We need to be out of control. We crave it.
#1
[html]

Word Count → 265 :: Yey! Erin stinks at starting threads! XD

Ever since the first night she had come to the festival with the other occupants of Hillsburn, the Grecian had been drawn back here. It wasn't exactly like walking around a bustling trading port, but it was the closest she was like to get for now. Ariadne wasn't often a creature of sentiment, but she did miss her life on the trading galley. She missed the open sea air and joking with the rest of the crew and haggling with other traders about their wares whenever they made port. This quaint little festival made it feel like she wasn't so very far away from what her life had been—it helped to dull the ache.


The problem, though, was that thrice-damned Damianos had barely left her with anything and so she really didn't have anything with which to trade. Surely she could get some good items for her jewelry, but that'd be the equivalent of chopping off her hair or her tail as far as the Cretan was concerned. Especially her necklace. Someone would have to steal that from her corpse for she would never part with it willingly.


So while the bustle and crowd was a comfort, the trader in her itched to be making deals and bargains and she was painfully ill-equipped for anything of the sort. This was especially disappointing when she came upon a stand littered with jewelry, beads, and other such shiny objects. Glimmering things were undeniably one of Ari's vices and she looked wistfully at the vendor's wars, chocolate-dipped fingers fiddling with the golden snake adornment on her arm.

<style>
.ariadne1 {margin:0 auto; width:450px; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/wl3By.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:14px; text-align:justify;}
.ariadne1 p.ooc {font-style:italic; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:12px; text-align:justify; text-indent:0px; padding:0px 5px;}
.ariadne1 p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;}
.ariadne1 .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#926e00;}
.ariadne1 p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding:10px 5px;}
.ariadne1 b {color:#926e00; letter-spacing:1px; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:-.06em;}
</style>
[/html]
#2
[html] yay!! <333


The dagger was wrapped neatly in the thick cloth, and the male fought the urge to open the folds and look at the ornate handle once more. He could hardly believe that it belonged to him, that the prey he had hunted could be traded for something so beautiful and so deadly. The fabric saved him from stabbing himself, and he placed it nondescriptly under his arm. He would need a belt, or sheath for the pointed weapon. But for now, he would keep it tucked there so others simply thought it was a bundle of whatever their imagination could conjure.


All the canines gathered in a single place had overwhelmed his dear mother, but the male was slightly invigorated by the crowd. There was a buzz, a vibration that he had never experienced. Blue eyes looked to and fro, black nose trying to find all of the different packs, the different places from which they originated. It was indeed a lot for the senses to take in and process. Thankfully his mother had decided to head back to the pack land immediately, and she wished to go alone. Oak asked to escort her, of course. But she had denied his request, and Oak couldn’t have been more grateful.


The rusty and obsidian hued male looked at just about every display, and spoke to many of the merchants about their trade and where they hailed from. He wore a smile as he spoke his thanks and his goodbyes to each of them, and noticed that a few wore a bit of a frown when he showed no interest in trading the mysterious article beneath his arm. He moved with the flow of the crowd, moving to the neck table. It held mostly trinkets that glimmered rather then weapons or tools. Such things did not catch his interest greatly and so the Dreaming Plebeian turned to move on it was then that a wide-set red shoulder caught itself on a smaller version belonging to another creature, bumping with a bit of force.


Oh, excuse me Miss. Oak spoke, his polite apology almost mindless and habit. He turned to look at the face of the female and paused, stopping in mid stride.

[/html]
#3
[html]

Word Count → 317 :: I've unofficially decided that Howlin' For You by The Black Keys should be their song lulz

Ariadne continued to linger in front of the stand and the vendor began to give her an annoyed look. While the trader in her could appreciate his sentiment, she did not like being reminded of her feeble position in these strange lands. Molten gold eyes shot up to the man with a withering look and, taken aback, he focused his attention elsewhere. Some may have been annoyed if people so often mistook their personality to match their appearance, but it was a weapon the Grecian took full advantage of. People expected the waify hybrid to be demure. Ari had learned well how to use others surprise at her actions and words against them. Strangers learned quickly that the woman was not one to be trifled with.


Her attention was so fully focused on the shiny merchandise laid out before her that she was paying no attention to the various other bodies around her. A bit of jostling around just came with the territory of markets. That didn't prepare her when a large shoulder bumped into her and sent her stumbling a few steps. Even with the quickly uttered apology, Ariadne turned with furrowed brows and frown—who was this bumbling oaf? However, when she caught sight of the man she couldn't say her eyes were disappointed with what they saw. Well, well, he was a handsome one, wasn't he? If she was going to be bumped into, at least it was by someone attractive.


From the way he was looking at her, clearly he was having similar thoughts about her. She was, of course, used to this. The woman was a fine specimen, if she did say so herself. One hand effortlessly tossed her chocolate locks back and her face had softened from its initial look of displeasure. "Well, since you apologized I suppose I won't submit you to a tongue-lashing," she said in her accented tones.

<style>
.ariadne1 {margin:0 auto; width:450px; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/wl3By.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:14px; text-align:justify;}
.ariadne1 p.ooc {font-style:italic; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:12px; text-align:justify; text-indent:0px; padding:0px 5px;}
.ariadne1 p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;}
.ariadne1 .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#926e00;}
.ariadne1 p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding:10px 5px;}
.ariadne1 b {color:#926e00; letter-spacing:1px; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:-.06em;}
</style>
[/html]
#4
[html] lmao!


