in the parish of space dust

Tlantli Kimaris · 01-22-2012, 11:28 AM

[html]

(404)
For the Clinic project. Tla and Miqui will scavenge any kind of metal tubs, buckets, dishes, etc. Forward dated to 22 January; Tla and Miqui are both Optime form.

Another Salsola member should be permitted to join before anyone else, thanks. Salsola members, you can assume your character has been traveling with Tlantli, or perhaps they've been stalking after her like a weirdo?

Tlantli is by Alaine!

The long and winding streets of the subdivision stretched before her. They were caked with dust. Most streets were in this day and age, of course, but these streets seemed worse, and the dust was of a peculiar red-brown color. Tlantli had no way of knowing the deforestation of this area to build the sudivision, with its cookie-cutter houses, had led to erosion and other such environmental damages, of which this reddish dust was an afterthought. She was aware of only the spooky half-finished houses rising from the flat plainsland. There were a few finished homes among these unfinished ruins, and these were worse than the completed buildings. Their broken and busted windows still held curtains -- tattered and full of holes but natheless curtains -- which caught the wind and billowed.

Tlantli shivered, but made no mention of her disquiet with this area to Miqui. Her strapping brother sat beside her on the horsecart's bench seat, his inexperienced hands still quite able to direct Trader, pacifist gelding he was. The dark man had spoken little since their departure, although Tlantli's sudden demand he accompany her to Halifax was met with a quirked brow and a quiet comment about her recent absence. Tlantli supposed this was the best one could hope for from her brother. Physically pleasing as Miqui was, she sometimes doubted there were any brains at all in his head. It would seem Mantus and his surrogate had allocated their brainpower to their palest daughter, leaving her siblings with nothing but rocks to rattle in their skulls.

The flaxen woman had her reasons for continuing to assist Salsola. The group was life, after all, and Tlantli could not yet depart this place. The travel wasn't right, and neither was the wind -- not the one blowing in the trees, but the one she heard whispering in the pre-dawn and dusk, the voice of Momoztli himself, perhaps. This voice told her that her time in Salsola was not yet finished, and so she must stay. The straw-colored woman murmured quietly to Miqui in Spanish, to which he replied with nothing more than a grunt. Tlantli frowned and turned back toward the scenery, trying not to let the jostle of the cart disturb her greatly. She did not like riding in this apparatus, but they must gather supplies for this new clinic, and so it was a necessary evil.

Salvia Eternity · 01-22-2012, 12:12 PM

[html]

647

The work with the pony was progressing quickly. Salvia had been quick to realize he would not take a rider; he was too small for a Luperci, even one as lithe as herself. Therefore, she had begun working on him in other ways—with her father’s advice, she had fashioned a light rope harness and begun having the pony wear it constantly. While he initially despised the thing, over time, his agitation lessened. She was breaking him slowly, and confident that by spring he would be able to help with lesser tasks; plowing the garden, for example. That would require making a plow, but she was less concerned about that. Someone who understood such concepts could deal with the fine details. Salvia’s purpose was within the horse-care and the animals as a whole.

She had mentioned this to her father, and he had admitted that he would not return to his duties. By behaving more as a trader and spending more and more time with his younger children, Larkspur lost much of the free time he had had. His daughter absorbed his teachings in earnest, and saw that the growing numbers of the contained animals was not enough. While the herd was allowed to run free during, under the careful eye of the mare Siv owned, they were always corralled at dusk and kept inside at night. Black’s absence was noted; she was hopeful her brother would not tarry long with him come spring.

As was usual, given that her own colt was yet too small to ride, Salvia took Misty. She intended to find more of the things her father had mentioned; tools for expanding the barn. It was too cold for digging, but by summer they could begin. With samples in the pouch on her hip and the woven belt around her waist, she rode out from the borders. The girl’s familiarity with the nearby landscape allowed her to avoid Inferni completely, trusting in Misty’s feet to carry them over the slightly rocky terrain. She swung wide, brushing near Anathema’s borders, and noted a black and white crow watching her with sharp intent. This was later dismissed as she turned south and quickened her pace.

