for blood and whiskey.

Rurik Russo · 01-26-2010, 07:50 AM

[html]

Quartz Shoreline.

The silver-furred werewolf had traveled the coast today, giving the pack he knew to be Phoenix Valley a wide berth. He did not wish to accidentally cross their territory and anger one of those wolves—he might have been friendly enough with Jantus, but he did not want to anger his band of people. Though they certainly sounded fearsome, he assumed he'd be perfectly safe if he remained on their good side, and Rurik was interested in remaining on everyone's good side; he did not want to end up on the wrong side of anything. By his calculations there was no point in making war; protection and self-defense were one thing, but the Russian werewolf did not wish to engage anyone violently unless there was dire need.

Though it was winter, today had brought a rather warm day to the lands; the silver-furred werewolf was quite glad for this. Sometimes he almost wished he enjoyed the taste of fish—today would be a lovely day to spend on the beach, wasting it away trying to catch a fish or two. However, Rurik knew such a catch would simply be wasted; he would not eat fish and he damn well knew it. He'd been forced enough times in his life so that the very thought of it made his stomach turn, though there had been nothing to be done over it in his youth. Zinoviya had absolute control over the dinner table and what went on it, so he'd had no choice.

The pale-furred wolf meandered along the rocky beach, hunkered down against the wind. It was not so cold, but the chill off of the ocean still nipped at his fur. He leaned back against a rock, scuttling backwards to sit on it, his tail curled about his hip. Leaning an elbow against his knee, he contemplated the current affairs of things. He'd checked out Cour des Miracles the other day, and while it was quite a nice place and he rather enjoyed Strelein's company, he wasn't so sure about the distance between himself and Inferni. He certainly believed Silas was safe under Gabriel's care; after all, the tawny-furred Aquila had done nothing but evince concern regarding his own children. The Russian sighed, digging a toe into the cold sand. There was a rather dreary quality to today, Rurik thought. Good company would certainly brighten it up a bit, but it wouldn't seem there was any to be had at the moment, so he remained where he was, contemplating life and other such important things.

Corona Lykoi · 01-31-2010, 03:15 AM

Rambles, rambles, rambles. It's my middle name. Half of this post has nothing to do with anything, I swear.
[html]

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj31 ... rp/th5.png) no-repeat top center; font: 10pt/16px times new roman; color: black; text-align: justify;">

She had initially been set on going to Halifax to see what she could scavenge, but the trip through the Dampwoods had certainly derailed that idea. She hadn’t been through that forest since her father had died and it was quite strange the feeling that she received from it. It was almost as through a chill had draped itself upon her from the moment she had set a foot over some imaginary, familiar threshold deep in the forestry. It was something of a delayed reaction, a feeling that she had not been able to totally experience following his absence. How strange it was to roam a place in which he had lived for so long. And not just him, but Laruku too, and Jasper as well. It was perhaps the absence of Jasper that bothered Corona the most, as she had not been able to find hide nor hair of him inside of the mansion.

She didn’t wish to trouble Gabriel as to where he could have gone and despite her better attempts to think nothing of it, she worried. In some ways he had reminded her of herself at a younger age, clingy to a relative. But she had been turned out by the shadow that had lurked within and he had been ousted by the apparent lost of both parents and subsequent siblings, only coupled by being surrounded by those who would probably have liked to tear him limb from limb. Her experience had hardened her, so absently she couldn’t help but wonder if it were for the best.

After all, if she had survived, then perhaps he would too.

Through the thinning forestry came the other side of the peninsula and the brackish air of the ocean; something in which Corona had less interest in on any other day. But today she was intrigued by the curve of the earth, well aware of what lied on the other side of that curve. Civility, properness, adventure; two of the former which couldn’t have been found there if they had tried and the latter something one could experience provided they survived. It was standing there that made her know she could not understand what it was that had drawn her back, other than the very thing that she had denied in her blood all along. She had lived the proper life, seen what she had wanted to see if the world, but in the end all she seemed to care about was what madness bubbled beneath the surface of that place.

Despite the ongoing beat of a wardrum at her back, she was generally oblivious to her surroundings. It was out there which she doubted being attacked and given her proximity to the ocean and the sand that stretched out behind her, anyone foolish enough to try and sneak up on her would be sorely mistaken to believe she wasn’t listening. It was an automatic reaction; they were aloud to sight see if they realised anyone was liable to approach. Didn’t matter if they were friend or foe; it wasn’t often that any canine was caught completely off-guard by another.

[/html]

Rurik Russo · 02-10-2010, 04:19 AM

[html]

http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurik_bottledrage.jpg); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 245px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;">

HAI I LOVE YOU

The cloud-colored werewolf was not particularly optimistic today. He'd been contemplating his elder children lately; despite his efforts he had heard nothing of them. The closest he'd come had been Gabriel's mention of one of them being artistic—and didn't it show what a poor parent he was that from the golden-furred hybrid's description he did not even know which of his sons was artistic! He assumed it was not Zorish. Blindness certainly hindered artistic ability, though that hadn't seemed to stop his son in many other areas of life. Rurik hoped that his lack of sight had not led him to ruin or death—the world was a cruel place, crueler so for one deprived of his senses.

Rurik was painfully aware his younger children were not so young anymore—they were a year and a year and four months old today. They would not be children forever. He could do nothing to vitiate them as young adults; he would refrain from clinging to them and trying to keep them close. It was their right, he knew, and so he had not hesitated when Silas had headed to Inferni. He did worry about his son, though, and his attempt to gain information about her earlier in the day hadn't worked out so well. Now he was drifting aimlessly, feeling rather disconnected from Silas. This upset him, and he stood up, turning into the wind.

As if it was some kind of sign, the scent of an Inferni canine blew his way. She was unfamiliar to him; the silver-furred werewolf certainly didn't identify her as one of Gabriel's siblings by scent alone. But the fact that she was of Inferni was enough for him—after all, Rurik didn't smell like any pack. He'd hung out in Cour des Miracles some weeks ago, sure, but by now Strelein's scent and the pack scent had long faded from his coat. The Russian wolf moved toward the scent, absently tracking it and making no moves to conceal his approach. It would do him no good to go sneaking up to anybody. Waving a paw in the air and offering a wave, he halted several feet away. “Hey there, kisa,” he said, a friendly smile placed on his muzzle.

Corona Lykoi · 03-03-2010, 02:48 AM

[html]It was a little abnormal for her to be so side tracked, this she was well aware of. Corona often stuck to the plans that she made and carried them out without so much of a care to let anyone else know. Like today, she doubted that any one in particular would note her absence from the territory. Though obviously if she were gone any length of time that was unnecessary, she expected that it would be that in which was noticed. But concerning others had never been a real big issue with her. In all honesty, she doubted today that she would accomplish which she had set out to do — it had been foolish of her to think that she could have ever left and come back free of whatever baggage lingered around.

However, it was the approach of someone else which waylaid any thoughts that she had. For the longest time as the silvery werewolf came up the shoreline, Corona watched him from the corner of her eye, though it was definitely apparent to her after a while that he had no mind to do any harm. His appearance was largely harmless, though there was a certain ring of familiarity about him that suggested she should have known him. Though they had never crossed paths, she unknowingly had heard of him before and in more than one way. He waved, but she didn’t return it.

Instead, she was fascinated with his accent.

“Are you really from Russia, or just east Europe?” Though there were distinctions between Russian and Ukrainian, she wasn’t familiar with them. Corona had placed her stock into the language of her father, which had been German. But she had been to Europe but that didn’t mean much. Accents varied and muddied together there like snow melted into water, though his was much too thick to have been just a temporary ruse. Yet there was just enough of distinction to make her query it all the same.[/html]

Rurik Russo · 03-04-2010, 07:42 AM

[html]

http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurikmaritgift.png); background-position:bottom; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-color:#005ac7; border:1px solid #444477;">

The silver-furred Russian was something of a free spirit—he certainly hated being tied down too long, and he knew even this venture on the present continent was only temporary. Home called, far and distant cities beckoned. Rurik had never stopped moving, really—the five years since he'd turned two were spent in various places, his time scattered about the globe. He didn't know that he could ever really settle; it seemed against every instinct in his body. At least it had been unexpectedly didactic; he had learned more about life and culture on his journeying than he'd ever imagined.

Though the other canine didn't appear to have the same outgoing quality as he did, such a thing had never stopped the silver-furred werewolf before—and as soon as she spoke, it was his turn to be surprised. It was rare that others were able to peg his accent or even surmise where he was from at all, and he could not help but appear pleased. “Oh, I am from Russia, but East Europe is nice, too,” he said, his tone completely lacking in boastfulness. He was not one to brag, generally. “How do you know mine motherland?” he asked eagerly. She didn't sound very Russian to him; he thought she was from right around here by her own accent, but such a thing certainly didn't exclude her from having visited Russia in her lifetime.

Corona Lykoi · 04-07-2010, 02:16 AM

[html]

He was surprised, but pleasantly so. And curious for that matter, not that Corona would have expected him not to be. He was out of place and as it were, she had some world travels under her belt. Some accents were just too unique to be forgotten and it was those which belonged to the creatures in the places she had not gone that earned her interest, especially those of the civilised world. She doubted she would ever see Russia, because she had so little interest of going back through Europe.

“I spent time overseas. I’ve heard the accent before, though you’re a bit clearer than the others I remember.” He had been away for a while, she supposed. It wasn’t exactly easy to ship off from east Canada without going off the peninsula and to a port, that much she knew. “How long have you been in these parts?” But little did she know that she was talking to someone who was in fact, acquainted with her mother and father in very different extremes. She probably should have known, but it had been so long ago.

Everything had been so long ago.

Rurik Russo · 04-15-2010, 05:53 AM

[html]

sdmsdf,msdklfskdf!!!!

It was always a compliment to hear his accent hadn't faded any—Rurik often spent time away from home, but he always went back to Sobirat'sya eventually. It was simply that he didn't seem to remain in any place for too long, and he had given up trying—he knew this Cour des Miracles thing was only temporary, though he was not absolutely certain on when he would leave. It wasn't anytime soon, of course, and he was willing to dedicate himself entirely to the pack in the meantime, but he knew the wide world would come calling again, and he would see the vast expanses of the water in front of him once more, with the rocking of the ship beneath his feet and the wind in his hair.

“I am glad mine homeland is not totally out of mine voice,” he admitted, his grizzled muzzle splitting into a smile. “I have only been here since the fall of last year, but prior to zis I spend time here twice before. It was up a way nort' from here, in pack called Syemv. Second time I vas with Aremys,” he explained, though he added very quickly to his thoughts. “I am not one of those who don't like Inferni, though,” he said. Rurik knew there were tensions between the coyotes and the other canines of this world; he was not one who held prejudices, not at all. “Nothing against coyotes,” he said cheerily. “Vhere in old world did you see?” the werewolf asked, curious.

Corona Lykoi · 05-06-2010, 03:05 AM

[html]

He had been around, long enough that in fact she knew she should have known him. Or at least known of him. Syemv wasn’t out of her memory, though she knew that they had been well acquainted with Chimera. Inferni too, though she knew that things had gone into disrepair eventually. Any agreements that had ever been between the two were long time, not that it mattered much anyway since Syemv was long gone. She thought to comment on all of it, thought almost to bring up what was surely a sordid history of life on the other side of the mountains, but her tongue held. If anything, some things were just better left unsaid.

“I spent some time in France with family,” she started out saying, “and then on another stint, I visited what was left of London. Or what maintained, anyway. As much of a port city as it is now, I’ve seen and heard my fair share of dialects.” Dialects were of course, not the only thing. But she long lost interest in languages outside of what she knew. “I never went very far east into the rest of the continent, after that. The last time I was on a boat, it was to come back here from much warmer climates.” And that had only been because of Marlowe; otherwise Corona imagined that she would have still been there in the remnants of Brazil.

[/html]

Rurik Russo · 05-07-2010, 07:13 AM

[html]

http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurik_tide.jpg);">

ololo~

Indeed, it would seem they had lived lives in close proximity with one another for some time, though their separate timelines had ran very close, they had never crossed until this very moment. “Family, ah? I lose some of that here, myself,” the werewolf said, a lopsided grin coming to his face. “London is good, but I spend a month there and I want to stay away for years,” the silver-furred werewolf said, shaking his head. There was only so much tolerance he had for the big city—too long and he felt rotten inside.

“I never go very sout',” the cloud-colored man commented, slowly settling down to the earth. He opened up his flask rather nonchalantly and drew a long sip from it, offering over to the tawny-furred woman. “I like the cold, you know?” the werewolf said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Sobirat'sya, it is almost on top of the world. Winter is very cold there,” the man said, offering that as explanation for his avoidance of the warmer climates. “What bring you back here?” the man asked, wondering why she had returned to such a place. She seemed to have been all over the world, like him—his types generally didn't return to the same places unless there was something particularly important left behind.

Corona Lykoi · 05-16-2010, 01:22 AM

[html]

He didn’t need to explanation why a month in London was enough to drive him away, because she understood. Not even the charred lands to the north were as jam-packed as London was; there had been enough bodies there to make her insane. But they differed when it came to climates, because Corona had no real preference went it came to the climate. There had been times when the very grounds they stood on had been just as hot and humid as any southern venue, but she could also reason that they had probably been as cold as the Sobirat’sya he spoke of. Though she had to wonder what the world was like from on top, or at least as close as they could get to it without freezing half to death.

Still, she had taken the offered flask and a quick swig from it, barely making a face as the bite of the alcohol met her tongue. Keen on her sobriety, she had never really been one for drinking. There was apprehension towards the liquid, because she knew what it could do, she knew that she didn’t mind the taste, and there was perhaps a well-buried fear of what she would do if she took too much of a liking to it. The same went for everything else — Corona had always been blessed with stellar example of what too much of a good thing did.

That said, she couldn’t answer his question. She shrugged. What had brought her back here? A nagging, a feeling, a persistent sense of being misplaced everywhere else that she had never gone? It wasn’t that well-defined, let alone easy to pin down. “I guess there’s just something about this place that I can’t shake. I have a lot of family here too, so maybe that has something to do with it.” She wished she could have been more humorous about it. It would have been a lot more entertaining if it was simply to keep her siblings out of trouble, but she had no ties to them outside of Gabriel. It wasn’t to care for her mother, because she was capable of doing that on her own.

“What makes you stay here and not go back to your home?”

[/html]

Rurik Russo · 05-18-2010, 06:36 AM

[html]

http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurik_bottledrage.jpg); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:1px solid #000000; padding: 245px 0px 0px 0px; font-family: georgia, sans-serif; font-size:12px; color:#000000; line-height:16px; letter-spacing:.5px; text-align:justify;">

Rurik is like blah blah blah.

City life was fine for some, but not for Rurik—he liked being around his family well enough, but too long there and it even started to grate his nerves. Perhaps it was simply because he had never had his own place—every time he returned to Sobriat'sya, he simply stayed in his childhood room, rather similar to the way he'd left it. His mother and father always happily housed him. Perhaps if he were to secure his own living quarters in the Sobirat'sya compound, he would do better. The silver-shaded man watched as the golden-hued woman took the flask, appreciative that she did not sputter at the sharp taste. “So you dreenk,” he commented, taking back the small thing and tilting it toward her, having a sip of the tipple himself. He liked that in a lady, of course. He set the thing back down between them and listened, tilting his head to the side at her comment. “Family always drag you back, I zheenk,” the silver-furred werewolf said. “Well. I come here with my two young kids, Silas and Liliy. Anatoliy come later. I want them to learn about life over here, experience this place—plus, I look for my older sons, Zaets, Zorish, and Vladimir. I lose them when I vos younger, when Aremys and Syemv vos around,” the werewolf explained. He wasn't doing so for the sake of sharing his sad tale—he figured the wider number of people who heard his desire to find his children, the better his chances were of finding them. “I am a roamer, too,” he added, smiling. “I like to see lots of places, but some are worth coming back to,” the Marquis explained.

Corona Lykoi · 06-09-2010, 08:01 PM

That's okay, his blah blah blahs are better than Corona's. XD
[html]

So he had children that had been here. Fantastic, but only thought and written with utmost sarcasm that resounded in Corona’s mind uneasily. She didn’t really understand the allure of everything, but she could hardly account or explain her own motives. He wasn’t from around here and she could reckon to bet that he knew exactly what kind of a place it was that they were standing at the shore of. But maybe there was something along the lines of good parenting to be found there too, seeing how he had brought his youngest children there for the experience. It was as if he may have unintentionally suggested to her that he was showing that the world was not all sunshine and flowers. Or maybe they were all so screwed up and turned around that they would like it more than civility and familiarity.

But she was taking the liberty of assuming his home was anything like that, and the thought was very quick to pass. So quick to pass that it hardly mattered; she listened idly, though not focused on him entirely any more. Instead she eyed the sea, the only notion of her attention left in a single turned ear. “I roam lot too,” she commented. “Just not when I’m here. This isn’t really a place for roaming around, but I’m sure you know that already.” But she wasn’t sure of the worth that was here. She had come back for Gabriel, because he was the only one left that had ever made her feel like she belonged.

“Who knows how long I’ll stay this time around, though. Sometimes I think it would be much better to go off to greener pastures, but I think I’ve been here too long to ever really enjoy those either,” she went on to say. Corona didn’t dare acknowledge the fact that she knew she wouldn’t enjoy them because she didn’t enjoy anything. Emotion was a fuzzy thing for her to grasp in the present, though she had always had a firm grip on it in the past. Now it was just easier not to care as much, not to engage someone else in anything, whether it was company or conversation, though she did it. Habits were habits; even she couldn’t quite shake the sociability out of herself entirely.