Oak watched as he woke the woman with a start. His apology was far from what was appropriate, for the female spoke it in her gold orbs. He saw a predatory stare, fierce and a bit intimidating as she gathered herself and then spoke her reply. Oak had thought to say he was sorry once again, but then he fought to untangle her words from her thick accented tongue. It capped the exotic look each golden and pointed detail gave her. It brought a smile to his face, small and a bit lopsided for her new better then to grin sloppily at any female. The crowd moved around them, the gentle jostling of the other’s momentum making him take a step closer simply to give the beast’s that paused to look at the table a bit more room.


A tongue-lashing? She looked exotic and glittered with gold but her size did not make for much of a match. Besides he could see that her whole heart was not in the task simply by the way she looked at him. Blue eyes looked down, catching another glance at the jewels and replied, Well, I thank you Miss. I would have had to buy your forgiveness, and I know I can not afford to. Oak said with a bit of a chuckle. Trinkets and bojangles were not things that he, or his family, where used to. And from the looks of her it seemed as if the woman was used to a life far more extraordinary then what the pack lands of the surrounding regions could offer. You’re not from around here are you? Oak asked at last, his curiosity getting the better of him and another bit hoping not to loose her so quickly to the flowing crowd.

[/html]
#5
[html]

Word Count → 218 :: I suuuuuuuuuuck :|

Cobalt eyes drank in her appearance and his lips wore an uneven smile, the sort of look a drunkard might have. It took what little self control she had not to laugh at his reaction to her. Ariadne was a vain creature and could not help but lap up such things. Whenever someone was even slightly mesmerized by her it was just so deliciously amusing. Almost unconsciously her body was taking up a stance that best displayed her figure, one hand haughtily placed upon her slender hip. Lids with thick lashes partly hid her molten gold eyes as she looked back up at him with a mischievous smirk.


Miss? Had he really just called her by such a proper name? Once again the Grecian had to stifle laughter. She didn't remember anyone ever being quite so prim and proper to her. He was quite the gentleman, apparently. "Mmmm, you're probably right. I do have expensive tastes," she teased as chocolate fingers ran over her thick gold necklace. The question he asked had an obvious answer, and she couldn't help but let out a tinkle of laughter. "How astute of you." Lips pulled back to show ivory teeth, intensifying her grin. "No, I am from the isle of Crete, near Greece. Ariadne is my name, and what is yours?"

<style>
.ariadne1 {margin:0 auto; width:450px; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/wl3By.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:14px; text-align:justify;}
.ariadne1 p.ooc {font-style:italic; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:12px; text-align:justify; text-indent:0px; padding:0px 5px;}
.ariadne1 p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;}
.ariadne1 .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#926e00;}
.ariadne1 p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding:10px 5px;}
.ariadne1 b {color:#926e00; letter-spacing:1px; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:-.06em;}
</style>
[/html]
#6
[html]thats a lieee

He had been able to keep her still for a few moments longer, tore bay gaze locked on her golden orange eyes and her pointed features. They trailed done her neck and to the necklace that she wore as she touched it. Oak swallowed a growing lump in his throat; she was certainly something he had never seen before. Even among the crowds of people there was nothing that had caught his attention so fiercely. Oak smiled again, listening as she spoke with a hint of sarcasm in her ton. Yet she answered him, and from what he could tell she was honest and did not hope to fool him. Even if she did, he would allow it.


As he had guessed she was not from the meek lands of ‘Souls, rather she had come from a place he had never heard of. An island. Oak. He spoke, eyes touching her gaze and holding themselves steady. He looked on with interest, the questions gathering at the brim of his throat and wishing to be spoken. But he spoke only one, as to not seem too eager as he may have in the past moments. You came with the merchants then? She must be one of the many that had followed the market caravan north. His question was simple, yet the way he watched her was far more complex.

[/html]
#7
[html]

Word Count → 277 ::Nupe, cause I still suuuuuuuck Tongue

The way he swallowed as her darkened fingers traced over her necklace caused a small leap of mischief in her gut. Oh, if she played her cards right she could have this handsome thing wrapped around her little finger. Surely that could only play to her advantage. Gods knew she would not be averse to having such a strong male at her beck and call. Especially if she could call him into her bed—though who was she kidding? Ariadne hardly needed a bed to explore the carnal pleasures of life.


His name was not what she might have guessed, though fitting for all that. "Like the tree, eh? It suits you," she said with an unmistakable twinkle in her eyes. "A good guess, given the circumstances, but no. I worked on a trading galley and we made a brief stop here. One particularly jealous and uptight bastard took it on himself to teach me a lesson and stranded me here. Thankfully, due to my gregarious nature I've been able to make friends and find myself lodging." She was hardly destitute, even if her situation was far from ideal. Things, undoubtedly, could have been worse.


"Still, it is a rather unfortunate situation to find oneself in. I'm not entirely sure how I should proceed from here." Of course she would like to make it Freetown in time to catch the galley and expose Damianos before they left, but that was doubtful. The ship would make berth long before she could make it there by land, and she didn't even have a map to guide her, much less the skills to make such a journey on her own.

<style>
.ariadne1 {margin:0 auto; width:450px; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/wl3By.png); background-position:center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:14px; text-align:justify;}
.ariadne1 p.ooc {font-style:italic; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:12px; text-align:justify; text-indent:0px; padding:0px 5px;}
.ariadne1 p.ooc + p {padding:0px 5px;}
.ariadne1 .wc {text-transform: uppercase; font-weight:bold; color:#926e00;}
.ariadne1 p {text-indent: 25px; margin:0px; padding:10px 5px;}
.ariadne1 b {color:#926e00; letter-spacing:1px; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:-.06em;}
</style>
[/html]


Forum Jump: