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369.727273 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She hadn't spoken to Marianne Wilburn in... Hell, a few weeks now? Time sure did fly when you were trying to avoid getting mauled by packs of rabid dogs, huh? \n\nBut that didn't matter too much; in her opinion, you didn't need to see someone all the time to stay friends with them. She could go a year, even a decade, and pick right back up where she left off. Just ask Carina Templeton— she knew that Dimitra didn't hold a grudge for that kind of thing, even when laying on her death bed. \n\nBut Marianne had been going through it lately, hadn't she? What, with Francis biting the dust and all... Well, she could only imagine she wasn't in the best way. She'd thought of visiting her but God, time really did get away from ya, didn't it? She felt really awful about it, too. \n\nBut Dimitra had thought about maybe making her something to eat, maybe a pie or tart or something to try and lift the spirits. She was still aching from those months ago, another reason to not making the trek to the Wilburn house— but it seemed fate would deliver the mourner to her doorstep that day. \n\nShe had been tidying up, setting about to try and make something of her little house, when the knock came. It wasn't *Fragile*, but it was soft, not the solid knock of someone with important business... Like the police. \n\nShe didn't bother peeking as she opens the door and paused, seeing Marianne on the other side of it. \"Oh, look what the cat dragged in!\" She said, already stepping forward to envelope her friend in a tight hug before she could barely get a word in. She squeezed her tight and winced at the feeling she gave her own bones, but ignored it in favor of squeezing so tight. \n\n\"How're you doing, huh? Holding up alright?\" Dimitra asked, pulling back enough to get a look at Marianne's face for her answer."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Enough, Marianne thought, was enough. \n\nThe ache of grief, of loss she had hoped to never experience again for as long as she were to live, was never-ending. It weighed upon her shoulders like a cloak inlaid with rocks chipped from the ridge itself, dragged her down with every breath she took, with every morning she was cursed to wake up and remember, again and again, that despite all she had had and fought for and clung to, she had been left alone again. \n\nShe was not, however, entirely alone in this world, a fact that she had neglected to remind herself of throughout the duration of her mourning period. There were those that had taken it upon themselves to take the climb up to the house and visit her despite her inhospitable state, faces who had turned up at her door on the night of the full moon and spent the night in the living room listening to the unearthly howls. \nShe did not have to be alone. \n\nAnd that was why, one morning late in April, almost three months to the day since Francis had closed his eyes for the last time and left this life for the next, Marianne wrapped a parcel of raspberry-vanilla cookies she'd spent the previous afternoon baking, polished her boots, and untucked her silver locket from inside her blouse. She was not yet quite ready to shed her mourning-dress, but she would show just a little more of her old self from this day forth, she was determined. \n\nIt did not take her long to reach Dimitra's doorstep, though her pace left her somewhat breathless by the time it came to knocking. Not that it mattered, for any air she might have had in her lungs left them forcibly when her friend flung her arms around her and held on for dear life. \n\nThe Marianne of old might have burst into tears at the mere touch of a familiar hand.\n\nThis one held her composure, though she couldn't deny herself the moment of companionship, the feeling of *Safety* When it came to breathing in the scent of Dimitra's perfume. \nWhen the question came, she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat before she quite dared to give a response. \n\n\"I'm... Ah. If I'm to be truly honest with you, Mimi, things are worse than they've been in a long time. But no matter, for I'll heal just fine in the end of it, and it's a blessing I get to heal at all. Wounds of the heart ain't so pressing to be fixed as those of the flesh.\" She sighed softly, and held out the cookies, a peace offering. She should have brought these months ago. \"For you. I actually came to ask a favour.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She was a tactile creature, and she hadn't even let the woman go properly. She set the cookies aside and focused purely on Marianne; lifting her hand and tucking some of the hair behind her ear, brushing it away from her face and getting a good look at her. Her hand even came to cup her cheek, like a mother might do to soothe a child weeping from a scraped knee. \n\n\"I should've come to see you sooner,\" She chastised herself, shaking her head and pulling Marianne into her little woodland cottage. It was warm and inviting inside, and she gestured for Marianne to have a seat. \"A favor? Please, I can do whatever you want, no questions asked.\" \n\nShe slid into the spot beside her on the couch, and she draped an arm around her shoulders. \"Whatever you need, I'm right here. Even if it's to kill and hide a body, you know I'll do it.\" She winked, before she was sitting up proper to take a cookie and bite into it. \n\nThey were divine, of course, because Marianne was a radiant and brilliant creature on this earth. She didn't deserve to hurt like she was. She wanted to curse Francis, that bastard, for departing to the afterlife so soon. But she wouldn't blame the dead... It wasn't his fault, of course. Though she didn't know where else to place the blame in her head right now, for the ache that settled deep within Marianne, even all these months later."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "\"No- no, it's not your fault none,\" Marianne protested softly, as she allowed Dimitra to take her inside. She had always so loved it here, and had her own house not held so many memories, perhaps she would have liked to downsize to a similar cottage of her own. Dimitra's home was cozy, and felt safe, and was the perfect size for a woman on her own who hosted a friend now and then. She dropped down onto the soft couch cushions, and when Dimitra's arm wrapped around her shoulders, she was powerless to do anything but lean into it, a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding making its way past painted lips. \n\n\"I can promise you I've no bodies to go hiding,\" She assured, and with it, she laughed, and though it were light, she had not heard herself laugh in... Well, months, if she were to be true about it. Simply being in Dimitra's presence was a healer in itself, better than any medicine she might have been able to procure from a doctor. She regretted not coming sooner, though she'd really been in no state for social calls until now. Truth be told, she still wasn't *Entirely* Ready for all of it. But it felt like the correct step to take, albeit a small one. \n\n\"Now you've said that, the real ask seems so... Small. Pathetic, really,\" She admitted, shaking her head and sitting up a little straighter. She reached up to her ponytail, which was tied back in the pretty red bandana Dimitra herself had lent to her all those months ago, and with a little tug, auburn curls tumbled down over her shoulders, down her back, into her *Face*... Tangled, poorly combed, all split-ends and birds-nest knots, and she couldn't help but feel a little shame wash over her. \nCaring for her appearance had been her lowest priority of late. \n\n\"Would you - *Lord*. Mimi, will you cut my hair for me?\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"Well, should you ever need one hidden, you know where to find me. If I can walk past three cops with a bottle of rum up between my legs, I can make quick work of a body,\" Dimitra told Marianne, her hand reaching to squeeze her hand in that comforting way. Dimitra was a chameleon - she was a friend, a lover, a mother to some and a sister to others. She could be anything you needed her to be; she made for a good friend and an even better enemy. \n\nShe beamed internally, to see Marianne still done up in that beautiful red bandana. And as those curls came cascading down, Dimitra could tell that this poor woman had not cared for herself in ages. She knew all about what it took to care for curls; maybe even more than Marianne did. She could only imagine how hard it had to have been for her... To not even be able to brush her hair? Dimitra cursed Francis again for up and dying on beloved Marianne like that. \n\n\"Oh, Mari, you sweet thing,\" She sighed and took her hands, squeezing them in hers and brushing her thumbs across her knuckles. \"Of course.\" It seemed that aside from friend, lover, and confidante, she was also prepared to add *Beautician* To her extensive list of titles. \"Don't you worry about a single thing!\" Dimitra was up and across the little cottage. \"We'll put tea on, we'll make it more than a haircut,\" She told her, reaching out to grab her hands again and pull Marianne to stand. \"This is a full blown makeover.\" She gave a few little hops on her toes, full of energy. \"How does that sound?\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Dimitra was a good friend. More than good, she was... An angel, in her own right. She'd been by Marianne's side for years in whatever capacity she'd needed her to be, and never once complained, never questioned a request. Loyal as they came, that was what Dimitra was, and Marianne had been grateful for her time and time again, but none so much as now, when she revealed the state she'd fallen into and her companion didn't so much as bat an eyelid. Marianne had always prided herself on being well-kept and presentable, every inch the lady her mama had brought her up to be, but all of that felt so far away now. \n\n\"It's a dreadful mess, isn't it?\" She asked, as her hands were squeezed tight and she was brought back to the moment, pulled away from the scoldings of a mother and the catch and tug of briars, back into the comfort of Dimitra's home. She was safe here. Things would be made well again. \"I fear it simply... Slipped my mind. I didn't notice it until it was too far gone to save alone.\" She tucked the bandana into her pocket, and rose when she was aided.\n\nA makeover?\nWell, she supposed that *Did* Sound like some fun. \n\n\"I'd like that. I'd love it, in fact.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"A mess?\" She waved her hand around, a smile on her face. \"Nonsense! Not your fault, time got away from you,\" Dimitra let go of Marianne's hands and walked around her in a slow circle, before she placed her hand on Marianne's twisted, knotted up hair. It was quite the... Tangle, but nothing she couldn't handle. \"Unfortunately, I'm thinking a lot of this... Might have to go.\" She said. \"It'll be a big change.\" \n\nBut that was the beauty of it, wasn't it? A woman cutting her hair was like a snake shedding it's skin; leaving behind the old and accepting the new. A big change, a new identity, almost. She was certain that that was what Marianne needed - if she was ready for it. More importantly... Ready to accept it herself. \n\n\"I'll be right back,\" She said, and disappeared into another room, procuring a pair of hefty metal scissors. She snipped them a few times with emphasis, beaming at the sound of metal on metal as she did it. \"I promise, you will leave here looking like the belle of the ball,\" She said, stepping closer. \"Do you trust me, Mari?\" \n\nShe hoped so. She trusted Marianne very much, and she hoped she felt the same way in return."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "\"A damned mess.\" There was a smile in Marianne's voice, though, as she made her confession - it was difficult to keep it away, in the company of her friend, for all her grief and sorrow weighed less heavy upon her shoulders when they were together. She wished she had come sooner, felt the light from Dimitra's eyes shine upon her and warm her when she was in the very depths of her mourning. Perhaps, if she had, it would have lifted her spirit sooner. But there was no use in dwelling in the past when the present held such hope. \n\nThe scissors' glint in the lamplight only made her smile grow. \n\n\"Hair holds so many memories, Mimi. And my memories at present only serve to drag me down. I'm not so sure I can afford to be dragged down much further than I've already gone. Take all you need to - more if you so choose. Short hair is all the rage in the cities, you know? I should have brought the magazines, the ladies there do look so beautiful, and *All* Of them keep their curls bobbed, cropped even.\"\n\nShe sat up a little straighter, and made no effort to hide the excitement painted in her expression. \n\n\"I trust you. With all my heart.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Dimitra knew all too well how hair held memories. It was why she only trimmed her own to keep the necessary upkeep; she liked to hold in all the memories she could. Even the bad ones. The bad ones were some of the most important, in her mind. They shaped her to be who she was today. But for others, she knew, shedding it was part of the healing. Not everyone could, or *Should*, just grin and bear it. Just as Marianne said; the memories only dragged her down. The sea of sorrows didn't need another handhold to drag her under the rippling tides; Marianne would *Not* Drown today. \n\n\"You're going to be right in fashion!\" Dimitra declared, and she took her hand in hers. She squeezed it, and then brought her hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles so gently; where one might see a motion like that as romantic, Dimitra's intention was far different. It was a promise; that she could always trust her. Always. \n\n\"Come,\" She beckoned her to sit at the kitchen table, those shiny scissors in her hands. \"Have a seat. I will work my magic and you'll be a brand new woman.\" The first thing to go was the giant knot in the back of her head. It held the most weight, and as it hit the floor, she could only imagine the amount of relief there was. \"No turning back now,\" She said, giggling. \"I could never pull off short hair, you know? I don't have the face for it. But Mari- you do. You have the perfect face for any hairstyle,\" She assured her with a beam as she came around to trim up her bangs."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Marianne had often wished, in her years since returning to Briar Ridge, that she could be a woman who cared little for being *Right in fashion*, as Dimitra put it. Alas, she had never quite been able to leave behind the ladies of Tennessee, with their hairsprayed up-dos and pretty dresses off the pages of the catalogues. Every party had merited a new outfit, a trip to the fabric store and the tailor and the jewellery counter, and so often when Ma had had the women come to socialise, Marianne's appearance had found itself the topic of conversation. They had lamented the colour of her bright hair in the same breath as complimenting its length and fullness, nit-picked at her height as they praised her for her thin waist, and all through her youth she had taken each of those comments right to heart.\nIt was only since leaving the city once and for all that she had come to care not for her looks. She no longer minded whether the folks in town thought her a good-looking woman - there were better things to be than beautiful. She could be kind, and generous, and a skilled gardener, and a baker, and a friend. All of those mattered more to her than *Pretty* Ever did. \n\nBut Dimitra's gentle compliments went right to her heart anyway. Her cheeks flushed with a warmth she was unused to lately, and she looked up at her friend as she came around to her face, making no effort to hide her smile. \"You're always so full of flattery,\" She scolded softly. \"There's no wonder you get away with all that you do.\" She was trying not to laugh, though, wanting to keep still so the scissors didn't end up in a place they shouldn't be. She really did feel lighter already; not only had the heaviness of her hair fallen to the floor, but with it had fallen some of her sorrow. \"I'm sure you could wear your hair however you wanted to and still have all the men charmed and falling at your feet. The women, too. You're a darling.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"You think I get away with it all because of flattery?\" She gasped, sounding quite scandalized, even though she was grinning. \"Because you'd be right. That's how I get myself out of most trouble.\" She chuckled to herself as she snipped away at the tangles, before moving on to blend it all in and even it all out. \"But you know, people are fond of me for lots of reasons, I think. I'd like to think I'm fun, I'm friendly. I'm beautiful...\" She snickered. \"And that last one - that gets you very far in life, doesn't it? It's almost disgusting - especially with men. But I'm lucky; Abel isn't that kind of man.\" She paused and cleared her throat as she began to trim up her hair some more. \n\n\"I think if I cut my hair off, this town would just about crucify me.\" Dimitra laughed. \"Don't you think?\" She flipped some of her hair over her shoulder as demonstration. \"The men *And* The women... Well, I like the sound of that.\" She picked up a hand mirror and fluffed Mari's hair out, giving her a little peek in the mirror. \"How do you feel about this, then?\" She asked with a beam. \"I think you look adorable. Look at how it makes your face look so dramatic and angular - I could just kiss you myself,\" She cooed, giving her a big kiss on the cheek before she pulled back and scurried towards her bedroom door. \n\n\"Let me dress you up like a little doll!\" She called as she started rifling through her wardrobe."
}
] | 359 | 4,067 |
448.291667 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "True to her word, Dimitra was going to make Carina's visit well worth it. She'd tidied up the place, made sure it looked cozy and set the fire to a nice crackle. The nights were chilly and the house was a little drafty, but that wasn't anything a fire and some warm blankets couldn't fix. \n\nBesides, the oven was going with fresh bread and the stove had something delicious and meaty going, as she waited for her guest of honor to arrive. Admittedly, she was a little nervous! She didn't usually care what people thought, but Carina was a good friend, and there was a part of her that wanted to impress her. \n\nShe took the bread out of the oven and hissed as she burnt her thumb, sucking on it and huffing before going to the cabinet and getting her finest whiskey she could offer. \n\nShe hadn't had company over in a bit— she usually had a nighttime guest around to help fall asleep. She could give them physical affection and in return, she could get a good night's sleep. Falling asleep alone was not something that came easy to her; it was damned near impossible most nights, in fact. \n\nShe felt her cheeks burn, remembering how Carina had reacted in the general store— how she'd felt so *Judged* In that moment. She hoped things went better this time."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina was early. Much, much too early. She never really left town, and thus had a weak understanding of how long foot travel took to the residences past Main Street. Willing to kill as much time as she could stand in the cold, Carina stepped delicately off the ivy-tangled path that led to Dimitra's house. Exploring the property, she was surprised to see an automobile. \n\nLiving in Briar Ridge had taught her that only the wealthy could afford to drive (of course she'd seen them all the time while living in Richmond), unless someone sponsored a car for you to support certain... Nefarious activity. It felt shameful that the presence of the car excited her, regardless of its purpose. It meant that either Dimitra was wealthy, or that she was involved in a particular dangerous vocation. \n\nHer hands were freezing– gloveless and clutching the meager offerings she'd brought to dinner: a tin of ground coffee and a box of soft caramel creams. She hadn't had time to bake anything. \n\nUnwilling to suffer the weather any longer, Carina pushed past the embarrassment of her ill-timed arrival. She knocked sharply at the door. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "The knock came earlier than expected, and she nearly tripped over herself in the process of getting to the door. She rushed there and flung it open, smiling wide and bright as she leaned there. \"You're early and you look frozen down to the bone,\" She commented, before pulling her inside the warm and cozy home. The fire was crackling, thawing Carina a little bit as Dimitra held her arm. \n\nShe was dressed differently than usual; her curls pulled up on the top of her head to keep it out of her face, a bandana around it too. Her blouse was normal, and she was wearing *Pants.* Men's pants, to be specific. Usually she was in dresses or ruffled skirts, but Dimitra made pants look good, actually. The belt cinched tight around her waist, making her look quite fashionable and smart— these had belonged to her brother, and she'd knicked them when she'd gone. \n\n\"Make yourself at home!\" She clapped her hands together. \"The food's basically done, actually...\" She smiled and went to pull the food out of the oven, setting it on the table and beaming. \"It's nice to see you, Carina, especially in *My territory.*\" \n\nShe gestured around the room and grinned wider. \"Can I get you a drink?\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"Ah,\" A simple human sound of relief escaped Carina as she stepped inside. Once the distraction of her near-encounter with frostbite (oh, the drama!) had passed, she was able to fully appreciate Dimitra's presence just past the doorway. In truth, the other woman made Carina's breath hitch, with her hair pulled from her features and her waist so neat and defined. Having stared too long, Carina looked away at last, flustered and thankful that the flush of the cold at her cheeks hid the flush from her admiration. \n\nShe shrugged out of her coat, a cerulean blue wool peacoat, and peeled off her gloves: thin, tan colored leather, soft as the skin behind your ears. Beneath her outerwear was a mustard yellow, shin-length a-line wool dress with ¾ sleeves and a high neckline. An oval-shaped gold locket hung from a long chain around her neck, the pendant resting just below her breast. Her earrings were simple golden drops, smaller than a pinky fingernail. These two items of jewelry were among the dozen or so accessories she'd managed to take with her from her home in Richmond. \n\nShe wore a touch of lipstick, just a tad deeper than her lips' natural mauve, and a swipe of blush across her cheeks. Her hair was still curled from that day in the shop. \n_ _\n\nDraping her coat and gloves on the back of a chair in the sitting room, she cautiously continued through the rest of the house, her destination the kitchen. Dimitra's home was as expected (not that she'd wasted any time imagining it, no ma'am!): cluttered in a cozy kind of way, strewn with evidence of a life lived wild and free. Carina regarded the decor warily, having been unsettlingly disarmed by the environment too quickly and easily for her comfort. She preferred to be on-edge. It helped her to retain her faculties. \n\n*It's nice to see you,* Dimitra told her, and Carina supposed this was the part where she admitted it was nice to see Dimitra, too. It was more than nice to see her. It was exciting, and nerve wracking, and refreshing, and– well. Just really, *Really* Nice. \n\n\"Dinner smells great.\" She said instead, keeping her face turned to the windows, fearing that her blush was still creeping. While she wanted nothing more than to train her eyes on Dimitra as she tended the stove, she wanted nothing less than to be found out for her staring. The nerve she'd worked up to flirt in the shop had receded. On her own territory, it seemed she was much more confident than here on Dimitra's. She worried about the power that this placed in her company's hands. \n\n\"A drink, yes. I'll have what you're having.\" She didn't know what else to ask for. Wholly unused to having company or *Being* Company, she had no clue what would be available in the kitchen of another. \n\n\"Your home is lovely,\" She managed, swallowing hard after the compliment as though bile had risen with the words. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She appreciated Carina; first of all, she was gorgeous. She was nice to look at, especially when she wrinkled her brow in distaste and huffed at her. Dimitra couldn't help but find it all too amusing to get her riled up, and she had a knack for trying to push people to the edge. \n\nShe admired her a moment as she leaned on the counter, the flickering of candles keeping the room well lit. Dimitra grasped for her nicest liquor; a wine she'd actually gotten as a gift from a dock worker weeks back in the city. It was *French*, and she was sure someone as upper crust as Carina would enjoy something like that. \n\nShe popped the cork and smiled as she poured them two glasses, filling Carina's up a bit more than her own and setting the bottle aside. \"I'm still not used to a house with a foundation,\" She admitted. \"I preferred life traveling in caravans, sleeping under the stars half the nights. But Briar Ridge is nice, too.\" She cracked a grin. \"Especially since I've got all these friends. It was about time you came around! It's only taken me... What, a few years to get you here?\" She teased. \n\nDimitra set her glass down and turned to grab dishes of food and set them on the table. Fresh baked bread, a hearty and fragrant stew of meat and potatoes, and a decadent fruit dessert; clearly, Dimitra had been working quite hard all day to impress her dinner guest. \n\n\"You look gorgeous, by the way,\" She said, winking at her over her glass as she drank from it. \"Showing me up in my own home? For shame, Carina.\" A shameless flirt, she was."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Seizing the opportunity of Dimitra's distraction with the wine cork, Carina's hungry eyes took in all they could while the other woman's gaze was occupied. She admired the curls that tried to escape the scarf that held them, and the delicate slope of Dimitra's cheeks into her slightly smiling mouth. Always slightly smiling. Carina would soon be smiling, too, if she didn't compose herself– but everything was right. Everything was warm and she was *Happy* To be in the home of another. Why shouldn't she smile? She didn't have an answer, and she surely wouldn't just *Trust* An impulse without reason. \n\nThe popping of the cork led her eyes away, down to the bottle. She tried to read what she could on the label, so maybe she could pretend to know something about it, but the bottle was unmarked. Taking her glass tentatively, she raised it to her nose to sniff. Unused to alcohol, she scrunched her face, and that reluctant smile bloomed shyly as surprise and embarrassment tickled her. She sipped the drink anyway, and maintained her distorted expression. It warmed her belly, which she liked, and it was slightly sour, which she also liked. Tolerable. She took another sip to the backdrop of Dimitra's travel stories. \n\nWhat must it be like to have such freedom? To be unafraid of change? Maybe Carina would have the nerve to ask after another glass of wine. \n\n\"I don't go out much,\" She admitted, looking down into her cup, \"It's nice though.\" \n_ _\n\nA well-adjusted woman would have offered a hand with setting the table, but Carina watched like an heiress being served. Her eyebrows arched in awe of the full spread, her stomach growling even though she'd eaten a more-than-adequate lunch. Miss Templeton's metabolism was almost as aggressive as her resting expression. \n\nThe sudden compliment pulled her from near-salivation. She blinked over to Dimitra. \n\"Thank you,\" She smiled, genuine but quick, \"I needed to claim some kind of higher ground. I didn't know what awaited me here.\" She paused, attempting to muster some of her usual confidence, \"The competition is steep. I don't quite know that I've bested you.\" She made sure to make solid eye contact with Dimitra before taking a seat at the table, again flaunting propriety as she did so without waiting for an invitation from her hostess. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"You know, I think we must balance each other out, then,\" She commented with amusement. \"A lot of people accuse me of going out too much, actually! Can you believe it? Going out *Too* Much shouldn't even be considered a thing. There's so much world to explore, and I'd rather be out seeking adventures than stuffed up inside, personally. Then again...\" She looked around her house with a sense of pride. \n\n\"There is something kind of nice about laying down roots. At least for a little while.\" She smiled to herself and shrugged a shoulder, eyes flickering from the table to her guest once more. Carina was dressed quite lovely tonight, and she scrunched up her nose at the compliment she received in return. \n\nThey were alone, with no one else to hear them. Dimitra's house was set back from a lot of the others, and she found she preferred her privacy when she *Was* Occupying her home; especially if she was bringing someone back for drinks. \"I didn't know you were such a flirt, Carina!\" She said in amusement and fanned herself as she took another sip of wine from the glass. \"You're going to make me blush - it's not easy to do that, you know?\" Dimitra beamed and had a seat by her, crossing one leg over the other as she sat askew on her chair. She could never sit normally, unfortunately, it was a bad habit of hers. She would sit anywhere but a chair, most times - preferring to perch on countertops and tables and on the arms of chairs over a proper seat. \n\n\"Help yourself, obviously, there's plenty to go around.\" She grabbed the bread and cut a slice, ripping it in half and biting into it. She wasn't proper in the slightest in her own home; dumping potatoes onto her plate with a flourish and laughing. \"I burnt myself taking the bread out of the oven, so you better enjoy it. My blood, sweat, and tears are in this meal!\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Just as Carina was about to offer a retort about how, *Yes*, going out too much could be a dark mark on one's moral record, Dimitra offered her own (gentle) counterpoint. Carina couldn't understand this comfort in having feet in two worlds, where one could shift their weight and redefine boundaries and alignments with ease. She'd been carved from stone as a child: chiseled with propriety in mind from something concrete and immovable. There were rules and expectations and procedures. Changing one's mind was not so simple as shrugging on a new coat. \n\nOr was it? Dimitra was sure making a good case. \n\n\"I guess I can be, in the right company.\" She smiled again, drinking her wine too quickly, \"What can I say? You set a good example for bad behavior.\" She was having fun. She liked matching wits with Dimitra. Quick words were something she excelled at, and flirting was just a permutation of a snarky response. \n\nCarina was already heaping food into her bowl by the time Dimitra invited her to do so. While her hunger was brutish, her table manner was slightly less so. She applied a napkin to her lap, and daintily picked up her knife and fork. Even as she ate feverishly, she was careful not to smudge her lipstick. \n\n\"I can really taste the tears. They make for excellent seasoning,\" She said dryly between bites. The food really was exquisite. Carina couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten something that wasn't cooked by herself or Mrs. Bigby. \n\n\"Really, Dimitra, this is excellent.\" She blotted her mouth on her napkin, her great appreciation for food inspiring a sweet sincerity in her voice, \"Where did you learn to cook like this?\" \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "A sense of pride rose in Dimitra; drawing her shoulders back and sitting up straighter, she almost looked like a proper young woman sitting there, rather than foul-mouthed bootlegger like she actually was. \n\nSo not only was Carina flirting with her, matching wits and subtle compliments, but she liked her cooking too. Dimitra could see that the woman was enjoying herself, if the eager way she ate said anything. Dimitra grasped the neck of the wine bottle and topped them both off with wine, smiling as she sipped from it. \n\n\"My mother. Amongst other women who we travelled with. It took my mother ages to teach me how to cook, because I wanted to run off to the beach or the woods or the market at the drop of a hat. She had been a rambunctious little girl; scuffing up her body by throwing herself around with wild abandon. \n\n\"You should come over more, I could cook for you more often,\" Dimitra pointed out to Carina. \"Like I said before, I do get a fully lonely out here...\" \n\nShe grinned to herself and ate another hunk of bread as she gazed across the table at her companion. \"Let me know if you'll want dessert. I can also make coffee!\" She clapped her hands together and grinned in delight. \n\n\"This is so fun. We really ought to do it more, you know?\" She raised an eyebrow at her. Dimitra ached for connection like a mermaid yearns for the sea. \"You don't have to answer now! Just.. Think about it?\" She suggested before winking at her and flashing her a wide grin."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "There was naught to do while Dimitra spoke, other than drink wine and eat. Perhaps too enthusiastic with the wine, Carina's glass was nearly half empty again by the time her hostess offered dessert. The intense, dry tartness of the alcohol had grown on her, a fuzz of contentment blooming through her chest like a strange fungus with each swallow. Her expression went a bit vacant and dreamy as she began to wonder why she didn't drink more often. \n\n\"I will absolutely want dessert, make no mistake. I have to do some good work on my dinner, first.\" Carina was serious about eating, though she did smile a touch, however involuntary. \n\n\"I like your idea of fun,\" She teased, tearing herself another slice of bread and dredging it directly in the juices of the cooking pot on the table, \"You can cook food and watch me eat it any time you'd like. I'd say that aligns pretty well with *My* Idea of fun.\" Carina looked up in time to catch Dimitra's wink and smile, and instead of pulling the shutters over her expression, she snorted with a puff of girlish laughter. \n\nComposing herself, she focused back on her meal, unable to clear a smile entirely from her lips. It helped to ground her in her typical sullen mood to remind herself that Dimitra was wont to soothe her own loneliness with company outside of Carina's. She would have to decide if this was something that mattered to her: if she could reap the full benefits of Dimitra's attention while knowing it was spent on others. \n_ _\n\nThat decision could wait. She had a full belly and a wine-soaked mind, with a beautiful woman across the table offering her sweets. Even Carina could willingly label herself a fool not to appreciate her present circumstances. \n\n\"I'm just wondering what you get out of this deal.\" She said finally, \"I suppose I could look the other way when you reach for the licorice jar. At least the next time, or so.\" She shoveled another forkful of potatoes into her mouth, and then pointed with her knife to the spot on the counter where she'd left the gifts she'd brought. \n\n\"I don't know if you like caramel creams. I've never caught you stealing them, but I suppose that doesn't mean it hasn't happened. There's some coffee there, too.\" \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "With no nefarious intent, Dimitra was filling Carina's glass amply as she drank - with each sip, it was as if she could see the muscles in her shoulders unwinding, becoming looser and far more relaxed. There was a sort of hazy rosiness on her cheeks, too, that thrilled Dimitra to no end. \n\nShe'd never heard Carina *Laugh* Before and the sound was absolutely brilliant. Dimitra felt a warmth bloom in her chest as she grinned and leaned an elbow on the table, watching her intently with glittering eyes. It was so brief, a *Blink and you miss it* Moment, but she could see the way Carina smiled, looking so open and honest for once, before the shades were pulled up tight once more to compose herself. She mourned the loss and bit the inside of her cheek, finding solace in the way Carina's mouth turned up at once corner. \n\nDimitra had finished her food long ago, plate pushed aside, limbs folded on the tabletop as she'd just openly watched her with a smile. She couldn't help herself; the woman had a sharp beauty in her own right and she didn't mind getting caught staring. \"What do I get out of this?\" She laughed and tossed her head back. \"No, no, I don't want you to look the other way,\" She said quickly. \"Half the fun of nicking the sweets is in the thought of you catching me. I thought you'd figured that out by now,\" Dimitra smiled cheekily. \n\nBut her attention was drawn to the sweets that Carina mentioned and she whipped around, flitting to them and grabbing for them, ripping open the wax paper to devour one immediately. She hummed and sucked the sugar from her fingertips with delight. \"Thank you,\" She said, a caramel cream pocketed in her cheek as she brought a few more to the table to unwrap and eat. \"I love caramel creams.\" She suckled on them to savor it, running her tongue over it methodically. \"Almost as much as I love your company.\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "When the buttons at the back of Carina's dress were finally straining against her full belly, she relinquished her fork, gruffly swiping a napkin across her mouth. Sometimes it seemed as though Carina Templeton was truly a tired 50 year old coal miner, father of 3, wearing the neat frock of a young woman. This was one of those times. She stifled a belch, but just barely. \n\nWatching her empty plate as Dimitra explained the ruse behind her cleptomania, that sneaky smile of hers came again, though this time she was less willing to fight the wine in her system to keep a straight face. \n\n\"I guess maybe I'd had my suspicions.\" She admitted, stealing a glance across the table to Dimitra's shining eyes. She kept watching as the other woman descended on the box of caramels like a singular swarm of locusts, sipping her wine and enjoying the sight of her gift being enjoyed, in turn. \n\nTo Carina's abject horror, Dimitra's next statement brought a *Vile* Blush to her cheeks. This, she could not control. This, she could not hide. She felt the sudden urge to leap from the table and bury herself face-first into the slush and mud outside the door. \n\nNow, Carina had always known she didn't fancy men, and that was putting it politely. She found the opposite sex to be repugnant– disgusting. Men were brutish, insensitive and indelicate. They were rough and stubbled and wrong. Carina had shockingly made peace with the fact that her obsession with propriety dead ended harshly at the boundary of sexual preference. Of course, this didn't mean she flaunted her taboo attraction, but she had become confident in her ability to sense similar company, and whenever she did find it, her frayed ends tended to reveal themselves. Carina allowed herself such little fun in this life, but flirting was one treat in which she gave herself permission to indulge. \n_ _\n\nCall it blowing off steam; call it releasing a pressure valve. Call it an Achilles Heel if you must, but the truth was that a pretty lady could always find the weak points in Carina's welds. \n\n\"I'm honored. Since you *Do* Seem to like those candies quite a bit.\" Her eyebrows were raised, and her scandalized blush was already fading, though there was a danger of it returning as her gaze caught on Dimitra's mouth, busy with a caramel. \n\n\"Well,\" She began, jumpy, looking down at her glass, \"I love *Your* Company almost as much as I love this wine.\" In a deeply uncharacteristic break from her stoicism, Carina could barely finish the statement for the laughter that erupted. When she tried to set her face straight, only her brows furrowed, leaving her grin intact in a silly half-frown. \n\"You've got to drink more. I'm going to embarrass myself if you keep taking such polite little tastes.\" She insisted bitterly, palming the wine bottle and filling Dimitra's cup. She slouched back in the chair when she was done, her legs wide, dress tented over her spread knees, one elbow propped on her thigh, the other hand around her own glass. \n\"Let's see, then. Have a proper sip.\" Her eyes narrowed, lips mildly tilted in good humor. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She was endlessly fascinated by Carina; the way her eyebrows knit and relaxed, mouth twisting into complicated shapes, like she was fighting her own face. She supposed that wasn't exactly far out of reach for Carina— the woman could be seen fighting a level of amusement whenever Dimitra came around to wreak havoc on the shop. \n\nShe wondered if Carina was lonely. Especially now, with that house all empty... It made Dimitra's chest ache at the thought. She knew a thing or two about loneliness and what that could do to a person— she was sure if she brought it up to Carina, however, the woman would only huff and laugh and say she wasn't lonely; she couldn't *Possibly* Be lonely. She liked to be alone. \n\nShe rolled the caramel cream around in her mouth, lips pouted a bit as she rolled it over her tongue and hummed in delight at the sticky sweet candy that warmed her to the core. \"So you finally admit you enjoy having me around?\" She mused and knocked her knee against hers, tilting her head back and laughing as Carina demanded she drink more. \n\n\"Trying to get me drunk, hm?\" Dimitra fluttered her lashes and picked up the glass, bringing it to her lips and tipping it back. With a few hearty gulps, she sucked down the wine like it was water, a stray red droplet slipping around the corner of her mouth and traveling down her cheek, her throat, down... \n\n\"There,\" She set her empty glass down on the table with a triumphant grin and didn't bother with the dribble of alcohol down her face. \"Is that sufficient for you? A proper sip?\" Dimitra crossed one leg over the other and crossed her arms over her chest as she snickered."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "If the two women could share internal monologues, Carina would find that Dimitra had her mostly figured out, much to her chagrin. She fought herself constantly. She was lonelier than a single shoe, and she would spit like a cobra to be called out on it. Luckily for Carina, she could live in ignorant bliss of Dimitra's extremely discerning emotional intelligence. \n\n\"You're alright, I suppose.\" She relented, fighting another smile, but quickly looking up in feigned insult as Dimitra made her accusation. \n\"Trying and failing!\" She said, letting the smile win. Her expression smoothed to awe as she beheld the sight across the table. Unabashed, she watched, and watched, and watched that drop of wine on its course as it spilled, slipped, rolled down Dimitra's throat. She could have openly pouted as it disappeared past the open collar of the woman's blouse. Carina was still staring at the point it had vanished when Dimitra set down her glass. \n\nWithout tilting her face back up, just Carina's eyes moved to meet those of her company. \n\"Hmm,\" She lilted, \"Seems you let a bit escape,\" She traced the path of the drop from the corner of her own mouth, pressing her lips together as her thin fingers stopped at the neck of her dress. \n\nThough the wine warmed her and softened her faculties like pooling wax at the base of a candle wick, Carina did not reach forward with her napkin, as a drunker version of herself may do. She did not reach forward with her thumb and liberate the drop of spilled wine from Dimitra's skin. She also did not hold back the next words on the tip of her tongue:\n_ _\n\n\"And what a lucky bit.\" \n\nSegments of velvety silence cushioned the suggestion, backgrounded only by the cracks of the fire. Carina straightened her mouth, but the look in her eyes was evidence of sinful thoughts. She placed her palms on the table top. \n\n\"I'll reset the table for dessert.\" She announced, the adrenaline of her boldness beginning to awaken feelings that she dared not sit with. She needed to move, regardless of how much she hated washing dishes. She collected their plates and silverware and brought them to the basin, all the while running self-directed curses through her mind. *Whatareyoudoing, whatareyoudoing, whatareyoudoing?!*\n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She wasn't blind; Dimitra had had enough eyes on her to know when someone was *Looking* At her in the way Carina was. She'd had an inkling, more than an inkling, actually, about Carina's *Proclivities* But this was all the confirmation she needed to hear. She couldn't help but laugh at her words, eyes following her as she scrambled up from her seat so desperately, as if fleeing from her own words. \n\n\"Carina,\" She hummed in delight and stood up. \"I didn't take you for boldness but I'll say— how *Bold*,\" Dimitra raised her eyebrows and wandered from the table to the counter slowly, voice low and soft like she was trying to coax a wild animal to calmness. If she moved too fast, spoke too loudly, she was liable to frighten Carina straight out of her house. \n\nDimitra smiled warmly, leaning there, keeping a close but comfortable distance between them so as to not crowd her flighty friend. \"I'd rather dance,\" She told her, grasping at her sleeve gently. \"I'll bet you've got two left feet,\" Dimitra teased her. \"Come on, let me put something on.\" A self-cranking phonograph, one of her prized possessions; a gift from her family before she'd left New York. It was expensive but it was beautiful— refurbished and a little ugly, but still beautiful. \"Come on, come on!\" She begged. \"Don't worry about the dishes, you're my *Guest*!\" She implored. \"Dance with me, Carina,\" Dimitra said softly. \"Please?\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"*Bold,*\" She muttered, bitter, \"The wine has a voice of its own.\" \nIt wasn't the truth, and she regretted saying it as soon as it was out. \n\"You're a beautiful woman, Dimitra.\" Carina self-corrected, though the statement could hardly be classified as flirting, and was hardly warmer than her wine excuse. It was simply a fact. She could have said, *We're in a house,* Or, *It's winter time* In the same tone. Her eyes darted to Dimitra as she leaned on the counter beside her: a mouse suspicious of the cat. \n\n\"*Dance!*\" Carina whined, the suggestion completely foiling her attempt at stoicism. She'd thought she was about to sit down to dessert! And now she had to *Perform* For a treat.\n\n\"The pie will be cold by the time we dance.\" She complained, embarrassingly serious but infinitely less self-conscious of this emotional display than her \"Boldness\" At the table. She did love music, though, and so seldomly got to hear a record. And Dimitra's voice was so sweet in the way she asked. \n\n\"My feet are as they should be,\" Carina defended herself, turning from the basin and smoothing her skirt. \n\"I'll pick the record.\" She clarified, scanning the room for the phonograph. It *Was* Beautiful. She went to it, running her fingers along the smooth wooden sides, pausing on the crank. Her mother would call it sad, her father would call it garbage, but Carina had gained a healthy perspective on materiality since leaving home. This outdated hand me down, which once would have met a scoff from her, was in fact the most precious item she'd had the pleasure to behold in some time. Its rarity defined its value. The love it had known, and continued to know, gave it meaning. \n_ _\n\nShe picked a record at random, the content mattering less than the illusion of her control, sliding it from its sleeve and threading it over the pin. A few cranks of the handle and a setting of the needle brought *Music* To life. Sweet. Glorious. Nourishing. She allowed a few eyes-closed moments to herself before slowly turning to Dimitra. \n\n\"Alright, then,\" She resigned, holding out her hand. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She was practically bouncing with delight, her persuasion of Carina was a sweet victory to her. She didn't mind handing over a level of control; she supposed that her companion always needed a level of it, didn't she? But she sort of liked that; that Carina wasn't afraid to tell her to *Stop* Or *Go* Or anything like that, because Dimitra needed that direction at times. \n\nThe music was upbeat, just like Dimitra herself. A horn, a drum, a smooth voice... Dimitra clapped her hands together and reached for Carina's outstretched one, pulling her in closer. \"One dance, then you can have a bite of whatever you'd like,\" She said, the words slipping past her lips so easily, like she hadn't said the most lascivious thing of the century. \n\nHer eyes glittered as her hands fell to Carina's waist, holding it firmly as she danced her across the floor. Dimitra was capable of dancing the male or female part, which was incredibly fitting to her versatile nature. She was delicate like a woman but tough as nails like men were perceived to be— she could handle herself in the kitchen and on the streets, and she supposed she was much like a shapeshifter at times. \n\n\"Smile,\" She urged her, tossing her head back. \"How can you look so grumpy when you're dancing, hm?\" Her fingertips pressed a little more insistently into the woman's sides. \"You can't, I won't allow it.\" She shook her head. \"Though I'll say this—\" Dimitra took a moment of thought. \"You look just as beautiful with a furrowed brow as you do with a smile, so, I suppose you're lucky in that way, don't you think?\" She asked cheekily."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"Oh, so much for boldness– you're being lewd.\" She answered as they softly collided, hands in hands, hands at waists. Carina reached for Dimitra's shoulder instinctively, as she was taught to dance a lady's role. She was nearly done struggling with her composure, though it wasn't a conscious decision to flee the fight– the wine had nearly won her over, so much so that she couldn't pull down a grimace over her smile at Dimitra's promise. *A bite of anything.* This night was perhaps the most fun Carina had ever had, but it would not occur to her until much later in the night as her toes went numb in her unwarmed bed, alone. \n\n\"It's a special talent of mi– hah!\" She bubbled with laughter mid-retort as Dimitra hit a tender spot at her waist. No! *NO!* Carina Templeton is *Not* Fucking ticklish, so stop thinking whatever you're thinking!\n\"Don't *Do* That, Dimitra,\" She recovered enough to scold, though her company had elicited the smile she'd wanted. \n\n\"I would argue I am *More* Beautiful with a furrowed brow,\" She argued, looking sharply into Dimitra's eyes, \"It's stronger than a smile. There is beauty in strength.\" Their feet laced across the rug to the music, knotting invisible patterns wherever they moved. \n\n\"I'd be smiling if I were eating pie,\" Carina finally sighed, though her hold on Dimitra remained solid. She supposed the closeness was nice, and dessert could wait a few minutes more. Dimitra was a good dancer, and besides the tickling– er... *Squeezing* Incident, a hand at her waist felt unspeakably lovely. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"Lewd?\" Dimitra grinned and tilted her head. \"I don't know, I don't think I'm being very lewd at all,\" She seemed so amused, eyes twinkling and grinning as she spun with little care in the world. \n\nWhen she heard that bright little half laugh past those lips, her eyes brightened and she pressed insistently closer, fingers stilling when Carina demanded she cease. \"I've never heard you make that sound before,\" She said, fingers pressing into her sides just slightly before. Oh, this evening had already been far better than she could've imagined it to be. \n\n\"You're absolutely right, you know, a furrowed brow is far more beautiful,\" She watched her a moment with interest in her eyes, spinning her and dancing her across the floor. As the song was slowly drawing to an end, she mourned the music and the excuse to touch her waist. She could feel the moment slipping through her fingers, and she chuckled weakly as the needle on the player skipped a moment. \"I guess that's our cue, isn't it?\" She asked her, fingers loosening their grip before her hands reluctantly detached from her sides. \n\n\"Now, I've kept you from the pie long enough,\" She said, looking to the kitchen door. \"I'll cut you a big slice, don't you worry,\" She winked at her and slipped away, heading to grab the knife and cut the pie for her guest. She could feel a fluttering in her stomach and a tightness in her chest she wasn't always accustomed to, and she exhaled slowly to calm her rapid heartbeat. \n\n\"Coffee?\" She asked over her shoulder."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"Consider yourself one of a lucky few. I only make that *Noise* When absolutely necessary,\" Self-deprecation (however mild) was an absolute rarity coming from Carina, but her tongue was loosened. She could feel herself being enjoyed, which was also rare, but as intoxicating as the wine. This time, at the squeeze, she wiggled her way around the other woman's grip as not to embarrass herself so deeply again. \nFor a few minutes as they danced, Carina was weightless. Untethered. There had been no tragedy, there had been no abandonment. There had been no uncaring sisters or greedy uncles. There had been no house in Richmond, no paintings to be stolen, no pearls to be left behind. All there was, was a small town and the warm souls that called it home. For a few minutes, it was as though Carina's soul had been simmering here all along, and Dimitra's had been feeding kindling to their collective fire. \n\nBut the music ended. It always would. There was anger, naturally, when the record gave up. Carina flashed the phonograph a pout, because even inanimate objects must answer to her upset before she ever would. \n\n\"You have,\" Carina agreed, \"Though I suppose that wasn't so bad, after all.\" She hummed, \"Sweet, in its own way.\" The words were almost lost to the small sounds of the room, quiet as they were. \n_ _\n\n\"Coffee.\" She nodded. It would have to be coffee, if the wine was gone. Investigating her glass at the table, she drained the last drop from it before picking up the coffee she'd brought Dimitra as a gift. She'd pre-ground it at the shop as a way to busy her hands: nervous before dinner. As Dimitra served them pie, Carina located the kettle and set it on the stove, standing back and crossing her arms as it heated, as though admiring the work she'd done to transport it. \n\nDomesticity was a novel concept to her, especially since coming to Briar Ridge. She'd never seen her mother or sisters perform household tasks. Those were taken care of by the housekeepers. Sometimes Mrs. Templeton would push the tea trolley down to the parlor for her guests, but its contents were always prepared by other hands. In Briar Ridge, Carina had taken years to understand the extent of tasks that fell on the average person without the assistance of a servant. She had been fairly helpless for much of that time, and still was at many things, but she'd come a long way. \n\nHer face angled towards the kettle, she let her gaze rove over to Dimitra. There was an alien emotion overtaking her, and she didn't know how to describe it. It was similar to when Mrs. Bigby let her leave the register early on a holiday, or when the old woman gave her a gift for her birthday. *Gratitude,* Was the word she was looking for. She regarded the feeling with suspicion, not wanting to owe anything to Dimitra for the kindness she'd been shown, but the suspicion didn't last. It was clear, even to Carina, that Dimitra *Wanted* Carina here. She wanted to feed her, to spin her, to make her laugh. As much as this confused her, she was... Grateful. \n\n\"Thank you.\" She said, stiffly, hoping Dimitra wouldn't question the words. With luck, she would accept them in exchange for a slice of pie and nothing more. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"I consider myself incredibly lucky, then,\" Dimitra said, and her eyes crinkled a bit in delight as she openly and so clearly enjoyed Carina's company, it was hard to deny this was another moment of Dimitra's *Flirting* At work. She did, in reality, feel incredibly lucky to be privy to Carina's gentler side; to see her face soften, to see her open up a little at a time. She could visually see Carina's walls come down, if only for a moment, before they went right back up as that song ended. She mourned that feeling; holding Carina close to her and feeling the warmth of her waist fit so snugly against her palm. \n\nThe smile on her face was warm and private as she was cutting the pie slice, looking over her shoulder as Carina set to task on making that coffee for them. To see her working so diligently at her stove, heart skipping just slightly at the idea of domesticity *Together* Was a little more than she could bare to think of. Dimitra loved the idea of marriage and togetherness and all, but she could hardly imagine Carina wanting to do that kind of thing. Besides, Dimitra wasn't so simple as to know what she wanted right then and there - there was the case of Abel Hughes to contend with, after all... Was she terrible? She couldn't help but wonder if she was terrible, not being able to decide. \n\nCarina's *Thank you* Caught her off guard but she paused and smiled to herself, taking the plates and forks with the pie on it and setting it on the table. She approached her skittish friend and put a hand gently on her lower back, before she was dipping forward briefly to press just the barest peck to her cheek in a sign of affection. \"You're welcome!\" Dimitra chirped happily and cheekily snickered before she was taking a seat. \"That coffee smells *Divine*, Carina, you know exactly what I've been needing.\" Her eyes glittered as she watched her at the stove."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Once Carina saw Dimitra turn and step towards her, she cast down her stare to the kettle that was beginning to steam. She couldn't quite figure out the rhyme or reason to times she wanted to be caught looking, and the times that she didn't. This time, she didn't, but she couldn't help but think Dimitra had likely felt eyes on her all the same. \n\nAt the other woman's touch, Carina stiffened. At the sweet little kiss, she froze completely, incapacitated for a moment or so while Dimitra took a seat at the table. The affection served to sober her, just enough to panic. *What am I doing here?* \n\nShe shakily made her way through the rest of the steps involved in making coffee. Filter, grounds, boiling water. She didn't know where or when she'd found Dimitra's small coffee pot, but suddenly she blinked and she was carrying it to the table. She blinked again and she was drizzling the hot water over the grounds. They bloomed, fragrant and thirsty. The scent was lovely, but it sobered her further. \n\nDreamlike, Carina sat, serving coffee to the both of them before glancing down at her pie. She had wanted this so badly, just minutes ago, but now her sweet tooth ached: rotten and raw. There was a twisting in her gut. Was there such a thing as *Too* Much good attention? She hadn't thought so, but here she found herself up against that threshold. \n_ _\n\nCarina missed the drafty, empty Baker house. She missed silence. She missed the clear, resonant peal of her own thoughts, when they weren't muddled with wine. \n\nBut Dimitra– she hadn't done anything *Wrong.* Carina couldn't just leave now. She couldn't bear seeing that look on Dimitra's face again– the one that she'd brought about in the store earlier that day. By the same token, she couldn't sacrifice her own comfort enough to prevent it. \n\nIt wasn't often that Carina felt overwhelmed in this way– that is, in such a manner that a hot flash of anger or defensiveness couldn't dispel the crowd of feelings that threatened to swallow her. This sensation was somewhere between grief and physically drowning, and she supposed it had been brought on by Dimitra's affection. How fucking embarrassing. \n\nThe kiss had been nice. The acknowledgment of gratitude had been... Nice. But it was all too fast. For a woman who had spent the latter years of her girlhood into her late 20s in the sole company of an elderly woman, the onslaught of intimate attention from someone other than Mrs. Bigby was proving to simply be *Too much.* Carina did not know how to process it, or where to situate it within her thoughts. Dimitra disrupted her typical patterns. Somewhere within herself, Carina knew that it was a disruption she wanted to accommodate, but that could not happen in a night. \n\n\"I'm feeling unwell,\" She said suddenly, shamefully. She didn't want to admit defeat, but her white flag was waving: surely Dimitra could see it on her face. Carina stood from the table. \n\"I'm sorry–\" She stammered, \"I think I have to go.\" She could barely bring herself to meet the other woman's eyes. For all the kindness and warmth she'd shown, this was how Carina received it? How she repaid it? She really was beginning to feel sick, due in no small part to the wine, but owed mostly to her state of mind. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "A mistake had been made. A broad miscalculation on her part, Dimitra realized her mistake almost as soon as she'd made it. The stiffening of Carina's shoulders, the way she looked strung taut, like the string of a bow. It had been too much, *Too fast*, and she'd scared off the feral barn cat that was Carina Templeton. \n\nThere was a part of her that wanted to try and salvage the night. How pitiful it would be to beg, to clasp her hands together and ask her to stay— Carina would never respect her after that, of course. She could try to explain herself; Dimitra was affectionate, she was tactile, she did that to *All* Her friends. It wouldn't be a lie by any stretch; she hugged, kissed, cuddled and fawned over her closest friends with little thought. Lord knows, she'd kissed the flushed cheeks of Marianne Wilburn a dozen times now in their friendship. \n\nBut she wasn't sure saying any of that would do much of anything. Carina was standing, she wasn't even *Looking at her*, and she felt a sense of sadness sweep over her. \n\nWould things ever be settled? Would Carina flee from her each time, afraid of her friendship, of something... *More* Than that? She felt her stomach churn and she tried to shove it down, tried not to look like a child having been scolded. \n\n\"Was probably all that wine,\" She said, her voice far softer than she'd wanted it to be. \"Please, take some pie home with you,\" She insisted and stood now, too, so quickly that her chair clattered to the floor. \n\n\"Whoops!\" She tried to laugh it off, but it came off far more manic than intended. \"Clumsy me,\" She picked the chair up and cleared her throat. \"Let me walk you to the door and... I'd love to have you over for dinner again, sometime. Please.\" \n\nThat silent plea, for Carina to note hate her, avoid her... To just pretend it had never happened, if that would make her happy."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina would never win any awards for her capacity to empathize, but still, the tension in the room bound her nearly to the point of suffocation. She didn't know what was happening. She didn't know how to explain herself, or moreover, why she felt the need to explain herself. Justifying her actions to others was a completely alien urge, but Dimitra had somehow inspired it in her. This realization prompted Carina to stare at her company with a blank, yet mildly bewildered expression as the chair clattered down and fumbling ensued. \n\n\"Okay, yes.\" She timidly agreed to the pie and the escort, still debating on the invitation. Turning her back to pull on her coat, hat, and gloves, she drew in a few breaths, shaky and too-urgent. They still managed to calm her. At the door, a covered dish of pie was placed into her gloved hands. She finally met Dimitra's gaze, and volunteered one last smile for the night. \n\n\"No,\" She told her, shaking her head, \"You'll come to my house next time. Friday.\" There was no question. There was no option, but there *Was* A shine in her eyes. For her final trick, she wrenched control of their friendship... Relationship... Whatever it was... Back close to her chest. She wouldn't let it go so easily again. \n\nThis felt good. This felt *Right,* Or at least better than things had felt five minutes ago. For a moment she thought maybe she didn't have to leave at all, but no. She did. Her mind was in knots, and she needed to untie it. \n\n\"Thank you, again. For dinner.\" *For everything.* \"I'll see you soon, Dimitra. Goodnight.\" \n\nHer steps were careful down the path from the cottage. She flirted with the treeline on her walk back to her quiet, empty house. When she finally settled into her quiet, empty bed, she swore she could feel Dimitra's hands around her waist as sleep claimed her. \n_ _"
}
] | 423 | 10,759 |
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{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade had been through a lot - from pain and heartbreak to denial and all the stages of grief that one can experience. She was currently settled on anger, and rightfully so. Arthur had put her through so much, and then left her high and dry as if she didn't matter. She had given him the best version of herself, and he had thrown it all away. But Jade had had enough of crying and begging for him to come back. She had friends in Briar Ridge that she could rely on, and she knew just who to turn to - Dimitra Florakis.\n\nJade had always enjoyed the energy that Dimitra brought with her, and the way she could give Arthur a run for his money. She was the perfect partner in crime, and Jade knew that she needed that kind of energy in her life right now. She was done being good, done with feeling left in the dust. If Dimitra wanted to take over the old courier shop, Jade would be there to help. And if someone in Briar Ridge wanted to burn it down, Jade would be more than happy to partake in that too.\n\nAs the sun began to set, Jade left her cottage and told Akira, her neighbor and new companion, that if she wasn't back by dusk, she was probably at Dimitra's and probably drunk. Jade planned on being tipsy, maybe not too drunk, but she knew that Dimitra had a way of making her laugh and bringing out the best in her. As she arrived at Dimitra's porch, she felt the negative feelings slowly stripping away. She knocked, waiting for the untamed curls and sphynx-like walk of her friend to appear."
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Of course she'd heard of Arthur Maldorano's swift exit from Briar Ridge. On the one hand, that did well for her. On the *Other* Hand... She knew that slippery son of a bitch had left poor Jade Grant in his dust with not so much as a note or a kiss goodbye. She also knew that Jade was a sensitive soul; she'd really loved that slimy bastard for some ungodly reason. \n\nSo when the woman in question showed up to get tipsy and gossip, she wasn't about to say no. The front door opened and she leaned there; she seemed completely fine for someone who'd been attacked a few months ago, but Dimitra Florakis was not one to be kept down for long. She flashed Jade a smile and held up the bottle of whiskey she'd stashed away for her private collection. \n\n\"About time you showed up,\" She said, nodding her head to the porch, where two chairs sat. Dimitra had another occupant of the house these days— the woman Serah Karim, had been staying here too. She liked to give her some space, so sitting out on the front porch in the crisp March air seemed nice anyhow. It made her cheeks feel rosy in the coolness, and she took a seat in one of the chairs. \n\n\"Have a seat,\" She said, popping the top and extending out the bottle to her. \"You first, of course. Tell me everything, sweetheart.\" She squeezed her arm soothingly. \"Let it all out.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Dimitra was exactly what Jade needed, and now she could strengthen their bond without worrying about any negative consequences. She looked over at Dimitra to see if she was still in pain, but it seemed like she was okay. Jade hated seeing Dimitra in the hospital bed, it was scary for her because she thought Dimitra was invincible. If Dimitra could get hurt, what did that mean for Jade? But she let that thought pass, as the important thing was that Dimitra was alive and well. She laughed seeing the bottle of booze and quickly hugged Dimitra before taking her seat on the porch.\n\n\"I know, I know. I had to stop by Akira's. I told her that if I wasn't home well after sundown, she may need to come and get me because I am drunk as a skunk,\" She teased, sitting next to Dimitra. Jade wondered what they should talk about first. Should she mention the idea of Dimitra taking over the courier? Or maybe offer her help in running a better business? Dimitra also had stories for days, and Jade loved hearing about her adventures.\n\n\"Well, Arthur left. That's not news, though. I came to forget about him and just drink, gossip, and listen to your adventures. Although, I do want to run something by you eventually.\""
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"Mm!\" She held up a hand as she took a swig straight from the bottle, her hand wrapped around the neck of it. \"I'll just say this—\" She said after she swallowed her hefty gulp. \"Arthur is an idiot to leave a pretty girl like you behind.\" Dimitra meant it, too. Arthur was also an idiot for a lot of other reasons, but that aside... \"But that's besides the point!\" Dimitra handed the bottle to Jade and clapped her hands together. \"First of all— if you want to get your mind off of someone by getting under another, let me know. I'm incredibly good at matchmaking, even for just a night of fun,\" She winked in Jade's direction. \"Speaking of fun— I've gotten myself off the market *Officially*,\" She enunciated her last word crisply, batting her eyelashes. \"So that means a lot of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes are safe from me!\" Dimitra couldn't help but laugh. \n\n\"Now, now... Drink up, we can't gossip if you're sober,\" She leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair. \"I've been a little *Under the weather* The past few months, tell me *Everything.*\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "The Dimitra Florakis was officially on the market! Jade couldn't help but feel so happy for her friend \"Well I'll be!\" She chimed in. \"Someone managed to catch your fancy~ that's so lovely! When are you two gonna debut in town\" She teased. Dimitra was mesmerizing, the woman didn't struggle for admirers. She just looked over at her friend with a soft smile \"Now that you mention it. I do see that relationship glow!\" She teased but once Dimitra insisted on her taking a drink — that was the only prompting she needed. \n\nShe knocked back the bottle and took a big sip. By god it was awful and it burned in her stomach for a moment but one or two more drinks and she would be feeling good. \"Nah, I don't want to be under anyone, not right now at least. Hell, I didn't even sleep with Arthur, maybe that's another reason he hit the road\" She teased. Jade made peace by making jokes. She didn't sleep with him and now that this had gone down... She was glad she didn't. \n\n\"Oh man... Let's see, werewolves messing things up again, love is in the air for many people, Arthur up and vanishing and, while I'm thinking about it... I think there have been a few messy one-night stands...\""
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Dimitra fanned herself, cheeks blooming bright red as she laughed. \"Oh, I don't know if he'd want all that attention...\" A wide grin spread on her lips. \"Besides, it would be scandalous if everyone found out the preacher's been kissing up on a bootlegger,\" She let his identity slip, a laugh following. What an unlikely pair, Abel and Dimitra made— with his furrowed brows and his lips set into a scowl most days as he spat fire and brimstone, and Dimitra with her wide smile and wild hair, dancing the night away with little care in the world. \n\n\"Messy one night stands!\" Dimitra gasped and covered her mouth. \"I know all about those things in my hay day but nothing as of late... Tell me more. Who's poking who? And why is it so *Messy*?\" She crooned. \"Is there a love triangle brewing? Angst? Broken hearts I should know about?\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade let out a playful gasp. Dimitra Florakis done settled up with the preacher! She looked at her friend with wide eyes and a beaming smile \"Well, I'll be damned\" She giggled taking another sip of the strong alcohol, it burned her hallowed-out chest. She saw so much love around her, she had that once. Well... Was it love? He was never really all that nice to her unless it was touching. Jade's first love and first heartbreak. It wasn't bad, or so she thought but alcohol numbed everything. She swore she would never drink this stuff but now? Nothing tasted better to her. \n\n\"Well, I don't know specifics or anything but I've been hearing rumors about a lot of... Encounters\" She teased, she couldn't give names. She had only heard it in passing but that is another reason she was telling Dimitra \"I was hoping you would know some names\" She giggled, already feeling the effects of the good stuff, her cheeks tinted pink. \"It must be something in the air\" She mused, closing her eyes just to listen to the steadiness of Briar Ridge. What a tough month. She felt like she could breathe for the first time in a while. \n\n\"Y'know... I think a part of me knew we wouldn't last long. He was used to more... Experienced women. He never wanted to settle.\" She brought the bottle to her lips again, choking down the strength of it. \"And I didn't even kiss anyone before him. I should've known better\" She wasn't sad. This was just the facts. \n\nArthur wasn't a good man. She thought about what she would've done had he looked away from her that day. She would've never kissed the devil. \n\nMemories felt like weapons"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"Mm... Names...\" She whistled and leaned back in her chair. \"I'm sure I could conjure up a name or three for you, in your pursuit...\" She took a long drink from the bottle they shared and thought it over a moment. \n\n\"Pursuit of gossip is something I'm so good at,\" She chuckled. \"It's old news, but I think there's trouble in paradise between Rhett and Alma,\" She said with her eyebrows raised. \"Just from what I've heard, of course. I'm not spilling all my secrets, Rhett is a wonderful friend of mine...\" She winked after and chuckled. \"If he wasn't head over heels for her, I'd suggest him to you. He's a great kisser.\" \n\nWho hadn't Dimitra tried her hand at in town? \"And I've heard Valerian Barca and Hazel Calhoun are getting *Mighty* Cozy, I'm surprised I haven't heard church bells yet.\" She snickered and crossed one leg over the other. \n\n\"More experienced women—\" She scoffed. \"He doesn't know a gem when he sees one.\" She rested her elbow on the arm of her chair. \"He's an idiot. And I could've ran that courier business with my eyes closed.\" She shook her head. \"Do you want some tobacco?\" She asked her curiously."
}
] | 284 | 2,342 |
330.1875 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "The house had been dusted up proper in preparation for her guest. Jade would be stopping in today for a couple drinks, dinner, and some shooting lessons in accordance with the fact that another full moon was fast approaching. Perhaps the target practice should come before the drinks - though Dimitra was a fine shot after a round or two, she wasn't sure how well Miss Grant could hold her liquor. \n\nThe house smelled great; like roasting meat and fresh bread, Dimitra looked a lot more like a housewife than a bootlegger; though, looks were deceiving. The idea of being someone's wife was both enticing and laughable; she wasn't fit for all that domesticity, even if it sounded mighty nice. \n\nShe was waiting on the woman's arrival, taking things off the wood stove and setting them aside, as well as procuring some of her favorite rum from it's hiding spot under the floorboards."
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Truthfully, the interaction with Dimitra hadn't left Jade's head since that day. She knew it was wrong to be so intrigued by her partner's enemy but in a sense, Dimitra didn't seem to care about the competition after all, she was teaching her how to shoot. A part of her was nervous, she knew that Dimitra had to have low expectations to be teaching her, yet she still didn't want to disappoint the woman. Jade had only held a gun one other time before the full moon fiasco that left all of the people she cared about in shambles. It was back home, her father came home liquored up, and went for her brothers, even as she tried to intercept him to take the abuse instead of them. She didn't remember anything other than the pure terror she felt aiming the barrel at her father before he could even lay a hand on Jackson. Of course, she would never pull the trigger on her and perhaps that is why she hesitated when the time came to shoot the beast. \n\nJade had gotten so lost in her own thoughts, that she hadn't realized she was standing on Dimitra's porch for so long before knocking. Jade could smell the lovely aroma of Dimitras cooking, she would have to learn more than how to shoot a gun from her, Jade was used to southern home cooking but this was certainly different and it made her excited. She hoped that the dessert she brought lived up to what her friend had provided.\n\nBlueberry Jam cake, her grandmother rarely made it but it was so good when they made it around Christmas time so it seemed fitting. She lightly knocked on the door, honestly already a little intimidated"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Right on time. Dimitra had just pulled things out of the oven when the knock came, and she tossed aside her oven mitt to open the door. Her curls were a bit of a mess, tied back with a bandana to keep it out of her face. \n\n\"Welcome, welcome,\" She stepped aside to let her in, a smile on her face. \"You're just in time. Food's on, and then we can get to that target practice.\" She said, shutting the door as Jade entered her house. \"It's not much, but it's mine. Nothing like the caravans back home, though.\" Dimitra shook her head and smiled. \n\n\"Do you prefer whiskey, rum, or shine? I've got all three if you want a nip— on second thought, maybe we'll wait til after the shooting to get drunk!\" She laughed raucously at her own joke. She was a whirlwind of a woman, that was for sure. \n\n\"So, Jade Grant!\" She smacked her hand down on the counter and leaned. \"You wanna kill a werewolf? I'll teach you how to kill a werewolf,\" She promised her. \"Or at least try real damn hard.\" \n\nShe turned to the dishes on the table and gestured. \"Sit! Let's talk. That dessert you brought smells divine— you can set it on the table.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade looked around Dimitras home, it felt cozy, inviting. Dimitra had the same warm and inviting feeling. \"No no, I like it...\" She spoke up as she continued to look around. It was always interesting, everyones house differently decorated to match their personalities. She turned to look at Dimitra at the mention of alcohol \"Yeah, I like the idea of waiting until after, I can't shoot when sober. I don't want to imagine when I am tipsy\" \n\nJade smiled as Dimitra went about her usual self, theatrical, charismatic. \"I believe you are just the one to do that.\" She had grown quite fond of the woman, she liked the easy feeling, similar to the one she felt with Arthur. \"Oh yes yes, Its called Jam Cake\" She set it on the table \"I used to love this dessert as a kid and I figured it sounded right up your alley as well\" \n\nShe sat down across from Dimitra, whatever the woman was cooking smelled amazing. \"So what is on the menu?\" She said with a small tease, she never pictured Dimitra as the type to be in the kitchen but then again, everyone had to feed themselves no?"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"Jam Cake? Sounds to die for, I can't wait to try it,\" She said with a glittering smile as she finished setting everything on the table. \"I've got deer roast with potatoes, turnips, and carrots... Fresh bread I baked,\" She pointed at that too, hands on her hips. \"Hope that'll suffice?\" She said, sitting down again. Dimitra was a restless being; flitting from place to place at all times. She hardly sat down or rested for long unless something in particular had caught her interest. \n\n\"I know what you're thinking—\" She said, pointing as she began to cut into the bread. \"I don't look exactly like a homemaker. My secret? There's a part of me that can't wait to get married and have a family. Of course, I'll still have my own life, you know?\" She raised an eyebrow. \"Too often, women think they have to wholly devote themselves to their husbands. I don't want to be like that; I'll love my lover for as long as I'll live but I'll always be my own person.\" \n\nShe cut into the meat and took a bite with a satisfied hum. \"My mother taught me how to do all this. Half of it over a campfire,\" Dimitra beamed. \"I can make quick work on a stove or an oven.\" \n\nDimitra really didn't seem the domestic type, but you could never judge a book by its cover."
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Dimitra had really seemed to put out the best of the best. It was flattering. \"Of course that will suffice, I hate you had to go through so much effort, I truly would've been fine with anything\" She didn't want to seem as if she was... Uptight? High maintenance? Although she was certain if Dimitra thought that or if Jade acted like that. Dimitra would tell her about herself in a heart beat. \n\nShe liked that, someone who didn't sugarcoat. Dimitra and Arthur were alike in that way. Jade completely understood Dimitra as she spoke \"Yes!\" She said almost too excitedly. \"Sorry- I mean yes, I completely understand. I want to be married someday but I want them to love me for me not because I cook, clean and just sit pretty for them.\" Dimitra and her finally had common ground other than the trope of her lovers rival. \n\n\"A campfire? That's amazing. My family, we lived in houses owned by the mines so we had a wood stove and things like that. Although man, every time there was an explosion in the mine, it shook the whole house.\" She waved that thought away \"Never mind that.\" She laughed \"How is reading your book going? Still to your liking I hope\" Jade liked to think she could tell a lot about what people may have liked to read. \n\nHazel, she wanted something warm and comforting, perhaps a sense of belonging. Dimitra, she was totally for adventure, Valerian, he was the type for classics. \n\n\"If I may ask, how did you learn to shoot a gun?\" \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Dimitra snickered just a bit, digging into her food hungrily and with purpose. She wasn't one for certain table manners in certain companies, and she was sure Jade didn't mind if she was a bit of a mess right now as she scooped food into her mouth. She sopped up sauce with her bread as Jade talked, only pausing to swallow so she could speak. \n\n\"Marriage... You'd be marrying into something awfully interesting with Arty, huh?\" She snickered and leaned an elbow on the table to wink at her. \"Then again, who am I to talk, right?\" She laughed and waved her hand around a little bit dismissively. \"One day, I want to marry someone...\" She tilted her head in thought. \"Someone who is interesting, I think. Someone who keeps me on my toes. Not too nice, but not mean either. Someone who can keep me in line when I'm a little too much. God knows, I am too much.\" \n\nShe prodded at her food and sent another wink her way. \"The book? Oh, I finished it in a day and a half! I was up half the night squinting at the words by candlelight, desperate to finish. It was amazing. I figured I'd come by soon, grab another book, see where that gets me.\" She chuckled and scooped another bite into her mouth. \n\n\"I learned to shoot from my brothers. Got a whole lot of them. I'm the baby, see, and the only girl. My brothers were awfully protective of me, especially after *The incident*, so... They figured it was time I learned how to defend myself. You would not believe how many people think they can just do whatever they like with travelers; they thought we weren't real people. Think we're just travelling dolls, fortune tellers... They thought they could just do whatever they liked.\" She scoffed. \"Shot a man in the foot once for putting his hand up my skirt.\" Dimitra laughed. \"The nerve of some men.\" \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade truthfully hadn't thought of marriage until Arthur waltzed into her life with a damn job offer. Sometimes she hated how easily her defenses fell. Perhaps that meant she was safe, she twisted her grandmothers engagement ring around her finger. She let out a dry laugh \"Arthur Maldorano probably has zero interest in the domestics of marriage\" She fluttered her hand as if tossing the thought away. She listened to Dimitra talk about her own hopes for marriage \"Too much? Oh please, if they can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen.\" She teased. Dimitra deserved to be happy, someone was nice to her, maybe even too nice as she would say \n\n\"Oh well, I have plenty of recommendations waiting for you when you find the time to come back to the library.\" She didn't want to seem too pushy. She listened onto Dimitra, although hearing that someone tried to take advantage of her. It left a foul taste in her mouth but Dimitra very obviously handled it. She grinned \"Well, I'm glad the man got what he deserved. Thankfully I don't think any of the men I've met in Briar Ridge have been... Distasteful\" She lightly bounced her leg, she always had trouble sitting still. \"So, what would you think is the hardest about firing a gun? My father always described it as something hellacious but then again he was also in the army so that may be the only reason he described it as such.\" She was almost nervous \n\nShe didn't want to disappoint Dimitra by fumbling so hard, she didn't want to seem like a screw up. Not again, she didn't want to let anyone down, she didn't want to let Arthur down again. She didn't like the look in his eye that stayed for weeks on end. \"What if I'm no good?\" She questioned \"Can someone be unteachable?\" \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Jade was fascinating to her; she was on the quieter side, she seemed a bit timid... And yet found herself not only working for the Maldoranos, but sleeping with Arthur. She couldn't help but think how interesting that was; she supposed it made some sort of sense, *Opposites attract* And all. \n\n\"You don't know that,\" She pointed out, using her spoon to gesture. \"Arthur could slap on an apron any day now and start domesticating himself!\" That caused her to laugh, the very thought was ridiculous but hilarious all at once. \n\n\"There are plenty of distasteful men in Briar Ridge,\" She promised Jade. \"But there are just as many lovely ones. Your Arthur is up for debate *But* As long as he treats you well, I don't feel the need to cut off his fingers,\" She snickered and stood with her bowl, now empty, and put it in the wash basin. \"But believe me, those old drunks at the speakeasy can be just as lecherous as the ones from back home. I just can't shoot 'em in the foot or someone will surely throw me right in the slammer.\" Dimitra rinsed her bowl out with the jug of water, set to scrubbing. \n\nThankfully, the conversation turned back to guns, and she smiled easily. \"Ha! You're not unteachable, sweetheart,\" She cooed and came back to the table, leaning on it as she watched her a moment. \n\n\"You just have to remember to not be so skittish,\" She said, reaching out and touching her hair curiously a moment. \"That's the thing— you have to be confident with it. You get scared? That's when people get hurt, yourself included.\" She curled her hair around her finger and then let go, drumming her fingers on the table. \"As soon as you're done, we're going out back to shoot a few bottles and cans.\" She told her. \"You'll be a sharpshooter when I'm done with you.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade couldn't for the life of her place what attracted her to the wildcards, both Dimitra, a trickster with a walk like a sphynx and Arthur, a hot head who shot first and questioned second. Both of them alike in their own ways. Jade liked to think she lived vicariously through them, they were everything she wasn't after all, strong willed, brave, most importantly they weren't as sheltered as her. She had seen horrors, but those were her own familial horrors. Nothing compared to what the both of them had seen, she was oblivious to malice unless it was physical. She didn't know the burning anger until recently, loved ones hurt. That would eat her alive with guilt, she couldn't make the damn shot and now she was angry, something she never wanted to be. Something her father always was. \n\nShe felt Dimitra's fingers flutter through the waves of brunette, she flustered, daring to half heartedly meet her gaze \"Confident...\" She repeated, was that something she could even muster? She didn't want the ability to hurt other living things but she **Needed** It if she were going to live in Briar Ridge, she refused to be as useless as her father thought her to be. \"We can go now\" She hated to not have ate anything but her nerves were wound far too tight and the last thing she needed was to be sick in front of Dimitra. She felt the blaze of embarrassment just from the very thought. \n\nDimitra seemed to believe that she was teachable, Dimitra had yet to steer her wrong, she didn't think the woman would ever do it purposely. \"Okay, not skittish and confident\" She repeated as if trying to manifest it into it's own truth. Steady hands, she could do that, she didn't shake often. Especially not when patching someone up. Yet another annoying thought came to her rather anxious mind \"What if I accidentally kill an animal?\" \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "\"You're going to do just fine,\" She promised Jade, and slowly came to stand before pulling her to her feet too. \"You can eat after we're done, then. I'm not letting you leave until you gotten a belly full and you can shoot a good shot.\" \n\nShe was insistent, heading to the back door of the house and pushing it open. The screen door swung open with ease and she gestured to the area behind her house; dense trees and a path. There was also a few crates set up, and on those, bottles and jars and the like. \n\nShe grabbed her faithful gun, hauling ass to get down to the shooting range she'd set up for Jade. \"If you kill an animal, sweet thing, we'll skin it and cook it up. As is life,\" She said. \"Don't let it go to waste and whatnot.\" \n\nDimitra handed Jade the gun, eyebrows raised. \"It's empty, so don't you worry. Can you show me how you *Think* You hold a gun?\" She asked her, gesturing to the rifle. Jade looked terrified with that thing in her hands, honestly. \"If you're scared of the gun, you'll get yourself hurt and somebody else. You have to be calm and in control,\" She told her, coming to stand close behind her, hands on her shoulders. \"Deep breaths. In and out.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "If Dimitra said it, it had to be true right? She knew more about the world than Jade did. She let out a small laugh, nodding her head. \"Alright alright, I just know I ain't gonna do too good if I eat. I may get so nervous that I...\" She trailed off, she was about to embarrass herself. \"Well you know\" She waved her own words away. None of the women of Briar Ridge had ever made her so flustered. What in the world was so different about Dimitra, perhaps because there was no awkward phase between them? Miss Hazel and Miss Maeve were lovely company but there was so much to be learned yet she felt as if she knew Dimitra for years. How odd. She knew nothing more about the woman, she still had much to learn about her, and she liked to hear the stories. It was better than any book she could think of. \n\nShe followed Dimitra out the door, the screen door closing behind them with a soft thud. She looked at the crates, the bottles. Was this a good time to mention that she had terrible aim? She had given Jackson one too many bruises with a baseball because she couldn't aim at his dang blasted glove. Jade looked down at the gun with a bit of a deer in the headlights. \"I suppose you're right\" She let out a soft huff before following her down to the makeshift range. Sweet thing, Arthur called her that sometimes and it was equally as flustering. She watched as Dimitra held out the rifle, okay, no worries she thought. It's empty, she can't do any damage. Jade followed Dimitra's instruction before pointing the rifle, the butt of the gun lifted to her left shoulder, her dominant hand's shoulder. She didn't know much but she did hear her father talking with his old war stories sometimes. He called it a stock weld and thankfully Jade had the privilege of knowing how to read, she remembered the older man's look when she asked for a book about guns. Yet she was still terrified, this thing was so big and bulky.\n\nShe felt Dimitra's hands on her shoulders, she took that as she was too tense but it also flustered Jade to no end, the pink instantaneously rushing to her cheeks. Control, Calm. She sucked in a deep breath before exhaling \"Do smaller guns work better? If those even exist\" She questioned."
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She held in a laugh as Jade positioned herself. She didn't want to laugh and make Jade think she was doing anything wrong, but it was entirely *Adorable* How she looked so nervous; like a child holding their father's gun for the first time, a little awkward, too big for their small body. Dimitra pressed closer behind her and adjusted Jade's grip on the gun, her hand sliding up the woman's arm to fix her hands. \"We'll work on smaller guns after you master how to use this big boy. This'll blast a hole right through one of those werewolves,\" She told her. \"Now...\" \n\nShe laid her hand over Jade's. \"You'll cock the gun and...\" She pulled the trigger; it was empty, so it made clicking sound. \"Look down the barrel and try and line up your target,\" She said in her ear. \n\n\"You ready for me to load this?\" She asked her. \"Don't worry, I've got you some cheap ammo to work with.\" She finally backed off as she grabbed the little box and held them up. \"I'll teach you how to load it up, too.\" Dimitra promised her with a grin. \"Once you land a few shots, I'll show you how to use my pistol.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade must've looked so awkward with that thing in her hands. Dimitra must've thought the same thing judging the way Dimitra couldn't hide herself so well, not from Jade at the very least. She let out a small laugh as Dimitra waltzed over and helped. Jade flustered as Dimitra pressed close to her. She felt the heat rushing to her cheeks. \"Smaller guns may be more my speed.\" Was any gun her speed? Considering her miss, Dimitra's words had a way of making her feel more comfortable. Dimitra's hands were warm as they grazed Jade's. Dimitra essentially led Jade's hands throughout the shooting process. She wasn't as confident but she would get there. Jade looked to Dimitra before nodding \"I reckon so...\" A nervous giggle slipped past her lips. \"You can't get too mad at me if I break something, please.\" \n\nShe looked to the ammo, a wave of curiousity making its way over her. She had seen ammunition before but it was only the casing, sometimes they were outside the Courier, and sometimes she found them outside in the yard from when her daddy had gone out there drunk. She nodded showing that she understood Dimitra. \"So which one is easier to handle? The bigger one or the smaller one? Or does it not make a difference?\" She could ask Arthur this kind of stuff but he wouldn't really answer her. He was very much a 'don't worry your pretty little head' type of person, she liked it. Yet sometimes she really did need to know more. There would be things he couldn't always protect her from... Yet she held herself to the standard to always protect her friends. She looked up from the ammo and at Dimitra, she wanted to be like her. Fearless, absolutely fearless this woman was. \n\nClever, and pretty. Very Pretty. Dimitra was a beautiful soul and Jade felt the warmth just from being around her. It was a nice reminder that she didn't have to be a housewife, she didn't have to be a mother, she could do her own thing. Dimitra had done it ten times over. \"Do you think it is fun to shoot? When thing\n\nS aren't life or death I mean\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Dimitra watched Jade a moment as she took the gun from her and demonstrated how to open the gun and slide the ammo into the proper chamber, before she closed it up. \"Make sure your safety's on or you'll blow a hole in your foot,\" She told her. A grin crossed her lips and she shrugged. \n\n\"It can be a lot of fun, I think. Helps me let off steam sometimes, just going out and shooting at a squirrel and taking it home for dinner. Not with this thing, though. This'll blast a squirrel straight to bits,\" She laughed and shook her head, helping Jade get back into position. \n\n\"This gun might give you a little kickback, alright? Just hold onto it firm, don't be scared of it. You're in control of it.\" She squeezed her shoulders and backed up a step. \n\n\"Alright, Jade. Let me see what you got, girl.\" Dimitra crossed her arms over her chest, dissecting Jade's stance. Honestly, sometimes, she was envious of girls like Jade. \n\nShe was cute, she had a man to help her along the way and tell her not to worry about a single damn thing. That sounded kind of nice, sometimes; to not have to think. Not that Jade didn't think... But to be able to rely on someone and trust them so wholly, that for a moment, you don't have to? That seemed nice. Of course, she would never find that in Jade's *Abysmal* Taste in men... Arthur Maldorano of all people? But she supposed the heart wants what it wants. She knew that better than most. \n\n\"Fix your legs, stand sturdy. Once we finish with this, we'll switch to the handgun. You'll find it easier, but this thing will help you take out a wolf. A little handgun will only stun the damn thing.\""
},
{
"author": "mintbelle",
"message": "``This interaction has ended``"
}
] | 338.5 | 5,283 |
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{
"author": "mintbelle",
"message": "I'm burning down every bridge we made\nI'll watch you choke on the hearts you break\nI'm bleeding out every word you said\nGo to hell, for heaven's sake"
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Alma is her friend. Well, she was her friend. She looked up to Alma and admired her strength in times like these where no one knew friend or foe. Your best friends, your family, and your lovers. They could all be wolves, and no one would know. Only the wolves knew. Yet in their case, knowledge was not power. They were just as helpless as their victims. She was ignorant once, too. She was a part of the coalition—actually, she still is. She was the one who blinded one with coffee and the one who had taken a few missed shots. She spent her nights at the cage with Alma, talking about books and theories. She loved to listen to Alma talk about her students and her recent rebuild as a mechanic. Yet as soon as Jade uttered those few words, it would all be gone. Jade would watch as Alma's once bright smile and twinkle-filled eyes turned into a snarl of pure rage. \n\nShe deserved it. She hated herself too; that's why she sought Alma out on the full moon. She knew Alma would do the kindness of putting a bullet through her skull, and all would stop. Things would be quiet. Only Jade didn't get to confess that night. Rhett, Alma's lover, had also been attacked, and he smelled like her. He, too, had been changed. She wondered if that was her own doing; maybe she would tell Alma it was to give her motive. Alma was angry that night and distraught. She had been there too, as had Arthur and Akira, both. She knew what it was like. When Jade and Akira walked into the room, Alma immediately tore into them. Shady was the only thing stopping Alma from her attack. Jade left, but still brought Alma books and food. A silent empathy, a silent apology...\n\nNow, Jade was up... Barely and making dinner, Alma would be over here shortly, and Jade was unsure of how to take it. She had Jackson set her grandmother's rings on the table so that Alma could silver-test her if she felt so inclined. Jade was not angry; she was at the end of her rope, where if someone were to attack, she would not try to calm them; she would not take it with a smile. The beast inside of her and her father's genetics could not take anymore of her own habits. Instead, she would bark back. She would show her snarl, and she would prove that she was the very beast that they feared. Not because of this... Curse, but because Jade Grant had enough. She was tired of her lover crying, struggling, and being painted as the bad guy; she was tired of the divide it had caused.\n\nShe was tired; she would turn into everything she feared—her father's daughter. She hoped it would not come to that, but she was ready. She could not fear the inevitable.\n\nThere was a knock on the screen door, and she paused, motioning Aki with a slight nod of her head to head to their room. She did not want to be present, and Jade did not blame her. Jade wiped her hands on her apron and met Alma at the door, painting on her best smile. \"Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes? C'mon in. Dinner is almost ready. Then we can chat.\" Jade may not have been herself, but she still had pieces of her left, and she would be damned if Alma left without a full belly."