She found, surprisingly, that another trail was cut through the snow. It seemed odd to her until she caught the scent of horse-dung and identified it with one of their own. Someone had one of the carts out, it seemed. Of course her missing this was not peculiar; the carts were stored elsewhere, for there was nothing to protect them at the barn. This too, would need altered. If they could construct something to hide the carts it would keep things easier—luckily, the sheep were the easiest of all. Between their free-roaming days they were kept in a corral with a singular lean-to. They did not need more; sheep were less valuable then horses.

After perhaps half an hour or so she finally caught sight of the cart. A golden woman was seated in the back, and Salvia’s eyes widened to the point that the fine black ring around her acidic green was revealed. Tlanti? She had seen neither hide nor hair of the woman since her self-imposed exile (within, of course) and was startled now that she was out. Salvia squeezed her legs and urged Misty into a canter, closing the distance shortly. She gave the mare back her head, slowing to the pace of the cart, and looked to her aunt with puzzled but excited eyes. “Tía buena tarde”. Though she had been taught Spanish young, her pronunciation was still not that of a true native. She enounced various sounds harder than should have been, as she was first versed in German. This showed, especially around these native speakers. Salvia completely ignored Miqui for the moment—he was less important to her, an add-on to Tlanti’s existence.

Tlantli Kimaris · 01-22-2012, 01:14 PM

[html]

(444)

Tlantli is by Nat!

The steady clatter of horse hooves against the ground caught Tlantli's ears, and she twisted around in her seat. Miqui also stirred, turning to look at his sister rather than behind them. The dusky male murmured to Tlantli, who shook her head sharply, listening to the beating of hoofs. She was not certain, but she thought she knew those hooves. Nevertheless, she felt rather than saw Miqui's readiness. The horses slowed, no longer urged by the motions of the male Luperci's hands, but continued onward at a more leisurely place.

Tlantli, on the other hand, did not ready herself; rather, she waited, and a familiar figure on a familiar horse soon came to her sights. The tawny woman thought this was as good an omen as any -- Salsola had sent one of the few canines she actually liked along after her. Tlantli was not sure whether to grin or grimace when she realized her folly. Salvia hadn't been sent after her to insure safety or success -- she and Miqui were but two peons of the pack. It was not as if The Crone was leaving Drifter Bay, after all.

Although there was no reverence in her niece's greeting, Tlantli returned it with a smile all the same, razor-sharp canines showing clearly against the black of her lips. And yourself, she returned, the Spanish flowing from her tongue more natural there than on Salvia's, but perhaps less earnest. We scavenge for Odessa's clinic, the woman said, continuing in her native tongue. Salsola's clinic, she corrected. The mistake and correction were altogether casual, but it was perhaps all too evident of the change within Tlantli; when she had served as the Crone, such a mistake never would have passed her tongue, no matter the language.

I thought if we did not find what we need here, the woman began, twisting back in the seat to look forward in the seat again, then back to Salvia. Maybe we can see this festival? The idea had dangled on Tlantli's mind since departing Salsola, but she dared not propose it to Miqui. Her brother would only calmly agree, regardless of what Tlantli proposed. The red-eyed woman thought Salvia would provide a much better sounding board for this idea; her mind was, after all, immeasurably sharper than Miqui's, natheless her poor parentage. Neither Tlantli nor Miqui smelled of Salsola, but Tlantli hardly thought the idea needed vocalizing to Salvia. Though the ocean bath was brief, the scents used afterward were strong, and most unfamiliar with Salsola would not be able to peg either of the coyotes for members.

Salvia Eternity · 01-26-2012, 11:38 AM

[html]

(386)

The level of loyalty within the blonde girl was unquestionable. She followed no orders but those of her Hunter King, her uncle. Sirius could have asked her to turn on her own family and she would have done so willingly—save Pandemic, who held her trust above all others. If she had come to chase down the Mexican woman, it would have been with nothing more than the obedient mindset of a soldier. She was this, after all, and her mettle was undisputed. Since childhood her entire purpose had been warped within the claws of the Thistle King. Despite her fury, despite the tiger that lingered under her flesh, she was chained by vines and invisible strings woven by his words.

It was only coincidence she would find these two. Salvia had never even considered that Tlanti would consider leaving Salsola. She was so caught up within its laws that the thought of a Family member breaking them did not occur.

Though the proper meeting could not go on, Salvia smiled broadly. She was proud of her achievements within the pack; even now, she held rank above both of these elder members. What occurred behind closed doors was lost on her—but she knew that Tlanti had lost the faith once held by their pack. Perhaps it was some sort of magic; these things were lost on the girl. Magic belonged to her mother and to those who existed within such a realm. Salvia was primal, feral, made of the earth and the wildness within her instincts.

Salvia noted but did not comment on the mistake, and nodded smartly. The sharp glint in her eye returned at the mention of the festival. “I don’t think that would be wise,” she said, a frown crossing her features. “You and he have notable scars—if we find something to cover ourselves, we might. We can’t risk someone recognizing us.” Even her mother donned a disguise when she left the lands. “But I will help you look. I need the same things for the barn,” she added, her own Spanish flowing from a non-native tongue. The horse under her snorted, tossing its head. Salvia looked around sharply, as if this might indicate that they were being watched; when she saw and scented nothing, her gaze returned to her aunt.

Tlantli Kimaris · 01-26-2012, 12:40 PM

[html]

(450)

The flaxen woman rolled one scarred shoulder at Salvia's dismissal at the idea, and she contented herself with the city. What changes need to happen with the barn? You know I have been... indisposed, the coyote said, choosing her words carefully. It had been more than an indisposition, of course, but Tlantli would share this knowledge with no one. Her own stone-colored brother least of all, and the child of the Auxiliary, little Boss herself? Never. As much as Tlantli liked Salvia, the honey-colored woman did not mistake the timberwolf's affection for anything close to loyalty. Perhaps she had before, but those dark months had sharpened her eyes to the same finely-hewn razor edge as her teeth.

Expansions, Miqui cut in, the word rumbling in his deep baritone voice. His Spanish was quicker than his English, and he felt comfortable with these two women, speaking in his native tongue. More stables, more corrals. More horses, maybe? The mud-colored coyote shrugged his broad shoulders, falling silent as he looked -- respectfully, and without meeting her eyes -- toward the blonde coyote riding on her own horse. Tlantli regarded Miqui with her crimson gaze, considering him. She did not know if her brother would ever return to Eterne. He seemed to be very comfortable within Salsola, and was far more comfortable here than he had ever seemed within Anathema. She knew her brother's mettle well enough to say so, at least. Few others could boast such empathy with Miqui, but perhaps it was because Tlantli had been raised with him.

The cart bumped along and Miqui directed them around a heap of an old car, which caught Tlantli's eye for the black metal and orange-red rust coating its skeleton. All other recognizable features had been burned or blasted away by time or fire. The rise of the tall buildings in downtown Halifax was still a good distance away, but even out here in suburbia one might find treasures. Tlantli peered eagerly toward the rows of completed houses looming in the distance, the end of this development wasteland.

The caramel-furred coyote cocked an ear and listened, and heard nothing but the bump and squeak of the cart as they moved. She did not wish to be ambushed by anyone else out here, though it was unlikely anyone would approach from the rear, as it had been Salvia's direction of travel. They were well-outfitted for just such a case -- Miqui was a proven fighter, and Tlantli herself could hold her own against Miqui. Salvia was, as they said, a tiger in wolf's clothing, and Tlantli did not doubt her prowess for a moment.

Tlantli is by Kitty!

Salvia Eternity · 02-05-2012, 03:00 PM

[html]

Indisposed. Salvia had been unsure of what illness had kept her aunt so detached from the rest of the Family, but she knew better than to ask. It was a breach of confidence and one she would not break, even though rank allowed such a thing. The blonde girl respected her aunt enough to grant her the secrecy expected. While Tlanti was no longer the Crone, she still commanded enough respect for the girl to honor her in that way. It would not change her loyalty to Sirius or her objection to journeying to the trade-place without disguise, but who knew? Maybe they would find something to do so.

The male spoke quickly, explaining what Salvia was already thinking. She nodded to his words. “Many of the horses are with foal,” she explained. “By spring we’ll have a whole herd of babies running around,” the girl added, snorting through her nose. “The sheep will drop lambs as well; there’s much to do before the weather gets warm.” With any luck, she would not do so alone. Her father could aid her, as could Miqui and the other members used to construction. Lilya had a good eye for such a thing, so perhaps she could be of use as well.

