[p] like anchors in hopeless waters
#1
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Setting Location Form NPCs
Location: Thornbury, CdA

Date: 07 Sept

Weather: Overcast, cloudy, faintly foggy

Time: Pre-dusk
Optime
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302


Vasiliy is by me!

It was late summer, and the early evening was wonderful this time of year. Vasiliy marveled in it -- the brief, lovely summer of his homeland could not compare to this. Surely he was a creature of winter and cold, but Vasiliy did not appreciate only the dark season. He was a lover of nature and therefore found the same joy in the throes of summer as he did the depths of winter. His dark-tipped ears pricked to listen to the crickets and he slowed his walk back to the village just to listen.

With most of the evening occupied by fishing, the dark-hued Russian had quite the catch. There was a large bass slung over his shoulder, an impressively-sized striper. It was the only thing he'd caught that day, but that was quite alright -- with a fish of this size, he'd have no problem making a meal and then some. Moving a little more quickly, the dark-hued man passed through the garden, carefully stepping around the plants as he went. He was still afraid of falling over or otherwise accidentally crushing them, and so took great care.

There were a few orange-yellow lights in the village -- candles or fires, Vasi could not be certain. For his part, he was rather quick to dip into the rear of his yard. The fish were cooked quickly enough, and Vasiliy returned to the front of his house, munching over the half of his meal he'd taken with him. He thought he might crack and taste one of the bottles he'd obtained by trade -- it was not a Sobirat'sya liquor night yet, though if he imbibed the trader's moonshine and found it wanting in proof, he might well end up opening a Sobirat'sya bottle.

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#2
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(376)

Robert huffed as he lifted another load of books from off his desk, and started to make his way across the bedroom with careful steps. Yesterday it came to his and Eclipse's minds that he was now, in the simplest of terms, living with the woman, and decided to start moving his things around after the initial surprise of their confessions settled down--starting with his books. He had begun to curse himself for being such a hoarder, and then not having the will to leave even one behind. He was not as big as a bookworm he once was, but it seemed he would never conform without his papers and novels.

He somehow managed to reach the front door of Eclipse's house, openning the door with a lack of finesse as he nearly smothered himself with the books he had shacked high when he fumbled with the knob, and after dumping the load of books next to another disheveled pile. He stood before his things and pushed a hand through his mane, rubbing the already tousled hair into another aimless direction. He began for the door once more to retrieve the last pile of the infernal deadweights when the overwhelming, potent smell of cooking fish came to him. At first, he ignored it, knowing that some packmate was enjoying their dinner, but for whatever reason he paused once he reached the road, looking down in the opposite direction of Skye's house, where the smell was coming from.

Maybe he wanted to delay his laborious work with the excuse of visiting a packmate, or perhaps he was truly curious of the strong, yet flavorful stench and it's maker. Robert did not even know his motivations himself. But, he walked down the street anyway, heading for the source of the smell. He noted the sun's position in the sky, and made a sticky note in his mind to keep this trip brief. A few minutes passed as he walked the small number of blocks, and peered at the wolf--he remembered him as man with the odd accent. "Hey, Vasiliy," he greeted once he was within earshot, offering a wave of his hand as well. Even when he somewhat knew the man from the voyage north, he felt no less awkward, yet willing to socialize this time instead of sulking like he had.

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#3
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Vasiliy is by me!

Vasiliy could never get tired of fish. He ate it more frequently than land creatures, truth be told. And yet, he never felt totally and entirely sated with the eating of fish, either. There was nothing quite like a freshly felled deer. The land mammals of this continent were just as magnificent and lovely of taste as those from his homeland -- and yet it was the fish he preferred, still. Vasiliy was smiling to himself over this conundrum when an approaching figure caught his attention, drawing him out of musing and meal both.

He recognized Robert and grinned at the man's greeting, waving one hand. He set aside the fish and stood up. Allo, Robert, he said, quite happy. Would you join for bite? Let me go get, other half around back. Big fish, the wolf said, without a hint of excess pride. Vasiliy was not suffering from a case of arrogance, after all -- he was underconfident in his abilities, actually. And, with that, the dusky-hued wolf turned on his heels and disappeared, fetching the other half of his meal from where he'd left it beside his makeshift grill. When he returned with the other half, he held it out toward Robert, grinning. Enjoy!

Although he remembered the almost stormy silence of the earthen-hued wolf from the voyage, he did not allow this to deter him. Levent had been scared out of his mind on the journey, after all, and he wasn't normally scared out of his mind. The ocean had a funny way of evoking strange emotions, and Vasi could not hold it against Robert or Levent -- after all, his was the strange joy brought about by sailing over the waves.

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#4
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(362) God Rob y u so awkward?

A friendly smirk naturally spread across his face as the foreign twang graced his ears, and finding it peculiar again. While he wasn't a fan of things out of the norm, the accent did perked his interest, mostly about the language he must have spoke, perhaps his culture as well. After all, it was a harmless thing--it was not like his curiosity could possibly get him in trouble in this scenario, it was not as if he was going to wherever by just pondering over it.

He nearly reached out a hand and parted his jaws to interject, not wanting to impose. But, the mention of the fish and eating in the same sentence made his stomach roll, as if it was a wolf begging for a bone to be tossed his way. The additional information of a big fish just sealed the deal for the man, and he nodded at the dusky man as he went scuttling where the scent was strongest. He stepped up to the front of his house by the time he had returned, and Robert accepted the offer graciously. "Thanks, Vasiliy. I think I will enjoy this."

He cut himself a tiny slice of the lean meat and politely munched it down, thinking of what to say now. He planned only for a small greeting, perhaps some small talk, but now that he was eating, he did not want to leave the man that was kind to him. The gentleman would not allow such rudeness. "This fish is very good, Vasiliy, do you know what kind it is? I mean, it's species?" If his small talk could get any more awkward, it did, and things did not help when Robert was extra careful to elaborate and use simple words--not that he found Vasiliy slow, he just didn't want to confuse him. His tongue licked the roof of his mouth, finding it somewhat dry, and kindly asked after a moment's pause, "You have anything to drink, by any chance? Water?" He began to feel a little bad that he was asking so much from the man, and made another note in his mind to somehow repay the guy for his kindness.

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#5
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362 8D HEY WE'RE WORD COUNT TWINS. Also someone REALLY needs to explain to Vasi that art != CdA wolf, lol.


Vasiliy is by me!

The dark-hued Russian was glad to see his fellow packmate enjoying the fish. Vasiliy was not so very good at art, and it was perhaps then nonsensical he'd chosen this pack as his own, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He knew little enough of the foreign packs, anyway. A few names stuck out to him -- Cour des Miracles above all, for his father had been from that pack -- but he was otherwise primarily indifferent to the other groups nearby. His pack was all he needed.

Vasi fiddled with his cigarette case as Robert ate, vaguely awkward with the silence but not wishing to interrupt the earthen-hued male's eating. He arranged his hand-rolled cigarettes neatly in a row and even took one out to fix a corner that had become unrolled, but did not seek to light it. Instead, he tucked it up into his bandanna carefully, leaving it there for later. It was unkind to smoke during a meal, he knew. The silence was shortly thereafter fixed by Robert, and Vasi grinned brightly. Thank you! Vasiliy is glad you like. I think is bass, but what kind bass, I do not know. I would say... line bass, he said, contemplating hard. The fish looked rather like the bass he'd caught at home, except there were wide black stripes along its sides -- invisible now, of course, as the scales and other undesirables had been separated out.

The granite-hued wolf again brightened with Robert's inquiry, but he produced a misshapen bottle. It was glass, but its make was strange and almost crude. It had been crafted by Luperci hands or otherwise repurposed from a human artifact, and so was not so fine as a dusty bottle one might find in a bar. This not water, Vasiliy said, cracking open the bottle. Sobirat'sya alcohol -- very strong. He took a sip himself and winced. Maybe better to save for after eat... he said, shrugging and passing over the bottle of clear liquid to Robert. Careful please? I have only few bottle left, and no more except for around world in mine homeland Russia.

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#6
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(437) 8D !!~ Omg Rob+achohol=funniest thing ever

Robert watched as the man played with something, and observed as he rearranged cigarettes with vague interest. Not many smoked around here, and the natural, teen-esque curiosity poked at his brain, but decided not to ask about them as the man tucked the cigarette under his head garment--which he found a little strange, but again, did not press for an answer. He continued to feed off of the fish as he went on to explain what kind it was. He knew what s bass was, or at least had a pretty good idea, but he became lost at the mention of line bass. But, he did not allow his lack of knowledge to show, and he nodded sagely anyway. "The bass tastes good, in any case--it's a good catch, on your part."

When a drink was requested, Vasiliy reached over and brought out a rather unsightly container, the shadow of its contents squishing like water. But, the faint scent and the man's words proved otherwise. At the mention of waiting to drink after he was finished eating, he hurried and ate the last few bites. He didn't want to keep Vasiliy took long, and a small drink of the stuff wouldn't hurt, right? He had wine before, at the ball, so it couldn't be any different. He gingerly took the bottle from the man, and perked his ears at the warning, and he felt a little guilty. He didn't want to drink something so special, something rare that was from his homeland. The idea of offending him by declining the drink echoed in his mind though, and guessed the only thing he could do was thank him even more for his hospitality.

He was musing over where Vasiliy came from, Russia, when he took a liberal swig of the achocol. The liquid flame that danced down his throat surprised him, and he held the bottle away from him as he spluttered harshly, but managing to keep the fire within him. With a ragged breath, he wheezed, "God, Vasiliy... This is strong." For a moment, he considered handing back the bottle--but if the man could handle it, he could, too, he supposed. He lifted the bottle back up to his lips, and only allow an ember of the inferno to slide into his mouth. It wasn't better the second time around, but at least he wasn't coughing out a lung. He passed the bottle back to Vasiliy, perhaps to start a cycle of passing the achohol back and forth. "Where's Russia, anyway? What kind of place is it?" Must be some hardy people if they could handle that, he thought.

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#7
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370 IMPORTANT NEWSFLASH AT SIX: I suck at posting. And! In the last post, Vasi didn't shove the whole case up under his bandanna -- just a single cigarette. LIKE THOSE SUPER HARDCORE MOB GUYS. They always have cigarettes behind their ears. Right? That's what the TV tells me. ;___; But the image of Vasi shoving a whole cigarette case up under his bandanna = HAHAHAH. He'd do something like that. Maybe he will later in the thread when he's all drunk. 8D 8D 8D


Vasiliy is by Sunny!

Vasiliy absorbed the praise with a broad grin and a slow sweep of his tail. It meant quite a lot to hear the wolf who had seemed averse to the sea before the trade voyage enjoying its fruits. He looked down at the earth and shrugged. Anytime you want, I go catch, he offered. While his skill was not such that he could guarantee this precise type of fish caught each time, the dark-hued wolf had confidence enough to state that he could fish at any time and always find something edible. Sometimes that was clams and oysters, but those weren't bad, either.

Thinking of molluscs had inspired Vasiliy to want to catch a rather large batch of the shelled creatures. They weren't a commonly eaten thing, and though perhaps some would find it too strange and exotic, Vasiliy knew there were still others who would appreciate the new taste. He was absorbed in these grandiose plans when Robert took his sip; quickly, however, his pale blue eyes returned to Robert and his mind snapped to the present. Though he reached out one hand cautiously, as if to catch the bottle, Robert's grip remained strong. The dark-hued wolf only grinned broadly and nodded his agreement at the compliment. He had never been a brewer, but the compliment extended to all of Sobirat'sya, as he saw it.

He reached to take the bottle and tilted it back, sipping almost daintily. He smacked his lips thereafter and held the bottle on his lap as he spoke. To get here, I cross many land. Cold, strong land -- like mine homeland -- at first. Then soft warm lands. Then, I cross ocean -- many weeks on ocean, working for captain, only eat fish. Not so bad, but everyone does not like water like Vasiliy. He smiled at this, and shrugged. It is place, like any other. I would not go back. The journey had been too long, too arduous -- and more importantly, he'd have to face the scorn of his family upon returning. The dark-hued Russian tilted the bottle back to his lips, shrugged once more, and passed it back to Robert. You want travel? he asked dubiously.

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#8
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oh oops. D8 that's what I get for not paying attention--BUT YEAH DO IT L8er LOL. and I change to a sheep table cause idga /cool like dat


It was rare to eat fish, with his hunting abilities we limited on land, much less on water. It was a strange taste, but since eating different things (Eclipse's spiced cooking provided that experience) he became more open-minded about what he put in his mouth other than roasted and raw meat. He grinned as the man gave out his offer, and he replied, "I won't forget that. Hunting isn't my strongest suit--a book can't really catch a rabbit or a squirrel." Of course, he was teasing, and wouldn't have the gall to ask Vasiliy to take his time to fish for him; he always managed in the end, one way or another, so he never went without eating.


While the fire burned him, he saw in the corner of his vision of the man reflexively reaching out for the bottle, but luckily his hands tightened instead of slacken as he attempted to get over the shock of the alcohol. He also caught sight of his grin that had spread over his muzzle at his words, and through the last of his coughs, he managed a weak smile back in reply. Yeah, whoever managed to make this deserved a pat on the back, the liquid being so vivid and unique it was surprising to find that this sort of flavor even existed.

Robert listened as Vasiliy explained his travels, and attempted to assign pictures to the descriptions he weaved. Sadly, being only in Nova Scotia, all he came up was a scene of the forest surrounding Thornbury in the winter for the place similar to the man's homeland, then one that was very much like the present time, but warmer, he supposed. At the mention of the water, though, he came up blank, and blinked in surprise as he spoke of how long it took for them to travel across that water. And he thought he couldn't stand a few days in a boat, to be in it for weeks on end would drive him mad.

He grasped the bottle as it was handed back to him, and he shook his head at Vasiliy's question. "Nah, I have no reason to." He took a somewhat bigger sip of the liquid, and he felt more comfortable with how it slithered down his throat, somewhat accustomed to the taste enough to tolerate it without having to pause. "There's nowhere I want to go--I have everything I need here. My family, my things. There isn't much more I would want." He took another swig, and handed back the bottle. As he leaned forward, he felt a little woozy, but he didn't think much of it. "Why did you leave Russia, if you don't mind me asking?" he prompted, settling back into his seat.

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#9
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403 8D ♥


Vasiliy is by Raze!

Vasiliy considered his earthen-hued companion's words with an unmistakable air of solemnity. After a long moment of consideration, the Russian grinned. Sure can hunt with book! Just got to throw hard enough. He laughed at his own joke, slapping a hand against his knee. No, I kid. Books for read, not for throw. Truth be told, most of the books on this side of the plant were just about useless to Vasiliy -- he could not read the strange letters of the English language and had yet to find a book written in Russian. He figured even if he did find a book in Russian, it would be on the most boring possible subject and completely uninteresting to him.

The cloud-hued wolf was rather used to discussing his origins -- while some might have been bothered by the same conversations, Vasiliy found he always learned something new. Sometimes these new things concerned the world or himself; still other times they were about his conversational companions. The dusky-hued wolf took the bottle in return and listened, holding the alcohol for a moment. While Vasiliy was not the sort to actively avoid drunkenness, he had experience enough to savor it and keep from blacking out or otherwise massively overdoing it. Already there was a pleasant fuzziness about the world. Yes, he declared, and waved a hand around him to indicate Cercatori d'Arte as a whole.

I like it here also. I do not want leave. I go from Russia when... it did not feel like home anymore. It was a more honest answer than he provided most. Mine father -- he get sick, and afterward, not right in head anymore. Before that I already feel like Sobirat'sya... not really right, not really mine place. But after? No reason to stay, really. He felt a pang of guilt at the thought of his mother and grandmother. So there were two reasons to stay, two reasons Sobirat'sya was still his place -- but they were not enough to anchor him to his father and the rest of his stranger family. But -- that is okay. All the world away. He twirled his finger in the air and shrugged, smiling. Here I have good forest, good beach, good friends -- good pack. What more? I do not want to leave, he repeated. Now he swigged at the bottle and passed it back to Robert, shaking his head and smiling.

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