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "`TW: light mentions of a PTSD related ED`\n\nA War of Attrition. \n\nAlma finally knew what those words meant. She thought she had. She'd seen them placed side by side in textbooks before. She'd written them on the chalkboard and explained them out syllable by syllable to sleepy-eyed teenagers in the schoolhouse. France's march into Russia. The trenches on the Western Front. Alma had wielded those words with a calm and patient countenance year after year, but today she felt it in her bones. \n\nRhett was awake more than he was asleep now. \n\nIt was good. It was great, really. She could rest, but she didn't. There was only a month left for them to find the cure and, although she swore she'd leave them be, she was more desperate for it now than ever before. *Rhett was a werewolf.* She couldn't bear the thought of it, yet it plagued her at night. Her Rhett, one of *Them*. Rhett, who kept the woodstove blazing just so Spider had a warm sleepin' spot in the winter time. Rhett, whose gentle voice could dispel even the worst of nightmares. Rhett, who danced with her barefoot in the kitchen. Had been attacked again, and this time *Turned*. \n\nShe wanted them dead. \n\nBut she couldn't. Not while they were working on the cure that might save him. Might save Shady. Might save those babies. Alma had no choice but to sit on the sidelines and *Watch*. Every single day was a fight not to show up again and harass the Hirano's for a progress report. She swore she wouldn't meddle. Swore she wouldn't do it again. Wouldn't get violent again and trust them to do what they promised they'd do, but Alma was gettin' real sick and tired of waiting. Especially with there only bein' a single month left. It took every fiber of her being not to grab up Akira Hirano that morning of the full moon and demand she give her the cure that instant. That she do her damn job and ***End this Hell.*** \n_ _\n\nWhich is why Alma lingered at the end of the path leading to the cottage like a wraith. Her clothes, fetched up by Shady, hung off her. She'd always had issues keepin' weight on but, in these last few weeks (and this past one especially), it truly was startin' to show. Her cheeks were gaunt and her hair was lifeless. It'd been plaited and coiled up high on top of her head, but she hadn't washed it in a few days. She couldn't bear to be parted from Rhett a moment longer than she had to. Just cause he could speak more now didn't mean she was comfortable. She entrusted him to the only person she knew was still on her side: Shady Rooster. \n\n*Don't let them slip him any pain killers. He don't want 'em. Watch everyone, includin' his aunts. They're tryin' to do what's best for him, but he just got off 'em.*\n\nNow she had to be *Here* With *Wolves* Instead of holdin' his hand. Jade and Akira had said enough for her to understand the gist of what was about to happen. Either one of 'em could've been the one to tear Rhett apart. Either one of 'em deserved a bullet in their heads. Both, really. But Alma couldn't go in there like that. She couldn't. So, she waited til she cooled off. Passersby looked at her oddly as she stared down the Grant cottage with a look that'd set it on fire if she only struck a match, her nose crinkled in disgust and her lips turned into a snarl. \n\n*They'd hurt him, they'd hurt him, they'd hurt him!*\n\nAlma'd said that if Aki hurt a single hair on his—\n\nBreathe. \n_ _\n\nThey were turning themselves in. They had a month. She could do this. One might think that Alma's anger would make her move quick as a rattlesnake, but she'd come to befriend it now that it was all she had left. Once she started moving, each step forward became purposeful. Prideful. Deliberate. Stubborn. Always stubborn, always a Cooper. She knocked three times on the screen door and took two quick steps back, waiting for it to be answered. When Jade pulled the door open, Alma was greeted by the heavenly scent of fresh cooked food. She'd only been pickin' at offerin's brought over by Rhett's aunts and Shady and even Jade herself for the past week. Something good and *Warm* Already threatened to thaw some of the ice around Alma's heart, but she knew she wasn't here on a house visit. This was business. \n\nAlma returned Jade's smile with a polite kind of lip twitch that you might give a neighbor despite the way they always let their dog do their business in your yard. \n\n\"Thank you, Jade,\" She replied with an odd sort of neutrality, having the sense to reign in her rage. She could do this. She stepped through the open door, taking care to knock the dirt off her boots before she crossed fully through the threshold. She may have been on a warpath, but she still had *Manners*. Her eyes scanned the cottage curiously and she found that it was quite homely. Hell, comfortable even. It was all too easy for her to imagine herself and the librarian curled up in those two chairs over there, giggling over a borrowed book while their glasses of lemonade sweated onto the table. Instead of lemonade, though, she found silver rings. Curious. \n\n\"Do you need any help in the kitchen?\" She offered, both out of a curiosity for the menu and a desire to *Do* Something. Alma despised sitting still. Waiting for dinner sounded like Hell. Working for dinner sounded like a good way to keep her mind off of what was to come."
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade tried to swallow her nerves; Alma was her friend. Alma was hurt too, and Alma needed just as much grace as they did, though Jade would've never treated others that way. Everyone was human, and no one asked for this. By God, she never asked for this. \"No, no, you just sit and look pretty,\" Jade mused. \"All I've got to do is put it on some plates.\" She set the first one in front of Alma and left her plate on the counter. Not hungry at this very moment. Alma was a smart woman; she saw Jade hobbled due to a silver bullet. She could put two and two together. She knew Alma didn't beat around the bush, and out of respect for her, neither would Jade. \"Alma, I want to thank you for coming here. I know it's rough to leave a loved one's side,\" She looked down. \"I wish I could say who hurt him, but the truth is... I don't know. But I grieve for you and Rhett... It's a hard transition.\" She chewed her lower lip. \"I see your pain, and I can sense it. Akira told me I have healing hands, but I don't know if the infection negates that.\"\n\n\"I want to turn myself in. I don't want to be a danger to anyone, and obviously, I am because I was shot and stabbed in the shoulder. I was a threat to someone, and that doesn't sit right with me.\" She looked at the silver rings. \"I had Jackson put these on the table in case you wanted me to prove how far I am willing to go. Burn me with these; they are something I hold dear, something sentimental, because that is what I deserve for betraying the community. I want the same thing you do: safety for my loved ones. Do you think I want Jackson to have this infection? I don't. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.\" She knew this came as a shock, but her intention was not to blindside Alma. She was being transparent. She desperately needed Alma to believe her. \"Please, Alma, I do not want to be your enemy. You were there when I got attacked. I didn't ask for this, but I would choose it again if it meant that you or anyone else went home untouched.\"\n\nWhat was she asking of Alma? She was asking Alma to see her at this moment, to see Jade for who she was. She was the woman who sat with Alma, curled around a warm cup of coffee. She would take a bullet for Alma. She protected her pack, even before she was a wolf. She was showing her loyalty, demonstrating that she had no tricks up her sleeve and no sneak attack."
}
] | 643.5 | 2,598 |
307.555556 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Jackson Grant",
"message": "*It'd been a couple of years. Now, it all felt so surreal. The sun shined bright, the leaves rustled in the wind, and the land was blooming with lush green and vibrant flowers as spring rolled around.* \n\n*His train of thought of thought all but deadened as he stepped onto the path to the door. Even though he'd never been here, a familiarity seemed to linger around the cozy cottage. It had a certain touch he recognized.* \n\n*Jackson had gotten rid of all his possessions that wouldn't fit into the leather bag slung over his shoulder in order to make the journey from Coalwood to here. He walked many miles, worked odd jobs, hopped trains, fought, lived a life he hadn't known before, all to end up right here. He looked rough, but he was still healthy. Still the same boy, Despite life as a vagabond. Nothing some proper care couldn't take care of. Just a bit taller now.* \n\n*The air seemed to stand still as he froze on the doormat. He took in one last long breath before he gave a few gentle knocks on the door.* \n\n*After that, he couldn't help but smile, and dropped the subtly.* \n\n\"JAAAAaaade~!\" *Jackson hollered out in that singsong way, like how they'd call for each other while playing hide n' seek all those years ago.* \n\n*Jackson could hardly stand still now, and was all but dancin' in anticipation.*"
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade hadn't seen Jackson since she left home, that was the only thing she missed about home. Jackson, they hadn't been separated since he was a baby. They spent every day and night together, Jackson was the best little brother anyone could've wanted. It felt so wrong to leave him behind. She swore to him and herself that come hell or high water she was going to bring him to Briar Ridge. \n\nLittle did she know, he had beaten her to it. She was making herself dinner when she heard the knocking on the door. Odd, she didn't remember inviting anyone over. Yet she heard a familiar voice taunting her, just like when they were kids. Jackson sings out her name while waiting to be found. No... It couldn't be. She was just imagining things because of all of the stress. Yet she found herself opening the door and coming face to face with a man. No! That man was her little brother, Jade went through a moment of shock before happiness erupted, and she quickly pulled Jackson into her, boy he was taller than her now but nothing would ever stop her from being his big sister. \"You're here!\" She could nearly cry she was so happy. She pulled back to get a good look at him. She held her hands on his forearms \n\n\"Oh Jackie, you need some meat on your bones!\" She teased, nothing a little love and care couldn't fix. She pulled him into another hug, the pot on the wood stove completely boiling over and making a hiss for attention but the only thing that had her attention right now was her beloved baby brother. He was safe and he was home with her. She could protect him, take care of him. \"Please tell me you are staying for good.\" She muttered not pulling away from a hug. After the months she had, this was the perfect pick me up. Her little brother was home."
},
{
"author": "Jackson Grant",
"message": "\"Oh goodness I missed you.\" *Jackson murmured into the hug, finally feeling like he could breathe again, like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, like light had finally broken through the clouds. There wasn't enough words to describe the relief he felt knowing his sister was safe and doing alright out here. This place already felt like home just knowing she was here for him.* \n\n\"I'm just traveling light.\" *Jackson would quip back with a little grin, before being tugged back into the hug, which he'd happily return to. Giving big sis a well deserved squeeze.* \n\n\"I'm not leaving anytime soon, I can promise you that much.\" *Jackson swore, as giving a gentle rock and sway into the hug, almost making a happy little dance out of it.* \n\n\"I should kick you for leaving me like that.\" *Sure it hurt a little, but Jackson just teased, before his nose caught wind of something satisfactory. Then his eyes locked in on it.* \n\n\"Seems your soup is happy to see me too, it can hardly contain itself.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade was holding her baby brother, Jackson Grant, tightly and didn't let him go even when he tried to pull away. She was overjoyed to finally be reunited with him. Jade had promised herself that she would come back for him once she had a stable home to bring him to. While Briar Ridge was not necessarily stable with werewolves running around, she wanted to sort herself out first. Arthur had already left, so she didn't need to worry about that craziness in his life anymore. \n\n\"You're traveling light! You look like you haven't eaten anything!\" She scolded, but was happy to hear that he wouldn't be leaving. \"Well, that's good to hear because you have a bedroom waiting for you,\" She said. Jade felt terrible about leaving her little brother behind, but assured him that things would be better now and they would never have to be separated again. She knew she needed to sit him down and talk about the werewolves, and how he was not to get involved with the cage at the Davis ruins. On full moons, he would have to stay inside the safe houses because those werewolves were angry and ruthless. If any of them grazed so much as a hair on Jackson's head, they would regret it. \n\nJade was pulled out of her thoughts by Jackson's comment and she laughed. Things already felt so much better now that he was home. They had a home, and it would be a happy one filled with laughter. \n\n\"It's been hard cooking for myself! A lot of food goes uneaten, so I hope you still have an appetite,\" She said, as she started to get their bowls down."
},
{
"author": "Jackson Grant",
"message": "\"Fasting actually has it's fair share of health benefits you know.\" *Jackson would swat off her scolding with a bit of playful banter. Though of course his 'fasting' wasn't always his choice. But he was relieved to hear word of a proper bed. A good nights sleep on a real bed was something that had been scarce to him for quite some time. His prayers were finally getting answered. He could already feel himself being swaddled with warmth.* \"Thank goodness. You're really a savior, you know that?\" \n\n*With that he gave his big sis a kiss on the cheek and set his bag down in a seat at the end of the table, trying to orient himself and help set the table all at once.* \"Oh I doubt that'll be an issue much longer.\" *He responded to the comment about uneaten meals. He might be just a little thing, but he could still eat a horse right about now.* \n\n\"This is a pretty little spot you've got here Jade. Seems like you're doing well for yourself. Briar Ridge huh? How'd you hear of this slice of heaven?\" *He'd ponder out loud, pulling out a seat at the table for the both of them.*"
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade couldn't quite believe it, Jackson had come home. Well maybe not the home they had grown up in but he was back in her care. She set the bowl in front of Jackson along with a glass of lemonade. She couldn't help but run her fingers through his hair as she hovered over him. He was still just as precious as he was when he was six. \"Well, I heard it from one of Mama's friends. This is where they got their shine from... So, I came here with what little money I had and well now we're here...\" She mused \"Everyone is real nice here but I do have to warn you about its... Quirks,\" She said for lack of a better term. \n\n\"Now Jackson, I know what I am gonna say is gonna sound like some sort of scary story but it ain't no story. You hear me?\" She felt nervous to tell Jackson, would she be able to protect him? Of course, she would. She vowed to herself that it wouldn't happen, not with the boys at school, not with her father, and certainly no damn werewolves. \"The full moons... They make some crazy things happen... Some... Wolves come out of the woods and they are violent, there are some of us in a cage, but there are safe houses, now you ought to stick with a safe house. They ain't come here but that doesn't mean they won't\" \n\n\"I'll start leaving Daddy's gun with you.\" Jade knew this would be a lot to take in but it was better to just go right ahead and rip the bandaid off."
},
{
"author": "Jackson Grant",
"message": "*Jackson all but purred feeling the familiar sensation of Jade playing in his hair. He'd happily graze at his soup and sip at his lemonade, he was just about in heaven, happy as could be having a proper warm meal and his big sister to keep him company.* \n\n*Now, he just needed a good wash.* \n\n*Hearing Jade's tone shift, Jackson turned their way and looked up to her with those eager little eyes like they'd done time and time again.* \n\n*There was disbelief for a moment. A face that read 'You're shitting me right?'*\n\n*But, He tried to have faith in her words, he could see her worry. He swallowed his doubts, and took a deep breath.* \n\n\"If any sort of wolves come 'round, I'll be damned if I let you out of my sight again. You better keep that gun tucked closed, for both of our sakes. I'm gonna be sticking to you like glue.\" *Jackson spoke.* \n\n*He appreciated the advice, but he wouldn't be found hiding away. He'd go out fighting by his sister's side. He'd reach out to grab his sister's hand and gently coddle it with his own.*\n\n\"Come full moon, we'll get through it together, alright?\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade was happy to have her little brother back, yet she felt dread. She had doomed them both with this town. She had to protect him, he was her baby brother. She couldn't leave him to defend himself, not again. Not when she fought hard to make this place a safe haven that they both could have. Yet she distracted herself by playing in his hair. \"We will stay together then but don't you dare go taking hits for me either.\" She looked at him, a certain gaze she had when she was actually serious and a little intimidating. Though Jackson may be too old for that gaze to work on him now. \n\n\"Well... I suppose now that I got the news out of the way, I better put some water on the wood stove so you can get cleaned up. You'll feel better after, I'm sure\" She laughed trying to change the subject as she started to put another pot on the stove but there was one thing she had to admit before doing that. \"I should tell you... I am a terrible shot, so maybe you better hold the gun, you'll never believe me but I actually had better luck pouring hot coffee on one of those beasts than an actual gun.\" \n\nShe debated telling him about everything, other than the wolves. She had the library, Arthur, the town, the speakeasy. \"I think you'll like it here... It's an odd little town, and you can even help me down at the library if you want!\""
},
{
"author": "Jackson Grant",
"message": "*Jackson froze a moment, seeing that familiar glare. That 'don't test me you little shit' glare he got from Jade plenty of times before they had their regular little scraps and bouts of sibling squabbles, pulling hair, biting, all kinds of barbarism. (Though they always seemed to hug it out by the end of the night). Were they still capable or that sort of thing? He didn't want to find out quite yet, so he disengaged. Backing down to his soup and spooning up another bite.* \n\n\"Let's just meet in the middle, and not get bit at all? That sounds fair.\" *A bit of wishful thinking Jackson bargained, before listening intently to his sister speak of her experience's and tales from the battlefront. Earning a little chuckle.* \"Whatever works best, but in case of emergencies I say we make sure to always have a hot pot of Joe on standby then.\" \n\n*He grabbed up the bowl and pulled it up to his lips, tilted it back and drank the rest of his soup. Then he hopped up, cleaned his little area, tucked his chair in, and went right to washing his dishes.* \n\n\"Here's hoping. People seem kind enough so far. I've got a good feeling about it.\" *He answered before leaning against the counter, turning to face his sister.* \n\n\"I don't see why not, until I've got something else lined up. I'll help whenever I can to help. I hope to keep myself good and busy. Eventually... I'd sort of like to open a little shop of my own. But I've got a bit of work to do before that's ready to go.\""
}
] | 312 | 2,768 |
348.5 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "After the blizzard, the full moon, and visiting with Akira. Jade had hardly maintained her home and now that she was alone. It was impossible to keep warm, no matter how much wood she put in the wood stove. It didn't stop her from seeing her breath inside. She felt as if she couldn't catch a break but she couldn't sit around feeling sorry for herself. She had sent for Jackson to come live with her and that meant getting her own house up to par. She had to push Arthur, her pain, how she felt. All of it was pushed to the back burner. She had to get things back in order. She was running the courier shop for Arthur, she was managing the library, and helping with the search for Francis Estep. She was just used to doing instead of feeling. She didn't help herself at all by sitting in the snow all night after the full moon. She wondered if anyone would answer her ad. She knew that being her and asking for help... She didn't deserve it but she could hope. She let out a soft wince as she pulled the clunky chest of blankets out from the spare room and moved it to the living room. Her shoulder was still healing up but she had absolutely no room to complain, people were mourning and looking for their loved ones. She shook those thoughts away, just focusing on what she was preparing for those who showed up. Chicken & Dumplings and Blueberry Jam cake. \n\nThis meal was the only thing she felt like she could control, she couldn't control how things unfolded on the night of the full moon, how the blizzard had affected her home. She couldn't control the fact of when Francis would be found. She focused on the bubbling pot on the wood stove and the cake sitting on her counter. She hoped that this would be enough, she did have a little bit of money to give as well but she could never really tell what was good enough anymore. She waited nervously. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. Had she lost the friendship of everyone in town? How could she fix it?"
},
{
"author": "Jasper Hewitt",
"message": "Truth be told, Jasper had started over so many times he had all but forgotten what came after. Each new town a new table to play, a well practiced step-by-step to lay his cards just right to profit. Start with the notice board to find those in need, find an ear to listen and a hand to feed, then move on before the anyone looked too close at his costume. Briar Ridge however twisted this pattern. The dull ache in his leg was a visceral reminder he was in no shape to run. With his purse running near empty, Jasper had to accept the fact he would _actually_ have to put the work in this time around.\n\nTher notice had been simple enough, a request for a helping hand, labor for a meal and pay. That he could do, at least that. Jasper pulled the coat tighter across his chest, shivering. The winter this year had a bite to it almost worse than the wolves.\n\nThe cottage belonging to Jade Grant took a few turns to find, Jasper still unfamiliar with the twists and turns of the town. Winter had washed all color from the scene, the large tree spreading its currently bare branches skyward. Come spring, they would be heavy with lush green leaves, but now they grasped at the air like fingers of death himself, searching for more innocent souls to claim. Still, smoke rose through the chimney, cutting its path through the cold air as a reminder that the people of Briar Ridge were still here, and the winter and all else would one day pass.\n\nJasper hesitated on the doorstep, a tug at the fabric to fix the way his coat fell across his shoulders and a tug at the seams of himself so all pieces of him, this version of him, fell into place. The note said the door was open yet he elected instead to knock, knuckles rapping against the wood. After all, even creatures worse than him needed an invitation to cross the threshold."
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade knew that Arthur wouldn't like that she had put an ad out and was by herself but she had no other choice. She was freezing, she could even see her own breath. As if she were some sort of dragon, exhaling the smoke from its lungs. Once she heard the knock on the door, she jolted out of her own thoughts and went to let the stranger in. She opened the door to see Jasper, normally she would be intimidated but could she really have any fear? After what she had been through in the town. \n\n\"Well I'll be\" She spoke in a friendly tone. \"You must be here because of the ad I presume\" She waved her hand to usher him in. \"Come on in, goodness it's cold.\" She felt the chill setting in just from having the door open, not that the cottage was any warmer than outside. The woodstove provided some heat. \"Well, I hope you are hungry. This is supposed to make up for the money, or well lack their of\" She sheepishly offered what she had from her pocket. \"It ain't much, I'm sorry about that\" She chewed the inside of her cheek before shaking off the mean thoughts of herself. \"Well here, let me get you a bowl, its homemade tomato soup. Canning is important for the winter, especially one like this\" She had spent the summer stocking up on things that could be preserved. \n\n\"My name is Jade, what's yours?\" She looked to him holding out the bowl of tomato soup. \"I suppose I should've started with that...\" She offered in an embarrassed tone"
},
{
"author": "Jasper Hewitt",
"message": "\"Yes, ma'am.\" Jasper nodded. \"I saw help was needed and thought it's high time I made myself useful around here.\" \n\nJasper stepped over the threshold almost sheepishly, a small part of him bracing for repercussion, a force from above or below to smite him for placing his footfall where it did not belong. The rules of the world seemed not to have their grasp on Briar Ridge after all. Or maybe Jasper was the one losing his touch with reality, coupled with his ever denied flair for being dramatic. For this question he did not seek straight answers.\n\n\"Food is a better payment than most else. Money can't buy a meal made from the heart, at least that's what they say.\" Jasper stood awkwardly in the kitchen, uncertainty lingering like the chill in his limbs before he willed it to dissipate. There was no need to pick this apart like a puzzle, to formulate the winning strategy. There was no winning, there was no losing. There was simply soup.\n\n\"I'm Jasper.\" He replied with a smile, gratefully accepting the bowl and its warmth against his frozen fingertips. \"A pleasure to make acquaintance.\""
}
] | 363.5 | 1,394 |
502.222222 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "mintbelle",
"message": "Just close your eyes, the sun is going down\nYou'll be alright, no one can hurt you now\nCome morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound"
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Akira spent most nights at Jades. After all, they were still in the honeymoon phase. Did they ever get such things in Briar Ridge? Akira made everything feel like a dream. She never yelled, she never threw things, even when Jade made mistakes. Akira showed her nothing but grace. She had never felt such things before, the ease in which it was to love the woman. Arthur was so angry, how did she end up with someone so gentle and the town had the nerve to view her as beastly. When really she was anything but. She rolled over to feel the absence of another body's warmth, and Akira was gone. Her groggy mind didn't have the appropriate reaction. Akira left, she had convinced herself and got out of bed, she didn't bother to throw on anything more than what she had been sleeping in. One of her lover's button up shirt's. She sauntered through the halls, checking the rooms. \n\nJackson was sleeping peacefully in his own room, no Akira, the kitchen, no Akira, finally she turned into the living room, stopping when she saw Akira curled up on the couch. \"Aki...? Honey?\" She leaned against the doorframe unsure if she should approach. She learned the hard way. She waited for Akira to answer and she would wait until Akira gave a sign that she wanted Jade closer, she stood there, waiting. She didn't realize how disheveled she may have looked, her hair messy from sleep and the shirt halfway down her shoulder from its size. Loose on both her and Aki. The moonlight painted across the both of them, the same moon that betrayed her lover one night out of the month.\n\nJade finally could not stand not being close enough. She went over to where Akira rested on the couch, Jade carefully sat on the other side, crossing her legs under her. \"Aki... What's wrong? Was the bed uncomfortable? Do you need another blanket?\" Did she do something...? Before she asked the bittersweet question, she wondered what she could've done wrong, did she burn dinner? Jackson and Aki didn't seem to hate it, did Jade snore and wake her up? Was she being too clingy in her sleep? Did she steal the covers? Akira had never been mad at her before and Jade in her irrational state of mind thought that this was the beginning. Jade had pushed too far, messed up too much, she was friendly to one too many strangers that day. \n\nShe searched Akira's body language, analyzing it. It was tense, she carefully extended her hand to touch the woman's wrist. Afraid of what may come of it. She knew how Arthur would've reacted. Never touch a sleeping man Jade. I could've done worse to you just then... He had a point, he had far too many demons that haunted him at night and she didn't need to be caught in the crossfire, even though she had been. None of the bruising ever lasted long. It wasn't that bad. \"Did... Did I do something...?\" She held her breath and waited."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Nightmares had become a frequent company ever since she had been turned, each one of them packed with Akira's many regrets. They were constant and scattered, filled with the imagery of snapping bones in her jaws, blood being spilled on the snow, silver bullets piercing her hide, the screams of people she knew... Jade's screams.\n\nSince January, Aki had sworn she'd rather eat her heart out than hurting another person again. Her promise remained truth, even at the extreme costs. Yet the fear remained, her hunger was as strong as the night terrors that plagued her, with no sight of her mother's spirits to console her.\n\nShe woke up in a cold sweat, a quiet gasp rumbled out of her throat. She found herself not in the Old Davis ruins, or being held at gunpoint by Alma, she was by Jade's side. Still, Akira turned to one side, with her hand shaking as it'd turn into a massive paw at any moment.\n\nOf course she wouldn't want to awake her lover, why would she have to be more of a burden to another person, after all? Did she have the right to scream in terror? Were these nightmares part of her punishment? Was she even worthy of shedding tears for her sins? Akira could be bleeding out, and she would try her damnest to have no one notice it. It happened time and time again, until someone close enough was unfortunate to find out. \n\nAkira needed a distraction, perhaps some water, or perhaps some distance to collect her thoughts. With the full moon looming closer each day, it became her second nature to shut down. Like a ghost, she paced to the living room with a glass in hand, she hadn't been able to drink the water in it. She simply sat down on the couch, with her mind somewhere else.\n\n\"Huh...?\"\n\nLittle did she know that Jade had noticed her absence. The woman stared at her lover like the beaten puppy that she was, almost as if she were to pull her ears backwards with her tail between her legs. Akira still had to get used to being loved, and it showed, not knowing how to respond to\n\nThe many questions that came on her way.\n\nThat was, until Jade asked if she had done something wrong, and her hand touched her wrist. Finally Akira reacted, she blinked once, twice even, her mouth opened for just a second.\n\n\"N-No..! No no no..\" She shook her head, her voice always quiet and gentle, while also being raw and broken in her attempt to remain strong. \"You didn't... You didn't do anything wrong..\" \n\nAki didn't move, she let Jade sit next to her if she wanted to, or hold her, or even hug her.\n\n\"Sorry for leaving I... I needed a drink..\" She said, noticing she hadn't been able to finish her water even. \n\n\"...I had a bad dream..\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade knew the weight of Akira's burdens, more so she knew the weight that Akira felt was extreme. She knew her lover's grief and she made it her own most days, she would not let Akira go through this alone. Even if it meant waking up at all hours of the night and sleepily holding her lover. Jade moved her hand from Akira's wrist and moved it to her face. \"My love, you are perfect but you are an awful liar\" She knew Akira did not need just water. She lazed back on the couch, motioning for Aki to lay down on her. She could rub her back and listen if that was what Aki needed her to do. \"Do you want to talk about it?\" Jade had spent mainly late nights soothing her baby brothers. \n\nThis was nothing new to her. She didn't mind she may have found herself enjoying it. She could hold them a little closer and nuzzle their chubby cheeks until the fear was no longer there and it was just contentment, comfort. She nudged Akira's leg with her own. \"Pretty girl, you don't have to hide from me... You are safe here\" She softly purred. Akira had cured her nightmares too, the way she collapsed in the woman's comfort in the hospital. They had seen the darkest parts of each other and still loved. That is something she held dear.\n\nJade acted as if she were a nymph luring a warrior into her grasp. Perhaps in another life that is exactly what happened between her and the woman. She liked this life better, even if they were hurting. They were human, they loved intensely, protected fiercely, and touched gently. All of those things would not come easy to them as nymphs and prey. Jade did not want to seem like she did not care about Akira being scared, she had learned a long time ago to react calmly, even if she hadn't done so at first. \n\n\"The good thing about dreams, sweet girl. They are not real, they are our minds playing cruel tricks on us. So cruel they startle us from our peaceful sleep and make us wonder if it will ever be real. But it won't. Well maybe not always, Sometimes I dream that we have found the cure and we live happily ever after. I hope that is real\" She tried to cheer Aki up."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Being told she was an awful liar made Akira's whole body almost turn into a paste as a sigh of defeat escape her, with Jade's hand in her scarred cheek still keeping her in reality. She could run away from many people, but she couldn't run away from Jade. Not that she'd complain about it, of course. She had simply been caught red handed, like a puppy who stole someone's lunch or bit their work shoes. \n\nHer lover softy moved to sit next to her and offered her comfort, Akira accepted with reluctance, almost as if laying next to her would be enough to snap the oldest of the Grant's in half. She was safe, that's that Jade said, but was she really? What if someone broke down the door with a shotgun in their hands? Would the coalition get tired of the search for the cure and separate her from Jade? What if hounds came from the backyard to feast on her flesh? What if the windows shattered as silver bullets flew towards her? What if-\n\n\"Hmmm... They felt very real to me... At least...\" She said, her voice quiet, in high alert. The woman made an attempt to remain proud and unaffected, but she was shaking. \n\n\"You know... I-I don't remember a thing of my time during the full moons... I only know if I've hurt someone if I ever wake up where I wasn't supposed to... Sometimes I get flashes though like ah-... The sound of a guns firing, people screaming... And they feel so real... So real just like when Alma came an-....\"\n\nAkira bit her tongue as she felt a lump on her throat and her eyes burning. She searched for Jade's comfort and safety into her chest. \n\nThe cure, the very thing that had given Akira new purpose, a way to redeem herself in the eyes of Briar Ridge for her inaction and fear of retaliation. Now, she did still see a possibility, she needed one more name to complete the puzzle, and then... To find a loophole around the sacrifice. They were so close she could feel it.\n\nBut, even if Akira were to be human again, would she feel like it? Would she be able to look at\n\nHer neighbors in the eye again? Would she be able to laugh and be with her friends like she used to?\n\nWould Akira Hirano ever be back? \n\nShe didn't know the answer to that, not when their accusatory eyes stared at her, holding back their vile and hate with the promise of a cure.\n\nThey had less than two months now.\n\nWith a shaky sigh, Akira looked for comfort further by burying her face into Jade's chest. The fact that this woman didn't immediately hate her guts after finding out she was a werewolf over a month ago was a miracle. Jade said part her knew, but even then, she couldn't explain the kindness and love coming from her and-\n\n\"...Ah... Sorry...\" \n\nWhen did tears start rolling down her cheeks? How embarrassing. \n\n\"I... I stained your shirt... Wait- that's mine..\" \n\nAkira made an attempt to hide her face, to not look at Jade in the eye as the abomination she had become, as if her tears were made of acid and it would melt her partner. \n\n\"Sorry...\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Akira could try to hide from Jade, but Jade would still find her. That's what their love was, right? Finding each other even in the lowest of lows. Akira found her in the snow, lower than she had ever been, and even though she had tried to go unnoticed, Aki still found her, and here under the moonlight, she found Akira. Jade had been through a lot in April, and in May, her body was still sore and hurt. Yet Akira's weight against her own brought a calmness to her, and she could only hope that it calmed Aki as well. Akira curled deeper into Jade, and she rested her head against her lover. \"I know, it all seems so real in the moment, but look around,\" She muttered. They were in the Grant cottage with mismatched dishes and random patterns of fabric that had been sewn together to make blankets—a perfectly misaligned home. Akira fit right along with it. Perfectly misaligned, her fingers fell into Aki's hair. \n\nShe giggled at hearing Akira say it was her shirt. \"Well, duh, I wasn't going to wander down here naked, and it was on the floor, so, finders keepers,\" She stuck her tongue out playfully as she wiped the corners of her lover's eyes. \"You don't have to be sorry for crying, darling.\" It happens, and sometimes people just need a good cry. You are no exception to that rule. Although I don't want you crying all the tears in your body just yet, you better save me some for the alter.\" Jade wanted nothing more than for Akira to look at her and see her. Jade was not mad; she didn't view her as an abomination. She was just Aki—her sweet, loving, cuddly Aki. She gently moved Akira's face to hers. \"Honey, look at me; you are safe... I won't let anything happen to you. Okay? I will bet my life on it.\"\n\nEven her wolf had subconsciously protected her—Aki, her pack. The loyalty she felt for others remained strong even when she was not herself. Jade's loyalty was lethal to herself and others. Ready to sacrifice herself at a moment's notice or ready to tear someone to shreds with a simple inkling that her loved ones had been wronged.\n\nJade, in the midst of surrounding Aki with every bit of warmth she had, started to hum. She had used this song to lull Jackson and Walter back to sleep many, many times. She would rub their small backs with her hand, just as she was doing to Aki right now, and in moments, they would be out. She wasn't so sure it would work for her lover, but what was the harm in trying?\n\n Does this ever get better, April?"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "It took Aki some time to meet her misty gaze with Jade's\n If only she could scream, howl to the world how much she's been hurting, how she never chose anything that has happened in the last year or so, her regrets and guilt. Yet her sobbing was as quiet as the night itself, with Briar Ridge's forest taking a deep sigh just as Aki took a shaky one herself, trying to follow Jade's voice.\n\nAki then managed to let out a little chuckle at her lover's comment about the altar, sparkling a memory.\n\nAkira remembered her first in years in America as if they happened yesterday. She was still a teenager, closer to becoming a woman as the questions about marriage bombarded her overnight, from both an ignorant and yet well meaning father, and acquitances the Hirano had been able to make in the West coast. She remembered visiting them for dinner, glancing over pictures of the one son of that family decorating their kitchen counter. The young man's mama said they were looking for a wife for him back in their Homeland. Akira couldn't help but tilt her head at the comment, perhaps in the middle of her innocence she had become aware. The same lady gave her a pat on the head to remind her to be a 'good wife to her future husband', a husband that would never be.\n\nMs Hirano didn't take long to react.\n\n_'She's too young! Aren't we free here? I'd personally let Aka-chan choose._'\n\nAki managed to chuckle at the memory, it was her own way to spit on what they expected from her, as her eyes finally looked up to meet with Jade's. She opened her mouth with the intention to say something else, but her lover began to hum a song until now unknown. \n\nWhatever Jade was singing, it began to sooth both her soul and body, making Aki think of honey again, the best way to describe her lover. She was safe, as mismatched as she was in this world with her. \n\nSure, Aki could gloss over the fact that Jade was only wearing her shirt to conceive her figure, that her legs began to tangle around each other (fo\n\nR now). She focused on the lullaby, closing eyes to follow the rhythm of Jade's heartbeat at the same time, making it even more calming, with every touch becoming more powerful than their own claws during the full moon. Even Akira's own voice tried to follow the song with her own humming. They were just two gentle voices singing by the moonlight, as if no beast lurked beneath their skin.\n\n\"Even as injured as you are...\" The woman whispered, afraid of interrupting the symphony. \"You still sing...\" \n\nA faint smile curled up on her lips, shifting a little to keep her partner warm. \n\n\"You truly are way strong than what you think... Love... Never forget that...\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade often used this song to comfort Jackson and Walter during many nights, and now she used it to soothe Aki's troubled mind. Nightmares were terrifying, and she had been experiencing them herself these days. Dealing with them herself wasn't new to her, though. She used to be afraid of everything. The world seemed dark, and it was even darker now. However, there was some light in her life—Akira, Jackson, and those who would never leave her side. She could manage as long as they were together.\n\nJade laughed. \"I know, I know, it's not the prettiest, but remember, I'm used to comforting babies, and they usually don't care as long as they're snuggled up and have some sort of skin-to-skin contact,\" She mused while soothing the woman's hair between her fingers. She was lost in her little world. \"I won't,\" She reassured Aki, although it may have been a lie. Jade was not as strong as she made herself out to be. She was broken down, much like her lover, but she was just used to carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.\n\nShe wanted to scream and cry. She wanted to give up, but she didn't. She had too many people depending on her. Hell, she had the whole town depending on her and this cure. \"Come on, let's go back up to bed. I'm sure it's much more comfortable than the couch,\" Jade said as she slowly got up from their place on the couch, the cold air hitting her skin, a chill running down her spine.\n\nShe held Akira's hand in her own, carefully guiding the woman up the steps. They both had been through so much, she was scared. She almost lost Akira in April and she couldn't do anything about it to protect her. She still had her chest ripped open. She looked back to Akira, she worried if they would both withstand all that was to come. They were already so beaten down."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Not the prettiest? Haven't you heard yourself?\" Akira chuckled in between her sniffles, Gods was she a mess, but so was Jade. \"I think you sound like an angel.\" \n\nTo carry the weight of the world, to cut her claws and pull her own teeth, to tug a leash on her neck, that was the life Aki had been living for almost a year, that was the state Jade had found her, hidden deep within her layers that only now had been peeled forcefully for Briar Ridge to see. Some were disgusted, others afraid, others were to afraid to meet their gaze with a 'witch' and a werewolf, a woman cursed twice.\n\nBut Jade never judged her, not even after accidentally burning her palm with her grandmother's silver ring. Aki felt her body lift up, walking in autopilot as her groggy gaze tried to make sense of the staircase, leaning into her shoulder just to get more warmth and avoid the cold air, like bullets that had her name carved on them. \n\n\"Yeah, let's go.\" She said. \"Again... Sorry for leaving you... It was not my intention to just... Do that.\" \n\nAkira could be many things, but she was not Arthur. That name alone being pronounced made her taste her own vile, someone unusual for her gentle nature, perhaps because she had to witness her lover suffer because of him. \n\nThe woman gentle flopped on the mattress, flat on her face with a small grunt. She lazily rolled on her side, and extended her arm, still covered in bandages, to invite Jade to join her. \n\n\"Tell me... What will you... Do this full moon?\" Aki asked, biting her lip.\"I just want to let you know that you can still come with us to the cave.\" \n\nWas it risky? Of course it was, Akira knew she was hungry, she could feel it in her stomach like a pit, a void that couldn't be satiated. She didn't know how her... Beast could react or interact, she had already been beaten by another pack member for the same thing.\n\nThe last thing Aki wanted to do, was to hurt Jade."
}
] | 598 | 4,520 |
382.875 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade had been doing a little better since the full moon, she still hadn't seen Arthur. She wasn't sure he entirely liked her presence at the moment but someone did. That someone Akira Hirano, found Jade soaked in blood, cowering in the snow, yet she didn't think twice about accepting Jade into her arms and her shared home with her father. The Hiranos, made her feel good. They felt like home, hell. The people of Briar Ridge were home to her, Dimitra, Akira, Arthur, and Charlie. All of them fit into the puzzle of her life somehow. They brought her happy feelings. She wished to keep them with her for as long as the moons would allow. Jade invited Akira over for dinner as a thank you and to show her appreciation. \n\nHowever one problem arose, Jade could make good southern cooking and desserts but oh my word, these Japanese desserts gave her a run for her money. She tried to read a book on them while she was at the library... Well not Japanese specifically. Briar Ridge didn't have such things like that. There was a cookbook from around the world. Practically falling apart and very hard to decipher and then finding the ingredients was a whole other beast. She tried to make Aki Wagashi. It failed miserably, turning into some sort of paste mixed with plants and sugar. She felt so flustered because Akira would be there any minute. At least she chose something easy for dinner. Duchess Potatoes, cream, potatoes, and two eggs. She could manage that. She did manage that.\n\nShe looked outside the window to see if Aki had made her way down the little path. Thankfully no sign of the woman yet. She had time to look less of a mess. She put the bowl of paste hidden away in the sink, quickly took her apron off, and tried to fix her hair, at least look somewhat decent. She quickly tried to straighten up. Throwing a blanket over the older couch, and fixing up the small table. She wanted to make sure her home was warm enough and the food was good enough. She wanted everything to be perfect."
},
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "Normal, what was normal in Briar Ridge anymore? Was it going out to the speakeasy, only to arrive tumbling by the door hoping her father wouldn't find out? Was it helping to clean out the blood and the destruction left by the beasts? Or was it able to finally be able to go grocery shopping? To heat up the water for a long bath, or a cup of tea?\n\nOr perhaps, normalcy was being able to hang out with a friend?\n\nAkira felt strange when Jade invited her. Not because of the intention, it was only natural that the woman wanted to thank her. \n\nBut, when was it the last time she was invited over to someone else's home? When the subject of the werewolves wasn't the main topic of conversation? \n\nAkira accepted. Of course she hesitated as she didn't want to leave her father alone, but Mako insisted.\n\nHe knew she needed a friend. \n\nAkira left her home worrying she was running late. She tried to walk as quickly as she could, inevitably, she'd almost trip over ice once or twice. \n\nBut after such al ordeal, she made it to the cottage. \n\nThere, Aki stood at the porch. She wasn't sure what to expect. Would Jade bring other friends over? What did she cook?... Would she be able to help with the food? \n\nThe woman took a deep breath and rubbed both hands together, now cold after the exposure to winter's relentless weather. \n\nAnd then she knocked on the wooden door, and waited, shaking a little as she pretended to be a chimney as she let out some hot air.\n\nWhen the door finally opened, her tiny hand lifted up.\n\n\"Hi~ \""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade unfortunately didn't have time to dispose of her failed dessert for Akira, she rushed to the door so as to not leave the woman out in the cold for too long. Winter was a more tolerable beast considered the other ones the town had put up with. Jade beamed seeing Akira on the other side of the door \"Aki! You made it\" She exclaimed happily before opening the door wide for her \"Come on in, lord this cold is no joke\" She laughed. Akira and Mako had been her comfort as of late. Akira made her feel like she wasn't all that bad. Even if she did mess up, Akira never held such things against her. She excitedly led Akira to the kitchen where the warmth was from the wood stove \"I made something that will warm you and Mr. Hirano right up.\" She left Akira briefly to flutter around her kitchen, grabbing a bowl and filling it \"How was the walk over here? I hope not too terrible?\" She questioned. She couldn't help but ramble on. The excitement got the best of her. \n\nShe had a friend over at her house for the first time, back home she couldn't have friends over cause of her mama and her daddy but now that it was just her. She started daydreaming about the sleepovers she could have, This was the experience she had missed out on in childhood. She finally settled down instead of bouncing off the walls. She was on cloud nine \"I am so excited that you are here, you have no idea how excited I've been, I tried to find the tea that you like but lord knows that stuff is so hard to get. I will find it one day though, come hell or high water\" She crinkled her nose affectionately. She floated over to Aki, taking her hands in her own, she looked down at the smaller woman. \n\nShe felt like the heavens above knew she needed a friend, maybe her grandmother saw she needed a friend that day in the Davis ruins and she sent Akira down that trail. \"I made you something, just wait here okay?\" She offered before she disappeared out of the kitchen again, what a whiplash Jade had given this poor woman,\n\nShe was bouncing off the walls but she came back as quickly as she left. \"I noticed I accidentally ruined your scarf, so I tried to make you a new one.\" She held out the burgundy knitted scarf to Akira \"I know it ain't the right color but hopefully it'll do the trick\" She didn't know that Akiras mother had given her the blue scarf."
},
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "\"I made it indeed!\" Aki smiled from ear to ear when she saw her friend again. Granted, their homes weren't far from each other, it simply took her a couple of days to realize it. \n\nJust like Jade, the smaller woman was just as excited to being able to visit someone for the first time in God knew when. Though she was quieter, she was giggling as she stretched her fingers by the stove, rubbing her palms together. \n\n\"Ah, pfft. Don't worry about the tea. Pa and I got used to-\" And then she her hands on the other woman's. Aki couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle. \n\n\"I-Okay? Haha...\" Was everything she was able to let out of her throat. She wasn't used to having someone this close and it showed, poor Akira didn't know where to look.\n\nAnd off Jade she went, like a magic trick happening right in front of her eyes. At least, that gave Aki a few moments to not think much of the physical contact, and appreciate the kitchen some more. Her curious eyes glanced over what the other woman had been preparing for dinner.\n\nJust as she was about to unveil the disaster that was Jade's recreation of a wagashi, she came back. Thankfully, Aki wasn't able to see it just yet. \n\nHer eyes immediately went right at the hand made scarf instead, her expression softened as one of her hands reached out to touch the fabric. \n\n\"...You made this...?\" The woman asked, even though Jade said she did, a huge smile curling on her lips. There was something melancholic in the way she looked at the scarf, nostalgic, bittersweet. \n\n\"It's so beautiful... A-and soft...!\" \n\nEven though it was a gift for her, Akira looked at Jade as if she was asking if it was _okay_ to accept it. In fact, she wondered if that was okay. \n\n\"That's so sweet of you.\" She said, not knowing how to return the same favor. Akira had no money to buy gifts, little to no time to make something as she had been so busy helping in the town after the full moon. \"I... Feel so silly for not bringing anything for you..!\" \n\nBut Aki knew she could give Jade a hug. So she did it. \n\n\"When my mom gave me my scarf, she said it'd be like a hug from her, so I know she'd always be with me..\" The woman decided to give away that part of her past, omitting her passing. \n\n\"It'll surely feel the same way when I wear yours, Jade. Thank you. \" \n\nAkira then broke the hug and cleared her throat to not make things awkward between them, yet her smile was impossible to wipe away from her face at that moment.\n\n\"Now let me help you set the table! Mkay?\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade's excitement only grew as Akira hugged her, Jade hugged her back tight. \"Well the scarf is a hug and a thanks from me, well maybe also an apology. I got blood and dirt on yours... And I know I can't replace it. I just...\" She trailed off. She had been a bit frazzled lately. It seemed like she was messing up every time she turned around. She laughed a bit \"My grandmother would be scolding me from her grave if she could by letting you set the table\" She followed Aki back to the kitchen as she took the pot from the woodstove \"I hope you like it, I tried my best\" She truly did put in a great deal of effort. \n\n\"So I made a ton for you and your father to have left overs and keep warm. It's just me here so I don't need to keep too much.\" She mused before scooping some into a bowl, she watched as the steam left the pot as she removed the lid. \"So, Aki, do you have any hobbies?\" She felt a little silly asking about hobbies and all. Small talk after what Jade had revealed. She cried in Akiras lap about Arthur and anything else that had been heavy on her heart. She felt bad, how come she could never be as strong for anyone else? No one cried on her shoulder. She was supposed to be strong, she had promised her little brothers after all."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Blood and dirt weren't a huge deal to clean off, Akira still could wear her mother's scarf, and now she had a gift from a new friend! For her, it was a win-win. \n\nJade's excitement was contagious, so much so that Akira had to follow the other woman's instructions to not help her set the table. Alas, it was understandable since she was a guest, she'd do the same thing in her place! \n\n\"Aright aright, let's not get your granma angry then.\" She giggled, letting the owner of this tiny home do her thing. \n\n\"And here I was wondering why you'd made so much! I'm sure my pa would love it~\" \n\nThe fact that Jade even thought of her father for the meal melted Aki's heart. She wanted to help so badly, but for Jade's granma's memory she had to stay still against the kitchen counter. \n\nEven then, Akira was able to distract herself by looking around the kitchen some more, even to the point of catching something particular and familiar with the corner of her eye. A certain dish she hadn't been able to have ever since she left Japan. \n\n\"Oh?\" But before she could take a closer look at the mysterious dish, Jade spoke again.\n\n\"Well, I like drinkin' tea and reading a good book.\" Akira said as she put her undivided attention to the other woman, feeling her mouth water at the sight of their meal. God, it smelled like _heaven_. \n\n\"I also like to go fishing and going on walks by the river.\" \n\nThough the latter had been difficult to do, given the many injuries she sustained during the attacks. Poor Aki couldn't take a break during the fall and beginning of winter, and now her body was paying the consequences of working while still being injured. \n\n\"What about you? It seems like you're pretty good at many things!\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade let out a delighted giggle before shaking her head \"That's the last thing I need, granny mad was the scariest thing I've ever seen but of course, I'd make extra! Y'all were so kind to me after the full moon. This is only half of my appreciation. I wish I could do more\" She looked at Akira with a soft gaze. She had seen Jade at her lowest and still treated her with such kindness. The full moon, her brutal break up. Akira had been there and unwavering. She listened as the woman talked about hobbies. She thought of her own before glancing over at Akira. \"Well, I had to pick up a lot of things, my mama and daddy... They didn't do too much so, someone had to take care of my brothers and the house. My grandma taught me to sew when I wanted this pretty dress for school at a store but obviously, we couldn't afford it. We took some old linens and made magic.\" She mused, she set Akiras bowl down first along with something to drink.\n\n\"And well, you and I have reading in common. I run the library and I've been tryna' fix things up there but it'll take some muscle.\" She said playfully poking Akira in the arm, now there wasn't anything wrong with women having muscle. Jade thought it was pretty badass. Not having to rely on anybody. She made her bowl and sat next to Akira with her lemonade. Before she leaned in nudging Aki. \"I may have to sweet talk you into helping me when you're all healed up.\" She jokingly swooned and batted her eyelashes \"Those shelves are just too much for me to handle\" She purred. \"No, but, you better not even think about brute work until you're healed, I swear it Akira Hirano.\" She scolded but not really. This is what she did, worried over her loved ones. She had successfully kept Akira away from the failed dessert, instead Jade had time to make another one. \"I have something sweet for us later too. So, don't fill up too much, else you'll have a lot to take home with ya.\" She winked. \n\nJade's kitchen table was small, something for maybe two people and a child but it was just her now. That hit her hard. It was just her, Arthur wouldn't be there eating dinner with her again. She felt her throat close up but she glanced at Akira and tryin to settle. Broken up with didn't mean alone. She wasn't alone. Not so long as Aki wanted her to be around. Which she hoped would be for a long while."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Needing help with the library?\" Akira whispered to herself as Jade spoke. She was so ready to offer her a hand, she knew she could do it! Aki had been doing plenty o' heavy lifting since she was a young teenager in the farms, still trying to navigate this strange country with a thick accent and no friends. \n\nBut Jade had to point the fact that she was still recovering from her own injuries and her sickness, making the woman puff her cheeks as they turned red. \n\n\"You startin' to sound like my pa.\"\n\nAnd like the doctor, and the nurses, and Mitica. Aki could only make people worry about her, and she couldn't help her guilt rearing its ugly head every once in a while. \n\nShe managed pushed those thoughts awayfor now. It wasn't time to cry over her sorrows when she had so much food on the table made for her and her father! \n\n\"You didn't have to put this much effort for me... You even made dessert!\" Akira chuckled, tapping the table as she tried to think _where_ to start. American food was something she had to get used to even to this day, Southern dishes were so different ...And they were just as addictive. \n\n\"Ahh, but this smells so good!\" She smiled like a lil kid on Christmas. After finally making a decision, she started with the potatoes, picking up a couple with a fork and placing them neatly over her plate, there wasn't anything that could wipe out that little grin of hers. \n\nAkira then took a big, generous bite, and her eyes lit up. No language in the world could describe the explosion of flavors she was experiencing. She wiggled on her seat, she hid her face while chewing and giggling, she was in paradise and hoped this could make Jade realize how good she was."
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "\"Well, someone's gotta keep you in check Aki~\" She gently purred. She and Akira hadn't been friends for long but she already knew how Aki was. She worked herself too much and didn't take a break even when her body needed it. Jade playfully rolled her eyes at Akiras comment that she had done far too much. To Jade, it was far too little. A meal, dessert, and a scarf didn't even amount to the appreciation and affection she felt for her and of course her father. Both had taken her in at such a volatile time and showed her nothing but kindness. \n\nJade watched as Aki settled into filling up her plate and eating. She was almost nervous that it wasn't as good as usual, she found that her cooking was better when she was happiest. She was content now, Akira made those hateful thoughts vanish for the time being. She laughed a bit watching her, the animation of the woman beside her did bring her joy. \"I'm glad you like it. I hope your father likes it too.\" She sat back in her chair, she hadn't had much of an appetite lately but that was to be expected. She felt her stomach churn at the thought of it. She felt sick for days now but she knew it was just pain. Arthur wasn't coming back, he had left her like she was dead and gone. She was a ghost to him in the moments of packing up the courier and his car. She knew things would get better, they had to. They always got better in the books, the heroin left for dead and feeling lost. That is when she finds true love, someone who treats her nicely. Those were fairytales and this was Briar Ridge, werewolves preyed on the town, and friends were mangled, nothing was ever as it seemed. \n\nPerhaps Arthur wasn't as he seemed either. She knew he was a bad man, a criminal, he hurt people, he killed people, he ran shine and other drugs... She just never thought that he would turn on her. Didn't he love her? If he did then why would he leave without so much as a goodbye? Why wouldn't he tell her where he was going, why he was leaving? They had pla\n\nNs for the future dammit! This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to finally be happy. Happy... What made her happy now? The family she had found in Briar Ridge, Akira, Mako, Jackson, baking. She opened her eyes glancing over Akira... She just had to know. \"Akira do you think... I'm bad?\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Oh, he will love it. He's got a soft spot for homemade stuff!\" Akira said, trying her best to keep her manners and not talk with a mouthful. She had to keep herself together, she couldn't just swallow those eggs and potatoes whole like an animal, could she?\n\nBut the more Aki kept eating, the more she noticed the silence between her and Jade. Her eyes glanced over the other woman's plate, wondering if she even touched her own food. She then looked up in an attempt to read Jade's expression, chewing slowly just in case her friend spoke and she had to pay attention.\n\nAnd so Jade did speak, and even then, Akira wasn't expecting a question like that.\n\n\"Eh..?\" She tilted her head, chewing some more, just to make sure she could speak clearly without her slight foreign accent and food getting in the way. \n\n\"I think you're one of the kindest people I've known. Nay, you're not a bad person...\" \n\nHer gut feeling was telling her that those sudden intrusive thoughts were related to Arthur. After all, poor Jade was abandoned without a word.\n\n Akira made an attempt to hide the fact that the whole situation left a bitter taste in her mouth, but her eyes betrayed her as she frowned while going back to her food. \n\n\"Arthur... He wasn't a good man.\" She added. \"None of that was your fault.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade appreciated that Akira seemed excited and appreciative of her cooking, as it made her feel good to provide for others. However, she couldn't shake off the cloud that had been hanging over her lately. Despite this, Akira seemed to understand what was bothering her without her having to say it out loud. Jade knew it was about Arthur, and although it should have been obvious, she wasn't used to being listened to or noticed. She was accustomed to rushed conversations and people running out the door on their way to do something else. But Akira was different. She was sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying the food, and giving Jade reassurance.\n\nJade expressed her gratitude to Akira, even if she found it hard to believe her. Akira's tender-hearted nature gave her a sense of warmth and safety that she hadn't experienced until now. Although she had felt a warm feeling and sense of community from everyone she had met, Akira's presence felt different. Jade didn't question it and just allowed herself to enjoy it. She silently hoped that this feeling would not be taken away from her. \n\n\"You didn't like Arthur very much, did you?\" \n\nShe teased Akira, asking if she ever really cared for Arthur, noticing the expression on her face when she mentioned him, which was not something she saw often."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "With a mouthful, Akira stared back at Jade, slowly chewing on her food as if she was trying to process the question she just heard. \n\n\"Hmmm...\" The woman hummed before swallowing, doing her best to find the right words to describe... How she felt about the man. \n\n\"I've heard things about him, many things.\" She said. \" Not just from you, but people in town. Man was just bad news, and when you told me about your fights with him..\"\n\nAkira then paused for a moment, her frown returned as she reminisced the way poor Jade cried on her shoulder after Arthur left. Like a fire going from the bottom of her stomach to the top her head, she could feel anger building up. Raw, primal anger. \n\n\"... I didn't know what to do, but I really wanted to tell you to stop seeing him all together.\" She then admitted with a sigh. \" But I'm not that kind of friend, I hate telling other people what to do with their lives... And you really loved him and wanted things to work out.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade shifted in her seat to face Akira, her arms lying on the back of the chair as Jade laid her head against them, gazing at the woman in front of her as she explained herself. Jade did love Arthur, she was ready to do anything she could to make them work but... She began to see too much of her father in him. She thought the violence would never bleed into their relationship when it had the whole time. Akira took the backseat because Jade was happy. She wouldn't have listened back then even if people did try to tell her. It was best to learn on her own. \n\n\"You're right... Whose to say I would've even listened had you intervened.\" \n\nAkira had slowly integrated herself into Jade's world. Jade got attached easily but Akira didn't make getting attached so scary. Jade wasn't scared to look her in the eyes, never fearing of seeing disappointment or anger. Each time she had met Akira's deep and warm pools of dark brown, she did not shy away from Akira in the slightest. Akira had already seen her at her worst and offered compassion, whereas Arthur offered anger. She didn't know if she would ever tell Aki just how much it meant to her to be held together when her world seemingly crumbled to pieces."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"It's not just a matter of you listening ...\" Aki put both hands over the table to rest her chin on, giving her a more comfortable position to think. She made eye contact with Jade for a moment, making her expression soften with a chuckle. \n\n\"Call it selfish, but I didn't wanna be like the kind of friend who controlled your every move , but I also felt this need to... Want to protect you, ya get me?\" \n\nThe woman then took a good sip of water, completely oblivious of the way Jade saw her at that moment. But even if Aki wasn't, she wouldn't be able accept those kinds words. The full moon in January marked her, it made her feel guilty and unworthy of anything. While Jade saw in her a person who brought the best of her, someone who picked up from a bad place and, Akira saw in herself someone unhinged, undeserving, sinful. \n\nAkira was more than open to offer a shoulder to cry on, a hug for support, gentle and encouraging words, but she was a woman of contrasts. She couldn't accept that kind of affection back. \n\n\" Part of me wonders if I should've said or done something, though... I'm sorry, Jade.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade continued to lay her head on the back of the chair, watching Aki as she spoke of the need to protect her. That made warmth rush through her body and to her cheeks. Akira wanted to protect her? She wanted to protect Akira even if she knew the darkness of Briar Ridge already, she didn't want it to touch Aki. She would be damned if it touched Aki or Mako for that matter. \"Don't you go apologizing for something you had nothing to do with.\" She scolded with a playful grin \n\n\"You don't owe me a dang thing, certainly not an apology.\" She didn't want to let on how she was really feeling, lost and leaning into the comfort of Akira. Things would be okay so long as they were together, right? \n\nWas it normal to feel this intensely for a friend? The want to protect, the want to be around them all the time. She certainly didn't feel the same things she did with Arthur... This was different and she couldn't pinpoint why. \n\nShe didn't want the full moon nights to tear them apart. These wolves... They were people, people she had known, hell even talked to. There had to be something that could be done to put an end to the madness. \n\nYet, if it weren't for the wolves... Akira wouldn't be sitting in her kitchen right now. \n\n\"I'm glad you were walking the trail that day.\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Asking Akira to stop apologizing for everything felt as if she was being asked to stop breathing. The best way to not do was simply to stay silent, and that's what Aki did.\n\nShe paid close attention to Jade's words, the way her lips moved, how her voiced flowed, her left hand even traced one end of her new handmade scarf.\n\nWhile her friend was met with these new unknown emotions, Akira was hit with the realization of her own. The more she felt the textures on her gift, the more she lingered in Jade's eyes. Here they were, eating dinner together, as if it was meant to be.\n\nThis was dangerous. \n\nAkira was quick to return to her food, trying to shove whatever emotions she felt in the back of her mind, forgotten and denied. \n\n_'I'm glad you were walking the trail that day._' Jade said, and Akira's heart skipped a beat again, almost making her drop her bite.\n\nThis was not the time to feel the butterflies in her stomach, especially as the other woman still grieved losing the *Man* She loved. In Aki's eyes, there was no way she'd feel that way for another woman.\n\nAkira was no man, she'd never be as good as one. She'd *Ruin* Jade's life.\n\nBy the end of the day, Aki would need the company of a good old jar of shine. She could forget, it always worked, she always moved on. \n\n\"Thank you.\" Akira managed to smile, having enough courage to look at her back in the eye. \"I'm glad we met, too.\"\n\n_'But, please stop being so kind to me._' , she thought to herself, cursing her heart for being the way it was. \n\n_'It's going to hurt us both._' \n\n\n``` You wanting me tonight feels impossible\nBut it's comin' down, no sound, it's all around\nLike snow on the beach```"
}
] | 365.5 | 6,126 |
276.75 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "\"How dare you. Accusing me of seeing you as a chore?! Accusing me of being in likes with Kazmir as if I haven't tried to be with you. I have tried!\" \n\nHonestly, she was truly hurt. Arthur and her went from being utterly smitten with each other to now being at each others throat. She hated it, she felt the venom in her throat welling up. \n\nArthur was never a chore to her, she wouldn't have offered to bring him to her house while he healed, he wouldn't have tried to help him, she didn't even know who he was now, was this really the man she had met when she first got here? She understood being upset about his injury and she accepted she was at fault but she's tried to apologize, she's tried to make up for it. \n\nNow her neighbors would hear their bickering instead of the speakeasy. Great."
},
{
"author": "Arty Maldorano",
"message": "\"How dare I?? How dare you! The first time you met him you and all the other women were all gathered around him like he was the only *God damn* Man in town!\"\n\nArty is yelling and it's intimidating, sure, but he feels a lot less scary with use of only one pointer finger. It feels less and less like he's getting his point across. Another punishment for weakness, he supposes.\n\n\"And let's not forget how we got into all this int he first place! I was about to kick that Charlie kids ass *Like I still ought to* And you stepped in with your sweet words and your battering lashes. I was a chore to overcome!\" Arty rambled. \"Some big angry idiot you had to stop from tearing apart that asshole that only proved *Again* That they deserved being torn apart!\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade shook her head, she didn't know how he could accuse her of such things. Did he not see her feelings for him? How could he not? Was all of this just a waste \n\n\"I went for a drink Arthur! I was polite to him, that doesn't equate to being attracted to him! And serving him? I was doing that for everyone.\" \n\nThen he brought up Charlie, the instance that scared her the most. She just stared at him, the tears coming again. She hated that she was so weak, she hated to be in conflict. There had been so much of it lately \n\n\"Arthur I was trying to stop you from doing something you regret! Do you really think I want to see you in jail? Hasn't this town seen enough violence?! God dammit stop calling yourself a chore- I knew what I was getting into, I didn't see some big bad wolf that you make yourself out to be but I can't make you believe that, I've tried everything I know to do. I've given you space, I've tried to support you, I've tried to validate your feelings all the while you have been lashing out at me! I'm sorry I fucking missed the shot and you got hurt, okay?! I'm sorry that it wasn't me instead, god knows you wish it was me and not you.\""
},
{
"author": "Arty Maldorano",
"message": "\"You think I hate violence? You think I *Dislike* Hurting people??\" Arty asked in a raised but slightly less scream-worthy-loud volume. \"This romanticised version you have of me is a saint, but I ain't that! I *Want* To do those things, and I damn well should have!\"\n\nArty pauses. He huffs, and turns to stare at the streat instead of her. It's easier to talk when he isn't looking someone in the eye. It's easier to best someone with fists, not words... Words have always been hard for Arthur Maldorano.\n\n\"And the nerd is __right__! What the fuck even is in that drink you all just take so easily from that fucking guy?\"\n\nHe's rambling at this point... But there's some anxiety in his voice that wasn't there before. With every word he's less and less heated. Less loud.\n\n\"It's not your fault for not shooting the thing, and stop saying it is. That's a dumbass thing to think, with the kind of woman you are. If you had of been in my place it still would have gone for *Me* Because...\" A pause. Arthur huffs hard through his nose. \"It doesn't matter. Point is you're too nice to bad fucking men. Like me. Like Kazmir. I just *Know* He's bad news, okay? I'm bad news. I know my own kind.\""
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "\"I haven't romanticized a damn thing, Arthur!\" She raised her voice back, no more cowering like a little girl. \"I don't give a damn what you want to do, but I know a lot more than you think. Just because I don't say anything doesn't mean I am naive. I've scrubbed the damn blood out of your clothes and I know it wasn't yours!\" \n\nJades gaze didn't waver from her love, even if she was pissed beyond recognition at him. She would not look away. \"What the hell is up with you, Kazmir hasn't uttered two words in your direction and you hate him? Why? Are you jealous?\" She was too nice? \"Has it ever occurred to you that NO ONE in my entire life before now has ever been nice to me? I am TIRED of being hateful, I am TIRED of being kicked down\" She ran her hands through her hair trying to calm down, she hated conflict. \n\n\"Arthur, I can't make you believe a damn thing I say, but if you can't see the way I look at you, or the things I go out of my way to do for you, or the fact that I love you, the REAL you and not some made up version, then you are blind.\""
},
{
"author": "Arty Maldorano",
"message": "Arthur is still facing away from her. He listens to her words and lets them sink in, lets them *Really* Sink in. He is a jealous man. He's jealous and overprotective and hateful. It's just a part of him, one that he can't shake no matter how pathetic it makes him feel when heated moments cool.\n\nHe's tired of it, but at the same time he likes being strong. He likes being the person that people can depend on. Other men may fold, but *Arthur Maldorano gets the job done*. He'd dependable.\n\nDependable until he isn't, that is.\n\nBecause right now, as he listens to Jade let slip that she loves him, he realises that right now he isn't being that man. He's so scared of weakness and being pathetic that he has put himself into a cage. Rolled himself into a ball and whimpered as if that beast had shoved him in.\n\nBut it hadn't.\n\nArty had locked himself in this cage, and he was lashing out at anyone who came too close. The pain killers and alcohol still clouded his mind, but something else lifted and gave him a little clarity.\n\nFor a moment all was still. The silence that ensued was broken only by his heavy sigh.\n\n\"Then we're both fools.\" Arty says, head turning so he can look at her. His eyelids are drooped, and his speech slower. Arty smiles as he turns around, sniffles, and then reaches out. He cups her cheek with his good hand. \"Just two fools that love each other.\"\n\nArty leans in and presses their foreheads together.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" He whispers. Arty closes his eyes to make it easier. He hasn't apologised since he moved out of home. \"I *Am* Blind. I *Was*. I just... I can't get the beast out of my head, and it made me feel like I couldn't be the man that protects you and provides for you. I... I want to do that for you because I... Love you too.\"\n\nArthur opens his eyes and looks at her. Into her eyes.\n\nHis head is swimming.\n\n*'It's funny,'* He thinks, *'how long we have gone in peaceful domestic bliss without a single intimate touch.'* Arty decides to change that. He leans in some more, and presses their lips together as his eyes once again close."
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "The realization had struck her that she said she loved him... It wasn't a lie, but this opened up the possibility of rejection. How could she run from the domestic life back home only to fall into it with Arthur Maldorano.. A criminal, she loved a criminal. That was so odd to her. She let out a slow breath, trying to calm down. \n\nThe whole world seemed to slow down, what had she done? Was this the final crack in the mirror that would shatter their reflections entirely. He would see her as baggage. Men in his type of business, they didn't have time for love. That was the only idea she had romanticized. \n\nYet as he spoke up, they were both fools... Jade felt his head press against hers, her hand snaking up to hold his wrist, she leaned into his touch. Something she had missed, there was the Arthur she recognized. The faint smell of his brand cigarettes and cologne. \n\n\"I'm sorry too..\" She wished that she could've been a better help. She didn't know what he was thinking, she couldn't help him if he didn't talk. Finally, the conversation they needed to have. \"Arthur... I can't imagine what it was like for you... Believe me I wish I had done more than just scare it off... But you getting attacked has nothing to do with what kind of man you are\" It was her turn to hold his face now, gently cupping his face \"I want to protect you too... And provide as well... It doesn't all fall on you. There's two of us for a reason. Honey, I can't help you if you don't let me in, I don't view you as weak because you are feeling scared or angry that something happened.\" \n\nThen he said it, he loved her too. She felt the heat rush to her cheeks, Arthur didn't make love seem so bad, maybe a little bit of work on occasion. \n\nJade leaned into their small moment of bliss, the calm after the storm, the part where the furniture is picked up, picture frames are put back on the walls, the home being restored to its comfort. Arthur Maldorano was home to her.\n\nShe closed her eyes, taking just a little longer to process that things were gonna be okay. They were gonna be okay but she felt his lips against her \n\nShe was puzzled at first, however she leaned into it with ease. Their shared kiss."
},
{
"author": "mintbelle",
"message": "``Interaction Closed``"
}
] | 273 | 2,214 |
659 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "_April 27th, 1929._\n\n_Can you see my frozen dream?_\n_My frozen dream can never be_\n_It is a paradox, you see_\n_Such a frozen dream?_\n_Such a frozen dream can never be_\n_Waited for a century, it's only gotten worse_\n_People want to stop me when I try to lift the curse_"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Akira Hirano. If you were to ask who she was, many people would say she was a kind and quiet soul.\n\n She was a soft spoken immigrant with a strange charm, a hardworking farmer whose body had been broken again and again, a caretaker, a provider, a woman in men's clothes. More importantly, Akira Hirano was a survivor...\n\n\n...And a werewolf.\n\n\n Indeed, Akira was one of the beasts that had been terrorizing Briar Ridge for almost a year. \n\n More than that, her existence was paradoxical, wrapped in a thousand layers. What would it take for her to peel each and one of them at once?\n\nIsolation was Akira's only weapon, for the last thing she ever wanted to do was to commit more sins to carry on her weary back. Even as she saw herself as an ugly, wretched thing, her spirit remained the same. One thing was true, she loved Briar Ridge, she loved her neighbors so much she'd do anything to fix everything. This was her burden to carry, her path to redemption.\n\nWas it too late, however? Only time would tell. Akira Hirano, a woman who became a stranger even to herself, could only do so much. She was still vulnerable, to the point where she had to sit and rest to recover from whatever horrors her body sustained during the full moon. Her injuries, the phantom pains from her missing limb, were the things that made her feel still human. \n\n\n\"Papa... You need some rest...\" Said Akira, even though it hadn't even been close to sunset. In truth, the Hirano residence hadn't been able to catch a single full night's rest for a long, long time.\n\n\nMako knew all of Akira's layers of course, but even then he still loved her to the bitter end. How could he not? This was his daughter, his own blood and only family. Not many people would understand him, it seemed. \n\nMako, a child of the Boshin War, knew by his life experience that they only had so much time in their hands. His paranoid and restless gaze met with his daughter. \"N-No, I can't leave you alone, you know that.\"\n\n\n\n\"But look at you.\"\n\nAkira chuckled, leading him to his room. Her voice was quieter than ever, despite the two of them being the only people in town who could understand each other. \"You're going to get sick again. Take a nap, MIta and I will take care of dinner once he's here.\" \n\n\"Alright, then._\" Mako said, finding himself being tucked in many blankets. \n\nA break from their constant state of alert before their visitor arrived was tempting. Mako only needed twenty minutes to close his eyes to be as good as new, he only hoped it could take some weight off Akira's shoulders.\n\nFor a moment, the Hirano residence could catch its breath as Aki sighed in relief, stumbling her way to the small cabinet they had in their living room to retrieve their Iron cast tea kettle to brew some tea."
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Everything was ready. Alma wasn't one to simply rush into something. The bullets had been carefully counted. The silver one that typically hung round her neck had been pulled from its place and loaded into the chamber. Its placement meant it'd be the first one shot. And ideally, the last one. The other five were simply precautions. A hunting knife was tucked into her boot in case she ran out of bullets. Her hair was braided up and out of her face to keep her movements free. \n\nNo, Alma Marie Cooper never ever rushed into something. \n\nAlma slept on it. At least, as best as she knew how to sleep on something. Nightmares and terrors were constant companions when Alma let herself sleep for more than a few hours. The taste of a half-formed scream and the crunch of bone always won. She slept when she could: at her desk in the schoolhouse, on Rhett's sofa, in a patch of grass beneath an oak now that the weather was warming up. Anything to help her stay functioning. To help her fight. \n\nBriar Ridge needed her to fight. \n\nBriar Ridge needed her to be logical. But how could she possibly be logical when one of her longest companions had lied to her for months on end? How could she possibly be logical when that same companion was putting Rhett's life in danger? When an entire month had past, yet there was still neither hide nor hair of a cure? When there were two newborn babes afflicted with this curse and no one seemed to be in a rush to set it right?\n_ _\n\nAlma decided it was time to make sure her 'friend' meant business. Shady would no doubt be disappointed in her actions, but she didn't give a rat's ass about Shady's opinion right about then. Dog knew the look that Alma got in her eyes when a hunt was on. He'd been trekking through the woods with his master and that Sterling man enough to know what the smell of oil and gunpowder meant. \n\nThe path to the Hirano's house was a familiar one. Back when her papa was still alive, it was one she would oftentimes make with her arms weighed down by gallons of shine or fresh baked pies. Her hands were empty this time, her weapons tucked out of sight. It was only her and Dog. Her mother wasn't quietly wondering at their garden. Her father wasn't wonderin' aloud where he and Mako would go fishin' next. No, it was just the quiet crunch of well-trod dirt beneath Alma's boots. \n\nWhen she got to the porch, she knocked. There were rules and regulations to be followed, after all. The last thing she wanted to do was point at gun at sweet old Mako. If anything, she prayed he wasn't home. She prayed she wasn't about to have him witness one of the second worst sins she'd ever commit, but she'd be just fine with shoulderin' that load if it meant that fucking cure was finally worked on. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "With the Nambu Tekki fetched from the cabinets, Akira was ready to set everything up for her guest and her father on a tray. Her small frame slowly put everything on a tray with such care it'd be hard to guest it was a beast doing it.\nShe didn't think of much when she heard the knock on the door. \n\nHer guard was let down, and that was her first and, to many, possibly last mistake. \n\nAkira's clumsy steps and laboured breath could be heard from the porch, a sign that she was coming.\n\nShe opened the door, and soon her face went as pale as a sheet, her blood running cold. \n\n\"...Ar... Alma...\" Akira let out, her tongue twisting. If the coalition leader hadn't pulled her weapons already, Aki could had sworn she had already been shot and left for dead.\n\nThere she was in front of Alma Cooper. Akira Hirano, a monster, a deceiver. A murderer and a traitor.\n\nAnd yet, for someone so dangerous, Aki couldn't be more meek. She looked down. No, more than that, she kept her head low for a good moment. She was... Bowing to Cooper, all while her whole body shaked. \n\n*Thanks Rooster, I'll see you in hell.*\n\nBoth women knew what they came for, she wasn't going to be playing the same game anymore at least. \n\n\"I know why you came here.\" Akira said, defeated. She raised her body back up, taking a deep breath as if she were to greet death soon.\n\n\"Do you want to talk... Or...?\""
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "The second Akira's shock of reddish-brown hair was seen through the crack in the door, the hunt was on. Dog lunged and Alma shoved herself right in the way, taking Aki with her. The bloodhound *Hated* The stench of the beasts. He had ever since the creature Alma Cooper now knew to be April Baker had busted through her childhood bedroom window and pinned Aki to the floor. Alma shut the door before he could get a taste. The dog stood at the door, barking and braying with all the ferocity and hate his 80 pounds could muster. \n\nThe message was clear: if Aki ran, Dog would chase. If Aki escaped Alma's wrath, he would finish it. \n\nThe sudden shoving and door slamming would have interrupted Aki from completing her bow. Alma hadn't been gentle. Nor was she gentle when she grabbed up a fistful of Aki's hair and pressed the barrel of her pistol against her chin. Akira was strong. Even with one arm, Alma knew she wasn't a match for her muscles. This was the only smart move she had. She wasn't going to risk missing her mark.\n\n\"Yeah, Aki, I wanna talk,\" Alma's voice came out cold and calm. The kind of calm that comes when earth goes quiet as it braces itself through a storm. \"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end it all right here. And you best make sure it's the god damn truth, 'cause you done nothin' but lie to me for *Months*.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "It seemed like Akira didn't even have the right to utter a single word. Before she knew what happened, all she could feel was pain and pressure. \n\nShe screamed. One might expect the guttural sounds of a beast, the howling screech the townsfolk had become so familiar with when silver bullets pierced werewolf flesh. Music to many people's ears.\n\nBut it was Aki's raw voice echoed in the living room, so fragile and human...\n\nIf Alma hadn't planned this so well, it could have been impossible to tell that Aki made an attempt to fight back, if it weren't for the fact that her body was already broken to begin with. Her leg made an uncomfortable crunching sound as she tripped, handled like a sack of potatoes. In midst of the struggle, her plain shirt began to stain in crimson, those were the sign of wounds reopening.\n\nAkira never had a chance in such state. There she was, broken and stripped of her humanity, trying to stay quiet as if she didn't even have the right to ask for help.\n\nThis must had been the desperation her victims felt. Hadn't it?\n\nAkira tried to speak, to explain herself just like Alma had requested. But she choked when one of her own ribs threatened to stab her if Alma were to keep pushing.\n\nBut, as much as she wished her death could go unnoticed, Akira wasn't alone. \n\n\"Get. Your. Filthy. Hands. Off. My. Daughter\"\n\nMako Hirano, child of the Boshin War, now a soldier forged past his prime time, came out of his room armed.\n\nHe aimed his gun right at Alma.\n\n_\"STOP!\"_ Akira screamed in no other than her mother language before going on a coughing fit. _\"DON'T... LOOK!_\""
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "The sound of Aki's screams echoed in Alma's ears. She was accustomed to screams, though. Screams of children. Screams of the other coalition members. Screams of her own name desperate on Rhett's lips as a wolf tore into her flesh. Whatever empathy that still coursed through Alma's veins was icy and dormant in the wake of the job at hand. There was a task to do. Alma would complete it. \n\nShe moved with Aki as she fell, keeping the one hand in her hair and the other maintained the gun to her chin. Otherwise, she didn't touch her. She could move. She could breathe. She could speak. Alma was perfectly fine with waiting for Aki to regain her senses when she heard Mako's familiar voice from the living room doorway. She looked up, the ice fading from her expression. Her features softened into something stern but patient, much like she would handle a particularly rowdy student. \n\n\"I'm awful sorry, Mr. Hirano. I had hoped to explain myself after Akira here was apprehended. Your daughter is a werewolf. Ain't'cha?\" The tip of Alma's pistol dug in a bit deeper, its metal cool and hungry. \n\nAlma didn't understand what Akira screamed, but she did tug on her hair a little tighter to snap her out of it. \n\n\"Now, Aki. I done asked you: why shouldn't I end it all right here? Shady seems to think you're workin' on a cure. You've had a whole month, yet you ain't got shit to show me for it, do ya?\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Yes. Yes, she is.\" Mako said, gun still held high and aimed at Alma. The old man couldn't comprehend how a woman as sweet as the youngest of the Cooper could stand there, her eyes as cold as ice close to end Akira's life like she was some sort of animal to be put down. \"But she's more than that...\"\n\nThe gun dug deeper into Aki's chin, and Mako couldn't stand there watching it unfold as the woman had been forced to suppress her pain, a repeat of what she had been doing for many months.\n\n\"STOP IT! You don't have to do this! Stop treating her like an animal!\"\n\nOut of all people, it had to be Alma Cooper. In this very home, right where they stood, it was her the very woman the Hirano had invited to their home, shared dinner with, spent holidays together. Six years of friendship with the Coopers were all gone, they became mere strangers. It was as if Akira had died back in September, and what remained was nothing but a shell of former herself, a monster, a deceiver. A traitor. But, was she, really? \n\nA hand raised up, not directly to Alma, but at her father to lower his gun. He refused to do so.\n\n\"I've... Always been on your side... Alma... I've always wanted to help you.\" Akira finally spoke up in English, her breathing labored, her chest struggling to fall and raise. \n\n\" Yes... Yes I am, I am working on the cure... I've been working... On it for months...\"\n\nHow? How could Akira Hirano, a werewolf, have the power to help Briar Ridge?\n\n Her weary eyes glanced over a cabinet where a small altar stood in the living room. Trinkets, praying beads and different religious objects were inside it, alongside a single picture taken from a past that seemed to distant. Little Akira, \"Aka-chan\" As they used to call her, with her mother. These walls had ears, but they stood hopeless in the barrier between life, death, and the karmic cycle.\n\nRiza Hirano was watching. Akira could feel her presence, powerless to do anything, she heard them screaming. After all, it was the living who were\n\nMore dangerous than the dead, weren't they?\n\n\"The question comes, Alma... Would've you listened before?...Or would you have had the same reaction as you do now?\" Aki continued, coughing in between. \"Because something tells me it's the later... Alma, you scare me... You scare me more than the werewolf that bit me and infected me... I'll say this..\"\n\nHer hand raised up again, now stained in her own blood.\n\n\"Kill me now... And there'll be no damn cure. Because with my vision... I can find the people who can make it a reality.\""
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "*Traitor.*\n\nThe word slivered from her mind to the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. She'd harbored her own father once before she'd gained her senses. Kept his secret. Made excuses. Told lie after lie to keep him safe, even when he came back home with blood on his boots and it caked in his beard. She'd thought they would find a solution. \n\nAnd the person who was mean to find that solution had proven useless. \n\n\"I'll stop treatin' her like an animal when her kind stops treatin' me n' you like *Food*,\" She snapped back at Mako. He would learn one day. Though he didn't have a wife to protect the way Alma had to look out for her Mama. Only a daughter. There was a chance he'd only learn when Akira came 'round to feast on his bones.\n\nThe last thing Alma expected Aki to do was to defend Alma. Her brows knit themselves into knots at the way Aki's trembling hand raised up against her father. The other hand was... Nonexistent. Akira had hidden herself away from Alma so well that she had yet to lay eyes on what she'd only heard rumors about. She hoped it was cause whoever Aki ate last had gone down fighting. Good to know the monsters couldn't grow back limbs. She'd have to keep that in mind if push came to shove. \n\nGranted, she was shovin' like Hell already. \n\n\"Help? Hidin' yourself away for months was meant to help me? Keepin' to the shadows? Lettin' yourself rip into the people of this good town month after month *After month* Was somehow supposed to *Help me*? I'm afraid you're gonna have to try a Hell of a lot harder than that, Aki.\" \n\nAlma didn't follow Aki's gaze. Instead, she kept her eyes glued right on her target in case this was all some trick. In case she'd have to yank her up quick if Mako went to pull that trigger. The front door began to shake as Dog's fervor increased. He scratched at it, ripping off paint in great swatches. He foamed at the mouth through his incessant barking, globs of white drool coating his face and chest. \n_ _\n\n\"See, Aki, I did the math. I seent the patterns once Shady told me 'bout you. I started askin' myself when you stopped showin' up. Why you stopped showin' up at the safehouses n' why you didn't turn up at the coalition meetin's like you shoulda when I first invited you. You been this thing since you was attacked at my place, ain't you? That's when you started disappearin'. That makes it eight months straight you been lyin' to me. Eight. Fuckin'. Months. \n\n\"You was my friend. At least, I thought you was. I was doin' all this to protect you. Ain't I tell you that? That I was gonna try n' make it so no other beast ever hurt you again that day I showed up cryin n' apologizin' for you gettin' hurt? If you'd'a just told me, I would'a figured somethin' out. Instead, you kept quiet n' you n' that wolf what turnt you n' all them other beasts kept *Killin'*. You ain't trust me. N' now I cain't trust you.\n\n\"So what proof do you have that you been workin' on this damn cure? You say you been workin' for months? Show me.\""
},
{
"author": "Mitica Lakatos",
"message": "**TW/CW:** *Violence, mention of blood and a violent death in the form of a memory, mention and brief description of xenophobia in the past*\n\nToday was supposed to go by without a hitch. He was going to make dinner and have tea with Akira and Mako and make sure they were doing okay. Akira was still recovering from various injuries while Mako always seemed to work himself to the bone, even with his heart condition and aging body making it more risky to push himself too far - not like Mitica was any better, though. The Hirano family had been through so much, not only concentrated here in Briar Ridge but also in their homeland and other parts of the US. Now, Mitica didn't know lots of details regarding their struggles in Japan (especially Mako's story regarding war) and knew only a little about what they faced elsewhere in places like California and Washington, but he knew that they deserved better than this. Mako was always worried about his daughter and seeing her experience near death events almost every month while Akira was injured again and again. She didn't know who to trust, she didn't know if the person she interacted with next would be her next victim or wouldn't hesitate to kill her on sight. She was young and had a lot of time ahead of her and Mitica tried not to think too hard about all the things she'd need to carry with her throughout her hopefully long life.\n\nHe knew what it was like to live with regrets, to live after losing everyone else in your life, to need to literally fight tooth and nail for survival when it felt like anyone you passed by might be more than willing to spit in your face and stab you in an alley for supposedly stealing children or to not be believed because you were an inherent liar who only cared about money and debauchery - allegedly, of course.\n\nMitica thought this town was better, he *Needed* This town to be better, but even if Briar Ridge didn't look down on him for his ancestry or missing limbs they certainly looked down on others because of another thing they couldn't control. Approaching the house Mita could feel a strange pit form in his gut, something he couldn't explain until he got even closer. Emerging from the woods the older man stopped dead in his tracks, placing a firm hand on Draga's back to make him stop as well. The first thing he spotted was Alma's precious hound Dog clawing at the door, such behavior easily making Draga slink back a little in fear. Deciding to retreat back into the shadows and behind a tree Mitica listened in close, eventually catching wind of three distinct voices. He recognized Akira's any day and the distress in her words always managed to break his heart whenever it appeared. Mako was there too but he couldn't hear him as well. Then, there was Alma - what the hell was she doing here? Peeking out again and staring at Dog he slowly began to piece together that Alma didn't come here for a good reason.\n\nWhy would she bring Dog when he was acting so aggressive? Why was Akira's voice so strained and why was Alma's so eerily calm in comparison? What the fuck was going on?\n\nHe didn't really think anything as he moved through the forest, hoping to maintain as much cover as possible while he slithered towards the side of the home. Once there was a straight shot towards the side of the house Mitica rushed towards it, keeping his body as low to the ground as he could muster before leaning his back against the outer house walls. Draga followed of course, sensing his owner's urgency and copying, keeping low as well but still seemingly incredibly nervous. Giving his dog a little head pat of encouragement Mitica continued, ducking under windows before popping up to continue as normal, still keeping his body close to the house. Eventually he made it to the back of the home, peeking over the corner to see if anyone else came by and was guarding the back door. Thankfully, it was unguarded, and in swift slinking movements Mitica hurried over. He turned the handle slowly, testing to see if it was unlocked while also being as quiet as possible. With the door unlocked Mitica opened it just enough for him and Draga to slide inside, closing it carefully once he was indoors.\n\nThe voices were much clearer now, especially Alma's. What words he did catch chilled him to the bone, his heart rate spiking and fingertips beginning to tremble with another rush of adrenaline. Luckily, Mitica knew this house well, and snuck to an adjacent room. Mitica motioned with his finger, pointing down to instruct Draga to sit. After Draga was seated Mitica held his arms in an *'X'* Formation over his chest, signaling for Draga to stay. Mitica began to leave but Draga started following again, leading to Mitica repeating the process until his nervous dog listened, but not without giving him the wettest, saddest puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen.\n\nEventually Draga obeyed and this left Mitica alone and ready to beat some ass. Peeking out from the room Mitica rushed to another that had access to the kitchen and front of the home. Peering out he saw the scene clear as day - Mako held a gun at Alma, Alma held a gun at Akira, and Akira looked absolutely helpless. She was being held up by her hair and was still very weakened from her injuries. For a moment Mitica was frozen, his mind drifting somewhere else.\n\nDeer antlers. Blood. That *Thing* Fucking impaled her like a kebab. It was supposed to be another morning catching up with her, catching up with his niece, bonding with Essie after eleven whole years of searching. No, instead she lost her life right then and there, because the monsters of Briar Ridge took her. A deformed deer's front facing eyes bore into his own, burning into the back of his head and their owner was her - Alma. There was no way in hell he was going to lose someone else because of this stupid fucking town, they'd have to take them over his dead body!\n\nHe was really seeing red now, more flashes of memories rushing by his mind's eye as he approached Alma from behind. Blood on a knife, a lock of someone's hair, cold handcuffs, playing cards snuck in his pants, bruised knuckles. She was so focused on her stupid fucking monologue, talking about proof they were working on a cure. Oh, if only she knew, if only she didn't support an organization that made everyone afraid to be truthful, that made people like Akira afraid to speak up about their agonizing situation and harbored people who couldn't see werewolves as people anymore, then maybe they'd feel more comfortable saying something! Getting a few paces behind her Mitica finally charged, his right hand balled into a fist and wrist deliberately held straight out and stiff to prevent him from accidentally breaking his wrist on impact.\n\nUsing the side of his fist with his clenched fingers facing his target Mitica swung with all his might, sucker punching Alma in the jaw and sending her onto her side. As he did so Mitica leaped over, putting his foot on her gun to prevent her from picking it back up, not caring if he also hurt some of her fingers in the process. If she released it during the attack he'd use his foot to slide it across the room but not before giving it a good stomp to try and break it. He didn't say anything as he wasn't entirely sure what to say, he was too enraged to think of anything coherent. Instead he just stared her down, his breathing heavy and fists still balled up in anger, trying to place his body deliberately between her and Akira - at least somewhat, just in case Alma tried anything again. His glasses reflected the sun coming in from the window but behind them his eyes lacked their usually gentle vibe. Instead of looking tired and compassionate or even afraid Mitica's face was contorted into a grimace, his teeth bared and eyebrows furrowed.\n\nIt took all of his willpower to not start beating her to a pulp right then and there. **Nobody** Messes with his family and he was more than ready to make her life a living hell if it got the point across, consequences be damned."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Her? Treating us like food? Aka-chan never wanted to hurt anyone ...You have no idea the lengths she'd go to fight this curse!\" Mako spat his venom, his gun stood high, but his finger stood far from the trigger. \" Don't put me on your side, Cooper. I already chose mine.\"\n\n How could Alma not see through this? It was her own father who too got cursed! Poor old Mako tried to understand, but he couldn't as much as he tried, he couldn't even recognize the same woman anymore. How could she not have mercy? Did she not weep for her father after he died? Did she not feel any remorse in attempting to murder an old friend like Akira in cold blood?\n\nBriar Ridge was their home, or at least, that was what the Hirano called it for six years after finding it. Ever since setting foot in foreign soil, Americans looked at Akira and her father with distrust. They saw in a family of three something dangerous and deceitful, they put them in a box, sometimes even going as far as being unwelcomed by hostile locals despite braking their backs with the sweat of their hard work. Why would she betray the very place that for a while treated them like humans for once?\n\nYes, Akira had hid for eight months. Eight months of agony, almost thirty five weeks of fighting her own hunger, over two hundred and forty three days of trying to find redemption, to find the humanity that she had been stripped from... All to not keep hurting the people of Briar Ridge.\n\nOf course Mako would be on her side, and not just that. He was on the side of every family who had to cower themselves in fear because of a curse that nobody had chosen. He understood their pain. It was him and Mitica who took the nasty silver bullet of his child's thigh, it was him who helped a pack member tend their wounds, it was him who sent Doctor Nathaniel to check up on his daughter. \n\nHypocrite. Mako thought, Alma Cooper was a hypocrite. He could easily pull the trigger at any moment and save Akira. If he was branded a\n\nTraitor for doing so, at least he could say he didn't betray his own blood. \n\nOf course Akira could show proof, it was all in her diary entries, she didn't need to have a gun pointed to her head! She had every single one of their names, their identities, their gifts. Now only that, she knew damn well that Cooper right there was also hiding something, or rather, someone who could speed up the making of the cure.\n\nAkira Hirano, a werewolf, a seer, a human nonetheless, with each layer peeling one by one, was willing to speak in spite the sheer rage she had it boiling deep within her soul. \n\nThe woman opened her mouth, coughing, trying to ignore the spirits of her ancestors as they rattled in her head, powerless spectators of her death, her few alibis. She could hear her mother begging Alma to stop, her great aunt shouting obscenities, Dog was trying to break their front door, her father was screaming.\n\nEverything was so loud... Akira wanted to speak but the world was so loud and angry.\n\n'ああ...うるさい' She whispered. No, she begged for all this noise to stop. The world needed to stop.\n\nAnd suddenly, it all came to a stop when Mitica broke in, knocking Alma out of the way. \n\nHer hair was let go, the cold barrel of her gun put away, Akira was free, she could breathe. \n\nMako wasted no time to aid his child, not without lowering his own weapon as he put himself over the woman, turning two men into human shields to protect a werewolf.\n\nOr rather... To protect their little family they had left..\n\n_\"Aka-chan... Are you okay? Are you okay dear?\"_ The old man, despite the poison in his eyes, wept at the sight of Akira's bandages, now all bloody and dirty. All of doctor's Ashworth's hard work, undone. \n\n_\"Too... Noisy...\"_ Was the only thing Akira could utter, her eyes stuck to the ceiling, her lips shaking."
