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From his den to his garage was maybe forty miles. (He'd been hanging out there enough lately to no longer consider himself a guest in his daughter's former home--she'd been gone for months now, and his scent clearly dominated the area.) It was close enough to make a round trip possible within a day, but far enough away to put him in a different state of mind and mood. After his encounter with Firefly elsewhere in the city, he'd decided to call it a "day" and made his way back home. He couldn't decide if things in Inferni had grown more stable or dormant, and from there he couldn't tell which interpretation he preferred. Ezekiel had departed; he'd scarcely seen Ryan or Valkyrie around as much as he would have liked; Gabriel had his own matters to attend to; Hybrid had grown elusive, making his rounds and scarcely talking to anybody as far as he could tell (not that he really missed that guy's company). Domestic deficiencies aside, it seemed like things were at least okay on the foreign front. Since they'd taken out Bastardo, things had been relatively quiet.
Thus, it was not entirely surprising that he found himself with Inferni at his back and the looming structures of Halifax rising in front to greet him yet again. He grew restless and anxious quickly when he was at home and there was seemingly nothing to do... but out here, he felt he could truthfully relax. The seccui wove his way expertly between the streets. Once upon a time, he'd needed to stick to the hot pavement paths to find his way to the garage, but now he could navigate between alleys and parks, greatly increasing the efficiency with which he moved. Today something caught his attention--a metal ladder propped up against one of the cold brick walls--and he considered the possibilities. Why not? Smoothly completing the shift to his bipedal form, he held the ladder with both hands at his left side and continued to walk toward his little retreat. It was fortunate he'd found it when he was already moderately close to his destination, for it obviously impeded his mobility some.
Before very long, though, he could be found atop the garage. The roof sloped gently enough that it wasn't horrifying to walk around up there, and if anything, it was at a perfect angle for leaning back and looking at the sky. The ladder was propped up behind the garage away from the street, and his small pipe lay at his side. He reclined with his arms folded behind his head, using them as a makeshift pillow, as he regarded the puffy white cumulus clouds that lazily drifted overhead in front of a perfect blue backdrop.
set @ his garage in halifax! for ghita. [/html]
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Sorry it took so long! >< Wc: 1000+
By any and all means, it was an ordinary day by the timber fae's standards. Aside from the fact that she was miles from her pack, of course. Going back to her nomadic habits, she had snuck away earlier that morning, under the cover of a rising sun, to explore the territory that surrounded her new home. It was odd that she hadn't done so already, being as restless as the fae could be, but she had resisted telling her ebony sister about her 'exploration', mainly because Savina would probably be expecting it anyways.
It wouldn't have been the first time she'd run off on them, her family. More like the third in fact. So by now, she had no qualms about leaving her pack, and her duties as a Chief Sergeant behind; If anyone asked, she'd dismiss it as a hunting trip. Usually, wolves who knew her well wouldn't be able to see just what entertained the wolfess so much about exploring the lands - they knew she hated focusing on something for too long. But she could understand what other's couldn't always. She knew precisely the amount of things she needed to keep track of while on the move, the least of it being her location.
She hadn't begun with a plan, necessarily, of where she was going, but regarded the azure sky with her own turquoise pools, wondering what they would look like under the cover of night. Of course, that would mean sacrificing sleep until the next night, so she would be back in time for the morning, but Ghita was used to pulling long hours - she could barely sleep while resting in the Manor anyways.
Her lupine paws trotted over leaves and sticks effortlessly in the Secui form, large and bulky - out of place in her surroundings. But ever since she had learned to shift, (only a few days ago) she found this her favorite form to be in while moving. Stamina was sacrificed for speed, but that suited her just fine - as long as she got where she was going. Picking up speed, growing muscles stretched lazily before contracting and darting forwards in an effortless lope through the territory. In front of her, a barren city stood shakily - a last stand against the brutal elements, filling Ghita with a sudden pang of remorse for abandoning her family for the day.
Quickly hoping that Ehno and Savina would forgive her since she came back so quickly, she dove forward into the desolate structures, optics wide at the ruins pressing around her. Back in Italy, their homeland could be classified as sophisticated, almost like this city, but more vibrant - inhabited by wolves all around. Even then, she hated sleeping indoors, and no matter how much she tried, could not shake the habit. So it was doubly odd for her to linger in a city for this long, and was about to turn tail, return to the bare outskirts where she'd hunt, perhaps, for a distraction while waiting for the cloak of darkness to descend.
But another Luperci's scent hit her nostrils, swirling around and smelling almost rank compared to her familiar fellows, causing her eyes to narrow in confusion. Of course she was aware of other packs around, but hadn't come into contact with them in a long time, if ever. Not one to back down from a 'challenge', the femme set off in the direction of the scent, keeping her pace at a light trot, so she wouldn't seem too eager to find the wolf at the end.
Almost everything about her looked average, at least. Her coloring was natural, a dusty brown main and bottom coat isolating the cold from her skinny frame. Those hairs however looked as if they had been dipped in melted silver, for the tips were of the same color as angry clouds, brewing almost as threateningly. Ivory coated her chest, most of her muzzle and her cheeks, giving way to her brilliant turquoise optics. Keeping her cranium level, but not to the point of arrogance, the Italian fae weaved in between structures, growing more curious with every pawstep.
