry for you,” whimpered Pixie, grinning as she played along with Barry pretending to be offended.


“And did I really?” she asked. “Because that part’s pretty easy. But yeah, it does feel a little funny, dismounting a horse after you’ve been riding for a while. But I’ve been riding for almost as long as I could shift into two-legged form—it’s very natural for me.” She glanced and snickered at Magic, who glared at the boy as he patted the stallion but didn’t do any harm to him. “He was the first horse I learned to ride. I’ve traveled a lot and borrowed a few horses every now and then, but he’s the only one that’s stuck with me from the very beginning.” She glanced down at the palm of her hand; the mark had grown fainter and fainter as time went by, and some fur had grown over it, making it impossible for anyone but her to see it unless they stuck their face right in front of it.


She was about to go around the opposite corner when her companion pointed towards the opposite side of the street. Pixie had seen stores like that before; they were filled with shelves of circular disks contained in bright, artistic packages, often with pictures of humans on them, and supposedly these disks somehow could play music. She had no idea how such a thing could occur, but she wasn’t thinking to much about that now; she was too preoccupied with the store next to the one Barry was pointing to.


“Hey, that’s…that’s a violin!” she shouted, running towards the glass window. She recognized the guitar-like instrument because of Jazper showing his own violin to her. Pixie never really got the point of them—why would you make the strings practically screech with a stick when you could just lightly pluck them with your fingers?—but she knew that, where there were violins, there were bound to be guitars. Just from looking through the foggy, scratched-up glass, she could see various other instruments: a piano, a few clarinets, a whole set of drums…surely a guitar had to be somewhere in the mix.


“C’mon, let’s go inside!” she said, heading towards the door. But she soon realized that was much better said than done; she couldn’t get the door open, no matter how much she shoved at it or twisted the knob. It wasn’t locked, but it had somehow gotten slightly unhinged and was now stuck oddly into the frame. “Help me out here. It’s jammed, but if we both push hard enough, we might be able to push it down.”


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#6
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Slow zero is slow, but I saw you were on absence so I took my time :X And then I fell into a pit anyway XD I hope camp was awesome 8D #350

Perhaps all things were as cyclical as the seasons; perhaps it was inevitable that history repeat itself. The Collective already made significant strides towards modernisation in Barrett's short life, but the societies in Nova Scotia stood at the helm of such changes. Nobody back home kept livestock; nobody sought refuge in impressive haciendas like Inferni's D'Neville or Crimson Dreams' Haven Manor. Further west, the wolves were even more feral—and in Europe, they were more cultured. Maybe the tide of cultural change would sweep across America just as it had in the 17 and 1800's, when Man ruled the Earth. He wondered briefly where she was from—some place where clamouring atop the broad-backed beasts seemed as natural as walking—but he guessed it wasn't too far inland.


These thoughts melted away as they advanced on the music shop. He moved along after her, easily dodging bits of rubbish and broken glass that littered the street. His head tipped as he regarded the “violin” through the dusty window; he never saw one of those before. It looked like a squat guitar—but he would discover the difference quickly enough if he tried to replicate the same sounds with the same methods. There were other instruments he did not recognise inside, too, along with a couple he did. His gaze lingered longest on the steel drum set; it was so different from the wood and leather, Native American-esque variety typical in Taijitu. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice when the silver she-wolf moved away—but his ears pricked as she piped up and moved towards the door. It was stuck?


“Don't lie,” he joked, “you just missed cuddling up to me.” A laugh, since it was so delightfully ironic—he'd been the one clinging to her for dear life earlier. His tail swung impishly but he shrugged and came over as he was told, half-expecting to get smacked or something. He wriggled his way against the door beside her, which was certainly not wide enough for two luperci to comfortably stand abreast, and pointed his shoulder towards it. “Ready? One... two... three!”

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#7
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Haha yes, it was fun :3 Mild powerplay in that Barrett also pushed on the door, but that’s kind of a “well, duh” thing, isn’t it? Tongue Word Count: 528

Pixie smirked at Barrett’s joke. “Of course I do,” she said sarcastically. “Never mind the fact that you were the one cuddling me. But mainly I just need your help.” Normally she wouldn’t be in such a hurry, but she was eager to explore the music shop, and she wasn’t about to let some cocky young wolf delay her from doing so. Especially when this was his mission as well, to find a new guitar to play. They needed to help each other out if they were going to get home to Crimson Dreams by nightfall. Besides, she had been to Halifax a few times before, and every time she felt like not all the people who passed through here were friendly. That coyote she had met her first time in the city hadn’t seemed particularly nice, even if she did share her bottle of alcohol with the silver wolf. Pixie was surprised they even managed to have a relatively decent conversation, what with the coyote’s prejudice towards Pixie’s kind. Fortunately, as she had learned later, not all Inferni coyotes were like that. Still, that didn’t shake away her uneasiness about coming across any unfriendly canines in Halifax.


She had to lean up against the side of the doorframe as much as she could for Barry to squeeze in beside her, and even then they were uncomfortably squashed together. The silver fae was tactful enough to not address it, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible without causing any more awkwardness between the two of them. She nodded her head and muttered along with her companion’s countdown, using her whole body to push on the door with as much force as she could muster when he said “three.” With the combined strength of both of them, the old wooden frame gave way and, with a creak, fell through into the shop, hitting the floor with a crash and causing several large cracks to form on the wood.


“Hmm, that was easy enough,” she remarked, stepping gingerly into the shop and coughing a little at the large amount of dust that had risen into the air from the fallen door. “Wow—cough cough—look at this place.” Every service seemed to be covered with a least an inch of dust and dirt; cobwebs hung from every possible corner, and a nestful of spiders scurried across the decaying wooden floor, disturbed by the vibrations caused by the crash. As she walked around, she was careful not to step on any of the rusty nails that were scattered across the floor, while at the same time marveling at the rows of instruments that lined each wall. Seeing that there were no guitars among them, her eyes fell on a door at the back wall, leading to a room that was much darker due to the lack of light. Stepping over several broken violas on the floor, she reached up and brushed the dust that covered the sign above the door; her face lit up when she read the unmistakable words GUITAR ROOM.


“Looks like we’ve found what we’re looking for, Barry,” she said brightly, stepping into the room.


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#8
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@___@ Sorry about the delay. My schedule right now = FUBAR. His guitar will look like this, but right now it's covered in mad dust XD

Like a weary sentry, the door protested their efforts with a futile whine--but then it collapsed with a tormented roar, splintered and broken. Barry's ears flattened and the fur rose slightly along his spine. Being the first Luperci to enter an old human building always gave him a weird feeling he could neither place nor shake. It wasn't like coming home to the garage, a warm place meticulously reconstructed and preserved by three generations of his family. It wasn't like the mega-centres frequently ransacked by any and all passer-bys, either. It was more personal--it felt like more of a violation of something. Once upon a time, this had been a family business.


Still, these things resonated only deep within his subconscious; they were a kind of borderline-mystical connection to the sentient beings of the past. As Pixie stepped nonchalantly into the dusty room, the feeling subsided. It was replaced by a combination of excitement and irritation. Specifically to his nasal cavities, on the latter point: the door had launched a cloud of dust airborne, and he sneezed once, twice, thrice! to expel it from his nose. He waved a large black paw in front of his face to clear it, which seemed to help somewhat. The room smelt stale and dry. Hopefully they'd be able to locate suitable instruments quickly, since he didn't want to stay in here much longer than necessary.


Fortunately, Pixie was on the job. While he subdued his sinuses, she singled out the most likely spot to snag one or two of the sought-after stringed instruments. His tail swung behind him as he stepped in behind her. As in the main room, everything here was coated in a layer of lacklustre dust--and in this windowless pocket of the building, it was even harder to see. The teen fished around in his pants and produced a lighter, which cast a weak orange glow around the room. "Woah," he breathed. Something had caught his attention. A guitar with an unlikely checker-board pattern, peculiar because the squares were irregular in size and direction. Still holding the lighter in his right hand, he went to pull it from the wall with his left.

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