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Alma never would have guessed she'd get snuck up on. She knew the Hirano's well enough to be fully aware that Aki's mother had died years ago. It was only supposed to be the two of them. Mako had been the only variable. She should have staked out the house and waited for him to leave. Or she should have jumped Aki when she slipped outside. Or she should have—\n\nIt didn't matter now. Somebody's fist met her jaw n' she went flying. Alma may have gotten a hair stronger from her long days of working on the cage, but she was far from what most might call fit. Her cheeks were gaunt from too many skipped meals. The dark circles under her eyes belied the nightmares she was plagued with every single night. She was weak. She'd done what she needed to to win. And now she was tasting blood. Her head swam from the impact. She was only vaguely aware of the sound of something hard crashing uselessly against unyielding metal, and became more aware as her Papa's gun skittered past her face and far out of reach. She groaned, rolling up on her side and cupping her face in her hand. \n\nThat was gonna bruise. \n\nHer eyes finally found a man she'd only spotted once or twice. He was a good man. She knew of him: Mitica Lakatos. Rhett had donated clothes to him in the winter. He was known for being helpful. Good. *Peaceful.*\n\nIt made her laugh. It was a broken, humorless sound. The sound of a woman whose sanity had somehow gotten lost in the mad fight for survival. For protection. For humanity. She rolled onto her back and lifted herself up on her elbows, holding up her palms in the universal sign of defeat at Mako's continued pointing of his gun. Mitica hadn't spoken, so she looked up at the elder Hirano instead with a bloody grin. \n\n\"Easy there, Mr. Hirano. You got me square. I wouldn't pull that trigger if I was you, though. You may have me outnumbered now, but I done told the coalition 'bout your traitorous daughter. If I wind up missin or dead, the numbers ain't gonna be in your favor.\n\nSo I suggest we get to talkin'. That's all I want. Answers. Simple.\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Could Mako pull the trigger? To end what Mitica had started to save his one daughter? Moving out would be the only choice if he were to make that mistake. To flee Briar Ridge, to leave all their pain and grief behind to start a new. But he couldn't do it, not to Alma, his teary eyes met with Cooper's cold ones, only for him to lower his gun in defeat, his free hand covered his face as he let out an anguished sob.\n\nHe couldn't do it, he couldn't kill William's child. His heart would never allow it for as long as the memory of his friend lived. The poor old man even felt as if the former Mayor's spirit would never move on if he were to continue the cycle of violence. Was this really what Briar Ridge needed?\n\nAkira coughed once more, this time, trying to let her voice to be heard as it was breaking.\n\n\"I was right when I told Shady that... I wasn't _'Aki'_ to you no more... Sometimes I-I still wonder... What would've happened if I died... You wouldn't have to deal with this kind of heartache... Nobody would..\" She said, with her eyes teary with no way to hide them. The woman mustered whatever strength she still had in her to sit up, grimacing as Mako threw his own gun away to catch his daughter as she struggled.\n\n_'My diary... Bring it_' Aki said in her native tongue, the words rolling as gentle as they had always been, with a body language to match despite the pain, as if time never went by... As if she held no anger towards Alma for doing what she just did. Her father followed her wishes and went to search in her bedroom, Aki then gestured Mitica to help her stand up so she could take a seat on the couch.\n\nWith a faint grunt, she let her body collapse on the cushions, thanking Mita with a shaky nod, she moved her one hand over her shoulder to just take a look at her old wounds, her bandages were stained in crimson, her shirt was dirty too, but she trusted she could give Alma the answers she had been seeking before even thinking of giving Doctor Nathaniel another heart att\n\nAck.\n\n\"I need to start from the beginning.\" Aki began with a deep breath, as Mako returned with the small journal. \" Before I was turned... I had a gift, I can sense people's true nature. You could say I'm some sort of witch, o-or cursed... But the thing is, I know who can make the cure because of this gift. You see, before the full moon, I'd get visions of my ancestors, even my mom came sometimes in my dreams. She warned me of someone at the time. It was April.\"\n\nMaking sure her blood had been dried off her hand, Akira opened the journal on its first entries, her hand trembled and yet she kept the same tenderness she always was known for. There, she saw a name that was once in English originally, translated into neat kana.\n\n```エイプリル・ベイカー```\n\n\" On a full moon, I found out she was a werewolf. Now that I look back... I feel like... I feel like I only delayed the inevitable. \"Aki's lips quivered as she read her own entry. \"If I said something... I'd make these kids orphans... I didn't wanna break what little family she had left, I couldn't bring myself to do it...!I could've never been so... So stupid... So stupid!\"\n\nAkira, still holding her diary with the same care she'd do with a small kitten or pup, continued to go over the pages as she tried not to stain them, holding back her own sobbing to continue talking.\n\n\"I tried to continue to search for more werewolves, my gift is limited so I could only try to look into one person every month... But shortly after I discovered her... I-I got attacked in your house. It had seemed as if they knew, Alma... They knew I could put the pack in danger. I saw no point in my gift anymore... That's why I isolated myself... I didn't wanna hurt anybody... I didn't wanna be a monster... I still don't... Want to, I refuse...!.\"\n\nAkira lowered her voice, she needed to keep talking, she needed to stay strong. But the truth was that she could never be like Alma, she didn't have the strength. Despite being able to change every full moon, Aki was far from untouchable. She was powerless, and her worst enemy.\n\n\"I couldn't look at you in the eyes no more...\" She choked, trying to reach the last page There, she had all the names, she ripped the page, gently placing it on the coffee table.\n\n\"This... Is my deception, I've been trying to find the people who can make the cure a reality with my gift ever since that cursed journal was found...\" Akira said, particularly fixating her misty gaze in Alma's name, written in kana, reminiscing of the few months she and her met. The youngest of the Coopers had been one of the first people to ever show interest in the Hirano's culture. Akira's enthusiasm went as far as teaching Alma how to write her own name in Japanese, back when Aki herself struggled to say her name out loud. A distant and bittersweet memory.\n\n```エイプリル・ベイカ = 人狼\n\n\n\n\n\n\nアルジャーノン・グランビル= (REDACTED)```\n\n\"I need to translate these for you... I think you'll recognize a couple of these names, you may even know them personally... I've found the immune, I've found someone with healing hands, I've found a witch,\" She added. \"We've also found out that... The cure is more than just medicine, it's a ritual, and it's more complicated than that..\"\n\nAkira bit her lip. \"But right now, I want to focus on finding the last person needed for this... I only need to use my powers on one last person to see if they really are who we need...\"\n\nFinally, after the struggle that it was to talk, Aki looked up, trying to find a reaction in Alma's eyes, trying to find... Forgiveness.\n\n\"I've always wanted to help... I've always wanted to protect the people I love. I'm sorry it took me this long to talk... I'm sorry\n\nFor the sins I've committed ...I want to fix it. I have to fix it... For you, for April's babes... For everyone...\""
}
] | 600 | 8,567 |
412.866667 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "Word of Aki's illness had reached Florian by means of Freddie Lovejoy. The words of Owen echoed in his mind, _there is something we can all do, even if it is small_. The jar of soup in his bag was his small way of doing something, of bringing kindness. He was not a talented cook by any means, the cast iron stove in the kitchen of the Barca estate was not designed with his height in mind, but he had learned how to make it work. Florian had been to the Hirano's cottage quite a few times before. Mako and Aki had moved into Briar Ridge around the same time Valerian had left to work for S&C in Richmond. With his brother's departure, Florian was the only Barca left in Briar Ridge. It was just him and a nurse who came to help him with his daily functioning. Logically, he tried to find connections outside of the house, not wanting to be left to rot inside its walls. One such connection had been with Aki and Mako, who treated him with kindness and helped him overcome some of his bitterness regarding his situation. Not all of it, he kept plenty bottled away, but a good amount was drained out by the Hiranos over the years. \n\nLucky for him, the cottage was fairly close by, the soup would still be warm when he arrived. He knocked on the door, greeted by the familiar face of Mako opening the door.\n\n\"I brought Aki some soup, Freddie told me she wasn't feelin' good.\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "A pool of blood, corpses in a pile of rubble. Her father's mangled corpse in her arms. That nightmare came and decided to repeat on loop ever since the first day after the full moon. \n\nAkira struggled to sleep, she struggled to stand up, her body violently reacted to something beyond her comprehension. She stood bedridden for s whole week, and it was her poor old man who take care of her.\n\nThe woman looked frail, she was frail, and ill. It seemed like every full moon punished her body more and more, with each scar multiplying, and now with a lasting fever and aches.\n\nBut the Hirano weren't alone. Mitica Lakatos paid her a visit, Ms Lorelai came panicked and offered assistance. Akira was in good hands, in Briar Ridge's hands. \n\nAnd despite everything, she smiled through the pain. \n\nMr Hirano opened the door as he was just done with putting some dirty clothes away, revealing a familiar face on a wheel chair.\n\n\"Florian!\" The aging man greeted with a smile that was highlighted by his expression marks. Perhaps the young man would still remember how his hair was still pitched black when they first met, as it now showed grey strings.\n\nBut it was still good ol' Mako, opening the door for anyone with open arms to visit their home.\n\n\"Let me help you ..\" He said, pushing the wheelchair to go over the few steps to enter the small cottage. \n\nThe door led the two directly to the living room, and in a small couch Aki sat, in what seemed to be a fortress of blankets and pillows. It was the first time she had gotten out of bed since the full moon. \n\n\"Flo...\" The sickly woman moved her chipped lips, revealing her pale face as her father and the young man made their way. Her voice was weak, quieter even for her own standards.\n\nShe smiled despite her sorry state as her guest made himself comfortable.\n\n\"Glad to see you're going okay... \""
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "Florian returned the smile, Mako may have aged visibly, but his kindness remained firmly in place. After a terrifying few seconds where the old man pushed Florian (_please don't trip_) over the steps, the two entered the living room. Ill didn't seem an adequate enough descriptor to label how Akira looked and sounded. \"Hey there Aki.\" He replied to the woman, who was tucked into a nest of sorts. It looked comfortable. \n\nOf course Aki, sick as she was, still found it in herself to comment on his good health. \"It's goin' to take more than a pair of claws to the leg once to take me out, don't you worry about me. Focus on gettin' better yourself.\" He was a Barca, and they were stubborn to a fault. He could joke about it now, as he did with many things that had previously greatly affected him. It had been a month and the wounds were healing well. February's moon had passed without any attacks for Florian, for whatever reason the powers that be had decided to grant him and his a safe moon for once. Couldn't be said for everyone though, it never could here. \n\n\"I made you some soup, it's vegetable-based. It always made me feel better when I was ill, I hope it does the same for you.\" He opened the bag on his lap and pulled out the jar. It hadn't spilled, luckily. \"It's still warm.\" He said, holding the soup out for Aki, should she want to take it."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Heh, I have no option but to focus on myself, now!\" Akira laughed, followed by a small coughing fit, which she was able to recover from quickly with some hearty pats on her chest. \"Ah, excuse me.\" \n\nMako on his own spot in the living sighed in relief, being too close to interfere as his daughter couldn't stop worrying him for a second. \n\nAnd even yet, for someone in such a sorry state, Aki was in good spirits. As if being cursed was simply a minor inconvenience. \n\n\"Soup...?\" The woman's eyes lit up, almost wiggling in her nest. \"For me?...Ah, Flo. That's so kind of you!\"\n\nShe wanted to take it with both hands so badly, but she knew that this illness made even holding objects tricky for her due to the tremors she'd experience. Mako was the one who took the jar, with a good idea of what to do with it.\n\n\"Thank you so much!\" He said, sharing the same enthusiasm as his daughter. \" I'll pour some of this in a bowl, I'll be right back~\" \n\nThe man left the living room towards the kitchen that was only as big as a hallway. Clearly it wasn't wheelchair friendly, but it had everything a family as little as the Hirano needed. Wood for a fire, some old pots and pans, an ice box, and a cabinet with all kinds of pottery brought from their homeland in Japan. \n\n\"I'm hoping your brother is also okay? How's Freddie? \" Akira wasted no time with her questions. And who could blame her? She only wanted to make sure everyone in Briar Ridge survived the full moon."
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "Concern showed on his face as Aki launched into a coughing fit. He smiled at her when she excused herself. \"Of course, you're my friend Aki, and I want to see you better as soon as possible.\" He had ample experience being ill, he'd been bedridden for weeks when he was 17 and he had hated every second of it. He never fully recovered, having lost the ability to walk, and it had been a different illness than the one Aki had. Regardless of specifics, nobody liked being sick. \"I hope you'll like it. If not, please tell me and I'll get you another jar with an improved version next time.\"\n\n\"Valerian is doing alright, still not fully his old self, but he's recoverin' well.\" Flashes of bloodied hospital sheets appeared in his mind, he forced them away. \"The wolves passed by the estate this month, we were spared this time around.\" Florian didn't know if he believed in God, but something had protected them this moon, and he was grateful for it, whoever or whatever it had been. He knew others hadn't been so lucky. Blood had been spilled, as it always did, as he feared it always would.\n_ _\n\nAt the mention of Freddie's name he couldn't help but smile. _Oh young love._ He wondered if Aki knew about the true nature of the relationship between them or if she was still under the impression that they were best friends. \"Freddie's doin' good too, he's yet to come face to face with one of those monsters. I pray he never does.\" Freddie had promised Florian that he'd protect him, that any wolf who dared breach the walls of whatever safehouse the two would be in would be greeted with silver bullets. He knew Freddie was a good shot, and with Valerian's guidance, Florian himself had become decent at it. But he still did not want Freddie to see what haunted Briar Ridge during the full moon, he did not want any of the wolves to come close enough to the young Lovejoy that he might risk getting hurt. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt protecting him, be it directly or indirectly. \n\n\"He comes by nearly every day, he does. Him and his pony Angel, after he finishes work he swings by the estate. He's even built a ramp into his house so I can visit him there too. He's a wonderful man, as always.\" Hope in small places. Despite the attacks life went on, people fell in love, and friendships formed. Briar Ridge relied on each other, even with the knowledge that its inhabitants might be the death of one another in the future. \"He told me you two had met in the general store?\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Glad to hear everyone is doing alright... And that your family has been spared this time around.\"\n\nWas it really God's grace, though? How bleak was the situation at Briar Ridge where people could say that two casualties after the full moon was a relief? Akira couldn't stop thinking about it as Florian spoke, biting the edge of her nail. But if there was one thing that kept her at ease, it was the fact that there were still citizens who had yet to face the beasts, Freddie being amongst them.\n\n\"I pray he never comes near them, too.\" The woman sighed in relief, letting her finger go as she smiled weakly at the man. \"No one has to bear that horror... No one.\"\n\nIf only nobody in this town could, including her own father, who had to watch her getting mauled at Alma's home. He saw it all, he heard it all, it was him who carried her to the hospital, almost bleeding out.\n\nAkira tried her best to push those thoughts out of the way, even if they were already part of Briar Ridge's entire subconscious, instead she wanted to focus on Freddie, and the way Florian's face lit up by the mere mention of the man.\n\nAt first Aki thought the two men were simply best friends, but seeing Flo talk more about that sweet man she met at the store, the more she could see that look in his eyes.\n\nIt was the same look she'd see whenever someone talked about someone special. She saw it in Alma when she visited her ages ago and mentioned Rhett, she saw a sorrowful and distorted version of it when Jade cried on her lap over Arthur, she saw those same eyes whenever her father looked at her mom when she was still alive.\n\nLove, the look of love. Love was a difficult concept for Aki, for she never felt attracted to men. She had crushes before, but she always kept them a secret, for the only people she had eyes for were women.\n\nNow? She had no interest-No, that was a blatant lie, she yearned for love and to be loved back, but the times in Briar Ridge made it even more difficult to do so.\n\nShe had nothing to offer, no money, no name, she couldn't even marry if she wanted to.\n\nBut what was scarier, was her fear of hurting those she loved the most. She didn't deserve the love of a woman, not if she was going to make her suffer like she was doing with her father... And that poor old man had enough.\n\n\"I met him at the store, yes!Such a lovely boy, he helped me carry the groceries after I embarrassed myself and dropped them.\"\n\nBut what gave her hope and joy was seeing people like Freddie and Florian, two young men ready to face the world together, ready to love. They had a chance, they were still young, they weren't like her.\n\nThey were nothing like her.\n\n\"Awww... That's so nice, though-I mean, to see you two are so close.\" The woman said with a giggle. \"I'd say very close... Have you told him?\""
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "\"I'm glad to see you two were safe as well. Apart from whatever illness has gotten into you, of course.\" He knew Aki had been attacked too, a while back. She'd seen those wolves the same as he had now. No-one deserved that, but he was glad it had been him and not Freddie. Stupidly. \"We live to see another month, let's focus on that.\" He gave her a weak smile, clearly the topic of werewolves stirred many emotions in him, none of them positive. He wouldn't speak of it unless Aki brought it up. \n\nFreddie was kind, it was his kindness that had drawn Florian to him. The boy felt like the sun on a warm summer's day. It didn't surprise him at all that Freddie had helped out Aki. \"He is lovely indeed.\" \n\nIt appeared Aki saw through him just as easily as both his siblings had. He suspected Olivia had known for much longer than she'd let on. Florian had never been known to be a good actor. He tended to wear his heart on his sleeve. He smiled, they were close, _very close_ indeed. \"I-\" He had, they both had. It had started with Freddie soaked in rain and hiding a massive secret, Florian hiding some secrets of his own. Both of them not believing the other could truly want to be with him, not with their full self anyway. Both had been wrong. \"Yes. Yes I have.\" He couldn't help himself from smiling widely. Oh how he loved that man. \n_ _\n\nHe looked at the kitchen nervously. He lowered his voice when he spoke. \"Mako, he's, he's alright with uh...\" _With me being in love with a man?_ Aki seemed to be, which somehow didn't surprise Florian. He knew there were others like him in Briar Ridge, which helped. \"You know?\" He gestured vaguely, evidently he was nervous about coming out. The only other people he'd told in so many words had been Valerian and Olivia. Both had made it feel like it was perfectly fine. But it was still very new to him, both being in love and having to potentially explain his love to others. Florian didn't even truly know how he was supposed to describe himself, all he knew was that he loved Freddie Lovejoy, and that was all that mattered to him."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "To live another month, to be able to love. Those were the things that kept Akira going despite the hardships. Getting the confirmation of her suspicion over Florian's feelings for Freddie only made her smile grow wider. \n\nOh, and they confessed? Now she wanted to know all the details! But she had to hold herself back from bombarding the poor man with all the questions. \n\nMore importantly, Akira caught on quickly what her friend tried to imply. Her gaze turned to the kitchen, where Mako was focused on pouring the soup and making tea for their guest. She turned back to Florian, hiding her face with one hand while giggling in case she'd get another cough fit. \n\n\"Oh, he's very open about it.\" Akira said, reminiscing the day after the full moon, when she told Mako about her infatuation for women. She felt so silly for thinking her own father would be disgusted or stop loving his own child. Yet her fears were understood by the man himself, the world was cruel to people like her and Florian. \n\nIt had been so long since Akira felt so safe.\n\n\"I'm sure he'd be just as happy for you two. \" She added, not wanting to make the conversation about how she came out to her only family left. She hated making things about herself.\n\n\"You have to tell me everything, though! Heh, if you're okay with it, I'm just a woman who loves seeing smiles on people's faces, is all.\""
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "Mako wouldn't judge Florian for loving Freddie, another weight that fell from his shoulder. Florian wondered if this is what it would be like from now on, having to wonder if people he'd known for ages would still look at him the same way. He hadn't really heard anyone in Briar Ridge outwardly admitting they disliked people like him. Maybe he was just being overly cautious. He probably was. Part of why he was so cautious was because he wanted to protect Freddie. He wanted to keep his secret safe, to keep **Him** Safe, the way he'd looked that night, as though he was ready to be rejected by Florian... He could never, _would_ never.\n\nHe had his suspicions that Akira was like him, in all his years of knowing her she'd not once indicated being interested in men. He'd seen her look at women in ways that seemed to go beyond friendship. He wasn't going to ask her, if Aki wanted to tell him she would, on her own time. Until then, he'd hold onto the thought that Aki might just be a woman who loved other women, he'd support her regardless. \n\n\"He sent me purple violets, _purple violets_, famously flowers of love, he didn't even know that that is what those meant, can you believe that? He called me darlin', and I still didn't put two and two together, Aki. I had hope, of course, but I wasn't certain.\" He laughed. Valerian had laughed at him for that too. \"And then uh, well, I uh, I asked him if I could kiss him.\" He was going to leave out the part where Freddie cried in his arms. That was between them two and nobody else. \"And uh, he did-\" He smiled \"-he did, and then I was pretty certain.\" Florian could feel himself growing slightly red. This was all new to him, _very_ new. \"It was wonderful, _he_ is wonderful. Bein' around him makes me feel like I'm standin' in the sun, he makes me feel warm, and safe, and happy. I just-\" _I love him._ \"He means the world to me, he does.\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Not only Mako didn't judge Florian for being who he was, the old man was eagerly waiting behind the doorframe as he held the soup bowl with a huge smile on his face! The meal was more than ready, but much like his daughter, he wanted to know all the details.\n\nBesides, he knew that Akira was fit best fit this kind of conversation. Even if she didn't say it out loud, she loved women the same way Florian loved men. The poor old man still felt like a fool for not realizing sooner, for not seeing the signs. No wonder his child looked so sad when her close friend Himiko fancied a boy back in San Diego, no wonder she never spoke about men the same way Florian did about Freddie. \n\nAkira at this point even forgot that her father was supposed to bring her soup, she was too invested in this love story, a story so real that nobody in the world would be able to take away, no matter what they said. \n\nFlowers? Pet names? All of that and it took them this long to finally confess? The woman blinked, giggling to the point she had to put a hand over her mouth to hide it. Not that she was laughing at them of course, she was laughing over the fact that her heart melted at such acts of pure, innocent love. \n\nDespite it all, they were able to live their lives, to love, to smile through their grief and pain. \n\n\"Oh, Flo. Never change.\" Aki sighed, clearing her throat to avoid another cough fit. \n\n\"What you two have is amazing, and I congratulate you both. I met Freddie just last month an' I can just say you were made for each other.\" \n\nAkira could only pray the two of them could spend their lives in peace, perhaps even leave this godforsaken town. But things weren't that easy. \n\n\"Protect each other, alright? I don't think you need me to say this, but just in case... I hope you two never lose what you found in each other. I can only imagine how precious it is.\"\n\nIndeed, Akira could only leave the concept of love to her imagination. She had other priorities in life, many things in her mind."
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "He laughed with Aki who giggled at his obliviousness. _Never change._ He wished he could always be this version of himself, smiling with friends, talking of love, his heart full of warm feelings for the people he was around. But that self had learned to make room for a much more angry, much less compassionate self. A self who wished for violence, who was ready to lay finger on trigger and send bullets into cursed neighbors. That self wasn't here right now, Florian wouldn't allow it. This was a time of peace, there would be time for war again later. But he could feel that part of him lingering, taking root deeper and deeper every day.\n\n\"We will, I'll do whatever I can to protect him, if a wolf tries to come for us while we're hidin', we're not going down without a fight.\" He thought back to the January moon, where Freddie promised he'd protect him. Of course he'd prefer to not go down at all, but if worse did come to worse, he'd be dragging that beast down with him.\n_ _\n\n\"Val is still bein' quite unrelentin' about me not stayin' at the estate durin' the full moons. Hole in the wall and all, I can see reason in that. But he won't accept _any_ discussion on the topic. I know it's because he worries for my safety, but still, I can shoot now, I've got silver bullets, I can help guard the house. I've tried tellin' him that but he just refuses to hear me out. It's frustratin' as all hell.\" He sighed, he didn't come here to rant about his brother, he came here to check up on Aki, to see how one of his closest friends was doing and to bring her soup. Help in small ways, _you bring hope, Florian._\n\n\"Freddie invited me to stay over with him and his parents for the moon, we'll both be armed, apparently he's quite the marksman. He even went so far as to build me a ramp so I could get in and out on my own. I can visit him whenever I want now. He's such a sweetheart, as I'm sure you noticed when you met him.\" He smiled. \"But hey, here I am goin' on and on about me, how about you, anythin' I've missed?\" Aki had been a bit more distant than normal, all the more reason for him to swing by more often."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Florian's change in attitude didn't go unnoticed. In fact, the more Akira listened, the more visibly uncomfortable she became, she tightened her jaw, she tried to cover herself more with the blanket as she felt a chill down her spine.\n\n Even Mako, who waited behind the doorframe, stopped on his way back to the living room, and found himself staring into the ground trying to process this young man's words. Florian was a man once filled with compassion, he was gentle, someone who found in the Hirano some sort of healing and comfort after Valerian left those years ago. Now? He was talking about inflicting violence against his potential neighbors, talking about how he learned how to shoot, how he learned how to kill. \n\nShe could see the fire in his eyes.\n\nBut Aki couldn't say anything, she was more comfortable being a listener, it fit her well. Now Florian talking about his brother Valerian, all his frustrations, not having control over his circumstances. The woman understood how he felt, even though she understood Val's intentions better. \n\nThe younger Barca brother needed to let all of this out, like a kettle under pressure letting out steam. At least, Akira could help him with that, it made her feel useful, more at peace.\n\nBut now that Florian changed the subject back to her, she had realized how quiet she'd gone. An awkward smile curled up on her lips, scratching the scar on her cheek. \n\n\"The full moons past have been quite merciful to us...\" She said. \"But only just a few days ago I woke up with this horrible flu! I mean, you probably know that hehe...\"\n\nShe let out a shaky sigh, clearing her throat after coughing once or twice. \n\nWhat else was she supposed to say? Was she ready to talk about the fact that she began to drink more? Her escapades with women? Her days of spiral and isolation? Her darkest thoughts about herself?\n\nNo, she couldn't do that to Florian. She couldn't be anyone's burden. Nobody needed to know that Aki had been falling apart.\n\n\"...Been really worried overall. Spring is starting soon and I need to be in my best condition to go back to the farms, hopefully this illness will pass by then. You know me, I can't stay still.\" \n\nFinally, Mako returned from the kitchen with the bowl of soup. He gently handed it to Aki, not being able to make eye contact with Florian. He didn't want to look at him.\n\n\"If you need anything else, let me know.\" He told his daughter with a gentle pat on his back, walking back to the kitchen to do the dishes. \n\nNow that the soup was in her hands, Akira wasted no time to take a spoonful of it. Her eyes lit up, taking away some of the tension she felt from a few moments prior as she wiggled on her spot on the couch. \n\n\"Oh, this is so good! I can already feel better~\""
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "The change in Aki's attitude didn't go unnoticed, he'd done it again, burned someone close to him with his hatred. \"I'm sorry, I-\" _You're one of my closest friends, I want to go back to how it was before, when there were no wolves, when we'd laugh at the dinner table, when trusting you with my secrets and feelings didn't cause hurt._ Aki wasn't a violent person, Florian hadn't been a violent person prior to all this. _Protect each other_ she'd said, and the only way Florian knew how to do that was through violence. Mako had every right to be disgusted by Florian's words, just as Aki had every right to judge him, even if Florian didn't realize that yet. \n\nHe swallowed, pushing his discomfort down. Mako had avoided looking at him, Florian felt deeply ashamed. \"I shouldn't have brought that up.\" He'd gotten so used to being around others who shared his views, who encouraged them, that he sometimes lost track of the other side of the coin. Running away wasn't an option for Florian, all he had was offense, if he had to rely on defense it would already be too late for him. \"But we will protect each other, that I promise. I can't imagine a world without him in it.\" The only time he'd imagined that was in his nightmares. He similarly couldn't imagine a world without Aki in it. \n\n\"I'm sure you'll be back on your feet come spring, you're strong Aki. Just be sure to get enough rest, no use in pushin' yourself when you're not ready.\" He smiled at her. \"Even if sittin' still isn't one of your strong suits.\" He said, in a friendly teasing tone. It wasn't one of his either, he was impatient too, and nobody liked being ill. \"I'm glad you enjoy it.\" He nodded at the soup. \"I'll happily make you more, just say the word. And if there's anythin' else I might be able to help with please do tell me.\" He just wanted to help, to be useful, to do what he could while Briar Ridge continued to go through hell each month."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Eh? No, no, you good!\" Akira waved her hand, cursing herself for letting her emotions take a hold of her for a second. She slipped, almost showing what tormented her every night. Florian didn't need to know that.\n\n\"I understand you want to help protect Briar Ridge, I share the sentiment, too.\" She said, looking her faded reflection into the soup before she scooped another spoonful. The reality was that Aki had her own way of helping the town, and she knew deep in her heart that not everybody could agree with it. \n\nShe could get killed for it. \n\n\"I'm sure I'll need more soup later on.\" Akira chuckled, going back to her old self with each sip. Even if she was on a borrowed time, she could at least enjoy her time with her friends. \n\n\"And then, you should give me the recipe because I'd love to make it myself!\" She added after another spoonful. \n\nHer worries would have to come later, right now, it was the time to be herself with Florian. Who knew when her body would give out and fall apart for good. \n\nFor Briar Ridge's sake, Florian and Aki needed to be standing. This was a town of survivors."
},
{
"author": "rowanfarlow",
"message": "Forgot to reply but yes ender is good!!"
}
] | 458 | 6,193 |
386.615385 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "With the cabin in good enough order and his extra cash stashed away in the loose floorboard by his bed, Bo's immediate next thought came to the fast-approaching lunch hour. He had eaten well enough in the big cities but the last two weeks had been nothing but raw foraged goods and jerky rations. He was dying for something good and hardy but the only thing left in his house was some pickles preserved in salt. Good in a pinch, but hardy? No. Bo's stomach grumbled in protest as he wondered what to do. \n\nIt was only when he resigned himself to unpacking his travel bag that Bo remembered the Hirano family — mostly the daughter that was kind enough to trade him a handful of eggs and vegetables for labor or leather. She was maybe ten years Bo's junior but no less wise for her young age, strong and dependable on the farm and in the house in a way Bo wished he had the discipline for. They had started as cordial neighbors and quickly grew into a more familiar relationship the more time they spent together. They were close enough that, when Bo traveled to Kentucky for the fair, he wanted to bring the Hirano family back a souvenir of sorts both because he was grateful for putting up with an oddball like him and because he knew it would bring a smile to Aki's face.\n\nBo never had a sister but he imagined Aki was about as close to the feeling as he would ever get. For God's sake, the man saw a baseball bat lying around at the fair and snatched it up intentionally with the thought of bringing it home to her. What on earth was she going to do with a Slugger bat? Scare off the coyotes personally? Suddenly the idea seemed awfully ridiculous — even for him. \n\nBo's stomach gurgled with need.\n\nPulling on his straw hat, Bo made for the Hirano farm, the Louisville Slugger bat tucked under his arm. He hoped he didn't look too much a mess coming off the Appalachian trail but figured that Aki had certainly seen him at far worse and wouldn't fuss too much at him since he'd been gone so long. A whole year... Bo paused his long-strides gait to the farm and cut his gaze across the view the ridge afforded him. There was Briar Ridge, tucked away like a fawn hidden by her mother, safe and protected and without a care in the world. \n\nBut a year was a long time. Bo only hoped his tall shadow would still be welcome to darken the Hirano door on such a fine day."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "How much could one year change a person? Bo would get his answer as soon as he stepped in front of the Hirano residence's porch. Perhaps the first thing he'd notice was that the door had multiple scratches on it, with some of its paint chipped as it some kind animal had furiously attempted to break it. \n\nNow, it was hard to say if good ol Bo knew what had been going on in town. _Werewolves_ had been terrorizing the ever living crap of Briar Ridge for almost an entire year, shortly after he left to Kentucky, none the less! Whether or not these rumors were true were up for debate, some may see the paranoia in the locals as a bit of an exaggeration. \n\nBut there he was, knocking on the Hirano's door. The home of a werewolf. Still, Aki was a good friends of his, soon he'd witness what a year could do to a person.\n\nAkira took her sweet time to open the door. Her father just so happened to be out, and she had planned to leave somewhere else to stay safe. She couldn't just accept guests like that anymore, not after last time at the end of April.\n\nThe woman peeked over the keyhole, and immediately all her fears faded away. \n\n\"Bobo?\" \n\nBobo, a good nickname that had never been forgotten. Akira opened the door, a big smile all over her complexion.\n\n\"Bobo! Long time no see!\" \n\nAki was delighted to see him back, it almost felt like he never left! Though her change was made obvious, one simply needed to look at her. Akira now had a long scar across her cheek that continued to the bridge of her nose, her arm was missing, too.\n\n\"Ahh come on in! Come on in! Papa should be back soon!\"\n\nDespite looking like she had been through the Great War herself, Akira still kept that same charm.\n\n\"How was you trip? Do you need anything? Water? Tea? Wait-we can out of that... Uh, we have coffee though, or do you want some food?\""
},
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "Hearing that nickname Aki alone was allowed to use transported Bo back in time. Maybe a year wasn't so long, as she certainly sounded happy to see his ugly mug even after disappearing for such a long time. Bo waited for Aki to unlatch the door, ready to grab the young woman in an all-encompassing hug, only to feel like the breath had been pulled from his lungs. Vaguely, Bo knew that Aki was talking to him, inviting him inside as usual, but Bo could only stagger a few steps forward before stopping dead. \n\nHer... Arm. \n\nHer arm was *Gone*.\n\n\"Aki,\" Bo wet his lips as he watched the young woman hurry deeper into the house. Watching her turn the corner like that, Bo wasn't sure she would disappear like a ghost. Because this didn't feel real, to see her injured so, even if she was acting as if nothing was amiss. \"Aki, what — you've been —\" The words lodged themselves in his throat and they seemed too quiet anyway, for the woman continued into the kitchen without him. \n\nBo removed his hat and kicked his boots clean of dirt before ducking his head to enter the farmhouse. As he walked down the narrow hallway into the kitchen, he caught the tail-end of Aki's offer and muttered, \"Coffee would be a blessin'.\" He sat himself down in an available chair, the bat across his knees as he watched his friend hurry around the humble kitchen like a mouse on a mission. So tiny. So young. And actin' like nothin' was more a bother than refilling the coffee pot. \"What *Happened* To yer *Arm*, hun?\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "There was a time when Aki could pretend the full moon didn't betray her every month, when she could pretend everything was okay. At this point, it all backfired after more than eight months of hiding. After setting up the fire to heat up some water, the woman was taking a couple of eggs out of a basket when Bo demanded answers. It wasn't just a question, it was _the_ question. \n\nThe short answer was: she wasn't the same Aki he had known years ago.\n\nThere was a soft hum coming from the kitchen. \"You don't know, do ya?\" \n\nHer small frame came out of the doorframe, obscuring her missing body part. Her one hand scratched the back of her neck. Did he know about the curse that plagued this town for almost a year? Has he been told about Mayor Cooper's death? What about the Sheriff or April?\n\n\"Werewolves.\" Akira let the word roll her tongue loud and clear for Bo to hear, given how outlandish it all sounded.\n\n\"It began right after you left, Bobo, they've been attacking the town each full moon... It's become an infestation at that point.\"\n\nAki sighed, for she knew this was just the tip of an iceberg, she didn't want to overwhelm a good friend who just returned home. He didn't need to know she had been one of them for over nine months, recently found out and held at gunpoint so she could spit her truths. The last thing Aki wanted to do, was to make it about herself.\n\n\"I'm glad you haven't been there to see the worst of it all. Winter was specially hard for everyone...\"\n\nHowever, that didn't answer his question. The arm, it was gone, did she have the stomach to tell him?\n\n\"Ah... By the way! We got some fresh eggs here, I was thinking I could make you some as well... Have you had dinner?\""
},
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "*\"I can hear her across the field. I think she's come to take me home.\" The soldier sitting next to him had whispered. It had been so quiet that Bo almost thought he had misheard. A minute or two passed in silence before the wet 'fwop' of the lad's tossed helmet startled Bo back awake.* \n\n*It wasn't a dream, then.*\n\n*\"Shut up,\" Bo had thoughtlessly hissed, just mad he had been woken up from his first decent sleep in days, \"What the hell you spoutin'?\" When the lad ignored Bo and instead scrambled to his feet, Bo was instantly* Awake. *His hands grabbed uselessly at the soldier's trousers, too weak with fatigue to hold tight and the wet mud making it impossible besides. \"Hey!\" He shouted in the hopes of — something.*\n\n*But the other solider just grunted and fought Bo off, spouting something about hearing his mama callin' for him. The struggle wasn't very long — though Bo didn't hear anyone's mama callin', he did hear the new burst of gunshots comin' from across the trenches.*\n\n\"I had no idea,\" Bo said, his voice low and steady, remembering the finality of that lad's body pushing him down with sudden dead weight into the cold mud. \n\nDon't question it. Nod. Express your sympathy. If Aki was calling it a werewolf, what the hell had done that to her? A wolf? Somethin' worse? Mr. Hirano would give him the truth, Bo reasoned. Whatever had happened to Akira to make her believe some fairytale creature crawled out a book's pages and bit off her arm, Bo wasn't going to get a reasonable answer from her — he never did from victims. \n\n\"I didn't come knockin' to have you feed me for free.\" The bat on his knees felt like a lead weight. \"Where's Mr. Hirano?\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Bo had no idea of it at all. Was it supposed to be a relief? A false sense of security? How could this man look at Akira in the face once it had been confirmed that she was one of the monsters that terrorized Briar Ridge? \n\nWould he have to shoot her if he wanted to live?\n\nSooner or later, he'd have to find out on his own, to run to the safehouses, to purchase silver bullets. Bo had returned to a warzone.\n\n\"Oh... Then, there's a lot to talk to you about... A lot.\"\n\nIt had been months since Akira had been fighting against her hunger, so far succeeding it, managing to not hurt other people each full moon. Only time would tell if she would surrender to the beast, as the slightly pointy fangs rubbed the corner of her tongue while she spoke.\n\n\"Don't worry about that\" Aki waved her hand. \"You came home, you deserve a good meal!...Or at least one I could make, hehe, you know me.\" \n\nThe small woman disappeared again into the kitchen just for a moment, just so she could return with two mugs of hot coffee. Her tiny hand had managed to hold both of them by the handle, using two fingers on each to hold for dear life. It was a miracle she didn't spill any liquid on her clothes.\n\n\"Papa is at a friend's place now, but he shouldn't take long to return, I'm sure he missed you a lot.\"\n\n There, she spotted the bat Bo had been carrying with him for a while.\n\n\"Oh? What's this?\""
},
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "*Don't worry, she says.* Bo mused to himself as he gently took the offered coffee mug from Aki. She seemed to be getting around well enough with the singular arm, at least. He'd seen plenty of veterans adapt well from a loss like that — figures Aki would do him proud too. The coffee was a blessing to Bo's nerves and he drank a big gulp of the warmth before Aki brought his attention back to the bat. \n\n\"Brought you somethin' from Kentucky.\" Now that she had her eyes on it, Bo felt a little less guilty about the gift. Having a weapon just outside her vision had felt like a dirty lie but now it was just as intended — a delightful surprise. Hopefully. \"Couldn't afford even a slug of bourbon so this felt like the next best thing.\" Bo waved Aki closer and set the grip of the bat in the palm of her hand. The wood was heavier than it looked, but with the right footing and grip could be easily swung even with one arm. \n\n\"Give even Babe Ruth a run fer his money, eh?\" Bo grinned as he watched Aki examine the bat. Of all the gifts he brought for the Hirano family, they never did give him any indication if it was a bother or not. You gotta chase off the cat if you don't want him to keep leaving dead birds at your door, after all, and so far all Bo got was saucers of cream for his trouble. He awaited excitedly for Aki's reaction to this new treasure."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "The word Kentucky repeated in Aki's head for a bit as if she tried to mentally locate it on the map. Right, she and her father spent a few weeks in that same state while they were on the run, doing odd jobs here and there just so they could afford food and transport. Travelling from the Wast coast to the East sure was an ordeal for the Hirano, but she didn't have memories of her time there specifically, only a few moths short of setting in Briar Ridge. \n\n\"A-A gift?\" The woman's dark eyes widened, setting her own mug on the coffee table just so she could grab the bat on time. Akira looked like a child on Christmas, with a playful smile that curled on her complexion from ear to ear. She even waved it a little to get a sense of its weight, doing little to muffle her giggling as if a year had never passed between them. Only her scars could show the passage of time. \n\n\"Bobo! I love it!\" Akira said, resting the bat on her shoulder as if she were ready to hit a home run. Sure, she couldn't learn baseball now that she had one arm less, but any sign of friendship was something she cherished close. Being outed a werewolf meant to lose friends, to burn bridges, to be accused of deceit and to make the townsfolk give her dirty looks as the children ran away to hide behind their mamas' back.\n\nOf course Akira didn't want to lose Bobo. Only time would tell if this gift of his would be something she'd cherish with a the same smile, or with heartache. \n\n\"You just got here and you're already being as kind as I remember you.\" She continued. \"Now I have even more reasons to make you dinner!\""
},
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "Seeing Aki like this, Bo couldn't help but think of his little brothers squabbling over the latest distraction Bo was able to bring home. They were never new, and they often times were dented or warped in some way, but that didn't stop his brothers from being menaces until Bo let their grubby hands grab hold. Didn't matter if it was a flower crown the boss' daughter weaved, or a particularly good grass-whistle, or a toad Bo had shoved in his pocket for the last hour. \n\nThinking on it, those brothers of his were not that much older than Aki — maybe a year or two difference at most.\n\nThey probably would have given Bo lip for bringing back such a useless souvenir or pawned it off on their own kids. It was odd to think about them as men grown, with their own families and lives when the last time Bo had seen them they had been bawlin' their eyes out knowing Bo was going off to the War. If he saw them now, would he even recognize them? Would they care to see him again? Thoughts like that were just one of the many ghosts haunting Bo any damn day. \n\nSeeing Aki happy made it just that bit better. \n\nBo cracked a smile at the young woman and rested his head in his hand, wondering what trouble he had just brought to Briar Ridge by equipping his favorite menace with a Louisville Slugger. \"Glad ya like it. Then after dinner, let's take it outside and see that arm of yours in action. There's gotta be somethin' we can use as a ball.\" As a tanner Bo could probably fashion some little baseball from scraps of leather he had lying around."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Akira was more than excited to try out her new toy. Perhaps to some her childlike wonder would be puzzling as she was getting closer to her thirties. On top of that, a huge part of her had the feeling she wouldn't make it to winter. Still, even in the face of death, she would try to make the most of her time on Earth. She found love, she partied, she got to travel on a boat from the other side of the world, she got to still keep some people in her life.\n\nBecause of little moments like these, Aki still had reasons to fight, to find her humanity although the full moon betrayed her. She'd get to see Bo one last time. \n\n\n\"I don't have one myself but...\" The woman pondered, tapping her chin with the top of the bat. Would missing an arm stop her? Of course not, getting a ball was more important. \"Nothing wrong with rolling up a bunch of socks! Or maybe I should ask Kela if his lil Lani got one...\" \n\nBut now, Aki had to keep her mind distracted with her next task. She didn't even finish her own coffee when she disappeared into the kitchen. \"Let me get you something, first!\" \n\nNow, Akira tried her hand at cooking. At one point in her life she could had been considered a kitchen hazard, but ever since her mother passed away in her teens, she and her father split their tasks evenly when it came to getting something in their bellies. She still couldn't be trusted with baking cookies, or be left alone with a casserole, but she could crack some eggs to do a decent omelet at the very least. If only she had more ingredients available, she'd make them just like aunts back in Japan made them. \n\n\"I'm glad to see you back, Bobo, really.\" Aki added, her expression softening as she started beating the eggs, making sure to keep the bowl in place as she clearly began to get used to her new life with one less limb, a sigh escaped from her throat as she had to readjust herself to keep prepping the meal. \n\n\"I hope this town treats you well, a lot has changed...\""
},
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "Bo took a moment to drink another sip of his coffee before getting up from his seat and following Aki into the kitchen. He could hardly stand to watch her twist and turn, this way and that, while trying to figure how best to handle something that should be so easy that had suddenly become a lot more difficult. As veteran, though, Bo knew better than to insist on doing it himself. \n\nThis was a victory Aki needed to earn herself. \n\nSo he just stood nearby and watched, sipping his coffee like a good little houseguest and refilling his mug when the coffee ran low. He didn't drink the stuff often but it was nice to have it every once in awhile. He couldn't tell you much anything about blends or brews, and maybe the Hirano family couldn't either, but Bo swore their coffee always tasted the best. \n\n\"My house wasn't too rough,\" Bo supposed he had Alg to thank for that, actually, \"And I got to meet some new faces.\" Well, Aki didn't need to know the complications that came with seeing Algernon again. Bo cleared his throat as he inched away from that spot of conversation. \"Besides the... Werewolf attack, what else is worth learnin'? Yer Pops doin' okay? You said he was out with some friends, so that seems the usual for 'im. What about Jade?\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "In times like these, after losing so much of herself, being able to get up in the morning and make some eggs was indeed a victory she had come to earn herself. Akira was proud of it, really, as her biggest current dream was to simply regain control for as long as she was allowed to live. It was the control of her life that it had been stripped away from her, both from the Full Moon's betrayal and the consequences that came with it. \n\nMaking dinner, helping to find the cure, fighting her own hunger for months. This was part of her self imposed redemption. \n\n\"Papa is doing... A bit tired.\" Aki sighed as she poured the mixture into a pan. To say he was tired was an understatement, it wasn't physical exhausted that came with his age, it was poison in his heart. Ever since the founding of the anti werewolf coalition, Akira had seen her own father grow weary and spiteful, he began to get his hands on bullets and an extra gun, he began to take guard duty in his own porch when Akira was around. Mako, being an old man, was getting ready to fight a war he never asked for, against his own neighbors.\n\nBut he chose his side already to not betray his own blood. Akira understood, for if she were in his position, she'd do the same. \n\n\"His backpain has been getting better at least, I just wanna make sure he doesn't get too fond of opium y'know..\" She chuckled, moving the pan get a good shape on the omelet.\n\nThe mention of Jade made Aki's cheeks turn red, her smile grew. \n\n\"Ah... So you know about her!\" She said. Of course Bo would know about her by now, she ran the local library after all. \n\n\"How do I say this hmm..\" Bashfully, the woman rubber the scar on her cheek. \"So... Bobo, remember the stories you told me of you in the trenches? Y'know... With some of the other men?\" \n\nThat was a good way to start it."
},
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "Tired, huh? Mr. Hirano was getting to that age. He wasn't exactly a spring chicken when Bo met the family for the first time; a year apart could do a lot to a man of his advanced age. Bo made a mental note to check at the house more frequently until he got a chance to see the old man himself and clock how he was doing. Backpain could manifest in a number of different ways and none of them were pleasant. Hell, even *Bo* Was starting to feel pain in his lower back when he was bent over for too long. \n\nBo ran his free hand down the line of his lower back with empathy in his heart and pressed his fingers into that *One* Spot where the pain always flared. Sorry, Mr. Hirano. Maybe it was a bit presumptuous for Bo to go around calling *Anyone* Old.\n\n\"Tell me if you need more help around.\" Came Bo's quick response. He had already helped patch the roof, mend the henhouse, extend the fields, and everything in between so at least Bo felt confident that his worth was well established. \"You know I'll do just about anything for some extra eggs.\" \n\nThere was more to say about it but the instant Aki started to talk about Jade, Bo shut his mouth real quick. So his intel was right — Aki found herself a sweetheart while Bo was gone. And here she was, working up the courage to tell him! Good news in turn with the bad was always a blessing. Bo watched Aki gather her thoughts, hiding shit-eating grin in his coffee mug. \"I remember talkin' the night away with stories like that, m'hm.\" He answered, vague enough for Aki to use as needed. \n\n||"
}
] | 369 | 5,026 |
203.8 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "Time had passed since that fated night. The night that Lorelai had let the alcohol get to her and she'd let a beautiful woman fall into her bed; they'd touched each other's souls and then... Well, nothing. Akira had fled her apartment and they'd hardly spoken since. To say that it was a distraction from her work was an unfortunate understatement. She hated to be unprofessional. She hated slipping up, but her mind was occupied. Was she simply another stepping stone in Akira's line of conquests? How unfortunate. \n\nSo how had she found herself on the Hirano porch? Well, Mako had approached her specifically; Aki was sick and needed some care at home. She was too sick to even get out of bed and come for an appointment. Lorelai had been too worried and frazzled to have thought to say no, and... Well. \n\nShe hesitated and lifted her hand to knock on the door. What if this was a trap? What if Aki had told her father everything— and he was out to get her for deflowering his precious daughter? Lorelai felt like she might just faint."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "No more drinks. No more dances. No more heavy lifting. No more messing around with the ladies.\n\nAkira was a mess of blankets her body became one with the mattress underneath her. The chills hadn't stopped, the fever was still high, and her throat was dry and aching. \n\nBut despite everything, Akira was at peace. Having told her father one of her deepest secrets was one weight off her shoulders, just enough to at least finally get one night's sleep for the first time since the full moon.\n\nBut alas, both she and her father knew they couldn't do this alone. Poor old man Mako had to tend to his daughter while he was still dealing with his own joint pains. Now they were both waiting for their assistance. \n\nAki was unaware that behind the door Lorelai was shaking like a leaf, fearing for her own safety. As if Mako would somehow come out of the little home screaming while wielding a gun, or, in a more traditional sense, wielding a Japanese katana or yari spear like an ashigaru on the battlefield. \n\nInstead, the aging old man opened the door to greet the nurse with his usual warm smile, and the same gentle mannerisms that was also present in his daughter.\n\n\n*\"Come on in, she just woke up!\"* Akira would hear her father at the front door. She took a deep breath and turned over just to get a good feeling of the cool side of the mattress, hearing the chatter coming closer.\n\n*\"I'm going to be in town to get anything else she may need. I trust you'll take care of her, Ms Roswell.\"* \n\nIt was at the mention of that name, that Aki's eyes widened. *Oh God, oh fuck. *\n\nIt would've been the first time Akira was able to speak to Lorelai ever since *Then*. Just the memory of it was enough to turn her face into a tomato.\n\nBut now what? What was she supposed to do? The steps were getting closer. *Oh shit.*\n\n\"Akiiii~\" Mako opened the door lightly. \"I'll be out for a while, okay? Ms Roswell will take care of you\"\n\nAnd now her father talked to her. There went away the idea of pretending to be\n\nAsleep.\n\n\"Umm... Okay, thank you, dad, she may come in..!\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She was surprised to find no animosity and only kindness in Mako's face. Perhaps he really didn't know— that had to be the reason she wasn't being flayed right now. She politely nodded along with Mako's words, mind spinning and unable to speak. She thought she might just die right here. Why had she agreed? Why hadn't she just passed this off to one of her colleagues? \n\nBut there she was, with her bag and her hair pinned up and her pristine uniform, ready to tend to the woman she'd held close not so long ago. \n\nMaybe she wanted answers. Maybe she wanted to be close to her again. Maybe she just wanted to help people— even Akira, who she was sure didn't want to see her. She sucked in a breath and bid Mako farewell before she stepped into the room. \n\n\"Miss Hirano,\" She said softly, putting her bag down on the table. \"How're you feeling?\" She asked, not looking at her and instead, rummaging around in her bag to make herself busy."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Was Mako unaware of what happened? Chances were, Akira didn't get to tell him. She just recently was able to tell her father about her attraction to women, about wanting a wife and her fears. She wouldn't dwell into who she slept with just yet.\n\nBut there she was, facing the reality at her doorstep, acting professional as if nothing ever happened.\n\n\"Hi..\" Aki greeted from her pitiful position in the bed, unable to move and her face so red it was hard to tell if it was because of her fever or her embarrassment. \n\n\"I've... Had better days.\" She chuckled, coughing a little in the end as she tried to focus more on the ceiling rather than the nurse looking for things in her back. \n\n\"Woke up the other day with the worst flu imaginable...\" \n\nYeah right, a flu. Whatever illness came to Aki, it felt like dying. Nightmares plagued in her slumber, her body protested every time she'd try to get up, only to still end up bedridden for hours, her fever didn't get any better.\n\nAki was a mess, and it showed despite smiling through her pain. \n\n\"I-I promise I wasn't workin', though! I been takin' plenty of rest!\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "Poor Aki. She sounded awful; she seemed lethargic, her cough sounded wet and like she had phlegm in her lungs, and she looked flushed. Lorelai needed to suck it up; Aki was sick, she needed to be cared for. \n\n\"Plenty of rest,\" She repeated, taking a seat by the bed and brushing the sweaty stands of hair off her forehead so she could properly feel it. \"We're going to try and break your fever,\" She told her. \"Have you eaten today?\" \n\nShe was already setting about getting some medicine from her bag. \"I've got a cough syrup that should help with your cough...\" She said, pouring the thick liquid onto a spoon and sitting on the edge of the bed. How familiar this was, seeing Aki flushed like this— she needed to pull her mind from the gutter! This poor woman needed her, and all she could think about was the last Tim they were alone together! \n\n\"I'll be here as long as ya need me,\" She promised her softly. \"I'll fix you up right as rain so yer pa don't worry too much.\" And all honesty, she was worried. She wanted to just hold her until the aches and pains stopped, but she knew she couldn't just do that. She would make do with caring for her, applying a cool rag to her forehead and spoon feeding her the medicine."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Uhm... I had soup today..\" Said Akira, a reasonable response from someone bedridden. Soup was all she ate in the morning and at noon, it wasn't like Aki wasn't hungry, she was _starving_, but everything else she attempted to eat, it would go right back. Such a shame for someone with an appetite as big as Aki's, for a small woman she sure needed her nutrients. \n\n\"Can't eat anything else right now..\" \n\nAnd now she had a spoonful of syrup right in front of her. That was a great way to not think about sharing a bed and touching each other's bodies, even if flashes of that night came whenever Akira glanced over Lorelai. Quickly, her eyes turned to the spoon, and took in all its contents. \n\nAki grimaced as she felt the thick liquid roll down her throat, bitter and sweet at the same time. She let out a small cough, not because of her irritated throat, but because of the _ strong flavor_. \n\nHer baggy and exhausted eyes met with Lorelai's again. God, she felt so pathetic, the fact that the nurse had to watch it all didn't make it better.\n\n\"Ahh...\" She exhaled deeply after swallowing. \"Hate that ya gotta see me like this, though. It seems like everytime we meet, I'm either hurt or in need to be saved'. \""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She quickly moved to get her a cup of water from the pitcher nearby. She brought it to her side, urging her to drink to soothe the cough in her throat. \"Let me make you something heartier,\" She suggested. \"Please. I insist. I'll make you a soup my mama used to make when us youngins were sick as dogs back in the day.\" She smoothed her hands out over her uniform as she sat on the edge of the bed. \n\n\"I've seen ya worse,\" Lorelai reminded Aki. \"I mean, I done seen you trying to escape the hospital, torn to shreds, wanting to go back to work in the field.\" She tucked hair behind her ear, a loose strand that had come out of her tight bun. \n\nShe paused a moment and folded her hands. \"If ya want me to get a different nurse, I swear I'll understand. I know it must be mighty awkward for ya.\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Of course Lorelai had seen worse, including Akira trying to flee the hospital after a near death experience with the damn beasts. She chuckled as she remembering it. \n\n\"With spring soon... I outta be feeling better.\"\n\nBut then, the unavoidable topic came out. Akira shook her head.\n\n\"No, no.. It's fine. You're doing your job...!\" She waved her hand. \"If anything, I thought you was mad or something like that...\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "\"Mad at you?\" She was surprised, shaking her head. \"No, not... Not mad at you at all,\" She said softly. \"If anything... I was just sad,\" She admitted as she stood up, moving about the room and trying to make herself busy. \n\n\"But that's my problem, ya see? I just— I ain't used to all these things with... Ladies,\" She said softly and glanced to Aki for a moment. \"I ain't ever... I ain't been good with just kissing people willy-nilly, much less... What we did.\" \n\nLorelai tapped her fingers on the table idly. \"And honest to God, I think you're swell,\" She said quietly. \"I just... Guess I ain't used to gettin' my hopes up,\" She turned back to Akira now, pulling her shoulders back to try and look confident. \n\n\"Now, I won't make things weird for ya by piling on all my emotional nonsense, so I should prolly go on and make you somethin' to eat to keep yer strength up.\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Sad...?\" Akira whispered. Of course she had to hurt someone in the end, hadn't she? The same fear she talked about when she told her father one of her many truths, one of her many layers. \n\n\"I wasn't used to doing this either...\" She admitted. \"I jus' do it now...\"\n\n'*Because it's all I'm good for*' \n\nA phrase Akira repeated to herself again and again in her thoughts, before going to bed, after every encounter at the speakeasy. \n\nSwell? Getting her hopes up? Aki's couldn't look at the nurse. \n\n\"Please do make some for yourself as well..\" She said to appear to be unaffected. \"There isn't lot in the kitchen but hopefully it can be useful for ya..\" \n\nIt was the least she could do. If only she could get up from that bed."
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She felt a twisting, sinking feeling in her stomach. Perhaps she should've kept quiet, pretending it never happened. That would've been easier; would've hurt less. Of course, Aki was used to this kind of thing. It must've been so normal, and here Lorelai was, getting all upset. How foolish, how stupid. \n\n\"I'll see what I can do,\" She said quietly, stepping out of the room and leaning on the wall a moment. How unprofessional, getting emotional on the job! \n\nShe sucked in a shaky breath and went to the kitchen. She managed to pull together some vegetables and what looked like leftover beef, throwing it into a pot to cook. Something with a little more than broth would be good for the patient, keep her healing. She wouldn't heal as well on an empty stomach. \n\nShe stared into the soup pot as she stirred, giving a weak sniffle. She just felt so silly, acting like that back there. She wished she could rewind time, keep from opening her mouth at all."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Sweet Lorelai, Akira still remembered the night, still pondering as she helplessly laid in bed. She didn't just remember how it ended up, but it was how it began that hit her the most.\n\nTheir shared experience with loneliness, the pain and the pressure of feeling like having to comform and marry any man to just not die alone.\n\nFinding any husband... Was that something Lorelai could do really? Was that something Aki needed to do as well?\n\n_'I couldn't regret ya.'_\n\nThat phrase Lorelai told Akira, those words had been stuck in her head ever since.\n\n The worst side of her said of course the nurse would regret Aki.\n\nBut then, the smell of food distracted her. \n\n\"That... Smells pretty good.\" Her weak voice echoed in the house, hoping she could be heard from here."
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She couldn't help but think... Maybe it really was time to throw in the towel. She was nearly thirty— maybe it was time to stop playing silly little games and... Grow up. Maybe she could just be happy by herself, though it did sound awfully lonely. God, she was lonely. How sad was that? \n\nShe was snapped from her thoughts by Akira's voice. It was so soft but she heard it, and she dropped the spoon to come rushing back. \"Are you alright?\" She asked her, hand bracing the door as she stood there. \"I thought I heard you speak, wanted t' make sure you was alright...\" \n\nShe came closer to the bed and twisted her hands together a bit. \"Lunch is almost ready, you think you got enough strength to sit on up?\" She offered her a hand for assistance."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Akira giggled from her pitiful position on the bed.\n\n \"Whatever is on the fire ..It smells real nice. \" \n\nThe woman then turned over as Lorelai extended her hand, her glance gave a quick glance at her body and sighed. She needed the help, thus she took the nurse's hand for the first time since...\n\n\"I need... Help for that..\" Akira let her body be pulled forward, using her other arm to stay in place. \n\nThank the heavens Akira was dressed up. Granted, her outfit was far from the nightgown Lorelai gave her on that night, she wore a simple sleeveless shirt and pants, too big for her yet comfortable. Her scars were in full display this way, but Aki assumed Lorelai was used to seeing them by then. \n\n\"Heh... Haven't had this much difficulty movin' since that one time them beasts got a bite of me.\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She used her strength to pull her up into a sitting position, hands clasped tight as she did. The blanket fell away and her eyes glanced about the exposed skin of her arms and the peek of shoulder. Her cheeks warmed as she recalled, well, *Everything.* \n\nShe knew Akira far more intimately than she ever had before. It was such a strange thing, wasn't it? She let go of Aki's hand to adjust the pillows behind her so she could properly sit up with the support. \n\n\"Let's not have another incident like that, huh?\" She said softly. \"If you up and get hurt on us again, what'll we do?\" She teased gently. \"A little accident prone, ain't ya?\" She tucked some hair behind her ear and took a step back. \"Soup's on. Let me get ya some,\" She excused herself to the fire, ladling some into a bowl and returning shortly. \n\n\"You don't need me t' hand feed ya, right?\" She joked."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Hehe... I guess I have a bit of a bad luck..\" Akira chuckled. Some people would say she was *Cursed* With the way she'd wake up in the middle of the night screaming. Everything in her life was a mess, she could only pretend everything was otherwise alright.\n\nBut at least she was able to sit up, she needed the help but her body was able to stay straight with the pillows. \n\n\"You don't gotta though!\" Aki added, catching a glance of the bowl. Her mouth started watering and she could only hope the food would stay in her stomach. \n\n\"Oh... You added meat in it...\" Her small, shaky hand looked for the spoon, picking it up with difficulty."
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "\"I hope that was alright. It was just scraps from the ice box but I figured it was... Something,\" She said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching as Aki struggled to pick up the spoon. \n\n\"Yer gonna dribble that all over yourself if you do it,\" She said softly, taking the spoon from her hands. She scooped up a bite of soup and held it out, holding it steady. \n\n\"I know it might be a bit... Silly but it ain't an inconvenience to me, honest.\" She promised. \"And it ain't too hot, neither.\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"I can do it! I can do it!\" Akira tried to fake confidence as she tried to take a good spoonful of the soup. Her hands shaked as her exposed skin began to shiver due to the still rampant fever. \n\nGod, that was pathetic, the woman tried with all her might to fight against her own tremors to keep the food in place, only for it to shake it a little. With a defeated sigh, she put it back on the bowl, with some drops over herself and the blanket.\n\n\n\"....Okay maybe I need help...\" Akira whined."
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "\"I know you do, ya stubborn thing.\" She chastised her, holding the spoon out insistently to her with the bite of soup on it. \"Just listen t' me for a second, will ya?\" \n\nLorelai shook her head and shifted closer, wiping up the dropped food on Akira's blanket. \"Y' don't have to be independent when I'm here... I'm here t' take care of ya, Aki,\" She said softly. How familiar those words must've been. \n\n\"Yer as stubborn as a mule, Akira,\" She said, though the words were far more fond than she intended for them to sound."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Akira did exactly as she was told and listened to Lorelai, like a dog being trained how to behave after accidentally biting someone's hand while play fighting, or eating dinner's left overs. She took the bite, immediately her eyes lit up at the explosion of flavors. \n\n\"Woah...\" \n\nAkira focused on her meal, but the nurse's words didn't go unnoticed.\n\n\"Hmmm...\" She hummed after taking a second bite. \"Guess it's hard to not be... Times are hard and I just wanna protect my pa. I hate being useless.\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She felt a burst of pride at Akira's delight over the food. She kept feeding her bites, waiting for her to chew and swallow before feeding another spoonful. \n\n\"Well ya gotta rest up,\" She told her. \"Otherwise, y'aint gonna get any better to protect yer pa. Understand?\" She raised an eyebrow. \"I want ya to just rest... Let me take care of everything for ya.\""
},
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "\"I know this is your job..\" Akira said, trying to use a trembling hand to clean up any soup left over from the corners of her mouth. \n\n\"But it's more complicated than that, I think. I don't know what to do when you or other people are showing this much support.\" \n\nWell, with Lorelai particularly it was hard after what happened betw the two women. But Akira decided to push the memory back, and took another spoonful of the soup. \n\n\"I do appreciate your kindness though.. Please never forget that, okay?\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She hesitated before she nodded, feeding her another bite of soup. She dropped her gaze to the bowl in her hand. \"Yeah, sure thing. Won't forget it,\" She mumbled to herself, stirring the soup idly. \n\n\"Yer a friend,\" She said softly. \"So of course I care about ya a little more than my normal patients,\" She held out another spoonful of soup to Akira. \"And I'm sorry about the last time,\" She said. \"I shouldn't have... I think it was a mistake, cuz look at how it's made us behave after. Wont even look me in the eye,\" She said, with a soft, sad laugh. \"I'm sorry.\""
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Apologizing. A mistake, Akira felt the pit on her stomach before taking another bite. \n\nShe sighed before leaning in, cursing herself for acting the way she did. Her life was on the line, her future was uncertain, every decision she made led to people getting hurt, innocent people. \n\nHow selfish of her. She hurt her father, she hurt the people of Briar Ridge, she hurt Lorelai. \n\nEven though Akira braced herself for the potential regret Lorelai would feel after that night, her heart still ached. \n\n\"I think the one who should apologize is me... I should've had more control over myself...\" \n\nControl, the thing Akira hadn't have in her life for months. \n\n\"I'm your friend, yet I treated you like this... What kind of friend am I..?\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She shook her head and gave a weak sniff. \"No, it ain't like that,\" She said softly. \"I don't regret what happened between us,\" She said. \"I don't regret laying with you. It was lovely, I enjoyed myself,\" Lorelai took a deep breath. \n\nShe was tired of being disappointed and hurt. She was scared to love again— and here she was, falling right back into that same old habit. She really liked Akira, but it was clear the woman wasn't interested in anything more than a single night. How stupid could she be, to think someone could want anything more from her? \n\n\"Don't worry your head about it none,\" She said quickly. \"I just think we ought to put the whole thing behind us,\" Her voice wavered and she cleared her throat, trying to stave off the emotions. \n\n\"Im just a little emotional, maybe I'm just tired,\" She said, holding out the soup spoon to her again. \"Please, eat.\" She couldn't make eye contact with her."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "'content warning: internalized homophobia ' \n\nAkira bit her lower lip, hard enough to almost make it bleed. What the hell was she doing with her life, now? Coming to Briar Ridge was supposed to be a new start half a decade ago, but it seemed like misery followed her wherever she went.\n\nShe broke everything she touched, she was confirmed of that fear months ago.\n\n\"I don't regret it either.\" Aki said, clearing her throat as she tried to fix a smile. \" It's just... Like I said, I can't have that luxury right now.\"\n\nLove was a luxury in Aki's eyes. As she saw men and women holding hands and kissing, celebrating their marriages, the families they'd create together, the world celebrated them. Then, it was the same world that would turn around and tell her she was disgusting, an abomination, deformed. The circumstances of Briar Ridge made it even harder. \n\nAkira envied them, she envied those who could conform. \n\nShe felt disgusting, she felt like an abomination, she felt like a beast chewing on whatever crumbs of affection she could get... If only she could understand her father's words...\n\n\"I do think it's for the best, though. I can't give more than what I've already given.\"\n\nAkira couldn't give her love to any woman. She wasn't worth it, she was too much of a risk. To ruin Lorelai's life, anyone's life, was something she couldn't live with. \n\nHer voice almost broke as words came out of her mouth, her eyes burned as she made an attempt to focus on her meal.\n\nAkira took another bite, a big one, using the strength on her jaw to pulverize the meat as if it belonged to another person's. She was angry, but at whom..?\n\nThe world? Herself? Both at the same time?"
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "*Stupid.* Stupid girl, getting her head full of dreams. Maybe she was desperate to be loved; she felt like she wanted to just run and hide. How embarrassing; Akira must've thought she was a fool. \n\n\"Course yer right,\" She said, focusing on the bowl. She had a lump in her throat and she focused very hard on the movement of her hand with the spoon. It was mechanical; she didn't speak as she continue to feed Akira, because that was her job. She couldn't back out of a job; she could just cry later, in the privacy of her own home. \n\nShe didn't know why she was so upset; she had liked Akira, yes. But it felt like more than that. Maybe it was another rejection, or maybe it was because this felt like her last leap. She wasn't sure anyone would love her ever; was she destined for a life of loneliness? Was she so unlovable? \n\nShe looked into the mostly-empty bowl and cleared her throat. \"I should go on and clean up the kitchen while you get some rest,\" She said to her."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "If anyone in that room was a fool, it had to be Akira. Fool because every decision she made ended up with people being hurt, she was a fool for having tried to play the hero and failing so miserably, for thinking she could protect those in this godforsaken town.\n\nAnd Akira was still a fool. She hadn't given up on her life just yet. Her hope was a thin thread that was kept together by a handful of people in her life who begged her to stay breathing. \n\nBut she couldn't be fool enough to believe in love. Lorelai deserved something better than her. Her lips moved as she wanted to say those words so badly, but nothing came out, the phrase remained burnt in her mind as the nurse walked away. \n\n_You deserve something better. I can only cause you pain._\n\nAkira nodded in silence instead, collapsing on her bed like the pathetical animal she was. \n\n\"Fuck..\" She whispered, allowing herself to shed some tears for what it could've been."
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She had gotten up and left the room; her hands gripped the counter and she held in all the emotions that threatened to pour out of her. She sniffled; Lorelai was a sensitive soul, but she liked to retain a professional manner when working. She was having a very difficult time with it, clearly. \n\nShe cleaned up the kitchen and set about doing little tasks to help; cleaning up some of the common areas, doing the laundry— she just wanted to keep her mind off of how painful everything felt. \n\nShe felt raw, exposed. Lorelai couldn't feel more like an idiot if she tried. How could she begin to think anyone in this world would love her? She was a clumsy nurse with little prospect— how foolish. As she hung the clothes on the line, she felt her stomach twist. She hoped Mako would be back soon."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "With how little she could do about the situation, with how much she kept hurting people with every decision she made, Akira was only short to spiral into her darkest thoughts. \n\nLove was a concept she had to abandon, there was no way to think otherwise. But even then, being _alive_ was hard for Aki. \n\nConnections, attachments, all of that could be put away right in an instant as the storm within her heart grew larger. There was only one person in the world who could stop it, as he did many times before.\n\n\"I'm back~\"\n\nIt was her father.\n\nAki was too weak to move from her bed, as she could only listen to the exchange between Lorelai and him.\n\n\"Sorry to take this long, Miss Roswell, these bones aren't the same they used to be!\" He said with that large smile of his that could light up even the darkest nights. \n\nHe was the light in Akira's life, the only reason she was still standing despite it all, it stopped her quiet sobbing, it stopped her intrusive thoughts, even if it was just for a moment.\n\n\"Let me know if you need anything.\" He said to the nurse. \"And once again... Thank you for helping me take care of my daughter. God knows I can't do it on my own now.\""
}
] | 192.5 | 6,114 |
396.833333 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Alma knocked three times. One, two, pause, three. It was a small tradition of hers whenever she was visiting the Hirano's residence. Well, it was in her mind anyway. A silly, self-imposed signature that she'd come up with when the Hirano's had first moved into town and now she couldn't quite get rid of it. \n\nUsually her arms would be laden with freshly baked bread and a jar or two of shine. Today, though, the only thing she brought was herself. Even Dog was missing. She was bundled up against the cold. A long scarf was securely wrapped around her neck and a hand knit hat was pulled down over her ears. She'd left her hair down so it wouldn't interfere. Even so, she felt strangely naked as she stood there without a single gift to give. \n\nIt felt wrong. \n\nWilliam Cooper's friendship with the Hirano's had the families sharing dinners with one another more times than she could count. Akira and Alma's friendship was borne by circumstance, but that didn't lessen their bond. And, God, did she feel *Awful* About her friend. Aki had been attacked by that beast on Alma's very own bedroom floor. She'd heard the way Aki's bones had crunched under its powerful jaws and she'd been too paralyzed to do anything. Had it not been for Maeve and one of Rhett's aunts, how long would Alma have stood there and watched as Aki was ripped to pieces? Would she still be alive? Would Mako ever forgive her? Was Mako angry with her family for *Not* Protecting his daughter? Did Aki think less of her for freezing up the way she did?\n\nAlma: Worse yet, Alma hadn't visited. \n\nShe'd been so wrapped up in finding her vengeance that she hadn't even noticed Aki was missing from the picture until she was going through a mental roster of who might be best suited to help from town. Aki's name was plucked from her memories and she'd realized *She'd failed* Her. \n\nSo now she stood empty handed, freezing, and prepared to beg for her and her father's forgiveness for being an awful friend. \n\nIf they'd even bother to open the door. \n\n\"Aki?\" She called, lowering the scarf so that her voice wouldn't be muffled. \"Are you home?\""
},
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "Despite her father's pleas, Akira decided to stay outside for the night of the full moon. How could she still not be afraid after almost getting devoured by the beasts? A sense of revenge or duty, perhaps? Was she in condition to fight? Whatever the reason she had, Mako couldn't disagree more. There was a rift in the family, one which lasted until dawn the following day.\n\nNeither of them slept that night, as the both father and daughter felt riddled with guilt, expecting the worst outcome. \n\nMako couldn't see his daughter anywhere in the morning,, as he waited for her to return with the rest of the hunters. Minutes became dreadful hours and it wasn't until close to noon that Aki came back, just as he was about to seek the help of the rest of the town to look for her.\n\nTo say that their reunion was emotional was an understatement. After tearful apologies, they returned to the safety of their home. There was no time to dread the next full moon, the family was back again, that was everything that mattered..\n\nThey weren't expecting visitors, if they did, perhaps the family would've cleaned their front yard, as autumn leaves scattered all over. It was Mako who opened the door, he greeted Alma with the same warmth like he's done many times when the Coopers would come over, despite the bangs on his eyes and his restless expression. \n\nThere was no sign of anger or disappointment towards Alma. How could they be mad at one of the few people who welcomed them?\n\nAki, who was in the kitchen, peeked from behind the doorway to hear the chatter.\n\n\"Alma..?\" She finally said from her spot. Her hands were damp, holding one small cup with one of them. Quickly, the woman went inside the room, as some clutter could be heard from that general direction.\n\n\"Come on in..! You must be freezing!\" Mako chuckled. \n\n\"Just gimme a second I'm almost done...!\" Aki yelled from the kitchen. Seconds later, the woman was walking into the living room, rolling her sleeves down. \"S-Sorry for the mess. How are you doing?\" \n\nNo, Aki felt no anger towards her friend, either."
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Mako's familiar kindness was enough to make Alma go weak in the knees. For just a beat, Alma forgot the guilt clawing its way through her chest. His warm, familiar smile and gentle voice was all there was. Then she noticed the dark bags under his eyes. Sure, they could be seen under just about anyone's eyes who'd lived through a full moon, but seeing them on *His* Face for the first time in months made the guilt come back tenfold. \n\nWhen she heard her name, Alma peeked over Mako's shoulder to meet eyes with Aki. Thank the lord. Aki seemed alright. And there was no immediate anger on her face. Alma tried to smile at her as she let herself be guided in from the cold. \n\n\"Thank you so much,\" She murmured quietly as she paused just over the threshold to peel off her hat and her scarf. \"It's been awful cold as of late. I overheard some folks wagerin' when the first snow's gonna be already! I sure hope it ain't till December, though. I'm not ready for the cold and the wet yet.\" \n\nAs Alma tried to fill the void with light conversation for Mako, she began to dutifully unlace her boots. Just the way they'd taught her five years back when they were newcomers to town. She neatly placed them side by side at the front door before daring to take another step inside. \n\n\"Take your time! It's my fault for coming over unannounced!\" Alma called back to Aki as she raked her fingers through her hair in a feeble attempt to tame it after being trapped in that hat. As soon as Aki was back in the room, though, Alma made a beeline for her. She wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug. \"Quit your apologizin' already. I'm doin' fine, thank you.\"\n\nNow, Alma wasn't exactly known for her propensity towards physical affection, but this was most certainly an exception. Aki was not only a good friend, but the last time Alma had seen her, she'd been close to bleeding out on Alma's bedroom floor. She'd half expected to see Aki's arm in some kind of sling, but she seemed *Fine*. Still, Alma took care not to squeeze her too hard where she remembered the beast had sunk its teeth into her. \n\nIt'd take her a moment to pull back and, when she did, she held onto Aki's arms long enough to give her a good once over. \"How are you?\" The polite question was tainted with concern. \"I swear I meant to come and visit you sooner. Especially after... *That*.\" \n\nShe fully pulled away now so she could face Mako dead on. \"I'm so, so sorry I ain't come to y'all yet. Things've been...\" She trailed off, shaking her head. Knowing what the both of them must've been through from her own experience recovering from an attack, her gut told her she didn't need to finish that sentence."