The wind rustled through her fur gently, almost like a caress, as she trotted, soft and gentle almost all over her body. There were only a few places that it skipped over awkwardly, and the constant reminder kept her alert - and proud. At five points on her cranium were holes, miniscule but punctures all the same, that contained five bits of metal. Three resided in her left ear, a trio of small hoops that slapped against the sensitive skin with every step she took. But two more hid in her lower lip, snake bites, finalizing her 'street-tough' look that she could harness if she wanted to.
Lost in thought, she almost passed by the garage that Anslem perched on - it was only a stroke of luck that she had turned her eyes to the sky to catch sight of him. The golden-hued male startled her slightly, but she kept her composure stubbornly, taking in every detail of him, down to the crimson shine in his eyes. Finally sitting down, her mane weighed on her back and shoulders, tumbling over her shoulders before she raised her voice in a greeting. "That's unusual place to rest." Her tone was perfect for what she was trying to say, but her English was imperfect from being raised in Italy. Although the flow was coming into her voice in both English and Italian, Italian would always be her home language. Screwing up her eyes against the sun, she titled her head, ears at a perfect 90 degree angle to her scalp.
She held no intent to seem threatening to the male; It'd be hard to say who'd win in the fight if it did ensue, but Ghita held no desire to find this out. However, she also wasn't about to grovel in front of him either. She had pride to maintain, if not for Crimson Dreams or her family, her own pride. Her gaze was slightly scrutinizing, but in a teasing way at the same time, almost laughing at the fact that he had perched on the garage. One eyebrow-tuft had even risen to the occasion, perking itself closer to him than it's partner, a ghost of a smile lingering on her ivories.
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@$%&Despite his rough appearance (and past), Anselm was surprisingly laid back when he was caught away from Inferni's territory. In his mind, to encounter a stranger waltzing around Inferni was the equivalent of someone breaking into his house--similarly, anybody lurking around the Dampwoods or Arachnea's Revenge awfully close to their border was no better than a snoop slinking around their back yard. Away from home, though, for him to get angry or act dominant around another would be the equivalent of storming angrily into a park and threatening to beat people up. It just didn't make sense, and the seasoned hybrid knew that fights were taxing on both the body and the spirit. He always operated roughly on the "eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" principle, anyway. Those that offered him respect were likely to receive it in return, while those that went looking for trouble would find it quickly. He wasn't necessarily unreasonable, he just had a short fuse and didn't have the patience to put up with any nonsense.
@$%&Regardless, when a voice drifted up to him from the streets below, he quirked a brow and sat up, propping his arms behind him and regarding the woman who'd addressed him. Perhaps she considered herself moderately plain, but Anselm was immediately intrigued--she may have very well been the exact opposite of himself. Where his eyes were a fiery red, hers were a watery blue-green that, even from a couple metres above, reflected the sky perfectly. Anselm's vibrant gold contrasted starkly with her earthy coloured pelt, and while his fur was accented in black, hers glistened in silver. Perhaps, then, it was only natural that he felt an immediate and significant physical attraction toward the girl--their genes were clearly so different, and was the point of reproduction not to ensure genetic diversity? Obviously he could not place this subconscious instinctual drive, but the metallic piercings (which finely accented her silver-tipped fur, he would add) roused his interest on a different level. He had never seen another girl like her, before, and he wasted no time raising his right hand in a casual wave.
@$%&"Yeah, well.. I've got a hunch you're not afraid of heights," he offered with a grin. "There's a ladder around back if you care to shift and join me," he continued smoothly, just a hint of a warm purr to his tone. Only now did he rise carefully to his feet, standing on his tippy-toes and arms above his head as he stretched his back, legs, and arms all at once. His back cracked slightly, a hollow and faint popping sound that was no more significant than the light footfalls he made as he strode across the garage to the back--he could hold the ladder steady for her, if she wished. He was rather relieved that the garage was so sturdy... that girl of his had a keen eye for architecture and machinery alike, it seemed. Either way, the roof didn't even leak inside (even with all that blasted rain they'd had last month) and he wouldn't really be worried until there were over four luperci up there... which wasn't likely to happen. He sat down on the edge next to the ladder, swinging his legs over the side as he waited to see if she'd choose to join him, or if he'd have to jump down to the ground instead.
??? one day is not long. XD plus, that post is GIANT!  [/html]
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Yeah... I dunno wtflop happened with that first post. O_o Hopefully this one won't be as long, but I thought I was writing a short one when I was writing that, so... we'll see! ^^; Wc: 700+ Much better. XD
She hadn't expected the golden wolf's reaction to be quite so dramatic; He seemed more the type to just maybe lift an eyebrow - to keep his cool at almost any cost. Surprisingly, she was flattered to have merited a more involving response, and decided to just sit back a little bit more, teasing him subtly. Perhaps he didn't notice, and that was fine too; She barely noticed when she was doing it. Her 'tough' attitude was coupled with a 'better than you' arrogance that seemed just on the border of annoying, but somehow managed to avoid pissing too many people off.
