All's fair in war and peace
#1
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300+
set around the hotel c: DO WHAT YOU WILL. it's nice to see another gay maaan.

Strel was enjoying the weak winter sunshine, choosing to let it warm his pelt as he sat against a tree in the yard of the Hotel. It was nice being outside, even if he was alone once more. Noss wasn't home and the man didn't know when he'd come back. Lately, it felt like some of the passion waned, though it was often the redhead's imagination. He was a social beast and far more talkative than his mate was, which was a sore problem now and then. Strel did not mind, but they sometimes butted heads over simple things, since both were so stubborn and so sure of their own opinions that they had to fight. It was annoying often, whenever it happened, and other times it was just plain frustrating.


For now, he chose to sit outside, away from his room and away from his lack of work. He had been thinking lately, and thinking was rarely a good sign for the redhead. He thought a lot, true, but those were mostly over duties for his rank and other some such things. But when he thought about Noss, and not in a positive way, something was going down. The two men still had a relationship, though it was fairly frustrating sometimes how much time they spent apart, though Noss still tended to gravitate toward the tailor. But it wasn't as often as during his courting of Strel and there seemed to be that dwindling passion. Perhaps it was just time that caused that?


The Dauphin sighed slightly, easing his head back against the wood. These thoughts he threw away as he gazed at the blue sky and let the sun shine on him. It was pointless to think of these things, especially when the moment the two men met that night, everything would be fine, normal, and dandy. No big thing, but Strel was finding his life a little stressful sometimes, though not as stressful as it had been months prior. Thank goodness for that.


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#2
Too bad that Trent's kind of a disgrace for gay men so far, thinking that his desires are wrong and all. XD

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Ever since that night, Trent hadn't seen Terra again. He felt kind of guilty to have tricked her into his little game, his own filthy desires of curing himself. But if it was the black-maned stranger that was in his head, then how was he really curing anything? It would've been no more than a puppet show of play-pretend, then, and the worst part was that she didn't know. Or maybe the worst part was, because of Trent's selfish nature, that he craved to continue this little puppet show so badly, that he wanted to actually see her again and build up, well, something, if only to deny his deepest, blackest passions.

In optime form, Trent stepped out of the hotel's doors. The shifting was beginning to ease on him a little, although it still hurt like hell when he did. But at least he had some sort of control over it, now. Still no jeans, especially not after being caught by Skoll in the King's house; he was too scared that anything he found laying around and took already belonged to someone else. So for now, he was without clothes. Trent figured that he could visit Halifax city, though, and there were plenty of uninhabited places there that he could hopefully find human shinies in.

Lost in thoughts, the deep ones about love and passion and the superficial ones about clothing and shiny stuff, Trent walked into the hotel's yard. The sun was welcoming, and Trent smiled a little even though the sun didn't particularly heat him up. It was still February, after all.

At first, Trent was unaware that there was another outside that was pondering about life and important things. He stepped through the yard, figuring he could do some hunting to try and get away from this new lifestyle he was trying to adjust to, when he noticed someone colourful sit beneath a tree. Large ears were turned towards the other as Trent froze a moment, because he was already quite close, and tried to decide a course of action. Unable to think of anything else, Trent hunched his shoulders slightly, averting his gaze in silent submission. He cleared his throat and said, Uh, hi. I'm Trent. Then tried to desperately find something else to say, but all he came up with was, I uh, I'm new here.

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#3
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300+
psh, Strel has children with a woman somewhere. He's a pretty bad gay man too.

It truly was one of those rare days. It wasn't particularly gray and the sun was warm despite the weather. It was good. Ears twitching, the redheaded man peered at the upper levels of the hotel, at the sky past the shingles. He heard the rustling of another person exiting the hotel, and the man thought little of it. Plenty of folk chose to live in the building, and that was their choice. He knew most of them, though he did glance at the canine leaving. It was a man he had never met before. Lavender eyes watched the stranger catch sight of the Dauphin by the tree, waiting for his reaction. The stranger probably did not know who he was, though Strel hardly demanded anything of anyone in the pack in regards to recognizing who he was. He knew who he was and that was that. If they knew to simply respect him, there would never be a problem between them.


When the stranger - Trent was his name - had suddenly moved himself into a submissive pose, despite the Dauphin being on the ground with his head against the tree. Strel cocked his head at the young man, lifting up a leg so that he could rest an elbow on the knee there. His other hand adjusted the collar on his white shirt as he eyed the man. New? that would explain why he had not yet seen him. "Oh, Caspa or Vigilante accepted you?" he asked, knowing it had to be one of them seeing as it had not been he himself. "Good, good," he added lightly, happy to know people were still coming to the kingdom. "I was worried we were no longer a desirable place to live."