},
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "Just as unexpected as her visit, Alma surprised Aki with a warm hug. This made her freeze for a moment, but it was short enough for her little startle to go unnoticed.\n\n Much like her friend, Akira wasn't used to physical affection, but she accepted the embrace in the end as she returned the favor the best way she could. Her recovery surprised everyone, but she could still feel the aftermath of that night whenever she'd attempt to move her affected arm in a specific way. The pain was numb and bearable, the only way one could notice she even had that kind of injury was if someone were to see the gnarly scar that the beast left on her, \n\nBut to the outside world, Aki was okay. The only visible marks on her were two fresh scars across her face. More specifically on her left cheek and the bridge of her nose. \n\n\"Well, I'm in one piece!\" She chuckled after breaking the hug, she extended both arms to show that she was in fact alive.\n\n\"Oh, no no, dear. It's okay.\" Mako was quick to interject. As he stood near her, he gestured his hands to take a seat on the sofa nearby. \n\n\"You've been going through a lot, yourself.\" Akira followed, as her expression softened. \"Heard you've been real busy trying to find the source of all these attacks, it's quite admirable to be honest.\""
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Alma was shaking her head 'no' even as she let go of Aki's arms to obey Mako's silent request. She sank into the familiar couch and was immediately enveloped by the familiar smell of cinnamon and incense. Alma could remember long hours spent between Aki and herself sat right there sipping tea and sharing quiet stories while their fathers laughed in the kitchen. It solidified the guilty knot in her stomach. \n\n\"I should have come sooner,\" She doubled down. Her brown eyes were struggling to hold Mako's gaze. It would be so much easier for her to just look at his shoes, but he didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve anything but her best. And neither did Aki. \"Our families have known each other for too many years now for us to have failed you like that. We should have at least come to visit you at the doctor's or somethin'. First, we failed to protect your daughter. Then, we failed to make sure she made it out okay. You both deserved better, n' I don't know how to apologize properly other than comin' here n' hangin' my head in shame.\" \n\nAki's softness made Alma want to run right out that door. They were being too nice. Her hands balled into fists, taking folds of her dark blue skirt with them till her knuckles went white. \"I been tryin' my best,\" She agreed. The words came tumbling out fast and hard. \"After that huntin' party failed, I just knew I had to do somethin' beyond waitin' in these damn houses for somethin' to come n' git us like sittin' ducks. I been pourin' so much of myself into it, though, that I went and forgot the people who I was doin' it for. I'm so sorry, Aki. I hope that the healin' wasn't too bad. Y'all didn't miss out any on the fall harvest 'cause of it, did you?\""
},
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "Aki could repeat again and again that she didn't hold a grudge against Alma. That was the only truth she knew, guilt screamed louder., It was a feeling she knew too well, one that she couldn't even bring herself to reconcile with.\n\n She tried to reassure the other woman with a couple of gentle pats from her good hand, as her father sighed. \n\n\"Oh Alma, dear. Don't be so harsh on yourself. You start to sound like someone I know.\" Mako glanced at his daughter, who gave him an awkward smile in response. \n\n\"Well, sadly I couldn't do much on this fall's harvest.. He's been making sure I don't get to work! Can you believe that?\" Akira laughed, pointing at her old man as he responded in the same way. Laughter was something that was never missing at the Hirano's home. \n\n\"He forced me to stay in bed, he forced me to eat good food and take medicine with awful taste! I feel a lot better and it's his fault!\" The woman's voice then quieted down, staring back at Alma with the same warmth in her eyes that had always been typical of hers. \"Yeah, I feel a lot better.\" \n\n\"And I know what I can do to make Miss Copper feel better.\" Mako said as he marched to the kitchen.\n\n\"I just washed those cups...\" Aki shook her head, whispering in her mother tongue. \" May I also have a cup of tea?\""
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "*Laughter*. \n\nIt made her throat swell up with unwelcome tears, but Alma had long since grown out of being a cry baby. She used to be a dreadful crier growin' up, until she learned just what her emotions could inspire others to do. She knew she would never forget the sound of her brothers' fists haulin' off on the Roosters for making Alma cry. She'd swallowed them down ever since, but, **Damn**, if it wasn't hard to look forgiveness in the eye and keep her face dry. She choked out a mangled laugh. \n\n\"What an outrage! How dare your Papa love you and tend to you so well! Mako, don't you know you're not supposed to give injured daughters a warm bed to sleep in?\" She joined in easy with the teasing. It was warm and familiar and just what she needed to stop feeling like she needed to kiss Mako's feet for forgiveness. \n\n\"Oh?\" Alma looked after Mako's shadow, momentarily lost in the language switch, but she was used to it. And fascinated by it. Although she was a school teacher, foreign language was not something she had a talent for and, thus, it was not included in her curriculum. She didn't even try to understand Aki; it was useless. She just smiled - though it was still a touch shaky - and looked back to her friend. \n\n\"I'm glad you're doin' better. If y'all need any help for the comin' winter, just holler. We've always got flour and sugar to send y'all's way. Papa's thinkin' it's gonna be a... Tight winter for everyone,\" She sighed and forced herself to uncoil her fists. \"Between the coal mines stealin' boys from the farms, the attacks, and the dyin' crops, he's been talkin' 'bout diggin' into the emergency reserves. If you need anything at all, I'm usually up at the Ol' Davis Ruins workin' on that cage after I finish up with the children. \n\n\"It'd be good to see your face around there now that you're feelin' better. Could always use a spot of company. Not that I'm askin' you to help out or anythin'! You only just got better! I just... Miss seein' you is all!\""
},
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "Not being able to work on the farm, having her already sickly father take care of her. With winter right around the corner, Akira's mind felt heavy. Yet, Alma was right, the season to come was going to be difficult for everyone in town. As long as their trust was intact, the community could count on each other. \n\nThe Hirano family wasn't alone facing struggle. \n\n\"I appreciate it, Alma..\" Aki said as she plopped on the chair in front of her friend, grunting in response to the lingering pain on her shoulder, with her good hand gently grabbing the affected area to keep it steady. \n\n\"I miss having you around too, You better believe I'll be showing up there soon!.\" \n\nAs Aki spoke, the mention of the cage caught her attention, making her tilt her head and raise her eyebrows with curiosity resembling a child's. \n\n\"I don't mind helping around, either! At least to keep you in company for emotional support\" She giggled. \"But tell me, what's this... Cage thing I keep hearing about? What are you on about now? Hmm?\""
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "The soft sounds of Mako fiddling around in the kitchen was peaceful. The Hirano's furniture was broken in from years of weary bones from long days toiling in the fields. Aki's voice was at its usual, gentle lilt. If Alma closed her eyes, she wagered she would fall asleep right there if she could unravel herself from the guilt she clung to like a piece of driftwood. It'd be easy to let it go in a place like this; that was the trap of the Hirano's. Every person who walked through their door felt like family, and Alma's arms were feeling awful heavy. She could just sink into the promise of a warm and happy home. No Papa's hiding secrets or Mama's casting worried glances. Just laughter n' love. Like it should be. \n\n\"The cage? Oh, we're buildin' us a werewolf trap,\" She said as if it was the most casual thing that'd ever come out of her mouth. She plucked a couch cushion up and hugged it close to her chest. An old, comforting habit. Her chin came to settle on the top of it as she spoke. \n\n\"I approached Rhett Sterlin' 'bout it a few months back.\" The mere mention of his name brought a small blush to her cheeks. To think of how boldly she'd stepped into his little shack back then. Who would have thought such a tiny, rundown shack would become one of the few places she felt safe and whole in. \"I'd heard tell of his workin' steel up in the city, and asked him if he thought he could make somethin' up for me. Next thing we knew, we'd bit off more'n we could chew and had to go lookin' for help, else it was gonna take us a year or so to finish.\" \n\nShe fiddled with the corner of the couch cushion, absentmindedly running her finger along its seam. \"We're hopin' we kin finish it soon n' show them beasts that we ain't just gonna sit around in safe houses like sheep to the slaughter. We'll catch 'em and make 'em pay for hurtin' everyone. Pay for hurtin' you, Aki.\""
},
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "Curious eyes fixated on Alma as she was so nonchalant about building a cage out of town. A trap for werewolves, at that point a phrase like such sounded typical in Briar Ridge. Yet the idea left the other woman uneasy.\n\nIn silence, holding her breath, Aki's eyebrows raised, noticing how the other woman's cheeks slightly changed in hue when she mentioned the man's name. Usually, she'd be vocal about the way her friends would speak about love interests... But this was different. She got answers, yet in return, she ended up with even more questions. \n\nDid Mayor Cooper know about such plans? Was it her who came up with such an intricate idea? Knowing her friend well enough at that point, Akira assumed it was all her doing. \n\n_\"We'll catch 'em and make 'em pay for hurtin' everyone. Pay for hurtin' you, Aki.\"_\n\nBut despite the confidence and resolution in Alma's words, the Japenese woman felt a chill down her spine, undeserving of such kindness. \n\n\"You don't need to do this for me..\" She finally spoke after taking a deep breath. \n\nHer eyes stopped looking at her friend a while ago at that point, as she now fidgeted with her fingernails on her good hand. The same hand that failed to fire a gun at the beast that attacked her, the same hand that she once used to kill a man before she fled California.\n\n She then sighed.\" What if you get hurt..?\""
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "*\"You don't need to do this for me..\"*\n\n\"I know,\" Alma replied. \"I'm doin' it for me, too.\" \n\nMemories flashed quick through her mind. The sound of wood cracking as the beast's landing destroyed Alma's bed. Aki pinned to Alma's floor. Her blood pooling into the cracks between the floorboards. The same floorboards she used to build forts made of pillows and blankets on to read in. The floor she'd sit on when her Mama would comb and plait her hair before school. The same floorboards she laid on and cried into Dog's fur when she'd first heard her leg would never heal proper again. \n\nNow it was forever stained the same red as Aki's hair in the sunlight. \n\n\"That's okay.\" Alma's own response took her by surprise. Her fingers stopped their mindless trails on Aki's pillow. She sat with that till she swore she heard the soft sounds of water coming to a boil and the whisper of Mako's slippers. \n\n\"It's okay if I get hurt,\" She repeated when she found her voice again. \"They already did it once before and I lived, didn't I? You lived, too. They kin try as many times as they like, but we'll just keep gittin' back up til they cain't hurt no one ever again.\" \n\nIt sounded so simple when she phrased it like that. \n\n\"I'd rather get hurt'n you or anyone else. Not you or Mama or Mako. I wanna make it so that *We* Never have to go through that again. So don't you worry none about me, okay? I'll be fine.\""
},
{
"author": "hawker_hurricane0",
"message": "The fidgeting on her fingers would become more fixated, as if Akira wanted to tear her cuticles. Alma's words, they pierced in ways she couldn't explain. At least, not yet, for the burden of having taken another life years ago was still heavy in the woman's mind. \n\nShe felt undeserving of such kindness, of a friend like Alma, of a life in Briar Ridge. She had failed to defend the only town that welcomed her and her father again and again. Now, she was sitting useless while others were still doing what they could, no matter how beaten or injured they were. \n\nBut the mention of her father's name brought some part of her back to reality, just before her nail would cause any visible red spot on her finger. Aki gently shifted her position on the couch, focusing on the sound of hot water being poured from the kitchen. At that point, she wanted to do anything but to keep hearing Alma's voice.\n\nShe couldn't bear it anymore.\n\n\"I don't deserve a friend like you, Alma.\" Was everything she was able to say, as she gave the other woman a tiny smile. Only the spirits would know how many sorrows that smile was able to hide.\n\n\"And here you go, girls!\" Mako's voice echoed from the kitchen as he quickly marched with a tray.\n\nTea came second as the best way for Aki to distract herself. This was all that she needed to still pretend that everything was fine in Briar Ridge for at least a few days. \n\nHopefully, her heart could still be as malleable and resilient."
}
] | 384 | 4,762 |
812.6 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "`First off, quit worrying your head,` Freddie's letter had said, step one and Florian had already failed. ~~Failure, useless, burden.~~ `There ain't nothing to worry about.` There was so much to worry about. That vision swam before his eyes again, claws crushing beloved bones, flesh torn from adored body. _STOP,_ he ordered his brain, his mind, whatever force had made him see those things. He didn't rightly know how he knew, but those weren't just fears. Just like the dreams of Valerian turning into a jet-black wolf had not been mere nightmares. Florian Angelo Barca was his full name, Angelo, angel, messenger of God. Florian wasn't sure it was God who was showing him those messages, but someone or something was, and Florian had a message that urgently needed delivery.\n\nThe Hirano residence loomed in the distance and Florian felt rocks settle in his abdomen. Would they even want to look at him after what he'd done? Would they chase him off, shoot at him like he may as well have done at them? Aki had been working on the cure, the very cure he'd been doubting. His own friend was a werewolf and he'd sat in her house talking about silver bullets as though they weren't designed to kill her. He'd made wolfsbane poison, not someone else, _him._ That had been all him, his horrid invention, made with help, but his sin in the end. Aki hadn't told him and he'd felt betrayed. Maybe it was really him who had betrayed her, unknowingly, perhaps unwillingly, but a traitor he was. \n_ _\n\nThey were going to find Freddie, they had to, but Florian didn't know if he'd be coming back, and he wanted to see Aki one last time. He had to try to apologize, to atone for his sins. Florian didn't deserve forgiveness, he knew that much, he didn't expect to be granted any kindness at all. Part of him wished the Hiranos would scream at him, to confirm what he already believed to be true, that he was a monster. But he wanted Aki to hear about the events from him and not someone else, he owed her that much, to try to look her in the eye as he delivered what he hoped, begged, prayed, were not Freddie's last words to her. He just hoped that Freddie hadn't come across another wolf, that Aki was still alive. That her blood was not amongst the red staining Florian's hands. It wasn't a noble color, that red, there was no righteousness in it, nor in the sickly black that had rained down on him that January night. In the end it was all the same blood, no matter the shade, no matter the source. It was all the blood of Briar Ridge. Of his home. Of Aki's home.\n\nFlorian felt conflicted; part of him was still so full of rage, but it felt _foreign_ somehow, the rest of him was submerged in sorrow, in grief, in self-hatred and in deep shame. His feelings fought one another inside his heart, a heart that was haphazardly stitched together with thread spun by Olivia Barca. She'd found him there on the ground, sprinted in and reached a hand to him just before he'd sunk into the darkest, most unreachable part of his sea. He'd cried until he had no more tears left. He didn't know how to feel, right now he just felt numb. He was nobody without his family, blood or otherwise. (Mako and Aki had once been family.) There he was, the only remaining living man who he'd looked at as something close to a father: Mako Hirano.\n_ _\n\n\"Mako,\" His voice was weak, rough from crying, he felt his chest tighten as tears threatened to form again. Florian was unstable, incredibly so. \"I-,\" He didn't know what to say. What should he say? _I'm sorry I looked at your daughter and saw a monster. I'm sorry my terror turned to rage and blinded me. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to hold onto my humanity. I'm sorry I came into your house and spoke of killing as if it was a good thing. I'm sorry I created a weapon that could kill your only child. I'm sorry I doubted her without even knowing it was her. I'm sorry I poisoned people in my attempts to love them. I'm sorry that this town has so much hate. I'm sorry I'm here but I have to know. I need to know before I leave._ \"Is she alive?\" His breath shook. _Please let her be alive._"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Home. What was home anymore? Surely these walls didn't feel like it, even though she felt the warm embrace of her father and her mother's presence. This was yet another full moon where she lived, where she had been able to hold her hunger at bay, where she hadn't committed an atrocity. But Jade had been shot, her screams and her begging to be put down like a dog were still fresh in her mind. \n\nJade once told her she couldn't imagine a world without her. Aki? Aki knew what a world without Jade was like, she almost didn't make it out alive.\n\nShe couldn't help but wonder who'd done it, but even if she did know... Was she allowed to be angry?\n\nWas a monster allowed to bare its fangs? When all it had done was to cause terror in the town? No, she couldn't become a monster in front of them, not in human flesh at least. \n\nThe answer, the last piece of the puzzle had been unveiled for her. Akira wasted no time to just keep on working as she took a pencil to write on her diary, a name easily read to many turned into elegant Kana on the paper. \n\nAki remained quiet, with both her legs crossed as she sat on the couch in her living room, stopping herself when she realized she had been biting into her cuticles and more. It was the hunger again, a price to pay for not taking another life. \n\nThey only had a little more than a month left, Alma's rage reminded her of that. \n\nAs Aki heard the knock on the door, she flinched a little. Ever since that day, she had become less excited about having guests. She cowered for a moment, watching her father shuffle across the room to answer, he had a gun and plenty of ammunition. He didn't need silver bullets. \n\n\"....\" There, Mako stood, glancing over the scratched and ruined paint on the wood before turning to Florian. His kind eyes looked hollow and exhausted, ready to fight a war he never asked for. His okasan often talked about how lucky he was to be too young to remember the Boshin War, and now there he was, gettin' old and\n\nTasting it for the first time. \n\nWith not a whole lot to say, the old man searched Florian from head to toe for any kind of weapons he'd be carrying. He had been more than vocal about his views on werewolves, of course he had to make sure his daughter wouldn't go through _that_ again. Not in his home, nor as long as he lived.\n\nOver the corner of his eye, he saw tears forming in the eyes of the youngest of the Barcas, that puzzled Mako, of course, his expression even managed to soften up a little bit. \n\n\"Yes.\" He said. \"She's alive. You didn't get to shoot her\" Part of Mako thought Florian _would've loved to so_, but he bit his tongue.\n\nWhat a relief, ain't it? Not quite yet, as the man crossed both his arms to still act as a human shield between him and the living room.\n\n\"What do you want from her?\" \n\nAkira wasted no time to recognize Florian's voice, even if she faced the back of the doorway from her position in the couch.\n\n\"Flor..?\" She spoke, her voice unchanged by the horrors, something admirable .... Or rather, it was almost scary how unchanged it sounded, how meek her mannerisms still were, it was the same gentle tone that'd turn into howling every full moon. \n\n\"...If he just wants to talk... Let him in.\" \n\nMako sighed, giving the young man room to get inside. He decided stay in the porch, armed to watch over his home, his family, his blood."
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "Aki and Mako had been there for him when both Valerian and Olivia had moved from Briar Ridge, leaving Florian alone. Florian, who feared abandonment and being left alone above all else, had been the one to abandon the Hiranos. He hadn't even known he was doing it. When the werewolves were just monsters, when he was able to pretend that there was not a person hidden deep inside the beast, it had been so easy to turn to killing. But now, he couldn't, not anymore. Perhaps it was weak, that it took his own brother being a werewolf to finally make him realize that the curse didn't discriminate, that it would take and take, that the Barcas were not the exception. Perhaps he was never as kind as people used to describe him, he had been ready to kill for that desperate loyalty to his siblings and to Freddie- _Freddie..._ His love had shot someone, for him, for Florian. That was _his_ fault. And now he was lost in those caves...\n\nFlorian allowed Mako to search him, he was unarmed, the rifle and pistol both had been placed in a crate in their shed. He sighed in relief when Mako told him Aki was alive, the remark about him shooting her stung like no other. He deserved it. He would have shot her had her wolf broken into the Lovejoy cabin, he knew he would have. He still didn't know how to navigate things next full moon, part of him just wanted those wolves to rip him apart. \"I want to talk, to apologize, to-\" His voice caught in his throat, Aki's voice came from inside the house. _Flor..._ How could she call him by a nickname, a sign of affection, after all he'd done? He suddenly felt hate inside him, along with disgust. There was a rage that wasn't his, he loved Aki and Mako like family, he didn't feel this way towards them, he knew he didn't. Then why did he feel such malice now? He rolled across the threshold and suddenly felt the anger leave again. _What on earth is goin' on with me..._\n_ _\n\nThere he was, inside the house where he'd spent so much time the first time Valerian left. This time he didn't come bearing anger or resentment, this time he came bearing sorrow and sins. He didn't understand why Aki was so calm. He didn't understand why Mako hadn't screamed at him to get out of his sight. Perhaps they were just better people than Florian could ever hope to be. He had believed he'd been doing the right thing, but looking at Aki now, thinking of Valerian, he couldn't have been more wrong. Demanding blood for blood wasn't justice. Revenge would not fix any of this. How easily terror corrupts a mind...\n\n\"Aki...\" He started, unsure where to even begin. \"I-\" Tears formed in his eyes. \"I'm so sorry for who I've become.\" He couldn't even look her in the eyes, all he felt was shame and heartbreak. \"For what I've said, for hurtin' you. I know it's much too late now, and I know I ain't deservin' of none of your forgiveness but I-\" He couldn't hold the tears back anymore. \"Aki I ain't never regretted somethin' more.\" He'd placed a death sentence on his brother, he'd gotten Freddie attacked, he'd betrayed one of his closest friends. Florian Barca, once kind and gentle, was a traitor. \"It's, it's Freddie,\" He stuttered. \"I'm goin' ta bring him home, I have to, but he-he left a letter, there was a note for you, I need to-I need to tell you.\" He probably didn't make much sense to Aki, rambling as he was, but Florian hadn't been thinking straight since the full moon. Thinking about Freddie out there, it broke him. \"I-I wrote it down, I wrote-\" It was just one line of text, but Florian had feared he wouldn't be allowed into the house. A trembling hand held out a small piece of paper. \n`I'm sorry we never got to have that tea party.` Words he feared were amongst Freddie's last. \"I never wanted to hurt you, Aki, and neither did he.\"\n\n|| he's all sorts of messed up I fear"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Akira was fixated on her diary, but only momentarily after Florian got inside. She looked up, only to meet with the eyes of someone stripped away of their hatred, replaced by anguish and horror, two kinds of poison. The woman sat there, listening to the poor man's broken words as they tried to make sense. No, something changed.\n\nShe blinked a few times. What on Earth happened to him? Freddie? Did something happen to him? Did he get attacked in their safehouse? \n\n'I'm so sorry for who I've become.' Becoming what, exactly? Florian's hatred against her kind were more than justified, wasn't it? Akira was no human, she was a traitor who became an asset to Briar Ridge, a pawn in a bigger puzzle to find the cure, a poor attempt for her to redeem her own sins. \n\nAkira looked at the piece of paper, her head tilting before she grabbed it. \n\n\" Florian. I am a threat, I know that fact after being told multiple times, after being branded a traitor, after being this... Thing for almost nine months, I know I can't be near the rest of the town. You wanted to get rid of all of us, didn'tcha? What made you change your mind so suddenly?\" \n\nHer words didn't come with resentment despite how sharp they were. Akira was simply laying out a fact, backed up by evidence of all the destruction she and the pack had brought upon. She didn't deserve to be angry, nor cry like Alma or Florian did.\n\nDidn't Aki have people to return home to after each full moon? Of course she did. Mako waited for her, Mitica always sighed in relief when he found out she survived, and now Jade... Sweet Jade... The night before the full moon they spent it together... They never left each others side, looking into the sky with dread as the dark sky tainted the ridge. \n\nThey shared a long, goodbye kiss, a hug that they both wished it lasted an eternity. Akira begged Jade to follow her, but the later thought she could be restrained somewhere else. \n\nDidn't their love have the same value as\n\nFlorian and Freddie? \n\nLove, it was the only thing that made them feel human.\n\nAkira took the piece of paper and read it. Her expression softened. Right, their tea party. It never came to fruition, Aki wondered if it was because Freddie already knew.\n\nHe must had been so disappointed, as his hatred only filled his heart even more.\n\n\"...W-what's the meaning of this?...Is he... Is he okay? Did one of us attack him?\"\n\nAkira had no idea. She had no idea of their mission, the plan where, had Freddie found their hiding place, could had ended with the pack being exterminated... Or with him dead."
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "_You wanted to get rid of us all, didn't cha?_ A dagger driven into his heart by the loving hand of Aki, a woman he considered a friend, a woman who now saw him for what he really was: _Poison. A traitor. A murderer. A monster._ \n\nHe _had_ wanted that, had he not? He had wanted them all gone, so that Briar Ridge could be safe again. So that Briar Ridge could sleep through the full moon nights without their hearts racing at every sound, without their lives hanging in the balance, a delicate scale that monstrous claws could so easily tip this way or that. Selfishly, so that his family could stop cleaning blood from their floors and carpets every month, so that Freddie never had to see that violence, never had to experience looking into the yellow eyes of something that could kill you in an instant without much effort at all.\n\nHe had felt nothing but hate for the werewolves. It was a hate deeply rooted in fear, a hate spurred on by _something_ outside his control, but hatred nonetheless, and it had poisoned him. Florian hadn't known, and still didn't know anything about the cure, other than the fact that even thinking about it made him feel sick to his stomach. There had been no evidence that it had been real, and so he turned to the only other option he found when he was blindly reaching for a semblance of safety: violence. He had regarded the wolves as wholly separate from the person they sprung from. How wrong he had been.\n_ _\n\n\"You ain't the threat Aki, _I am._\" It had been him who created the wolfsbane poison, who's love had spurred Freddie on to go out there. Florian may never have shot a werewolf, may never have done anything beyond slash at one with a butterknife, but his actions had led to harm. He'd spurred on the violence inside Ruth, inside Freddie, inside God only knows who else. \"It's Val he-,\" His voice broke. _It's my fault, I killed him._ \"He's _gone._ He left me a letter, said he was a werewolf and he's, he's lookin' for the cure, he, he left. It's my fault, Aki, he's goin' to, to get shot because of me. I got him c-cursed, I got him killed, I ain't never wanted that-\" Please let him be safe. Please. _Please._ \"-not then and not now, and I ain't _never_ wanted to, to kill you either,\" He said, tears rolling down his cheeks, following the barely dried paths of those he'd shed earlier. \"I was so blind, t-this whole time.\" Blinded by hate, by fear, by being surrounded with those who craved revenge the same as he did, by being unable to see the bigger picture; stained with blood both black and red. \"I'm sorry it took me this, this long to start seein' again.\" He just hoped it wasn't too late.\n_ _\n\n\"I don't know. I don't know if he's okay. He's still o-out there. He, he got attacked, he tried ta hide, he did, he didn't want to s-shoot that wolf, but, there, there's more, it's **Worse**,\" He stammered. Freddie _had_ been attacked. Florian didn't know how exactly, but he was certain of that. He had _seen_ it happen, muffled and hazy but he saw it nevertheless. The crunch of bones, the cry of pain, the sound of a bullet shot, hitting its mark. Freddie had tried to hide, it hadn't been the wolf he was after, and it still came for him. And it was Florian's fault he was out there to begin with. \"He went out to the c-cave, Aki, I couldn't stop him, I tried, I did, Aki I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault,\" He said, overwhelmed by guilt again. \"H-he, he tried to, to hide. He didn't want, want to shoot that wolf. I swear!\" But he had wanted to shoot another wolf, to protect Florian. This wasn't Freddie's fault, this was his. _Don't be mad at him, be mad at me, yell, scream, hurt me if you must, but **Please** Don't be angry with Freddie._\n\n|| gonna lay on the floor now"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "A traitor, a monster, a murderer. Akira was those things, not Florian. Half the town hated her for good reason. The coalition were heroes who wished to eradicate the infestation and protect their families, weren't they? It was Briar Ridge that was in danger, and she wasn't part of it anymore. \n\nThere were to sides in this brewing war, and Aki didn't want to fight it, not like her father was.\n\nShe closed her journal to pay more attention to Florian and put it down, the same journal she had translated the more important entries to Val himself. He knew of her vision. The young woman didn't even flinch at the revelation that the oldest of the Barcas had been cursed. She knew it all and more. What she didn't know, was of their plan for revenge. \n\nFreddie was sent to the cave kill to them all, the only place where werewolves could hide to stop themselves from hurting the good people of Briar Ridge.\n\nFreddie shot Jade. Her cries still rattled in her head, loud as ever.\n\n_'Just kill me! Make this end! Just fucking kill me!'_\n\nHe shot her. \n\n_'Kill me...!! End it now!'_\n\nIt was him.\n\nAkira's hand curled into a fist, it tightened around the note, it looked as if a vein would pop outta her neck at any moment, yet she said nothing. She swallowed her vile, held back her tears. The beast had its leash tightened around its neck, its teeth were pulled.\n\n\"Let me tell you, Flor... This ain't your fault.\"\n\nAkira stood up, her expression was hard to read, yet her voice ever so quiet.\n\n\" I know about Val.\" She said. \"I've known he was family when I sniffed him out in the hospital back in January. I had to tell him myself... Not everyone knows they're cursed until they shift an' start feasting on their family... The curse doesn't care, no one is an exception to it. I didn't want that to happen to him. He said he wanted to help in the cure, I'm not surprised he left. He probably wanted to open up the possibilities and finding new options. I've found everyone who can make it, we know\n\nThe cure works now... But it ain't gonna be as easy to concoct as we thought it would be.\"\n\nA sacrifice, something Akira wanted nothing to do with it. Hadn't Briar Ridge buried enough bodies already? Why kill an innocent soul to save the lives of many? One could make the argument that the Abram twins deserved it, but Akira herself didn't believe she could take the cure like this. Her soul was tainted enough.\n\n\"Freddie... H-he went to the cave knowing the dangers... Of us..\" Aki said, her voice trying not to sound accusatory, instead she wanted to be soothing. If this was gonna be the last time she'd see Florian, she didn't want this to be a fight.\n\n\"If he found us, we would've known... I don't remember my time as a wolf, but I know if I ever sank my teeth on someone... When I shifted back, I saw no Freedie in there, no signs of struggle or battle, not even silver bullets. Chances are... He never reached us.\" \n\nTheir mission was a total failure from the beginning, Freddie didn't even get to the werewolves lair. \n\n\"This ain't your fault, Flor. We hurt you... Hurt Val, we tried to stop ourselves from doing so but our hunger was stronger.\" \n\nHunger, that hunger, Akira knew it was coming at her for holding it at bay. She felt the pit in her stomach, the empty void that couldn't be satiated.\n\nShe had to reject the calling, soon she would pay for it, she could see it on her bitten cuticles.\n\n_'He didn't want, want to shoot that wolf. I swear!'_\n\n\"Don't be sorry... I-I don't deserve to be angry.\" Akira continued, her voice quivering. \"I don't even... Deserve to shed tears for what I've done.\"\n\nEven if she repeated that it wasn't his fault, it looked as if Aki were to crumble at any moment. Florian and Freddie wanted to kill them, that fact weighted on her heavily She'd understand if they saw no humanity in her, but Jade? Her Jade? She was innocent until April attacked her. \n\nAkira fought to push the thought away. \n\n\"How did ya know Freddie didn't wanna shoot her? Were you there?\""
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "Aki said it wasn't his fault. She was lying. She had to be. There was no way this wasn't his fault. It had to be his fault. If it wasn't his then it was the fault of Freddie or Valerian or a werewolf and he couldn't blame them. He could never get himself to be angry at Freddie. He could never accept that Valerian was to blame. But he had to blame someone, he had to point that accusatory finger somewhere and the only acceptable person on that guilt-ridden list was himself. It _had_ to be his fault, he couldn't accept that it was someone else's. If he couldn't be useful as a person he would serve a purpose as a scapegoat.\n\nHe looked up in shock when Aki told him that she'd known about Valerian. That Valerian had known about Aki in return. The pain inside him found a tucked-away corner where a yet-undestroyed part of him had taken refuge, and smashed it to pieces. Neither of them had said anything. Neither of them had deemed Florian **Enough** To be trusted, to be let in, to help. _I could have done somethin'! Does nobody see how hard I am tryin'! Why does nobody believe that I am anything but a broken child!_ Why would nobody let him help... Why did nobody tell him anything... Did they all truly believe he was nothing but a burden... Was he really right in that fear... The small part of him that still clung to the belief that he was useful, that he could add to the world, that he was worth taking up space, was it really wrong, was it truly feeding him false hope? _They would all be better off with me gone..._ \n_ _\n\n\"Why didn't he tell me...\" He couldn't blame them, could he? Florian would have found some way to ruin things. Maybe he truly was nothing but a discarded, broken toy, the adults were talking now, who did he think he was trying to meddle in their affairs? _This doesn't concern you, Florian._ People had always kept things hidden from him, why would this be any different? _This isn't up for debate, Florian._ Why had he fooled himself into believing that this time things would change, that this time maybe, _just maybe_, he'd have performed his tricks well enough to be looked at as an adult capable of independent function, and allowed to have a voice? _I will not have this discussion with you, Florian._ The Coalition hadn't listened to him, Valerian hadn't listened to him for months, Freddie hadn't listened to him. He wondered why he still kept trying.\n\nIt was settled then, he would say goodbye to Aki and go into those woods to find Freddie, and it wouldn't matter if he did not come back. JD, Dallas, Ruth, and Owen would need him for information, and if that voice required a sacrifice, Florian would be there to serve that purpose. His life for Freddie's, it was a simple trade, one he'd make without any hesitance. \n\n\"Aki, I could have killed you,\" He reminded her. \"Any of us could have. You deserve to be so much more than just _angry._\" He didn't understand why she wasn't screaming at him to get out, why she didn't wish for him, for all of those who thought like him, to drop dead on the spot. \n_ _\n\n\"I _saw_ him,\" He said, knowing he must sound crazy. That Aki likely wouldn't continue listening if she processed what he was saying. He sped up, not giving her the time to kick him out before he'd said what he needed to say. \"I don't rightly know how, but I know it was him and I know I was there, I saw him hide in that cave and then that wolf-\" A broken sob interrupted him and he felt anger again, but this time it was his own. Why couldn't he stop crying, why was he so weak! _Stop!_ A strangled sound of anger slipped past his lips. He had to tell Aki about this, he had to! \"Aki I've been seein' things, things I cain't explain. I've seen Valerian turn, I just thought they was nightmares. I had this _dream,_ there was a lady's voice, and and-\" He gasped, trying to gain control over his voice again. \n\n\"I heard it again, it spoke to Freddie, I-I tried to tell him not to light that candle, that she was lyin', but I lost sight of him then. I don't know where he is, I don't know what it means, I don't know what's happenin' to me.\" He was scared. He was so scared. \"But I know Freddie ain't wanted to shoot that wolf, that weren't the one that attacked Valerian and me. He only shot it when it was on, on top o' him, tryin' to-to _k-kill_ him.\" He couldn't speak anymore, the screams of his love echoed through his mind, reminding him of Freddie's pain. Pain that he had caused."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Why didn't he tell me...\" To that, Akira didn't know how to respond. Knowing Valerian, one would think he'd tell his family about it all, but he kept it a secret. It was him who stopped her from giving herself into the coalition, yet it was him who killed Eli, he didn't vote for the cure to be searched and found, he refused to follow the pack to the cave.\nVal's actions and moves puzzled the woman, there had been a few times where she had lashed out at people, raised her voice, the oldest of the Barcas had to see it when confronted.\n\nVelerian wasn't the exception he thought he was. They were all followed by the same shadow, their hands had been stained in blood.\n\n\"I-I could've killed you all, too. I have no control over my actions as a werewolf and I might be as good as dead while I'm turned into it...\"\n\nSpeaking of shadow-\n\n\"You saw Freddie... And... And Jade?\" Akira didn't show skepticism, rather, she raised an eyebrow in pure curiosity(and shock), as Florian unraveled what he knew. She had no filter to reveal that it was Jade who went for Freddie, that it was her who he shot. Of course her lover wouldn't do this out of malice, it was all hunger. Everyone knew that she would never hurt a fly.\n\n But if Florian knew what he saw, that begged the question, was he like her? Was Florian some kind of witch? No, something about his visions don't match up with hers. \n\nThe mention of the candle struck something in Akira, as Mitica's voice recounted the steps to follow for the cure ritual.\n\n_Only light the candle. She will be beholden to finish Her end of the ritual for as long as She remains lit. Entrust the task of lighting Her wick and guarding Her to one you trust. They need not be of witch's blood, but one whose soul is resolute is necessary. She will lie. Do not let Her. _\n\n\"Flor... I believe you.\" Now Akira stood right in front of the youngest Barca sibling. Human and Beast. Seer and... Who was Florian, now?\n\nThe woman then grabbed him by the shoulders. \"What else did you see? The candle... What did she do to Freddie after she was lit?\""
},
{
"author": "Florian Barca",
"message": "\"I know you don't have control...\" He admitted. He'd known since the beginning of April that the werewolves couldn't control their wolf under a full moon, that it was the wolf who craved destruction, not the person. But he still struggled to believe it, still struggled to accept that people didn't remember anything, that nothing they'd tried had worked. That people stayed despite knowing they'd hurt others, time and time again. Florian didn't know if he would ever understand. He didn't know if he could ever forgive the person who hurt his brother. Even if the werewolves weren't willing, the pain they caused was very real. The intent or lack thereof didn't change the fact that his right leg was covered in jagged scars. The hunger in those yellow eyes didn't lessen because the person trapped inside didn't want it. The blood spilled on the floor of his house, the shattered windows, doors and walls didn't magically become whole again because those infected were unwilling. He didn't know how to feel, and he wouldn't know how to feel for quite some time. But he knew he didn't want to hurt Aki, or Jade, or Valerian, or Rhett. But something inside him, something had buried its hateful teeth into his heart, and that _something_ did want to hurt them. \n\n\"_Jade?_ I-I just saw a wolf, not the same one what hurt me. Was that Jade? _Shit,_ Aki did he shoot Jade...\" Good. It was good that he shot her. That monster tried to kill Freddie, it was the least she deserved. He should feel angry, he should feel rage. Those beasts had hurt his family. Those monsters took Valerian from him. Aki could have been the one who killed Valerian. Why was he sitting here and apologizing to her! His own scarred leg could have been her doing! _No. No. No, that wasn't right. She was, **Is** His friend. Aki is his friend._ Can those monsters truly be your friend, if they look at you as food? _Stop it! Aki wouldn't even kill a bug if it wandered into her house._\n_ _\n\nAki grabbed his shoulders and Florian was briefly snapped out of his spiral. She'd asked him a question. He could answer that, yes, he could do that. \"There was a, a circle of stones, I seen it in another dream before,\" He began, confused at Aki's sudden urgence. He wiped his tears away, a useless action, the moment he'd done it, new ones had already started forming. \"The cave it was, _humming,_ reacted to Freddie's blood I think.\" He had been bleeding, all alone. His little violet, injured and lost. \"It was hard to focus,\" He explained, his voice shaking. \"Some type, type of altar, I think I saw human bones there but I cain't rightly be sure,\" He confessed. He'd been too focused on trying to hold on, whatever had been talking to his love had not wanted Florian there.\n\n\"She? The, the candle?\" He asked. \"I reckon he did light it, I couldn't stop Freddie. I called out to him but I, I-\" _\"Violet!\"_ \"I got sent away, Aki. I couldn't hold on, I tried to stop him, I promise, I tried... I tried, but I wasn't strong enough.\" He'd abandoned Freddie in that cave. _I'm so sorry Freddie._ \"She promised she was goin'ta guide, guide him. I ain't trust that voice none, but Freddie, you know him, he's, he's so kind and carin'. He trusted her. I don't know what she did. Aki, what do you mean _do to him?_ What is goin' on? Is he gone? I don't want him to be gone...\" I don't want to live without him... I want him back. Give him back! \n\nAki and Florian. Werewolf and human. Seer and... He didn't quite know either."
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Something about Florian didn't seem quite right when Akira tried to meet his gaze. Something about the way his voice sounded as he came to the realization that Freddie had shot her lover, the energy she felt in her own house, the way youngest of the Barca's didn't seem to be quite... There, at least not until he came back to his senses to give her answers.\n\nAnd boy did Aki get answers. \n\n\"An altar... Human bones... The candle..\" The woman let go off Florian's shoulders. She pondered, hard, tapping the side of her head as if something was _connecting_ in her brain. \n\nYes, of course Akira knew Freddie. He was kind, he was loving. But that was in the past, wasn't it? It was his choice to have the resolution within his soul to kill her and everyone in the cave, he shot Jade. He made the stupidest decision into going there, alone, where werewolves tried to hide from hurting their loves ones, to not hurt Briar Ridge, to not hurt people like Freddie even if he wanted them all dead.\n\nFreddie wanted her dead, but she wouldn't give him or the coalition the pleasure of pulling the trigger. If her life were to end, it'd be by her own hand if the cure couldn't be found. \n\n\"He sure started something...\" She said, turning back to Florian, feeling _heavy_ just by looking at him. \n\n\"You see, the cure... It's a- more than just concocting medicine. It's a ritual, and Freddie may have found one of the locations needed for it. What I don't understand is why-or how, it was able to react to his presence... I thought we were supposed to follow steps!..But, I believe in you, Flor, because I too can see things... I see people's true nature every full moon.\"\n\nAnd that begged the question. Who was Florian Barca now? If only she could see through him now..\n\n She took a deep breath. \"No wonder you want to go and find him, he might still be in that altar?...\"\n\nAkira lifted her one index finger up, pointing to herself.\n\n\" I'd love to go with you,\n\nRegardless of how Freddie sees me, I know to him I'm no longer a person... But the last thing I can do now, it's my way to make up for my own sins.\""
}
] | 897 | 8,126 |
422.733333 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "Ruth did not consider herself a selfless person. Caring for her own self and putting food on the table already took too much energy. Not to mention, caring for the house: she lived alone, so both female and male parts of the household chores rested on her shoulders. \n\nShe considered altruism to be a privilege of the wealthy, of the leisuring, of the bored. People who had time to spend. And she didn't. She had to make sure the roof was not leaking, and the traps worked well, and her old, callous sorrow wouldn't turn her into a shadow of a woman. There were only so many hours in the day, and \"Being kind\" Didn't fit into her tight schedule.\n\nOf course, there were some exceptions.\n\nSometimes other's misery is so cruel you cannot help but stop in your tracks. She first heard about it around the Cage, because it was impossible to keep quiet about something so inhuman. The news poisoned her, hung on her tongue just like they did with the others, begging to be said out loud, praying to remove at least a part of that heaviness in her chest. The people had already died, decapitated, bled out, and yet this was the idea that sent shivers down her spine, cold and leaky like the March's snow.\n\nAkira Hirano had lost an arm.\n\nNews about the poor girl turned her stomach upside down, grabbed it by its corners, and shook it like a canvas bag. Ruth had never considered how lucky she was to have her own self. Her strong arms, her trusty legs, her head that always told her what to do and where to go. She took her capabilities for granted, and now the possibility of losing them at once opened a pit in her stomach. A pit so deep, that no food or hard work could close it, however she tried.\n\nRuth didn't do handouts. Ruth didn't do pity. Ruth barely knew the girl, with the slash of a scar on her cheek, with her face like a hero's from a children's book; with her bravery and her carelessness. But she knew enough to understand her incapacitation would put the farm in a very bad place. Her father was old, and Akira needed rest. With all that, it was spring. With the snow finally melting, the soil needed treatment, and the crops needed care. Nobody in this damned town had money for hires. There would be too much work for one man; and certainly, too little food for the two of them.\n\nRuth knew, despite trying her hardest to learn nothing about it. About them. About her. She didn't even know the girl, damn it! However, even when arguing with herself, deep down Ruth already knew that it was decided. If she wouldn't be allowed to help them, at the very least she would bring them some meat.\n\nIf she wouldn't be let in, she would leave the rabbits outside, where they would be found. She didn't want a \"Thank you\". To be completely honest, she dreaded looking into the eyes of a person who just forever lost a part of themselves. She just wanted to help. To ease her own pain, her own worry. She was still selfish. She still needed to tend to her own roof.\n\nIn the late March morning, Ruth Hansen approached the entrance to the Hirano family farm and pushed the gate open.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Rest on itself proved to be a new challenge Akira had to get pass through. For a good while, she was confined in a hospital bedroom, and then sent home to continue her recovery. Spring was here, which meant crops needed to be planted, the chickens needed to be fed, she needed to get firewood for the stove, fetch her father's medication. She was used to this kind of life ever since she was thirteen. \n\nAs if the winter wasn't harsh enough for the Hirano, she had to get used not doing anything. That for a restless body could only do so much. \n\nAs soon as she could stand back on her feet, Akira insisted on taking walks, even if it was around the living room, she was set on going back to work, but her father was adamant on keeping her safe. \n\n'I'm going to the store, do you want, anything?' Mako asked his daughter, who had been awake for a while, staring at the ceiling on the bed. \n\n'Hmmm...' Akira hummed, turning to her father while keeping the conversation in full Japanese for their convenience. It wasn't like anyone was going to visit, was it? 'I wanna sit on the porch.' \n\nShe wasn't hungry, she didn't thirsty, she wanted to get moving.\n\nReluctantly and quickly, Mako set up a chair for Aki to sit in. There, she saw him leave, she was able to feel the air on her skin, she could get the false sensation of being productive rather than sulking in her seclusion. And by the spirits she was tired of it all, if it wasn't the curse that turned people into beasts that would kill her, it'd be her own self pity. She already promised to far too many loved ones she'd live.\n\nWhen Ruth approached the home, Akira sat there, with an oversized sleeveless top that was clearly made for a man, baggy pants stitched back together multiple times, a comfy blanket that hid her missing limb... And fire in her eyes?\n\nMore than worrying about her damn arm, Akira was more focused on each and every single piece of news that her father brought from the outside.\n\n'_Eli Abrams is dead, he was a werewolf. April Abrams gave herself in. Shady Rooster is also a werewolf... He had convinced Alma not to kill him. The coalition voted to wait three months to find the cure_'\n\nAkira's fierce eyes turned to the gate up front, it couldn't be that Mako returned this quickly. A new person came over, making the woman go back to her default, gentle gaze. The woman smiled at the stranger, waving her one arm. \n\n\"Greetings.\" She said, her voice quiet yet exhausted, there was a hint of rawness to it, denoting her determination to returning to her routine one day. \n\nRuth was her name, wasn't it? A hunter in town, living alone, someone who shared the same fashion choices that Akira did, but tall and imposing. Well, imposing to some perhaps, as Aki was unfazed, even if she only saw her once or twice in town. \n\n\"How can I help you?\""
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "Ruth:Akira kept calm. She looked like she was handling well both the misfortune that was bestowed upon her and the appearance of an unexpected guest. Her voice was soft and gentle, yet androgynous; seeing her now reminded Ruth of all the times she had already seen her in passing. Akira had a very memorable face, a memorable... Charm about her. Maybe she felt the need to keep brave, to keep strong, but judging by her face, Ruth would've never guessed that.\n\n\"Hello.\" She answered, voice monotone as always, \"Akira, was it? My condolences... For your arm.\"\n\nShe passed the threshold of the gate, but stood at a distance, keeping in mind how this might look. A man of the house leaving the farm under the care of his incapacitated daughter, and someone imposing and unexpected showing up at the gates. Briar Ridge was not a crime-filled town, - if you didn't count the werewolves and whatever was done to the people in the mines, - but it was a cruel melting pot of desperate people. There were always things to steal from a farm.\n\n\"I'm here to bring you food.\" Ruth raised the bag with rabbits inside of it, \"And help with some farm work if you'll let me. No money needed.\" She quickly clarified.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "It had seemed that Akira's misfortune still led to friends and strangers to her door. How ironic, given the fact that the woman let go attachment in the past few months, almost as if she was running out of time, fighting for her own life. \n\nThough that was a common sight in Briar Ridge by now, everyone was scarred and to some degree deformed from an outsiders perspective, all neighbors looked at each other with mistrust. If a simple housewife, who was about to deliver at any moment, was a werewolf... Then anyone could be. \n\nNow, as much as Aki tried to detach herself from people, she couldn't fully commit. It wasn't in her to push them away, to turn away their kindness, even if in her own religious views, it could help cleanse her soul if she were to die the next day. \n\n\"That's me.\" She said. \"And you're Ruth if I'm not mistaken. Good to meet you.\" \n\nBut there she was, sitting on her porch, letting Ruth inside the home. Her eyes scanned her body language, finding it peculiar how the tall woman approach her with caution. \n\n\"Come on in. This place always welcomes new guests.\" \n\nShe waved her one hand to dismiss any sort of worry Ruth had, making a stark contrast over the fact that Aki was alone. In fact, she didn't consider to look at it the way the other woman did. Akira was a provider and made an attempt at homemaking (emphasis on attempt), but she never saw them as things inherently masculine or feminine. \n\n\"That's... Very kind of you.\" She followed, bowing her head slightly as she took a glance over the bag. And then, that same contrast was made it more apparent after Ruth offered to help in the farm, a place that she called her own for many years. \n\nHer expression was hard to read, almost as if she didn't deserve to be offered more than Briar Ridge could afford in these times.\n\n\"Hmm, I'm gonna... Have to think about that one offer.\" She said. \"You see, I think all labor should be paid one way or another.\" \n\nOn Akira's left, within her arm's reach, there was a\n\nSmall table with a tea set. The kettle itself was clearly foreign made, it looked handmade, though the rest of the cups were bought in the town itself. There, the woman poured the hot liquid in two out of the three cups. \n\n\"I can tell you what needs to be done in the farm.\" She said, lifting up a cup within Ruth's reach to grab it. \n\n\"Want some?\""
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "Involuntarily, Ruth raised her head as the sound of her own name pierced her ears. People in this town knew of her? Unbelievable: Ruth knew how bad she was at making acquaintances. It seemed like all she had was either solitude or awkward first meetings that led nowhere. Someone else acknowledging her existence was almost as weird as someone acknowledging the existence of the Non-Deer. *Something From The Forest That Should Not be Glanced Upon.*\n\n\"Thank you,\" Ruth replied, accepting the cup and taking a seat at the side of Akira's remaining arm. Despite the blanket transforming the women's silhouette well, there was no hiding the absence of where there was supposed to be *Something*, the eerie lack of movement on one side. Ruth tried not to stare, but knew, with how heavy her gaze was, Akira had probably already noticed. The bag of game sprawled awkwardly on the floor under Ruth's feet, pressed against the legs of her chair. She took a sip of her tea and considered her next words.\n\nShe expected many more questions, much more suspicion, and, whatever answer she would give, much more mistrust. Aki acted almost like she expected her to come. Maybe Ruth wasn't the first person to attempt to offer help; and when she takes a look at the fields, she will see half of Briar Ridge's population working there, including the wolves. The thought was humorous. It entertained her for a couple of seconds, that thought of Briar Ridge as a sun-drenched community coming together at a time of need.\n\n\"Knowing I can rely on you would be enough of a payment.\" She answered, \"Those are dark times, Ms. Hirano. I noticed you aren't wary of me. That says a lot about your character, at least to me it does.\"\n\nShe sat in silence for a second, allowing the words to seep in.\n\n\"Either that, or... You won't have a couple of silver bullets lying around, will you?\" She breathed out a short and quiet raspy laugh.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Akira let out a small giggle, right before her own cup touched her lips to take a good sip of her tea. \n\n\"Guess I can't say 'no' to your offer, I hope you can accept some sort of payment either way.\" She said, savoring the warm liquid as it slid down her throat. A stark contrast from the shine that used to burn her stomach, now Akira had to stay put if she wanted to recover.\n\n\"I got no reason to be wary of you.\" The woman added, humming in thought to herself as Ruth remained in silence. Akira didn't find this uncomfortable, however, as she took joy in something so simple as a cup of tea by the porch. Silence in this kind of environment meant she could relax, she could feel safe. \n\n\"Pfffft..!\" Aki joined Ruth in her laughter, turning to the other woman who seemed to tower her even while sitting. \n\n\"I can tell you that I'm an awful shot! I can't land a bullet on a werewolf even if it was right in front of me!\" \n\nAkira wasn't talking about hypotheticals, that indeed happened. \n\n\"Nah, I've given up trying to learn how to use a gun. Give me a machete or a stick, something tells me I'd be better at that.\""
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "The tea was good and tasted expensive, although Ruth doubted Hiranos had money for expensive tea. She took a sip and let the words about the payment slide: neither confirming nor denying Akira. She did the same with the mention of reasoning. Fear did not play by the rule of reason. If it did, people would not be killing spiders.\n\nHowever, when the conversation shifted to shooting the werewolves, Ruth got back in her tracks.\n\n\"You don't say!\" She barked out, happy that her joke landed well, \"I shoot for a living, and the only time I shot a werewolf, I missed. Hands shook like crazy. They say they're gonna kick me out' the Coalition any day now.\"\n\nShe was, of course, joking. With more and more people becoming dead, incapacitated, or just deciding that fighting the werewolves was not worth it, the Coalition's numbers noticeably thinned. Any pair of hands counted, however competent it was with a gun.\n\n\"The bastards are hard to target.\" Ruth continued, her tone more serious now. She lifted the cup to her lips and left it there, distracted, \"Too strong and too smart. We don't know how the disease passes, or how many there are. Even if we reveal them all, it does not mean they will stop. If we don't make up any sort of... Trap, or something, I believe, our chances of surviving are slim\".\n\nThere was a pause, filled only by the rustling of the wind outside, rolling around the small dry lumps of dirt. Ruth blinked, her soul, vision and *Reason* Returning back to her body.\n\n\"Should I not... Talk about this?\" She asked Akira carefully, setting the cup back on the table.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Oh, I believe you.\" Aki said. \"I had one right in front of me. They're so fast, you see them in front of you, and then they're onto you to make you their dinner.\" \n\nAs Ruth's tone got more serious, so did Akira's expression as she sipped on her tea. Her guess would be right over the fact that the Hirano couldn't afford it, as it was a gift from the Coopers themselves. Aki could enjoy the beverage for so long, given it was one of the last of the batch. \n\nThe woman raised an eyebrow at the fact that Ruth seemed hopeless of the situation. She remained in solemn silence, for she knew the horror everyone had to endure.\n\n\"Oh, no no, it's okay! We can talk about it, whatever happened to me doesn't matter.\" Akira was quick to reassure her after a glance on her missing limb, covered in fabrics. \n\n\"You're underestimating the coalition, though.\" She said. \"They're about to complete this cage project they had going on for months. Just about time, if you asked me.\" \n\nAkira paused to let the information settle, for she was ready to say everything she had heard since she woke up from almost bleeding out to death. \n\n\"And, I don't know if you heard what happened recently, but... Two werewolves just gave themselves in.\" She continued, nearing her cup to take another sip, letting her gaze get lost into the dirt path. \"I don't blame them, if you ask me. They don't do this because they want to... It's more than a decease, it's a curse.\""
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "\"I understand.\" Ruth exhaled quietly, \"I'm not saying they all are bad. The April girl, the pregnant one, she seems nice. The Cage's not a bad idea too, but...\"\n\nShe clasped her hands together, the cup on the table forgotten.\n\n\"I have little hope.\" She admitted \"If all werewolves give themselves in but one, the deaths won't stop. Nor will they if we kill all the werewolves but one. People throw solutions around, but... I just don't know.\"\n\nRuth waved a hand, then put it back on her knees. A troubled look came out on her face, creases of unease around her mouth. \n\n\"If that's a curse, you say, who knows when the curse'll come back? We lock all the wolves in the Cage, and the new one'll pop outside, free as a bird. Don't know.\" She repeated, \"It's all so complicated.\"\n\n\"What would you do?\" She asked after about a minute of silence later, voice a bit brighter, moving on from the sudden pouring out of her worried heart, \"Heard you ran for mayor, so... If you won, what would you do about the wolves?\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "What Ruth said made all the sense in the world. If anything, plenty of people in Briar Ridge would share the same sentiment. But, what was the solution, then? To kill all the werewolves? Akira would had have that opinion just a few months back, but now her vision was different. \n\n\"It really is all complicated...\" She sighed, going for another sip on her when the subject of her running for mayor was brought up. Aki almost spat on her cup, choking on it. \n\n\"Blegh! Ah...! Oh dear...\" She wheezed and coughed, patting her chest as her face turned bright red. \"Oh this is embarrassing... I didn't run for mayor because I wanted to. I did it 'cause I lost a bet while drunk...\" \n\nWith that being said, Akira did say her opinions out loud on the podium. She paused for a moment to ponder (and to clear her throat), tapping on the scar on her cheek. \n\n\"There's a cure in the works, I heard\" She said, her voice was firm, reassuring. \"There's a group of people out there who can stop all this madness once and for all. Who are they? No idea, but rumors spread quick... One of the werewolves even said he was willing to have it tested on himself if that meant to end all this as soon as possible.\" \n\nWitchery, the blood of an immune, the healing power of hands blessed by the forest. Those were words mentioned in that journal that had been found mentioned. While some may have seen this as a devil's act, Akira saw hope in those writings. \n\n\"A cure is what we need.\" She said. \"We need less bloodshed, and less mistrust amongst ourselves... That's what I'd do, 'cause I think the last thing you'd want... Is to shoot someone you love in the face because of something they didn't choose or have control over.\" \n\nAkira stared straight into her cup, frowning. \n\n\"It's not fair for anyone to go through that.\""
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "\"What's done is done.\" Ruth shrugged at the crazy story of how the election came to be. God had the most curious ways of making things happen.\n\nAkira's future words, however, left Ruth with even more questions. What kind of doctor would hide in the shadows when working on the cue to the most deadly sickness in Briar Ridge? The town had an official doctor and a couple of nurses, bless their hearts, and all of them were cherished and respected even by the most inconsiderate ones in town. If the mystery doctor was hiding themselves, it either meant that they were doing something nefarious or... Or they knew something that the others did not know about the werewolves. Something worth hiding from. \n\nThat \"Something\" Would mean that at least some of the werewolves did not want to be cured. What should be done with those, and what *Could* Be done, even if the cure was found? Would the kind-hearted future mayor, sitting there with her teacup and her big brown eyes, have the heart to banish them? Would they agree to be banished?\n\nAnd then, the cryptic message from the journal. *Witchery, the blood of an immune, the healing power of hands blessed by the forest.* If the recipe was in the Briar Ridge before, yet the werewolves were still around, wouldn't that mean that the cure did not work? But even so: the words imply that there was only one immune among them. What if they had already died? Immune did not mean invincible. What if they left the town? How could one search for them outside, in a country so big? And finally, how would their immunity be revealed, if there was no information about the way curse transmitted? There was only so much that a mayor could do, even the most determined one. And, it seemed, Akira was not the most determined. It seemed she saw the election as a joke.\n\nStill, Akira sounded genuinely caring. She had some opinions about the way things should be run, and Ruth always enjoyed it in people.\n\n\"So, if you were mayor, you'd focus on making the cure? How would you support it, if you don't know who's making it?\" Ruth asked, with curiosity in her voice.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "\"Why wouldn't I focus on the cure?\" Asked Aki back, her voice growing serious as she kept her gentle tone. Who wouldn't want for things to be over once and for all? How many more families had to be destroyed and separated? How much more blood had to be to be spilled? \n\nAkira was certain that no one in Briar Ridge chose the kind of lives they had to endure, human or beast. She wasn't there when April gave herself in, but she imagined her desperation, she felt the grief she was going through after losing a husband a second time. The woman reminded Aki of her father in that sense, someone left alone to raise their own children.\n\nNow, she was alone once more, without her own kids, about to deliver more. Akira shook her head as she pushed the thought away, trying not to show her frustration by taking one last sip on her tea. \n\nApril Adams didn't ask for any of this, none of the werewolves wanted to be cursed. Briar Ridge didn't have to endure it. \n\n\"Even if I don't know who can make the cure.\" Akira said. \"I'd try to find them by any means necessary.\" \n\nFinding the people who could put an end to all this was just a start, and the whole town was put on a timer. Could they survive another year? Doubtful, but that fed into Aki's new found determination.\n\n\"What would you do about the werewolves, if you were a mayor?\" She asked after putting her cup down and making herself comfortable, her curious eyes meeting with the older woman's."
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "\"By any means necessary\" Sounded great, with that Ruth could agree. Good to say, good to think. The problems started when it came time to decide what actions it would actually entail. Ruth also liked to think, on occasion, that she would do *Whatever it takes* To protect Briar Ridge from the shaggy clawed curse that got brought down on its inhabitants' heads. And yet, when it came time to take a shot, she missed. When it was time to think, she ran and abandoned the Cage she swore to protect, adrenaline beating in her brain like a deafening drum, depriving her of rationality. When the time came to cure wounds, she was incapable; when comfort was needed, all she could provide was her disturbing presence. When you look at it this way, her \"Any means\" Wasn't worth much, was it?\n\n\"Oh no, Ms Hirano, I'm not a mayor.\" Ruth shook her head with a small smile, \"Haven't got brains for it. My job's handiwork\".\n\nShe finished her cup of tea, then stood up from the chair, subtly stretching her back.\n\n\"Thank you for the tea and the company.\" Ruth said honestly and calmly, \"But I reckon it's time for me to do what I came here for. Would you kindly show me the ropes?\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": ":Well that makes two of us.\" Akira laughed. \"I'm not fit for the job either, I just hope the next Mayor will do a good job..\"\n\nAnd surely, Aki hoped they'd do a better job than William Cooper did. It had seemed he tried to handle the werewolf situation on his own terms, but he had failed. Perhaps he became a traitor in many people's eyes, yet Aki felt pity for him. Her father still mourned his death, Mako's grief felt like her own. \n\nWith difficulty, Akira sat up after Ruth, making the contrast between their heights even more apparent. Her one hand still held the blanket that covered her missing limb, almost as if she was afraid to be seen in such state. Despite looking like she'd break with a single touch, Aki smiled through her pain, even going as far as picking up the game that Ruth had brought to have a semblance of independence. \n\n\"Alright then.\" She said, gesturing the other woman to follow her to he backyard, where they both could get a better look of Akira's old working environment. \n\nBehind the Hirano residence there were to things that stood out aside from the lands that needed to be worked on. The small family had managed to have their own barn built, alongside a chicken farm that served both as extra income and for their own supplies. \n\n\"I usually get things started at six in the morning. First things first, the chickens need to be fed.\" She said. \"They may be a lil skittish but don't worry about it, they'll just go hide so as long as they don't escape it's all good.\"\n\nHer dark eyes then focused on the barn.\n\n\"All the tools are stored there. If you have a horse I think it'd make things much faster, sadly we don't own them.\" She continued. \"We'll start with something simple, trying to plant some potatoes and wheat should be good. We may need to harvest some hay later this month for the Kahawai's goats next door.\"\n\nAkira then paused for a moment as her smile faded for a moment, letting her mask slip just for a second.\n\n\"Hopefully I should be good enough\n\nTo at least help on that front...\" She said, though her voice was low enough as if the woman tried to cling on whatever dignity and pride she had left. \n\nAki then took a deep breath, slightly puffing her chest and cheeks as if she tried to tell herself that it was okay to receive help. \n\n\"I should show you the barn. Follow me.\""
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "Were the words about not knowing what to do as a mayor a false coyness, an insecurity, or an actual indifferent opinion of Akira, Ruth wouldn't get to know, because the woman stood up, asking for Ruth to follow her. Ruth got on her feet as well, with a slight hesitation leaving the bag with the rabbits behind: Akira already knew it was here, and they probably needed this bag now more than Ruth did. She could always come to pick it up when Hirano's farm would pick up as well.\n\nThey went outside, the spring air cool and pleasant. Ruth's eyes wandered: the house held well, but after Briar Ridge's cruel winters with its icy storms, it surely had a couple of leaky places that could be up for patching. The fields looked unkempt and dry, with the snow slowly melting into the ground underneath. The fence looked wavy and deplorable, - probably the result of the storms as well. A problem that's easy to fix, which would in practicality turn into many sweaty days of work because of the sheer size of the territory it stretched to. So far, no task before them looked small or approachable with one hand, and Ruth was once again filled with sympathy for Akira. \n\nThere were a couple of other buildings closer to the field, the purpose of which Ruth couldn't guess at a glance. A shed, maybe? As Akira spoke, Ruth tried to stop wandering and focus on the words said to her. With careful consideration, Ruth was making a mental to-do list. Feeding the chickens, in particular, got stuck in her mind. Was it the task hard to do with one hand? Ruth never had chickens, but she always thought feeding was just throwing food on the ground. Or was Akira pitying her, giving her an intentionally easy chore?\n\nRegardless, it wasn't her place to decide, which tasks needed help. If anything, she could always come back.\n\nRuth noticed the woman's uneasiness, - was it a fear of letting a stranger into her place, or guilt at her own incompetence, or something else entirely? – and tried to show her a supportive smile.\n\n\"Lead the way!\" She said optimistically, as if there would be nothing else in the world she would prefer to see to Hirano Barn.\n\n||"
}
] | 422 | 6,341 |
528.25 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "It was two weeks past her attack; the aches and pains were starting to slowly shift from excruciating down into only a little nauseating; getting up and down to use the bathroom still needed assistance from the good preacher, and cooking was absolutely out of the question. \n\nShe spent most of her days and nights in bed, and she forced Abel to visit the library often to get her books to voraciously read. These days, it was likely she'd read most of the books in the library that pertained to fantasy and fiction— she ate the stories up eagerly. \n\nNight had fallen, and Abel had retired to bed an hour ago. It had been a long day; she was tired but she couldn't sleep, not for the pains that riddled her body. Thankfully, it seemed she was on the road to recovery— every day got a little bit better, a little bit easier. \n\nThe window was cracked open that night; though it was a cold January night, Dimitra felt stifled and hot in her bed. She tugged at her clothes a little, desperate to find some sort of relief. A groan escaped her lips and she twisted to light the candle by her bedside in hopes to squint into the darkness and catch a few words of the book she was working through. Something about a dragon and a town— better than Abel's suggestion of *The Bible*... Which she'd read through three times now."
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "To have liquor back in his toolbox was a freeing thing for Rhett. Moonshine was a salve for the festering wound of his empathetic heart in a town so full of pain. Sometimes the alcohol amplified the hurting, so much that he would hook an arm around a sufferer in the speakeasy, and listen to them talk for hours between sips. Sometimes the pain dulled down, so much that Rhett could dance and holler and sing on the pallet stage until the early hours of the morning, his voice hoarse the next day. \n\nSo far, in dealing with his troubles over the rift that had opened between he and Alma, no amount of moonshine he poured into that void could fill it up. That hadn't stopped him from trying again and again and again since their fight. Hank told him to quit it, obviously alarmed at Rhett's sudden and hearty return to the bottle. When Rhett didn't feel like withstanding Hank's finger wagging he fled to Dimitra instead. She had a habit of encouraging his freer forms of self expression. All he needed was permission for self destruction, and as long as he disguised his self destruction as a search for a good time, Dimitra might sign off. \n\nOf course she'd been far less available to coach him in his bad decisions as of late, what with her near death experience. He brought her and Abel food from his aunts' kitchen regularly and spent time visiting when he could, plucking amateurishly at an old guitar the preacher kept around in attempts to entertain the patient. He was worried about her, but as was his instinct, he leeched her eternal good and peevish mood and presented it as his own when he was around her. \n\nTonight, already having imbibed a few sips from the shine jar he carried, he made his way to Abel's, hoping that Dimitra was still awake and up for talkin' shit. He was happy to find her bedroom window open, which negated the anxiety he'd worked up over having to knock on the preacher's door at such a late hour. The snow crunched under his boots as he approached.\n\n\"Yoo-hoo!\" Rhett called softly, cranking the window open enough for his face to fit through the opening. Soon after, he thrust in the shine jar. \n\"I brought you somethin'. Kin I come in? Are ya decent?\" His face was flushed from his buzz, and from his brisk walk in the cold.\n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "The snapping of twigs and leaves underfoot by the window did make her heart leap a bit, before she saw the face of Rhett Sterling pop in. Her heart warmed, as it did for all her friends, and she sat up a little more in anticipation. It wasn't like him to turn up this late, not lately at least, and she was interested already as he thrust out a jar of shine as an offering like a man at a temple. \"I'm as decent as I can be, sweetheart,\" She fluttered her lashes playfully, always the flirt even when she was in pain and injured. It was in her nature, and she knew that Rhett understood that about her. She was grateful for a friend like him; they fed off each other's bad behavior at times, and he never expected much of her. Her playful flirting and affectionate touches never held much bearing in him and she adored that; she knew where his heart lay and she just liked to be a playful nymph, whispering in his ear, egging him on when he needed that extra shove. \n\nAs Rhett climbed in her window, she shuffled herself to the side and made room for him beside her on the bed, fingers outstretched to take the jar of shine. \n\n\"To what do I owe the pleasure?\" She asked curiously. \"Not everyday that a handsome young man steals away into my quarters,\" Dimitra snickered to herself and peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. \"And you've already had a few tonight, haven't you?\" Dimitra flashed a grin and shook her head. \"How'd you find your way here in the dark without tripping over your big feet?\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Rhett laughed as he climbed inside the room to follow the moonshine, comforted that Dimitra retained her flirtatious nature in light of her numbered injuries. Clumsily, he landed beside her, puffing out a dramatic breath and leaning his head back against the wall \n\"Abel asleep yet? Don't wanna wake 'im.\" He muttered, slightly winded as he shuffled the covers of the bed beneath himself to ensure he wasn't accidentally sitting on any of Dimitra's body parts. Last thing she needed was a stitch opened up from his clumsiness. He turned to watch her while she spoke, holding off answering her questions just to take in the state of her. She looked well, all things considered. \n\n\"I tripped plenty, but I appreciate your confidence.\" Rhett told her, grinning unabashedly at her compliment of *Handsome* As he took the jar of moonshine and stole an eyewatering swig. He kept the lid off should Dimitra want a sip.\n\"I had a couple drinks... A couple hours ago. I think.\" He told her, his lie immediately cracking his face into a smile. The boy couldn't fib to save his life, even about something so small. \n\n\"I just. You know. Wanted ta check on ya. See if your hair was still curly,\" He reached out to twist a strand of her hair around his finger, making a face as though he were inspecting the quality, \"Seems to be. That's a relief.\" He idly tucked it behind her ear and took another small sip from the jar, coughing nervously. He was here to talk about Alma, of course— here to get Dimitra's thoughts on the fight. He felt too self-serving to bring it up immediately upon entering, but the topic occupied such a great expanse of his mind that he was having trouble making an excuse for his visit in the meanwhile. \n\n\"You're doin' alright then? Healin'-wise? The preacher takin' good care of ya?\""
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She took a sip as soon as the jar was opened; it was strong enough to make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, but Dimitra drank it with ease. She handed it back and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, whipping her curls back and forth afterward in demonstration of her refusal to lose those signature curls he was talking about. \n\n\"Abel's been asleep about an hour,\" She said, shifting so her arm slipped through his. It was easy to fall into something that sort of reminded her of her friends from back home; Rhett was very easy to get along with and very easy to talk to. \n\n\"You're a terrible liar on all accounts, drunk bastard,\" She laughed quietly and prodded at his alcohol-flushed cheeks as demonstration. \"And I'll also point out that I know you didn't come to just have a little chat about how I'm doing, because that could've waited til the sun was shining.\" \n\nBut she would humor him anyhow. \"The preacher is taking very good care of me, even if he's not taking care of me in the way I'd like,\" She said, raising her eyebrows a few times. \"He's so gentlemanly about it all, too. It's sweet, if not a little maddening.\" She wanted to grab that man and shake him around, but alas... \n\n\"But on the healing front, I'm feeling slowly better. I've been walking around the house and all— been thinking about making a break for it, taking a walk into town the next time he's got to leave to check on the church.\" Dimitra flashed Rhett a mischievous grin and squeezed his arm. \"Can I count on you to keep quiet about that?\" She asked, more rhetorical than anything. \"Now...\" \n\nDimitra winced as she shifted to face him more. \"Do you want to spill why you really came?\" She asked, fingers making their way upward to twist his hair around her fingers. \"You're drunk as a skunk and crawling in my window in the middle of the night, so it can't be good. What's the matter?\" She asked, hooking her chin on his shoulder."
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Rhett whistled, low and quiet to express his mock scandal. \n\"Here you are, tucked inta your death bed, and you're mad at this man fer not takin' ya inta his own.\" His brows were raised, a smile stifled at his lips. \n\"I see yer point, though. He's gonna miss ya when you're back at your place again.\" He nodded knowingly, squeezing her arm gently against himself as she scooted closer. \n\n\"I ain't drunk, by the way.\" He half-assedly defended himself as she poked at him, a dimple creasing his cheek, \"I'm buzzed, that's all. I *Am* A liar, though. So.\" A sigh. He closed his eyes, smiling feebly to hear of her progress. \n\n\"Your secret's safe with me. But I gotta say I disapprove. You gotta stay put, 'specially in this weather. We need ya back on the dance floor.\" Rhett opened his eyes again as he felt his friend shift, and he faced her as she faced him. He tilted his cheek to her touch as she reached for his hair, like a flower aiming its center at the sun. His eyes fluttered closed again like he couldn't watch her reaction to what he was about to say. \n\n\"It's just Alma. We had a fight. It was big. 'N just after things were goin' so well.\" It was becoming clear that Rhett would need Dimitra to wrench the details from him. In his combination of drunk and bashful, he had taken on a stubbornly reticent approach to sensitive conversation. Maybe she could just keep playing with his hair and they wouldn't have to talk. Touch was healing on its own, but Rhett could unfortunately identify a sinking truth within himself that words would help just as much. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She refrained from making a joke about how Abel could very well crawl into her bed instead of her into his, but there were more pressing matters to attend than proceeding to make sexual innuendos about the man who had taken her in. Was she terrible? Ah, well. \n\nThe meat of it; Alma was mad at him, and of course Rhett was in pieces about it. It was also clear that the full truth of it would need to be dragged out of him— she tugged a strand of his hair before she continued to curl it around her fingers. \"Well, go on. You not wanting to tell me makes me think that you're the one who was in the wrong.\" \n\nDimitra heaved a sigh and like a mother and her wild son, she brought Rhett's head down to rest on her shoulder for a moment. Rhett was as harmless as a fly; she couldn't imagine he'd ever want to hurt Alma or anything like that on purpose. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good if it was a *Big* Fight. \"Can't help you if you're not telling me what's wrong...\" She drawled, letting her head drop back on the pillow and her eyes closed a moment. \"It's also for the best that you try and resolve it as soon as possible,\" She said softly. \"Or else, hurt feelings only get worse.\" She would know."
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Far too easily did Rhett revert to a simple, animalistic state in his inebriation. Like a small, warm, touch-starved creature, he closed his eyes to Dimitra's curling of his hair, and when she guided his head to rest on her shoulder, he sank into the slump, pressing his cold nose to her neck. He allowed himself a few breaths in this configuration before reluctantly straightening again. \n\n\"You're right. 'Course you are.\" He sniffed, subdued, \"I am the one who did the wrong. I mean. I know I am.\" He was getting ahead of himself. Settling in for the story, he pinched a bit of the bedspread between his fingers and fiddled with it as he spoke. \n\n\"It started at the Davis house. The ruins we been fixin' up, workin' on the cage project there. Alma brought everyone together. Told all the volunteers her paw was a monster. I'm sure you heard by now. Folks was upset. Alma wanted ta march straight over ta his office 'n put a bullet in his head, then 'n there. But folks didn't wanna be killers, you know? 'N they came up with all sorts a reasons not ta end him. Like: he could tell us who the other wolves are. 'N he could tell us about why this is all happenin'. 'N– I jus' don't know. At the start I knew she was right. I knew Mayor Cooper needed ta die if he was a wolf. But. The more other folks spoke up, the more it seemed like he didn't. That there were other ways.\" His voice grew dry from talking, and he got quiet for a second to rest it, deciding soon thereafter that he needed a sip from the jar he held, still unlidded. His whistle whet, he went on. \n_ _\n\n\"'N I thought that Alma would see it too. Folks were makin' real good points. I thought maybe she'd change her mind. We all voted on what we wanted to do, and I voted not ta kill him right away. Ask 'im some questions. But I was wrong about Alma, 'n how she'd feel. She ran out, all upset. I ran after her.\" His fidgeting with the blanket intensified, \"I didn't know what she wanted ta hear. I realized it was wrong a me ta go against her. She's always right, you know? She's always so... What's the word?\" The word was *Righteous.* Just. \"She wants to keep folks safe. Protect people. I shouldn't'a voted with the other folks. I knew I shoulda stayed on her side but. I didn't wanna be a killer either, then.\" Truth be told, Rhett still agreed with the people who wanted to imprison Mayor Cooper, and was happy they'd gotten what they wanted. He'd forced himself to align with Alma because his loyalty to her had taken precedent over his own moral code in recent months. He was blinded by his desire to be loved by her. \n\n\"She got real angry, though, Dimitra. When I told her I could change my vote. That I'd been... That I'd been scared. Scared a killin' her paw. She didn't like when I said I'd change my vote, 'n she sure as hell didn't like when I said I was scared. Said she didn't wanna talk to me til I was done bein' scared. Or until she was done bein' angry.\" He swallowed thickly, his heart rate rising as he recalled the argument, \"'N I don't know how ta tell if I'm done bein' scared. I already told her I'm on her side, but she didn't like that somehow. Said I was 'flipfloppin'. 'N I don't wanna make her talk to me if she ain't done bein' angry.\" He sighed, \"I jus' feel like I wrecked it all. I miss her. I wanna go back and have this all never happen.\" \n_ _\n\nHis tone took on a whining quality near the end of his speech, though it was still overall soft and repentant. It hadn't occurred to Rhett that one of the reasons Alma was mad at him was due to his method of remedying the situation. His flip flopping could only be read as an insincere attempt to win back her favor, while the trust was what had broken. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "As much as Dimitra loved to yammer on, she was also a good listener. She let Rhett get it all out, her fingers idly brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck, like he was a dog that needed to be soothed during a thunderstorm. She supposed it wasn't entirely wrong, with the way he curled into affection and seemed to whimper at conflict, but Rhett Sterling wasn't just some dog. He was a good man, and clearly, he hadn't intended to hurt Alma. \n\n\"First off,\" She said, as Rhett's story drew to a close. \"You haven't done anything wrong,\" Dimitra said, sitting up a little more. \"And I think Alma knows that, too, but she's angry. You're allowed to be scared, Rhett— everybody is scared. You're allowed to disagree with her too, even if she disagrees with that. This isn't an easy decision to make.\" \n\nDimitra was sympathetic to both plights. She understood the frustration and agony of Alma's situation, but the fear and the unknown of Rhett's. \"Alma is... Complicated. You've known this from the start,\" She said softly. \"Especially now.\" \n\nGod knows, she'd had her own run-in with Alma; not with her anger, but with her uncertainty and fear. Dimitra hadn't taken it poorly, at least; Alma fleeing her house after they'd shared an... *Intimate* Exchange was a little bruising to the soul but understandable. Alma's emotions ran high, that was for certain. \n\n\"She's upset because you doubled back immediately to make her happy. She probably would've been a little mad if you'd held your ground, but at least you would've been fighting for something.\" Dimitra explained. \"It's not going to be an easy fix, I'll admit.\" \n\nShe sat up a little more and winced, twisting to look at him seriously. \"I think you need to catch her alone. Sit her down, explain yourself thoroughly and don't try and... You know, soften yourself to try and be easy. You say— you know, apologize for hurting her, but tell her your stance is what you believed and you stand by that.\"\n\nDimitra understood what it was like to be a strong-willed woman. God knows, she would feel the same way if a man decided to change his mind on something so big, just because it would please her. She'd be angry; it would feel like he didn't really care. \n\n\"You're a sweet man, Rhett. You don't mean any harm; it's not in you,\" Dimitra said as she touched his cheek kindly. \"Alma is scared. She needs you more than ever, but not to just blindly agree. It's okay to disagree, because I think she needs that right now. Someone to balance her out. If you think it's better to keep him for information, then say that. She's anxious, she's frightened, and she wants to pull a trigger willy-nilly because she thinks it's the right thing to do.\" \n\nAdmittedly, Dimitra felt she would do the same as Alma— but she knew that, in her heart, getting the information first would be the *Smartest* Move. \"Do something that makes her see you care about what she cares about, even if you don't always agree on the means. Does that make sense, sweetheart?\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Oh, but Rhett Sterling *Was* Just some dog. He was *Nothing* If not a dog: begging at the door of anyone with a kind face and a soft heart for strays. Let him in, feed him scraps, and he was loyal forever. He could sit, shake, speak, beg, heel. Just ask. Just show him love, and he'll do anything. If he'd had a tail, it'd be wagging at Dimitra's touch. \n\n*You haven't done anything wrong,* She told him and his brow creased. As much as he wanted to believe her and be the man she saw him as in that moment, he knew he couldn't be. He must have done something wrong. He *Must* Have. Still, sitting with his discomfort, he listened. He wished he could take notes. \n\nAs Dimitra sat up, he rose with her, adjusting his position beside her so as not to put pressure on any of her injured parts, which was difficult. She did have quite a few injured parts. She looked at him squarely and he tried to focus back on her, but his head was spinning with all she'd said so far. *At least you would've been fighting for something.* *Don't try to soften yourself.* *Don't blindly agree.*\n\nWas that all what he was doing? Softening himself, and blindly agreeing? Placing himself back on the path outside the ruins, he recalled the argument. Immediately upon breaking free of the debate crowd, he'd remembered why he'd been on Alma's side, refreshed by her passion as she spun to face him. But, the crowd– he could remember that too. Fear and judgment and attempts at reason had swirled and gnashed in tones too painfully discordant. Rhett had thought he could make the dissonance dissolve by agreeing with it, only to be met by Alma's own barrage of frenzied music minutes later. Dimitra's advice seemed to guide him away from his instinct of fleeing chaos entirely, and instead encouraged him to harmonize with it. It was true that he couldn't run from loud places forever, clinging to the first person who offered a quiet sanctuary. He needed to find the sanctuary of quiet inside himself. \n_ _\n\nNone of this would occur to the Sterling boy tonight, for Dimitra was the sanctuary of quiet he'd sought, and he intended to fill the resonant chambers of his heart with her calm reasoning until he was soundless and ready for the world again. This process included feverishly agreeing with her advice, even though his drunken mind was still processing it. He sighed a cleansing sigh. \n\n\"Yes, ma'am.\" Rhett nodded, closing his eyes and slouching down against the pillow so his face was aimed at the crook of Dimitra's neck. Her advice was spinning behind his eyelids like the flashes of bicycle spokes. \n\n\"I *Do* Care what she cares about. I– I guess I thought that was how ta show her. She'll be so mad if after all this time that's gone by since we argued... If all I got ta say is that I'm glad for what's happened. Glad her paw's not dead.\" He briefly revived himself to sit up straight for more moonshine. His thoughts were getting that knotted sober feeling. He couldn't have that. He took a too-big gulp and coughed a bit, setting the jar on the nightstand. \n\"I'on't like *Fighting.*\" He winced, \"Why do I gotta *Fight* For somethin' when I could–\" *There.* There it was! He caught himself in the thought: *When I could just go along with the right idea.* Here, it became clear why a fight was a necessary thing, at least some of the time. It became clear how Alma would have valued a demonstration of conviction, even if it was in opposition to her own. \n\n\"She... Thought I was bein' spineless.\" He admitted, his eyes glazing over at the wall opposite the bed, \"I... *Was* Bein' spineless.\" Looking back at Dimitra, there was panic in his eyes as the moonshine worked to dismantle the clarity he'd just resolved. \n\n\"You really think she could forgive me if I... If I told her I stood by what I said?\" His tail was between his legs. Here was the dog, come back with mud on his paws. *Will you still let me in?* \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She let the man beside her work through everything. She could see the way his eyebrows knit together, the twist of his lips, the clenching of his jaw as he tried to make sense of it all in his moonshine-soaked brain. \"See? Pretty *And* Smart. You're a whole damn package, Rhett Sterling,\" She told him, idly brushing some hair off his forehead in a moment of minute affection. \n\n\"I think Alma's probably been waiting to have this conversation since you two fought,\" She admitted, taking the moonshine jar away from him... If only to have a sip of her own. And by sip, she took a gulp, feeling it warm her from the inside out. \"Alma cares for you, lover or friend,\" She reminded him. \"She might have Charlie, but you're family too. Now, it must seem like you're some of the only family she's got left.\" \n\nShe couldn't imagine how betrayed Alma had to feel— her father, a werewolf. Could her mother have known? She figured it had to be tense, if she was living with the Sterlings all this time. That alone meant she trusted them innately; of course Alma had been hurt and upset with Rhett. One of the people she trusted most had come across as a spineless boy who only served to nod his head and say yes to whatever she said just to placate her— and maybe some of that had a glimmer of truth, but Rhett Sterling wasn't a bad person. He was a good boy, with a good heart, and Dimitra was a sympathetic bystander behind a glass wall. \n\n\"I think she would be more than happy to forgive you if you sit down and talk about this,\" She told him, letting the man settle back down and tuck in closer to her. \"Because at the end of the day... You both want the same thing,\" She said, fingers back at their task of making little curls in Rhett's hair. \"To keep this town safe. To protect people.\" \n\nDimitra could feel her body getting tired, and she yawned a little. \"And when you finally kiss and make up, I want to know every little detail, of course.\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Rhett let himself linger over Dimitra's compliment of *Pretty* For too long as he put off processing the more serious words that followed. He'd have to ask her more about that later. In his drunken state, the topic shuffled from his mind the second she swept his hair back from his face. He closed his eyes to the touch. \n\n\"You're always so sure a what you're talkin' about. How'd you git so smart, huh?\" He repaid her a compliment of sorts in exchange for the one she'd awarded. He was sure Dimitra was right, that Alma would be receptive to conversation. Alma was so patient. So understanding. He thought of her gentle hands hovering near his, both of them poised at the typewriter in the kitchen of the shack. She'd spent so much time pointing to the different keys, helping him spell out words he'd only ever spoken when they were writing letters to send for supplies from the city. \n\nHe supposed that was all part of the shock of their recent fight: how those gentle lamplit nights looked, superimposed over the violent passion of the scene at the Ruins. This trial was just another way of knowing Alma. It was another opportunity to learn how to love her better. \n\nRhett's eyes only opened again at the sound of his friend's yawn. Although he didn't want to remove himself from the warmth of her company, or from the diligence of her hands in his hair, she was a convalescing woman. She needed her peace. He gave a last giggle at her semi-crass suggestion before he sat up and swung his feet down to the floor, careful not to snag his boots on the bedspread. \n\n_ _\n\n\"Don't worry. If Alma lets me near her again, you'll know it. I'll be runnin' down Main Street throwin' rose petals in the air.\" He smiled, tired. He got to his feet with a slight stumble and stretched, unfolding his long limbs with a soft grunt. Turning to Dimitra, he leaned down again to press a warm kiss to her cheek. \n\n\"I'll leave you be. Too much excitement is bad for your stitches.\" He muttered, smile still in place. \n\"Don't let the preacher catch you with that moonshine, now,\" Rhett warned, taking one last healthy gulp before capping the jar and nestling it onto her bedside table, \"That's for emergency purposes only, you hear?\" He took a few clumsy backwards steps to the window, his parting words coloring his brown eyes warm.\n\n\"Thank you, Dimitra. Sleep tight, now.\" With that, Rhett turned and crept back out the way he'd come. Dimitra would be able to hear the muffled crashing of flora underfoot, and the quiet cursing that followed, as Rhett stumbled off into the night. \n_ _"
}
] | 458 | 6,339 |
799.571429 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Nathaniel Ashworth",
"message": "House calls were excellent excuses to get to know the town better. Nathaniel did his best to remember how the streets connected and which house belonged to whom, but he knew it would be some time before it would come naturally to him. Nevertheless, he enjoyed his walk, the feeling of early spring hung in the air as nature had slowly started to rouse again. He himself had been roused by means of a cup of coffee, as he so often did.\n\nThe cream-coloured house that he'd been looking for came into view. He noted the presence of a ramp and stairs. He'd been told that James occasionally used a wheelchair, otherwise relying on crutches. It was good to see that the house had been adapted to suit James' needs. \n\nUpon knocking on the front door of the Jennings abode and waiting a bit, it swung open and Nathaniel was greeted by who he could only assume to be James' father. \"Good day to you sir. I'm Doctor Ashworth, a pleasure to meet you.\" He shook hands as he introduced himself. \"I'm lookin' for mister James Jennings, would he happen to be home?\"\n\nAs luck had it, James was home and Nathaniel was led to his room by Daniel Jennings, who was indeed his father. Nathaniel waited outside the room while Daniel checked if it was alright to enter. The other man was sitting at a desk, drawing something Nathaniel couldn't quite make out from his current angle. He gave James a friendly smile as he walked in.\n\n\"Good mornin' mister Jennings. My name's Doctor Ashworth. In the wake of Doctor Olander's unfortunate leavin', I'll serve as Briar Ridge's doctor for the foreseeable future.\" He wasn't planning on going anywhere, but given the town's track record for bloodshed, could one truly be sure? \"It seemed only right for me to make a house call to personally introduce myself and get to know you properly. I understand I'll get to see you regularly?\"\n_ _\n\nForging connections, especially with patients who he'd be seeing often, was incredibly important to Nathaniel. He wanted to be more than just some far-removed medical professional. He cared for those he was charged to, well, *Care* For, and not just in the healing sense. It was easy to look at a file and see a number, but there were people with lives and dreams and hopes behind each and every one of those files. Lives that he wanted them to live as comfortably and with as much quality as he had the power to ensure."