In the time that it took Anslem to compare their appearances, she was noticing his, but on a different level. Without even realizing it at first, she had unconsciously been sizing him up to another wolf in her pack - Jazper. Turquoise eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance, letting out a small huff that could be mistaken as any emotion under the sun. Now fully aware that crimson optics were sizing her up thanks to the silence that had sprawled before them, she turned her cranium westwardly, closing her optics in almost disinterest before looking back at him. At the casual wave he sent in her direction, she tilted her head slightly towards her right side, waiting for words to spill from hesitant tongues.
Any wolf in her pack had more than enough evidence to go above and beyond a hunch; Ghita truly seemed unafraid of anything. It hadn't been all that long ago that she had launched herself off of the rafters of the barn - with her young niece, no less! Perhaps not the best judgement, but amusement all the same. Her apathy towards fear was her fear, if that could be spun in any way to make sense. She was afraid of being seen as afraid, and had gotten very good at putting up a mask to shield herself. But, heights were one thing that she could face head-on.
"I'm more than happy to test your hunch there," She grinned, optics glancing towards the metal frame before back at her companion. Wordlessly, she padded around the garage, finding the ladder easily enough. She was just about ready to fall into the mindframe of the shift before movement caught her eye - Anslem had risen in greeting, and the sun danced off his fur, sending attractive highlights careening down where muscles bunched and stretched. With a small chuckle, she deduced that he was showing off for her - and it wasn't that she minded at all.
To say he was attractive enough would be to disgrace him, to deny herself the pleasure of appreciation. Fabric did not hide the ripple of muscles or the absence of fat - leaving it to a gleeful eye to regard the subtle nuances of form. Nibbling gently at the snakebite that hid on her ebony lip, a smile hid the concentration behind her eyes, closing them so she wouldn't be tempted. Being fairly new to shifting, her time was lacking, but with experience would come speed, and she had to be content with that for now.
She focused on the form that she had only seen a few times before, desperately scrambling for the subtle nuances that were imperative to remember. Legs that before had seemed like young saplings, lined with muscle from long days of running sprouted and stretched, the skin coating the bones like a thin layer of paper. Her torso followed suit, stretching and spreading fat around in form of muscles, finally coating where the muscles should have been on her legs. Paw-like hind feet formed, and it took a moment for her to stabilize before her hands became humanized, the joints cracking and rearranging to form Ghita's favorite part of her Optime form. She, like Anslem, wore no clothes - simply because she was too new to the form to think about it, and that she preferred the feeling of wind on her fur.
The final change happened with her mane - it became long, silky, and straight, cascading down her back to reach the middle of it; A dusty brown with silver tips - just as her fur was in her other forms. Testing out her limbs as she usually did, it only took a moment or two for her to swing up the ladder, landing gracefully on the garage. Hands resting lightly on the floor, she took a moment to regard her surroundings, faint interest playing across her features before she turned to her comrade. "You have a nice view up here."
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» 's all good. -Loving this thread.- xD
She found herself in good company. Maybe the same magnets would repel, but there was also some merit to that "birds of a feather" saying, too. Anselm, keeping in line with his inflated opinion of himself, liked to think himself more confident and capable than arrogant. To be fair, that confidence came from a lot of experience and skill, plus his mind was sharp and analytical to boot (despite the omnipresent borderline paranoia). Still, he never boasted or gave too much detail on his war-torn past. As Inferni's resident spy, he knew best of all that information and knowledge was power. The less others had about him and his capabilities, the better. That didn't stop him from projecting an aura of tenacity and poise. He also was inclined to see Ghita's disposition as confident, too, which was an attractive trait just by itself. (He certainly wasn't the sort who'd like to pick up the broken pieces of some girl's self esteem.)
She huffed and looked away from him, but he simply looked on with the remarkable patience he possessed in situations like these alone, and a subtle smile teased the corners of his mouth when she decided to join him anyway. It'd be easy to chalk her response up to taking on the "challenge," of course, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew if she were truly disinterested she would have declined regardless. It was the same sort of thing where if anyone asked, yeah, he was just casually stretching, but in reality it was all a subtle show. (Or perhaps subtle wasn't the best word, as she'd picked up on it instantly--though it was largely subconscious on his end.)
As she began to shift, he found his head turning and his gaze lifted skyward again--he couldn't help but consider such things as private. It was the rough equivalent of watching somebody change clothes; there was something vulnerable about being in between states. Though he had the mouth of a sailor and laundry list of vices to his name, in some very peculiar ways he could still rather gentlemanly. It took quite a bit longer than he was used to, however, and on occasion he would take quick glances to ascertain whether or not she was done. He practised shifting regularly (daily, to be precise) and had it down to an art form, a skill performed with the efficiency anyone who knew him well enough would come to expect.
The ladder began to shift at his side and he looked down, remembering quickly to hold the top steady as she ascended the rungs. He was intrigued by her coordination (in his mind it almost contradicted the duration of her shift, but this simply added a layer of depth to her--and a little mystery was always appreciated). As she reached the top he scooted back so she had room. He sat on the crest of the roof and, once more, found himself watching with interest as she crouched on the roof. He didn't look too long, however, and he found his gaze drifting out over the back yard, complete with Maserati's crop of marijuana. Only now did he become intensely aware of the pungent smell--prior to that, Ghita's had clearly taken priority in his mind.