[/html]

Rurik Russo · 06-15-2010, 08:42 AM

[html]

http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurikmaritgift.png); background-position:bottom; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-color:#005ac7; border:1px solid #444477;">

I GOT A KUPOST YAYAYAYA

The silver-shaded werewolf knew the allure of the open world; he had hardly explored even a fiftieth of its vast lands, let alone the oceans wide. Rurik held no notion of sailing around the world or even seeing the whole damn thing—it would take more lifetimes than he had left to do such a thing, and it was far too late even in this life to undertake such an endeavor. Even so, it was alright—he knew which places mattered most. Sobirat'sya would always be home, and it would always wait for him there. He needn't worry about that place going anywhere. This one, on the other hand, had nearly burned to the ground, and with it had gone all visible traces of the life he'd once lived here, that life with Syemv and Aremys. The silvery werewolf could hardly miss it, however—it seemed almost a different life now.

“Oh no. Zhe packs are very nice, though,” he said, smiling. He only knew Cour des Miracles remotely well, however—he'd met a few Aniwayans and a few of Cour des Miracles and Phoenix Valley, but thus far he'd had little interaction with Dahlia de Mai. “Well, most of them. I am sorry about your war,” he added, frowning. “I worry for Silas, you know?” he added, taking another sip of the flask and setting it in between them again. He could no more prevent Silas from doing what he wanted than he could move a boulder, however—such things were simply impossible. “Zhis place does not make you happy?” he asked, frowning at her. Thick-skulled as he was, even Rurik could sense the discontent hanging about the tawny-furred woman.

Corona Lykoi · 06-16-2010, 03:24 AM

[html]

Corona didn’t know anything about the other packs. Esper Hollow had really been the only one she had ever interacted with, and needless to say it was long gone, along with the weird disease it had brought to the lands. She knew the names of a few others, but only because they had either had poor or extremely bad ties to Inferni. Dahlia de Mai and Phoenix Valley. There had been others, of course, but they no longer mattered to her, and surprisingly enough they were long gone anyway.

When he mentioned a Silas, it didn’t ring a bell. It probably should have though, considering Silas sat within Inferni’s ranks. He was above her as far as the chain of command went, or so she would have assumed; Corona was hardly a participant within her brother’s clan to have made an impact to earn anything but a place to stay. Blood alone did that for her anyway. She made no comments for the longest time though as he spoke easily, as his apologies for the war mostly fell on deaf ears. Perhaps one could have thought to speculate that from her apathy towards the war, and the eventual pessimism towards its so-called end that perhaps Corona liked it better when blood was on the ground.

But finally, it was her time to shine once again. “I don’t know, maybe yes and no. My family is here and naturally that’s reason enough for anyone to stay. But I’ve had my taste of finer places. Civilised places, places that I was raised to emulate. Yet I like to keep my distance from both groups.” It was easy to tell a stranger these things. She didn’t expect to see him again after their meeting; he would probably go astray like they all did. “I don’t feel much of anything, any more. I’ve never had such apathy in my life.”

Rurik Russo · 06-16-2010, 04:20 AM

[html]

lmkdglsgkskm

Although the ash-dusted male was certainly a roamer at heart, he was not beyond holding attachment to particular places—Sobirat'sya would always be home, and this place held some kind of allure, too. Maybe it was directly relative to his elder children and their early lives here, and how much distance was between them now. Rurik didn't tend to contemplate these things—he gravitated toward some places, and that was all he knew. He generally didn't contemplate deeper aspects of life. The silver-shaded werewolf leaned backwards, studying the gold-hued woman with his bright-blue eyes. He was trying to figure her out—he did not understand distancing himself from others, and his immediate solution for her was of course, to get out and make more friends. Such was Rurik's answer for everything—friendship or vodka. When one failed, the other was generally there to pick him up and carry him forward. “Maybe you need someone to help you feel once again?” he suggested. For maybe once in his life, this wasn't said with direct innuendo—he honestly wasn't thinking of himself to fill this space. Maybe that was better for her in the end anyway—it wasn't as if he was good for commitment and real emotional support. He lifted the flask again, rolling one shoulder in a shrug. “You feel nozhing when you look at zhe world?” he asked, frowning at the very thought.

OOC Ending: Rurik and Corona keep drinking and have a sorrowful-ass weepy emo conversation and eventually part ways!

[/html]

Login




Remember me Lost Password?