},
{
"author": "James Jennings",
"message": "James was simply sitting in his room when Nathaniel approached the home. He didn't have to work today so it was going to be pretty relaxed, the man occupying himself with some art. He was doing some anatomy studies since he really wanted to get better at drawing faces and bodies. He was pretty good at drawing animals and plants in his art style but people were always a bit tricky. He and his father had enjoyed breakfast together earlier that morning, complete with some toast, jam, eggs, and coffee. While they sold most of their product James was still glad to keep a hold of some jars of jam and preserves for their personal use. Dan was planning on going out to stock up on supplies and prune the blackberries sometime today, leaving James to find something to do for himself. He initially asked over breakfast if his father wanted company coming into town but was met with a simple shrug, Dan stating he'd rather his son rest up. A few days earlier he didn't use his wheelchair when he probably should've, and while he wasn't in that much pain today he knew that his father definitely wanted to be on the safe side. It didn't hurt James' feelings at all though, Dan instead pivoting and asking if there was anything James wanted while he was in town proper. He didn't really need anything but was simply happy to have been asked.\n\nHe managed to grab a book on human anatomy from the library and was using it as a reference while he drew out musculature in his signature scribbly style. James nearly dropped the stick of charcoal in his hand when he heard a knock on the door, the young man wracking his brain to figure out who it could be. Just as he was beginning to rise from his seat and grab his crutches to get the door he heard his father call out, \"I got it!\" With a soft exhale James plopped back down in his seat, turning back to his drawing.\n\nRight now he was working on arms and torso muscles, his hand moving in swirling, sketching motions while his ears strained to listen to the soft commotion by the door. He heard a voice he didn't recognize but with it came the friendly tone of his father. He could catch snippets such as his father saying, \"Pleasure to meet you too!\", and \"Yeah, he's home! Right this way, Doc.\" It was a doctor apparently but Dr. Oleander was gone. He knew a new doctor recently set up shop but he hadn't met them yet. Before he could ruminate on what they might look like, another knock drew him away from his thoughts, James twisting his body to face the doorway.\n\n\"James, can I come in? The new doctor wanted to stop by and see ya.\" He heard his father say behind the door, Dan knocking on the door with his knuckles but only reaching for the doorknob when he got some response. \"Oh, yeah, come on in!\" James eventually called back, fully setting his charcoal stick down on his desk and becoming increasingly aware of the black dust covering his fingers. James was dressed in a simple buttonless shirt, baggy pants that doubled as pajama pants, and soft white socks. Without shoes his club foot was very easy to see, the foot itself twisting inward and naturally resting on its side. It wasn't long before the door creaked open fully, Daniel letting Dr. Ashworth in promptly. He remained by the doorway until the doctor finished his introduction. Absentmindedly James grabbed a piece of tissue on his desk and did his best to rub the charcoal residue from his quivering hands.\n\nMeanwhile, James looked up at the new doctor with a smile, not really knowing what this was about but assuming it had to do with getting to know the townsfolk better. James simply sat in silence, only nodding to show he understood that Dr. Ashworth would be his new doctor until further notice.\n\nOnce Nathaniel was finished talking James piped up, \"You'd be correct! It's a pleasure to meet you, doctor. Um, is it okay if we sit on my bed? It's softer anyway and I've been sitting in this chair for a bit too long.\" Ending his comment with a chuckle he heard his father speak up from the doorway. \"Seems like y'all have it under control. I'll be in the kitchen if either of you need me for anything, m'kay?\" Dan explains, his son James nodding in understanding before the Jennings patriarch was gone.\n\nIf Nathaniel were to approve of sitting side by side on his bed James was quick to move, grabbing both of his forearm crutches by the handles and using them to help him to his feet. He didn't bother tucking his arms into the belts since he wasn't going that far anyway, simply leaning on them to help him wander to his bed without issue. Truth be told, his left ankle and knee were still giving him some trouble (or more trouble than usual) so he wanted to keep as much weight off of them as possible. Plopping down on his bed James set his crutches aside again, leaning them against the bed frame while he watched Nathaniel, still smiling gently. No matter where they were, however, James was quick to speak back up to jumpstart a new conversation. \"Elias- er, Dr. Oleander, he would often just see if my legs were getting worse or not, look for muscular atrophy, joint deformity, that sort of thing. Shortly before he left my father consulted him about me potentially getting a wheelchair.\" James began, gesturing with his head to the corner of the room where a wheelchair made of wood and metal sat. \"I probably should be using it a bit more but, um, I'm getting used to it.\""
},
{
"author": "Nathaniel Ashworth",
"message": "\"By all means, please sit wherever you are most comfortable.\" Sitting on the bed with James felt a bit too familiar for Nathaniel. \"If you don't mind, I think I'll sit across from you instead of next to you, gives me a better view.\" He tried to deny the offer as kindly as he could, not wanting to come across as rude. He instead opted for the chair James had been sitting in, moving it so he could be seated facing James.\n\nThe fact that James had taken it upon himself to move around, without needing prompting, meant Nathaniel was now able to observe the gait of the man as naturally as he could in the current setting. People had the tendency to walk differently when asked to do so and with the knowledge that they were being observed. Even if the difference was slight, it remained a change. With James not fully aware that Nathaniel was studying his movements, that change could be mostly avoided. Perhaps it was a silly thing to be pleased about, but that didn't stop Doctor Ashworth, who was looking for signs of overcompensation or shifting weight in odd ways, anything that might indicate there was an issue that needed addressing. He could see James was pulling on his left side and placing more weight on his right side, which made sense given the man's club foot there. \"Has your left leg been botherin' you more in recent times?\" He asked, as he sat down.\n_ _\n\nHe listened intently as James listed what Dr. Oleander had done for him, nodding as he took in the information. Nathaniel was no expert on James' condition, in fact he considered himself a true expert on very little. Sure, there were procedures he'd done countless times, illnesses he'd seen and diagnosed on numerous occasions, and actions that had since become routine. However, the diversity of the human body meant that there were endless combinations that could be made, and no two patients were alike. The same illness could present very differently from one person to the next. That was what his mind enjoyed most about medicine, you truly never knew what to expect, you never stopped learning. The field of medicine was ever-changing and ever-advancing, all Nathaniel could do was try to keep up and continue learning. Diligent, that was something he did consider himself to be, as well as hungry for knowledge. The main focus remained on care and healing, but he would be lying if he said he didn't get immense enjoyment from the science behind his occupation.\n\nJames had started using a wheelchair, something Nathaniel expected came with a steep learning curve, not just in usage but in acceptance that one's body was in need of more help. He smiled at James' admission that he hadn't been using it as much as he should have been. \"I understand that, it cannot be easy to adapt to a whole different means of movin' around the world,\" He said. \"On the days where you have been usin' it, I hope it has been helpful?\" He wanted to see if his wheelchair needed adapting or if it was serving James well already. \"If usin' it causes pain in your upper body we can see about adjustin' it to suit you better. I wouldn't want to replace one pain with another.\" That would defeat the whole purpose of the aid."
},
{
"author": "James Jennings",
"message": "James really didn't mind Nathaniel deciding to just sit in the chair across from him, giving an indifferent shrug before getting up to make his way towards his bed. He didn't notice Dr. Ashworth watching his gait but even if he did he wouldn't have minded too much. He almost always favored his right side in some capacity but it was probably much more noticeable now with added pain in his ankle and knee. Nevertheless, he made it over to his bed without issue, plopping down with a sigh and peering back at Nathaniel who was now seated, a smile never leaving his face even when he was asked specifically about his left leg. For a second James hesitated, thinking of what to say despite the answer being quite simple even if it entailed details that were difficult to admit to. \"It tends to give me more trouble than my right leg but that's just because of my club foot here.\" James eventually admitted, slightly moving his left leg up for emphasis with an even slighter grimace but not by much. His walk usually consisted of more shuffling than was typical since it was sometimes hard to really lift his legs or move them with precision with constantly tense muscles and tendons, but he did his best here without overworking himself. He wouldn't be lying if the increase in tension lifting his leg up by the hip was uncomfortable, though.\n\n\"I... Might've pushed myself a bit too hard a few days ago so my knee and ankle are still a bit sore.\" James continued with an embarrassed chuckle, feeling quite guilty for doing so when he should've used his chair that day instead. Nevertheless, he continued, explaining more of what the old doctor did during their regular appointments and the fact that he recently got a wheelchair. Something he didn't entirely want to admit was that he was sort of in denial that things were getting worse.\n\nIt was slow but even with his current regimen of stretches, exercises, and massages he wasn't immune to how naturally things would wear down faster due to the nature of his condition. It wasn't that he didn't like the fact he needed a wheelchair, he was actually really happy to not be in pain as much, but it still served as a reminder that things were probably going to keep getting harder to do. However, if he kept pushing himself too much it would be even faster of a development, but he was sort of in denial of that too.\n\nWith that being said he did feel somewhat glad that Dr. Ashworth was aware of how difficult it might be to transition from solely using crutches to using both crutches *And* A wheelchair, James nodding along in agreement with that statement and the other about it hopefully being helpful when he did use it.\n\n\"It hasn't caused me any pain in my back, not really at least. I've been tryin' not to slouch that much when using it to prevent that since I already have bad posture. Although, I have started sitting on a shallow pillow when I know I'll be sittin' in it for a long time. You know how it is, when your behind starts hurtin' from sitting so much.\" James eventually began to answer, remembering the first time he used it during Sunday service and neglected to consider just how long he'd be sitting still. \n\nSpeaking of service, James decided to speak on that exact matter, \"It's definitely helped me a lot when Sunday comes along. I don't know what's all in my file but I work at the church helping Abel. He's been showing me the ropes of bein' a pastor for a few years now and the pain I got from standin' for so long was sort of what motivated my dad to convince me to invest in a wheelchair. In my first year it was fine but by the second and now third it made it so that I was out of commission for a whole day after, and the soreness that came with it only really went away by Wednesday or Thursday when it was at it's worst. I guess the change was easier to see from the outside since for me it was pretty gradual.\""
},
{
"author": "Nathaniel Ashworth",
"message": "Nathaniel nodded as he listened to James talk of his symptoms, jotting some of it down on a small notepad he pulled from his bag. Admitting to the limitations of one's body was never easy, he could imagine it being even harder for James, whose physical limitations did not fit within the mold that people, and medicine too, had decided was normal and proper. He gave James an understanding smile when the man mentioned having pushed himself too far. Nathaniel was more than familiar with doing just that. He was in the habit of staying up late reading, seeing people outside clinic hours, _of course I can squeeze you in_ when the schedule was already packed, occasionally skipping meals or being unable to sleep as he mulled over actions he could have done instead. He'd fallen asleep at his desk more often than he'd ever admit out loud, it was a habit that had started back in medical school and he'd never quite lost it. He was unfamiliar with the concept of slowing down, maybe he'd read about it someday. Besides, he did do fun things, occasionally. Always paired with a lingering sense of guilt. If he was sitting on his couch doing crossword puzzles, that meant an actually useful task was not being done.\n\n\"It could be good for you to still occasionally get up, or lift yourself out of that sittin' position if you can, to avoid things like the pain you mentioned from sittin' all day. It can be as little as just pushin' yourself up by your armrests to temporarily take pressure off the area that is in contact with the cushion,\" He said, motioning with his arms, pushing against imaginary armrests. \"If that is somethin' you can do yourself, that is great, otherwise perhaps your father or other people you trust could help with that as well. I am not that worried about pressure sores seein' as you still walk regularly, but if you start noticin' any pains or spots in those areas be sure to let me know and I'll see how we might improve that.\"\n_ _\n\nNathaniel wasn't religious himself, but he saw the appeal of the sense of community that it came with. Congregations took care of their own, he hoped the church looked after James as well. \"I wasn't aware you were a pastor in trainin', that is wonderful James,\" He said, fully genuine. In Nathaniel's mind, clergy was not a path that people chose without feeling a calling for it. If James had found his calling, that was something to be celebrated. \"We are often the last ones to be aware of our own bodies limitations, like you said, the gradual nature of your condition makes it even harder to notice. And even when we're aware of the limitations we have, it is hard to accept we them isn't it?\" James might very well be able to see that Nathaniel was speaking from personal experience, and didn't everyone have times where they pushed themselves too far? \"Are you still able to do all parts of that trainin'? I'm afraid I'm not too sure what pastoral trainin' entails,\" He said and smiled."
},
{
"author": "James Jennings",
"message": "**Cw: description of insects emerging from burrows and stuff (just in a metaphor relating to how words are hard to formulate when you get nervous. I added this as a content warning just in case lmao)**\n\nJames nodded along as Dr. Ashworth talked about things to do to maybe relieve any discomfort sitting in his wheelchair could cause, repeating them in his head to sort of burn it in. *'Lift yourself up now and again, lift yourself up, lift, lift, lift...'* James thought, eventually stopping to focus back on the conversation fully. He could definitely push himself up with his arms like Nathaniel was demonstrating but he might need help if he were to fully stand, either using a solid surface nearby or someone else's steady arm or hand to push himself upright. Thankfully he didn't have any sores but also made sure to commit to memory the invitation to contact Nathaniel if he ever noticed any. \n\nThis house call felt almost like an actual conversation between peers rather than an appointment or like a wonderfully strange combination of the two, something James definitely enjoyed and felt more appreciative of as Dr. Ashworth responded with intrigue to his job and also tied it back in with the topic of their meeting. The tone the man before him took felt nice, it felt genuine and curious but not in an object or puzzle way if that made any sense, never straying too far off track. James simply flashed a bright smile and muttered *\"Thank you\"* Before the conversation shifted towards limitations and accommodations again.\n\nHis bright smile softened but still never left, James not knowing what to say so he just nodded in agreement at the end, his gaze looking away and instead down to his lap, his shaking hands starting to fidget with each other quietly.\n\nIt wasn't uncomfortableness he felt at the weight of what Nathaniel just said but something else, something he couldn't quite place that made his hands need to move and gaze need to avert lest his head burst into flames and eyes turn to waterfalls. *'Yes, it really is hard to accept it. I'm glad you understand, you sound like you do.'* James thought not in words but in feeling and abstract images, the words to describe it not emerging from the wrinkles in his brain correctly. Like little beetles they emerged from their burrows fully grown but deformed in a way that made them unidentifiable, fluttering off into nothing before they could be properly inspected and documented.\n\nAt the mention of his training James perked up again, breaking away from mental images of emerging cicadas and tiger beetles. As if on cue his smile brightened back up and he felt able to look the doctor in the face again, nodding to confirm he was still able to do his training and was more than eager to explain what exactly it all was. \"It's mostly cognitive and interpersonal stuff.\" James began, the only physically difficult part being the standing during service. \"I've learned a lot about public speaking and planning speeches. My handwriting isn't the best but I have a good memory so it's not like I have to read off of a script. A lot of it was also analyzing text and learning how to decide which passages to use and how many should be included. If you have too many it may get overwhelming and take up more time than needed so selecting a few that best support and represent the overall message you want to convey is very important. I have my own bible that's fully annotated with different colors which also helps speed the process up of developing a speech that has a relevant message.\" He continued, eventually using that to transition into the things that were still a bit difficult or gave him trouble.\n\n\n\"Now that I use my wheelchair on Sundays I'm a lot happier and attentive because I'm not in pain by the end but I still sometimes have these weird twitches in my wrist when I'm up at the front. Um... My muscles sometimes lock up in weird positions or make my wrists or neck jerk around when I'm stressed or really tired. I've only had my wrist give me trouble so far and I was able to keep it under control by holding my arm until Sunday service was over but I'm a bit worried if or when I get a really bad one in my neck or jaw and might have to end service early.\" James said, his voice getting a bit quieter as he never really liked admitting to his fears since it might dampen the mood - despite the fact that honesty such as this was what Dr. Ashworth was here for. \"I'm sure Abel would understand just like he did with me needing a wheelchair but I'm still worried about the *What if's*, ya know? I know I should probably talk to him about making a plan in case something bad *Does* Happen but I've been putting it off because I'm afraid of what he'll say.\""
},
{
"author": "Nathaniel Ashworth",
"message": "James broke eye contact and started fidgeting when Nathaniel brought up the topic of acceptance, it seemed to be a somewhat sore topic for the man before him. He couldn't blame him for finding it an unpleasant subject. His work within the church clearly held the opposite charge, bringing James right back into the conversation. There was passion and love for the job there, something Nathaniel recognized and shared, albeit for a different field. He nodded as James laid out the details. Nathaniel gathered that the man was intelligent and seemed to have things figured out very well already, accommodating himself where it was needed. \"I never knew being a preacher required that much research,\" He admitted, impressed by the dedication and work James had put into it all. He hadn't been raised in any religion. The only things his parents worshiped were money and success, and in their eyes, one was synonymous with the other. \n_ _\n\n\"I am very glad to hear the wheelchair has been helpin' you,\" He said. \"The twitches and lockin' up, that does sound painful,\" He said, thinking on it for a second. If there was a medication out there that could target specific muscle groups and could be easily and safely administered by James himself, Nathaniel didn't know about it. He'd have to do more research to see if such a thing existed, surely that could help James with his muscles locking up. \"Massaging those muscles offers some relief right? I will do more readin' and see if there is somethin' that we can do beyond that to make those episodes more bearable and shorter,\" He promised. Ideally, he'd want to stop them from occurring in the first place, but he couldn't perform actual miracles, even if he wished he could. \"The usual applies, which I am sure you are already aware of,\" He started. \"Gettin' a good amount of sleep and rest should help, but that is always easier said than done.\" He smiled. \"The same goes for takin' care of your body and not pushin' yourself beyond your limits. Makin' Saturdays slower days could help, if that is at all possible so that you have less to worry about on Sundays,\" He suggested, undoubtedly James had already considered that.\n_ _\n\n\"I could help draft up a plan if you think it would make that conversation a little easier,\" He offered. \"Of course, you are the expert here on what is and is not possible within the church and regarding Abel. But from what I gather, not havin' that plan in place is a source of stress for you?\" He asked. \"And if stress makes you more prone to gettin' these episodes then it might be beneficial to have somethin' to fall back on in case one such 'what if' does come to pass,\" He said gently. \"You very well might never need to utilize that plan,\" He reassured. \"But I do believe that it might bring you some peace of mind. I, or someone you trust, can always come along to advocate for you as well, if Abel does react unkindly to it. But somethin' tells me he may not be very likely to do so. Church is about carin' for your neighbors right, and you're one of them,\" He pointed out.\n\n|| I remember you saying that the meds don't exist yet... Man..."
}
] | 695 | 5,597 |
575.111111 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "The last time they had done something like this, it was right before Fall began, before Akira became a victim to the werewolves' never ending hunger. Ever since then, Kela and Aki found themselves in difficult times, just like the rest of Briar Ridge.\n\n The man was one of the few witnesses of her change. He had noticed how distant she became, he saw her gradual change from a gentle, hardworking farmer, to a woman who clung to alcohol in the nights for comfort, someone whose body was becoming more broken as the full moons came and went. In only two seasons, Akira changed.\n\nBut despite everything, she and Kela were still best friends, just like on the first day the Hirano set foot in town. Now that Spring had finally arrived, and with her wounds slowly healing, the two saw the chance to finally return to one of their most favorite pastimes. Akira hadn't looked this excited in months, as the dates lined up perfectly with Hanami celebrations. She wondered what her family back home were up to, probably all dressed up watching the cherry blossoms, indulging in Granma's cooking. At any point, Akira would expect a letter from then. \n\n A part of her couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. Was it right to be selfish for one day and not think about the future of Briar Ridge? Was she allowed to smile? The short and uncomplicated answer was yes. If anything taught her in the last few months, it was that she deserved to stay breathing, if not for her, for her loved ones. Self destruction was no longer the answer if she could help bringing a bright future. \n\nAs soon as she put on her most comfortable outfit, she began to brew the last batch of green tea. She even took some baked goods for the occasion! Though, granted, these cakes were made by Jade. What mattered was that she had done all this by herself and without help.\n\nWith everything put neatly together in a basket, Akira wasted no time to go next door. Such a small act of independence was enough to make her smile. Aki could\n\nBe happy with so little, perhaps she didn't change at all. \n\n\"Kela-Kun!\" She called out from the porch, her excitement was audible by the way she used the small honorific to his name, a habit she picked up over the years.\n\n\"I'm here~\""
},
{
"author": "Kela Kahawai",
"message": "From his attic bedroom, with its low ceiling and small windows, Kela could lie on his front in bed and see the path that led up to the porch. In the free time he had that wasn't taken up with farm work or delivering goods to various homes across town, or indeed with visiting his friends or simply going for a walk down to the riverbank, he had developed a habit of lying there atop his mattress and wondering when she would come. \n\nThe trees had bloomed in pink and white, and for years, that had been his and Akira's shared sign that springtime had well and truly nestled into the streets and hearts of Briar Ridge. Before her, the seasons changing had never meant much to Kela - he had been someone who preferred to be indoors or under the cover of darkness, learning to enjoy his own company more and more as he'd grown older. But then he had met Aki, and her love of the warm weather and the petals drifting through the bluest skies that the Appalachians had to offer... Well, they had been somewhat infectious. And she had taught him to love them too. \n\nHe had wondered if she would come this year. The blossoms' arrival had almost perfectly coincided with her injury as March drew to a close and April unfurled its wings, and she had (or so he'd thought) perhaps been too consumed by other things to prioritise or even recall their tradition. \n\nThe first warm night of each true spring, as the sun came to set the sky alight with peach and gold, Aki and Kela would take tea and treats and blankets out to one yard or another, and side by side would watch the stars come out, like pin-pricks in the cloak of the night sky. They would share in their own private version of the traditional tea ritual that the Hirano had brought with them from their far-off homeland, and Kela would find the constellations overhead and tell Aki the stories, even though she surely could have recited them herself from memory by now.\n\nEach time he told them to her as though they were brand new. \n\nSo as he saw her approaching with her basket, he had leapt from his bed and almost flown down the uneven staircase in what felt like a single step, so quickly that by the time she called for him, he was already pulling open the door. \nIf she hadn't had the basket and its precious contents in hand, he'd have picked her up and spun her around and around until they were both dizzy.\nAs it was, he simply threw his arms around her, and squeezed and squeezed with the intent to not let go until she fought to get away. \n\n\"I was starting to think you'd forget this year, Aka-chan. I'm so glad you're here.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "With the weight of tomorrow, it made sense for Kela to assume their tradition came to a halt. But Akira never forgot, nor did she want to cut the ties that made her feel still alive in the face of the horrors Briar Ridge had been facing for almost a year. Coming to the Appalachian, the last thing the Hirano expected was to find a real community, people they could call friends, a place to call home. Kela was part of her family now, something the woman had sworn to herself to not lose after being away from her own blood on the other side of the world. \n\nThe woman smiled from ear to ear just by seeing him, and put no resistance as he embrace her. She tried to return the gesture in her own ways, using her one arm carefully as she still held the basket, cursing herself for not being able to squeeze him back like she used to. Her body still needed to recover, but at the very least she could still show her love through her actions. \n\nAkira laughed, sometimes it was hard to tell whether she did it to cope with her pain, but Kela at that point would know her for long enough when she faked her. This time, she was being genuine, for she felt accepted and safe. She was in a place where she could still experience what was to be in the community she had first seen when she moved to town.\n\n\"Of course I didn't forget!\" Aki said, looking up as she still held Kela, with her head barely reaching his chest. \n\n\"I brought the usual here, and something new, I brought some cakes!....I didn't make them.\" \n\nOf course she didn't make them, but she had to let Kela know before worrying him over her potentially creating a biohazard. Akira tried to cook, she made her best attempt and she could make decent soups, plain rice and grilled meats (she'd sometimes burn them, but she'd defend what little pride she had in her by saying she liked crunchy textures.). Everything else was uncharted territory for her, and American Southen cooking both confused her while it became a an exotic fascination. She\n\nAttempted to make cookies once for Christmas, and she almost burnt the whole kitchen down, much for Kela's amusement and Mako's horror. \n\n\"I had a friend bake some for me and otōsan while I was still recovering, but I think she overestimated the quantities a bit.\" Akira laughed, making the rare of display of her mixing English and Japanese together into her speech, something so unusual in her that perhaps only the Kahawai family were one of the few to experience it. \n\n\"How's Lani and your parents? I can say I got enough tea and cakes for them, too.\" The woman followed, making her way to put everything she had brought on the dining table, giving her one arm some rest."
},
{
"author": "Kela Kahawai",
"message": "He allowed her into the farmhouse with a smile, pausing only to close the door behind her as he followed. \nHow he had missed her voice as it were now, unladen with the burden of all that she carried with her day by day, laughing and smiling as she deserved to - as he wished she always could. There were not words for the things that she meant to him, at least not ones that he knew. Had he been able to, he would have given all he had and more to have her beaming and smiling in his midst always. To take from her what lay upon her shoulders and leave her light as the blossoms carried by the breeze, with that tell-tale sparkle in her eye, and a joyous lilt to her tone like the music he so loved.\nWhile he couldn't ensure her happiness all of the time, he could at least treasure each moment of the nights like these. \n\nHe watched her from the doorway, leaning on the frame as she unpacked her basket onto the table. He could pick out the teapot, watch as soft plumes of steam came in wisps from its spout when it was set down, and he wondered how long it had taken her to do all of this - to brew the delicate leaves, to pack up the treats into small parcels and fit them into the basket just so, and how much effort she had put in to their tradition. It warmed his heart and broke it at the same time. She was just so... *Strong*. Infallible, really. Briar Ridge - no, more, the world - had dealt her a hand that seemed doomed to lose time and time again, and yet, Akira persevered. She got up, and climbed higher, and when she fell, she would get back up again. \nIf he could be even half so strong as she were one day, he would be a better man. \n\n\"Lani's doing great. She's almost top of her class at school, can you believe it? She definitely takes after her mama... Malia was the smartest kid her age too.\"\n\nAs he often did, he glanced upwards at the mention of his late sister's name. Could she see him? See her daughter following in her footsteps, learning and growing by the day? And could she see that he was growing, too, even now? That he was trying?\n\"She and my father will be out herding the goats in now, I'm sure they'll be in any minute. Mama went to see Mrs Lovejoy - something about pastry.\" He smiled. \"You're too kind to us, you know. Bringing all these sweet things. What can I do to be useful?\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "To remain strong was the only option people of Briar Ridge had in times like this. Akira was one of them, though she always remained quiet, like a storm about to happen at any moment. Kela must had been one of the few witnesses of her struggles, the one to see through her many layers. He had seen her fall again and again with the only choice to pick herself up. In truth, without people like him, Aki would had long since left this life. She could had easily fallen victim to her own apathy and self hatred, she had been close to the point of no return far too many times.\n\n\"Oh, I wouldn't doubt it one bit, Lani surely is gonna go places when she grows up! Mark my words.\" She laughed.\n\nTo be called kind always gave Akira a kind of heartache she found hard to describe. It came natural for her to stay gentle despite what the world threw at her, she could take almost any kind of hit, and still bow and pray for forgiveness like a mistreated hound who disappointed its owner. Her life had been a path of redemption and self sacrifice to the point that she had become a danger to herself.\n\nAnd even then, she felt her actions hadn't been enough. She wasn't enough, almost as if Akira had to be the one to take all the responsibility and the blame for simply existing.\n\n\"Pfft, you're the one who is too kind, Kela-kun.\" She said. \"Though now that I think about it... You can help me set this up? I can bring the food, maybe you can bring the blankets and the tea?\" \n\nTheir small picnic didn't have to be complicated or fancy. It was just two friends sitting on the farmhouse backyard, with something good to eat and drink. It was all Akira asked, it was all her heart needed.\n\nShe could see her home as soon as she stepped outside, smiling at the thought of her father finally getting a full night's rest. If anyone deserved peace more than anyone, it had to be him.\n\n\"Ah, good to see the sky being so clear tonight.\" Aki added, almost as if nature had given them this gift just so\n\nThey could go back in time. \n\n\"It seems like nothing has changed... Other than I see more goats around.\" She laughed."
},
{
"author": "Kela Kahawai",
"message": "Kela smiled, for Aki had been something special to Lani ever since the day they met, when the young girl had been little more than a baby, running through the long grass and laughing and calling out to *Auntie Aki*, or *ʻanakē*, from the moment she knew her name. Aki was Lani's hero, and Kela only wished that the rest of Briar Ridge would take the time to see her that way too. \"She will. If anyone makes it out of here, it'll be her, and I can't wait til the day I see it.\"\n\nHe nodded and obliged when she asked for his help, glad to assist in whatever way he could. The blankets were neatly folded in a basket by the fireplace, and he took care to pick out the same ones they always used - a thick woven one to cover the grass and protect them from any evening dew, and a large, well-worn woolen thing to cover their shoulders as the chill would no doubt set in thanks to the sun having slipped low on the horizon. \n\nTraditions were wonderful things in their simplicity. Both Akira's and his own culture held the past in high regard, and it felt like an honour to both of their ancestors to not only respect the doings of days gone by, but to have formed a pattern all of their own, one they'd pass down to Lani when she was old enough to stay up past dark, and then, perhaps, on to children of their own that they'd have one day. \nAkira would make an excellent mother, should she choose that path. As to what his own future held in terms of family, Kela wasn't so sure, but he hoped that there would be many young minds to feed their stories to, when the time was right. \n\nHe took the teapot carefully - the last thing he wanted to do was spill her hard work across the floorboards in his all-too-common clumsiness - and followed her out into the yard, lit by the glow of a waning moon and the few stars that were beginning to prick through the night sky's own blanket. They were late, but it didn't matter.\n\nThe night belonged to them, and there was nothing on this earth that could take it away from them. Time faded into triviality when Kela and Akira were alone with nothing but the constellations and the gods to observe them.\n\n\"It's a sign. The summer will come soon,\" He murmured, and he could only hope, for he longed for it, for the humid heat broken by the short relief of night, for each day lengthening minutes at a time, for flowers to bloom forth in their masses and for greenery to cover all the blood that had been spilled onto winter's white. \n\"I swear, they're multiplying every time I *Blink*,\" He grumbled, gesturing with clear exasperation to the goat-house at the end of the yard. \"I counted three kids just Tuesday morning, and now there are *Six* Of the blasted little things stumbling about the place. Useless until they grow... You'll have to make sure to come by at feeding time.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Akira hoped for sure that Lani would one of the ones to make it out. Not just in the sense of leaving Briar Ridge if she so desired to build a future outside of it, but she knew she would survive and _thrive_ in these trying times, even if her own destiny and survival were uncertain.\n\nShe was smart, brilliant even, it had become a habit of the little girl to ask Aki many questions.\n\n_'Auntie Aki, why are you and Mako so sad?_'\n\n'_Auntie, Kela says you've been very sick, maybe I should have mama make you some soup to make you feel better!_'\n\n_'Why is everyone so angry these days?'_\n\nMany times, Akira wouldn't know what to say, she only knew how to comfort, how to help others. She was a helper, a fixer, she wasn't used to talking about herself. More importantly, her and Kela wanted to shelter Lani from the truth, to keep her safe. \n\nIgnorance was bliss, after all. She only hoped her little princess' innocence would stay intact, that her heart would stay pure despite the horrors, that she could still hold her close, without fearing of braking her.\n\nNot only it was certani for Aki that Lani would survive and thrive, Kela would for sure would, too. The entire Kahawai family had been blessed for not having been a werewolf target so far, their farmhouse was probably one of the few still intact buildings in town. Every time Aki saw that her dear friend and his family would come unscathed after a full moon, she'd always tear up in joy. \n\nIt felt so surreal that when the two sat down on the mattress, it was as if they travelled back in time... Extra goats aside. \n\n\"Really? Six?\" Akira laughed. She laughed! When was it the last time she made a gesture so simple, yet so hard to muster these days in a sea of guilt and regret?\n\n\"I could've sworn I counted eight this morning.\" \n\nThe woman teased once again, grabbing the two cups she had brought for the occasion as she ever so carefully began to pour the tea. \n\n\"I'm feeling well enough to do some light work right now.\" She added,\n\nAs if her life didn't become a job on itself.\n\n\"I can feed your goats to lighten up the load now... In exchange of cheese, you know I don't ask for much.\" \n\nBut as many goats as they owned, nothing could come close to the stars above them. God forbid, Briar Ridge may start implementing a goat army to fight off the werewolf infestation if that were the case! That was, if Kela ever allowed such practices. Akira was aware of how protective he came to be around her.\n\n\"So pretty...\" Her head pointed to the sky again. Her voice quieted back to her usual gentle tone, coupled with the faint raspiness of her vocal cords. \n\n\"No matter how many times I look at them, stars never stop to amaze me...\""
},
{
"author": "Kela Kahawai",
"message": "Aki had gone quiet for a moment, and something in her face told Kela that she was deep in thought, as she so often was. It was rare that he could coax her worries out of her and into the open, but when he could, more often than not it was on nights like tonight, in balmy weather and good company, just the two of them and their tea-party of sorts and the occasional sound of an owl in the trees or a far-off fox in the bushes. \n\nHe spread out the blanket, and by the time they were sitting atop it, she was laughing again. He left the teapot for her to do the honours of pouring, and shook out the second blanket, first draping it over her own shoulders and then his own. He had chosen to sit on her injured side - a new habit he'd developed since that morning she came home hurt. If he'd looked into his own actions long enough he might have concluded that it came from a place of worry, of fear - that she would be in danger again, that there would be trouble despite the lack of the full-moon's glow, and that without him there, she went undefended against anyone or any*Thing* That might come for her. He would not leave her defenceless. He was as responsible for her as he was for Lani, or his parents. And Mako would surely not hesitate to kill him himself if anything were to happen to Akira under his watch. \n\nHow he loved to hear her laugh. How he wished that laughter never had to fall silent, never had its place taken by a voice cracked with unshed tears. He had seen Aki cry too much, this winter, enough to last him a lifetime. If she never wept again until her dying day, it'd be too soon.\n\nKela wrapped his arm around her. \n\n\"I'll be sure to call on you if we find ourselves needing a hand,\" He promised. \"And I'm sure we could pay you in more than cheese - you know you're always welcome to that. Demand is high at the moment, Papa's making it as fast as he can. So really... I suppose even I have to admit that the more goats, the better. More kids means more milk, after all. But - *Eight*, Aka-chan? Really? I'll have to count them again in the morning. Wish me luck.\"\n\nHe rolled his eyes fondly, and followed her gaze upwards. The stars were really coming out now as the sun slipped lower over the horizon, a pinkish sunset giving way to ink-black night. \n\"They're beautiful,\" He sighed, content, and then, in a slightly teasing tone, added, \"As beautiful as you are beneath them.\" \nHe squeezed her good shoulder playfully, and shifted his weight slightly, so she could lean against him if she found herself tired and struck with the desire to. \n\"I'm glad we could do this again. I really worried it might be a tradition we'd leave behind. And it's not something I'm ready to say goodbye to just yet.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Hirano Akira (Ping Ye Qiu Liang )",
"message": "Akira never expected Kela to become her right hand, quite literally speaking. Yet, such role only seemed fitting for a friend like him. After knowing him all these years, after being one of the few people who had been able to see through the layers where she hid. Aki didn't know how much long she had in this life, as someone being on borrowed time trying to end this nightmare. But at the very least, Kela was still there. Not everyone would stay friends with someone after finding out that they were a werewolf. \n\nIf Briar Ridge were to find out, Akira knew she wouldn't be part of it anymore. It was the kind of heartache she'd struggle to bear, one reason to believe she was too far gone, too sinful.\n\n\"Aw shush...! Have you looked yourself in the mirror?\" The woman chuckled with a bashful smile after being called 'beautiful', wiggling as he embraced her before she leaned on him. Someone like her would be difficult to look at to some people, she had become aware of the pitiful looks as she walks around town, or the way some people couldn't meet her gaze. Akira was scarred, she had lost how many times she had to be put back together, sometimes not having any other choice but to treat her wounds at home to avoid any questions. Mitica even once told her the story when he got arrested over his own scars in Chicago. It had seemed as if having survived hell was an offense in this world. \n\nAnd yet, Kela was always there. A man beautiful in the eyes of many. Now if only he could take advantage of his looks to get the courage confess his feelings to dear James...\n\n\"But, of course I'm not ready to say goodbye to this either.\" Akira said, her breathing relaxing as she lift her own tea cup to her lips, sipping on it slowly.\n\nEven as uncertain as her future, she wasn't ready leave just yet. Dying was easy, but saying goodbye was what always stopped Akira.\n\nShe didn't want Kela to sit by the stars alone.\nShe didn't want Mitica to spend another lonely winter in his wagon.\nShe didn'\n\nT want Lani to learn Japanese by herself.\nShe wasn't ready for her father to spend his twilight years without his family.\n\n\"I know that... Things are less than ideal now. And I know... The stupid things you had to see me do.\" Aki continued. \"But I promise you I'll fight to keep our tradition going, every year, every decade.\"\n\nA faint smile curled up on her lips.\n\n\"I'm forever thankful that you were there for me to remind me why I'm still here, Kela-kun.\""
}
] | 574 | 5,176 |
765.333333 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Freddie Lovejoy",
"message": "There had been a time when it wasn't entirely uncommon for Freddie to come home and find that his parents had company. But he had thought that that time had been long since left in the past.\n\nThe elder Lovejoys were a sociable couple, and it had often been said that they could strike up a conversation with statues and come away feeling some kind of accomplished. Freddie knew that the move to Briar Ridge had proven hard for them both, leaving behind the friends they had and the town they knew for pastures which had turned out to be less green than any of them had hoped for. His mama in particular had gone from a social butterfly who knew every snatch of gossip drifting around the place, to a homebody whose fingers never quite cooperated with the cold, who knew barely a soul and had little chance to step out and make connections anew.\n\nStill, he was surprised when, as the sky began to fade from concrete to charcoal late one evening, he dismounted Angel in the yard and saw lamplight flickering from the kitchen window. As he tied her up in the cobbled-together stable out back, he could hear a new voice carried over through the still air, one he couldn't place as someone he knew. He couldn't make out the words, but he could hear enough to pick up on the warmth in his father's tone, and a lightness in his mama's laugh like he hadn't heard in months.\nWhoever it was, without even meeting face to face, they had cemented themselves in Freddie's mind as a friend. Anyone who could make his mama smile after all she'd been through lately was someone he wanted to know, and to trust. \n\nGiving the pony one last pat on the neck and the final bite of the apple he'd been keeping in his pocket, he whispered a goodnight and closed the door behind himself as he headed for the front door. Mr Sinclair's ramp held true beneath his feet, with not so much as a creak to let the inhabitants of the house know he was there, not that they'd have heard him over their own talk and the crackling of the stove. \nMama was usually long since done with cooking by now, Freddie's meal left in the pot to keep warm until the night brought him home, so he couldn't help but wonder what it was that had drawn the hour so late around them. Whoever their visitor was must have been a source of *Fascinating* Conversation - or perhaps, merely a distraction from Elizabeth's nightly routine. \n\nHe pushed open the door, already toeing off his dusty boots and leaving them outside where he couldn't be scolded for leaving footprints on the floorboards. The voices were clearer now he was in here, and he called out a soft greeting as he entered the house fully and made his way to the back.\n\nHis father was sitting at the dining table, his nightly drink set in front of him, and his mama was standing at the stove. What made Freddie come to a stop before his usual rush to wrap his arms around her was the figure standing at her side. Tall (though everyone seemed tall when compared to his dear mama's tiny frame) and dark-haired, wearing an apron tied loose around their waist and leaning over whatever was bubbling over the heat, a wooden spoon in hand. \n\"Evenin'.\" Freddie's voice betrayed his surprise only a little. \"Am I interruptin' the party?\" He cracked a smile, and moved over to poke his nose into the goings-on, never one to want to be left out of something, particularly when that something involved food. \n\nThe stranger had a kind face. They were looking intently into the stew and Elizabeth was telling them something about spices as she sprinkled salt into the meal. \n\nFreddie stuck his hand out for them to shake, remembering for once the politeness that his parents had drilled into him from a young age. \"Nice to meet ya. Freddie - Lovejoy. Though by the looks'a things you already knew that part, findin' yourself all acquainted with the family.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Emery Aiken",
"message": "\"Lovejoy\" Seemed a fitting name for the couple that had become welcome regulars in their shop. The pair always had on smiles and even gave Emery a run for their money when it came to talking, happily chatting to them far past the time it took to package their cuts of meat. They'd become a comforting constant that Emery looked forward to seeing, happy to listen to whatever subject captured the conversation for the day. \n\nThe one thing Elizabeth always told Emery was what she'd be cooking when she came by, everything she would add or *Wanted* To add if it weren't for it being out of season or the extra expense. It never failed to make their mouth water at even the simplest of dishes and finally after a few months they'd told her she could have the meat for free if she taught them how to cook. They'd kept their tone light, just unserious enough they could pass the comment off as a joke but any worries they had were quickly quelled by Elizabeths enthusiasm. Of *Course* She'd love to teach them to cook and when could they stop by?\n\nThat very evening, as soon as Emery closed up the shop, they were headed to the Lovejoys. Their house was everything Emery imagined it to be - welcoming and *Homey*, fires lit in nearly every room to fend off the cold and growing darkness, casting the whole house in a comforting light. They couldn't help but to marvel at the kitchen, openly laughing at Elizabeth's comments of it being understocked. Their own kitchen had barely more than the necessities, unsure of what to do besides *Cut* And *Heat*. Elizabeth was reassuring though, gentle with a kindness that felt so foreign to them as she helped tie an apron around their waist and instructed them what to start on first.\n\nThey'd felt so comfortable and enthralled both by the conversations and learning they hadn't noticed someone walking in the house until he stuck out his hand in greeting. *Freddie*. Emery smiled wide and wiped their free hand on the apron — though they were much more used to the bulky butchers apron and their, albeit mostly clean, hand clumsily wiped onto both it and the skirt they wore. \n\n\"Freddie, sorry, hi,\" They took his offered hand in a shake, \"Nice to meet you finally.\" They briefly turned their attention back to the pot to stir, being sure to scrape the bottom so nothing burned from the hot stove just as they'd been told. \n\n\"Hope you don't mind your mama here tryin' to teach me a thing or two. You also like cookin'?\" Elizabeth had told Emery several times now how much they'd *\"Get on with Freddie.\"*, never elaborating much beyond that. They always failed to notice how the comment would come in moments when they'd come out from behind the counter, skirt swishing behind them, instead thinking it must be from Elizabeth's limited knowledge of their own interests. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Freddie Lovejoy",
"message": "\"Mind? Hell, naw, I don't mind a bit.\" Freddie beamed. It was nice to see his parents, his mama in particular, still being able to make friends of their own in the face of all that had gone on in the last few months. He'd worried about them often, for it was difficult enough being uprooted from all you'd ever known at twenty-one, let alone imagining such a thing in later years, leaving behind a life you'd loved and friends you'd made and kept for decades. To see them settling brought forth a warmth to Freddie's heart that he hadn't realised was missing until he set eyes upon the stranger's smiling face, the reignited light in his mama's expression, and the relaxed curve of his father's shoulders as he sat at the table simply observing all that was unfolding before his eyes. \"I ain't much of a cook, if I'm honest. Most I can do is taste-test an' do the dishes after. I sure love to eat, though, and this smells damn good.\" As a teenager, he'd been effectively barred from Elizabeth's kitchen after near ruining the bottom of one too many pots, and these days he made himself useful around the house in other ways when he wasn't entirely exhausted from the long days down the mines. Speaking of which...\n\"You gotta excuse the state of me. Coal's dirty stuff and ridin' back's not much cleaner.\"\n\n\"There's hot water in the basin, Fred. You really ought to've washed up afore even touching Emery,\" Elizabeth broke in to scold softly, shaking her head at her youngest before turning her attention back to their guest. *Emery*, Freddie thought, and committed the name to memory. \"Sorry about my boy, dear. Anyone'd think he'd been raised by wol- by animals, the filth he comes home covered in.\"\n\n\"Ma!\" Freddie whined, as he went to scrub at his hands with water and soap. \"I ain't that bad, I swear. You make it sound as though I been rollin' in the stuff, and I ain't. Gets hot down there is all, an' the dust in the air sticks right to the sweat. You try loadin' carts all the day and comin' home clean as a whistle.\" He was laughing, though - it was a lighthearted argument they often shared in, and he'd heard her complaints a thousand times before. \"Why ain't you pray for more'a those good evenin' rainstorms an' then I can be washed off by God's own hand? Clean'a the dust *And* My sins in one downpour.\" \n\nA pause came as he focused on getting the dirt out from under his nails and then dunking his whole head in the water to clean his face and hair. He came up all a-dripping as he always did, but his ma was there with a towel and a click of her teeth; of course, it wouldn't do to get so much as a splash of water on the floors. \n\"Alright, alright!\" He laughed, as she patted ineffectively at him with the cloth. \"I got it jus' fine, Ma. You watch your pots while I get rid'a this-\" He gestured to the water \"-an' I go change my clothes and then I *Swear* I'll be right back.\" He shot Emery an apologetic smile. \"It's always like this when I get home, promise. She misses me.\" \n\nHe ducked away from Elizabeth, allowing her to return to the stove as he took the basin of water to dump out in the yard, and he only returned to the kitchen when he was dressed in clean clothes and a little more dried off. He couldn't resist coming back to poke his nose into the cooking, partly through curiosity about dinner and partly in his interest in learning more about the mysterious dinner guest. \n\"So, tell me. How'd my ma come to find you? She ain't said nothin' about no new friends before an' I feel like I'm all outta the loop.\"\n\n||"
}
] | 837 | 2,296 |
815.571429 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "What was supposed to be a simple trip across the Appalachia ended up being one of the worst decisions Bo had ever made – which was really saying something. The big man was not known for making a lot of level-headed decisions, but he thought for sure that when he caught tail-wind news of a fair across the ridge takin' place and in desperate need of goods that he had hit the figurative jackpot. Two years in Briar Ridge had helped sharpen Bo's skill as a hunter & trapper, enough now that his goods were worth selling to folk that had options. The spring prior had been bountiful and the excess of pelts Bo had lying around in his cabin were getting a bit out of hand so as soon as he had everything gathered together, he made the long, long trek to the nearest train track and hitched a ride back to Kentucky. \n\nBo made sure to lock his cabin up tight and inform Mayor Cooper of his departure before leaving town – wouldn't want anyone to worry about his disappearance – and left Briar Ridge just before the start of June in the hopes of returning a wealthier man. Big man like himself must have looked right funny with rolls and rolls of pelts strapped to him like he was some pack mule, but if anyone could handle it, it was certainly 6'6'', built-like-an-ox Bruno \"Bo\" Luppe. \n\nA few buffer months in Kentucky was just what Bo needed after leaving the state a few years back. Already the land wasn't as he remembered, but it was nice to catch up with folk in his hometown and see the Bluegrass Estate – now re-named under new ownership somethin' stupid but Bo wasn't one to judge. Before he knew it, he had somehow burnt away the entire summer.\n\nThe September fair in Kentucky was a delight. City folk couldn't get enough of the soft fox furs, the rustic scratch of short deer hair, or the skins Bo had spent years tanning and processing just right. Summer wasn't quite dead and Autumn was just starting, but Winter was always a worry in the Southern state and that meant that men were thinkin' about having fur-lined gloves when they had to shovel snow and ladies needed the softest fur coat at church to show up that pig-nosed bitch Beverly. By the end of the week, Bo had sold out of his entire stock and had business cards shoved his way that he couldn't do an absolute damn thing with. But it was still a good experience for the man – even if he did miss the quiet of Briar Ridge something awful by the end of it all. \n\nGetting out of Briar Ridge was easy. Now returning? That was hell on earth. The trip to Kentucky could have been a month at most – Bo just liked takin' his sweet time when returning to his roots. Returning should have been just as fast. \n\nBut as Bo tried to return home he met obstacle after obstacle after obstacle. Mostly acts of God, including but not limited to; tornados, flash-freezes, a derailed train, a broken leg, the flu, and yes, even a blizzard. \n\nThe holdup got so bad at one point that Bo had completely run out of the funds earned during the fair, so he had to find someone willing to hire him and go to the Spring fair in hopes of recouping some of his losses. He had been somewhat of a suspicious man since the whole cabin-in-the-woods incident and this felt like divine punishment the likes of which Bo believed, frankly, seemed uncalled for.\n\nHe was a veteran, half-deaf, unmarried, and that had to count for something in terms of boons the Lord was handin' out. And yes – Bo had a notorious mischievous streak to him but surely he didn't deserve to be bullied half as bad as this. \n\nAfter what felt like an eternity, Bo was able to board his final train back to Virginia and make the trek back to Briar Ridge. It had been nearly a year now and as Bo crested that final hill up towards his cabin he hoped with all his might he still had a home to come back to. \n\nSure enough, like the blessin' she was, his cabin still stood. Bo could have fallen to his knees and kissed the wood door then and there, but instead he smashed off the rusty padlock and went inside to see what he was workin' with. His cabin wasn't anything fancy to begin with, modest but impeccably re-built by Bo's scarred and calloused hands all those years back, but there was definitely a layer of dust to her when the door was finally cracked open. Coughing and waving at the dusty air, Bo dropped his pack on the cramped bed he kept telling himself he'd build better and immediately went to crack open the windows. \n\nThankfully nothing was too out of sorts except for a family of raccoons that had destroyed part of the chimney to make themselves at home and had to be scared off. Eternally grateful he had remembered to block up the bottom of said chimney – the cabin would have been in a very different condition in the hands of a family of raccoons – Bo bent to pry open the loose floorboard by his bedside and was relieved to find his stash of dollars untouched.\n\n\"Thank fuckin' Jesus,\" Bo muttered to himself as he kicked it back in place, \"I don't have to be yer favorite, just let the general store have somethin' good for me tonight please.\" Though the last few days hadn't allowed Bo anything more than a puddle for him to use as a mirror, and he wasn't very good with a knife, so he probably needed a good washup before heading into Briar Ridge or he really was going to spook someone. Stripping himself down to his trousers, Bo kicked open his front door and marched out back to the pump to gather himself some water. She creaked and complained at the rough handling, but Bo eventually got the pump working again and Kentucky water was damn good but Briar Ridge water was somethin' else. Indulging by splashing some water in his face and the back of his neck, Bo sat in peace for a moment and just listened to the birdsong. \n\nDamn. It was good to be home. \n\nGathering himself just a half-bucket worth, Bo carried it back into the house to try to shave himself half-decent and cut the hair that had been falling into his eyes the last two weeks of travel. \n\nHe wasn't exactly being quiet as he stomped around the place, but well – it was his. And Bo hadn't had company in a looooong while."
},
{
"author": "Algernon Granville",
"message": "The woods surroundin' the good town of Briar Ridge held all kinds of secrets. Algernon had been fairly diligent in his efforts to memorise them in the months he'd spent treadin' their paths and tramplin' their brush, and he liked to think he had a good idea by now when it came to findin' his way pretty much anywhere. A twisted oak tree here, a tumbledown birdwatcher's shack there, an odd formation of stacked rocks, the rush of creek-water beneath his feet, all of it made up a map of sorts in his head, one that he followed on his hunts and his almost-daily wanders through the trees.\n\nHe'd come across the empty cabin within a month of his arrival, back when the snow was thick on the ground and the frost in the air nipped at your nose and cheeks if you hadn't a scarf or fur to shield 'em from the wind. It wasn't so far off the track that anyone might know of it if they fancied, but the hill was steep and the terrain less than kind. That day he'd found it, he'd thought at first that someone might still live there, but a knock upon the door and a traipse around the back had proven that to be false. Peerin' through the windows had taught him that whoever owned it might perhaps have left in a hurry, judgin' by the coffee cup still sittin' on the kitchen table and the haphazard state of the owner's belongings still strewn across the surfaces and floor.\n\nMaybe they'd planned to come back sooner, he'd thought. And maybe they still would. \nSo he'd come into the habit of keepin' an eye on the place, wantin' to make sure it made it through the winter without a break-in or, Lord forbid, a tree comin' crashin' down through the roof. He stopped by a handful of times a week, whenever he was in the area, always knockin', always checkin' through the glass for signs of life. There never were any, and the months had gone by without incident, and his rap-rap-rappin' upon the heavy door went unanswered, day after day.\n\nThe late May sun was growin' stronger each mornin', it seemed. Algernon liked to get up early when it shone bright, make the most of the day ahead, and, as usual, he passed by the cabin on the way up to check the traps furthest from town. He didn't expect much, but a rabbit or fox wouldn't have gone amiss, and the wildlife this high up were less used to avoidin' humans.\nSomething told him to stop on the way *Up* Rather than down, today, and he was soon makin' his way up the path to the front door.\n\nThe lock was gone.\n\nOr rather, the lock was *Broken*, smashed into pieces and scattered on the ground before the doorway.\nAnd the door was open. Only slightly, not thrown wide, but open all the same, a foot or so's gap between the wood and the frame, and if Algernon stopped, and breathed quiet, and strained his ears just a tad, he could hear boots thuddin' on the floorboards within.\n\nA break-in? Or the homeowner, finally made their way back to town after such a long time gone? \nWho in their right mind would come back to Briar Ridge at a time like this? It didn't cross his mind that news of the wolves mightn't have yet reached the road or the next town over. Enough folks had left recently that it seemed obvious that the stories would've made their way to the ears of anyone thinkin' of makin' a grand return. And only crazy folk would come back to all'a this. \n\nAlgernon Granville raised his gun, and checked to be sure it was loaded. It wouldn't hurt to go take a look, surely. In the absence of a sheriff, he was really the only defence against petty crime that this town had.\nRafael would'a gone in and scouted it out, found out who was in there, stompin' and crashin' without a care in the world. And there was no Rafael here now to say *No, don't*.\n\nSo Algernon toed the door open wide, and called out as he stepped over the threshold. \n\"Hey! Who's there? Come out'n show yourself to me. We ain't need no more trouble in these parts.\"\n\nIt took a few blinks for his eyes to adjust to the change in light, goin' from the bright sunshine to the shadows of indoors, but his gaze soon fixed itself upon a figure - a man, and a large one at that. \nAlgernon had, evidently, interrupted him mid-shave.\nHe lowered his weapon as quick as he'd raised it. \n\n\"Sorry to come botherin' ya, sir,\" He blurted out, stoppin' in his tracks. \"Ain't seen a soul 'round this place in months, an' with the lock bein' broken an' all I thought... Well, I thought somebody might'a taken it upon himself to help himself to the inside. Kin see now that probably ain't the case, an' I'll apologise for the disturbance right off the bat.\" \n\n\nHe paused, hesitant, shuffling on the spot. \n\n\"Algernon. Granville. Been takin' care'a the town lately. You'll forgive me?\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "What was that saying — 'No peace for the wicked'? \n\nBo stopped mid-shave, sure, but only because he knew the shine off a gun more than most. The knife in his hand was a pitiful little pocketknife he had borrowed from someone in town and forgot to give back long enough that it was embarrassin' to admit and decidedly not enough to make even a dent in the wall of man that had just invited himself inside. Jesus Christ. Must be new to town since Bo left because he finally had some competition in the Big and Tall runnin' and that was a face Bo would care to remember. \n\n\"This is just about the worst homecomin' I've ever had,\" Bo grumbled as he turned back to the mirror and finished his shave, \"And that's even countin' the raccoons that were finna bite me just an hour back. After I was so nice and scared 'em off instead of makin' me a new coat, too.\" Tapping the last of the water off the pocketknife, Bo switched it closed and into his pocket in one clean motion before turning to give the stranger a stronger look-over. \n\nWhat did he say — that he was takin' care of the town lately? What the hell happened to Sheriff Guerrero? And Bo didn't know any man of the law that asked for forgiveness, at that. Not until Bo rose to full height and flashed them his pretty smile, anyway. The stranger still had his gun clutched tight and though it was lowered, Bo figured he wouldn't give him any reason to get an itchy trigger finger. \n\nThen suddenly the stranger was no longer a stranger; were they makin' nice now? \"Algernon.\" Sounded familiar, but Bo couldn't say where. They looked similar in age, so Bo skipped the formalities. He didn't seem like the type to worry over salutations. \"M'name's Bo. I only return to town this mornin' so you'll excuse the mess.\" With this, Bo flapped his hands to both himself and his cabin, presumably to indicate that he didn't usually look like such a slop (this was a lie; Bo had missed about half his scruff in this attempt at shaving)."
},
{
"author": "Algernon Granville",
"message": "Well, that didn't feel very fair. \nMuch worse things could've happened to the cabin if Algernon hadn't been watchin' it so closely. Who was to say he wasn't the only thing keepin' any stray troublemakers from smashin' in the windows or climbin' up on the roof? Sure, he'd marched in with his gun, but not *Intendin'* To shoot whoever was inside. He was just, y'know, makin' sure that if he had to, he could. And Algernon took his gun everywhere. Somethin' would have to be *Seriously* Wrong for him to show up someplace without it. \n\nIt was well and truly lowered now - this man was no threat. Just another hunter, by the looks of him and his place. Hopefully he wouldn't take too unkindly to Algernon showin' up and sharin' his turf. But Briar Ridge definitely had enough wildlife for two, and enough forest and hillside to ensure they wouldn't go steppin' on each other's toes, and if it *Really* Came down to it Algernon could pack his things and move on and...\n\n\"Bo. Pleased ta meet ya.\" \n\nHe couldn't help but wonder, foolish as it might'a been, just for a moment. \nThere was just an air about the man stood before him that felt awful familiar, From the build of his shoulders, not dissimilar to Algernon's own, to the rough lilt of his voice and, as Algernon took a step closer to him, a sort of glimmer in his eyes. \nAnd then, Algernon's heart skipped two or three beats in his chest all at once. \n\nThe man before him was missing an ear. \n\n*\"Bruno Luppe. Kentucky.\" \"Algernon Granville. Virginia.\"*\n\n*Twelve years prior, Algernon Granville had rolled off a boat onto French shores, had a gun thrust into his hands and a helmet jammed upon his head, and found himself in a twelve-foot trench, mud up to his bootlaces, shells whistlin' up above almost every hour of the day. With him had been boys from all over the South and beyond, strangers from all walks of life thrown together by the necessities of war. Algernon, as the oldest in his regiment, had taken each and every one of their names and faces, committed them to memory, and though he'd lost almost all of them in the bitter two years that followed, he'd never forgotten one.*\n*Loved 'em like brothers, and more. Some more than most. There were no shortages of lonely, desperate folks out there on the front line.*\n*Bo Luppe had been one of the first to go. Caught the wrong end of a shrapnel piece to the side of the head, and Algernon had been there as he fell, as his face blossomed with crimson blood and voices shouted for help from all sides.*\n*Bo Luppe had also been the first man Algernon had held like a lover, just the two of them with a flask and shakin' hands, mere weeks after gettin' to know one another's names.*\n*Losin' him had been like losin' his own damned limb.*\n\n\"I'm gonna sound crazy,\" Said the Algernon of 1929, back from his memories and standing in the middle of a stranger's cabin. His gun was back to being strapped to his chest, safety clicked on, all thoughts of a fight forgotten. \n\"Normandy. The 116th. Forgive me, I ain't know the date back then, let alone if I could remember it now. Stop me if I got you mistaken for somebody else, but... We'd split a rum ration in cups'a coffee on the night watch. Mud so thick underfoot you'd twist an ankle in it easy if you ain't watch your step right. Dark enough you cain't see a man's face 'less he's on'y a foot from ya.\"\nA deep breath, taken in through the nose and exhaled slow.\n\n\"Friend'a mine had a run-in with a shell that ain't end well. I thought y- *He* Was dead 'til... Well, 'til jus' now, Bo. Tell me I ain't still gotta mourn him.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "Algernon may as well have whipped his gun around and shot Bo straight in the chest for how fast everything shattered. No – shattered wasn't the right word because this was something right finally coming together. Maybe Bo had been shattered all those years back, and the doctors cobbled him back together like the world's ugliest mosaic because that was the best they could do, and just now Algernon had touched the mis-matched, jagged colored glass with his rough hands and slotted in that final missing piece. \n\nThey had both looked different back then. Younger, sure, but no one was offered a lick of personality with those awful buzzcuts and clean faces. Bo remembered meeting Algernon for the first time and thinking his eyes were too gentle for the hell they were about to step into. How this man stayed that kind in the weeks, months, lifetimes in the trenches was beyond Bo's comprehension. He liked to think he remained the same hot-blooded stallion he had been before gettin' drafted, but Bo knew a horse was never the same after the hot press of an iron brand. \n\nWhat Algernon had ever seen in some young Kentucky-backwater hick, Bo would never guess. All the men in the regiment had been close and some had been funnier, or kinder, or a better shot than Bo. Maybe it was because Bo had experience makin' men melt in his hands. Word traveled fast in those ditches about who could be kind in other ways and Bo wasn't a stranger to it. That Algernon picked Bo as his first was as sweet as the last shot of bourbon from the bottle. Their first kiss, shared just weeks after learning each other's names, had been so shaky Bo laughed after. He still remembered the way Algernon's breath cut sharp when Bo grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in for another. \n\nNever in a hundred years did Bo think he would ever forget the shine of those kind eyes.\n\nBo lurched from his seat and had his hands on Algernon in a single breath. The gun made it hard to hug the great man proper but Bo didn't let it deter him from tryin. The hair from his beard was scratchy but good – it kept Bo grounded as he squeezed Algernon tight. Getting up so fast had unbalanced them both, and Bo heard more than felt the heavy sound of Algernon's back hitting the cabin door as they caught one another in their embrace. \n\nThe last time he had seen Algernon, Bo was sure he was going to die; that his last sight would be Algernon's haunted expression framed by a clear blue sky. \n\n*This is nice*, Bo had thought then. \n\n*This is better*, Bo thought now. \n\nRealizing that Bo hadn't said a word since Algernon identified him, the man hurried to pull back just enough to see his lost love's face. \"*Amo*,\" Bo choked out around his crooked smile, \"It's *Me*.\""
},
{
"author": "Algernon Granville",
"message": "The last time Algernon Granville had held Bo Luppe in his arms, it had been a scene drenched in pain and in bloodshed. With their collapsed bodies sinking into the dirt as though it was creepin' up of its own accord to swallow the two of them, Algernon had pressed a shakin' palm to Bo's chest and said *Stay with me* And *You're alright* And *Please* And *Don't go*. \nHe had been certain, in that moment, that Bo would die, and that certainty had only been cemented when the medics came to take him away, and he'd not heard a word in regards to the man's well-bein' ever since. Anyone would've assumed what Algernon had - that the lack of news could only mean bad news, and that he had succumbed to his injuries in some trench or tent or far-off hospital bed. And Algernon had grieved like a widow grieved the loss of a lover, until the ships took the boys home and near enough every day after that. Had wondered countless times, *Could I have saved him*. Could he have cried out a louder warner, moved faster to stem the blood as it spilled into the earth? If he had only held him tighter, could things have ended differently?\n\nBo's body collided with his own with such great force that it stopped all thinkin' he might have been doin' in that moment. He stumbled back, and as his arms came up to wrap around his sturdy frame, his back hit the door, preventin' him from fallin' any further, leavin' him free to exhale a shakin' breath into bare skin that still smelled like it used to, better than any soap or cologne ever could. Up against his own poundin' heart was a pulse all too familiar, hot and strong and alive, *Alive*, ***Alive***.\n\nAgainst all odds, Bo had lived. \nNot only that, but he had lived long enough for Algernon to find him again. In a place like this, in a time when he'd just gotten to thinkin' that there was no good left in this world to find.\n\n*Him. Here. Now.*\n\nBo pulled back, and he was different - older, scarred, missin' that damned ear - but he was also exactly the same - big, warm, grinnin' like the cat that had gotten into the cream - and Algernon, for a moment, could only stare. \n*Amo.*\nIf he'd been at all unsure, if he'd questioned even for half a heartbeat that the man before him might be messin' with him... That name was enough to solidify the truth as it hung in the air between them. There'd only ever been one that called Algernon that, and *Oh* How he'd called it, over and over again, everywhere, from a playful yell across the patch of dead grass that the boys had kicked a ball around on, to the shadowy corners where they'd met in the dead of night and Bo had breathed *\"Amo\"* Into the crook of Algernon's neck like it was some kind of a charm. \n\n\"Hell on earth. You- you're... You're *Alive*.\" Algernon's voice was just as choked as Bo's was. \"You're... You... Shit. All this time I- I ain't know a thing what happened 'cept you weren't there no more. An' I... I missed ya.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Bo Luppe",
"message": "Bo could only nod at first, so overwhelmed that it made his tongue feel heavy and useless. Algernon. Algernon was *Here*. What in the hell were the chances of somethin' like that? No, if anyone knew it best it was Bo — don't look a gift horse in the mouth. And stop starin' at him like a brain-dead idiot while we're at it.\n\n\"They wouldn't give me a lick of information about the regiment; wouldn't let me pass on a single word to any of the boys.\" Bo near growled. That *Indifference* To Bo's pleas still riled him up to this day, \"So I hoped to God they at least told you I shipped out alive. Fuckin' rat bastards —\" But no, this wasn't the time to be mad about old wounds. Algernon was here. \"Here, come in.\" Bo stepped back enough to let Algernon breathe, but was immediately grabbing his hands and running his thumbs over the bump of Alg's knuckles as he pulled the great man further inside. \n\nOnce he had Algernon seated in one of the available chairs surrounding the fireplace, Bo scrambled back to the vanity to grab the shirt waiting for him and pulled it on over his head in a frantic speed. It popped on easily, clearly made for Bo's impressive measurements, but when Bo turned back to Alg he was grinning with giddy excitement as he did up each button until he looked a little more respectable. \"I can't believe it's you.\" Bo seemed to say half to himself as he finished re-dressing, the final icing on his cake being his suspenders snapped into place. \n\n\"I — let me get you somethin'. Anythin'. I've got some bourbon I've been saving for a rainy day, or I could make us coffee.\" It was still early morn', but that wouldn't stop Bo from sharing the good stuff with a long-lost friend. The frantic energy wasn't leaving Bo, it seemed, though the man kept glancing at Algernon as he moved about the cabin like he was a ghost that the forest had conjured and if he looked away too long Alg would fade away."
}
] | 737 | 5,709 |
259.611111 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Leroy Roswell",
"message": "Even though he found himself busy most days with his cheesemaking, Leroy still knew what had been going on. Everything that had been going on in the town had gotten worse and worse over time. Between the wolves, between the new deaths, and between constant fear they wouldn't find a cure.. \n\nWell, he decided to go see his sister. Seeing as she was involved with a lot of the more.. Medical sides of Briar Ridge.. He figured there wa some of the recent events that might be affecting her. \n\nHe showed up at her apartment, to which she didn't answer upon the first knock so Leroy instead picked the lock and made his way in.\n\nHe made his way to her bedroom, and stood over her before grabbing her and shaking her. \"AHHHH WAKE UP!\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She had gotten off a long... Long shift at the hospital. Even when things with the moon weren't immediately happening, there was always something to manage, wasn't there? People were still recovering from attacks, those poor orphaned babies were still very much in need of care after their mother's untimely demise, and then there was all the normal aches and pains of Briar Ridge. Doctor Ashworth couldn't do it all, could he? No, of course not! So, she stayed later than usual, and when her days off rolled around, she found herself sleeping in. \n\nShe hadn't had a single moment to try and even catch up with her family, much less Leroy of them all. He was the eldest, he was always busy making cheese and living his own life. She was grateful that it was one less person she needed to worry about, even if she still tended to worry. Of course, she always wanted to see him... But not in the early morning, when she was still sleeping. \n\nShe jolted awake, her fist flying out and striking her brother in the nose before she realized what was going on. \"Oh!\" Lorelai gasped, swinging her legs off the bed to take a stand in her nightgown. \"Leroy, what in the hell are you doin' in my room? How did you even get in here?\""
},
{
"author": "Leroy Roswell",
"message": "He frowned a bit at her reaction, as she stood up and moved away. He crossed his arms over his chest, and took in a deep breath. \n\n\"Well damn, Lorelai..\" He said as he looked at her and then to the dresser he leaned against, messing with a trinket on top of it. \"I was checkin' on my sister.. Guess I should go fuck myself for bein' worried about you..\" He said glancing over at her. \n\n\"I can't even be worried about my own damn lil' sister..\" He said as he ran a hand through his hair. \"Just you know.. Ya got a lot goin' on so..\" \n\nHe glanced at her and a grin spread over his face, \"I just picked the lock.. Ain't even that big a deal..\" He said rolling his eyes. \"How ya doin'?\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She picked up her pillow and promptly whacked her brother's arm with it, a scowl across her face as she did it. \"Hell, you damn scared me to death, I swear...\" She swore and turned away from him, trying to shoo him outta the room a moment. \"Can you gimme a moment of privacy to make myself decent? At least... Turn around.\" Wasn't like the Roswells had ever had much privacy in their damn life, anyhow. She'd been tossed in enough baths with her brothers and sisters as a youngin' to not have all that much shame 'bout it. \n\nOnce her brother had properly turned, she set about finding a dress to pull over her head as she replied. \"Tired. Just... You know. It's always hard.\" She mumbled. \"After the moons.\" She turned over her shoulder, grabbing his as she finished dressing. \"What 'bout you, Leroy?\" She looked him over. \"You doin' alright?\""
},
{
"author": "Leroy Roswell",
"message": "He rolled his eyes, \"You're incredibly dramatic you know..\" He said with a big deep sigh. \"But whatever you say..\" He said as he turned around with his arms crossed. \n\n\"I didn't mean to scare you, you know? Just not used to people sleeping this long. You know in France they barely sleep at all..\" Whether that was true or something he was just.. Making up about France again, well.. Who knew? \n\nHe nodded, \"I bet.. You got too much going on.\" He said with a shrug. \"I ain't think it's really good for you..\" He said with a tsk noise. \n\n\"I been mindin' my own, makin' cheese.. I've been talkin' to this one real pretty lady.. But don't tell no one because I'm also talkin' to her sister.\" He said with a snicker. \n\n\"You focused on anything but those damn wolves?\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "\"I ain't dramatic,\" She grumbled, pushing him out her bedroom door so they could sit properly on the couch. Her hair was still a bit of a mess, even after she had managed to pin it up into something slightly more presentable.\n\nAh, Leroy really knew how to push her buttons, didn't he? \"I barely got to sleep in,\" She grumbled to herself, shaking her head as she crossed one leg over the other as they sat down. \"Not much I can do about the workload, Leroy, I don't ask for people to get attacked every moon,\" She pointed out, shaking her head in exasperation. \"While yer out there makin' cheese and havin' a good time, the rest of us are tryin' to make sure that Briar Ridge isn't dyin.\"\n\nShe let out a long breath. \"Don't toy with them girls' hearts, Leroy, that's just cruel.\" Lorelai let out an exasperated breath. \"Not like I can focus on a lot more than wolves these days. But...\" She trailed off and her cheeks colored pink a moment, as she couldn't help but recall sitting on that bench with Miss Carina Templeton. \n\n\"You met the new doctor yet? Doctor Nathaniel Ashworth?\" She cleared her throat. \"He's a real nice fella, Leroy.\""
},
{
"author": "Leroy Roswell",
"message": "He shrugged his shoulders as he was pushed out of the room, \"Now, now.. That ain't true. You are a tad bit dramatic..\" He said, though his words really had no founding in this situation since he had in fact broken into the house to bother her while she slept out of unfounded worry. \n\nHe shook his head as he sat down and dug around in his pockets before he pulled out a box of cigarettes and took one out, putting it between his lips and lighting it without so much as a thought of whether the gesture would be appreciated. \"That ain't a fair assessment, it really ain't.. Cheesemakin' is more important than you could even know..\" He said taking in a deep breath. \"You know.. It's food.. It's sustience.. We all need something ta' live on..\" He said his voice close to a grumble. \n\nHe took a drag off the cigarette and blew it away from her, with a shrug. \"I ain't.. I just ain't picked which one I like more yet..\" He said shaking his head, studying his sisters face for a moment. \n\n\"Mmm.. No I ain't.. You like him or something? He a reallllll nice fella?\" He grinned and shook his head. \"Bet he is.. He a pretty boy? I know you like yer boys reallll pretty.. Don't ya?\" He chuckled. \"I'll keep an eye out for him.. Make sure yer not gettin' yourself inta any trouble..\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She was grateful that he was blowing the smoke away, but she would've preferred he didn't smoke in here at all. The smoke always clung to her throw pillows like a blanket of ash. She didn't quite like the smell, but she could deal with it. Like with most things with her family, she tended to just let things go. \n\nHer eyebrows shot upwards and her cheeks flushed a bright, crimson red. \"No, I ain't like Doctor Ashworth like that, he is my boss,\" Lorelai reminded her brother with an indignant cry. \"He's a very lovely man, and I'm sure he will be a very good husband to someone, but that will not be me.\" She assured him, shaking her head. \"I don't think I could ever be with somebody I work with.\" Not again, at least. \n\nShe bit down on her lip and glanced to her brother and away again. \"Besides, he ain't my type anyhow.\" She said after a moment. She felt her chest get all tight. Maybe she should just say somethin'. Maybe he would be open-minded about it! But then again, what would that really do? Wasn't like there were any ladies lookin' to hold hands or anything with her... What was the point?"
},
{
"author": "Leroy Roswell",
"message": "He shook his head, \"Well then I ain't really understand why yer tellin' me how nice he is. Pitchin' him for me?\" He asked with a snicker, taking another inhale in. \"Doctors ain't my type..\" He joked as if that were the only problem with it. \"I ain't wanna date nobody who might be smarter than me..\" He said with a howl of laughter. He really cracked himself up. \n\n\"Well.. I hope to God you find someone soon.. You are not gettin' any younger and it's a lot harder for a woman who can;t have no babies to get hitched Lorelai..\" He said taking in a deep breath. \"I don't see what working with him has to do with it.. Plenty of women marry their bosses but.. You know whatever..\" He said waving his hand. \n\nHe looked over to her, and turned, batting his eyelashes at her. \"Oh is that so?\" He took another drag and blew it away before looking over to her. \"And what exactly is that then?\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She rolled her eyes a little. \"Then I guess you'll never date, Leroy, I think everybody in town is smarter than you,\" She snickered and swatted at him playfully before she slumped down on the couch a little more. \"Who says I want babies?\" She asked him curiously. \"I don't think I even want. I mean, 'specially not now...\" She bit her lip. \"Maybe I'm fine just bein' married and livin' in a nice little house.\" \n\nHer hands twisted in her skirt more and she felt her heart pick up the pace. She felt like she might get sick. She could feel Leroy staring at her out of the corner of her eye, and she whipped her head around to look at him. \n\n\"I'm—\" She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she looked to her lap again. She took a few quick breaths before she just broke down and said it. \n\n\"I don't like men, Leroy,\" She said, quickly. \"I like ladies.\" She clapped her hand over her mouth in terror. Had she really said it out loud? Had she actually spoken it into existence? \n\nHer eyes watered and she stood up, sniffling. \"I don't know what I'm talkin' bout, I think I might a lost my mind,\" She said, breath coming quicker as she wiped her eyes."
},
{
"author": "Leroy Roswell",
"message": "He rolled his eyes, \"Yeah yeah.. I'm not judgin' you.. Who the hell wants babies these days anyway? Babies are terrible and so is this town.. Ain't exactly the best place to raise them..\" He said with a snicker as he put out his cigarette on the side of his shoe, before tossing it onto he table. \n\nAs his sister struggled to get his words out, he arched a brow and leaned closer. Sure seemed like she had something real important to said. \n\nWhen she did speak, he blinked in surprise and stared for a moment before he saw her stand up, with tears in her eyes and he quickly shook his head. \"Lorelai..\" He said as he took in a deep breath. \n\nHe grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her towards him, pulling her into a hug. \"Calm down.. It's okay.. You meant it.. You know what you said.. That is a fine thing ta' say.. Don't you worry about it..\" He said kissing the top of her head. \"Don't you even worry about it.\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "Her shoulders sagged and she gasped out a shaky breath, arms coming around her big brother to hold on real tight. Oftentimes, she started feeling like *She* Was the oldest— like she had to take care of everybody else around her. That even Leroy needed her to come around and pick up his things off the floor and make sure he didn't have stains in his shirts. Maybe it was because she was the eldest daughter; it was expected, wasn't it? Make sure her brothers stayed out of trouble, make sure the little ones didn't have food on their face. \n\nBut for once, Leroy felt like a real big brother. She pressed her face into his chest and cried; big, fat tears rolled down her face and soaked into his shirt. \"You smell like cheese,\" She whispered quietly, hiccuping a little. She pulled back to look up at her big brother and wipe her eyes clear of tears. \n\n\"Don't tell Ma and Pa, I don't know how they'll feel bout all this,\" She begged softly, sniffling. \"I just don't know, Leroy, I'm scared. What if— yknow, what if I'll never find nobody who loves me?\" \n\nShe wiped her eyes and hiccuped again, trying to take deep breaths to focus. \"I had this— I had a lady, once. When I was in France,\" She whispered. \"But it didn't end well. And how am I supposed to ever know again?\" She asked. \"I don't know what to do, Leroy. I feel like I'm cursed of sumn.\""
},
{
"author": "Leroy Roswell",
"message": "Leroy shook his head, \"Yeah Lorelai.. I make cheese.. I'm gonna smell like cheese.\" He said, as his hand ran up and down her back slowly, giving her another squeeze before she had pulled back a bit. \n\nAs she continued, he shook his head, \"I ain't gonna tell no one.. Not ma and pa, neither..\" He said as he reached up to wipe at her tears with his sleeve. \"I promise.. You ain't gotta worry about that.\" He said as he pushed some hair away from her face. \n\nAs she continued, he let her speak everything out. Her fears, her past, all of it, but he scoffed. \"Oh come on.. That ain't truth.. You ain't cursed and you sure as hell are gonna find someone who loves you..\" He said as he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her lightly. \n\n\"Hell.. There are plenty of fruits hangin' round.. You just gotta.. Keep yer eye out.. I have.. On occasion, had a taste.\" He said putting his hands up in defense. \n\n\"'Sides.. You ain't find anyone and I'll take yer ass right back to France.. They all go both ways there, you gotta know that..\" He said with a grin. \"I ain't gonna let my little sister live on her own. Yer too kind, and pretty and special for all that.\" He said giving her hair a little scuffle."
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "\"You ain't know that for sure.\" She said real soft like. She wasn't so sure that Leroy quite knew what he was talkin' bout with this one. Sure, he might'a said he'd tried a few things on himself, but he could always be with a lady himself. He could always have that option and always be true to himself, but Lorelai... She ain't got that option. Who could she seek out without the fear of exposure? How could she possibly know? \n\n\"I don't think I even got time for romance,\" She admitted softly. \"I think I oughta... Give up on the whole thing. Maybe I'll end up marryin' some man who ain't so bad, just... Wishin'.\" She had resigned herself, and wiped her eyes on her sleeves. She was so tired. She wasn't sure she had the fight in her anymore. \n\nShe thought of Carina Templeton. Proper, beautiful, *Complicated* Carina. A woman like her; she could never be someone like her, right? And yet here she sat, wondering how her hand would feel in hers, and wondered if the sugar from her cookies still remained on her lips. She wondered if she would taste sweet if they kissed. \n\n\"Not much you can do when yer sister is a hopeless cause,\" She said, swatting at her elder brother's hair ruffling."
},
{
"author": "Leroy Roswell",
"message": "He shook his head, and took in a deep breath, \"Lorelai.. I ain't never been wrong in my damn life..\" He said as he gave a huff. \"I am constantly right.. So.. You should trust me, you should know that by now.\" \n\nHe listened as she continued and he crossed his arms as she spoke. He didn't believe a word of that. That she didn't have time for romance. He shook his head and let out a sigh. \"Now now.. That just ain't gonna happen.. There is always room for romance.. You gotta make time for it.. Ain't much in this world more important than connection. I'll tell ya one thing..\" He said arching a brow. \n\n\"You marry some man I'll kill em'..\" He said with a laugh, which was obviously untrue but. Even still he half meant it. \"I'll kill every man you see dead till you get a girlfriend..\" He said with a snicker. \n\nAs she spoke, he shook his head again. \"You ain't no hopeless cause.. Yer sweet and kind and real funny or whatever.. Yer annoyin' as hell but yer still great.. Got yer strengths and all..\" He said grabbed her, swaying her back and forth as he spoke. \n\n\"You gotta get yer head in the game an' start believin' in yerself.. You got anyone you get yer eye on?\" He asked arching a brow."
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "\"You been wrong a lotta times, Leroy,\" She argued with him. \"Like when you thought that molasses would go good in cheese.\" She wrinkled her nose at the memory. \"Or all them other failed experiments.\" Her brother would really try to throw just about anything in cheese to see if it would taste good, in pursuit of what she could only assume was the next big cheese pairing. \n\nBut it seemed that her turn of conversation to cheese was not going to deter him, and she crossed her own arms in defiance. Her brother didn't know what it was like to be in her shoes; what it was like to want something so badly with little idea of how to get it. Say she *Was* Interested; who was to say that the woman would be interested right back? \n\nShe was enveloped in her brother's hug, and she was calmed, even if just a little. There was a comfort in family, and Leroy *Was* The eldest, after all. \"Well...\" She sighed, her own arms coming around her brother and squeezing. \"There is... One.\" She closed her eyes a moment. \"But that ain't... It ain't anything. She ain't ever gonna look at somebody like me. Not a plain jane like me,\" She shook her head. \"She's all... High society, y'know?\""
},
{
"author": "Leroy Roswell",
"message": "He shook his head, \"That don't count.. I'm talkin' about the important stuff..\" He said with a scoff, \"Plus that first one.. It almost tasted good.. There was just a little somethin' missin'..\" He said and ran a hand through his hair. \n\nHe felt for his sister, he knew that must be hard. Not bein' able to be your real self. It was really hard, he only had a small taste of it. He stil liked women, preferred them even. So who was he to say it was all going to be okay? \n\nWell, he was his brother and that was his job. \n\nAs she spoke about this women, he arched a brow. He shook his head, \"No no no.. That's enough..\" He said as he took in a deep breath. \"I ain't ever wanna hear you talk like that again..\" He said looking her over, \"You really think you're plain?\" He rolled his eyes. \"You are beautiful and she would be lucky to have you.. 'sides.. This is Briar Ridge, it's small.. Ain't gonna deter no one none if you ain't some fancy pants.\" He said giving her side a poke. \n\n\"Plus.. You're a war hero.\" He said with a grin."
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She gave her brother a look. \"You gotta say that, yer my big brother,\" She argued. She didn't believe him, not even for a second! Big brothers had to say things like that, didn't they? They had to reassure their little sisters, whether they were beautiful or the most plain girl in the world. \"She ain't from here, 'riginally. She was from a rich family. Real... Pretty. Real elegant. Poised.\" \n\nShe glanced at Leroy and away. \"Carina Templeton,\" She mumbled under her breath so softly. \"I just don't think she's rightly interested like that,\" She admitted. \"Which is fine, she don't gotta! I know I ain't a lot to look at and I'm always workin' my butt off at the hospital. What kinda lady wants another lady to smell like blood 'n bandages all the time?\" Lorelai grimaced to herself. \n\n\"A war hero!\" She threw her hands up. \"I was a nurse, hardly a war hero, Leroy,\" She argued. \"She did seem real surprised when I mentioned it to her. Almost in tears, she was.\" It was so sweet, too, it nearly melted her heart into a soup."
}
] | 275.5 | 4,673 |
339.055556 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Dominic Sevilla",
"message": "The ranchin' folk weren't ranchin' with snow still on the ground. The rooves in town had already been fixed up months ago in preparation for winter. Folks could chop their own lumber just fine. Shiners didn't need no helpin' hands right now. Besides, he couldn't leave town anyway. Not for a while. Not with what he'd done. He was stuck right here in this sorry holler, with all its nothin' goin' on, and far too much idle energy on his hands. \n\nHe'd strung together just enough coin selling sketches of folks down in the town center for a pittance that he'd bought himself a busted old guitar and the strings to restring it. That had occupied him a while, though people were far less apt to give him coin for strummin' on the street than for sketching. Thing about being surrounded by poor folks was it was real hard to turn a coin from 'em unless they were really tickled. Most always did like the romantic notion of seeing their likeness committed to paper. \n\nWith boredom setting in by his fourth week there, it became more tempting to drink the days away. But he'd seen how ugly that path could become. Also, it was expensive for someone with next to nothin'. Dominic was a young man that did not do well without a plethora of purposes. He'd had to make due. Some days he spent tidying up the little apartment while his cousin was at work. She'd been generous enough to lend him the use of an empty room with no questions asked. The least he could do was push around a broom now and again. \n\nIn between some of that tidying, he'd gotten hungry. Ever prone to distraction, an endeavor to make toast had made charcoal and a lot of smoke. The air was chilly, but the apartment needed airing out one way or the other. Besides, he liked a bit of fresh air. Perched in the sill of the open window, he set to strummin' on that old guitar, eyes trailing the comings and goings of the folks in the road. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She hadn't thought much of her little life here; the days always seemed so packed with things to do. Maybe it was the fact that she'd spent most of her childhood wrangling kids that weren't hers, and now she was an adult with a clinic to help run. \n\nDominic's appearance in her life had been an interesting one. Some might've had something to say about a young bachelor staying with her, but Lorelai didn't take much of that into thought. Besides her obvious (to her) tendencies for the fairer sex, she just didn't think much on the expectations one had when it came to housing a young man of marrying age. That aside, they got on fine thus far. \n\nShe hadn't been a drinker until lately; she'd taken up drinking occasionally, to wind down from the stress of the days that toiled on. Either people were sick from the frost or they were getting torn apart by werewolves, and the clinic was packed up full. \n\nAs she walked through the snow in her coat, she looked up at the open window he perched in and huffed. \"Dominic!\" She called up, squinting. \"Yer gonna fall out that window if yer not careful!\" She warned him, hands on her hips down below."
},
{
"author": "Lily Ann Brooks",
"message": "Lily had been walking home across the dirt paths of Briar Ridge, snow still lined some of its roofs and flora. They were restless, which meant they were on the look for one of a few things; a drink, someone interesting, someone easy to pickpocket (something she had grown much, _much_ more careful with, one might even suspect she had given it up completely) or something stupid to do. This town was a far cry from the hustle and bustle they were used to, she had found herself missing the rain-slicked streets of New York. They missed its corners and alleys, how they hid adventure behind every corner. Adventure, as well as many much more negative and downright abhorrent aspects, which is why Lily would not be going back, ever.\n\nThe sound of a woman's voice calling out alerted her that something interesting may be occurring on the otherwise dead streets of Briar Ridge. There was a man sitting in a window, casually strumming a guitar. It was something she'd seen before, but not here. Street musicians were common in NYC, where people had coin enough to spare for those musically inclined folks to make some kind of living. Briar Ridge did not have the same luxury, which didn't bode well for her, should she ever want to sing for tips at the Speakeasy.\n\nLily watched from a few steps away, wondering who these people were. They knew each other, that much was clear, but other than that, their relationship was unclear. She didn't seem to be too worried about the man plummeting from the window. They leaned against the wall of a nearby building, eager to see how the scene before them would unfold.\n\n\"Is this normal behavior for him or should I be looking for a doctor?\" She asked Lorelai, not moving from her leaning position a few steps away."
},
{
"author": "Dominic Sevilla",
"message": "Making his way through plenty of watering holes in Tennessee and Louisiana the past months had found Dominic a new love. This travelin' boy had developed a great fixation for the blues. Of course he didn't know many of them well enough to play them through, but he'd set to experimenting with what he could recall. Even in the few minutes he'd been sitting on that sill, his left-hand was bent up in a focused progression of chords. A sassy, plonky series of sounds went way down into the lower strings.\n\nHis cousin's voice brought him back around to the here and now. He tossed a smile down at her. If she wasn't the funniest damn thing, standing there hands on hips, liable to come up and pull him around by the ear. \n\n\"My plan all along, Lou.\". He'd only made himself at home in her generously-shared apartment for all of two days before his tongue had apparently gotten too lazy with the extra syllables saying *Lorelai* Would require. In the three weeks following, she was Lou, whether she wanted to be or not. \n\n\"You know I love it when you kiss it all better.\" Not a care in the world seemed to go into him singing that down to her in the street. If folks had something to say about these two living together, he wasn't helping a whit. \n\nSwinging around, he stepped back down into the apartment. That was only so he could lean out, elbows propped on the sill, doing his best to get a look at whoever was chatting to Lorelai from the strange vantage point. His cousin was sweet-hearted and well-liked. Moreover, she'd grown up here. It was no surprise she might know most folks that lived around them. So it was left just to him to be nosy on their conversation.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "Her attention was drawn by the person to her side, not having even heard her approach in the snow. \"Oh, he's always like this,\" She admitted. \"My cousin Dominic here thinks he's a songbird! Somebody done forgot to tell him he don't got wings and that if he falls, he gon' go and break his neck!\" She spoke loud enough for him to hear, casting him a look as she crossed her arms. \n\n\"Don't you give me lip,\" She told him, shaking her head with a smile on her face. She didn't hate the nickname at all; her mother used to call her *Lorie* Sometimes, which she hadn't liked very much. *Lou* Was fun. \n\n\"Lorelai Roswell,\" She introduced herself. \"Ain't you cold out here?\" Her fingertips felt like ice. \"If yer cold out round here, Dominic could always use another drinking buddy, I'm sure,\" She nodded up towards her apartment door. \"Care to join?\""
},
{
"author": "Lily Ann Brooks",
"message": "Musicians had always impressed Lily. The only instrument they could play was their voice, she'd never had much talent with actual instruments. Nor had she tried much, but she sure did miss the collaboration between musician and singer. Creating music with others was a wonderful experience, people coming together to create a blend of different parts that flowed into one whole; it was something truly special. \n\nLily shook her head and smiled at the playful banter exchanged between the two strangers. _Kissing it better._ Were these two a couple? It made sense, they did seem to live together. Lorelai introduced the man, Dominic, as her cousin. Definitely not lovers, then. \n\n\"A pleasure to meet you Lorelai. I'm Lily Brooks.\" It had been a while since she'd introduced herself with a surname attached. Brooks had felt like a fitting name and now that she'd said it out loud, it was hers to keep. \"You know what, it _is_ cold out. Why not? After you.\" She gestured at Lorelai to lead the way. Lily never said no to a drink. Especially with people who seemed like she'd get along well with."
},
{
"author": "Dominic Sevilla",
"message": "\"Drinkin' buddies always welcome,\" He agreed with what he could hear of the conversation. He couldn't see much of who Lorelai was talking to, besides the top of of some long dark hair. The introduction was too quiet for him to make out, and he was left still nosing over whether this person was Lorelai's friend or not. \n\nHis head canted to the side a little, impressed with the way his cousin could talk up just about anyone. He too had the gift of gab which seemed to run way up the family tree, but Lorelai possessed a certain effervescent charm that felt contagious. She couldn't smile without him and other folks smilin' too. \n\nIt was a big dumb grin on his face that faded away as he turned to throw another log in the stove. He'd forgotten about the burnt toast, but the darkened ring on the ceiling told the story. Hopefully Lorelai would forgive him. He'd get up there with a sponge the next day. Probably. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "Up the wooden stairs, she pushed the door open and raised an eyebrow upon entrance to the now-shared apartment. It smelled distinctly smoky, but she chalked it up to something in the fire and dismissed it. Shedding her coat, she tossed it onto the back of the kitchen chair and gestured to Dominic. \n\n\"My cousin, Nicky,\" She introduced, gesturing to the young man. \"Nicky, this is Lily,\" Lorelai set about grabbing the kettle. \"Coffee anyone?\" She was already on it anyhow, pouring water from a pitcher into the kettle and setting about putting it on the fire to boil. \n\n\"While we wait for the coffee...\" She looked to Dominic now. \"Drinks? Y'think it's the right time?\" Of course, it was always the right time these days. It seemed moonshine business was pretty damn lucrative when everyone needed something to soothe the physical and emotional stress of the wolves. \n\n\"Miss Lily Brooks, I been in Briar Ridge all my life and can't say I know yer face,\" She said. \"You new in town?\""
},
{
"author": "Lily Ann Brooks",
"message": "She followed Lorelai up the stairs, entering the apartment. Lily, who made sure to check every room she entered for potential escape routes and unseen dangers, did notice the charred ceiling. She didn't comment on it though, not their place, not their problem. \n\n\"Pleasure to meet you Dominic.\" Lily nodded her head at Dominic. \"If you're offering, yes please Lorelai.\" Her name rolled off the tongue easily, it was a very pretty name indeed. \n\nThe ex-speakeasy dancer found immense enjoyment in the seemingly total disregard of Prohibition laws that Briar Ridge had. A town after her own heart. \"I am new, well spotted. I got here a few weeks back.\" Her accent gave away where she was from, if people were familiar with it. \"I'm originally from New York, but my path led me here. And who am I to question that path right?\" She said, leaning against the armrest of the couch. \n\n\"I like it here, you've got good people in town, and a firm distaste for the law telling you what you can and can't drink. I feel right at home.\" She smiled. She didn't feel quite at home yet, but more so than she initially expected. Briar Ridge was growing on her, its people were kind and hardworking. Lily would be lying if she said they hadn't found themselves enjoying the place. Maybe one day it would become home to her, instead of just a place of residence."
},
{
"author": "Dominic Sevilla",
"message": "\"Lil',\" He said, as if that were a hello. It made sense abruptly to him that she was Lil because she was, well... Little. Still a respectable height for a woman, just like his cousin, but to him they were mighty small. \n\n\"Firm distaste for the law telling us anything in general.\" He laughed, but caught himself up halfway. Lorelai was given a sheepish grin. She might have had a drink now and then, but something told him that was about the end of her law-breaking. \n\n\"Always the time, ain't it?\" A few crystalline shot glasses were pulled from the very back of the top shelf of a high cupboard. Squinting one eye shut, he looked through em all. The last of them received a little cleaning with a dishtowel going *Squeak, squeak, squeak* Before they were set around the table with a few weighty clinks. \n\nA black coffee with some shine was always a welcome addition. He was happy to see the kettle go on, and didn't waste any time in rounding up a few of his cousin's mugs. \"I know you're probably sick to death of people askin' you Lil' *What brings you around here?*\" The last bit was done in a mock imitation of any of the local townswomen, always in folks' business. \"Anyone comin' from *New York*, well...\" \n\nHe gave her a sly grin before reaching back in the cupboard. A small wicker basket was taken out. Beneath a kerchief, there was a mess of sewing bits and bobs, and beneath those, a glass bottle. There was at least a pretense at hiding the 'shine. Only just. This wasn't the stuff in mason jars someone made in their bathtub. Briar Ridge was a legitimate supplier. The bottle had its own cork and label. It was set on the table and the basket stowed away. \"S'pose what I find a lot more interesting is what you don't like about Briar Ridge. I ain't from around here neither. Sure would like a shoulder to cry on.\""
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "\"New York!\" She repeated, getting the coffee out to properly set them up with a few mugs. She was glad to have Dominic around, even if just to reach all the high-up things she could never quite get at. \"I been to New York once,\" She said. \"Left from there to go to Paris for the war, that place is all business, I'll say...\" She whistled and shook her head. Too busy for her, that was just honest. \n\nShe cast a look over her shoulder at Nicky, swatting gently at his arm in a playful manner. She knew he was up to no good, truly, she could see it in the wicked turn of his mouth. \n\n\"I think it goes without sayin' that the worst thing about Briar Ridge is that *Infestation*,\" She said, shaking her head. \"Miss Lily, you been in town since the last full moon?\" She asked curiously, doling out coffee into each mug."
},
{
"author": "Lily Ann Brooks",
"message": "Lily wasn't sure how to feel about Dominic giving them a nickname instantaneously, but she wasn't going to comment on it. Nicknames were indicators of trust, and she could use some of that. An eyebrow rose upon mention of unlawful activities beyond the drinking kind. \"Oh? Is the sheriff in town not doing his job properly then?\" She wouldn't mind that at all, not one bit. \n\nShe laughed at the imitation of the nosy neighbors she'd encountered already. They prepared themselves for the familiar spiel of lies and partial truths. \"I ran into some trouble back home, or rather, it ran into me. If you don't mind I'd rather not go into specifics, it's quite personal.\" Then the next question came up, what did she dislike about Briar Ridge? She seized it with both hands, trying to avoid having to specify the details of her arrival altogether. The lack of plumbing for one, that had been a hard pill to swallow. Lily had never realized how lucky she'd been to have running water in her apartment until she'd found herself without it. \n\n\"You and I must not have frequented the same area then.\" She smiled. \"You fought in the war?\" Lorelai didn't strike her as the soldier type, nor did Lily think that women were allowed to fight. Not that that particular rule was one they followed, Lily herself often disguised themself as a man, or simply was a man, depending on the day. The war had always seemed so far removed from her, they had no urge to fight for their country. All they would fight for was themselves. \n_ _\n\n\"I haven't.\" She still believed that the 'werewolves' weren't real. That Carina had been joking. \"Carina told me, but-\" Were Lorelai and Dominic in on the joke? \"You can't be serious right? _Wolfmen?_\" She almost laughed. \"Werewolves? I'm supposed to believe that?\" Wolves they could believe readily, but men shifting, skin stretching, growing fur and craving the taste of their neighbors flesh? That she couldn't, no way. \"Aren't they just regular wolves, those live out there in the mountains and forests right?\""
},
{
"author": "Dominic Sevilla",
"message": "For a moment, his eyes went so wide they looked liable to fall right out of his head. Lily was awful brazen, saying she'd run into trouble and had it at her back. Just like that. Was that how they did things in New York? Well he hadn't made it there yet to find out. The feel he'd gotten for this little podunk town was that people faked nice, even if they weren't really nice. And so he'd been doing that an awful lot. There were a few rapid blinks at her and a lick of the lips before he looked down to the shots he was pouring. Wouldn't waste a drop. \n\n\"Lorelai likes to spice up her coffee and sit around sippin', but I say, why not start off strong, hm? Y'all really believe in all that? *Infestation* Business?\" \n\nHe set to dragging over the reading chair from the living room. Lorelai's dainty little dinette only had two chairs. Before she could even squawk at him, he was reassuring. \"Don't worry, don't worry. I ain't scratchin' the floors.\" \n\n\"Sounds an awful lot like just some wolves howlin' to me and fools getting tore up from drunken mishaps. Y'all actually seen one of 'em?\" The borrowed chair was shorter than those meant for dining, but he didn't mind. It was a comfy seat that he settled into, even if it put him at a funnier level with the table.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "\"I didn't fight in the war none,\" She said, a laugh following. \"Was a nurse in one of them fancy French hospitals. I even picked up a little French,\" She shrugged one of her shoulders. \"But I even spent some time in one of them little outposts on the battlefield, haulin' half dead bodies out to try and save fellas at war. It was...\" She bit the inside of her cheek at the memory. \"It wasn't nothin' pretty.\" Lorelai managed to say, before she cleared her throat and set the respective coffee mugs around the dinette. \"Nicky, you always want a reason to have a drink,\" She tutted softly and had a seat, crossing one leg over the other and picking up her coffee mug. \"But pour me a double anyhow,\" She said over the lip of her coffee. \n\nBut now, she sat up a little straighter. \"You two ain't tellin' me you don't believe in the werewolves!\" She clapped her hand down on the table. \"I've been lucky to not see one up close, but I've seen what they can do t' people,\" She said. \"Who do you think treats these people?\" \n\nLorelai sat forward, elbows on the table. \"Dimitra Florakis nearly had her face ripped off by one of them. She's got a big nasty scar on part'a her beautiful face now.\" She shook her head. \"And you know what I did see? I saw JD Monroe— he works at the lumber yard, y'see— I saw him put one down. Turned into the sheriff at dawn, it did.\" She nodded solemnly. \"Noah Rowe was a good man, too. At least... We thought. And the mayor too— one of them werewolves. Bleedin' black all over the place.\""
},
{
"author": "Lily Brooks",
"message": "Lily winked at Dominic when he reacted in what could only be described as shock to her casual reveal of past dealings with trouble. \"A man after my own heart.\" She said, referencing Dominic's suggestion to start off strong. She would need a strong drink if she was going to entertain this _werewolf_ business. \"A nurse, why yes that does make more sense than a soldier. Still, that's a tough job to do, I couldn't do it; all that blood, people dying, no thanks. You have my respect, Lorelai.\" Lily was okay with blood and injuries, but the idea of treating wounds made her skin crawl. It was one thing to be on the receiving end of medical care, but to be the one doing the caring, no, not for her.\n\n\"I heard some faint howling, but I didn't see anything. I'm with Dominic here. Besides, Carina admitted it was a story she'd made up. You don't have to continue with the werewolf charades around me.\" \n\nLily mumbled a thank you when taking one of the cups. They brought it to their lips as Lorelai continued speaking of werewolves as if they were real. They had just taken a sip of coffee when she heard Dimitra Florakis spoken by Lorelai. They couldn't hide their surprise at hearing it, suddenly overtaken by a small coughing fit as they choked on their drink. The name was familiar, _very_ familiar. She knew Dimitra; they'd worked in the same circles back in New York. How on earth did they both end up here? What were the odds? \"Apologies, different taste than I'm used to.\" She cleared her throat. \"It's not bad, don't get me wrong.\" \n\nThe wolf story kept growing more and more unbelievable, Lily had half a mind to suggest Lorelai shouldn't be partaking in any alcohol, lest she fully lose her mind. \"Your sheriff and mayor-\" They started, clearly not buying a single word of it. \"-were both werewolves?\" She snorted. \"What, so half the town is secretly some murderous creature? Don't country folk have firearms, can't you just shoot them?\""
},
{
"author": "Dominic Sevilla",
"message": "\"Funny of you to think I need a reason, Lou.\" She only had to say the word and her shot glass was near to full of that crystalline liquid hellfire. Good thing about being young was that he'd been just a child when the war broke out and couldn't do a damn thing about it, so he could only give his cousin a respectful little nod at all that talk of draggin' bodies and this and that. He'd seen dead men plenty. She was right. It wasn't pretty.\n\nThat little bit of respect was what kept him from cracking a grin at the name *Dimitra Florakis*. Sounded like a tune to hum more than a name. And then of course there was Lily about to cough one of her lungs on the table. Clearly Dimitra *Was* A real person. \n\nHe was content, for a time, just to go sippin' at his moonshine, drinkin' it neat like a glass of fine whiskey. There was no rush, and plenty of time for a buzz while he weighed his options. On the one hand, his instinct was to come to the defense of his cousin, as he would, perhaps sometimes too aggressively, for any he considered *His* Kin. On the other, her tales seemed to be growing more and more wild, and Lily was mostly saying what he was already thinking.\n\n\"Sorry, Lou, but *The mayor*? C'mon now. I mean, guess it's a good a story as any. Ain't seen no mayors 'round these parts, but yeah, what Lil' said. You can just shoot 'em, can't ya? Half the town's packin'.\" He hadn't seen Lorelai. Hadn't seen her come home those nights. Not yet. Drenched in blood, hands shakin', eyes red from cryin'. He'd seen her set a kid's broken arm and heard her chat about this or that cough kickin' around. But then, he'd only been here three weeks or so...\n\n\"What ya gonna say next, Lou? Youse a werewolf too? Alright, alright.\" He was a creature prone to greater empathy than one might think, so it was a gentle tone that came about, waving his palm out at her a little bit, \"I hear ya. Sounds like whatever's happenin' is awful scary. But wouldn't that make Dimitra Florakis a werewolf too? That's how it works, aint it?\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Lorelai Roswell",
"message": "She puffed her chest up a little, her cheeks flushed red not from the shine, but from embarrassment and a bit of irritation, admittedly. They really didn't believe her? They'd be sorry to not believe her when the next moon came around— she was sure she'd be working overtime, cleaning up the messes left behind and the shattered bones and teeth marks. \n\n\"I ain't lyin',\" She said, crossing her arms as she got defensive. \"Why would I lie about this kinda thing, huh? I swear to ya—\" She gave a defensive sniff. \"You shoulda seen it. It's awful; one werewolf done ate this boy right up and barely left anything behind for his family to bury,\" She said, fingers gripping the edge of the table. \n\n\"The bites and attacks— we don't know how it rightly works just yet. Beaux LeBlanc done been attacked almost every moon and he ain't one.\" She told them. \"It's just... Strange. But I'm tellin' the truth!\" She huffed, sitting up a little straighter. \"You'll see. Just mosey on down to the Ol Davis Ruins and talk to just about anybody about them werewolf coalition meetings.\" She was a little pissed now, picking up her cup to sip her moonshine. \n\n\"It ain't just normal wolves, I'll tell ya. Normal wolves don't take off people's limbs like that and bite through doors!\" She pointed out. \"And bullets aint do much against these beasts, I'll say that.\" She shook her head and sighed."
},
{
"author": "Lily Brooks",
"message": "Lorelai remained adamant that wolfmen were real and Lily decided they needed that drink now more than ever. Lorelai continued talking, growing more emotional on the topic. _Here's to wolfmen_, they thought as they picked up their shot glass and downed it in one fell swoop. She felt the familiar warmth of the alcohol, at least that was something that wasn't so different from what they were used to. Lily grinned at the thought that Lorelai, who seemed kind-hearted, was one of these ferocious wolves. Dimitra similarly didn't strike her as a murderous type, she didn't rely on brute force to break out of places. Then again, Lily didn't know what she expected werewolves to look like as people. Did they look the same as regular people?\n\nMore names, more victims, this town seemed to be dealing with a real infestation of these wolfmen. Just her luck, you leave behind a snake in New York and replace her with a wolf. At least the wolves seemed clear about their intentions. Lily was starting to accept that maybe there was truth to the story. She wondered how one became a werewolf, if you could control it, being invincible would come in mighty handy as a criminal. \"Werewolf coalition meetings?\" Lily couldn't imagine what kind of meetings one could have about wolfmen but maybe she would make her way down there, just to see what that was all about.\n\n\"Alright, alright, let's say they are real, is there nothing to be done about them? You all just accept that every month an oversized dog can barge into your house and tear you limb from limb?\""
}
] | 332.5 | 6,103 |
322.714286 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade knew very little about the Sinclair's but that didn't shy her away from making a visit. Addie was six years younger than her, she couldn't imagine how overwhelming it may have been for the younger girl. Even as she got older, caring for her siblings never got easier. Yet, there was a benefit. She had a ton of little boy's clothing and blankets left over from her two younger brothers. She didn't know why she brought it, maybe she was just sentimental but it overjoyed her to be able to help someone else. Addie seemed more than capable but her mama always said it took a village to raise a child. Now... Their village was Briar Ridge, which was plagued with beasts. Yet the people there were still kind as could be, sometimes. \n\nJade stepped onto the porch of the Sinclair cabin, she moved the basket that was admittedly a pain to bring over to her hip to rest its weight against as she knocked on the door. She always felt nervous just showing up. She was technically a stranger. She felt the same way when introducing herself to Maeve. Oddly enough, both times she had gifts to present for her potential intrusion. She hoped Addie would like them, there must've been a ton of different sizes, some the baby would need to grow into. She also snuck some things in there for Addie and Dallas, she had a dish topped with cellophane. Lord knows neither of them would feel up to cooking. \n\nPerhaps it was too much, she thought. She didn't want to seem overbearing right from the get-go. She couldn't help it. She liked to help, she liked to take care of others when they needed a little extra support. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Addie Sinclair",
"message": "The months prior to this Addie had pictured herself on a nice couch with the view of the city out the window. Suddenly she was missing the yelling on that would wake her up in the middle of the night. But now she was on the sofa of her childhood, dark circles around her eyes and holding her baby boy had just not stopped crying. \n\n\"Pleaseeeee, lord I am beggin' you-\" She groaned and rocked the baby in her arms. She heard the knock at the door. She was so exhausted and at her limit. She stood up and tore the door open like she might whoop some ass. \n\n\"Can I help you—\" Her eyebrows had been furrowed but relaxed as she seen Jade and her carrying all that around the town. \"Gosh, I'm sorry,\" She rubbed two fingers against her temple, shaking her head. \"Rough night,\" She mumbled, still a crying baby in her arms. \"Please, Come in.\" She stepped aside, holding the door for her. \n\n\"Know any tricks to get a baby to stop cryin'?\" There was definitely some desperation in her voice. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "From the porch, Jade could hear the baby crying as the woman must've neared the door. She didn't miss those days at all, which is why she didn't blame Addie for looking like a lion ready to pounce on her prey when she opened the door. The girl was just a baby herself. She knew it couldn't have been easy. \"No no, don't apologize.\" She quickly reassured her \"I brought some old baby stuff I had from when my brothers were little, I don't know why I kept it for the move but maybe this was why\" She spoke as she emptied her arms, carefully placing the basket on the floor \n\n\"I know a few...\" Now she didn't want to overstep Addie as a mother, although some tricks she had learned couldn't hurt, especially since she was asking. \"My brother, Walter. He was a really fussy baby. I used to lay him on his back and rub his stomach. It couldn't hurt to try it\" She laid the blanket over a couch cushion for Addie to safely lay her baby down \"Babies feel a lot more than one would think, if mama is stressed, so is the baby\" She offered sweetly \"Here, I brought stuff for you too actually\" She would let Addie get comfortable on the couch first, of course. Everyone thought to take care of the baby first and the mother second, which was a backward way of thinking if you asked her, to take care of the mother the baby would undoubtedly be cared for in abundance. \n\nShe had one of those hot bottles for pains and the potential cramping Addie may experience, she knew this helped her mom a lot. She wanted to help, hopefully, she wasn't overstepping. She held the hot bottle for a moment, glancing over to Addie \"How are you doing hun, have you slept at all?\" She questioned \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Addie Sinclair",
"message": "She was very thankful for the offer of help. Even if it hurt her pride. Addie believed that once this baby popped out of her the motherly instincts would kick in and she would have all the knowledge of a mother on her 10th baby. But that was very unrealistic. She just had very high hopes for herself!\n\nShe brought the baby over to the couch. \"No- Please, Anything you think can make him stop,\" She laid him down on the blanket, sitting next to him and cooing at him from the sideline as he screamed at the top of his lungs.\n\n\"Thank you for all of this, lord only knows how much I needed it.\" She laid with a slightly delirious laugh. \n\nShe took the hot bottle from her and gently placed it on waist, leaning back and just trying to relax like that while she could. \"Slept? Oh hardly... Even when I can get some shut eye... I just... Hear those growls..\" She swallowed thick. \"You know which ones...\" Her chest went real tight. She wasn't ready to handle all of these things at once. Raising a baby here was going to be more of a nightmare than she thought.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade frowned, Addie was just a baby herself and she was doing this without help... Well surely her brother helped where he could. Jade thought about all of the tips and tricks she had picked up while raising her brothers. She heard Addie thank her but she didn't need it \"Oh you're welcome but... There's no need to thank me, this is... Well, despite all that happened, I like to help and thank you for trusting me to do so\" Jade watched Addie's face change, she knew the fear she had felt all too well, having seen the beast first hand injure her loved ones. \"Oh honey\" Jade gently rubbed her shoulder. \"It's a scary thing to live through, that's for sure. Especially when you have the weight of bringing a new life into the world but you did it\" She looked at the fussy little baby. \n\nJade let out a thoughtful hum, Addie did give her permission to try anything she could think of to get the baby to stop crying but she didn't want to resort to holding the baby just yet. She knew better than to cross a mother's boundaries, while she didn't think Addie would bite her head off, she didn't want to chance it until reaffirming with her. She went over to the basket of things she had brought. \"You know, these things are a godsend\" She motioned to the pacifier. She took a moment to wipe it off really well with her shirt, giving it to the baby. Secretly hoping it would work, lord only knew how tired Addie was. \n\n\"Well, let's hope this can get you some rest. I read in one of my mama's parenting books that sucking is actually soothing for babies. I have no idea why, I guess it's like some sort of stimulation\" She knelt down on the floor next to Addie. She was holding her breath, mainly because the baby could spit the pacifier out and then the hunt for a new solution would start. \"Is there anything I can do for you specifically, hun?\" \n||"
},
{
"author": "Addie Sinclair",
"message": "Her head was ringing. She just needed to hear a bit of silence. All of the stress and pressure she was going through was deeply impacting not only her mental state, but her connection to her son. She had thought once the baby had came there would be no doubts and only the deepest love for the child. But... There was something missing. \n\nShe took a deep breath as she comforted her. She had never had many women friends, always wanting to go after the boys and be a bit of a mean girl... So it was strange. And the only way her eyes could see it was like a mother. God, She had missed that feeling. She watching the pacifier make it's way to her son's mouth and then there is was... \n\nHe made a sour face at first but quickly caught onto the device, sucking away at it. \n\nShe was holding her breath. This had to be too good to be true- \n\n\"He actually—\" She covered her mouth with her hand. \"Oh praise the lord,\" She said and let out a deep exhale. \n\n\"This is already just perfect-\" She was going to be able to relax a bit now. \"Be careful askin' me if you can help with anything... I'll have you watching him for a few hours of shut eye..\" She looked up, obviously implying that she should do that without pushing it onto her."
},
{
"author": "Jade Rose Grant",
"message": "Jade was hopeful that the pacifier would work, it had to work. Otherwise, she was flat out of options, she didn't want to fail Addie like that. She watched as the baby made a sour face but quickly adjusted. She breathed a sigh of relief alongside Addie, who knew how long the baby had been fussy, she knew Addie must've been exhausted. Trying to take care of herself and a baby. The full moon events were exhausting enough, adding a baby into the mix, surely made things more stressful \n\nJade listened as Addie mentioned getting a few hours of sleep while Jade watched the baby. Did Addie really trust her like that? Well that was flattering, to say the least \"Hun why don't you go get some sleep\" She took the bait, knowing that Addie wasn't trying to force her but she liked to be helpful where she could. \"We'll be fine, I'm sure of it\" She offered a playful wink in return \"Make sure to keep that hot bottle on though, it'll help with the soreness\" \n\nThis sorta reminded her of when she would try to take care of her mother after her brothers, except she never really took the help. She turned to her other vices and simply forgot that she had children at all. Needless to say, she was glad that Addie was allowing her to help, something about it was sorta healing to her. Maybe it's just cause she felt like she was making a difference in someone else's life but who knows?\n\n||"
}
] | 317 | 2,259 |
349.05 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "The last few months had been up and down for JD, between his drinking and his.. Issues.. He really had not been all there. Now, that was still the case. JD was still p most nights with nightmares, he found himself at the speakeasy more and more and up pacing at night but.. \n\nHis mind had cleared somewhat.. Just a bit since he passed out the night before at 7 pm, and had slept clean through to 6pm the next day. It was the first time he had a full nights sleep in months \n\n11 hours was a lot of sleep but it was a lot of sleep he needed. \n\nWhen he came in at 6pm into the den, he rubbed his eyes and sat down next to Dallas at the kitchen table. \"Hey..\" He said as ran his hand over his face. \n\n\"Sorry.. I ain't mean to sleep that long.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "Honest to God, Dallas was awful worried about JD these days. Killin' that werewolf had really done somethin' to JD; and it wasn't no good, neither. As much as Dallas wanted werewolves dead and all, he couldn't imagine that a task like that had been easy on JD. His coworker, his *Friend* Was a whole lot softer and kinder than he could ever be. JD was usually all smiles, like a solid light at the end of a darkened tunnel. He was sunshine, he was crackin' jokes during a hard work day, and he was warmth. God knows, JD had made Dallas feel a warmth in his belly, unbidden and terrifying a feeling as it was. \n\nEven though JD oversleepin' was a little bit of a scare, he figured that he might really be needin' all that sleep. It was a relief when he heard the tell-tale rustlin' of JD climbin' out of bed, shuffling to grab his clothes, and out to the kitchen table where he sat. \n\n\"Don't 'pologize,\" He mumbled under his breath. Wayne was sat on his knee, eating up something that looked vaguely beige and soft. He was grateful that Joanna came by and whisked the baby away, and he twisted to face JD more now. \"Ain't nothin' wrong with sleepin' in.\" He cleared his throat, looking out to the slowly setting sun. \"...You alright?\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "JD looked down at little Wayne on his friend's knee and gave him a little wave. That baby was something else, real smart, and real cute. He worried about him a lot, what with the wolves and all, after what had happened to his mama, he worried they would come back for Wayne too, and for Joanna in conjunction. \n\nHe worried about Dallas too, he didn't think Dallas worried enough about himself. He was real strong, and real capable, but God was he under a lot of pressure with everything. \n\nHe shrugged his shoulders, \"It was gettin' dark when I went to sleep, and gettin' dark when I got up, so for a second I ain't think I slept at all but.. I felt too rested for that to be true..\" He said as he took in a deep breath. \n\nHe looked to Joanna and smiled as she walked past, grabbing the baby and he moved his chair a little bit closer to Dallas'. \"I think so.. I'm feelin'.. Better I guess.\" He said as he thought for a moment. \"Can't lie and say I suddenly feel great what with everythin' but.. I'm sober.. I'm rested.. So I feel alright, given everything..\" He said looking down at his hands, and then back up to Dallas. \n\n\"How're you doin'? You feelin'... Okay.. Recently?\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "Dallas stretched out his leg and rubbed the back of his neck as he got adjusted in his seat proper. The world had been... Hard. In all honesty, he hadn't even let himself *Grieve*. Addie had been all he had of blood left in this world, and she was gone. He thought she'd be safer here with him, out of the city, away from them boys she was always gettin' into trouble with. But she'd come back at the wrong time, his prayin' had been answered too damn late. \n\nHis only little sister, the one thing left in this world... Well, she'd barely been recognizable when they'd picked her up off the floor, face mauled to hell and blood seeping from the cracks in her skull. Dallas hadn't let himself feel a damn thing besides the burning, aching *Rage* That roared like an inferno. Reminded him of them damn coal haints that had been pesterin' him so. \n\nWayne needed him. JD needed him. Joanna needed him. The coalition, Alma, the *Town*.... Well, they all needed him as part of the team, didn't they? Another soldier in the army, another gun, another bullet. \"I'm awright,\" He mumbled under his breath, because he gotta be alright. Otherwise, he was doomed to fall apart, wasn't he? \n\n\"Been worried 'bout you,\" He told him, voice real measured and slow. \"Ever since... The sheriff and all.\" He bit down on the inside of his cheek. \"Ain't been the same since then, JD. Can't say I blame ya.\" Not when the beast turned back into a man, right before their eyes."
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He studied Dallas' face for a moment before he nodded, and looked down at his hands again. \"Right yeah..\" He said as he took in a deep breath. \n\n\"I think I been doin' a little too much drinkin' if I'm bein' honest..\" He said as he scratched the back of his neck. \"That can't help.. Marched into the mayors office the other day, demandin' those kids. Said I was gonna build them a fuckin' room and that I'd kill the wolf babies if I had to.\" He shook his head. \n\n\"What the hell is that? I ain't gonna take those kids, and God knows they ain't gonna give em' to me anyway, thankfully.\" He said taking in a deep breath. \n\n\"Ain't my place to even ask for em', ain't my house. I ain't even think about what I was doin' when I did it. I ain't no baby killer.\" He said looking exasperated. \n\n\"I gotta dry out.\" He said with a grumble. \"Ain't good for me and it ain't good for you.. I'm real worried about you. Got enough on your plate without me stumblin' around actin' like a fuckin' idiot.\" He said, it was the most sense he had made in months. Sobriety suited him well. \n\nHe looked up to him, \"I'm sorry.. I ain't.. Really been there for ya. Like I shoulda been.. It ain't right.\" He said his hand resting on Dallas' for a moment, before he quickly pulled it away. \"I was too caught up.. I mean sure I still want those fuckers dead but.. I ain't even been payin' you, or Joanna or Wayne any attention neither.. And yall are my family.\" He shook his head. \n\n\"It's real fucked up.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "Dallas would've perhaps agreed only vaguely with JD - he could cite his father as bein' a real good example of drinking too damn much. He was pretty sure there wasn't nothin', not even prohibition itself, that coulda kept his father off the bottle. However, JD was not his father, and therefor, he would've perhaps waved it off. On the other hand... Dallas had not been aware of JD's little stint at the mayor's, and for that, his eyes went wide. \n\n\"JD, what in the hell?\" He couldn't help himself, in all honesty. \"What the hell were you thinkin'?\" He supposed that *Was* What the alcohol did to ya. He stood up, pushing himself up from his seat with a hand on the table, and made his way to the cabinets. He pulled out the Cooper Moonshine stowed away inside, along with the few beer bottles that they'd managed to get off Dimitra Florakis a few weeks back. \"I'll offload these to some old drunk,\" He said. \"Or the very least, the speakeasy'll take 'em.\" He said, turning back to face JD as he lined up the bottles. \n\n\"You ain't gotta worry 'bout me. I ain't need lookin' after.\" He told him, and his chest got strangely tight for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint. \"You been through hell and back, JD.\" Dallas crossed the kitchen to stand in front of him in his chair, looking down at him. His hand came out and laid heavy on his shoulder, squeezing just a little. \"You, Joanna, and Wayne... You's all I got left.\" He said softly. \"Can you promise me you ain't gonna do nothin' stupid on them full moons? Can you promise me that?\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He groaned, \"Well I wasn't thinkin' Dallas, that's what I'm talkin' about..\" He said as he pinched the bridge of his nose, and glanced down at his feet. \"Trust me, I'm embarrassed. I ain't happy about it..\" He said as he leaned back to watch him. \n\nHe shook his head, \"I ain't want you to not be able to have no booze in the house cuz'a me..\" He said with a frown. \"I can manage.. I'll just stay away from it so you can still have it..\" He said running a hand through his hair. \n\nAs Dallas came over to him, he looked up towards him, and he glanced at the hand on his shoulder. \"You have too Dallas.. You been through hell and back.. If anything you got it worse..\" He said furrowing his brows. \n\n\"Just because you don't need takin' care of, or lookin' after doesn't mean I ain't want to..\" He said as he stood up, still standing close to Dallas and looking up at him. \"You know.. Like you said, us, and Wayne and Joanna is what we got left.. And I ain't been very good family ta' you.\" He said with a hand running down his arm. \"But I'm gonna do better, start lookin' after ya whether ya like it or not..\" He said with a small smile. \"I mean.. Given I ain't start actin' like a psycho again.\" \n\nHe paused and nodded, \"I promise. I ain't gonna do nothin' stupid on them full moons.\" He put his hand up, \"Swear.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "\"I don't need booze,\" He told JD, and that was honest. Sometimes, he worried he might one day turn into his father. He ain't never want that - not for Wayne, if he was gonna be raisin' him. He knew what it was like to be raised by a man like that, and it never did him or Addie no good. \"Best t' just get rid of it. That way, you ain't gonna want to drink it anyhow.\"\n\nHe was standing so close to JD, he could feel the warmth of his body radiating offa him. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up a little, and he cleared his throat. \"You been good family. You been great family,\" He mumbled, and Dallas didn't know how to tell JD that he didn't see him as family like he saw Addie or Wayne or even Joanna - it was a different, scary feeling. He cared so much about JD, but not like a brother. More than a best friend. Somethin' like... Well, somethin' he ain't wanna say out loud. \n\nHis shoulders dropped a little as JD swore to him that he wasn't gonna do nothin' stupid no more. He believed him, because when had he ever lied to Dallas? He'd known him for a while now, and he couldn't think of a single time. \"You ain't gotta look after me,\" He started. \"But... Nothin' I can do t' stop ya, huh?\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He resigned, and shrugged his shoulders with a nod. \"Fine.. I'll let ya.. But if ya end up changin' yer mind and want it around.. I want ya to have it.. I'll be real good about it. Won't even touch it.\" He said putting a hand up in a swear once again before letting it fall to his side. \n\nAs Dallas insisted that he was good family, JD just took a deep breath in. He didn't really.. Well.. He didn't feel like he was, but he didn't have it much to compare it to before now. Just Joanna really. He didn't have much family outside of her and what he did have well.. It was not even close to good family. Maybe he was better than he thought even if he doubted it, with his months long stupor of walking around and grumbling about killing werewolves and not much else. \n\nHe shook his head as he looked up at the other, \"Well.. I mean.. I'll make ya a deal.. You can look after me.. Like ya been.. And I'll start doin' my part of lookin' out for ya.. Because I ain't been doin' a very good job..\" He said taking in a deep breath, \"Good family maybe but.. I ain't comprmisin' that I should be keepin my eye on how yer feelin'..\" He said. \n\nWhen he looked up at Dallas, there were a lot of words he wished he could express to him. A lot of things he wished he could say, things boys didn't really say to each other. They were things that for small moments, JD wondered if Dallas thought too, but only for a moment before he remembered that Dallas loved him like his own kin. \n\nBut then again, what was stopping him from saying them? The worry? The shame? The idea that Dallas would never want to talk to him again? That didn't seem likely. \n\nHe paused, \"Dallas, can I talk to you in.. In the room?\" He said motioning towards the room they were currently sharing, and arching a brow."
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "He could agree to those terms. He saw nothin' wrong with that at all— he supposed they could take care of each other if JD really wanted to. Though he had to admit, he wasn't sure what JD could do for him; it wasn't like he was all that good at talkin' bout his feelings. He wasn't even good at talkin' period.\n\nHis eyes flickered from his companion to their bedroom door. The house was small; JD and Dallas had been relegated to one room, while Joanna and... *Addie* Had had to share theirs. Now it was Joanna and the baby, but sometimes Wayne got so fussy, he spent most'a nights sleepin' on Dallas' chest. He couldn't deny him that kinda thing— not with his mama gone and all. \n\n\"Sure thing,\" He cleared his throat, stepped into the bedroom with him, and promptly shut the door up tight. There were two beds crammed into the space, along with a wooden dresser. That was about it, in all honesty, excerpt for little things here and there— and the gun beside Dallas' bed. \n\nWhatever JD wanted to talk about, had to be serious. He couldn't help but be a little nervous 'bout the whole thing, in honesty. Did he wanna move out? He hoped not. Then he'd just worry bout it more and more. \"Whatsa matter?\" He asked him as he took a seat on the edge of his own bed."
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He felt his palms sweating, and he couldn't help but wonder if he should drop it here. Tell him some random thing and walk out of the house, deal with the aftermath of his strange behavior later. \n\nWhen Dallas sat, he shook his head, \"It ain't.. Exactly somethin' wrong.. It is a little bit more... I don't know.. Complicated.. Than that..\" He said as he scratched the back of his neck. \n\nHe took a seat on the edge of his own bed, but turned to face Dallas, looking down at his hands and fidgeting with them as he spoke. \"Now.. I haven't.. I mean..\" Fuck, could he even do this? Should he even do this? \"At.. Any point if you understand what I'm sayin'.. And you want me ta' stop talkin'.. I won't be mad none... I'd rather you stop me 'fore I make things too uncomfortable..\" \n\n\"I haven't.. I wasn't gonna say nothin'.. Seein' as.. I was scared you ain't like what I got ta say.. And I ain't blame ya if I didn't.. But we ain't guaranteed no tomorrows no more.. You know.. Like I don't know when some day might be the last one I see ya.. And so.. I wanted to tell ya somethin'..\" He knew he was drawing this out too long but God Damn, how was he supposed to say this? \n\n\"I wanted you ta know that I love ya..\" And he thought about ending it there, at an awkward I love you that could easily mean in the obvious way of frendship or family. But he didn't, he decided to keep going, and push through. \"But.. I ain't love you like.. One man.. Usually loves another man.. Like.. I ain't love you like.. A brother or a friend.. I love you like.. A man.. Loves a woman..\" He said clearing his throat, as he kept his eyes glued on his hands.\n\n\"I know that ain't.. Right.. But.. I do.. And I have for a long time.. I ain't really planned on ever tellin' you but.. You know.. I am scared I will die.. And I ain't never told you and then.. Wherever I go.. Heaven or Hell, I would regret.. Not tellin' you..\" He said as he chewed on his lip for a minute. \n\n\"You ain't really even gotta say nothin' back.. I know this is uncomfortable to hear.. But it's the truth.. I can't help it.. You are.. The most amazin' man I ever met.. I think yer real handsome, and real kind.. And funny, and sweet.. And you make me feel real cared about.. I ain't think there is anyone in Briar Ridge.. Or really the world as special as you.. And even if you ain't never wanna hear from me again, I think you should know how amazin' you are.. Because it's.. You are.. Yer.. Like.. Don't know.. Perfect. And I'm real scared of losin' you.. Over.. This.. Or somethin' else.. But I just can't act like I ain't feel that way no more.. I mean.. I ain't gonna bring it up none, but.. I ain't feel like I can hold it in, knowing next moon I could die.. Or..\" He trailed off and shook his head, \"And then I ain't ever old you.. How much.. You mean ta me.\" He said with a nod. \n\n\"I'm sorry.. Dallas, I know this prolly ain't.. Yer favorite thing ta' hear but hopefully at least ya know.. You can.. Take note of how amazin' I think you are.. Maybe you can see it yerself sometimes because I ain't think you give yerself nearly enough credit for it.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "Dallas put his elbows on his knees, resting on them for now, and he could see plainly that JD was filled with a nervous energy. He couldn't help but wanna tell JD that everything was okay. Whatever he said, wouldn't change nothin' about how Dallas felt about him. \n\nHe felt his heart stop for what felt like a full minute. He wasn't quite sure he was livin', and it felt like his ears were about full of cicadas singing in his ears. JD was talkin', but he wasn't sure he was hearin' it all. He was staring right through JD, eyebrows raised, and after a moment, the noise of the world slowly filtered back in. \n\n*You ain't really even gotta say nothin' back...* \n\nHe sat up a little more, and JD was still stumbling over his words, because JD really thought that this kind thing would *Upset* Him? No, no, never. \n\nDallas stood up. He was never so good with words, he had always been far better with actions. He had always struggle to be as articulate as others, and often times, he found himself feelin' real stupid. Everybody else could wax on like they was readin' poetry, but Dallas often fumbled over his own tongue. But JD never made him feel stupid. Not ever, not even once. JD had been there for him through Addie, through the fire at the lumber yard, through even the death of his pa. \n\nJD was handsome, he was smart, he was hard working and he was his best friend. For so long, he'd even denied that— he didn't think that JD could possibly be his friend because he was his boss. But it didn't seem to really matter, did it? Cuz JD was his friend, and even more than that, JD loved him like he loved him back, and it felt like all the blood was rushing to his ears. \n\n\"Don't pologize,\" He mumbled, and he pulled JD into a real tight hug. \"You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for.\" Dallas promised softly. \"Nothin' at all.\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "JD was admittedly pretty nervous when Dallas stood up, and he watched him move closer. He swallowed hard, he wasn't sure exactly what Dallas was going to say, or do but.. He figured whatever it was he deserved it. This was at the end of the day, probably, a bad idea. \n\nHe took in a deep breath, but was more than plesantly surprised when he felt arms around him instead. He blinked a few times, taken aback by the action before he let his own arms move around him, and he took in a deep breath. \n\n\"I ain't?\" He asked with furrowed brows. He took a moment, and he was quiet, holding onto the other tightly. He buried his face in his shoulder, and decided he could stay like that for the rest of his life if he was allowed, though it wasn't really likely since.. The had jobs and responsibilities. \n\nHe finally pulled away a little bit, and his hand moved up to Dallas cheek, he wanted to kiss him but.. Honestly he wasn't sure if that was a mutual feeling or if the other was just comforting him. \n\n\"I ain't know what yer feelin'.. Right now.. Really.. But I'd really like ta kiss ya.. If yer feelin'.. How I'm feelin'..\" He said as he slowly moved the hand from Dallas' cheek to the back of his neck. \n\n\"If you don't want me to, I won't though..\" He said as he look up at him, and leaned in to press his lips against Dallas' if he was willing."
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "Honestly, this might've been more frightenin' than staring down a haint in the woods, or shooting a werewolf barrelin' towards ya. This was about as scary as something could get, wasn't it? Dallas was havin' to come to terms with a lot of stuff real damn fast, and he felt like his chest might explode. \n\nHe would've been wholly content to let JD stay right there forever. Maybe here, in this room, they could pretend everything else wasn't goin' on. No dead sisters, no werewolves, no lumber yard. Maybe for just a minute, they could pretend that whatever *This* All was... Wasn't so damn confusing and scary. \n\nHis grip around JD tightened up and he let out a rush of breath. When they pulled back a little, and he felt JD's hand on his cheek, he felt himself get all flustered all over again. His breath felt stuck in his throat and his eyes shot down to stare at the space between their chests; of which there was hardly any. \n\n\"I ain't ever kissed before,\" He told JD in confidentiality. How was he 27 years old and had never kissed nobody? Well, bein' as shy as he was, it wasn't so unheard of. But JD was so close and he was leanin' in all close, and Dallas quickly shut his eyes before their mouths touched. \n\nIt was a little strange, a little awkward, but it was a work in progress. He didn't know where to put his hands, so he kept them on his waist. He figured JD musta had a lot of lady friends, because he was a good kisser. Or maybe he just had real low standards for kissing, so just about any kiss woulda been amazing to him. Who knew? \n\nWhen they broke the kiss after a moment, he exhaled and realized his hands were shaking. \"That was nice,\" He managed so softly."
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "JD nodded as Dallas spoke, he was both surprised and not surprised really. Dallas was a very handsome man, that was where the surprise cam in, but he was also very shy. JD knew that. He wasn't much of a talker, and even less of a socializer. He was beyond grateful for working with him, because he was sure they would have never spoken otherwise. \n\n\"That's okay.\" He said before there lips met. When they did, JD felt his cheeks light up. He had kissed before, sure but this was much different than his other experiences. He had expected it to be, really. His thumb rubbed gently against the back of Dallas' neck as they kissed. \n\nPart of him wondered if he would wake up from a dream any second, finding out he was in fact still asleep but that didn't happen. He hoped if it did it wouldn't be for a very long time. \n\nHe wanted to stay here in this world where Dallas didn't recoil at his confession for as long as possible. \n\nWhen their lips parted, and Dallas commented, he nodded. \"It was.. Real nice.. Yer a good kisser.\" He said, swallowing as he slowly pulled away a bit more but still close to him. \"Thank ya.. For.. Lettin' me.\" He said taking in a deep breath., taking the other's hands in his as he felt them shake and giving them a squeeze. \n\n\"I just.. I wanted you ta' know just how.. Much I care about ya.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "It really did feel like a dream. It was nice, to have a dream when all that had been happenin' these days was somethin' outta a nightmare. Dallas wondered if he was sleepin', cuz he couldn't imagine nothin' beautiful comin' outta Briar Ridge... Maybe 'cept a dead werewolf. That was about second on the list of good things, right after kissin' JD Monroe. \n\nHe tasted like sleep, and Dallas decided that he didn't mind it one bit. JD's hands were softer than his, less calloused. They were strong, yeah, but they didn't have all the scars he did. All them years of rigorous yardwork on the farm had done a number on him, but JD didn't seem to mind one bit, his hand tucked away all safe in his palm like that. \n\nHere, for a long moment, Dallas felt like he could just wrap his arms up around JD and keep him safe from anything. Werewolves, haints, whatever came their way. Maybe it was the euphoria of havin' a first kiss, but Dallas sure did feel like he could prolly lift the moon and the stars up in the sky if JD asked. \n\n\"I care about ya too,\" He managed, and his hands were still shaking, and he realized how much emotion he was holdin' in. Euphoria, pain, grief, and love. It was love, deep down in his belly, swirlin' like current in the river on a rainy day. \"More than y' could know, honest.\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He pulled the other's hands close to him as he spoke, holding hem to his chest as the other continued to shake. He knew Dallas must be nervous, if not from the shaking hands then the way he looked at him. He held them tightly, and took in a deep breath. \n\n\"That ain't true.. I can imagine it plenty.. You ain't read my mind.. I care bout you a whole lot..\" He said as he reached up one hand to brush some hair from the other's face while keeping his hand wrapped around the other two. \n\n\"I'm real nervous.. Real scared about what's been happenin'.. What's gonna come but.. I know fer sure that whatever it is I wanna.. I wanna be with you when it happens..\" He said, and admittedly he was nervous about what had been happening in Briar Ridge and whether or not he would even live to have a future with Dallas but... \n\n\"I ain't.. Expectin'.. Nothin'.. If bein'.. With me ain't somethin' you want.. I mean I know.. I mean.. You know.. I ain't.. I ain't been myself lately but.. You know..\" He looked up at her. \n\n\"I promise ta' try.. And be uh.. Ta' try and not.. Be so.. Crazy..\" He said clearing his throat."
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "\"Y'don't gotta be scared,\" He told JD, and the hands that were clasped in JD's suddenly tightened up around his one. \"I ain't gonna let nobody hurt ya. And nobody is gonna lay a hand on Joanna, or Wayne, not ever again. I ain't been nearly careful enough, but I promise...\" He squeezed his hands in his. \"I ain't gonna fuck it all up this time.\" \n\nHe had let Addie get hurt, but he wouldn't let it happen again. One death was enough on his watch - never again. He wouldn't let JD get hurt, and nobody else in their strange little family was gonna get hurt. \"You don't gotta try and be nothin' for nobody. You don't gotta be nobody but yerself, JD.\" \n\nHe loved this man, and everything that came with him, too. Even if he was a little off his rocker. \"Just don't go gettin' yerself in no extra trouble.\" Like takin' werewolf puppies or nothin'. \"But bein' with ya is somethin' I want. I want it real bad.\" His thumb rubbed across his knuckles tenderly, and he swallowed. \"If that's somethin' yer wantin'.\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He shook his head as Dallas spoke and looked down. In the end, he knew that Dallas had very little control when it was all said and done. He was doing the best he could, and his best was great but he also knew that death was filling Briar Ridge and it was always a worry. \n\n\"You ain't fuck nothin' up.. It ain't yer fault Dallas..\" He said coming one hand through his hair. \"You should know that.. This place.. It ain't easy to control..\" He said as he looked up to him for a moment. \n\nHe took in his words about just being himself, but.. He knew maybe he should still work towards.. Not being so crazy. Sometimes he was good and then sometimes.. Nightmares kept him up for days. The drinking didn't help so maybe.. Stopping that would fix him up real good. \n\n\"I ain't gonna get in trouble.. I promise.. I'll be real good.\" He said as his cheeks went red and he slowly nodded. \"That's somethin' I want real bad.. More than anythin'. I been wantin' it a long while.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "As much as JD tried to reassure him (and he did so, often), Dallas knew he had, in fact, fucked it up once before. He had let Addie get hurt. Why hadn't he been there with her? Why had he ever let her outta his sight, especially on a full moon? Sometimes, he got mad thinkin' about it. Why did nobody try and save her? Did they all just stand and stare at her? Was that it? \n\nBut Dallas needed to be calm. He took a deep breath and put his chin on JD's head, before he squeezed his hands again. He was pulling him in closer until he was nestled snugly in his chest, and Dallas could feel JD's heart slamming, even through all their layers. \"I been wantin' it too,\" He mumbled to himself softly. They both wanted this more than anything - and he hoped they got it. \"Guess... That means we ought then,\" He mumbled. How did this work? Did they hug after? Kiss? Shake hands? \n\nHe pulled back enough to look at JD's face, his arms still around his waist. \"I gotta admit now, that I ain't ever... Been kissed.\" He mumbled. \"So please, don't... Think bad of me cuz of it.\""
}
] | 319.5 | 6,981 |
249.157895 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "With everything that was going on, JD felt lost. The whole of the town was antsy, and he was too. It seemed to be the time of month this happened coming around again. After the last time, when the creature had shown itself, and JD had proved to be utterly useless, he was determined to be of some use this time. \n\nFeeling especially anxious that particular night, knowing what was coming in the next few days, he decided to play his best, and really only friend, a visit. He made his way to Dallas' house, pistol on his hip. Sure, he knew the real danger was a few days out but the recent events had put him on edge most of these days, finding himself sleeping less and relaxing even less so. \n\nHe made his way up to the door, and raised his hand knocking against the door. He waited for the other to answer before he nodded, \"Hey uh.. Mind if I come in for a few? This shit goin' around has got me feelin' nervous.\" He said his eyes shooting around before they landed on Dallas. \"Figured I would uh.. Come check on you and your sister.\" He said with a nod, even if most of the reason for his visit was his own comfort. \n\n\"How is she settlin' back in, by the way?\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "Things had been settling lately. Sometimes, it almost felt like things were normal again. Almost. The ever-looming threat of the werewolves was right around the corner, and it was enough to scare any brave soldier in this world. It was scary; not knowing when or who or *Why*... \n\nThe knock came as a surprise, and he put his gun down on the table as he'd been cleaning it. He went and opened it, eyebrows raised at JD. \"Shoulda known,\" He mumbled to him and stepped aside to let him in. \n\n\"You ain't gotta knock.\" He told him. \"Yer always welcome. Addie... She's restin' in her room. She's settlin' in alright, I s'pose. As good as somebody can be when you got beasts running around.\" He shook his head. \n\nHe offered JD a seat. \"Do you wanna drink or...?\" He was grabbing the water pitcher off the table. \"Scary shit about to go down. A few days time,\" He told him. \"You ready to stand guard at the cage?\" He asked him. \n\n\"Ain't easy. We could get hurt. But I don't want you worrying about nothin',\" He told him. \"I ain't gonna let nobody hurt you neither.\" He said."
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He nodded, \"Well, I wasn't raised not ta knock when I get to someone's house. Besides, what if it were just Addie here and I scare her? That is the last thing I want to do.\" He said as he stepped inside, and looked around before taking a seat at the table where he usually did. \n\n\"Glad to hear she's doin' alright, gotta say, I wouldn't be itchin' to get back ere', gotta be just about the worst time ta do it.. Must be nice havin' her back though, I'll say that. Don't know what I'd do if Joanna went off, probably be much more lonely. Probably be here a hell of a lot more.\" He said with a snort of laughter. \n\n\"I'll take some, yeah, if ya don't mind.\" He said as he watched the other pour him a glass before pulling it closer and taking a sip. He took in a deep breath, \"Yeah, bout as ready as I'll ever be I spose', I'm determined to actually be of some fuckin' help this time.\" He said as he shook his head. \n\nHe looked up towards the other as he mentioned JD not worrying about it, and he smiled a bit before he looked back down at his drink and shrugged his shoulders. \"Well sure, I guess neither of us got somethin' to worry about then. I got you and you got me, so, we'll be just fine.\" He said though he really wasn't as sure as he tried to seem. \n\n\"I can't wait till we catch some of these fuckin' things. I'm tired of this.. Fuckin' terrorizing our town stuff. We've lost and almost lost too many good people. It's awful.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "He took a seat and solemnly nodded along with JD's words. His eyes were focused on his companion's hands, shifting from resting on the table to his thighs and back. He needed something to focus on these days or his mind went off other places. Worrying about things too damn much; he needed to stay focused. Worrying wouldn't do a damn thing right now. \n\n\"If I see a damn werewolf...\" He shook his head. \"I'll blast it right between the eyes,\" He said. He looked at JD's face now before it flickered away again. \"You ain't gotta worry about all of that, JD, you just bein' somewhere is help enough. Besides, you ain't almost shot your damn leg off like I did.\" He scowled and rubbed his temple. \n\n\"Shit happens. Guns jam and misfire 'n all that...\" He exhaled and glanced down the hall to where Addie's room was. \"She's pregnant and all... Which is wild, really. I ain't know that til she wrote me in her letter.\" He shifted. \n\n\"JD, I need you to promise me that whatever happens that night... If I go, you help Addie.\" He said. \"I ain't want her goin' through this alone.\" He bit the inside of his cheek."
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He nodded, \"I've been practicing my shot, these things are infesting the damn town at this point. We're gonna need just bout' as many hands on deck as we can get.\" He said as he took in a deep breath and looked over to Dallas. \n\nDallas was his best friend, and one of his only friends. It felt like a weird confession almost, to say- best friend. He was a grown man, he didn't need best friends, like some school boy, but the thought passed anyway. Besides, Dallas was his boss, he doubted that Dallas would have much connection to him otherwise. \n\nHe let out a small huff of laughter, \"Yeah.. That was terrible to watch.\" He said shaking hos head. \"Glad you got your leg intact and all, you might need that.\" He said as he took a sip of his water. \n\nAs the other went on about his sister, he nodded along. He understood it, Addie was pregnant, he would be worried about Joanna too, if it were him. Hell, he already was. The idea of never coming home, her knowing the moment he didn't return what had happened to him made shivers run up his spine. \n\n\"Course',\" He said with a nod. \"Ain't nothin' gonna happen to you Dallas, You're a good shot, strong guy, but if it does, God Forbid.. I will make sure she's taken care of. I promise.\" He said as he placed a hand on Dallas' arm for a moment, looking at him before glancing back down at his cup. \n\n\"I'd hope you'd do the same for Joanna, you're my closest friend after all.\" He said with a nod. That sounded remarkably less cheesey, saying closest as opposed to *Best* Friend."
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "\"Ain't like we even know how many there are, neither,\" He said. \"There could be dozens out there in the woods, we just ain't know about em yet.\" The thought made his stomach turn. \n\n\"Course I would do the same for Joanna.\" He assured JD, giving a solemn nod. While he wasn't close with her by any stretch, he knew her and would hope she would be able to stay with them if the need arose. He could treat her well and kindly. \n\nWhen JD's hand was on his arm, he felt like his palms were sweaty. The warm contact, his eyes flickering up and meeting his— \n\nHis mind went to *Dreail's words* And he snapped back to reality, a sick coil in his stomach as he ripped his eyes away and pulled his arm slowly away, busying himself with grasping the gun and continuing to clean it. He didn't need to be unpacking all that nonsense. Not right now. Probably never. \n\n\"Yer my closest friend too,\" He said to him. \"Bout the only one I got 'sides Max, I guess, but...\" \n\nBut Max and Dallas were friends in a very different way. He thought the other was definitely taking pity on him for being kind of pathetically bad at cooking and basic human things like that— charity work. Then again, wasn't JD his friend because he paid him? \n\n\"We just been friends so long, yknow, yer basically almost family.\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He nodded, \"That's what I'm 'fraid of too. I mean, damn.. There's a few we know about but how do we know there's not more lurkin? Just gon' have to hunt them down one by one, huh?\" He asked arching a brow. \"Figure out how many there are on our own.\" \n\nHe was glad to know that Dallas would do the same for Joanna, though he had really not had a doubt in his mind. His throughts were interrupted when Dallas pulled his arm away, and JD cleared his throat. That had been wrong to do it, and he wasn't completely sure why he had felt the need to do it in the first place because he knew that well.. It was a dangerous territory to be slipping into, intentional or not. \n\nHe closed his fist as the arm was pulled away and moved both of his arms closer to him, resting in front of his glass, and toying with it between his hands, trying to force some words out. \n\nHe cleared his throat again and nodded, \"Yeah, I agree.. I mean, you go, and I'm kinda shit outta luck. 'Bout the only person I see these days.\" He paused for a moment as he shook his head, not wanting to come off like he was just *Stuck* With the other when that was not the case. \n\n\"I mean.. It's by choice though, I really like your company. I just don't like.. Other's.. As much as yours so.\" He nodded and took a sip. \"So I am uh.. Glad we are uh.. Both very close.. To each other.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "There was a long pause where he was focusing on cleaning the gun. He had to think everything over, had to deliberate carefully... On exactly what he wanted to say. \n\n\"I'm glad too,\" He said after a second. \"Prolly my best friend, JD. Think you understand my soul.\" He cleared his throat. \"I ain't gotta make conversation none. Just sit here in the quiet...\" He chewed his cheek a little as he thought. \"It's nice. I ain't never had a friend like you before I came here.\" \n\nHe bounced his leg a little. \"Yer a good man, JD.\" His eyes flickered over to him. \"I'm grateful I get to be yer friend.\" \n\nIt was a bit mushy, perhaps, but he wanted him to know... He genuinely appreciated his friendship. \"And we are gonna get those Fuckin' werewolves and blast em to hell. Together.\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "As the other continued, JD felt himself relax and his shoulders slouched a bit. That was good to hear, that Dallas felt the exact same way he did, well, about the friend matter anyway. He nodded, \"I feel the same.. I enjoy.. Just bein' around you. Ain't got that with a whole lot of people.. So you're mine too.. Glad I could meet ya, glad you're here.. Now.. Maybe that's a bit selfish considering all that's goin' on but.. I am.\" \n\nHe looked up at him as he spoke again, and he nodded. \"Thank you.. I am too. Ain't no one I'd rather be blastin werewolves with.\" He said with a small grin, though his cheeks were painted pink. \n\n\"I like ta' think of us as a team, you know? I mean not just.. At work but like uh..\" He took a deep breath, \"I mean.. I think that you know.. If I'm in a situation where.. I need a teammate, you're always my first choice so..\" He took in a deep breath. \n\n\"Maybe I'm gettin' a little bit too sappy there. But..\" He shook his head and took a sip of his water. \"I've never been very good with words.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "He couldn't help but chuckle just a little bit. They were very similar, weren't they? A little awkward, a little... Well, rough around the edges in their own ways. JD was softer than him but just as rugged in others. They both liked hunting and fishing and working with their hands. They were incredibly similar in those regards— and that's what Dallas liked. They always had something to talk about if they wanted to, but both seemed completely fine with sitting in complete and utter silence for hours if they needed to. And when JD felt the need, he could fill the gaps and asked very little of Dallas in response. He felt comfortable around him. \n\n\"Helluva lot better than me,\" He pointed out to him. He glanced over at him as they sat there, and he cleared his throat a moment before he shifted towards him slightly. \"You know I ain't got a lot of friends,\" He said after a minute. \"So the ones I got... Are like family to me,\" He said. He left it at that. JD was more than a friend. He wouldn't exactly call him a brother either. It was just... Different."
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He felt a small smile spread across his face and he nodded, \"I know what ya' mean..\" He said as he ran a hand through his hair. \"You know.. When I moved here..\" He said as he leaned back a bit. \"I didn't much.. Expect to meet mucha' anyone.\" He said as he thought for a moment on how to formulate what he was trying to say. \n\n\"Me and Joanna, we ain't never really know most anyone cept' each other and our ma and pa, so.. Kinda always figured it would be that way.\" He said as he glanced over at him, \"And I didn't mind it so much.. You know, once we got away from our parents, it was nice, just us but..\" He took in a deep breath. \n\n\"Excuse my.. Lack of better words but uh meetin' you.. Made me realize I was missin' something. Made me realize there is more ta life and uh.. I guess I just really appreciate that Dallas.. I really appreciate what you.. Have done.. For my life.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "There was something odd happening in him that didn't come around all that often. It had been happening more often as of late, and he never knew *Why*. Maybe he needed to go to the doctor, cuz his chest was hurtin' him something fierce. Like a tightness, like he'd been dunked in the icy lake and it was gripping him like a vice. He cleared his throat in hopes of dislodging the feeling, to no avail. \n\n\"Likewise,\" He said, because he couldn't quite formulate something more articulate than that. He bit the inside of his cheek and glanced across at JD. \"You been a good companion. Always reliable to work, too.\" He shifted in his seat a little and angled himself to face JD more. \n\n\"You know... I ain't ever asked what JD stands for,\" He realized after a moment. \"Even though we been... Friends for a real long time now.\" He raised an eyebrow."
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "As the other spoke, he grinned a bit and glanced around the room, basically everywhere but the other's face. The feelings he got around Dallas were ones that he knew, and knew well, but one's that so far he had done a good job to ignore. He knew that was the case yet again. He couldn't share them because well.. \n\nHis friendship with Dallas was worth more than anything those feelings could provide. \n\n\"I try.. I like the job a lot. Makes me feel like I'm doin' something..\" He said as he leaned back. \n\nAs the other brought up his name, he let out a small groan though his face was painted with a smile. \"Gosh.. I uh.. Well..\" He ran a hand over his face. \"Don't tell this to many people because it's uh.. Pretty.. Embarassing but uh..\" \n\nHe rolled his shoulders back, \"My dad was uh.. He was real weird, you know.. Kinda off and what not and uh.. He thought I was gonna be a prophet and uh.. So he named me.. Uh.. Jesus.. Jesus David.\" He said cringing at his words. \n\n\"It's ridiculous I know but.. It's mine.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "Dallas couldn't quite believe what JD told him— it almost made him wanna laugh. In fact— he had to cover his mouth to hold in a surprised laugh. \"I'm sorry,\" He said quickly. \"I ain't mean to laugh, it's just... I ain't really thought that'd be in. I thought, yknow, Jacob or... John, James even. Not... Jesus David.\" He dropped his hand, cracked a grin and shook his head. \n\n\"I get why you prefer yer nickname. But... It's unique, I'll give ya that.\" He leaned forward and clapped him on the shoulder. \"I won't tell nobody,\" He promised him. \n\nJD was interesting. He had so much about him that he didn't know. He found himself really wanting to know more. \"Anyhow. Ya do a good job,\" Dallas said, not wanting to think about all the roiling emotions in his belly. \"Don't know what I'd do without ya at the yard. Prolly be swimmin' in work,\" He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck before exhaling."
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He rolled his eyes, and shook his head. \"No it's ah.. It's alright, I gotta say I would laugh to if someone sat across from me and told me their name was Jesus.\" He said as he glanced over at him and took in a deep breath. \n\n\"If anyone else ever asks.. I will probably just tell them it's John David, but uh.. You can know the truth I spose'.\" He said with a nod. \"I appreciate the discretion. Ain't something I like to walk around tellin' people.\" He said as he took a sip of his water. \n\nHe shrugged his shoulders as the other went on about how he was good to have around at work and he shrugged his shoulders, \"Well, it's good work, I like the work.. And I like workin with you so uh.. Works out for me,..\" He said running a hand through his hair. \"You make it real easy to work for you. Good company and good work..\" He said as he looked over at him."
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "Thankfully, Dallas usually didn't have to worry about maintaining steady conversation with JD. That's what he liked about him so much. Things could be so pleasant between them, and he felt no pressure to formulate fake conversations or to become nervous over things like that. He heaved a sigh and fell into silence a moment, glancing to the window and out into the yard. The leaves on the ground, the chill that came through the window... It was fall, alright. He'd have to start chopping more firewood to bring around to the locals. \n\nHe glanced to JD and rested an elbow on the table. \"You gonna help me deliver firewood to folks again this winter?\" He asked him, eyebrow raised. \"You know I'll pay ya.\" He gave him a nod. \"Ain't askin' you t'work for free.\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "As they sat there, JD felt a sense of peace about him. He liked their silent comfort, the fact that he felt never more himself than he was there with the other. When Dallas finally spoke again, he arched his brows and nodded. \n\n\"Course, I'd do it even if you were.\" He said with a snicker. \"Not much I wouldn't do if ya just asked.\" He said giving the other a nudge before he took another sip of his water. \n\n\"I can help ya chop it too, if ya need. Might help get it done faster, yeah?\" He asked as he leaned back, relaxing a bit into the chair."
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "What JD said caught him off guard a moment. He trusted Dallas that much to not steer him wrong? That he'd just about blindly go and do whatever Dallas asked of him, simply because he asked? \n\n\"Yer a good friend, JD,\" He said to him after a second and cleared his throat. \"Couldn't ask for a better one, actually.\" He clapped the man on his knee before leaning back again. He hefted himself up out of his seat and stretched, his back cracking as he moved. \"I sit still too long and it feels like my bones wanna lock up on me,\" He told him. \"You wanna come on our back and help me move some of that firewood inside?\" He asked JD, going to the door. \"Welcome to take some home yourself, too, if you're wanting it. I bet you and Joanna are cold as all get out in that little house of yours.\" He raised his eyebrows. \n\n\"How's she doin', anyhow?\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He smiled when the other called him a good friend, but didn't say anything. Dallas knew he cared about him, and while he could go back and fourth all day with the other, having a competition for who could call the other a good friend most.. He decided against it. \n\nHe shrugged his shoulders and nodded at the question with a grin, \"Sure do.. That would be good. It is startin' ta be real cold.. I swear, seems like the walls are made a' ice sometimes in there.\" He said as he followed him out. \n\nHe shrugged his shoulders, \"Doin' better than when we first moved here I mean..\" He took in a deep breath. \"Life back home was just.. It was somethin', very uh.. Different. Now bein' here, bein' around other people it..\" He took in a deep breath and made a tsk noise. \"It takes some gettin' used ta.\""
}
] | 239 | 4,734 |
249 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "lukeee1851",
"message": "Over the last couple weeks, JD had not been doing well. Between nightmares and waking ones, all he could think about was werewolves. On one hand, he still felt like a murderer for killing Noah, but on the other hand he had started having these.. Nightmares. Ones where Noah came after him, but not just him, Joanna, Dallas, Addie. \n\nIt always made him feel sick to his stomach and on more than one occasion, he found himself dragging himself out of bed in the early hours to get a look at Joanna, just to make sure she was still there. \n\nThis time however, it was especially bad. A slaughter had taken place before him in his dreams, and one that he had done nothing to stop. He had just stood there. \n\nHe woke up, and checked on his sister, and logically that should be enough but it wasn't. He looked at the clock, 5 am. Okay, so it wasn't that early. He grabbed his keys and made his way out to the Sinclair cabin, and anxiously up the steps, knocking loudly on the door. \n\nHe was shaking with anticpation, and though it did not make much sens, he was convinced that this time it would be true, and no one would answer that door. \n\nHe knocked again."
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "It wasn't like Dallas hadn't had those same damn dreams; ones where werewolves ripped his loved ones apart. Now with baby Wayne, it was even worse. Sometimes, he even offered to watch the baby at night under the guise of letting Addie get some rest, just so he could watch over the baby. Thankfully, those nightmares came and went, and he didn't get em every single night anymore. And thankfully, by the time 5 am rolled around, Dallas was up for work anyhow. He didn't hear the first knock quite clearly. The second knock came, and the door was wrenched open by Addie, with a baby on her breast and a twitch in her eye. \n\n\"Dallas!\" She shouted over her shoulder. \"It's JD!\" She glared at the boy on their porch and stalked away, quickly replaced by the elder Sinclair as he leaned in the door. \n\nHe was about to ask him about work, when he could see how badly JD was shaking. \"...You alright?\" He asked him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. \"Whatsa matter, turning up here at the crack of dawn?\" \n\nThere was fear in JD's eyes. He could see how scared he was; he didn't like that. Not one bit. \"Yer alright, JD,\" He said softly. \"Ain't nothin' here, yer safe.\" He told him calmly. \"You wantin' to come in?\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "As Addie opened the door, looking irritated but safe, and not panicked, he figured she was okay, which was good, so was her baby in her arms, and so was Dallas. He nodded to her, \"I'm sorry Addie, really am..\" He said clearing his throat. \n\nAs Dallas came to the door, JD cleared his throat, looking up at the other. \"I uh..\" He started but was a bit unsure about where to go with this. He really had not thought this through, standing here at this ridiculous time and banging on his door just because he had a bad dream. \n\n\"I uh well..\" He took a deep breath, \"It's stupid, I uh.. Had a dream, got real scared that ah.. It was true.\" He said shaking his head. \"I don't know what I was thinkin', Guess I wasn't. Got right up, checked on Joanna then rushed over here like a God damn maniac.\" He said clearing his throat. \n\n\"I didn't mean to ah.. Cause.. Any trouble.\" He said, though his shaking had calmed down his eyes remained the same fearful but tired look in them. \"Yeah uh.. Just for a moment, if ya don't mind..\" He said as he stepped in. \n\n\"I uh.. You uh.. I had a dream about.. The werewolves and you and Addie and Joanna well..\" He cleared his throat, \"Don't matter now, ain't true.\" He said as he crossed his arms over his chest. \n\n\"Like I said, I'm sorry, I don't know what the hell I was thinkin' about.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "As JD came inside, explaining himself and all, Dallas listened and nodded. He gestured for him to take a seat and got him some coffee, pouring it for him and having a seat with his own. \n\n\"Don't you worry none,\" He assured him. \"Addie and I were both already awake, she's just... Yknow how she is in the mornin'.\" He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of Addie's room. \"We're all good round here, JD, you now if somethin' happened, I'd blast a hole in them damn wolves.\" \n\nIn a rare moment, Dallas put his hand on JD's for just a moment before he retracted it. \"...'sides, not a full moon,\" He reminded him. \"How bout this, to ease yer mind.\" \n\nHe stood up and walked to a hook on the wall, taking down a string with a key on it. He held it out to JD, an eyebrow raised. \"...'stead of banging down our door, just let yerself in and come on and wake me up if ya need me.\" He told him, tilting his head.\n\nDallas worried about JD a lot. Ever since the sheriff, things had been hard for him. Didn't seem like he slept as much, always seemed a little lost in his thoughts and distracted. \"Yknow,\" He mumbled. \"Maybe we oughta... Maybe we oughta try and stick together. Numbers, you know?\" He raised an eyebrow. \"You know what I mean?\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He nodded, \"I wouldn't be too happy if I found myself at my door this early,\" He said with a small smile, \"Can't blame her there..\" He said running a hand through his hair. \n\nHe knew Dallas was tough, and he could take care of himself, and he could take care of Addie, but it didn't mean that he still didn't worry, with these.. Nightmares. He couldn't help it, they were far too important to him to lose. \"I know, hard to remember what day it is sometimes.. Woke up Joanna too to check on her, she wasn't too happy about it either.\" He said in a sort of mumble. \n\nAs Dallas returned to him, he looked up at him. \"Really?\" He asked with an arched brow. \"Yer sure?\" He asked as he took the key and looked down at it for a moment before he slipped the key around his neck. \n\n\"I'll try to use it sparingly.. Last thing I wanna do is become a burden to y'all..\" He said as he glanced at him and then back down at his lap, clearing his throat. At the suggestion, he arched a brow. \n\n\"I.. I'm not sure.. You mean we look after each other, right? Because I agree I mean..\" He nodded, \"We're livin' in hard times..\" He said as he ran a hand through his hair. \"I can get you a key ta mine too, if you want it.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "\"No, I mean...\" He cleared his throat again and shifted in his seat. He wasn't sure how to phrase things at times, and often came up empty handed at being verbose in any way. \n\n\"I was thinkin' that you and Joanna could come on and live with us,\" He suggested to him. \"Addie and Joanna could share a room and you and me would take mine,\" He said. \n\n\"If we stayed all together like that, I bet we'd all feel helluva lot safer.\" He cleared his throat and his eyes shifted from JD to the wall and then back. \n\n\"How's that sound t' you?\" Dallas cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. \"I figure Addie and Joanna might enjoy havin' another lady to talk to, yknow? And I'll stay outta yer business if ya want me t'...\" He trailed off and shrugged a shoulder. \n\n\"But only if you reckon it's a good idea.\" He said finally, folding his arms. \"Otherwise, you just hold onto that key.\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "As Dallas explained what he meant, JD listened. He felt his chest tighten at the idea, for reasons he was aware of but tried his best to ignore. Sure, he wanted to, of course he did. \n\nHe opened his mouth to answer, but decided to let himself have another moment to think of how to say yes. It shouldn't be this hard to say yes to something you want to do but... It was. \n\nHe knew that Dallas was a good friend, and he knew that was all he ever would be but even still, he couldn't help but feel a little better, not just safer, but... Happier that he was able to spend more time with his friend, and with Addie too. Plus he figured Joanna would be happier here, with more company than their quiet brothers. \n\n\"I do.. I do think it's a good idea..\" He said clearing his throat. \"I would be more than happy to move us in here.. If you don't think it would be a bother..\"\n\nHe took in a deep breath, \"You don't need to be stayin' out of my business.. Ain't no part of my life you ain't apart of.. Yer my boss and my best friend, so.. Ain't nothing bout me you can't know..\" He said with a nervous laugh. It was mostly true. \n\n\"If yer sure, then I would be more than happy to live with ya..\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "He didn't quite understand the strange stirring in his chest and why his cheeks felt so hot all of a sudden, but he cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter, clapping JD on the shoulder. \n\n\"That settles that then,\" He said, squeezing his shoulder. \"Guess I'll be movin' y'all in here.\" He knew he'd personally feel better for having the Monroes closer; he wouldn't lie and say he hadn't had similar nightmares to the ones JD was having. \n\nHe'd always been reluctant to call JD a friend— he figured he'd only stuck around because Dallas paid him. But he knew better now; JD wasn't just a friend. He was family. But not his brother, nor his cousin or none of that. No, he couldn't help but to feel something else entirely for him, and it scared him. But he would keep it to himself how happy he was on the inside to have JD closer. Now wasnt the time for all that— admittedly, he wasn't sure there would ever be a time for that. \n\n\"And Joanna won't mind sharing a room with Addie and Wayne?\" He asked him. \"I know it ain't the best but maybe I can go on and build an addition on when it's warmer, give her some extra space...\" He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck."