She spoke and he found himself asking a soft, agreeable "Isn't it?" as he peered back at her face. Content to leave that question--or statement, maybe--as ambiguous as possible, he smoothly continued. "I like the contrast. You've got the park and woods behind those houses in the back, and the sprawl of the city in the front." With that he turned again, facing the direction he originally had been towards the street. It was almost as if they were straddling two worlds--but perhaps she wouldn't see it that way.
As he turned he caught sight of his pipe again and he picked it up, eyeing the partially charred plant material contained in the bowl. He glanced back up to the pierced woman and raised a brow questioningly. "It'd be rude not to offer," he said simply, clearly holding no expectations either way. Some preferred to stay away from foreign substances while others embraced them... but as he'd said, it was quite simply bad taste not to offer. There was no sense in hiding it if she disapproved, anyway, as she would surely notice the only two items up there shortly (that being the pipe and the fluorescent orange lighter, of course). As far as he was concerned, the mild drug was only an enhancement for an otherwise perfect afternoon.
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Wc: 300+
Flying past the subtle niceties, the Italian fae found herself invisibly struggling to recover from the embarrassment of her long shift. She was quite new to the art, and was frankly just impressed to have found herself with ten fingers and ten toes. Heat prickled just beneath her fur, but she recovered gracefully, her character propelling her up onto a platform away from the discomfort.
Startled to find herself relaxed next to the stranger, Ghita took it as in much stride as only she could, tripping before springing back up so she didn't miss a word. The tones rang soft beside her ears, catching the waves and interpreting them quietly, saving judgement for another day. Ghita guessed his reply wasn't a question, and was content to leave it there as she leaned back, her slim frame stretching over the roof.
The words fell over themselves gently, tumbling to the roof and sliding off as quickly as they were replaced. Now leaning on her stretched hands, she cocked her head in his direction, content to listen to him define their surroundings. Redundant? Perhaps; She could see her environment as well as he could, but another's views were always appreciated. Soon they would approach the threshold of the end of the fae's patience; shorter than a fuse of dynamite and as quick to explode, she hoped that the conversation would change. However enjoyable it was, this girl's mind ran a mile a minute.
She hadn't noticed the pipe until after he did - and once she saw it it was impossible to forget about it. The scent that had been her companion for a while had been pouring back into her nostrils, and she embraced it like an old friend. Turquoise eyes searched the wooden cavern with a mild interest, finally noting just where the source had come from. "And a gentleman too." His behavior reminded her of the olden Italian days - although they weren't filled with the foreign substances, they still held the mannerisms that she saw.
She wasn't thinking about Cambria's experience with drugs when she reached her hand out. Grasping the pipe with long, humanized fingers, she forgot about her pack's hatred towards the substances and especially Naniko. All she could remember as the pipe stared her down was the feeling that engulfed her, free of obligations or addictions.
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@&#&$Of all the drugs he'd rate this one as the most benign. The effects were temporary; they did not bid the body to seek them repeatedly or in excess, nor did they prompt the mind to make hasty decisions that would later be viewed with regret or contempt. Sex and infatuation were drugs in their own right, and he'd dare to rate the leafy substance as less addictive or modifying than either. Gabriel's recent fallout with Faolin had taught him plenty on the tolls a former love interest could take when they were suddenly stripped away. Of course, with greater risk came greater reward.
@&#&$It wasn't as though there were anything particularly exciting about this specific activity; his motto toward the mind-altering substances had always been simply "Drugs: never before has doing nothing been so satisfying". Like many, the vast majority of his time was spent alone. Without external stimuli to occupy his mind, he quickly grew bored and restless--but hunting, exercise, and patrols could only carry him so far through the day. Often times he would just sleep, though there were plenty of occasions where his mind would refuse to shut down merely because he willed it. It was during these times that he found the smoke most therapeutic and beneficial.
@&#&$Maybe, then, they weren't so different. Anselm's attention span wasn't especially short, though during long pack meetings he had difficulty getting his mind to focus. He was similarly impatient when it came to books; he held a strong preference to books with lots of pictures and visual explanations, those that maintained the minimum number of words necessary to convey meaning. If he could glance through it and understand, excellent; if he had to examine every word in excruciating detail several times over to get the point, forget it.
@&#&$Times like these, though, were easy enough to understand. The drug clouded his mind and kept him content with little; all he'd needed before was a good hit and the blue sky with the strangely shaped clouds overhead. "So what brings you out this far?" he wondered absently, sparing another glance at his peculiar (albeit attractive) companion. [/html]
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OKAY! So I've never done drugs before. >< So this is going to be a completely wikipedia-based reply. XD Wish me luck! Wc: 500+
Ivory fingers clasped around the pipe, feeling the smooth surface slide over them almost like ice, although warmed from sitting under the sun. Ebony lips parted all too eagerly for the end, and her lungs sucked in the air almost greedily, scrabbling for the effects. There was no physical sign of her desire - all that her companion would see was a suave, albeit rebellious Italian fae, reclining as she took in the plant all too cooly. But her insides were alight with the desire for the drug.