As the trio entered the area, Salvia sniffed the air quickly. She knew that the scents of the place were often muddled, but none were fresh in this cold air. The girl quickened her horse into a trot and moved ahead, scouting the area quickly. This method of behavior was one she was used to; once satisfied they were alone she doubled back and returned to her position at the flank of the cart.

Tlantli Kimaris · 02-06-2012, 06:11 PM

[html]

Tlantli is by Alaine!

Salvia was mercifully quiet on the subject of Tlantli's absence, and the flaxen coyote was glad for this. At least she still garnered some respect in Salsola. Instead, the blonde-furred Confidant agreed with Miqui's words, explaining more about the livestock than Tlantli herself knew. The woman nodded, having little experience with horses and sheep. Neither Tlantli or Miqui saw reason to respond to Salvia beyond a nod, and the pale-furred daughter of their leader gave her horse a lead ahead of the cart.

Tlantli watched as the tawny woman scouted ahead of their cart. Here, the houses were all complete. Many of the homes, squat and low-slung single homes, were still in decent condition, though Tlantli saw a collapsed porch or roof here and there. Some of the larger, two-story homes were in greater states of disrepair -- their larger facade meant more to maintain, and they showed the years' wear and tear far more than the single-story homes.

Salvia returned to the cart, and Tlantli peered around, shrugging. This is as good a place to stop as any, no? she said, the Spanish rolling off of her tongue. Maybe Salvia and I can go in, and you stay by the cart and horse, Miqui? she suggested, not wishing to leave their horseflesh and cart unattended.

Salvia Eternity · 02-08-2012, 03:25 PM

[html]

Scouting was not a job left to one party alone. True enough, Magnolia and Denver were dedicated to the eradication of threats, but Salsola was guarded day and night by its members. Salvia herself was used to patrols and carried them on during the day. Darker shadows, like her own father, filled the gaps at night. Alternating as they did it was rare threats got through—the incident earlier in the month had been cause for concern, though the truth of the matter was that the singular threat had been eliminated. No pack had risen arms against them, only a woman with a grudge.

The suggestion from the coyote was met with a nod from Salvia, who dismounted fluidly. She looped the reins around the end of the cart, ensuring Misty would not wander off, and then turned to look at the houses around them. Rotting corpses of the world of men, she imagined, and looked for the signs of safety. Areas that had damage were significantly more dangerous; wood structures rotted easily, but she was wary of stone equally as much. Salvia took several steps forward, pacing to and fro as she considered each possible threat. Finally, she settled on a ranch-style house whose windows were boarded up. “How about that one?” She asked, motioning to it.

Tlantli Kimaris · 02-11-2012, 12:31 AM

[html]

(481)

Tlantli is by Alaine!

Tlantli remained seated in the front of the wagon, turning to watch Salvia as she paced about. The flaxen coyote thought the other female's movements rather fluid and feline, and her crimson gaze was appreciative as she peered upon her false niece. There was no animosity within the Family member for Salvia, but she was perceptive enough to realize Sal was little more than a cog in the machine. Salvia was properly indoctrinated with Salsola and its culture -- there was loyalty, machinelike and glinting metallic, within Salvia. Tlantli very nearly pitied her niece. She would never stand tall within Salsola, at least not as long as her mother stood at the forefront of the pack. Salvia was doomed to remain the simple cog she was, Tlantli thought. Then again, if it brought Salvia peace and purpose, it was of no concern to the yellow-furred coyote. She did not seek to dismantle Salsola; her escape was for her tindividual self, not a mission to liberate every washer and screw. She did not want Salsola to fall to pieces, after all -- Tlantli was indifferent as to the fate of this place of salt and rock.

Salvia returned and pointed out a home. Tlantli nodded, stepping gingerly down from the gave. Miqui grinned a rare smile, and called in Spanish, promising to keep good care of the horses and cart. Tlantli stalked away from him without turning back; instead, she simply flicked her ears in his direction and continued toward the chosen house. The low-slung rancher was in good condition, though Tlantli saw a sagging part of the porch roof, likely to be a full-blown hole by the year's turn. For now, though, it would certainly hold. She stepped down the cracked and crumbling sidewalk toward the overgrown porch. One of the bushes had started to grow inside the front window, and snaking vines wrapped around the northern face of the house, beginning to overtake the front facade as well. Tlantli set a foot on the concrete porch, testing its strength. Nothing happened, and so the woman stepped fully onto the porch, walking toward the door. She tried the handle with a clawed yellow hand, turning it.