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "JD nodded and smiled a bit, \"I appreciate ya Dallas.. Don't know what I'd be doin' without ya..\" He said as he looked up at the other. Dallas really was a great friend and a great guy in general. He took in a deep breath as he felt his shoulders relax, even just a little. He would always know they were okay, which was a good start. \n\nHe shook his head, \"I'll talk ta' her but I highly doubt it.. She is just as shook up as everyone else is round here.. She likes Addie.. She could use a friend. She's like me in that way.. Ain't talking to much anyone. She spends most her time readin' though..\" He said with a shrug of his shoulders. \n\n\"She's always been smart like that, self taught and everythin'.. I ain't never got the hang of it but she picked it up real easy.\" He said as he took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. \n\n\"We won't get in yer way none though.. Promise ya that.. Won't even hear us less ya want to.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "He gave JD a look and dropped his hand off his shoulder. \"We wanna hear from ya, promise,\" He told him, clearing his throat a little bit. \"But don't you worry— I ain't never learned to read much. Never was good at all that, but Addie just does it all natural.\" He shook his head. \n\n\"You reckon it's cuz they're girls?\" He asked curiously, scratching his head a little. \"Dont matter. Point is... I ain't just invitin' you in for fun. Yer... My best friend too, JD,\" He felt his ears turn red just saying it out loud. \"So I want ya here. Both of ya.\" \n\nHis hands felt so sweaty. God, he wish he knew how to express himself better, but he never knew how to. \n\n\"You gonna need help packin'?\" He asked. \"I got extra time.\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He nodded, \"I was boutta say that.. Think girls might just be smarter.. Don't matter though.. Yer right about that.\" He said as he looked at the other and nodded again. \"Thank ya, Dallas.. Yer mine too, you know that..\" He said and even as he spoke, his mouth felt dry. \n\nDallas looked as nervous as JD felt and it made him wonder what the other was thinking. It made him wonder why he was so nervous. He supposed it was a nerve wracking thing to ask, but e wasn't sure *Why* It was so nerve wracking to ask. \n\n\"Uh..\" He shrugged, \"I ain't got much to pack really.. Don't got much stuff, most the stuff I got is furniture, stuff that can just stay..\" He said with a nod. \"But I ain't never gonna turn down yer company while I'm doin' something..\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "Dallas straightened himself up a little, shoulders back as he realized he could take on a task that he was very good at. \"We can take some if it, yknow I can grab whatever we gotta get,\" He told him. \"Bed frames 'n all...\" He glanced to JD and cleared his throat. \n\n\"...'sides, can't have you doin' it all on yer own. Tell Joanna she can come on and stay in Addie's room, then we can go on together and clean out yers.\" \n\nHe tapped his knuckles idly on the table. \"It's gonna be alright,\" He told him quietly. \"I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to Joanna. Swear on my life.\" He told him seriously. \"And I ain't gonna let nothin happen to you neither.\""
},
{
"author": "JD Monroe",
"message": "He took in a deep breath, and nodded. He would let Dallas help him. He should, Dallas was his friend, his closest friend. He ran a hand through his hair, it was going to be okay. As terrifying as everything was, he had an inclination towards believing him. \n\n\"Yeah.. Thank you..\" He said as he looked down at the table and then back to Dallas as he said he wasn't going to let anything happen to Joanna or him. JD had never really felt protected like this. Joanna looked out for him back home, just like he looked out for her, but in all honesty, neither one of them had been able to save one another from anything. \n\nHe believed Dallas though, he did. There was a pause for a moment, where he felt like he might cry, but he pushed that away, instead doing something that was just as out of character, and throwing his arms around Dallas in a hug. \"Thank you, Dallas.. I'll make it up to ya, I promise.\""
},
{
"author": "Dallas Sinclair",
"message": "It wasn't something he was used to; the only person who'd hugged him was his mother, and that was different. This was— JD was just something entirely different. He didn't know how to describe it, and he wasn't sure he'd like to figure it out right now. \n\nHis arm came around JD and clapped him on the back, momentarily squeezing him tight. Maybe it was nice to be held for just a second. Finding comfort during this time was not something he was familiar with, but feeling JD so securely holding onto him made him feel a whole lot better. \n\nHe exhaled and let go after a minute, when he felt maybe they'd been hugging too long to be innocent anymore. \"Ya don't gotta make it up t' me,\" He promised him. \"Stay alive, that's all I'm askin' of any of ya.\""
}
] | 250.5 | 3,486 |
802.777778 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Rhett was absolutely *Not* Ready for the swill that left Alma's lips. *Shucks!* That'd have her sleepin' curled up with her Bible for weeks. He laughed and laughed along with her. \n\nGlad they were in agreement of how nice it was to be neighbors, Rhett walked the rest of the way home with a sweet little smile on his lips. How cruel it was to feel such warmth, such joy, against a backdrop painted in blood– but none of that struck him now. The moonshine built an impenetrable shield around him, with Alma on his arm as a second line of defense. \n\nOnce the wind whipped up, Rhett's refute of Alma's claim died out in the frigid air. No way he wanted to get rid of her. On the contrary, he'd been warring with himself for the last ten minutes about how foolish he'd be to ask if she didn't want to settle into her bed in the big house just yet...\n\nImagine his surprise when she beelined for not his aunts' front door, but the shack. \n\nAnd didn't it swell his heart. \nAnd didn't their fingers lock so nicely together?\n\nThey crashed into his humble little house with the energy of a small blizzard, startling poor Spider off of her perch at the window where she'd watched them tumble in. Once the hairs on her back lay flat again, she rushed over to nudge at the pair's ankles, purring heartily. \n_ _\n\n\"What'dya say there, Spider Mae?\" It was a nickname reserved usually for the two of them (oh, the words exchanged between a man and his cat), but he let Alma in on it. Immediately Rhett knelt to get a fire going in the stove, the ash dancing in the backdraft of the chimney as he opened the hatch. \n\"Let's git you some warm back in those toes. 'N everywhere else.\" Rhett exclaimed, lighting roughly four matches and tossing them into a few wads of crumpled paper. He left the stove open so the growing fire could breathe, and turned to light a few oil lamps. \n\n\"I ain't gonna lie,\" He started, \"I was startin' ta think cider was a plan a the past.\" He said, fumbling a match and just picking another one out of the canister instead of collecting it up off the floor. He struck it, \"'N please, if your bed calls to ya, we kin take a rain check.\" Rhett felt the need to add a disclaimer, though Alma's departure was the last thing he wanted. \n\n\"First you gotta look at all I done in here, though. I was workin' hard on it yesterday.\" When Rhett turned back to her, lit lantern in hand, he was smiling proudly. The shack had been wanting for winter fortification, and he'd finally gotten around to the upgrades he'd spent the autumn planning. \n\nWhere the kitchen and sleeping quarters had been the only places with wood floors before, now the whole place was properly finished. No more cold dirt underfoot. The walls were plastered, mixed with hay for insulation, and even painted a deep earthy red brown color that looked as though Rhett'd just mixed up a thin wash of clay from the river bank. There were a couple of pieces of new furniture, including window seats in every sill for Spider, and an actual full-sized bed: the mattress made of excess hay left over from the walls. \n_ _\n\nAlma would have seen many of these projects in progress, but this was the first time she'd get to take in the whole sight of the place. It nearly looked like a proper home. \n\n\"Hank at the general store let me take out a loan a sorts, for all the supplies I needed ta finish. I'll have ta pick up some more jobs around town, but I figure with how good I'll be sleepin' on my new bed, I'll be fresher'n a daisy ta git all the extra work done.\" He paused, self conscious of how long he'd been talking, \"Looks awright, don't it?\" He asked, eager for her opinions. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Crashed was an excellent word for it. Alma crashed against his wall, her back pressed tight to it so he could dive into the shack's warmth behind her. She felt her heart crashing around in her ribcage as she laughed and laughed, her head tilted tipsily to the side. Emotion swelled and crashed around her as she heard him address Spider with such sweet— \n\nThe emotion was not something she dared to name. If she called it something, it would be alive and far too big to swallow whole. It would take the sharpest dinner knife she had and, even then, a hatchet might do a better job of it. She would need to hack away at it and violently pull it apart into chewy chunks. But first she'd have to kill it. No, first she'd have to catch it. And my, how it ran a marathon in her chest at the way his lips curled into a smile just at the sight of his cat. \n\nAlma sank to her knees and scooped Spider up. The cat purred so loud that she swore she could hear it over the squeak of the woodstove hatch. \"Evenin', Spider Mae,\" She murmured, testing the nickname with reverence as she scratched the small creature's cheek. \"Thank you, Rhett. Look there, Spider. Your Papa's gonna make us a fire to warm our toes by.\" Alma was a dog person at the end of the day, but she'd learned how to be gentle with Spider. She pressed a series of kisses to the top of her head till Rhett's moving away from the stove drove Spider to leap from Alma's arms and follow him around the shack.\n\n_ _\nWith her arms now free, Alma took the opportunity to peel her boots and socks off. The snow had soaked them through - she really must've been stumbling! - and she draped her socks over her boots to dry before tending to her outermost layers. \"A plan'a the past? N' go back on a promise I been talkin' bout all night? Bed kin wait when honor's on the line!\" She uncoiled her scarf and set it along with her jacket over the back of a chair. It most certainly wasn't an excuse to linger just a moment longer with him. Certainly not. \n\nHis prompting had her finally register just what she would've noticed far earlier had she been sober. Her feet were on warm wood, not freezing dirt. As her gaze lifted, she caught the walls, the furniture, and the windows. She made a slow circle around the space, but she took great care not to look too closely at his sleeping quarters lest her intents be misunderstood. Alma made a soft hum of appreciation, running her fingers lightly over the earthen walls as she came back to his side. \n\n\"Lord, has it really been so long since I stepped in here last? I need'ta visit you more often.\" She would regret that sentence when she was sober.\n\n_ _ \n\"It looks more than alright, Rhett,\" She said, her voice low and quiet with awe. \"It looks like a home.\" And it did. Her feet slid easy across his floors as she spun another small circle, her hand on the back of her neck as if her first inspection simply hadn't been believable. \"I knew you did work on houses n' all, but I ain't never—... I didn't know you had this kind of talent. It's wonderful! Truly!\" She took a wandering step towards the wall next to the woodstove. \"Why, I can just see it all finished up already. A little painting here. And here!\" She took two quicker steps back towards the front door. \"A sweet little bookshelf. That way, you kin take a book out to read on the front porch when the weather's nice again! And here!\"\n\nThe moonshine decided to remind Alma of just the state she was in. One foot got in the way of the other and she stumbled into his side. There was that crashing again. Not into him, but in her ribcage. Even as she laughed her clumsiness off and weakly attempted to peel herself away from him, she felt it coursing through her veins, begging her to stay glued to him. The drinking, the dancing, the flicker of lanternlight: they all seemed to conspire against her will to keep him at arm's length. And they were certainly winning."
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "A man could get used to this: building a fire, his two gals looking on, all bellies and hearts warm. Rhett felt like a king as he lost himself in lighting the stove, then the lamps, his drunken mind finding poetry and more in the shifting fluid dynamics of the flames. As light and heat transformed the shack, Rhett didn't hold back in his staring at Alma. He sat, propped up against the kitchen table, watching her explore his handiwork. \n\n\"You do need to visit more often, I know the walk is long 'n all, but shoot.\" He laughed, with his arms crossed over his chest and an embarrassingly plain display of overt admiration in his gaze, obviously drunk on more than just liquor. He saw starlight branching from the tips of her fingers as she swept the room, pointing out the homes of future decorations. Eager to receive her unfolding vision, Rhett stood up straight with just his palm on the table top to keep his balance. His eyes widened as Alma stumbled. \n\nShe stuck to him in slow motion, the twisting of her disobedient feet taking on a grace all its own. Relenting to a song that played in silence for the both of them, the melody plucked from gusts of wind and creaks in the floor, Rhett held her to himself as she half-fell, half-reached. As if they were back on the pallets at the barn before the band, one arm circled her waist (comfortably, now, as if it'd found a home there a hundred times before), and the other hand held hers. \n\n\"And here?\" He prompted, once they'd settled in their new embrace, \"You just tryin' ta tell me you ain't done dancin', quite yet?\" They were close enough to have their hearts by one another, exchanging alcoholic breaths in the inches between their noses, their mouths. \n_ _\n\n*Kiss her,* Said the moonshine. \n*Spin her! Make her laugh!* Said his pounding, nervous pulse. \n*Let her go,* Said the deep pit of his stomach, where Rhett knew they might be sober enough to be embarrassed about this closeness in just a couple of hours. \n\nThose voices made him dizzy. He grounded himself with the sound of his own voice. \n\"I ain't got no records to play, 'n no victrola ta play 'em on if I did.\" He apologized, his voice low and thick, his body beginning to slowly sway. \n\"You say a song. 'N if we both know it, we'll think it real hard at the same time.\" His eyes shined, and unconsciously, this thumb had begun to smooth a slow circuit back and forth across the back of her hand, like he was already hearing some distant rhythm. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Alma hadn't noticed the way Rhett's arm had looped around her till she tried to take a step back from him, the beginning of an apology on her lips. In the still-cool air of his ~~shack~~ home, the warmth of his arm and chest seeped through her layers and stole what little fight she had left in her. His other hand slid back into hers, and she was struck again by the callouses of his palm. If she were a braver woman, she would explore every curve of that palm with her fingers. Draw it close to her chest and press a kiss to his skin. An acknowledgement of all he'd done. \n\nBut she wasn't a brave woman. She was a coward who blushed despite the fact that he'd already held her just like this less than an hour ago. A coward who couldn't bear to look him in the eyes now that there was no fiddler stompin' his boots or sparkles of shot glasses being tossed back with wild abandon. It was just them (and Spider, who was busy scoping out a warm spot by the woodstove).\n\n\"*And here?*\"\n\nOh, they had been speaking, hadn't they? \n\n\"N-No. A-A vase,\" She stammered. \"Filled with fresh wildflowers every week.\" The words came out quick and nervous. She kicked herself the second she realized she may have denied him something he wanted. \"B-But, we k-kin. If'in you ain't done dancin' yet, neither.\" She mumbled her way through that last word and silently wished she had another shot of shine. She longed for something - anything - to hide behind to shield herself from the weight of his gaze. She'd never had anybody look at her like that. It was... Its own kind of dizzying. The kind of look a girl could drown herself in if she dared to jump. The moonshine tied cinderblocks to her feet, and she knew she could stumble right over the edge if she met his eyes. Right into freefall. Right into that thing she dared not name. Right into that thing that sobriety would've had her running out his door from.\n\n_ _\nInstead, she basked in his bodyheat, the crackle of the fire in his wood stove, and the awe of the home he'd built with his own two hands as the wind kicked up outside. The thought of stepping outdoors was unbearable compared to this rare pocket of safety Alma found herself in. There were no beasts testing at the wooden boards or panicked whispers to be had here. Just the racing of her heartbeat and the warmth of his skin. Her free hand slid from from where it'd been pinned between their chests so she could hug him closer, but her eyes stayed locked on the barely visible woodgrain of the table behind him. \n\n\"I... Don't know no records,\" She confessed, instinctively swaying with him. \"I seen a victrola once, but never heard one play.\" She breathed in deep and let out a long sigh, letting herself sink against him. The fingers that had been nervously squeezing his hand calmed as his thumb smoothed along her skin. It was this comfort that allowed her to make her next confession. \"I ain't ever heard anythin' other than what folks sing or play 'round here. I... Ain't never left home.\" \n\nThere it was out in the open. He'd escaped and she'd stayed pinned beneath obligations to her family and the town. The furthest she'd ever gotten was that night in Shady's truck— No. She didn't want to think about that. \n\n\"M'sorry. Maybe... Maybe you kin hum us somethin'?\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "\"*A vaaaase.*\" He nodded, closing his eyes to picture it, still swaying, idly wondering where one came upon a *Vase* For sale. The version of himself from four years ago would have been green with envy to hear the simple, pleasant thoughts that blanketed him in this moment. Maybe he'd've be comforted to know that he'd escaped to a happier time. Unthinking, Rhett snorted out a puff of laughter in realizing he was valuing his current situation of being hunted by werewolves over his past with Constance. As sick as it was, he'd still choose here and now over then and there, and it wasn't just because of how the moonshine blurred out the context of where he stood and what the last few months'd wrought. \n\nRhett was able to play off his laugh as a response to Alma shifting against him; a small sound of giddy contentment, which was surely not out of place. He noticed her swaying. It almost made him laugh again. He wasn't sure he'd ever been so content. \n\n\"Leavin' home's overrated.\" He assured her, tucking his past into the brevity of that sentence for now, silently pleading that Alma would leave it there where he buried it. Some day he'd tell her all she wanted to know, but tonight was a sanctuary. \n\nIn that unmentionable past, Rhett had become quite fond of recorded music. It was one of the only things he found himself missing, or maybe more accurately, that he found himself wishing he could share with the folks at home. He'd heard it on the radio (the closest thing to something supernatural that he'd experienced outside the bounds of Briar Ridge) and on phonographs. There were plenty of bands in speakeasies that played popular songs like he'd never heard. Once, he'd even gotten to see a small orchestra perform on the pier of some beach town he'd been just a little too drunk to remember properly. He recalled the clarinet, though: how it soared and wailed above the other sounds. With closed eyes, you might think it was kind of like a fiddle you blew air into. \n_ _\n\nHe thought of all the songs he'd heard, and narrowed it down into songs he could remember. There were a couple of records that friends of Connie's had owned and played on repeat. Rhett had found a record one time, mistakenly tossed out with the garbage. Going through trash was something he'd never been above, especially with all of Constance's pressure to make money any way they could. He usually sold everything he found that was maybe worth a penny or two. The record certainly qualified, but he kept it instead, bringing it over to their friend's apartment next time they went, to see if it would play through the scratches. The song became a favorite among the group and they listened often, despite the skips. \n\n\"Sure, I kin probably do that, let's see,\" He bought time, thinking of the tune and trying to return the lyrics to mind. The prospect of singing wasn't the cause for his hesitation, but his spotty memory was. \n\nHe began to hum, hoping the words might come. If they didn't, that was okay. The sound was already helping to tint the room, giving their bodies direction. \n\nAt the chorus, he surprised himself by coming up with the lyrics, like they'd been packed away in some seed dormant at the back of his mind, just needing a peek of sunlight and, well, something to drink. *Ahem.*\n\nRhett's singing voice was nothing to write home about, but it was easy and unforced, and generally on key. He'd grown up singing with his aunts whenever their fancy struck, and it struck often. He'd never been embarrassed, or thought singing (or dancing) was something you didn't share. On the contrary: it was a unique expression best enjoyed in the company of others. \n_ _\n\nHe struggled with the higher notes, the sound of a smile overtaking his song when he cracked. He got the key confused at first, but found it on the second line. Some phrases, he forgot to breathe enough to sustain the notes as long as they should've been. All in all, a resoundingly amateur performance, but it was all that the humble moment demanded. The muffled taps in time of their socked feet provided enough percussion to almost envision the richness of a recording instead of Rhett's airy rendition– that is, provided their collective intoxication was forceful enough to suspend this delusion. \n\n\"I'm jealous of the moon that shines above\nBecause it smiles upon the one I love\nI'm jealous of the birds up in the trees\nThey're always singing sweet melodies\n\nI'm jealous of the pretty flowers too\nI miss the kiss they always get from you\nI'm jealous of the tick-tock on the shelf\nI'm even getting jealous of myself.\"\n\nHe hummed what he remembered of the ending violin lines and, at last, released the hold he'd kept on Alma. \n\"Your own personal victrola, how d'ya like that?\" He laughed, his voice maintaining the hushed, gentle quality of song. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Brair Ridge, like many Appalachian towns, was chock full of folks who knew how to play an instrument passed down from their pappy or sing while they worked. Alma'd heard all kinds and colors of voices growin' up, but she was used to what folks knew in their blood around here (one day in the distant future it'd be identified as *Bluegrass*). Songs about workin' hard or lovin' hard. Songs about Jesus and washin' in the river. \n\nShe had never heard anythin' like what Rhett was singin'. \n\nHis performance didn't bother her in the slightest. His was certainly far from the worst voice she'd ever heard, and she grinned along with him when his voice cracked and wavered on higher notes. He was tryin'. And he was doin' a damn good job of tryin' in her book. Better than she could, that was for sure. He kept the beat up just fine, which was all that really mattered to her clumsy feet, but this didn't seem like the kind of song that you spun a girl to. She was grateful for that. \n\nNo, this seemed like the kind of song you serenaded a girl with like how her Papa'd done to her Mama. It was gentle n' proper n' nice... Although Alma wasn't quite accustomed to how *Clean* It sounded. It's lilting notes seemed just like the very same birds he was singin' bout bein' jealous of. That was the next thing she focused on was the words... And their implications. They were enough to make a girl blush, and blush she did!\n\n_ _\n*Love.* Had he really just sung that word? Surely he didn't mean nothin' by it. That thing that flew in ceaseless circles turned to batterin' against her ribcage despite the easy escape Rhett's touch provided her. How could a girl possibly be calm when the man she— *No*, she wouldn't name it. But how could she be calm? How was her heart not supposed to leap to her throat and her hands get sweaty and her–\n\nShe stumbled. That was nothin' new. She'd done it plenty of times already tonight. However, this time it seemed like the universe's way of gettin' her head out from under the waves she'd dove under. Rhett's hand was holdin' hers. Rhett was singin' to her. Dancin' with her. It was like somethin' out of one of Miss Lefevre's novels. The shine seemed to tell her to relax, so she did. Her forehead came down to rest on his shoulder (what she could reach of it, anyway), and she could feel the soft vibrations of his singin' where her cheek met the top of his chest. \n\nWhen he stopped, it was like wakin' up from a daze. She blinked up at him as he pulled away, instantly missing the comfort of his touch. The woodstove was burnin' just fine now. She didn't need his hand anymore, but she longed for its warmth regardless. Instead, she clasped her hands behind her back. \"Who could ever want a victrola when they have you?\" She replied, laughing shyly with him. \n\n\"Well, it looks like the stove might be warm enough for that cider now. Are your pots n' pans in the same place?\"\n\n_ _\nAlma fell into an easy routine of providin'. It gave her something to focus on instead of the meanin' of the song he'd just sung. Soon, the small space was filled with the comforting scent of apple, brown sugar, and cinnamon. She tried not to think of how much more sober she felt now, choosing instead to cling to the dredges of tipsiness for as long as she could. \n\n\"Glad I was able to get this off the Estep's this year,\" She murmured as she brought Rhett a piping hot mug. \"With how rough it's been for them, I'm just grateful I could send at least a little bit of money their way. They're good people. Ain't that right, Spider Mae?\" \n\nThe cat had been twisting herself around Alma's ankles all the while as if she was trying to be Alma's personal trip hazard. All that earned Spider, though, was Alma scooping her back up into her arms and pressing another round of kisses against her cheek. Apparently, that was all Spider had wanted with how loud she was purring in Alma's arms. Then, Spider started leanin' over Alma's shoulder towards Rhett's mug. \n\n\"Uh, uh, uh, Spider. No, ma'am,\" Alma murmured quietly as she carried her off and onto the bench nearest the woodstove. \"Somethin' tells me you won't like that very much. No, I don't think you'll be very happy with me when you burn your tongue, now will you? And then you'll tell your Papa that *Awful Miss Alma* Won't be allowed over at the little house no more. N' then who am I gonna give all my pies and cookies to, huh? It'd just be a cryin' shame, wouldn't it?\"\n\n_ _\nBy the time Alma realized just how long she'd been talking to Spider, Alma had already curled up with Spider in her lap as if she'd done it a thousand times. She blushed as if she'd just been caught with her hands in the cookie jar. \"S-Sorry. I know I shouldn't talk to her like she's a person,\" She muttered as she scratched Spider's ears. \"S'just... After the attack, me n' Dog got real close. I didn't even think it was possible, but... I still have a hard time sleepin' without him. I used to get these godawful nightmares, and Dog would just set his head on my chest n' just... Breathe with me. He'd let me talk to him till I could fall back asleep again. Guess I just... Got into the habit of thinkin' of 'em as somethin' more'n just animals, ya know?\" She tried to laugh a little, but it was strained. \"Sorry,\" She repeated. \"Guess it's kinda childish of me.\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "There was a buzzing and a lightness to Rhett's body. There was a warmth that came neither from the stove nor the moonshine. He felt as though the gentle vibrations of song still resonated through the empty spaces of him. Dreamlike, he helped Alma find the pots and the cider fixins, and retreated to the sofa in the room over while she filled the air with sweet steam. Spider settled against his right side and he tugged at her soft little ears. Soon she'd had enough, though, and decided that Alma was far more interesting company. Rhett didn't blame her. \n\nHe meditated in thoughtless contentment until Alma appeared in the doorway again, saying something about the Estep orchard while trying not to trip over the cat. Hearing Alma use Spider's nickname just spread that ethereal warmth even further through him. He watched the girls converse, Spider offering a few raspy little chirping sounds; she was a smart cat and knew when she was being addressed. \n\n\"Aw, that'd be my fault. I let 'er take a sniff of whatever I got. She don't always wanna dig in, but she likes a good whiff.\" Rhett apologized, reaching forward for the hot cup, holding it gingerly as not to spill it as Alma took her place on the couch. \n\n\"Naw, you should hear what she and I git ta talkin' about when it's just us,\" He admitted, falling silent for Alma's confession. He could relate to nightmares, certainly. He could relate to an animal's company as a salve for loneliness (people were good for it, too). \n_ _\n\n\"No, not at all–\" He assured, and reflexively, he reached for her to underline his words. His hand settled warm and heavy on her thigh and it took a second too long to realize this was a new crossroads of touch that they hadn't yet navigated. Embarrassed, he took back his hand and wrapped both around his mug even though the ceramic was a little too hot to hold. His blush spread like wildfire as he stared into the steaming liquid. \n\n\"I don't think it's childish at all.\" He said quietly, \"Animals know where you're hurting without you having to say.\" His voice was low. He glanced over to give her a knowing look before attending his cup again, blowing gently on the steam. Tentatively, he took a small sip. Even the vapors of the drink were enough to coat his tongue in comforting sweetness. \n\n\"Ah,\" He breathed, satisfied. Realizing he hadn't heard Alma's reaction to the drink, he suddenly noted her empty hands. \n\"Oh, that won't do,\" He tutted, unconsciously borrowing the visage of his aunts as he handed over his own drink and uncurled his legs from under himself, \"You take this 'n I'll dip up another.\" He was back within moments, pausing in the doorway to appreciate the fullness of the shack: Alma and a tiny cat-shaped shadow darkening her lap. One plane of Alma's face caught the dim moonlight off the snow from the window, the other receiving the orange flick of the fire through the stove grate. He wasn't sure which scheme suited her best; she glowed in any amount of light. \n\n\"This is real nice, Alma.\" Rhett told her as he settled back at her side, a little closer than before, whether he meant it or not. Spider sprawled in Rhett's direction for a scratch between the ears and yawned. Rhett had to stifle his own. How nice it would be, he thought, to fall asleep here: warm and drunk in more ways than one. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Rhett's reassurance lifted the weight right off her chest. Alma had seen the way he doted on Spider plenty of times by now, and it always made her feel a hint more endeared to him than she should. Mama Cooper had once told her that animals have a way of knowin' who's good or bad, and Dog and Spider both took to Rhett like they'd known him their whole lives. Rhett seemed to return their trust with all the affection in the world. Alma had not, however, known he spoke to Spider the same way she'd just done. \n\nThere it was again. That knocking around in her chest. \n\nIt got worse when he put his hand on her thigh. \n\nAlma stiffened up. It wasn't voluntary. A quick inhalation and a straightening of her spine that stemmed purely from shock and inexperience. *How brazen!* That was the kind of touch that could get a suitor chased out of a house with a shotgun aimed at his back. That was also a touch meant for... Well, meant for lovers. Most of what they'd done that night had already been crossing invisible boundaries. Holding hands, dancing (both in public and in private), and sitting on the same sofa were all dangerous, but each one could be explained away in the morning light. It would be difficult and a lie, but it could be done. *This* Couldn't. \n_ _\n\nThe surprise of it all showed on Alma's face. She'd never been particularly good at maintaining her expression unless there was a classroom full of children involved. Those big brown eyes cut over to his face, her brows arched up high and her lips parted but speechless. In the low flickering firelight of his woodstove, Alma caught the way the shadows flickered across his face and the promise of empathy in his eyes. He understood. He always understood. She could tell anything, and he—\n\nThe connection was severed. \n\nThey both turned away; Rhett took to his cup and Alma ran her hand down Spider's back. Both blushing furiously. \n\n\"They do have that blessin', don't they?\" She agreed, catching and acknowledging the weight behind his words. And wondering if the reason Spider had started purring louder was because of the ache in Alma's chest over the way he'd pulled away from her. As Rhett passed her his cup, Alma whispered a soft 'thank you', all the while longing for him to return to her side and to place his hand right back where it'd been. It was so rare that she ever did want someone. It scared her to know how bad she wanted it. She'd pressed book after book into her seeping wound of loneliness for so many years now that she had almost thought she could live out her days like that. Knights professing their undying love for their brides to be, soldiers writing lengthy letters back to the women they loved, girls weaving flowers round each other's wrists, and boys secreting away to clearings to confess without a watchful eye in sight. Each story a bandage and a promise that something as beautiful as love may exist, but that it was not meant for her broken hands.\n_ _\n\nShe had liked plenty of people. Austin with his quick laughter and love for gardening. Dimitra with her curls made of wildfire and jewelry that glimmered with the brilliance of a comet. She'd liked them so much that she'd tried to wrap them around her heart like an ill-fitting glove til the seams split and all that was left was scraps and bitter smiles. Never before had she *Wanted* Someone. \n\nRhett might have caught the stormy expression on Alma's face there in that doorway. He might have seen the furrowed brows and the deep ache and the confusion. He might have also caught the way she lit up when he returned, even if the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She shifted when he sat beside her - *Unbearably close now* - and hummed a soft sound of agreement at his words. She even laughed a little when Spider stretched towards him, and it gave her an idea. \n\n\"Nicer'n nice,\" She replied as she slowly tucked her legs to one side and *Slowly* (so that she could catch herself if he might show even the slightest hint of discomfort at her approach) rested her head against his shoulder. He still smelled faintly of gunsmoke and moonshine. She probably did, too, and the thought of their shared day made her sink against him. It would be easy to follow Spider's lead: to yawn, stretch, and fall asleep in front of the woodstove. A quiet voice reminded her that Bonnie and Linda would be distraught if they found out she'd never come home. If only they knew she was a stone's throw away and in the safest place she'd ever found in all of Briar Ridge: at Rhett's side.\n\n_ _\n✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲\n\nAlma was slow to wake up. Her eyes opened just a crack to find that the room was still dark. Dawn hadn't yet begun to paint its tender blues over the horizon . Alma always slept with her curtains opened just enough to allow her to rise with the sun. It was rare for her to wake up in the middle of the night unless a nightmare had her in its grips. Tonight had been blessedly peaceful. Eager to take advantage of the increasingly rare opportunity to rest, she tried to grab hold of her pillow, only for her hand to sweep across something soft and warm and *Decidedly not fuzzy*. \n\nThrough the steady rise and fall of her palm, Alma realized that her hand had landed on the chest of ~~something~~ someone and she quickly pulled it back. Her mind raced to piece together the drunken haze of last night. Rhett spinning her round and round. Racing through the snow. *Cuddling up on the*— Oh, God! She must have fallen asleep! She would've cursed if she wasn't terrified it might wake Rhett up. \n\nShe needed to leave. Bonnie and Linda would find how low the candle on the windowsill had gotten and would have a world of questions; she couldn't *Possibly* Tell them that she'd fallen asleep next door! Hopefully it'd only been half an hour or so. As she dared to explore her surroundings, she found that her back was to the sofa and that Rhett had taken the external side to keep her from rolling off. He was laid on his back and she had been using his arm as a pillow. This was the worst possible scenario. She would have to *Crawl over him* Without waking him.\n\nFor a moment, she was paralyzed by indecision. What was the worst possible outcome: waking up Rhett to confess she was running out of his arms or facing Bonnie and Linda in the morning? \n_ _\n\nMost definitely Bonnie and Linda. While she loved Rhett's aunties, the last thing she wanted to face was rumors of her and Rhett having been *Indecent* With one another. Alma had a reputation to uphold. So, she gathered up her courage and gingerly stretched her leg over Rhett. Her toes searched for the floor, but instead found cold ceramic. The livingroom was filled with the sound of a forgotten cider mug toppling and rolling on his hardwood floors. It made Alma jerk her foot back onto the sofa quick like she'd been bitten and—\n\nShe straddled Rhett. \n\nHis eyes opened. \n\n*Shit!*"
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Rhett got what he wanted, though he couldn't recall the exact moment he'd fallen asleep. He cashed in on the reward when he woke to find Alma slumped against him, her breathing even, her lashes fluttering downward in a dream. Still partially weightless from the combined efforts of alcohol and slumber, he hazily rearranged their bodies with comfort in mind, and fell asleep again. \n\nThe next time he awoke was less peaceful but still wildly pleasant, at least until he clocked the expression on Alma's horrified face. It took him a few puzzled moments to piece together the configuration of their bodies in relation to where they'd left off when he'd organized them on the couch last. Alma was hovered over him, the sound of falling ceramic echoing up from the floor. Her hair tumbled over him like a dark shroud, and all the world was Alma. His heart stuttered and his breath stopped. He looked at her mouth– *God~* Why there of all places! \n\nIn the absurdity of it all, Rhett cracked. What began as a snort of laughter devolved into a sleepy, breathless giggle. \n\n\"Well.\" He said, having difficulty pulling on a straight face, even when met with Alma's disaster-stricken one. He was too tired, too giddy to even blush, though it would have been well-called for in the moment. \n\n\"I don't mean ta stop you escapin', but–\" His brain began to wake up mid-sentence. What he'd been on track to say gave him pause, but the scant remains of alcohol in his system fought back against his wakefulness.\n\"But. You know you're welcome to stay.\" \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "\"S-S-Sorry. Oh, Lord, I-I-I-I-I didn't mean— I-I ain't — I'm n-n-not like—\" \n\nAlma was rendered unable to squeak out anything but the most basic of words. A deluge of stammered-out apologies slipped out in rapid succession, entirely too panicked to catch the way his eyes had lingered on her. That is until she realized he was laughing. And, God, how he laughed. It wasn't malicious or anythin' like that. His voice was thick and low from sleep. It made her voice catch in her throat and she suddenly couldn't say anything at all. All she could do was take in his disheveled curls and the wrinkle of his eyes. She could feel the gentle rumble of his laughter through the palms of her hands. It was that laughter that made her realize just how silly the situation was too. \n\n\"Rhett!\" She scolded him, even as she started to laugh with him. \"I-If you don't quit laughin' at m-me—!\" She never finished her threat and instead punctuated it with a playful shove against his shoulder. She giggled along with him till he caught her attention by speaking. \n\n*\"I don't mean ta stop you escapin', but... But, you know you're welcome to stay.\"*\n\nNow that Alma was relatively sober, she caught that pause. She poked and prodded and chewed on it even as she slowly - *Reluctantly* - peeled herself away from him. That position had been entirely improper, and his talking about escape reminded her what had landed her there in the first place. Alma had enough sense about her to remember that she should be ashamed and her cheeks went back to being flushed.\n\n_ _\n\"I cain't, Rhett,\" She murmured quietly as if she worried that merely talking too loud might wake Bonnie and Linda. She stood on shaky feet and went to fetch the cup so it wouldn't be tripped over as she got ready. It also served as an excuse to continue mulling over whether or not she wanted to continue that sentence. She could leave it there just as easily as she set his cup down in his wash basin. Leave it to be addressed in the morning light as was proper. Nothing good ever came out of conversations whispered passed midnight. Or, she could let herself linger in the sin and the dark a moment longer. Run her fingers across the dips and valleys of her heart when she had the cover of night to hide behind. Let herself be brave. And let herself be hurt if she was reading things wrong, too. At least in the dark, he might not see her face so well. \n\nThat was why she lingered in the shadows of his kitchen for a moment too long. She only dared to step forward enough for the moonlight coming in through the window to touch the hem of her brown dress. \"Bonnie and Linda put out a candle for me, so that means they'll be expectin' me. I didn't tell 'em I wouldn't be back, and it'd worry them. Not to mention that it ain't very proper of me. I'm a single, unmarried woman, and you're—... Well, it wouldn't be very proper. I can already hear the rumors now. So, I'll go,\" She paused and sucked in a nervous breath. \"E-E-Even if I'd much rather s-stay.\" The last sentence was the quietest and her voice betrayed her by quivering with fear. \n\nRather than sit with the butterflies in her stomach, Alma started pulling up her hair. Anything - *Anything* - to do something other than watch and wait for Rhett's reaction. She coiled her hair around her hand and murmured something about looking for her hairpin as she flitted around the livingroom like a bird, panicked and desperate to be free of her own emotions."
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Rhett was waking up moment by moment, desperate to blink the sleep away and be present for these beautiful moments. They laughed, and it was beautiful. She shoved into him, and it was beautiful. His hands hovered up to find her waist above him, but then she was shrinking away. She was putting space between them. He could have pouted– real 'n honest pouted! \n\nPhysical closeness was all that was missing from his and Alma's bond. Time and time again, Rhett policed his instincts to place a hand on her shoulder, her arm, her knee. He had figured her out over the months, enough to know that touch was something their comfort levels didn't align on, and he'd resolved not to push her. More than discern her comfort levels, though, he'd come to realize that Alma was sometimes quite a nervous creature. It was endearing more than anything, but at times like these (*Especially* At times like these), her nervousness made him sad. Was *He* The thing that made her scared? Made her stutter? After all this time, all the nights up late working, all the shared baked goods and walks in the woods– why should she be nervous around him? \n\n—\n—\n\n*Even if I'd much rather stay.* \n\nBut oh! There was no denying that *Those* Were words he could sink into. Those were words that softened a man into a tangle of veins and a handful of calluses. He could be lost in that sentence and never hope to draw a map back home. \n\nHe didn't let the volume of the phrase inform his understanding. She'd said it! Out loud, goddamnit, she'd spoken it into being! The confidence he gained then was a frightening thing.\n\nRhett saw her hair pin. It glinted among the rumpled blankets of the sofa. With hands as steady as a surgeon, he lifted it. He stood. He stepped closer to Alma. \n_ _\n\n\"Lookin' for this?\" He asked, his eyes trailing the rope of her hair, bunched in her hand, \"Here.\" He gingerly placed the pin between his teeth, and his hands on Alma's shoulders. He guided her so she faced away from him, and covered her hands in his, unwinding her dark hair into his rough fingers. \n\nBeing raised by women meant that Rhett was a collector of soft, feminine knowledge that other men his age might not be privy to. Fixing hair just happened to be one of those things. When Gramma Alice's hands got to be all stiff and boney in her older age, she couldn't rightly reach up and fix a twist into her hair like she liked. She guided Rhett through the process, time and time again, until she praised that he was gentler on her than she was with her own brush and pins. It'd been a while since he'd done that for her, so he hoped he wasn't about to embarrass himself. \n\nHe was calm and cool, though his heart was pounding in its wild celebration of closeness. His good sense scolded him for being too pushy, too forward. *Here she was just talkin' 'bout* Improper *'n rumors! And here* YOU *Are playin' with her hair like a damned fool–* He'd finished his ill-advised task by the time he could rightly scold himself. The bun was a bit crooked, but selfishly, he liked it, especially how some of the shorter pieces fell away at the front. \n\n\"Lemme see how I did,\" He muttered, his voice low, some level of embarrassment for his boldness encroaching on his tone. Rhett slid a hand down to Alma's and guided her to face him, not letting go once they were eye to eye. \n\n\"You gotta fix mine now, you know. If I'm gonna walk you over to the big house, I cain't go lookin' all mussed 'n whatnot.\" He knew he was being brash. He knew he was directly going against Alma's frantic energy to escape back to her bed, but she'd *Said it*! She'd *Said* She didn't want to leave! God knew he didn't want her to, either, and so he hoped his gamble to keep her a little longer paid off."
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "For all her book smarts, whatever game Rhett was playing was entirely lost on Alma. \n\nWhen she saw the hairpin in his hand, she turned quickly to take it from him. To piece herself back together and escape the unknown territory she'd just thrust them into. She would be able to think straight when her breath stopped catchin' in her throat and her heart stopped poundin' at the slightest tilt of his voice. So, she was entirely unprepared for his offer or for him to raise the pin to his lips. Her eyes lingered there for far longer than was *Proper*, and it was his hands on her shoulders that tore her from her trance. \n\nShe didn't even have the time to question how Rhett might know what to do with a woman's hair. All she knew right then was that his fingers felt heavenly. Alma's hair was long and entirely contrary to the styles of the city women. It hung so low that it brushed the tops of her hips. If she wasn't careful, she'd occasionally get headaches from wearing her hair up for too long from the weight of all of it piled high. It was one of the few parts of herself she took pride in. So, her eyes slid closed as he gathered it up and slid the pin in like he'd done it dozens of times. \n\nThe brazenness of his hand whispering down her arm left goosebumps in his wake. She had all the reason in the world to be accustomed to his touch by that point in the evening, but even the slightest press of his skin against hers brought back memories of singin' and moonlight. She allowed herself to turn to face him, using her free hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear and nervously looking up at him. \"Well, whaddya think?\" Every single thing she'd done that evening was to avoid *Looking* At his face for too long because she *Knew* How it made her weak in the knees. He was so tall that she had to crane her chin up for her to show him proper, and her eyes kept dartin' anywhere but his. His nose, his chin, his *Lips*—\n\n_ _\nThankfully, he gave her something better to focus on a task. Now that was something she could do (with a bit of stretching, mind you). \"Right,\" She agreed, \"Bonnie and Linda are sharp ladies. Good thinkin'.\" She had to hop up on her tiptoes, the hand that remained in Rhett's squeezing it gently to help maintain her balance as she carefully smoothed down his hair. Her touch was light at first as she only pulled the ends of his waves, but she realized quickly that wasn't doing much of anything. Soon, her fingers were carding through his hair just as he had done moments ago, brushing it down until there wasn't even the slightest hint they'd both been asleep moments before. \n\n\"There,\" She almost whispered, letting herself get one last good look in before she lowered back to the heels of her feet. Now... Well, now she should let go of his hand, shouldn't she? She glanced down at where her fingers had intertwined with his without her realizing. She should pull away. She *Could* Pull away. He'd be a stone's throw away (quite literally) come morning. There was no reason for her to feel so reluctant to let him go. Come morning, she could cook him pancakes at the big house and regale Bonnie with how Rhett had shot that rabbit earlier and maybe even catch him and Dog playin' fetch out the window. And maybe, just maybe, they could steal away for another moment to talk. \n\nBut when would that be? The school kept her busy and Rhett worked so many jobs around town that she swore he knew more folks than she did at this point. If it wasn't Bonnie and Linda listening in, there was always a volunteer in the Ruins or someone patchin' up their house outside. For it to be just the two of them... \n\n\"I should go,\" She repeated, but her hand didn't seem to take the cue. It only held on tighter. *Selfish.*"
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "\"I think a tree branch could fix your hair 'n it'd still look wonderful.\" Rhett promised, watching her watch him. \n\nHe recognized this moment: her chin tilted up to him, their hands holding. The air between them was electrified; their skins were paper thin. Every movement, every breath was amplified. What if he leaned down? What if he tilted her chin just so? \n\nAlma claimed the task of fixing him up faster than he could act on his impulses, thank the Lord. He had a few moments to collect himself and to read clues from the situation. Should he really be thinking of kissing her? Was she thinking of kissing him? Her hand was still in his. Her fingers were in his hair. She'd smoothed down that spot already... \n\nWhen she finished, he let himself be appraised. He found that he was happiest with Alma's attention on him lately. He liked being looked at by her. He liked the version of himself reflected in her eyes. \n\nShe looked at their hands, and he followed her lead. She held on tighter, and he squeezed back– just so. Now? Now. \n\n\"Alma,\" Rhett's face was angled down in the hopes of drawing her gaze back upward. He wet his lips, nervous. Good *God*, he couldn't remember the last time he was so *Nervous*! \n\"Alma, could I– can–\" He ventured, swearing he could see his own heartbeat twitching movement into the front of his flannel. \n_ _\n\n*I should go.*\n\nOh. \n\nRhett swallowed dryly. \n\nOh...\n\n\"Can you give me a moment 'fore we walk? I gotta put some more oil in the lantern.\" He recovered, but just barely. Lingering a moment longer, he finally slid his palm from hers and stepped away to the kitchen, struck immediately by his grief for the space between them. Surely he'd missed his chance. Surely she'd've forgiven him if he'd gone for it! But there was always the chance she wouldn't have. \n\nHe pried on his boots after pretending to empty more fuel into the base of the lamp, holding it by its handle and turning to leave. \n\n\"Ready for the journey?\" His voice was still warm, and still tender, but there was a noticeable loss of brightness. A loss of confidence, perhaps. He opened the door into the crisp night, offering his arm out for Alma to hold without a second thought to the physical intimacy they'd just avoided. This was different, he supposed. This was a threshold already crossed. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Alma had spoke over him. \n\nRhett had been trying to ask her something, and Alma had spoken right over him. \n\nAlma couldn't stop kicking herself as Rhett let her hand go. She'd nodded stiffly when he'd asked for a moment, and now she was left watching him fiddle with the lamp like she'd just ruined everything. What if she'd just waited three seconds more? What if she'd let her fingers whisper through his hair a moment longer? What if she had said somethin' else? *I don't want to go* Or *One last dance* Or *You look perfect now* Or... \n\nAs soon as Rhett started turning back to her, Alma twisted round so he couldn't see her face. She stiffly went through the motions of putting on her still-damp socks, boots, and layers . What had she done? What had she done? What had she done? Had she not touched his hair right? Had she not looked in his eyes long enough? Had she not been brave enough? She'd wanted to pull his hand up to her lips and kiss his palm just like earlier, but she'd forced the feeling down. That had been too rash. Too dangerous. Now, she wished she'd done it more than anything as she coiled her scarf around her neck. Anything to linger in his presence a moment longer. Part of her knew that Rhett was only respectfully helping her do exactly what she'd said she needed to, and that only made it worse.\n\n\"Ready,\" She replied without a hint of laughter at his joke about it being a 'journey'. It was all she could do to hide the disappointed tone in her voice, but she'd never been a good liar. Not once in her life had she ever pretended to be. That was why she was hiding her face from him even then. They'd known each other for so many months now she was sure he'd be able to read the confusion and distress on her face clear as day. But, when he offered his arm to her, she had no choice but to take it. Part of her was grateful for the offering to reconnect, but the other part of her hissed that this was something friends would do.\n\n_ _\nShe'd ruined the moment. \n\nAs they stepped out into the biting cold, Alma shrank back from the wind by pressing against his side. She'd forgotten just what they'd escaped from! Even if she'd wanted nothing more than to spend every second she could with him, the cold forced her to take quick steps to The Big House's front door. \n\nShe should say something, shouldn't she? \n\n\"Thank you, Rhett,\" She said, but it felt too mechanical. What would a brave woman say? What would a brave woman do? \"For everything,\" She tacked on, praying that the weight behind those two words might help convey her truth. She reluctantly pulled her arm out from the crook of his and started to unlock the door."
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "The short walk to the big house was chaste. Formal. Rhett hated it. Something inside him writhed against the formality, rejoicing only when Alma shrank closer to avoid the chill. They had just been curled together, asleep by a fire! How had they gotten here? \n\nThe scant shelter of his aunts' porch offered a bit of protection from the wind, but not much. As Alma released Rhett's arm, he reached overhead to hook the lantern on an iron hook bolted to the doorframe to give her some light against the lock.\n\nHe pulled everything from her *Thank you* That he could: harvested its branches bare of even the most withered fruit. He tasted it all: gratitude, reluctance, sincerity, regret, tenderness. It made a strange dish, but one flavor prevailed, and that was *Truth.* He savored it and held it sweet on his tongue as she turned away. No. Not again. \n\nRhett reached for Alma's hand as she reached for the doorknob. As he had just minutes before in the shack, he guided her to face him, angling his body to stand between her and the gusting wind. His hand left hers to cup her chin, her jaw, as he tilted her face to meet his. \n\nHe kissed her. \n\nHis thumb trailed her cheekbone, fingers hidden back in her hair. He kissed her, and he meant it, and his other hand found its way to her waist to pull her closer just to prove it.\n\nHere was all the closeness they'd been avoiding, dancing around like a ritual fire: close enough to feel the warmth and call on its magic, but far enough away to avoid the burn. Here was the relief for all those times of just *Knowing* That the other was looking at them, but not being brave enough to turn and catch them in the act. Here were all the nervous brushes of fingers chalked up to accidents. \n\nRhett's kiss, then, was the invitation for Alma to stare, whenever she wanted to, as long as he could stare back. \nIt was the promise that he meant to graze her hand, her shoulder, her thigh, and God willing, he planned to do it again and again and again. \n_ _\n\nHe hoped that between their sealed lips, she could know all of what his words couldn't tell her out loud: *Alma Cooper, you are beautiful, you are brilliant, you are brave. I want us to take care of each other the best we know how, and get better at it the harder we try.* \n\nMaybe if he'd've drawn on the courage to hold her like this in the lamplight of the shack, the moment could've lasted longer. Here, in the dim glow of the lantern on the hook, and the flicker of the receding candle on the kitchen sill, he was reminded of their limited time. Rhett was expected to deliver her, safe and warm, back to his aunts' doorstep. He was expected to wish her goodnight. He was expected to walk back to his bed alone. And he would do it. Reluctantly, he would do it. \n\nThey parted, but his palm continued to cup her jaw for just a selfish moment longer before he dropped his hand to his side. The one at her waist sadly followed, but their bodies were still sealed. He did not look down, and he did not look away. Rhett lived squarely *Here* And *Now*, rising with pride to claim the moment. He stood by what that kiss had promised, with a fierce hope that his message had been received. \n\nRhett smiled. His blush was neatly hidden by the pink flush of cold across his face as his heartbeat finally caught up to him, and boy did the pounding in his chest nearly swallow him whole. Alma was lucky that his body wasn't allowing him to ruin the moment with words and instead, it only allowed him to ruin it with laughter. Giddy, awestruck, and utterly joyful, Rhett Sterling had kissed a pretty girl and was laughing about it. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Alma had been kissed before. \n\nIt took her years and years to allow someone close enough to even try. See, there's power behind a kiss. That was something Alma had learned early on as she snuck books beneath her desk in class and at the dinner table. Kisses woke up sleeping maidens. Kisses turned frogs back into princes. Kisses meant true love. \n\nSomehow, by the time Alma hit her early twenties, she came to the sudden realization that she'd never been kissed; that was a strange thing to be able to claim, no matter how proper of a lady she tried to be. Throughout school, she never understood her peers' crushes. How was it that someone could fall into a giggling mess over someone they'd only ever said hello to once? As her small group slowly overcame the trials of young love, Alma found herself left behind in the dust while she waited on The One. Boys and girls alike tried to gain Alma's attention sure, but she was still an adamant believer in her silly fantasy that one day she'd fall in love at first sight. Until she was convinced That Someone would never come along and that it was she who needed to change instead. At the rate she was going, she would end up a lonely spinster. Her mother certainly teased her about it to no end. \n\nEach attempt at finding someone since then had been an experiment. The Question: Will kissing someone feel like it's described in the books? The Cruel Answer: No. She'd tried Austin. She'd tried Dimitra. One without moonshine. The other with plenty. Both experiments had *Unpleasant* Results. There were a handful of others after that, but there were only so many attempts she could make in as small a town as Briar Ridge without compromising her reputation.\n\n_ _\n After her experiments, Alma decided she was broken. Lonely, but broken. She would never find her true love. That was meant for people with normal hearts and normal needs. No, she was strange and wrong like an engine with a faulty throttle. Every spark she ever caught was quashed before it could be a fire. For her own heart's sake. She couldn't move fast - *Wouldn't* Move fast. That turned folks away. Love at first sight was a lie. The One was a lie. True love's kiss was a lie. Pretty lies feed to little girls to keep them pure and chaste and *Valuable.*\n\nBut maybe, just maybe, Alma wasn't broken after all. \n\nIf this wasn't true love's kiss, it was the closest damn thing she'd come to in her entire life. \n\nRhett caught her entirely by surprise. The only warning she had was the feeling of his hand on her jaw, pulling her lips up to meet his. He may have felt her shocked inhalation and her muffled sound of surprise through her lips, which was quickly followed by acceptance. No, not acceptance. Gratitude. Joy. Relief. Her eyes slid closed and she melted right into him, letting herself be pulled as close as he wished. \n\nHe could've led her anywhere right then. \n\nHer arms slipped around his neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. As she kissed him back, she silently returned his message: *Rhett Sterling, you are handsome, you are talented, you are kind. I want nothing more than to grow with you if you'd allow me by your side.*\n\n_ _\nThe longer that Rhett kept his lips pressed to Alma's, the weaker she was getting. The months of self-doubt, excuses, and longing glances had all led up to this dizzying moment of relief. He kissed her! He kissed her! He kissed her! Her knees were growing weaker by the second. It felt like she'd forgotten how to breathe. This was what kisses - *Real kisses* - were meant to feel like, right? By the time their lips parted, Alma was holding onto Rhett's shoulders like a lifeline... Until gravity had its way with her. \n\nPerhaps they were both dizzy from the sudden rush of emotions. Perhaps they'd both forgotten their need for oxygen in their giddy haze. Whatever the reason, the both of them went tumbling down onto his aunties' front porch with an echoing wooden *Thud.*\n\nAlma blinked up at the covered porch's ceiling in shock as she processed what just happened. And then she started to giggle. She tried to press her hand to the back of her mouth like a schoolgirl, but it wasn't working! She giggled so much that she turned to Rhett and buried her face in his chest before she could wake up the rest of the house with her unbridled joy. \n\n*What would a brave woman do?*\n\nHis lips had given her all the courage she needed. As soon as she could breathe again, she reached for Rhett's face. *Propriety be damned!* Her fingertips were already growing cold, but she didn't care as she pulled him close and pressed another breathless kiss against his lips."
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "The traitorous cavities of Rhett that hadn't expected Alma to kiss him back recoiled, sour in their indiscretion. They were few in the great crowd of his confidence, which overwhelmingly cheered and celebrated with a satisfied hunger. She kissed him back. *She kissed him back!* \n\nThe shape of her felt so right against him: somehow brand new and like he'd imagined all at once. Their difference in heights made Alma all the more precious, and Rhett was all the more aware of the pressure upon himself to hold her dearly, but fiercely. Even so, their embrace was, in its distillation, a handshake agreement to hold one another however they knew best. \n\nHere she was, speaking a language he related to as a native tongue. They could now communicate across the wide horizon of touch, and Rhett was relieved. A whole dictionary's worth of speech was made available to him in the moments of their first kiss; a whole hymnal of praises was waiting to be sung!\n\nThe ratcheting of her grip around his neck only provoked that sense of relief, until it didn't– until it reached the point of concern. \n\nHe felt her weight fall, and he couldn't catch her in his joy-weary state. All he did was cushion her with his body as he fell with her. Immediately, Rhett propped himself up on an elbow and sturdied his back against the wall of the house to look over their pile of limbs and coats and scarves, sighing when she dove for him again. The shape of his grin imprinted across her mouth, and again, Rhett and Alma were drunk as sailors. \n_ _\n\nWas that cinnamon he tasted? Brown sugar? \n\nAll too sudden, a lantern lit in a back window, the dim glow cast onto the leaf litter around the side of the house. Aunt Linda always had been a light sleeper. Rhett pulled away to stare at the light, good humored betrayal streaking his expression. \n\n\"You best git in that house now, girl.\" He whispered, his voice all crisp and giddy. He clutched at Alma protectively as he helped her to her feet, and because he couldn't help himself now that a door had been opened between them, he sealed his lips to hers once more. This kiss was quick– a promise that it wouldn't be the last, but flush and confident enough to remind her that their first was far behind them. When he pulled away again, he took her in like a glowing thing, like a jar of fireflies on a summer night. He fixed her crooked scarf. He threaded a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, hurried but tender. \n\n\"Goodnight Miss Cooper.\" He straightened up, pulling on the lapels of his coat, all proper-like. *Proper.* That word was an old friend. Alma would see through his playful attempt at cool immediately, and Rhett only hoped it would make their cold, inevitable goodbye a little easier. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "hyderation",
"message": "```End!!! I can finally THINK again cause this thread had A CHOKEHOLD ON MY HEART UGH <3 <3 <3 ```"
}
] | 827.5 | 14,450 |
400.285714 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "papercranes",
"message": "Jessie John, even at the tender age of fourteen, was never considered to be an 'unruly' child. They never strayed too far from the path, never let themself be late for important occasions, and never spoke out of hand. It was little wonder, then, that they were as close to their uncle Owen as they were.\n\nThey were swamped under the weight of Owen's coat as they sprinted off the farm, the chill of the night air bringing gooseflesh to their arms as much as the feeling of disobedience was. The only house lit on the grounds was the main house, where Owen was tending to the fire in the hearth. He'd only given Jessie a small nod of his head when they announced that they were going sleep at Dorothy's that night, not even turning his head as his nibling ran out the door.\n\nHe'd been... Different, ever since the February full moon. Josephine remained at the doctor's office, her condition too critical to risk moving her back to the farm, and her absence hung heavily over the entire farm. Each child and grandchild would take their turn visiting her, but Owen would visit each day, staying by her bedside until closing hours.\n\nNo one knew how to help him, and Jessie only had one option left in mind.\n\nIt took them a few moments to catch their breath after finally reaching Rhett's shack, bent over with their hands on their knobby knees. Once they had, they padded over to the door and knocked twice.\n\n\"Uncle Rhett? I need to talk to you...\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "In some ways, being back in the shack was a strange feeling. Rhett had gotten so used to sleeping on the floor of the parlor in his aunts' house as he recovered, the thin walls of his shack felt even lonelier than they had before. At nights, he was far from the shuffling of the house denizens to the washroom or kitchen. What was he going to do with the new information he'd earned regarding the difference in cadence between the footsteps of Bonnie, Linda, Alma, and Gramma Alice? Even Spider seemed to miss Dog, taking leave from the shack to visit the bloodhound with a great frequency. \n\nThe past week had been spent weaning himself from the constant company: showing up to dinners and lunches less regularly. It felt like leaving town all over again, even though he was just headed across the lawn. \n\nWhen he heard a knock at the door, Rhett perked up, imagining Alma or one of his aunts on the other side, bringing him a plate, or telling him there was one waiting for him. He wasn't disappointed to find Jessie John, more so confused. \n\n\"Hey there, Jessie, what's–\" Jessie's insistent tone cut him short, and Rhett tried to search the child's face for clues. Immediately, what came to mind was of course the attack suffered by Josephine. Had she been targeted again this month? Had Owen been hurt? \n\nOwen. \n_ _\n\nThe thought of the man made Rhett's mouth go dry. In the crowded vision of faces Rhett had abandoned for Constance, Owen's always appeared front and center. It had been a year since Rhett had crawled back to Briar Ridge, and though that crowd thinned with each weak apology the Sterling boy offered those he'd left behind, Owen remained unaddressed. Waiting. But, Rhett reasoned, not for lack of wanting. He'd been told by Owen's mother to stay away, the prohibition enforced by his aunts, close friends of Mrs. Barnes. Josephine hadn't given a detail of why Rhett should keep his distance, but Rhett could piece it together. \n\nHe and Owen had been close before he'd left. There had been something of an ember there between them, waiting to be nursed to ignition. The urgency of Constance and all that she demanded had snuffed it all out, and Rhett carried a great deal of fear in his heart that, when he and Owen were to reunite, he'd find that ember long cold. He certainly couldn't blame the man. The sadness was heavy and Owen carried enough already. Rhett couldn't have dreamed to ask him to hold onto anything more. \n\nAnd so he'd stayed away all this time, seeing Owen around town and childishly hiding from his eye. He'd seen all the nieces and nephews grown nearly beyond recognition in his absence (he couldn't always help his interactions with them, buying a pocketful of sweets at the general store for when he saw them around). Jessie John was one of those little niblings he happened to see more often, and so they talked. Rhett sometimes paid them a few cents to run an errand or two, and his heart melted each time the words *Uncle Rhett* Hit the air. \n\n\"Is everythin' alright? What's goin' on? Your Auntie Josie okay?\" The questions tumbled out, and immediately Rhett felt guilting for potentially overwhelming the poor kid more than they already were.\n_ _"
},
{
"author": "papercranes",
"message": "Jessie liked to think of themselves as strong-willed, even at the tender age of fourteen. While the rest of the grandchildren howled and wept, they stood firm, their expression unwavering. \n\nYet, at the mention of their grandmother, Jessie finally cracked.\n\n\"Nana's gone, Uncle Rhett.\" Their lower lip trembled as tears gathered at their lashline. \"She went after the March moon, and I don't know what to *Do.*\"\n\nJessie was only six when Rhett had left, and all their memory could sustain was the devastated look on the family's faces. For a few months after, Ben, the eldest grandchild, would ask Josephine where Uncle Rhett was- normally before she was about to visit Auntie Linda and Bonnie. Jessie would cling to Ben's patched-up pants, looking up at the weathered face of Josephine as she reached down to pat them both on the head.\n\nThe answer was the same each time: *\"It's best not to talk about that boy now.\"*\n\nA few nights after his return, Jessie had been helping their Aunt Dorothy make Sunday dinner while Josephine peeled potatoes. It was a casual mention, something to keep the conversation going, but when Josephine shot her head up to stare daggers at her eldest, Jessie finally understood.\n\nJosephine had grown to loathe him.\n\nIt didn't stop the grandchildren from seeing him, either way- he was always the first they went to for a small job, or to get a handful of sweets, but the line had to be drawn in the sand, lest any of them receive their grandmother's wrath.\n\n***Do not let Owen see Rhett.***\n\n\"Uncle Owen's not talkin' to any of us, Uncle Rhett! I'm hearin' him cry at night, a-and he's barely sleepin', and I don't know how to help and I'm scared!\"\n\nFat tears ran down Jessie's cheeks as their chest heaved. \"Please... I don't k-know what to do...\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "*Nana's gone.*\n\nRhett's heart plummeted: for Jessie, for all the kids. And for Owen. As Jessie described their uncle's current state, Rhett felt like he was sinking under the weight of Owen's grief from across town. He swallowed thickly, unsure of the way forward.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, Jessie. I— it's good you came here. I mean. *Thank you* Fer comin'. We'll see to your Uncle Owen. We will.\" He cooed, the assurances tumbling out. His instinct was to go to the Barnes house and peel Owen from his sorrow, but knowing that Josephine prohibited it gave him pause. Would Rhett showing up really help matters, anyway? Or would it just make things worse? \n\n\"I'll stop by Auntie Linda's kitchen in the big house, see if she's got any more molasses cake. We'll bring Owen some, huh? See what that does?\" The plan was weak, and Rhett knew it. It wasn't until Spider appeared at Jessie's ankles that a better plan occurred. \n\n\"Spider kin come too, cain't'cha, girl?\" His eyes flashed hopefully over to Jessie's, \"Your Uncle Owen loves him a critter.\" This was true. He felt a guilty using Spider as a conduit for emotional connection, but Rhett recognized his own interpersonal incompetence and would employ any tactic to compensate. \n\nAs promised, Rhett and Jessie stopped by the kitchen for a big square of cake before setting off to the Barnes property, Spider trotting along behind them. \n\n\"Maybe, when we git there Jessie, you kin... You kin try talkin' to Owen a bit. See if he'll come on out.\" Rhett suggested, his face scrunched up with the discomfort of the crude wooden crutch jammed into his armpit with each of his steps. He held the cake in the hand of his broken arm, the sling suspending it awkwardly at chest level. \n\n\"It's just that... Well. You know your Uncle Owen 'n me haven't talked in a while. I jus wouldn't want him ta feel...\" *Ambushed* Was the word Rhett searched for, but he settled instead for a shrug, and let Jessie lead the rest of the way to the house in weak silence."
},
{
"author": "papercranes",
"message": "Jessie managed a smile as Spider wound her way around their legs, and managed to give Rhett a small nod. Owen had always loved animals, even more so after his injury. Spider was a little different than what he would be used to, but he'd love her just as much as any other creature, Jessie was sure of that.\n\nThey followed closely behind Rhett as he made his way to the big house, hovering nervously at his crutched side. Even when the pair stepped foot inside, and Rhett's aunts came to offer their condolences, Jessie stayed glued to his side. Thankfully, they seemed to understand and instead draped a quilted shawl over Jessie's shoulders. It dwarfed their small frame, much like Owen's coat did, but they smiled in thanks nonetheless.\n\nOn the way to the farmstead, they continued to hover at Rhett's side, their eyes flitting to and fro from the path ahead to his broken arm.\n\n\"I can take the cake for you, Uncle Rhett- you don't have to carry it...\" They muttered, brows scrunching with worry. \"I'll bring it in while I try to talk to him, and you could sit on the porch if you want to. Y-You could come inside, but I don't know how Uncle Owen will react.\"\n\nAs they neared the main house, Jessie's steps slowed as their eyes widened."
},
{
"author": "Owen Barnes",
"message": "Owen sat on the porch, his good eye set hollowly on the dirt path that led to the front steps. His blonde hair was longer and messier than Rhett would remember, the strands mostly obscuring his left side. Still, bits and pieces of his burnt skin could be seen, alongside the milky white of his bad eye.\n\nHe raised slowly from the steps at Jessie's approach, but he froze in place when he saw Rhett beside them.\n\n\"...Rhett?\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "On the walk, Rhett tried to ease the tension with gentle questions about Jessie's schooling, their friends. It became clear, though, that this was no occasion for smalltalk. They walked in silence most of the way, making an odd cadence between Rhett's uneven limp and Jessie's nervous shuffling. Rhett had been keeping an eye on the path for the most part, making sure his crutch didn't land awkwardly. His attention jolted forward as Jessie slowed. \n\n\"Oh,\" He breathed, involuntary. They were still a good twenty feet away, but Rhett could feel his name on its way out of Owen's mouth. Spider, unable to read social cues despite her immaculate and otherworldly sight, bounded ahead on the path, sensing a friend in Owen even though they'd never met. She chirped and circled the man cautiously, before nudging into Owen's slack hand with her entire face. \n\n\"Go on inside, Jessie.\" Rhett gestured with a tilt of his head, pausing briefly to extend a hand for the treats they'd carried, \"Leave the sweets, dear.\" \n\nArmed with molasses cake and a pounding heart, Rhett sauntered forward with all the courage of a bee-stung bear. A few paces short of where Owen sat, he lifted his eyes to his old friend's face. \n\n\"Bonnie 'n Linda... Send their best.\" He held out the parcel of cake, glancing at Spider who was shamelessly flopped onto her side, showing her belly in a tender display of trust. Rhett wished humans could communicate so effectively and so simply. He would roll over for Owen right then and there if it meant saying *I'm sorry, I'm here, let me be something you need.*\n\n\"That's little Spider Mae. Insisted on comin' with us ta see ya.\" He offered weakly, clearing his throat into the ensuing silence. He knew it was his job to do the talking. He'd been too silent for long enough, but what words could he choose to fit this situation? All at once, there were too few and too many to pick from. \n\n\"Owen, I...\" A great start, and another awkward pause. \n\"Kin I sit down with ya?\""
}
] | 417 | 2,802 |
689.333333 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "Nightmares were nothing new. Alma was half certain Bonnie and Linda would go mad with how often Alma found herself lurching awake, upside down on the bed and the blankets knocked to the floor from the fits she'd have in her sleep. Her heart was always pounding as if she'd just been runnin' for her life, and that was mostly because she had been. Dog had long learned to press his head down on her chest to try and wake her up, and that worked most of the time. But there were some nights where the dreams' talons were in too deep and nothing could rouse her except for herself. \n\nTonight had been one of those nights. \n\nAlma slowly sat up, her body still shaking and aching from the memories. She dragged her wrist across her forehead. Cold sweat came with it. She climbed to her feet, mindful of the creaky floorboards she'd learned about in her months of living with the Sterlings, and poured herself a sip of water from the glass carafe she'd taken to keeping on her nightstand for moments like these. The water was cool and fresh. It reminded her that she was in her body just as much as she was in her mind. She perched herself on the edge of the bed and ran her thumb along the vertical ridges of the cup. Another trick she'd learned to not dwell on the people she'd buried and the teeth she'd felt. \n_ _\n\nAnd so began a familiar ritual. A set of rules to calm herself down. She thought of Shady as he was now: the curls of his hair and the smirk that always crept into his smile. It helped her draw the line between beast and man, even if she swore he sometimes looked at her like he still wanted to dig his teeth in and never let go. She thought of Dog and how he set his head in her lap and *Thud-thud-thudded* His tail against the bedroom floor. She absentmindedly ran her other hand over the ridge of his head and she thought of the reassurance of Rhett's hand pressed into hers. The feeling of his arms wrapped around her and the warmth radiating from his chest. The way just being in the same room as him kept her whole when she was sure she'd fall apart any second over how hurt he was. \n\nIf she closed her eyes and pretended hard enough, she could hear the soft rumble of his laughter. Admire the memory of how sunlight set his hair ablaze when it hit him just right. Imagine what it'd felt like to curl up on his chest that one and only night she'd been drunk and brave enough to fall asleep in his arms. Remember her thumb going numb as it ran over his knuckles again and again and again while he lay half-dead and all she could do was share the same air as him. She'd spent so many nights on that floor beside his recovery bed, weeping and praying and whispering and loving that now that he was well enough to be back in his own shack, Alma's ritual had fallen to tatters. \n_ _\n\nAlma stood and replaced the glass. Dog looked up at her in confusion. It was pitch dark out. If she had to venture a guess, it was only two or three in the morning. All the world was still asleep except for her. She could fix it. She could make sure he was still breathing, just like she'd done for weeks now. She wouldn't be able to rest until she knew in her heart that he was alright. She covered her nightslip with the cape that hung by her bedroom door. The days were warmer now, but the night winds could still cut right through to the bone if you weren't careful. But the walk to Rhett's shack was a quick one that she made on bare feet. She cursed herself halfway through it, the half-frozen blades of grass sending familiar pangs through the balls of her feet. The wood of his front porch wasn't much kinder. \n\nIt was here that Alma froze. He would be asleep. She would be waking him. Asking him to open the door on a broken ankle. She half considered turning around and heading back to where she belonged. It wasn't proper of her to be out this late at night. But her knuckles found themselves rapping against his door, regardless. \n\n\"Rhett?\" She called quietly. \"Are you awake?\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Spider heard the knock first, rousing from her sleep on the pillow next to her owner's head. The depression of the pillow in turn woke Rhett, who blinked into the dark of the shack, bleary at first, then suddenly startled. He wrenched himself upright too quick, met with an urgent chorus of pain that echoed down from his jaw, to neck, to ribs, then to his bad arm as he absently tried to put weight on it to get off the bed, and lastly his ankle as he took a delirious step towards the door. \n\n\"Shit,\" He hissed, squeezing his eyes tight for a moment as the pain receded. Hobbling down from the low platform that elevated his bedroom from the kitchen, he followed Spider past the stove to Alma's voice. \n\n\"Alma?\" He called, before he could even unlock the door. He swung it open. While Alma was bundled in her cape, Rhett stood before her, less clothed than she'd likely ever seen him. His feet were bare, as was his torso, save for the angry red scars that ran down from his neck in parallel claw lines, and the sickly bruise-yellow haze that had evidenced his broken ribs. The hairs on his chest and belly were fine and mousy brown, and his thin frame suggested the presence of muscle even though much of his toning had been lost to a combination of stress, malnourishment, and injury. A pair of loose linen pants were synched around his waist with a frayed drawstring, hanging low enough below his navel to betray the parentheses of his hip bones just there above the waistband. \n_ _\n\n\"Come in here, come in. Are you alright?\" Rhett ushered her inside, instinctually curling an arm around her shoulders. He was at war with himself: blinking away remnants of odd dreams, fending off yawns, scraping his fingers through his messy hair to appear presentable. Most of his mind was still submerged in sleep, and he was having trouble reconciling her presence.\n\n\"You ain't sleepwalkin', are ya?\" The absurdity brought a bit of smirk to his lips. The other option, of course, was that she'd come here willingly.Usually she had food with her, or a snippet of a project to discuss. Alma *Always* Came armed with an excuse for her visits, but here, in the dead of night, she seemed without one. Getting ahead of himself, Rhett's heart skipped. Was she here because she wanted to see him? His half-slumbering mind was already placing them together in his bed, falling back into dreams together, reliving the nights Alma had spent curled beside him in his sick bed, except this time he could hold her freely. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "As soon as she heard his voice call for her, the tension left her shoulders. He was alive. He was well. He was opening the door. He was half dressed. \n\n*Oh, good LORD.*\n\nAt first, the way her eyes combed over his frame was purely innocent. It was hard not to trace the newly formed scars as they flowed from his neck down to the bruising of his still-healing ribs. His cast was level with his torso, so she *Naturally* Caught a glimpse of the hairs that trailed from his chest down to his— *Focus!*\n\n\"Th-thank you,\" What a *Wretched* Time for her stutter to rear its head. His arm wrapped around her should have been a balm, not a fire. \"I'm alright. A-And, no, I ain't sleep walkin.\" That joke did have her laughing a little, dispelling some of the nervous energy she'd carried through the doorway with her. The shack he'd made into a proper home had a way of doing that to her. Here, surrounded by whispers labor he'd poured into the drywall and furniture itself, Alma felt secure. It was warm and dry and her feet were grateful for it. She took a second to wipe her feet so she didn't drag grass everywhere. She always treated it like it was a proper place. It deserved nothing less. \n\n\"I-,\" She paused, knowing how childish she was about to sound. \"- had a nightmare. Worse'n usual one, anyway,\" She explained as Dog weaved himself through the door before it could shut behind them with the locks slid back into place. The great big bloodhound yawned and flopped himself down in front of the woodstove like he usually did, his jowls flattening into puddles around him. He seemed to say: *My shift's over. You take over now.* \n_ _\n\nAlma made it a point not to look at Rhett. His state of undress wasn't something she should allow herself to be so affected by. She'd seen shirtless men before plenty of times, be it working out in the fields or base jumping into the blue holes. But this was *Rhett*. Her Rhett. The same one who'd been confessing his love for her in a drug-induced haze a few weeks back. The one whose sentiment she was still working through to return. She couldn't afford to let herself think on it - or the way those pants sat dangerously on his hips - too long. \n\n\"I just... Needed to see you's all.\" Her hands went for his uninjured one, her slender fingers wrapping around his like a lifeline. Like that was precisely where her hand belonged even at this hour. Her cape parted around her arms, revealing to him that she herself was in a state of relative undress. Just a black night slip that was hemmed just a bit lower than the knees. \"Needed to know you was okay. It sure was easier when you were back at the big house.\" Her voice lifted in another soft laugh.\n\n\"I'm awful sorry I made you get out of bed. Here, lemme help you walk back.\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "Sleep drunk and unconfident in the fact that he wasn't actually dreaming, Rhett barely caught the way Alma looked at him. *Looked.* Had she ever given him that kind of attention? He liked it, and soon thereafter this realization, became ashamed at his enjoyment. She was stuttering, he realized, and didn't that usually mean she was overcome? With what, though? \n\nSpider untangled herself from Alma's ankles as Dog made his entrance. Immediately, the little black cat was wide awake and puffed up, scrabbling along the floor to pounce on Dog as he rolled over by the stove. She had one of his ears in her mouth, her back feet kicking playfully at his shoulder. Dog shifted and she rolled off of him, landing in a deposit of ash near the fire hook. Dusty and disgraced, she raced off back into the dark of the workshop, ears back and tail like a bottlebrush. A muffled clattering sound followed her disappearance, but Rhett paid it no mind, his drowsy attention focused completely on Alma. \n\nOnly because of how he'd been watching for her eyes to make their way back to him, he noticed how she was looking anywhere *But*, and finally he gained the sense to be self conscious of his bare chest. Every option to cover up now seemed awkward and sudden, so he opted to put his fists in his pockets, hunching forward sheepishly in a half-shrugged attempt at smallness. He was doing a poor job of listening and responding and watching her all at once, and only caught the word *Nightmare* Past another stifled yawn. When she reached for his hand, he understood what to do, though, unburdened by the pressure to respond verbally. She'd opened the door for touch, and he twined their fingers, immediately lifting her hand to kiss the back of it, brushing lips over her knuckles: perhaps indulgent as more of an act of self-soothing than it might have been for Alma. He hoped she didn't find it offensive. \n_ _\n\nRhett would *Never* Be too sleepy to notice the way her cape parted. Even with his eyes mostly closed, he would have seen the dark of her night slip reveal itself. Now, he was the one staring, dragging his glassy-eyed gaze from her hem to collarbones. He stepped a bit closer to her, to the soundtrack of her voice so low and private. \n\n\"It *Were* Easier, weren't it? Got spoiled, bein' so close whenever I wanted ta see ya.\" He replied, his own voice down a notch. \n\"I'm okay, Alma. I'm sorry your brain made'ja think I weren't.\" He squeezed her hand, letting her lead him back up to bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress and looked up at her. \n\n\"Now *I* Gotta see that you're okay. Come on, now. Set down, love.\" His smile was weak but warm, and finally, he succumbed to a yawn as he patted the bed beside himself. \n\n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Alma Cooper",
"message": "The whisper of Rhett's lips against the skin on her knuckles set a soft warmth glowing in Alma's cheeks. The action was as chaste as every other thing they'd done. Alma truly meant it when she described Rhett as a gentleman. Small gestures like these reminded her she was safe. No, that she was loved. His unyielding patience with her was the world to her. *He* Was her world. And the nightmare had reminded her of how fragile that world was. Even now, with the uneven *Thud* Of his wrapped foot on the floor as they crossed to his bed, she couldn't help but wonder at how lucky he was to be alive. The both of them, really. \n\nOnly Alma's scar had healed up in a matter of weeks, and he was still fighting to walk right. \n\nIf she wasn't so focused on his state of being, the low tone of his voice might have made her blush harder. She was attuned to his every shift, hanging off the slightest pitch in his voice or the way he inhaled before he spoke as a language in its own right. She fretted over him as he eased himself down on the mattress, wishing he would use her as a crutch to help some of the ache. \n\n\"You're okay,\" She repeated, but she didn't sound like she believed it. Her eyes were scanning his for any unspoken pain as if she feared his wounds might have somehow reopened from the nightmare *She* Had experienced. As if another beast had launched its way through his window just to tear off his bandages and destroy him anew. But all she found in the coffee-brown depths of his gaze was warmth, just like always. Exhaustion, sure, but warmth. Trust. Affection. \n_ _\n\nThat was only compounded by the way he called her *Love*. It was a word that still sent her heart pounding at the slightest whisper of it. Those four letters held power over her. He bade her sit and her fingers undid the clasp on her cape so she could drape it over the foot of his bed without a breath of protest like she might have had he not had such a grip on her heart. A small voice whispered in the back of her mind she didn't belong here. This bed was his, not hers. This was improper. It was late. Bonnie and Linda would question her whereabouts come morning. Miss Alma Maria Cooper didn't behave like this. \n\nBut he called her love and the spell was cast.\n\nStill, unable to ignore her instinct to flee, Alma perched like a feather on the edge of his bed, her legs coiled beneath her and ready to sprint at the slightest provocation. Her knee, exposed now thanks to the shortness of the slip she'd worn to bed, brushed against his leg. Her shoulders were now bare save for the two small straps holding the [slip]( in place. Her nervousness at being placed in such a precarious position was communicated in the way she pressed her palms together in her lap, refusing to look him in the eye *Again*. \n_ _\n\n\"I'm okay, Rhett. Better now that I seen't you, actually. Knowin' you're breathin' is all's I really needed. You walkin' n' talkin's even better still.\" There had been times where the question of his breathing would wrench her from her sleep just so she could place a slender hand on his broken chest and feel the soft shift of his every inhalation, her forehead pressed to his cold knuckles. She would wake in the morning in that same position on the floor, an awful ache in her neck but *Knowing* That every second spent by his side was a second longer that he was still alive. \n\n\"Really-,\" She paused a moment, deliberating how she might return the affection that one word alone had set alight in her bones without repeating it back to him. Finally, she settled on, \"-*Honey*, I'm okay. A little ashamed'a myself, of course. I... I know you're alright. N' you need your rest to heal up quick, n' here I am disturbin' you just cause I cain't talk myself down off a ledge after one bad dream. So, I'm sorry. I should go.\""
},
{
"author": "RHETT TERLIng",
"message": "\"Jest you watch– I kin even do a handstand now you're here.\" He laughed, low and silly. His posture was slumped, even more than usual as he craned his head down to be even with Alma, watching her speak with a sleepy fascination. Still, she avoided his eye, and in the dark of the witching hour, he found it– of all things– endearing. She'd come here to check on him, and she was being adorably bashful about it, her hands pressed like a prayer between her knees. \n\nA warm, appreciative sound hummed from his throat as she offered him a pet name of his own. He leaned his shoulder towards hers, and turned to kiss her hair. \n\"I wish you wasn't sorry,\" He told her, \"And I wish you'd stay a spell longer. You jest got here.\" Rhett complained, aware at some level that he was showcasing the softness of his underbelly to a degree that may be unattractive, but he truly couldn't help it. His sleepiness was strong as moonshine in how it loosened his tongue and weighted his hands. \n\n\"Plus, you walked all the way out here in bare feet. They must be ice. Here,\" He sat up a bit straighter only to peel back the quilt around her, making space for her to tuck her feet up into the warmed bed should she so desire. \n_ _```\n\nRhett yawned again, stretching his good arm until a joint popped in his shoulder. He winced, shifted to tuck a leg up under himself, and turned fully towards Alma. Idly, he lifted a hand to smooth back her hair– tangled from her battle with bad dreams. From her temple to her ear, he combed it with his fingers, veering from the knots he encountered. At the ends, he organized the chaotic strands together across her back. In doing so, he pulled back the curtain around her shoulders. \n\n\"It's a pretty thing you're wearin'. Black suits you.\" He murmured, withdrawing his hand to lean back on it, openly admiring her, his drowsy smile curling crooked on his lips, \"But I ain't seen you wear a color that don't.\"\n_ _"
}
] | 648.5 | 4,136 |
329.166667 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Wandering along a thin road leading just a little ways away from the town's center Riley bounced and bobbed his head. His company sure had a knack for birdsong and with one hand holding Beaux's gnawed guitar case and the other a bag of various vegetables. In all honesty Riley didn't expect to be having someone over and he knew his grandma wouldn't be either but all and all he was determined to make the most of it. As they got closer and the sounds of bawking chickens wafted towards the pair through the air Riley was quick to make small talk, hoping to maybe let Beaux know what to expect.\n\n\"Ya see that house with the coop and hutch in the yard?\" Riley asked without really waiting much for a reply, gesturing towards the Sutton home with his head. \"That's my place! I guess you already know by now but I live with my granny and I know she'll be happy to finally see a new face under her roof if she isn't in town. I hope you're not afraid of chickens or anything. I don't know why you would be but just a fair warning cuz we've got plenty.\" He continued with a lighthearted laugh, gladly ruminating on his pride and joy which was his flock of chickens. \n\nThe home itself was pretty basic, just one floor and it almost looked like a quilt in some places, damage patched up or covered with whatever they could get a hold of, caring far more for structural support than pristine looks. A backyard without a fence held a small hutch of rabbits and a coop of chickens, a small vegetable garden framing one side of the house. \n\nLeading his company Riley occasionally looked back to make sure Beaux was keeping up fine or needed help, his fists still vaguely itching with rage at whatever caused such injuries.\n\nHe knew nature was unfair and cared not for one simple individual, a neutrality that he felt like worshipping or respecting in some strange way, but it still unfortunately hurt when people he knew were affected. \n\nReaching the back porch a figure sat in a rocking chair, an old woman with a stocky build and gray hair held back into a loose bun. In her hand was a plain glass of water, a walking cane rested up against a table by her side and her eyes casually scanning the horizon behind cloudy glasses. It wasn't long before she caught sight of Riley and Beaux once they stepped foot into the open backyard, recognizing her grandson but only being able to infer regarding his new companion. Setting her glass of water down and slowly rising out of her chair Riley's grandmother was quick to throw a jab at her kin.\n\n\"Riles, why'd you gotta lead this lad all the way out here? I thought you were just gonna visit the boy, not go fetch.\" She scolded, a smirk slowly developing on her sun beaten face. While she was a bit light hearted and playful there was a hint of concern in her question, being serious and fibbing all at once. Before Riley could really protest or defend himself she was quick to start talking again, this time a bit warmer than before. \"Ah, that can wait, now we've got company. You're Beaux, aren't 'cha son? I'm Bobbie Sutton but feel free to call me Granny B, I'm at least glad you're still upright given what I heard happened.\" She remarked now fully facing Beaux, giving him a welcoming smile."