It wasn't a physical desire, one that ruled her mind and commanded the consumption. Rather, it was one that heralded her inability to refuse it, simply for lack of a good reason to. She was addicted to how she felt on it - not just the effects it threw to her system. Ghita loved feeling rebellious, outside the norm; A more subtle reason behind the piercings she wore in her flesh. It was a desire that wrapped around her mind, the little voice that spoke and argued that there was no harm in it - it simply heightened what she could be without the narcotics. Drugs weren't on her mind all the time, but once they came, it was hard to refuse.
Instantly after the aromas slunk down her throat, the effects began to creep into her cranium. There was the feeling that she couldn't push away, the feeling that her lips should be lengthened in what could only be called a wolvine smile. The feeling that she loved to be here, loved to be alive. Ghita felt the stresses melt away, like raindrops from a summer leaf, splashing onto another surface far away from where she was. Her muscles relaxed, letting herself seep into the roof while remaining upright. The smells around her became more potent, swirling inside her nostrils as she fell into herself all over again.
She met his eyes with her twin turquoises, a small smile creeping larger as time wore on. Passing the pipe back to Anslem, she thanked him before leaning forward, crossing her legs like a wolvine pretzel beneath her. Resting her hands next to her hips, she tilted her head, thinking about the question he posed to her. Unknown to her, her English became a little worse, the Italian accent heavier in this state. "Why? Hmm... Can't say 'know." She began absentmindedly. As she thought on, one eyelid slid closed in a wink that lingered, then moved onto the other optic as it opened again. A moving wink.
"Boredom's my best guess. There's only so much repetition one can take, you know?" The words were true, spoken from a mouth loosened from clear consequences, but what the silver-tipped wolf wasn't acknowledging was the fact that her family was in a small amount of turmoil at that point. Ghita hadn't ingested so much of the drug to be ready to spill out everything that was on her mind, but just enough to get her to that point, if pressed. "How about you? Live around?"
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Maybe they were like ghosts of the past. She pierced and he tattooed, perched out of sight and out of mind atop a garage in the suburban sprawl of a huge Canadian city, it could have easily been a throwback to another time when two teens rested in the very same spot partaking in the very same activity. Perhaps they were a couple, and maybe in their foggy, dream-like mindset they'd made a promise to return one day and smoke in tribute to the old days. Maybe the two wolves were unknowingly fulfilling that strange eternal promise--but maybe they'd gotten there a bit too late. Indeed, she was a mature woman and he a grown man. This was no longer the act of mere teenage rebellion (though his habit had been rooted as such)--they were two independent souls, not afraid to declare a bold "Fuck it!" and kick back to enjoy their afternoon. Inevitably she was destined to fall for another, but for the moment there was nobody but them and the blue sky.
She took the hit expertly, both relieved and impressed that he needn't explain the mechanics of smoking this time. As she handed it back, his left shoulder raised in a shrug, palm up as his head pointed to his right--a casual, dismissive gesture. "No shortage of supply," he reassured her--she obviously would have registered so much already, but in his words was an implicit offer that she could help herself whenever she wished. For now, he accepted his turn and inhaled deeply, the very act causing his head to spin on top of what he'd already consumed before she'd arrived. He watched with interest and curiosity as she rearranged herself and got comfortable, and his ears pricked forward at the sound of her voice. Accents could truly drive him crazy--they were infinitely more intriguing (and therefore attractive) just by merit of being exotic.
Anselm couldn't decide if her wink was intentional or not, though he was leaning towards the latter and he found it absolutely endearing. Part of the fun of getting messed up with other people was just watching them be messed up, after all. A grin had formed on his face, and all at once he released a cloud of smoke in a hiccup of a giggle. It was as over as soon as it started, though his jaws had parted in a lupine grin and smoke was still pouring out. Her laid back, simple explanation was rather welcome, and he nodded with stoned enthusiasm in agreement. "Yea; these things can sometimes help with that," he offered, sparing a glance down to the pipe.
He peered behind her then, considering the base of what was once an antenna (the antenna itself had been snapped off long ago). He shifted just an inch closer to her and leaned forward, extending his arm behind her and gently placing the smouldering bowl with the bright orange lighter on the ledge. Here it would be less likely to be bumped off, he would say if asked, though really he was curious how she'd react to him stretched (somewhat suggestively) past her. Though they did not touch, his eyes found hers and a small, inviting smile flashed briefly before he looked away and leaned back once more.
At her inquiry he responded without missing a beat, first shaking his head and then shrugging as he reconsidered his answer. A fraction of a second later, he replied verbally. "This is my home away from home, so to speak. I live in the clan up north," he stated evenly, figuring it was probably sufficient detail. "But hey, no news is good news, right? I take it things are calm in Crimson Dreams, eh?" Her mention of boredom suggested such a thing, and he truly hoped things had settled down for Savina's sake. When he'd spoken to her last, things had been a little chaotic in the lake-side pack.
It's ok, I've done enough for the both of us. xP You did really well, I thought! :O -Giggled at the moving wink part pretty hardcore.- xDD [/html]
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I am SO SORRY the reply took so long! My principle kinda damaged my arm, and work was piled on my grade like no one's business! I also think I'm having a little too much fun describing the physicalities of Ghita's drugginess. XP Wc: 800+
Whatever passed in those few moments right after the ingestion was lost on Ghita. She found herself in a land too splendid to leave, a place where everything was just... so much better. At least that was the only way the fae could describe it at this point. Every sound that echoed around her was amplified, the notes warped and twisted in a melody that made only sense to the fae. Colours danced in front of her, luring her focus into an undivided role, which was filled with nothing but intent. But the most glorious things of all at this point were the scents. They swirled around her, conquered her nostrils and tap-danced tantalizingly on her taste buds, almost driving her to snap at the air, if not for the shred of self-control she had left. No, it wasn't much of the plant that Ghita had taken into her body. But it was just enough for her to act as someone unrecognizable from herself. Or was it something different?
When inhibition lifts and leaves you naked, lying with a stranger with nothing to do, does the road of possibilities stick simply to what you know, the path you're designed to tread? Perhaps you're only yourself with the mask on; how you react and what you shield makes you the conscious being you are. Or maybe it's more of the other side, the fact that when all else fails, you're on a set of tracks and will seldom stray from it. But the issue at hand was this. How to tell?
Of course, none of those thoughts were running through Ghita's mind. There were no splendid psychological revelations - at least this time. It was simply the child-like joy in which she took in her surroundings that occupied her. Then the booming of a foreign sound - something unexpected and yet all too enjoyable caused something in her mind to say that she should turn and acknowledge this fact. So, reluctantly, her cranium swayed forward, a little too heavily, and she grasped for meaning to the sounds that cascaded like water droplets. Finally receiving her bounty, she nodded, a lopsided smile painted on the imperfect statue of perfection. " 'Tis a good thing. Do you smoke 'sallot?"
The point was quickly lost as turquoise optics noticed the smoke form beside her. Eyes widening, she whipped around, facing the source with child-like glee obviously pouring off of her. "That's nothing I've seen afore." Her legs rearranged in a pretzel manner, hands folded into elbows as she watched. For her, the smoke had always emerged in either a long string or ring. Or, perhaps a cloud wasn't so uncommon - she just was in the mindframe to forget about it.
Simply two bodies were on the roof now. There were no pretenses or guards up. Dignity had, to some extent, been forgotten in favor of fun, but that still didn't mean that Ghita was completely out of it. She still had it in her to appreciate a well-toned body that exposed itself behind her, and she returned the smile with the small emergence of a pink tongue. It definitely wasn't what Anslem had hoped, or expected at least, but the last thing on the fae's mind was romance at this point - even if she was clean and focused, she still would have been held back by at least three conflicting pieces of evidence, and feelings that she may or may not have made up.
So much time had passed that she had forgotten that she had posed a question to her companion. So it took the high fae a few moments to remember the context in which the sounds were vibrating, but once grasped she regained some lucidity. Nodding sagely to give the impression of understanding, she bit at her piercing a little until she could remember what the clan was up north. (And for that matter, which way north actually was.) If Ghita was in possession of clarity at this point in time, perhaps warning bells would have set themselves off, seeing as this stranger knew which pack she was from. But for now she took it in stride, nodding slowly to avoid the world spinning too fast. "It's touch and go mostly - some issues come around but we're getting through." There was a moment in which she suddenly turned to study the shingle an inch to the right of her paw, and that held her interest through the time that followed, before she switched gears frighteningly fast. "Were you born here? I don't mean on the roof, wouldn't it be funny if you were? But I mean in this land - not across the sea." Where Ghita mentioned being born on this very roof, she patted it affectionately, as if it were an old friend demanding recognition. "I wasn't."
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@$%&"Only when there's time... so no, not really," he mused. For now he still viewed this as a rebellious act to be kept on the down-low and done away from home, even though it didn't alter his outward personality very much: only his outlook. Anselm was motivated enough to get work done even while in a haze, but surely nobody could blame him for opting to laze around on a garage rooftop with an Italian beauty instead. In the future he would come to understand Kaena's acceptance of the habit once one of her children--a notorious dope fiend--returned... and from there he'd take the whole matter a little more loosely and be less concerned about publicity, but for now retreating to the depths of Halifax on occasion suited him just fine. Besides--he'd never have the opportunity to meet lovely, pretty ladies like this one if he kept himself holed up in Inferni constantly!
@$%&Perhaps an unexpected reaction was the best he could have hoped for. If she'd flat-out rejected him he would be disappointed, but he didn't want it to be too easy, either. His original intentions were forgotten and a coughing giggle escaped him as he sat back in his seat and shook his head. A playful one, eh? He quirked a brow and offered an innocent shrug: What, I wasn't doin' nothin'! it seemed to say.
@$%&"Mm, yep; so goes life," he replied simply. Something always came up; once one problem was taken care of, a new one popped up to take its place. A call for peace in one war only opened the door for tensions to mount elsewhere. Chase away one trespasser, the next week there's another. An old face shows up, but then they're gone. He liked to tell himself it was this never-ending dance that kept life interesting, but that was just the self-generated delusion of a man whose feet were so sore and tired that he only wished to sit the next one out. This was as close as he would get for sometime--soon his daughter would leave him and he'd have to contend with that.
@$%&He smiled and found himself wriggling in his seat as she patted the roof--it was his best friend at the moment, too. "Haha, nothing so exotic I'm afraid. I was born a little further west of here on the mainland... it was a shitty place," he reflected with a strange sort of apathy. Anselm understood that his past made him what he was and that there was no use getting worked up over it. That chapter had been said and written, and some optimistic part of him still yearned for a happy ending. Despite its hardships, life was still better now than it was back then; there was no comparison.
@$%&"So how'd you find yourself way over here, eh? Must've been a journey of epic proportions..." Nobody would ever get him on a trans-Atlantic cruise. Period. Although he wasn't opposed to going rafting down a river or drifting around a lake in a canoe, he preferred to stick to waterways where he could.. well, still see land. He trusted his own muscle and brawn over the rickety hull of some old boat, and he certainly didn't trust waves that were taller than he was. "Had to have taken a lot of guts..." he continued, not ashamed to imply it wasn't his cup of tea. "Was it worth it?"
I'm not doing any better. Trust me, I know all about the universe playing evil tricks on you thing. D: [/html]
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Wc: 500+
The silver-tipped fae could agree to that statement. She hadn't smoked in a long time, arguing to herself that she took the weed as an act of pure courtesy. Ghita would rather believe that than the truth - that she wasn't able to stay away if it was near. Of course, if the other Marinos knew that she was smoking, surely irreparable damage would be caused, given Savina and Cambria's history. Then again, that ship had already sailed a long time ago; if they knew about her past drug problem, who knew what fresh hell would be released.
It was lucky for her then, that the powder was in shortage around her neck of the woods. Sure, now she knew that Anslem had a garden just around them, but hopefully the Italian native would either forget about it or be able to resist. After all, her drug of choice today was one without much addiction linked to it. If the powder had been of a different nature, however, she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop herself from taking just a little bit more.
Anslem was analyzing her reaction to him; it was only natural, she would have done the same if the positions were swapped. By now she had moved on, however, fascinated by some speck or another. Her ears perked up as his giggle reached her, and she added her own musical tones, the two drugged wolves just happy laughing with another. His shrug resulted in a cocked eyebrow, casually tossed towards him in their causal waltz set in still frame.
As the effects of the weed began to dwindle away, the world came back into sharper focus right in the middle of Anslem's recounting of history. "I'm sorry it was bad." Unsure of what to say, she kept her gaze on the plants below, letting her palm settle on the side of her knee. "How I found myself over here? That's a long tale, to say the least. I took a ferry over, and over the course of a few years, meandered back and forth between my sister's pack until I finally settled."
Did it take a lot of guts? "I'm not sure guts is the right word... I didn't feel like I had much of another option." Letting out her personal secrets, one by one, on a string and letting them tumble to the floor. She watched them for a moment, knowing perfectly well how to respond. "Yes, I think it was worth it in the end. It took a while in getting there, but the end result is what matters here."
Now she looked at him, taking in the muscular appearance and good looks with a well-seasoned, appreciative eye. "A good looking guy like you has to have one beau or another. You tied down to anyone?" As mentioned, the affects of the drugs were wearing off, yes, but not completely gone. Ghita barely clung to the sense that she had someone in her life, someone who would not take kindly to her hooking up now. However, she didn't make the connection between what she said and what she felt.
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Powerplay, let me know if it should be changed! Feel free to powerplay whatever in your next post, too... the sunset, a fade to black if she accepts his vague offer, etc. :]
@&#&$"Live today, forget the past," he mused dreamily, all too content to heed his own advice in the heat of the moment. The cumulus clouds that were once white puff-balls of cotton against a cerulean backdrop were now pink and orange, swirling and dissolving into the painted evening sky. Ah, how quickly time went when everything moved slow. It would still be another hour before the sun actually set, but Anselm was willing to gamble they might just witness the spectacle together--perhaps it would prove a fitting conclusion to their playful, hazy afternoon. As it was only September, it was easy to forget that the length of daylight was already on the decline as each day grew shorter than the last. The winter belonged to the night--this was merely part of the slow, subtle descent into darkness. Why not embrace it?
@&#&$He scooted along the roof on his rump, closer to her again with a similar objective, though this time his movements were more fluid and natural. He plucked the bowl from the ledge and breathed a puff of air into the chamber, causing the spent grey ashes to fly into the air and scatter nearby. He then plunked another wad of the leafy, green material into the pipe, and here he offered it to her first before returning to his original position. "The first hit is always the best," he added; it seemed likely that most smokers fashioned cigarette-like joints to smoke, rather than carrying around fragile glassware. The joints required one initial burst of flame to stay lit, too, whereas the pipes had to be relit near constantly. He wouldn't assume she had already considered the finer details of ingesting the substance in such a fashion.