To her surprise, the knob turned easily and the oaken door swung wide, exposing the dusty innards of the house to her. The carpet, once a color of pale gray, was streaked black and brown in some places, evidence of mold and dirt within the home. There was no musty smell, however, for the windows were all broken wide open, allowing the fresh air to permeate through the house. Surely there would be some dank corners, but the place simply smelled faintly of oldness, lacking any severe stink of rot. Tlantli was glad for that, and she stepped aside for Salvia, saying nothing as her red eyes surveyed the house's innards.

Salvia Eternity · 02-12-2012, 03:59 PM

[html]

From a young age, Salvia had been conditioned for her role in life. She was naturally domineering; she had the drive and the savagery within her to rule, but without discipline, she was a simple savage. The blonde girl had learned her role in the world and how to function within it. The strength of Salsola was the strength of its members, and she would not allow weakness to come from her. Definitions and regulations were being set in place by Salvia herself, in order to better her behavior and position within the pack.

Thus, while her role was yet restricted, it was one by need. Without checks and balances the nuclear possibilities with her would certainly rise and make her into a beast uncontrollable. She would become the dead man who was her namesake, and then destroy herself.

Salvia trailed behind her supposed-aunt, her movements cautious but fearless. She had worked hard to eliminate the need for fear, though it was a natural thing she still felt at odds with. Green eyes trailed over the area, assessing possible areas for threats, possible routes for escape. The wolf stilled as Tlanti pushed open the door, and then let her focus trail inside. Despite her very real capabilities in the two-legged form, Salvia still relied upon on her base skills. Scent was one of these; she inhaled the air sharply, taking in the dry smell and noting that there was little to cause alarm. No animals lived within, or if they were, certainly not recently.

She stepped inside, swiveling her head to and fro, scenting and using sharply tuned senses to take in the building. Silently she advanced, moving forward to allow Tlanti room to join her.

Tlantli Kimaris · 02-14-2012, 02:18 AM

[html]

(584)

Tlantli is by me!

Tlantli did not have a particularly deep understanding of human culture. She was not capable of reading English; reading in Spanish was difficult enough. Books and other such snapshots of this long-dead culture were therefore entirely unfamiliar to her, and she peered curiously around the room, looking over the rotted remains of a couch. It had once been pretty, its cloth formerly some shade of pale blue. Now, it had fallen to pieces with the steady advance of years, and its pale blue was stained and streaked with darkness.

A box sat in another corner of the room, knobs and buttons to one side of a dusty center screen with a jagged crack through its middle. Tlantli looked at this for a moment, pondering its purpose. Perhaps she would have been amazed to know moving pictures were once broadcast on this device. More than likely, she would have given it momentary interest and dismissed it as a device of distraction. The yellow-haired woman looked to the roon's decor. In one corner, a pale rectangle on the wall indicated a wall-hanging, though where it had gone, Tlantli did not know. Frowning, the woman stepped past Salvia, moving slowly toward the wall.

Maybe someone has been here before us, she commented, seeing no sign of a hanging large enough to create such a shape. It had certainly hung here for years to keep this part of the wall looking newer than the surrounding sheetrock. Perhaps they were only after decoration, though, and we will still find something. Tlantli was optimistic, for little else seemed amiss in the house. A painting or hanging was a strange thing to take, she thought, but then again -- canines had all sorts of strange tastes, made even stranger by the influences of human technology and culture.

The pale coyote stepped into another room, passing from Salvia's vision. This room was small and had only one entryway. The walls were made of blue tile, a deep azure like the ocean for the bottom half of the room, with a paler sky color on the top half. A runner of white separated these colors, though the white had long gone to graying yellow. The surfaces of the room were sturdy and seemed to be constructed of some kind of stone, smooth and cold to the touch. Tlantli bent to open a cabinet, finding only moth-eaten towels and the shredded, melted remnants of what could have been paper.

She found nothing of value in the cabinets and was about to leave the room when she spied a metal bin in the corner of it. Moving forward, she picked it up, dumping the contents -- a disintegrating plastic bag and more shredded, feather-light paper garbage -- onto the ground. The hybrid inspected the container and, shiny stainless steel with a rounded lip on the wider open end. The body of the cylinder itself was ribbed, the occasional thin line raised from the otherwise smooth metal allowing for easy grip. Pleased with her find, Tlantli walked from the room and moved to set the re-purposed trash can by the door so she might take it when they were done.

Curious to see Salvia's progress, she moved after the coyote's scent, following it to the blonde woman's location. Did you find anything useful? she asked, still speaking in Spanish, as was her habit. Perhaps there was something that would require both women's strength to pull from the house.

Salvia Eternity · 02-14-2012, 05:00 PM

[html]

(397)

The wolf had an interest in humans but only to a point; they had produced trinkets and used skills that were previously unheard of to their brethren. Now, with years of intelligence passed down through the virus’ growth and mutation, prodigies came forth in most unusual ways. Salvia was among them; she was terribly intelligent and this was due largely in part to the skepticism she followed and the way she had been raised. By doubting everything—her parents, her leaders, her faith—the girl had been able to form the basis for a mind that did not know the word hypothesis but lived by its meaning. Had she any interaction with the realms of science, she might have found her world very different.

As it stood, though, Salvia had no patience for reading or writing and only an ear and a tongue that worked with this great skill. She was fluent in three languages and nearing a forth; Rowan had begun teaching her French over the last year and its similarity to Spanish allowed for an easy advancement. This was an advantage for trips like the one she had made to Freetown; with a careful ear she could make out a swindler or find a man worthy of trade. Next time she would focus on these things.

Her own feet moved towards the back of the house, and it was here she found a larger room. Wooden cabinets formed a half-squared border both top and bottom, and a central island made up the majority of this space. A secondary door was located in this room, and Salvia tested it gingerly. This one pulled inward, revealing a backyard overgrown…save for an interesting shape she recognized as familiar to their own storage shed.

Before she made to advance, though, she began investigating the other cabinets. Ruined plastic objects and harsh smells drew her away from a section under a yellowish stone indentation, and continued her search. A few cast-iron pans were pulled out and placed on the central area, and Salvia regarded and dismissed a set of rusting knives. She was knocking aside old plastic containers of dead leaves when Tlanti’s voice and shadow crossed her vision. “Not much in here,” she admitted, though motioned to the pans. “I think there’s a storage area out there, though,” the girl motioned to the door and the fenced realm beyond.

Tlantli Kimaris · 02-15-2012, 05:18 AM

[html]

(331)

Tlantli is by Nat!

The honey-furred coyote nodded in response, though she stood behind Salvia and was not visible. Her movement forward was perhaps enough of an answer, however. The rear door of the house was wide open, hanging half off its hinges outside of the kitchen. The backyard was just as overgrown as the front yard. What might have once been a child's wooden playset sat rotting near the house, completely overtaken by underbrush. Tlantli imagined the backyard must be an explosion of greenery in summer; in winter's dead and bare cloak, it seemed almost foreboding.

Tlantli glanced to the overcast sky before stepping out and heading toward the hunkering shed. It was made of metal and though rusting and in severe need of a paint job, it might stand tall another ten years before collapsing. The thin metal door creaked and the whole structure swayed when she shoved the sliding door open, but it held. Tlantli paused a moment to ascertain the soundness of the shed before proceeding into its dim innards. The sharp, chemical smell of old fuel greeted her, though it was so faint surely all was dried to nothing by now. A machine with a large engine and a red body, with handlebars that seemed designed for pushing, sat in her way.

Tlantli grabbed the handlebars and pulled. With more creaks and groans, the wheels spun backward and the strange machine-cart moved. One of the wheels was utterly stuck in its position and made moving the cart harder but not altogether impossible. Tlantli shoved it to the side, turning to have a look back at Salvia. She hadn't taken much stock in the other things within the shed, but now with the machine-cart out of the way, they could have a better look inside. They must be careful not to vilipend anything of value -- the cart made for easy transportation, and the opportunities for such ventures would be hard to come by in winter.

Salvia Eternity · 02-16-2012, 05:25 PM

[html]

I have to say I love how you do descriptions without naming exactly what things are. :>

The wolf followed the sand-colored woman quietly, her own steps lithe and nearly cat-like in their grace. Despite her size the sheer arrogance of her step allowed for such flawless behavior, broken only by the instances of slowing and sharp glances to ensure they were alone. The attack on Salsola had left Salvia more cautious, but not without just cause. Her confidence was not at all touched—she had survived three fights in her young life and knew herself to be more than capable. Tlanti, too, was a warrior—and Salvia had seen this long before the attack, when she had first begun training. Now that her style had evolved, she trained alone and often; it was nearing perfection.

Before them rose the metal shed and Salvia stiffened at the sharp noise of metal against metal. She remained still and silent as the peculiar thing was pushed out. Sidestepping, Salvia followed the other woman into the small area. Quickly she assessed the objects around them—several rotting remains of cardboard clung here and there, and a collection of spider webs blanketed the ceiling. She was quite interested in a low bench, on which a metal object sat. After touching it cautiously, she began to pull at the handle of the thing. To her surprise, while slightly rusted and stiff, one side of this thing moved towards the other. It was attached to the table, she quickly realized, and tugged once before conceding.

In doing so, however, she heard the tell-tale jingle of metal. Dropping to a squat, she pulled open a rusting drawer and found a plethora of nails, screws, and various other objects she was certain were used for construction.

Tlantli Kimaris · 02-17-2012, 05:55 AM

[html]

(423) Aaaah, I might've overused technique, though -- didn't even realize I did it twice in one thread. @_@ But it's funny, yeah -- why would she know wtf these things are used for? XD Especially a Luperci not concerned with human culture/not a reader! I love your face. :3 Also -- they should find a clawfoot tub in one of these houses? c; Kinda powerplayed Salvia agreeing to move on; let me know if I need to edit, and I'll chop the last bits out.

The shed, possessing even less protection than the inside of the house, was more ramshackle. The dirt floor had few weeds and no grass, however -- with no sunlight, nothing would grow. Tlantli knew this instinctively -- the sun had not shone in here for many years, and now that they'd left the door open, the plants could reclaim this space as their own.

Salvia occupied herself with a bench, while Tlantli moved deeper into the small building, kicking gently at the disintegrating cardboard with one clawed foot. A box less exploded and more wilted with even that small impact, revealing only moth-eaten rags. A few bugs scurried away from her as she leaned over the box, poking with one tentative finger through the rags. Humans had kept sharp things in all manner of strange spaces, and she did not wish to lose a finger.

The clink and tinkle of small metal bits caught her ears' attention, however, and she soon stood, convinced there was nothing of value in the corner pile. The woman turned her crimson gaze back toward her niece and peered over approvingly. Good find, she said, rather simply, before turning back to looking over the remaining contents of the shed. The far corner was a tangle of unidentifiable metals and plastics, likely melted together with the summer's heat. Tlantli figured they wouldn't find much else in here, and as the space was not so large, she slid past the woman and peered around the backyard.

Her big coyote's ears flickered and listened to the sounds of the world. She heard no approaches, which was good -- they had come across items of small value, and while they were not irreplaceable, Tlantli did not wish for some tramontane to happen along and ruin what they'd accomplished. To be sure, there was more to gain here, but there was no sense starting over. Tlantli was confident in the combined abilities of herself, Salvia, and Miqui to defend their goods, though.

I am going to the next promising house -- I'll give the bucket to Miqui. Tlantli didn't think there was much doubt in Salvia following along, but she waited a moment anyway, only moving to the house when it seemed the blonde coyote would follow. She moved back through the house, leaning to grab her find so she might bring it to Miqui and the cart. When she stepped through the front door and towards him, he smiled and said nothing, nodding idle approval at the items.

Tlantli is by Kitty!

Salvia Eternity · 02-17-2012, 02:04 PM

[html]

(301) ooh that could be fun. Using a handicapped-modified house so it's likely we can better find it on the first floor.