Strel waved his hand, motioning for the new member to sit near him. His smile was easy and his eyes kind. "I'm Strelein, the Dauphin of this lovely Court."


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#4
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From the corner of his eyes, Trent watched the other tug at his shirt. Trent felt rather underdressed, since he wore nothing — because he had nothing — and he felt envy looking at all that Strelein had and wore. After his mishap of walking into the King's living place and being floored by Skoll, though, Trent hadn't found the courage to look for his own shiny things yet.

As the other Court wolf greeted him, Trent nodded numbly. Uh, Caspa, he began, but never finished the sentence. Trent wasn't sure why the other mentioned the Court not being a desireable place to live, unsure why it wouldn't. It... Isn't it? he asked in confusion.

The wave of the hand was a gesture that Trent didn't know much about. He scratched behind an ear with his right hand, although more to stall than because he had an itch anywhere. Hesitantly Trent approached, getting a bit closer and then sitting down on the ground. Since he hadn't been a luperci for very long, the coywolf sat down oddly, his legs outstretched and back arched with one hand placed on the ground in front of him; almost as though he was afraid he'd fall over if he didn't have at least one arm for support.

Trent was about to introduce himself when Strelein gave his name, only to realise he already had. Luckily he realised it in time and managed to avoid embarrassment. I met Alder, and he told me that this was a good home, so I figured I'd give it a try. Trent forced a smile to his face as he spoke, even though there wasn't really anything to smile about.

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#5
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000+


Strel gave a rolling laugh as he adjusted the position of his legs. "I certainly think so. But I've been here for more than two years. This is my third winter here." Strel certainly loved his home plenty. It was where he had now lived for more than half his life and it was the place he had felt the most freedom. Where else would he have risen higher? The court may have been a faint shadow of itself from the days he had joined, but he knew that things would change soon enough. Things were simply getting more spread out in the area. Things would be okay, he knew it would be okay.


Trent sat himself down oddly. The position was something more akin to a new Luperci than one born into the trait. Strel furrowed a brow at the man though he did not ask about the man's new condition. Strel had never sat like that, unless he had been too tired to sit properly. Had he sat like that as a pup approaching his first year? No, unlikely.


Alder had spoken to Trent? Well, that was a great thing he had done, for certain. "We are glad to have you, Trent," he said with a smile, making a note to thank Alder. "Alder is the half-brother of one of my closet friends, he is a good man and good with the horses." Without Anann to tend them, Alder had more or less taken over the task of caring for the horses. Strel eyed the newcomer carefully, tilting his head ever so slightly. "How long have you been turned?" he asked, tactlessly and forgetting his earlier choice to leave it unasked.


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#6
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That's long, Trent retorted lamely. It was longer than he'd lived that Strelein had lived here. After settling himself down on the ground, another question came to mind. Were you... The question suddenly seemed strange, but since he was already halfway Trent knew he couldn't get away with denying Strelein an answer now. Were you born here? One ear flicked forward and then back again. Nearly three years seemed like a really long time, and Strelein didn't seem all that old. If he had been born in Cours des Miracles, though, wouldn't he have said so right off the bat?

Compared to Strelein, Trent felt like he was from some other planet, or that he looked like he was, at the very least. Strelein looked graceful and well-dressed, and he was, well, him, sitting awkwardly with no idea how to use his overgrown-feeling appendages now. Trent just hoped that it'd get better in time, that he would at some point grow more comfortable in this new form.

Alder seemed well-known and well-loved, and maybe it had been his ticket into acceptance. It didn't surprise Trent to find out that Alder was so well-loved around the pack, though, since the male had been amicable enough, both on their first meeting -- especially on their first meeting -- as well as the time the two of them had met up in Court territory, after Trent's acceptance.

At first, when he heard the word 'turned', Trent had no idea what Strelein was talking about. For a couple of seconds he stared at Strelein, then away (in fear that it would be visible in his eyes that he was lying if he decided to make up something). Then Trent realised what the question was about. Ah, uh - not very long. Still getting used to... stuff. He didn't mention how it had happened, not eager to share these details, but luckily from his experience with Caspa, others didn't seem all that interested in these kind of stories, anyway. Good. Trent looked at his toes, wondering if he'd ever get used to this strange form, but knowing he needed it to get around the pack well enough, what with all the doors and human items they used here.

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