@&#&$With this task complete, he was content to return to their earlier conversation. Her words hinted at some sort of sadness or turmoil, but he wished not to draw on such negativity. "Surely you don't give yourself enough credit; I don't think anyone would get me onto one of those boats without a fight," he offered with a small, genuine laugh. "I can't imagine being at the mercy of the waves--though I suppose without risk there is no opportunity for gain. I'm glad to hear that things worked out for you--guess they did for both of us." Anselm could hardly complain about his current position, and somehow that made the past all the more bearable. Perhaps he wouldn't appreciate being a respected member in a stable pack if he hadn't had to serve as a Mafia-esque grunt in the war-torn land of his youth.
@&#&$Lost in thought he just vaguely became aware of her eyes upon him, and his head swivelled to peer at her curiously--sexual tension had run thick throughout their entire encounter, though only now did his cheeks burn hot: he hadn't expected her to be so direct. She was returning the bowl to him and he took it from her carefully, as if it were some sacred sacrament. Any tension or uncertainty diminished, seemingly leaving his body in the same cloud of smoke that hung in the air around them. "I do believe," he stated in an even, good-natured tone, "that I am much too high to be tethered to anything at the moment." A grin, as he handed the pipe back to her for another hit: "And how about you, mi belleza de plata--do you care to fly?" [/html]
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^_^ In another thread, Ghita's having her pups! =D You'll have to come and meet them! Also, Ghita = tease. XD I was wondering if we could end it here or next post? Wc: 450+
She nodded, accepting Anslem's creed as her own. "There's an extent to which we try to believe that." She mused, grimacing at the same time. If she were a stronger person, or perhaps one with more apathy, she would succeed in holding up this façade of being invincible. At least those that don't know her well took that to be true. She watched the sunset, dimly aware of how fast the night ran to catch up with the day, letting the colors echo in her eyes as she leaned onto her back, so she could see the sky without craning her neck any longer.
With a mixture of amusement and curiosity, she regarded the male scooting closer to her with the same expression a kindergarten teacher would give a pupil. His movements were like watching a furred river run down a hill, with the subtleties hidden in rippling muscles and well-toned limbs. Still appreciative, she regarded her companion for a moment longer than she should have, a moment lasting before them before she understood what holding the bowl towards her was supposed to mean. Eyeing it, she shook her head, a playful smile dancing across her lips. "The best is enough for me, grazie though."
The foreign substance circulating her system was beginning to wear down, the misty tranquility and content lifting slowly but surely. As she sobered up, she listened to what her companion was saying to her, aware that there was subtle courting flashing between them. Smiling graciously, she appreciated what he said, although behind her eyes there was the same disappointment. "Don't lavish compliments where they aren't merited - If you faced the same situation you'd get on anything to get away. Once you understand the water, it becomes your friend. But then again, I'm Marino - practically the ocean." Ghita hazarded a smile before continuing on.
"I suppose things did work out, in the end. I hold fond memories for Italia, no doubt, but I don't think I'd like to return." His eyes boring into hers startled her a little bit, but she took it as an invitation to sit up, listening to his response carefully, and gaging it. Listening, a different calibre of smile lit her face, one that held uncertainty behind it. She watched the setting sun for a moment, only then realizing that she had a home to return to. "Ach, mi bello" She sighed, dragging herself to her paws in a crouched position. "I'll have to take a raincheck, my sorella tends to get worried if I am not back by nightfall." Taking his hand bravely in her own, she left a small kiss on it, a small wink casually tossed aside. "We can meet again here, I trust?"
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Anselm was somewhat intrigued; he couldn't figure out what would be so horrific that only a large-scale relocation could remedy the problem. As bad as things got in Vermont, he'd felt no overwhelming need to go any further than where they were now--and in the grand scheme of things, his birth place and Nova Scotia weren't that far apart. It wasn't a trivial journey that could be made every other month without disrupting his life in Inferni, but if he ever wished to return it would hardly be some monumental task. To bid farewell with such finality to the world you knew was a bold act, but for now he was content to agree to disagree. Perhaps if a hoard of assassins were out for her blood he would understand, but that she spoke fondly of her motherland made him doubt that this was the case. Emotional turmoil just didn't register on his radar, especially in his present state of mind.
He did note, however, that their little rendezvous was drawing to a close. That she declined his offer was only mildly upsetting--she had done it in the nicest way possible, of course. Her final gestures had thrown his foggy mind off for several moments, and only when she inquired about a future meeting did he blink slowly and nod. I usually come through here at least twice a week, he confirmed. The sound of his own voice served to rouse him from his reverie, and he regarded her carefully as she got ready to go. I'll be looking forward to it, he said simply, though his tone lacked the suggestiveness it held moments before. He knew better than to assume any promise in her words--but still, he had enjoyed her company and if the opportunity arose again he would be content to look and not touch. Tell Savina I said hello, he added as an afterthought, watching as she made her way from the rooftop to the ground below.
The garage was suddenly lonely, but he remained perched atop the structure regardless. Taking another hit, he closed his eyes and inhaled what lingered of her scent as deeply as the smoke itself. By the time they opened once more, he could pick out constellations in the sky.
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