Salvia was ultimately pleased by her quarry. The metal trinkets would aid in construction of both the medical area and her own barn (by which was Salsola’s barn, but having all but assumed the duties of her father she considered it her own). Tlanti’s words drifted back to a set of triangular, small black ears, and Salvia nodded at her words. With a grunt she pulled free the drawer and hoisted it across her belly. While it was not heavy, it was of an awkward shape and difficult to position. Once satisfied with its position, she moved after Tlanti.

The wolf paused once more to pick up the pans and put these in her drawer. While weighty, Salvia was impressively strong and able to carry it back to Miqui. She placed her treasure in the back of the cart, paused momentarily to look over the horse, and then continued on her way. A neighboring house was further destroyed, but one beyond it seemed adequate, it of a different style than that of the previous two. With a secondary floor relatively intact, she wondered at the sight of it before noting the brick porch and surmising it was made of stone.

A ramp led up to the porch, and a faded blue marker was painted at the border between the street and the sidewalk. Curious as it was, Salvia did not notice and instead moved up the ramp and towards the door. A single sharp thrust with her shoulder forced it open, and the scent of dry rot and other oddities floated down from the building. It was cold inside; almost more cold indoors than out. Had she understood the properties of brick she would have known this was the culprit, but her world was yet simple and ignorant of such things.

Tlantli Kimaris · 02-18-2012, 05:08 AM

[html]

(618)
I forgot which horse they have out on the cart. ._.;; Guess I assume it's Trader. Also, another idea -- plastic-sheeted furniture. SUP BRO. Could even probably find a mattress done up like that!

Tlantli is by Alaine!

Tlantli followed after her niece toward the next house, her sanguine eyes studying the more wrecked neighbor house. Its front porch had collapsed almost entirely, the once-white trellis enclosure having collapsed entirely. Jagged boards also stuck up from within the porch, nearly touching the sagged roof. Tlantli was certain a hard push from the right direction would send most of the remaining structure tumbling down. Perhaps there was a back way into the house, but the flaxen-haired coyote did not wish to risk entering such a potentially unsound structure, and it seemed Salvia felt the same, for they moved past this house and onto the next.

The one they chose was higher than either of the previous two houses, but it stood tall and seemed solid. The coyote saw the interlaced brick facade of the building and wondered at it a moment. There was a squeak and bump behind her, followed by the sounds of moving horses. Miqui directed the wagon casually down the street, rolling at a snail's pace to stop just before the house Salvia chose as their next target. The buckskin horse shook his head and whisked his tail, turning his snout to peer at the riderless mare tethered to the cart. Tlantli turned away from her brother and their equines and toward Salvia, watching as she broke through the door. This house had been more well-sealed than the previous, and Tla's muzzle was greeted with the sour scent of old, strangely cool air.

Still, she was not bothered by such things, and so the yellow-furred canine stepped in behind Salvia, peering around the house. The queer design of the outer facade extended inside. Tlantli saw a fireplace, tilting her head at its design. She took a few steps toward it, hunkering down low to look over it. From what she saw, there was a stack extending outside of the building for the smoke. She would not be surprised if it was totally clogged, however -- crumbling leaves and other debris decorated the sooty inside of the fireplace, evidence of some kind of blockage further up the shaft.

They certainly couldn't take a fireplace, but Tlantli still made note of its design, pondering if they might imitate it someday. The clinic was to be a wooden building, and it would not do to have it burn -- but a warm fire would be good for the sickly and weak, especially in the colder months. Tlantli contemplated this no more, and instead peered around the room. The seats in this place were strange, covered with transparent sheeting that clung tightly to the furniture. She stepped toward it and tore at the sheeting with a claw, careful to position her nail so it would cut only the plastic and not the couch beneath. She sliced a long slit into it and pulled back on the sheeting, tearing it further as she pulled.

Salvia, she called, unsure if the woman had moved to another room or stood right beside her. This furniture -- it seems in very good order. The honey-furred canine was not absolutely certain of the purpose of covering furniture with the transparent stuff, but it was well-sealed and seemed to have kept mold, bugs, and dirt from destroying the decor of this room. The couch Tlantli had opened could seat three Luperci, and she saw a smaller couch, perhaps fit for two, and a single seat. Perhaps there were other rooms of this house with similar furniture -- they might even have to make a return trip, if Salvia dubbed the items useful. Tlantli thought they were -- even if not for the clinic, certainly someone in Salsola might want them.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?