},
{
"author": "Beaux T. LeBlanc",
"message": "\"Ahhh, okay! Chickens aren't a problem, let me know if you ever need a hand. Just let me know if you've got any particular trouble makers to look out for. Cozy little place you've got here though.\" *Beaux was able to turn down the tunes for a moment and keep from shimmying and shaking. He loved little places like this. He might've resided in the city for a while, but the rustic charm of rural areas held a special place in his heart. It was his roots. He could really appreciate a green pasture, the sounds of nature and smell of livestock, and a humble-honest home. Things just seemed simpler, and more divine.* \n\n*Beaux could only smile,smile,smile, feeling the sun reach his skin through the shade of the trees. Hearing Grandma start to tease, a little snicker would escape.* \n\n\"Yes Ma'am, Beaux Thomas LeBlanc. Good to meet you Ms. B.\" *Beaux would greet her with a formal bow. Of course he was doing it in a lighthearted, flamboyant sort of way.* \n\n\"Yeah, I had a little run in with trouble. I was lucky enough that it didn't do me worse than it did. I appreciate y'all being kind enough to send goodies over to me though. I figured I'd come bother y'all for a bit. This gentleman mentioned something about a banjo, figured I might be able to squeeze a couple tunes out of him.\" *Beaux would lean over to jostle against Riley.* \n\n\"If y'all ever need anything, don't be afraid to holler.\"\n\n*Sticks and early falling leaves crackled beneath his feet,a wicker basket stacked with goodies hung in his hand, and butterflies fluttered in his stomach.* \n\n*Beaux had made his way out to the quaint little homestead again. Thank goodness it wasn't to run for shelter from the horrors of the night this time, but more so for pleasantries.*\n\n*He'd check about in the usual spots, the chicken coop, out in the garden, on the porch. Looking for a familiar little ginger to flag down. He was in a happy mood, and had decided to bring a little lunch to share, he figured it was the least he could do.* \n\n\"Riley~!\" *Beaux would playfully throw a pretty vibrato into his voice* \"Where are you?~\" \n\n*It felt oddly like a game of tag, or hide and seek.*"
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Riley had been recently discharged from the doctor's care, the bandage over his face removed to reveal a mostly healed series of three cuts dangerously close to one eye. Luckily the eye seemed to be fine, it was his skin that was most affected. It was almost guaranteed that a scar would form, a constant reminder of tragedy. He was delighted to get back home, the window simply boarded up while they waited for a replacement and the blood scrubbed from the floorboards to the best of their ability.\n\nAt the moment he was out in the garden, struggling with just one hand available and difficulty twisting and turning like he used to without pain. He'd just began to try and harvest some winter squash before the first frost and some beets to pickle for later but some pain and maneuvering difficulties was making it quite challenging.\n\nAs soon as he heard Beaux's familiar voice Riley's head jerked up and in his direction, a huge smile swiftly splitting his cheeks. Waving with a gloved, bandaged hand, he tried to get his attention and beckon him over. \"Beaux! What're you doing out here? Your side doing better?\" He called over in his direction, eventually rising to his feet slowly to meet them halfway. Riley resisted running over and giving him a big hug, being delighted to know that he was okay and up and about. It was a wonderful distraction. He felt like his mind had been so cluttered and frantic lately but seeing Beaux made it all calm down even if just for a moment."
},
{
"author": "Beaux T. LeBlanc",
"message": "\"Eh, a little tender. But I'll live.\" *Beaux assured. Even though it kind of hurt to breathe. But, he's been through worse. He'd close the gap to give a gentle little side hug, careful not to jostle Riley's injured wing.* \n\n\"I just wanted to see that you're okay. Things being crazy as they are. Coming by to feed you and offer a pair of helping hands.\" *Beaux would rattle the little basket, covered by a tasseled blanket.* \n\n\"I got you some apples, cheese, crackers, lil sandwiches, bread, just little goodies. Drinks, Maybe a chocolate or two~.\" *Beaux would shuffle through it for a moment before looking back up to Riley.* \n\n\"And you, sha baby, look at you. All tore up but still working away. Tough little thing. Why don't we go sit for a minute? I'll help pick up any slack for lost time, so it's a win-win.\" *Beaux gently urged.* \n\n*He felt sort of helpless. He wished he could just rub his fingers on Riley's cheek and have the scars fade away. He had his own struggles to survive, but Riley was always there for him somehow. So it was bitter seeing him battered up. Made him wish he could do more, but he was here now.* \n\n*Was he just staring during that entire mental monologue? Quick! Play it off!* \n\n\"You uh... Know of a good shady spot out here?\""
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "In all honesty Riley didn't know how Beaux did it, getting injured time and time again but somehow hopping back up to his feet. With a sly smile and gladly returning Beaux's hug Riley rolled his eyes, not entirely believing that he was just a little tender and nothing else. Turning back to face Beaux straight on his thoughts of injuries and tragedy faded away into the idea of a good meal, Riley's eyes lighting up once he was directed to the little basket before him.\n\nThe list of things Beaux brought him went on and on, his mind sticking to and repeating the word 'chocolate' over and over. It'd been forever since he ate chocolate and he never realized how much he missed it until it was brought up. Brightly peering back over to Beaux once all the goodies were announced he couldn't help but want to hug him again and squeal like an excited child. However, he held back, instead running in place to disperse his excitement and delight.\n\nIn all honesty his mind was so focused on food that he hardly registered being called a 'tough little thing', a comment that otherwise would've made him blush and puff his chest out with pride. It wasn't until Beaux went silent and began to stare that Riley focused in, his own eyes meeting those of Beaux's. It reminded him of the time they first met, Riley tossing a hag stone into his old guitar case and striking up conversation with a newcomer. \n\nRiley was staring too, reminiscing on everything they'd done together and how much the world around them had changed since then. When Beaux started talking again Riley caught himself, glancing away in slight embarrassment. \"Uh, yeah! There's a tree right over there, I think it'll do the trick.\" He responded, instinctually reaching out to grab Beaux's hand and lead him towards a nearby tree right outside the yard. It still had plenty of leaves on it, just enough to give good shade. Before long Riley plopped down on the ground and patted the ground beside him, inviting Beaux to do the same."
},
{
"author": "Beaux T. LeBlanc",
"message": "*Riley's excitement was infectious, it had Beaux splitting into a big toothy smile. He felt good knowing he'd brightened up the other's day just a bit.* \n\n*As he felt his hand held onto, The butterflies in his stomach warmly fluttered up into his heart. He didn't realize at first, but he was actually holding his breath in an attempt to not yelp. But, he'd take out the blanket and gracefully flap it out to lay down over the grass. Taking in a deep breath, he'd plop down and let out a relieved sigh.* \n\n*He'd take a second to neatly lay out the little spread from the basket, pop open the colas, before he'd sit back against the tree and just admire the other. Grinning away.* \n\n\"You make me curious Riley. You know that?\" *Beaux would ask as he reached for his pocket knife. Slicing a portion of the cheese and an apple into little bite sized chunks. Laying them out in an aesthetically pleasing fashion.* \n\n\"In a good way, I should say. You're just... Riley. So unapologetically yourself. I kinda love it.\" *Beaux would glow, chomping on an apple slice.*"
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Taking a seat at first on the grass before scooting onto the blanket Riley looked at Beaux expectantly. He felt like a little kid again, prancing and jumping up and down while he waited for a sweet treat or some sort of gift on a holiday. While he watched Beaux remove some food the thought occurred to him that Beaux's hair looked kind of like sweet cream dolloped on top of a cake. Man, he really was hungry if that was the first thing that came to mind. Still, Beaux rocked the look, he always had. \n\nReaching into the basket after Beaux grabbed his things Riley was swift to go straight for one of the sandwiches. This seemed far more fancy than he was used to or at least compared to what he made on the regular. In all honesty Riley was the type of person who would eat anything you put in front of him and didn't even check to see what the sandwich was made of before he took a big bite. Everything felt right with the world, for the first time in a long time. He was really nervous for what would wreck his peace this time but overall was having a pretty good time.\n\nWith a mouth full of bread and whatever else he just shoved into his pie hole Riley was taken aback by a comment from Beaux. Glancing over in his direction Riley made a small hum and tilted his head, confused at first before he continued his thought. Swallowing his food as Beaux gave him a rather unique compliment Riley couldn't help but blush as most compliments made him do. However, this also felt different, it somehow meant more. Rubbing the back of his neck and laughing a bit he tried to play it off.\n\n\"Yeah, I guess I don't know how else to be.\" He chuckled in response. \"I'd have to argue that you're the same way. You're fresh, you bring something new to the table, it's nice.\" He continued, his gaze turning away before rapidly trying to change the subject, afraid that his head would explode from all this compliment giving. \"Say, d'ya still have that hag stone I gave you when I first saw you on the street?\" He asked, genuinely curious. \"I won't be mad if you got rid of it, it could've been bad luck.\""
},
{
"author": "Beaux T. LeBlanc",
"message": "\"Aw, thank you. I try to be original.\" *Beaux would chime in response as he tucked his head to the side, using his shoulder to push up his glasses. Happily watching as Riley dug into the B.L.T.*\n\n\"Of course~, it stays in my guitar case. That way I don't lose it or break it. It can't be that bad of luck. I'm still breathing after all.\" *Beaux shrugged, thinking it over for a moment.* \n\n\"I'm almost certain this is inappropriate for me to bring up. But...\" *He cleared his throat. Distracting himself by crinkling open a chocolate bar.* \n\n\"You're just, a good guy. You have this land, you run all sorts of chicken business, take care of Gram Gram, and still find time to plant a garden, cook, do laundry—\" *Beaux stopped himself.* \n\n\"I'm just curious why there isn't someone there to help take care of **You**? Especially in times like these.\" \n*Beaux posed the question with sympathy in his voice. Leaning over to offer the other a lil piece of chocolate from his open palm.*"
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Picking his sandwich from the blanket after he'd set it down to gawk and fidget Riley took another bite before Beaux revealed just where he kept the hag stone. Riley paused as Beaux spoke and even after he was done, not quite knowing how to register it. Beaux managed to spin things in a completely different direction than where Riley had gone. Maybe the hag stone wasn't bad luck, maybe it was keeping him from further harm. The thought almost brought him to tears just thinking about how lucky both of them were to still be here.\n\nThankfully Beaux chiming in distracted him enough to not start bawling. The compliments came in droves, the mention of how he cared for his chickens and his granny, the confirmation that he was doing good things, it all felt overwhelming but in the best way. It was as if he was on a huge slide, speeding up as time went on before it made a sharp turn into a place Riley didn't think about too often.\n\nHis face was already a bit rosy from the praise but now that he felt the warmth of someone caring about him it was growing more akin to the shade of a ripe strawberry. Riley turned away and set his mostly eaten sandwich back down, blindly reaching out to grab the chocolate Beaux offered. It took a lot of thinking and mustering up scraps of courage to speak on the matter again, chucking in the cube of chocolate into his mouth while his gears turned.\n\n\"I'll be honest with you, I wasn't the best person before. I wasn't always like this.\" Riley finally began, daring to turn back to look at Beaux but not directly in the eyes. \"I used to steal, used to scare little kids for fun, used to shut out my family and anyone who tried getting close. I called myself the 'Wild man', something that did bad things, something I thought hurt and stole people. This is just me making up for being a bratty kid, especially now that it's just me and my Granny B.\""
},
{
"author": "Beaux T. LeBlanc",
"message": "\"Beaux very much enjoyed watching Riley all flustered and red in the face. He wouldn't tease him for it, but it definitely kept a smile plastered onto him.* \n\n*He'd take on a more somber tone listening to Riley speak on his past. It sort of hit home. He had evolved a fair bit, and had similar struggles. Just in his own way. He'd scoot closer to curl up against Riley and hold him in a soft embrace, his head falling to rest on Riley's shoulder in an attempt to comfort and console.* \n\n\"Hon, I wish you knew how much I can relate.\" *Beaux sighed. It made him reminisce on his life as a train hopping vagabond and rowdy rebellious musician.* \n\n\"I'm no Saint myself. I've done some pretty stupid things running from my past, just to survive, just chasing a good time, just because. But, it all adds up to make us who we are today. For better or worse.\" *Beaux would ponder a moment, nuzzling in a little closer as he found himself comfortable.*\n\n*Then he'd break the silence, with a few timid words.* \n\n\"Have you ever had a boyfriend?\""
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Riley fell silent when he finished his whole monologue, guilt and a feeling of loneliness wafting through the wind with his words and filling his head. However, Beaux's movement closer and eventual embrace made it falter for a moment, Riley's body tensing for a moment before relaxing. Beaux thankfully rested his head on the should that didn't still have a gaping wound in it or a broken collarbone. Riley honestly expected at least a twinge of pain only for it to never come. With his free hand Riley gentle held Beaux's arm while he listened, every word pushing tears closer and closer to escape. \n\nBeaux was right, that much was completely true. With a dear companion nuzzled up beside him and the notion that he wasn't a inherently bad person for just doing some regrettable things in the past Riley finally cracked. Tilting his head to the side Riley tried resting his own against Beaux's, his free hand reaching for Beaux's own, a few tears falling along the way. \"Thanks, I needed that.\" He'd whisper, a small smile creeping across his cheeks.\n\nQuietly the subject would change, a question out of the blue that caught Riley off guard. Did he ever have a boyfriend? His face, slightly reddening again, went still and neutral while he thought and gathered more courage and confidence to speak once more. \"Um... No. I've never dated anyone, actually.\" Riley chuckled nervously, having an idea where this was going but also being in denial. \"I mean, I could have a boyfriend, if they loved me back that is. Have, uh... Have *You* Had a boyfriend?\" He awkwardly asked, equally timid and unsure of his steps."
},
{
"author": "Beaux T. LeBlanc",
"message": "\"Of course, I try.\" *Beaux would chime in response, gladly intertwining Riley's fingers and his own. Letting his eyes drift closed a moment to just take in the warmth of the scattered rays of sunlight and the company he rested with.* \n\n\"I've had...\" *Beaux squinted his eyes shut a bit tighter for a moment as he pondered it.* \n\n\"I've had little things, but it was always just fun. Idiotic fun. I wouldn't really say I've seriously dated someone.\" *Beaux answered, his toes fidgeting against the inside of his shoe as his brain tried to process where to go with this.* \n\n\"I'm kind of a mess, and I'll probably have to follow work around but...-\" *Beaux sat his head up to look towards Riley, using his sleeve to wipe the tears.* \n\n\"I just think we have a good thing and as long as we're here to help pull each other up, it'd be cool to try this boyfriend thing out.\" *Beaux put it out there.* \n\n\"I don't want you to feel obligated. I just want to do it if it feels right for both of us, you know?\" *He would ensure. Now that that was handled, it was time for the hard part. Waiting for a response. The suspense. It had him biting at the inside of his cheek.*"
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Riley listened quietly, not entirely being surprised that Beaux had some partners for short periods of time. He was quite charming after all and it was hard not to imagine someone else being smitten and willing to mess around for a little bit. \n\nAs Beaux looked up and wiped some of his tears away Riley turned to face him as well, twisting his neck over to the best of his ability. For a moment he overdid it, feeling a twang of pain in his clavicle, but being quick to correct it and settle for only being able to partially face Beaux. With each word and at last the final offer given Riley could feel his heart burst with joy and anxiety alike. He wanted to say yes a million times over but resigned himself to silence while Beaux kept talking, holding back a squeal and giddy laugh. \n\nWith a joyous smile Riley began to readjust himself, carefully prying Beaux's arms from his torso so that he could turn around and fully face his companion. Once he was settled Riley grabbed Beaux's hand again, looking into eyes equally nervous and full of suspense. \"You don't have to ask me twice.\" Riley began, trying to keep his voice steady as his smile widened. \"I'd be more than happy to give this a go.\"\n\nMoving his hand up towards Beaux's face Riley leaned in, attempting to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. \"I won't lie, I'm a little nervous, but believe me I'll do all I can to make this work. I'll be more than honored to love someone as creative and brave as you, Beaux.\""
},
{
"author": "Beaux T. LeBlanc",
"message": "*Beaux would move to sit criss cross opposite of the other, and just bask in the moment. It felt like morning Rays of sunshine were shining straight onto his heart. Just such a pleasant relieving moment.* \n\n*He let his eyes fall closed and his smile spread wide, just letting the other work his magic. Enjoying the plap of a kiss onto his forehead.* \n\n\"Shut up.~\" *He playfully chirped, grabbed the other by his collar and pulled Riley in to really seal the deal. Using his lips to steal a proper kiss.* \n\n*He'd take his time and let himself drift off, and relax. To hear the wind in the trees, to feel the sun's high, to be like clouds drifting in the sky, to just be.*"
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Riley felt his heart and mind soar into the clouds as they both expressed their affection, the weight of his guilt and anger at a cruel world fading away even if for a moment. To be pulled forward however and given a kiss right on the lips seemed to bring Riley back to Earth, letting out a surprised yelp before the kiss made its purchase.\n\nFor a while Riley was frozen, not entirely knowing how to react as his mind screamed a million obscenities, unable to process this event that felt like a fairy tale come true. Eventually Riley leaned in, letting the kiss linger and let his body and mind drift away.\n\nAs with all things it couldn't last forever. After what felt like a millennia Riley pulled back to look into Beaux's eyes, wanting to stay in this very moment forever. At last his excitement couldn't be suppressed any longer, Riley letting out a squeal and a lighthearted laugh. Rushing to embrace Beaux with one arm he almost pushed the other over or at least rushed in a bit too fast. Who could blame him, he was just too happy to not be a bit clumsy."
},
{
"author": "Beaux T. LeBlanc",
"message": "*Beaux just cackled and tried to steady himself as Riley tumbled into him. Just barely managing to stay upright and support the other. He'd hold Riley tight and give him another little kiss on his crown.*\n\n\"Careful there~.\" *He'd advise with a smile, gingerly curling his fingers up in a mess of red hair. Just admiring the other, enjoying a cuddle and letting him have his sweet moment.* \n\n*He'd pick up an apple slice for himself, and a second he'd fly through the air like a paper airplane en route to Riley's lips.* \n\n\"So, what all are we harvesting this season?\""
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "As he tumbled into his now proclaimed partner Riley was a tad surprised at his own speed and energy. While Beaux held both of them steady Riley couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed at almost knocking Beaux over. This quickly faded away though and before long a guiltless apology escaped his mouth, Beaux swiftly going back to offering affection and what he percieved as a teasing remark. As Riley was kissed on the forehead and given a good ruffle of his hair his smile grew even larger for a moment, a small laugh accompanying it.\n\nEventually he leaned back and took a seat on the blanket again, sheepishly brushing some hair out of his face. The apple slice came as a complete surprise and Riley's first instinct was honestly to swat it away. This wasn't out of hatred for apples, he loved them actually, but he didn't completely register just what was flying towards his face at first. By the time it was almost to his face though he realized it was both an apple slice and something he was meant to eat. A weird combination between the instinct of batting the object away and grabbing food to eat commenced, Riley fumbling with the slice for a moment before at last firmly grabbing ahold of it.\n\nTaking a bite of about half of it with a reddened face Riley perked up to hear Beaux's question. Their little confession and picnic actually made him forget that he was gardening at first, this reminding him of the actual work to be done. \"Oh, yeah! The veggies and stuff!\" He exclaimed between chews, swallowing the piece of apple before continuing. \"I was gonna try and get some squash and beets harvested before the first frost comes in. The squash we've got tends to go bad once the frost hits it so it's better to get ahead of the curve.\""
},
{
"author": "Beaux T. LeBlanc",
"message": "\"Gotcha, gotcha.\" *Beaux mentally noted, looking over to the garden for a moment. Making a mental note of the work to be done while finishing off a couple slices of apple before they'd brown against the air. Opting to save some of his snacks for later.* \n\n\"Let's get this garden work knocked out, get things in order, then-if you're lucky-later we can get back to being lovey dovey as you like.\" *Beaux would lean over, and grab ahold of Riley to plant a smooch on his cheek before a retreat up to his feet.*\n\n\"Sound like a plan sweetheart?\" *Beaux would offer a hand and a smile to help the other rise up.*"
}
] | 310 | 5,925 |
269.5 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Dusk was soon to fall on Briar Ridge, the quaint little town once peaceful and calm now struck by an insurmountable force, that of monsters beyond their wildest dreams. Well, they were easy to name and describe, but nothing could've prepared them for their violent introduction and small eccentricities. Riley and many others now had witnessed them firsthand, most leaving the encounter with scars and bruises to show for it. Riley was no different, one of his arms still in a sling and a head that occasionally was struck by waves of pain. Still, he pushed forward, refusing to let that slow him down. In fact, he fought even harder now, focusing on what he saw and becoming determined to put an end to it. The horrid smell of the beast still lingered in his nostrils, foul miasmas that conjured forth nightmares and regurgitated the image of the creature itself. He would never forget, he couldn't forget. \n\nDaily life was painfully mundane, today being no different. Clothes hung on a length of twine strung taught between trees, overalls and button up shirts making up the majority of the items as his grandma did hers just the other day. Sitting in the grass below the billowing batch of damp clothes Riley held a journal close, doing his best to scribble designs of a new mask into it for when he was able to carve again. Near it was additional drawings of the creature, many pages prior also containing it and various notes regarding potential weaknesses or universal dislikes. Some notes were scribbled out, those often containing mentions of his brother in comparison to the recently missing Estep couple and the appearance of the wolfen monster. The moon overhead was a new waxing gibbous, one step away from another full moon, the promise of carnage making Riley's skin crawl each time he glanced at the sky."
},
{
"author": "Charlie Marsh",
"message": "Charlie had always been somewhat wary of dusk. Less light meant less visibility, the need to keep on higher alert than normal. The woods were dangerous, and it'd only get them killed if they were cocky. Here, though? On a little farmstead? They could let their guard down, just a little bit- enough to lessen the almost constant furrow in their brow. Caution was still warranted, of course- they could recognize the sounds of chickens somewhere, and those little bastards always like to make a ruckus.\n\nIt'll be simple: they'll sneak up, grab enough for a new outfit, leave their dirtiest clothes behind, and run. They've done this numerous times before, how would now be any different?\n\nThe *Snap* Of a branch under their boot brings them to a complete stop, shoulders tensed and eyes wide. A bad start, but they could salvage this, as long as no one w-\n\nMaybe they'd been a little *Too* Focused on the chance at clean clothes, considering that they failed to register *The actual fucking person that sat by the goddamn clothesline.*\n\n***Move, you idiot. Run!***\n\nAlas, Charlie continues to stand there, praying that they could simply melt into the foliage below."
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Riley was too busy scribbling and scratching away in his notebook to truly notice Charlie before a stick broke the news, his mind engulfed in a rotten stench and wet animal hair. The chickens at this point were like white noise, even more to muffle the sounds of someone approaching. \n\nWith the sudden snap of a branch right in front of him Riley's head jolted up, his heart jumping up into his throat. His doodling stopped in its tracks and as soon as he caught sight of a particularly guilty looking fellow on the other side of the clothesline Riley was swift to confront the stranger.\n\nWith his own brow furrowed and gut boiling with newfound anger he slowly stood, keeping his eyes staring straight into the new face in front of him. His rising was slow at first, his good arm pushing off of the ground while the one in a sling was helpless to assist. His journal and the granite pencil that came with it rested amongst the grass while he simply stood and looked them up and down, taking it all in.\n\n\"What do you think you're doing?\" Riley finally said firmly, taking a step forward. His patience was thin as it was after the attack and to think that someone had the stupidity and hubris to try stealing something right under his nose was easily infuriating. Strands of long ginger hair fell over his face as he took the step, being too focused on the wannabe thief to really care about moving it out of the way."
},
{
"author": "Charlie Marsh",
"message": "The first thing that Charlie's mind registers is that the man approaching is injured, yet still has enough confidence (or foolhardiness) to approach. The second, and infinitely more pressing, is just how *Pissed* He looks.\n\n\"I don't- I'm-\" They shrink in on themself, their words stumbling over one another in their fear. \"I didn't see you here, I just needed-\"\n\nCharlie stops, taking in a ragged breath. If they ran, would he follow? Would he try to sic the entire town upon them, the would-be thief? What do they even *Do* To thieves here? At best, they rationalize that they would have to leave another town, to try their hand somewhere else. At worst? Prison, perhaps. Maybe they'd get their tail handed to them and have to nurse a few cuts and bruises in a cell. Maybe worse.\n\n\"I needed pants,\" They finally say, voice small and trembling. \"I don't have enough money for food and new clothes, and all of mine are dirty or full of holes. I thought it would be okay, I'm sorry.\""
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "The reaction of this would be thief was a bit surprising, Riley's anger faltering for a moment as he observed their increasingly meek behavior. They became like a mouse or rat rather than the sly fox he first perceived them as. Still, much of his frustration still remained even with this new revelation. Riley waited for them to finish their thought, his furrowed brow and flaming gaze softening ever so slightly. \n\n*\"I needed pants.\"*\nPants? Thought it would be okay? Riley stole stuff as a kid but he always knew it wasn't right, that was the point. The stranger very well could've meant something else but in the end their words made this previously black and white issue blur into many shades of gray. \n\nWith a deep sigh and a free hand reaching up to pinch his nose Riley contemplated what to do. This person had no money but he couldn't afford to just give away his stuff for free. Eventually Riley came to some sort of conclusion, releasing the bridge of his nose and turning back to face the stranger for a second. He couldn't keep eye contact for very long as he revealed a compromise.\n\n\"Look, I can't just give my shit away, especially not after these past few full moons. Maybe you could...*Work* For some of them.\" He began hesitantly, his expression fading further away from rage and more towards uncomfortableness. He hated being vulnerable like this. \"With me injured I can't take care of the garden and our chickens like I used to. If you help out around here until I'm back on my feet then I might be willing to give you some of my clothes.\""
},
{
"author": "Charlie Marsh",
"message": "Charlie's gaze darts behind Riley to the clothesline, then to the homestead in the distance. It's a sensible option, something to fill their empty time until they figure out whatever the hell they're going to do in Briar Ridge. However, the mention of the moon gives them pause. Superstition surrounding full moons wasn't something knew to them; hell, Sylvia used to be horrified of them when she was smaller.\n\n***Could do worse than a town with some superstitions.***\n\n\"I can do that.\" They nod, bringing their gaze back to focus on Riley. \"I don't need much, really- just enough to have a clean set of clothes. M-Maybe some food, too, if you can spare any?\"\n\nCharlie thinks for a moment, then adds, \"I can work during the full moon, too- I don't mind working at night.\""
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Riley carefully watched Charlie eye his clothes before moving onto his home, hoping that this stranger wasn't going to make a run for it. To his surprise and delight it seemed they really considered his offer and as they nodded he couldn't help but smile a tad. \"Oh, trust me, if you're working we'll scrounge you up something when you're around.\" Riley reassured them, actually being quite joyous knowing they'd have a new face joining them. However, once they mentioned working during the full moon his smile swiftly faded and his face shifted towards horror. \n\n\"Ohhhhh no, no no no, not on my watch!\" Riley practically scolded, a sense of panic overshadowing any anger he had before. \"Don't you know what happens at night when the moon's full? Do you think I wrecked my shoulder being stupid?\" He began to exclaim with his voice raising in volume. As a nervous habit Riley began to walk from side to side, still keeping his eyes mostly on Charlie. \n\n\"There are these beasts that come out, wolf men or whatever you'd call them! They smell like rot and are hungry as hell!\" Riley continued before swiftly leaning down to grab his journal, attempting to flip through some pages before eventually landing on one of a drawing. It was that of a large creature covered in hair and with plenty of canine features. \"This! You see this?\" He asked, shoving it in Charlie's field of vision. \"*This* Is what comes out on a full moon, seen them myself and my friend has the scars to prove they're real.\""
},
{
"author": "Charlie Marsh",
"message": "Well, that's certainly new.\n\nCharlie stares at the journal, brows furrowing. It's a hard thing to believe, and they're not a particularly superstitious person themselves, but the conviction in Riley's voice is hard to argue against.\n\n\"I haven't been in town long enough to see anything like this,\" They gesture to the open page, \"But it doesn't look... Great. You said you and your friend got hurt by one of these things? Wouldn't something like that kill you?\"\n\nEven if Charlie doesn't *Entirely* Believe Riley, they still have enough sense not to downright say his claims are bullshit. Better to go in with an open mind than to completely shut it all off, yes?\n\n\"...Should you be doing any sort of work with your arm like that?\""
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "It was hard to not interpret Charlie's words and tone as that of disbelief. It understandably made him a tad frustrated but in the end he couldn't really blame them. If you hadn't witnessed it yourself it would be hard for anyone to fully believe it themselves. Hell, Riley didn't before it tore up his friend Beaux time and time again, their strength shown through broken doors and shattered bones. \n\n\"It's tried to kill but we've been lucky so far.\" Riley continued upon Charlie suggesting that the beast would kill more than maim. \"I wouldn't be surprised if some of the missing folk are really dead out there in the woods, though.\" He grimly remarked to finish off his response, closing the book with one hand and gently tossing it back onto the grass below.\n\n*'Should you be doing any sort of work with your arm like that?'*\n\nCharlie's remark echoed in Riley's head, something similar having been said by most of the people he knew. Each time he was face with the same reality he refused to believe, that being the fact that he needed to rest and *Not* Do work. He didn't want to get to yelling at this poor soul like he had many others before, instead taking a deep breath in and feigning a smile. \"Who else is gonna feed the chickens, tend to the garden and do all the other shit needed to keep this place running, hm?\" Riley asked rhetorically, feeling the utmost responsibility to do all he could at any given time.\n\n\"You aren't the first one to be concerned. I guess everyone else's complaints are why you're even being given this deal.\""
},
{
"author": "Charlie Marsh",
"message": "\"I could- do all of those things for you, I mean. You could always supervise?\"\n\nCharlie understands the need to do everything, as irrational as it is. Trusting those sorts of things to someone else means it could be done *Wrong*, and then you'd only have to go back and do it all yourself anyways. Sometimes it was better to not even bother.\n\n\"I know how to take care of a garden, and how to feed chickens. I'm good with a hammer, too, if anything needs fixing.\"\n\nIt does occur to them that they're essentially... Advertising themselves, and they have to stifle down their embarrassment. A job is a job, and this one was desperately needed. Even if their would-be boss was a little superstitious, they'd at least get a clean pair of clothes. Hell, maybe something would actually *Fit* Them for once, if this stranger-\n\nRight. Stranger.\n\n\"I, uh, didn't introduce myself. My name is Charlie.\" They hold their hand out to Riley's bad arm for a moment, curse softly, then switch so he can shake with his good arm."
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "What Charlie was thinking in the beginning was completely in line with what Riley's mind went to. He feared being taken advantage of most of all, having been the sort of kid to cheat his way out of hard work once upon a time and look for loopholes. However, in his condition trust was of the utmost importance and some risks needed to be made. He needed to trust this person even if they were essentially a stranger who gave him puppy eyes the moment they got caught.\n\nAs Charlie listed out their skills as they applied to this job Riley couldn't help but smile. He was getting the feeling that this person was a tad desperate, maybe boosting up their resume and saying whatever they could to seal the deal. It was amusing even if this wasn't really the case.\n\nA hand was extended, one that surprised Riley for a moment before he registered what was actually going on. The small error of Charlie trying to shake an out of commission hand easily caused Riley to laugh, seeming to forgive and forget what had happened moments before. With his free hand Riley shook Charlie's own, his handshake firm but short. \"I'm Riley, nice to meet ya.\" He said simply before gesturing back to the house with his head.\n\n\"I live with my grandma, she can't do much nowadays. She tries, believe me, but I do most of the harder jobs.\" He continued, hoping to give Charlie some more context. \"The town tries to help out when I can't do it all but everyone's gotta tend to their own at the end of the day. Would you wanna go meet her? She's got a habit of giving everyone a hard time so don't take anything personally.\""
},
{
"author": "Charlie Marsh",
"message": "Charlie's ears burn as Riley laughs, despite the good nature of it. They're glad that it seems to get them into better graces with him, but there is still the fact that it's *Embarrassing.* Their hand goes to rub at the back of their neck once Riley withdraws his hand.\n\n\"It's a pleasure, Mister Riley.\"\n\nAt the mention of his grandmother, Charlie perks up a small bit.\n\n\"She sounds a little bit like my grandpa,\" They chuckle breathily, \"He's going on...68, now? Refuses to let anyone do for him, even with his cane.\"\n\nThe context that Riley gives, as small an amount as it is, settles some of the burgeoning worry in their chest. He seems like a good sort, enough so that people come by to help him out, so Charlie... Shouldn't get horribly murdered. Not that they think they *Will*, considering his bad arm and personality shown, but caution is still important!\n\n\"I'd be glad to go and meet her, though I hope she won't give me trouble over my... Disheveledness.\""
},
{
"author": "Riley Sutton",
"message": "Riley hardly noticed the ashamed gesture Charlie gave, being too focused on what good or bad could come from this. To hear a piece of Charlie's backstory felt relieving in a way. In the end he was just happy that this didn't end with bloody knuckles or a missing shirt. Leaning down once more Riley snatched up his journal and got ready to get moving.\n\nAs he wandered back towards the house with the not-so-stranger in tow he wondered what exactly their grandfather looked like. Were they like his own? The more he thought however the more he realized that his grandfather's features were a bit fuzzier in his head. He knew that was what happened when someone leaves your life, the rest of his family were evidence enough of that, but it still hurt once you noticed it happening. \n\n\"So, uh... Is your grandpa around here or has it been a while since you've seen him?\" Riley asked rather out of the blue, unintentionally projecting his own feelings into his words. Still, his question still stood, most of it being out of genuine curiosity. It could also get two answers in one, Charlie's response potentially enlightening Riley into just where they came from."
},
{
"author": "Charlie Marsh",
"message": "\"It's been about a year.\" The words want to catch in Charlie's throat, and they have to fight down the sudden prick of sadness. \"He's back up in Illinois, near Chicago.\"\n\n***Lillian and Sylvia, too.***\n\nCharlie's own family had an odd sort of way of being: always close by, yet somehow also being complete and utter strangers. There were a few aunts and uncles, a gaggle of cousins, but they hardly ever interacted with Charlie. Lillian and Sylvia had had a bit of better luck, but Charlie had always been the black sheep of the Marsh family.\n\nIt didn't help that some of their... Less upstanding acts had been directed towards them. How were they supposed to know that a few sparklers would burn down most of Aunt Nessa's garden? Cousin Oliver's truck was a hunk of junk anyways, so what if one of his tires got half melted? Who gave a damn if Cousin Maisie ran home crying with a bloody nose, she'd done *Worse*-\n\n\"What about you? Is it just you and your grandmother in town?\""
}
] | 251 | 3,773 |
288.933333 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"Anyway. Sorry. That's a lot. I don't— I don't know why you'd need to know all that.\" Carina shuffled the photographs back into a pile and got to her knees before standing. She had only ever told Mrs. Bigby about her family, and she felt stupid for burdening Dimitra with it now. She placed her pictures back into the cabinet where they lived and made a pit stop in the kitchen for the jar of moonshine. It was barely dipped into and yet Carina felt airy. This kind of intoxication was much more severe than the gentle hum of wine. She wasn't sure she liked it so much. \n\nSetting the jar down in the nest of blankets, she joined Dimitra again on the floor, tucking her shins beneath her and fixing her skirt over her knees. \n\n\"Okay, now you. Tell me something sad about your family. I'll feel like a fool if you don't.\""
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She quite liked the floor, she found. It was cozy, and as embarrassed as Carina felt about not having much furniture and the lack of company, Dimitra hoped she could remedy both soon enough. \n\n\"It's natural to tell your friends things about you,\" She said, gratefully picking up the moonshine jar and popping the top off, getting a big whiff of that strong alcohol smell; could burn the eyebrows right off your face, for certain. Had to be the Coopers'. \n\n\"Besides, I like hearing about it all.\" Made her seem more human, in a way. \"Let me tell you something,\" Dimitra sat forward a little on her knees before she took a big swig of that moonshine straight from the glass. \"Have I ever told you why I don't like sleeping alone?\" She asked her curiously."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina took the jar from Dimitra before she could close it and took a sip as well, albeit more timidly than the other woman. She'd never drank something that hurt so badly before. As long as it'd loosen her tongue though, she took it like medicine. She'd made it her goal to *Open up.* Short of a literal crowbar, moonshine was the best tool for the job. \n\n\"No,\" Carina answered, hushed, \"You haven't.\" Her eyes were slightly wide as she coached herself to receive the answer. She remembered the last time this subject was broached in the store a few days ago, and she was looking forward to the chance to amend her reaction."
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Dimitra's smile was easy, even as she began to launch into her story. \"When I was a little girl,\" She said. \"In the caravans, you know, we would stop from place to place along the sea,\" Her fingers traced an imaginary shoreline in the air. \"We didn't have much job opportunity outside of dancers and circus fortune tellers, but we made it work. Odd jobs and the like. I used to make flower crowns and sell them on the streets, you know?\" \n\nShe pulled her knees in closer to her chest. \"People didn't always see us... Travelers, as people. And we were this beautiful commodity, something to be collected.\" Her shoulders raised a bit. \"To make a long story short, I was sleeping and a man came and took me from my bed. I was twelve. He wanted to make me his *Bride* Of all things,\" She wrinkled her nose. \"Didn't touch me, thank heavens, I put up too much of a fight. But my folks couldn't find me for three days. My brothers came and got me once they found out where I was, but it was hard after that. Slept with my parents, my brothers, my friends. When I was too big to do that...\" She laughed a little. \"I guess I had to figure out another way to get company in my bed,\" Dimitra rolled her eyes. \"But even just hearing the breathing of another person in the room makes me feel more at ease.\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina listened, rapt. Anger followed fascination, and her face reddened on young Dimitra's behalf. Not even when Carina slept in the locked clothes closet of her room in the Richmond house, the doorknob jammed with a chair from the inside as windows were smashed in the next room over, had anyone ever tried to get her. Looters carried away paintings and furniture and jewelry, but no one had bothered with her. She had never been so thankful. \n\n\"That's abhorrent, Dimitra.\" She replied, her expression twisted as though she'd tasted something bitter. She thought again of how she'd reacted to Dimitra's preference in the shop. She'd been so quick to judge her. Usually, she loathed to admit being wrong, but here, she accepted it. She hadn't known even half the details needed to comment, then. Even now, there were details she dared not ask, but she had enough to properly understand. It was difficult, but, Carina began to apologize. \n\n\"I'm sorry. For judging you when I didn't understand.\" She felt lighter. \"I—\" The next part stuck in her throat a bit, and she cleared it, \"I sometimes speak without thinking.\" Carina didn't need to say it, but she'd felt herself *Wanting* To. The urge was entirely unfamiliar, but she honored it, in part thank to the liquor."
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Perhaps it was because she'd told the story a dozen times, always followed by a laugh and a wave of her hand, that this retelling felt so different. The response was never *Positive*, of course, but usually it was garnered with a reaction like someone hearing a great heroic tale— they would tell her how *Brave* She was, how it was no wonder she was *So strong.* \n\nMaybe that was why Carina's complete and total disgust and discomfort over the topic really threw her for a loop. Her insistence, her *Apology*, was not something she had ever expected to come. She hadn't expected one at all— nor had she told the story to garner one. \"Don't worry,\" She told Carina, her hand coming to rest over the other woman's delicately. \"I've come to know your... *Quirks*,\" She flashed Carina a mischievous grin at that, \"And I still adore you, not despite them, but because of them.\" Dimitra's hand squeezed Carina's, her thumb brushing delicately over her knuckles. It was a moment of warmth; and she felt her cheeks turning just a little pink at her admission that Carina was *Adored*, but she could blame that on the alcohol warming her to the bone. \n\n\"Tell me something happier,\" She said suddenly, her hand still on hers. \"Your favorite memory from childhood.\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina soothed into Dimitra's touch. She'd been expecting closeness this time: anticipating it. Tonight, she'd set out with physical affection as her goal, and as a result, was miles away from the mindset that had sent her running from the Florakis household without dessert just a week prior. Carina received the admission of adoration with a smug kind of satisfaction. Of course Dimitra adored her. What was there not to adore? (In a more insecure moment ((of which there were plenty between Carina and her own mind)), Carina would have been able to come up with a neverending list of her own faults. Now was not that moment). \n\n\"My favorite memory from childhood,\" She repeated back, searching Dimitra's eyes for mercy. She had already talked so much about her past in the form of showing photographs. She'd been expecting some kind of praise or reward to proceed more emotional chores, but alas. \n\n\" Once, my father took me to see a collection of paintings. I loved art. His friend who was a judge owned *Rooms* Of paintings. The judge was getting ready to give them away, to open a museum just for them. My father took me to see them and let me spend hours there looking. It was amazing, all the huge canvases in their golden frames. I should like to go see them in their museum some day.\" Although she tried not to think about her father much, the memory was still a pleasant one. \n\n\"Now yours.\" \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She was surprised when Carina didn't bristle at her touches or words, and she relaxed considerably more. Maybe she'd had some time to think; this version of Carina was far more relaxed, and she liked that about her. She also liked uptight, as strung taut as a bow string Carina as well. She was fond of both; her fingertips went from Carina's hand to her wrist and her arm, brushing so slowly and pleasantly along the skin. \"That sounds beautiful,\" She told her, and when she said it, she was staring directly into Carina's eyes. \n\n\"Standing in the river in my skirts with my older brothers, catching fish. It was the most fun I've ever had; the summer was so hot and the water was so cool on the skin, and all we did was laugh and splash and try and catch dinner. My brother, Konstantin, tackled me and got me soaked down to the bone,\" She laughed aloud and tipped her head to the side. \"It doesn't seem like much. Whenever I'm sad, though, and missing home... I think about them.\" \n\nThere was a pleasant silence that stretched between them; warm, the air was tense not with hurt feelings this time, but with something far more magnetic. She shifted slightly closer and brushed her fingers over her arm and then her shoulder, her eyes flickering from her eyes and then her mouth and back. \n\nLast time, a kiss on the cheek had ruined everything. She hoped this wouldn't be the undoing of them. \n\nDimitra leaned in so their noses brushed, far more tentative than she'd usually be with a kiss. Carina was different; she tilted her head slightly and kissed her, tasting moonshine on her lips when she did."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Instead of miles from the feeling that'd sent her from Dimitra's house, perhaps Carina was only several meters away. She visibly tensed as the woman's touch traveled her arm, but managed to relax once she felt her jaw threatening to tighten. To do so while maintaining eye contact with her date felt like a Herculean feat. \n\nCarina didn't smile or express much appreciation for Dimitra's recounted memory. Getting soaked in all of one's clothes seemed like a sensory nightmare. She only just kept from grimacing, but as Dimitra herself laughed, Carina couldn't help but lighten, too. She could relate to missing home and thinking of the people that had defined it. Trying to imagine *Home* Being knee-deep in a river with wet skirts whisked her away for a moment, the moonshine taking its liberties and possessing Carina to search in Dimitra's eyes for a clue into the feeling. And, oh– what was she doing? Why was she looking– \n\nOh. \n\nFirst, Carina was concerned for her physical health. She had never felt the sensation of her heart so high in her throat, and she stiffened in the moment it took to reassure herself that she was not actively dying. Second, she calculated the possibility of pulling away: the velocity and angles at which she would recede from the kiss. Third, she relented. \n\nFourth, she rejoiced. \nBut only for a few seconds. That was all she had prepared for. \n_ _\n\nShe gave herself to Dimitra for long enough to convey her desire. Her resistant, ever-frowning mouth softened and searched for the span of a breath and a half. Her eyes fluttered closed for only a couple heartbeats. This was the math in which she engaged during their closeness, until finally she released herself. She did this slowly and with purpose, punctuating her returned affection with a stamp of authority: *I decided to kiss you back, and I am deciding to end it.* \n\nCarina was shaking as she straightened her shoulders. It had... Been a while since she'd last been kissed. She was all at once proud and exhausted that she'd participated in the act again. \n\nThe thing that Miss Templeton foolishly hadn't rehearsed was the moment after. Having successfully navigated intimacy, she stalled in the afterglow. What comes after the first step? The second step, of course, but after all that careful math, she'd forgotten how to count to two. Jarred and flustered by her own unpreparedness, she did what her body commanded and reached for the moonshine. \n\nAfter swallowing a generous sip and setting down the jar, her nervous eyes found Dimitra's and, of all things, the dour shopkeeper broke out in a silver chime of laughter, soon thereafter clamping a hand over her mouth. In her tipsy post-kiss fog, she went on laughing, tipping forward to catch her head at Dimitra's chest, her palm falling to brace on the woman's thigh. Who knew how many years of unbridled humor were being released in those moments? Later, she might be embarrassed, but here and now, Carina was lost to catharsis. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "The moments between the initial kiss and the end of it felt both a lifetime and like a mere snap of her fingers. Dimitra could've stayed in that moment forever; Carina's lips were soft, hesitant, and she could almost distinctly hear the turning of gears in Carina's head. Dimitra relished in the closeness that she knew was rare for her friend; she internally laughed at the word *Friend* When their lips were pressed together. \n\nOf course, Dimitra had kissed plenty of her friends. She'd pressed her lips to the cheeks and temples and noses of plenty of her companions, and placed a few kisses to their lips, too. God knows, she'd engaged in a few drunken moments of affection with people like Rhett Sterling, but that didn't *Mean anything*, even when she had distinctly tasted the back of his teeth once or twice. It was funny, how a simple kiss, curled up on the floor before the fire, was a far more intimate and stomach-churning act than others she'd engaged in before. \n\nDimitra kissed her friends. But she was kissing Carina Templeton and that was another story altogether. She tasted like moonshine and she smelled like sweet perfume; probably something old and fancy, with a name Dimitra couldn't pronounce, because Carina had standards. \n\nWhen the kiss broke, and Carina dove for the moonshine, Dimitra couldn't blame her. Of course, she hadn't expected her to tip forward, laughing, but it was an infectious thing. She was laughing too, gripping Carina's waist with her free hand, both laughing at nothing and everything all at once. \n\n\"You're good at that,\" She told her. \"Kissing, I mean. A little stiff in the shoulders, but...\" She said softly. \"Nothing a little practice couldn't fix.\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina had passed the test she'd arranged for herself, and she was ecstatic. Finally she gathered herself from the laughing spell and slowly sat back up, becoming aware of Dimitra's hand at her waist and her own hand on Dimitra's thigh. Following the hurdle of the kiss, all other touch seemed alien somehow. Unrehearsed closeness was something Carina still needed to work on. She quickly extracted her limbs back to herself and cleared her throat. \n\n\"Thank you. The shoulder stiffness is my signature, I'll have you know.\" She defended herself, a placid look over her face. Dimitra, having spent some time with Carina by now, would recognize humor there, but it wasn't obvious. \n\n\"You're right. You'll need practice to get used to it.\" She idly picked at a stitch in the blanket beneath them, doing her best to pretend at playing cool. Her performance had a lot of layers to keep track of, and she accidentally cracked a sheepish smile. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "Her lips cracked into a wide smile and another laugh rang out from her; she laid down on the blanket, her curls splayed out beneath her head as she gazed up at Carina from this position. Her hands folded on her stomach and she just felt at peace with tonight. There was no rush, no desperation. Just two friends, maybe more, enjoying one another. \n\n\"I'm sure I'll get used to it,\" She said, the words very soft and fond as they left her lips. She still had no idea what she was doing in the grand scheme of affections and lovers and all, but she knew this felt good and Carina was so beautiful, and she wanted to kiss those lips again when her friend was ready to do that. It could be in ten minutes, tomorrow, next week, or a year later. \n\nShe was a creature of touch; her hand dropped onto the blanket and her fingers skittered their way to Carina's skirt, touching the fabric and rubbing it between her fingers. \"You can't deny,\" She said after a second. \"That was nice, wasn't it?\" Dimitra couldn't help but pry."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"Of course it was,\" Carina said sharply, nearly offended by the obviousness of the answer. In what world would it not have been nice to be kissed by a woman like Dimitra? A woman so soft and bold all at once? A woman who made her feel wanted and rare. \n\nShe decided she liked this view of her friend, as she stared down at Dimitra on the blanket. Enjoying it for a few moments longer, she decided then that she was ready for continued closeness. She eased herself down into the floor, sealing the side of her body to Dimitra's. It was a kiss of sorts, if you squinted. \n\n\"I really should see about some furniture. I don't know the first thing about purchasing a sofa in this town that isn't stuffed with straw.\" She surprised herself at how comfortable it was to fall back into conversation— how comfortable she was in general here. She couldn't recall the last time she'd felt this, or if she'd ever even felt it at all."
},
{
"author": "Dimitra Florakis",
"message": "She was giddy, watching Carina follow suit and lay on the floor beside her. Their sides touched, and she looked to the side to watch Carina's face as she spoke. She traced the outline of her face with her eyes; the slope of her nose, the pursing of her lips, and the way her eyelashes fluttered a bit when she spoke. \n\n\"Could you order it from the city? In one of those fancy furniture ads in the city newspaper? Do you think they'd deliver it all the way out here?\" Dimitra laughed and dragged her hand through her hair. \"You could ask one of the carpenters to make you one. I don't know about sofas, but Dallas Sinclair made me a chair once.\" She whistled, drumming her fingertips on her stomach in thought. \"I'm sure someone could make a sofa.\" \n\nDimitra liked the closeness. The intimacy of laying shoulder to shoulder, warmed by the fire, and just talking like this was their everyday. Carina was tricky, she'd admit that, but it was something Dimitra liked, in all honesty."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina laughed, imagining a vivid scene of the hypothetical furniture delivery. \n\"The people of Briar Ridge can make it a week without rations. I'll have the delivery driver fill his truck with furniture instead of groceries. Problem solved.\" She focused on a far off spot on the ceiling, lost momentarily to fiction. \n\n\"I could use a few chairs.\" She nodded, reeling herself back to the present, \"A bigger dining table. I'm sure Mrs. Bigby has some things she'll bring with her when she comes. She's having a hard time saying goodbye to her little place over the store. She's been there more than 20 years, since Mr. Bigby passed. I don't blame her getting attached. It'll be nice out here for her, though. No stairs to worry about.\" Carina had become uncharacteristically loose in the tongue since she'd summoned the courage to kiss Dimitra back. The moonshine helped, sure, but she was buzzing with adrenaline like she'd just jumped from the top of a waterfall. \n\nMaybe the ease of her speech was also in part owed to her company, though this would be the last justification Carina would lean on. Dimitra's presence, when she wasn't stealing candy, was soothing. Even when the woman appeared in the shop with nefarious intent, she was a source of familiar chaos, and as long as chaos was familiar, Carina could stomach it. She could even grow to like it, and before long, who knows? That same chaos might just stir up love."
}
] | 291 | 4,334 |
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{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina left the store early that night to ensure she was home in time to tidy the place for Lily's arrival. There was barely any disarray to organize– not because Carina was an inherently neat individual, but because she had relatively few belongings with which to generate disorder. \n\nShe sat herself at the kitchen table with fifteen minutes until six o'clock, watching the door with a kind of eager Christmas morning expression. If her first impression on Lily hadn't exactly been favorable, this one would be far worse, but somehow this struck Miss Templeton's funny bone. Though a roommate would be nice, it wasn't a necessity and if, by chance, this whole situation resulted in driving Lily out of town entirely, Carina could pat herself on the back for saving the life and sanity of a wayward soul in whom she couldn't help but recognize a bit of her former self. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Ann Brooks",
"message": "50 cents was 50 cents, Lily would take it. They'd have to find someone who could tell her where the address on the scrap of paper was, but that shouldn't be difficult to do. \"The name is Lily, should she want to know.\" And with that she made her exit. \n\nLily found her way to the address five minutes before the agreed upon time, she found that being just a few minutes early tended to leave a good first impression. Little did she know that that ship had already sailed. None other than the store clerk awaited her at the house. \n\nThe moment she was met by Carina their kind expression dropped. Annoyance and a hint of anger were clearly visible on her face and she didn't bother hiding it. Carina's actions had been childish at best. \"_CT..._ Templeton, I take it?\" She'd heard the name from Hazel, who had told Lily that a Miss Templeton had a room for rent. Some might have found this an incredibly funny setup, Lily was not one of them. They did not take kindly to being played for a fool. Carina must think herself a genius for her little ruse, and Lily liked her even less. Not because the ruse had been a bad one, on the contrary, Lily disliked her because they had fallen for it. She'd let down some of her walls, a mistake it seemed. \"Is this how business in Briar Ridge is usually conducted or is this just your own preference?\" Carina was lucky Lily needed the room, otherwise they'd have turned around right there and then."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"*Carina* Templeton, pleased to make your acquaintance.\" Carina purred, sweeping open the door to allow Lily through. \n\"You seem so familiar, somehow. Maybe we've met before?\" She closed the door and whirled around to her would-be roommate, the pleated mustard yellow skirt of her collared dress flaring and settling around her. Carina preferred her jokes to be taken as Lily was taking this one, with Carina herself as the only party privy to the delicious humor at play. After allowing herself a moment or two to splendor in her own delightful execution of the punchline, she swept around to the stove where a steaming teapot was keeping warm. Pouring tea in the two empty cups on the small kitchen table, she took the far seat for herself and gestured to the open chair for Lily. \n\n\"This is just my personal preference,\" She sighed dreamily, in a splendid mood. She looked down to her cup and stirred in a touch of sugar, raising it to take a sip: proving to Lily that it was just tea. \n\"Unorthodox, perhaps. Perhaps I like to test for character.\" \n\nShe had no more ruses up her sleeves, and she cleared her throat to color the situation a bit more businesslike. Since Lily hadn't made for the door already, she supposed this was her cue to take responsibility for the woman's presence. She had posted that advertisement, after all, and it had been serious. As much as she now wished it had only been a setup for pranks, the truth lay in Carina's financial instability; she could not afford the reputation she wanted to wear. \n\n_ _\n\n\"I understand how the city can be, Miss Lily. I was born in Richmond. Now I am here. You'll find a fresh start in Briar Ridge, but that isn't all you'll find. I don't think it would be fair to take your money for the room until you know what our town has been... Troubled with... In recent months.\"She took another sip of tea, and looked up to her company. The thing she liked second best to jokes at others' expense was holding information overhead. If Lily were to be living under her roof, she wanted to take these first moments to establish a strict hierarchy. There were things that Carina knew that Lily didn't. These were lifesaving things– deathly serious things. If Carina could firmly establish herself as a figure of authority, she foresaw few problems in their cohabitation. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Ann Brooks",
"message": "Brown eyes rolled in annoyance at Carina's next, equally unfunny joke. They followed her inside and took a seat, but not until after Carina had admitted to the jokes being part of her as a person instead of Briar Ridge as a whole. It was something Lily was grateful for. They'd have complimented Carina on her dress, but alas, compliments were reserved for friends, people who could be manipulated into becoming friends or people who Lily wouldn't mind sharing a bed with for a night. Carina was none of those. \n\nShe took the tea. \"I take it you're not one to see the humor in poisoning potential roommates?\" She understood testing for character, she'd have done some testing of her own if it had been her room. Though they would have been nowhere near as childish as Carina's tests had been. They blew into the cup to hasten the cooling off the liquid. \n\nLily knew of Richmond, small in comparison to New York City but then again most places were. She thought she may have heard it being mentioned once or twice in conversations surrounding moonshine. Nevertheless, it was good to see that there were other people who had left cities behind them in exchange for the holler that was Briar Ridge.\n_ _\n\nCarina seemed to enjoy being in power and Lily didn't blame her one bit. Anyone with any kind of sense enjoyed holding power, it was what made the world go round and round. It ensured survival. And apparently Carina knew something that would heavily impact Lily's ability to do just that, to live. \"And pray tell, what exactly has this place been _troubled_ with? Some sort of serial killer? Doesn't seem big enough a place to house one of those.\" She took another sip of her tea. It was not that she didn't believe Carina, merely that she foolishly believed it couldn't be much worse that she'd already seen. It was not unheard of for criminals to occasionally dispose of rivals, she'd seen blood spilled before. Nothing compared to what happened in Briar Ridge, as she's come to find out one way or another."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Something in Carina softened as she watched Lily sip at the tea she'd prepared. Weeks ago, Dimitra had been sitting in Lily's place, eating a meal Carina had cooked. The two instances felt familiar enough to send her into a shallow spiral of reminiscence. Her eyes flickered past her current guest to the living room through the kitchen door where there was now a sofa, but in the scene of her memory, there was still a nest of blankets. Guilt and frustration swirled briefly on the back of her tongue before she swallowed the feelings down and returned her attention to Lily. \n\n\"No poison here. I haven't felt the need to perform such dark humor, yet.\" She sipped her own tea, studying her company's clothing again. The dress was familiar– perhaps from Hazel's shop? It gave all the subtle nods of an extremely thoughtful craftsperson. Carina cleared her throat as Lily dug deeper into her question, peeling her eyes back up to her company's face. \n\n\"Folks thought it could have been a murderer, at first. Bodies showed up in the forests half buried and whatnot,\" Her expression brightened with excitement to speak of the grisly details, \"That was back in July before anyone had seen the creatures truly responsible– before the creatures started to multiply. The first reports of *Wolf men* Nearly got the witnesses institutionalized! But more and more townspeople started to corroborate.\" It seemed as though Carina had truly forgotten her own ties to the murders until that very point in her story. Her gaze deadened and grew cold as Mrs. Bigby's slashed chest popped ruby red into her forefront of her memory. She continued, quieter.\n_ _\n\n\"I didn't believe it, really. But the stories were...\" She decided on her word choice, and picked one that would lend Lily a bit of insight into herself, \"Exciting.\" Not terrifying, not sinful. *Exciting.* This had been Carina's truth. She thought back to her careful notes of attack-related gossip, recorded in the little notebook she kept below the cash register. She hadn't been writing as much since Mrs. Bigby died. \n\n\"Then I saw one. In the downstairs apartment of the general store. It broke through the front window and eventually got scared away by fire.\" She kept the details vague. Lily had not earned the privilege of hearing Charlene Bigby's name, let alone the story of her heroic last moments of cognizance. \n\n\"It was over seven feet tall. Stank like rotted meat. These wolf men– they've killed dozens in town by now. It wasn't until the people who hole up at the Ol Davis Ruins killed one that we learned they were... They were actually people. People that we knew. The first wolf they killed was the Sheriff– he became a man again with the morning. The second wolf they killed was the mayor. You can tell who is a secret beast with a test of silver– the metal burns their skin.\" She was enjoying the act of regaling Lily– in part because of the authority she was building, but equally because she rarely got to speak to others so candidly. As she tunneled deeper into the story, her stony exterior softened. She abandoned the effort it took to maintain it in favor of exercising narrative flair with her recap of Briar Ridge's recent history. \n\nOf course, she hadn't missed the opportunity to consider that Lily themself could be a wolf. However unlikely the possibility, Carina still needed to entertain it. Since meeting her potential roommate earlier that day, she had devised several tests to undertake in the ensuing weeks should Lily move in. She planned to get a quote from that Sterling boy for a silver plated doorknob as soon as tomorrow. \n_ _\n\n\"I've been safe in this house since I moved in a few months ago. The wolf men seem particularly drawn to a couple of locations around town. The Ol Davis Ruins, the Barca Estate, the woods... Suffice it to say you would be foolish to find yourself outdoors on the night of a full moon when the infected become monsters.\" At this point, Carina couldn't help herself: she fixed her gaze on Lily, anxiously waiting to see how her artful warning would be received. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Ann Brooks",
"message": "No poison, _yet_. Well, at least if Lily were to get assassinated through food she'd know who to blame in her final moments. Carina seemed a little too excited talking about murder. Lily understood it, she too had been drawn to the city and its darker sides because of that excitement. The constant threat of being caught, of doing things you knew could land you squarely in jail, of narrowly escaping, it came with a thrill unlike anything else. Lily loved that thrill, they kept coming back to it, finding more and more dangerous jobs to take on, taking more and more risks. It had the power to make one feel invincible, and Lily had almost started believing they were invincible. Until the moment that thrill caught up on her and she was proven to be decisively mortal.\n\nLily took the story in, it seemed entirely fictional. They searched for any hint of dishonesty in Carina but couldn't find any. Was Carina just an excellent liar? Did the woman honestly believe her own story? Was she the town fool? \n\nLily blinked a few times, taking some time to process all the information that had been thrown her way. She needed the room, that much was certain. But if Carina was actually crazy, Lily would prefer to find some place else, any place else really.\n\n\"...Wolf men? Transforming? Silver burns their skin?\" \n\nShe clearly didn't buy the story. And could anyone blame her? She wasn't one to believe in the supernatural, she wasn't even sure if God was real. And now they were just expected to believe that werewolves, actual monsters, not only existed but terrorized a tiny town tucked away in the mountains? No, this was too much. This had to be part of Carina's elaborate and frustrating series of pranks. Monsters weren't real. The only monsters out there were men, humans, people, they did enough damage to each other, wolf men were just figments of imagination, figments used to scare children.\n_ _\n\n\"Look if you don't want me to rent the room you could've just told me that instead of wasting both of our times with lies and fancy stories of monsters and full moons.\"\n\nThey shifted their weight, getting ready to stand up and walk promptly out of the house. She was giving Carina a chance to go back on her word, to reveal the second part of her masterful prank. She expected Carina to tell them that they'd passed another test. Wolfmen couldn't be real."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "The pair suffered a few tense moments while Lily absorbed the words that had been spilled out by her host. Carina searched their expression blankly (rather, with her expression as blank as she could manage despite her misguided excitement) for a clue as to how they'd received the information. \n\nHer eyes iced over as Lily outright rejected her warning. Wasting her time? *Wasting* Her time? Her thoughts turned to vinegar, acidifying whatever were to slough off her tongue in the coming moments. *I'll show this absolute *Cow* A waste of time!* Carina recognized the tender few moments she had to turn the situation around– to execute the ill-advised and hastily thought up plan that had just occurred to her. \n\nJust as Lily got up to leave, Carina jutted out across the table, laying her hand on her guest's arm. \n\"Wait!\" She appealed, her face a nearly-convincing mask of concern, were it not for the acrid intentions burning her sick little smile from within. \n\n\"You're right. I'm sorry. I've had my fun.\" She composed herself, settling back in her chair and clasping her hands over her placemat. \n\"I'd like to rent you the room.\" Her voice was quieter, and she was using all of her power for self-composure to withhold trembles of rage and streams of venom from her tone. \n\"It gets lonely here. Fancy stories get me by.\" She excused herself, watching the wood grain around her teacup before she looked up, back to Lily's face. \n\n\"Nine dollars, was that correct?\" \n\nShe *Would* Get this stranger to stay here. Carina had been generous with her truths, brutal and fantastic as they were. There was a price to be paid for this kindness, and Lily would pay it along with her $9. Carina would have a front-row seat to her roommate's fear when the howls drew up from below the full moon that month. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Ann Brooks",
"message": "Lily tensed when Carina placed her hand on her arm, but she didn't pull back. The woman seemed almost angry that Lily hadn't bought her made up tales. She clearly believed that Lily was entirely idiotic, and they didn't take kindly to being taken for a fool. She had survived on her wits and looks alone so far, Carina having fooled her once had already bruised her ego, it would not be happening again. But there was something else there, she almost seemed a tiny bit desperate for them to stay. \n\n\"I heard there's an author in town, she might just have competition with you around.\" The comment reeked of sarcasm, Carina's lowered tone had triggered something in Lily. They needed to feel like they had the upper hand again. The spiteful side of Lily took pleasure in the, in Lily's eyes, _need_ that Carina had for them to stay and rent the room. They had never been known for being kind, the moment someone needed you for something, relied on you for anything, no matter how small, was the moment you could use them. Dependency meant power, so long as it was them relying on you. This was an opportunity, albeit a tiny one. Carina wanted Lily to rent the room, Lily was more than happy to oblige. \n\nThe agreed upon price had been $9.50 but Lily wasn't going to mention that. Nine dollars worked just fine for Lily, she deserved a discount after dealing with Carina's immaturity. A continuous discount. If she was going to be around the woman she would take every small victory they could.\n\n\"Yes, nine dollars.\" They held out a hand to shake, should Carina want the deal to be sealed in that way. \"Do I sign anywhere?\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"You know, it's not a bad idea. But I never write my stories down.\" Another lie, countered by the sheer number of notebooks full of Carina's scribbled handwriting, stored in crates just a room over. No matter. Carina smiled. She extended her hand to shake. \n\n\"No signature, no. You own your word.\" She said simply. Truthfully, if she'd thought to write up a contract of sorts, she would have. But she hadn't. Lily was free to leave when she pleased.\n\nLily's change of heart in staying met a hair of suspicion from Carina, even though she was pleased she'd roped her roommate back into their deal. She tried to keep her eyes from narrowing, her lips from pursing. There was much to learn about her new acquaintance, but now was not the safest time to begin her studies. *Let her get settled,* Carina figured, *Let her get comfortable.*\n\n It wasn't as though she planned to make Lily's life miserable, no! Not in the least. It was only that Carina had never lived so closely with another person, not even her own sisters, back in Richmond. She'd thought a lot about posting the ad for a tenant, and ultimately had considered it something of a foray into social science. The very last thing she was expecting was to make a friend, and especially at present, the idea couldn't be further from her mind. What she didn't realize, though, was that she and Lily may have had more in common than either of them thought; if only either of them could be privy to the mental chess boards behind the other's eyes. \n\nFor now, *Some* Nature of relationship was beginning, however difficult it was to characterize. \n\n\"I'll help you with your things.\" \n\n_ _"
}
] | 414 | 4,017 |
402.571429 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina couldn't think of many things in life that couldn't be healed over with a hot meal and a strong cup of tea. She was willing to admit, however, that a town full of werewolves could in fact be one of those things. Still, she was going to try her damnedest. \n\nObviously, in her eyes, there was not a soul on this planet who did not feel equally healed by food. Her roommate Lily fell into the category of \"Souls on this planet,\" And therefore would be receiving a share of the consolatory breakfast that Carina was making for herself, now three days after the full moon. \n\nThis morning, healing looked like thick-cut bacon, fresh eggs with the first springtime sprouts of chives Carina'd stumbled on in the overgrown garden out back, apple hand pies, and a strong pot of Assam tea the Carina had sent for, special from her usual general store stock order. \n\nAt first, she'd only added enough tea leaves for herself. It was expensive, after all— she couldn't be sure that anyone in this town would appreciate its complexity beside the pedestrian sachets of Red Rose she stocked in the shop. Lily struck her as a person of taste, however. Carina invested in this small act of kindness as another test for her roommate, constantly looking for as many new ways to hate her as she was looking to respect her. Perhaps this would win Lily some respect. \n\nIn any case, the spread was hot and ready. Carina'd heard the sounds of Lily stirring in her bedroom, and had tried to prepare the food in accordance with their emergence from their quarters. An invitation would have helped the timing, sure, but there was nothing Carina understood better than the act of assumption, and she assumed that *Lily* Would smell bacon and assume it was to be shared. She took her place at the small kitchen table which was clearly set for two. She poured herself tea and waited, her impatience clear on her face. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Brooks",
"message": "In her previous life, Lily was someone who could lounge in bed for hours. In this life, however, Lily was someone who had to get up and going the moment her eyes first opened. They were still far from an early bird, she'd spent years working night shifts and the sun rose well before she did. They'd not been made to be a farmer, that much was certain. But Briar Ridge? Maybe she had been made for life here. At the very least life here had changed her. It had kneaded the soft clay that Lily was made from, reshaped her ever so gently. It had smoothed out some of her jagged lines, and Lily found herself not minding the removal of some of her thorns.\n\nBriar Ridge had welcomed her as she was, not because of her use, though uses she did have. No, it had allowed her in when she was broken and scarred and full of sharp shards grown from mistrust and manipulation. Lily remembered their first day in Briar Ridge. How she'd shown up at Hazel's store, damn near begging her to suture the cuts so they could avoid the doctor. How their skin had been split much like her heart. It was through Briar Ridge that they healed. The hands of its seamstress had gently but firmly sewn them up, its people had shown them kindness when they deserved none. Yet it was still given. She was welcomed in against better judgment. \n\nLily was finally discovering who she really was. Her flower planted in the soil of the holler, its white petals had started to unfurl, and for the first time, it was only her who guided the growth. No church, no nuns, no mobsters, no backstabbing bootleggers, this time it was all Lily. Thorns still remained in her side however, and one such thorn answered to the name Carina.\n_ _\n\nLily suspected that the two had simply gotten off on the wrong foot and that the general store clerk was not as bad as Lily thought. If Dimitra trusted her, then there had to be more to their roommate than Lily currently saw. Truth be told, it was exactly what Lily saw that made their initial relationship a rocky one. Carina reminded her of herself, and she'd not been in a place where that mirror was a welcomed one.\n\nShe was greeted by a breakfast table set for two. \"You expecting anyone?\" She asked, not waiting for the answer as she sat down across from Carina. The two had survived yet another full moon entirely unharmed, no wolfmen had barged through their door or even their street. If she didn't know any better, Lily would consider her presence a good luck charm. \"You know I don't think I've ever properly thanked you for lying to me when we first met.\" That was what it had been, Carina had painted herself as an untrustworthy person in some odd attempt to protect Lily from the truth of Briar Ridge's wolfmen. \"I'm not in the habit of thanking people for that, but for you I think I might just make an exception.\" _Thank you._ This was as close as Lily was going to get to outright saying it. \"Would have been a really good book though, I will stand by that.\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"Just you,\" Carina supplied, \"The bacon wouldn't be so cold if you hadn't spent so long in the washroom,\" She commented, not as an attack, but as what Carina saw as a simple statement of fact. She began to pile eggs onto Lily's plate, along with half the bacon and two hand pies, all notably before serving herself. As she poured the tea for both of them, she looked up at her roommate as Lily's gratitude laid awkwardly on the table between them. Carina finally began to serve herself as she processed the situation. \n\n\"You're thanking me? For lying to you?\" She repeated. She would have preferred to accept Lily's *Exception* As an admission of defeat, but something was preventing her from pocketing the person's words with conceited confidence. She simply didn't understand. \n\nCarina had figured that that first string of lies was mostly responsible for the distance between herself and Lily. She hadn't entirely minded their coldness. It was easier to navigate than warmth. With warmth and kindness, reciprocity was expected. With coldness too, she supposed, but the equal contribution of nonchalance was far easier than the thought required to pay back generosity with generosity.\n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Brooks",
"message": "\"Some of us actually care about our looks, Carina,\" They said as they scooted the chair closer to the table. She'd pulled her hair into a french braid this morning, elegant while keeping it out of her face. She took note of her roommates actions, loading up Lily's plate before her own, something was going on here. Carina seemed to be exhibiting kindness without a clear purpose for it. What did she want?\n\n\"Well, I haven't said those exact words just yet,\" They started, \"But...\" They tapped their fingers on the table. \"_Yes._\" Pride was one hell of a hurdle to jump. \"If you had stuck with the truth I would have left, who knows where I would have ended up.\" In a sense, Lily owed Carina much of her current life, but it would be a cold day in hell before they would openly admit that. \"I still haven't quite figured out why you let me believe you were crazy,\" They said. \"And I still haven't actually _seen_ any of your mysterious wolfmen.\" Lily had half a mind to just sleep through the next full moon, truth be told. \"But I can accept that they exist alright, you win, they're real.\" _Happy now?_ She took a bite of bacon, and it was somewhat colder than bacon should ideally be.\n\nFew things brought Lily more joy than reminding people that she had something over them, be that knowledge, a bet won, a deal snatched from under their noses or simply proving them wrong. As one might expect, few things annoyed her more than others doing just that to her. This had been the third month in a row where those howls sounded like clockwork, the first time she'd been able to attribute it to regular wolves, coyotes maybe, but by now even Lily had to admit that Carina was right. Werewolves were real. Lily had been wrong. _Boohoo, big deal..._\n_ _\n\n\"Your other tricks were unnecessary and childish though,\" She added hastily, \"And I'm still the one paying you, so I think we're even.\" Lily may have grown as a person, but fully admitting defeat or genuinely apologizing, being vulnerable even, that was still beyond her. Maybe one day they'd get there."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "Carina had to smile at Lily's snide remarks. She had to– *Had to* Smile. If she were more self-aware, she would be smiling at the irony of the two of them, sat here, trying to out-snark the other. They were caught in a neverending pissing contest. The whole setup was objectively funny, but Carina was not self aware. She only *Thought* She was, and her laugh was inspired by pity, when it would have been a more righteous response to her and her roommates comical sameness. She pitied Lily in thinking she was the cleverer of the both of them, when in reality the two of them were hounds straining at short leashes held by no other hands than their own. \n\nShe heard Lily out, and at the end of their explanation, sighed in frustration. \n\"You would have ended up fine. You seem the stubborn type.\" She took a sip of tea, feigning disinterest as she set her cup down and cut into her apple hand pie with a fork and knife, \"Stubborn enough to keep yourself safe.\" What Carina meant to say was *Smart,* And her tone was gentle enough that maybe Lily would be able to read between the lines here. She only glanced up from her breakfast at the words *You win.* She smiled in earnest, letting silence settle sweetly around the admission to make sure Lily had time to reflect on what they'd said.\n\n\"They were, I agree,\" She nodded, \"But they were *Very* Entertaining.\" Her smirk remained. Clearly she was as pleased with herself now as she had been then. Finally, she took a pause to study Lily's expression, anticipating satisfaction from her teasing. As usual, she was greeted only with Lily's utter lack of vulnerability. It struck her too suddenly and too uncomfortably that the face Lily wore now was one that Carina herself often defaulted to. There was room for mutual respect here, as she stared into the mirror seated across the breakfast table, but Carina filled that void instead with frustration.\n\n\"What do you think of the tea?\" She asked, flustered. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Brooks",
"message": "\"Thank you,\" She quipped, stubborn that she was. They wore their stubbornness as a badge of honor. Lily chose to ignore the fact that Carina was smiling in response to their admitted defeat. Lily admitting defeat, how the mighty fall indeed. \"Don't let it get to your head,\" They murmured, still unable to truly face her own loss. The tea was... _fine_ Lily supposed, she usually preferred hers on the sweeter side. \"It's not my tea of choice, but I can appreciate good tea when I taste it, you know your stuff don't you?\" She was by no means an expert on tea, but she had a sneaking suspicion this may be on the more pricey side, especially when it came to Briar Ridge. The fact that Carina had chosen to share it with them had to mean something. Had this always been a peace talk?\n\n\"You haven't kicked me out yet, and I've started to grow attached to this town, _somehow_, so how about we **Both** Leave those childish acts in the past?\" They too had acted purposefully spiteful toward Carina, and as much as they enjoyed it, they knew that any deal or compromise required sacrifice from all parties involved. Lily wouldn't be asking for friendship quite yet, she knew that would be wistful thinking. But a truce? A call for peace? That they could do. In Lily's eyes it would be beneficial for the both of them, she was more than used to having bad blood between herself and others, but at least they could avoid those people. Living with someone they didn't quite trust was becoming tiring. The proposed making-up wasn't fully genuine for that exact reason, it was as much about making Lily's life easier as it was about repairing a damaged acquaintanceship. Lily hadn't quite yet tricked herself into believing she was capable of being a good person. Anything she did had to have an element of benefit to the thief. The added benefit here being some peace of mind, which was apparently hard to come by in Briar Ridge, if the stories were to be believed."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"A tiger cannot change its taste for meat overnight,\" Carina sighed, annoyed. How could she possibly promise not to do anything *Childish* When it wasn't a word she related to at all? How could she promise not to do anything so subjectively categorized by her company? Perhaps, instead, Lily should agree not to be so sensitive. \n\n\"But I can agree to peace. Look, we're breaking bread.\" She said shortly, setting down her teacup with an abrupt *Clack.* She had to snicker at Lily's comment about the tea, but her interest was piqued all the same, all the happier to move on from talks of ceasefire. Their 'disagreements' were a non-issue, as far as she was concerned, and were made up of nothing more than Lily's ability to stomach Carina's dry humor. \n\n\"What *Is* Your tea of choice, pray tell?\" She asked, tearing into a strip of bacon, careful not to disturb her subtle rosy lipstick, \"Eat, then. Aren't you one for a morning meal? I can't stand to start the day on an empty stomach,\" She confessed around a mouthful. It was one of the first personal anecdotes she'd shared with Lily– it had just slipped out, she supposed. There was a certain degree of comfort here, generated from sharing a living space. That had to be it; that was all. Far be it from Carina to admit she might be developing some kind of fondness for the person seated opposite her. \n\nShe put several more slices of bacon on her plate, along with more eggs, not having finished what she'd originally served herself. If Lily wasn't going to take advantage of the spread, Carina figured she could easily finish the food on her own. Thank God for fast metabolisms.\n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Brooks",
"message": "Annoyance, that's the thanks Lily got for trying to be a good person for perhaps the first time in their life. Really? So much for kindness begetting kindness, all it was begetting her was an attitude. _I forget that flexibility isn't amongst your many talents._ Had Lily verbalized the thought, she'd have immediately sunk the deal she proposed mere seconds ago; no childish comments. Their near constant need to always get the last word in was infuriating to many. They supposed this was one of the many sacrifices one must make for peace. Then again, Lily admired those who stood firm in their beliefs, maybe it would have been seen as a compliment. Unlikely. \n\n\"I was taught it was impolite to speak with one's mouth full,\" She said, loading an apple hand pie and some eggs onto her plate. \"By nuns, no less. But really, what do they know?\" They remarked, clearly not a fan of their teachings, or general existence, and scooped a spoonful of egg into her mouth. \"I like my teas more flowery,\" She said, after swallowing the bite. \"Can't say I drink enough tea to know my exact favorite, but I know I like it sweet.\" In another life Lily would have been a sweet person, in line with their tastes.\n\nCarina appreciated a good breakfast, Lily on the other hand, was more of a dinner person, if she had to pick a meal. \"I used to just eat whenever I had time, sometimes that was right after I woke up, sometimes it was hours later,\" They shared. Irregular hours meant irregular eating times after all. They'd known their fair share of hungry periods growing up, and was more than capable of operating on an empty stomach. \"You get used to it, you know?\" She suspected Carina possibly did not know."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "With the beginning of Lily's statement, Carina was so poised to fire back a retort, but she held off for the sake of maintaining their treaty. As they finished speaking, though, Carina found herself genuinely smirking, of all responses. The rest of Lily's anecdotes were received pleasantly. It was almost as if they were having a normal conversation. Purely on accident, Carina began to think of what fruity teas she had in stock, and what more could be ordered from the supplier special. No, of course it didn't have anything to do with *Lily!* She was just curious, and loved thinking of tea. That was all. \n\n\"Mm, utterly unrelatable.\" Carina commented, again in the midst of swallowing, \"I must eat four square meals a day. Breakfast, a second breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Dessert makes five, if you're counting.\" God *Damnit* There she went, smiling again! She flattened her mouth and weakly cleared her throat. It felt good to share herself with someone, just as it felt good to share in the comfort of food. But Lily? If men could turn into beasts with the lunar cycle, Carina begrudgingly accepted that she may find a friend in Lily, yet. \n\n\"Why were you in the company of... *Nuns?*\" Carina asked, pronouncing the last word with distaste. She did not consider her question to be too personal, and did not pause to worry over what memories it may dredge. Her own curiosity came before all else, and now that Lily had presented themselves as a subject of interest, they would suffer for it. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Brooks",
"message": "\"I was raised in an orphanage, Catholic, hence the presence of nuns,\" She offered. Lily had half a mind to retort with her usual _wouldn't you like to know?_ answer, and perhaps they should have done so. They didn't make it a habit of speaking about her childhood. Talking about it involved having to think about it, and she wasn't a huge fan of doing that. However, she was living as Lily again, the same Lily that had been left on the doorstep of that orphanage, a flower pin closing the bundle of blankets she was wrapped in. That pin was what gave her her name, a white lily flower. It was all she had to tie her to whoever her parents really were. Not that she cared who they were, of course. ~~She did care.~~ Not caring about it was the biggest lie they had ever constructed, so large and all-encompassing that she'd even tricked herself into falling for it. \"It's been a good while since I've had the misfortune of stumbling into any clergy though, and I do intend to keep it that way.\"\n\nCarina seemed to share Lily's distaste for nuns, maybe the woman seated across from them was in possession of redeemable qualities. Wonders never ceased. \"Is that why you've grown to be so tall, all that food?\" Lily wondered if that meant she grew up being able to afford all that food too. Carina's accent didn't match that of those Lily had learned to identify as those born and raised in the town. \"What about you,\" She asked, information for information. \"Am I right in assuming you weren't born here either?\""
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"You'll want to walk the other way when you see Preacher Hughes, then. He's awfully... Persistent.\" Carina warned, sipping her tea to hide any incriminating facial expressions. It was true that, before he had taken Dimitra into his home, Carina hadn't been particularly fond of Abel. She'd tried to make her peace with him, as Mrs. Bigby had been so devout. With her passing, Carina was free to tend her grudges as she pleased. \n\nCarina stayed silent through Lily's inquiry, recognizing it as dry humor, not to be answered in defense or in honesty. Their next question, however, marked itself for a response. Information for information. Sure. \n\n\"I was born in Richmond.\" *Damnit!* She'd meant to say *Virginia!* It was out now, no reeling it back. Her face flushed out of self-directed anger, and out of anger at Lily for drawing a reluctant truth out of her. Suddenly, she stood, gathering her plate and utensils and taking them to the basin. She began to wash them.\n\n\"It was never my home. I have always belonged in Briar Ridge.\" She muttered, over her scrubbing. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Brooks",
"message": "\"Preacher Hughes, that wouldn't be the same preacher that got Dimitra Florakis to _settle,_ wouldn't it?\" Lily asked. \"Him being persistent would explain all of that then. Never thought I'd see the day when she got tied down,\" She mused. Then again, Lily never imagined she'd feel at home in Briar Ridge, and yet, here she was, doing just that. They often joked about the unlikely nature of Dimitra and a pastor, but in the end, if he made Dimitra happy, Lily wasn't going to do anything about it.\n\n\"Richmond,\" They repeated. Carina's face turned a shade of red, and Lily couldn't suppress a small grin. They hadn't even intended to draw out that reaction. She suspected she may have struck a nerve, that Carina didn't enjoy talking about her birthplace. They had that in common then, a distaste for their pasts. Normally that exposed nerve would be subjected to eager prodding by Lily's fingers, trying to draw out more information. Not now, they had a truce, and Lily resigned to not push the topic. At least not overtly. \"I've never been,\" She admitted. Richmond had spit out both Lewis Ashworth and Carina Templeton, there had to be something in the water there that made people develop irritating personality traits. Though with Lewis she could bear them, mostly. Maybe one day they could do the same for Carina. \n\n\"I used to think I was made for the city, but Briar Ridge suits me just fine,\" She offered, trying to seek out common ground with Carina. \"I wasn't lying about that when we first met, I _was_ looking for a fresh start. I don't want to go back to New York, at least not permanently.\" Not that they could even if they wanted to, those bridges had been thoroughly burned, both metaphorically and literally."
},
{
"author": "CARInA VAnORA TEMPLETOn",
"message": "\"One in the same,\" Carina confirmed, through a slightly clenched jaw. Her loss of Dimitra's affection to a man– the *Preacher*, no less!*— was a difficult kind of pain to navigate. She had no right to be so bitter. It had been her own fault, after all. Seeing Dimitra go down screaming between the jaws of a werewolf, and seeing herself- her own hands- fall frozen in response to the violence was a reality she'd taken weeks to contend with. By the time she was ready to admit her failings, Dimitra was healing in the home of Preacher Hughes, and Carina dare not step foot there lest she set the place ablaze with her unholiness. \n\nFrom there, the hurt had taken hold. Couldn't Carina have cared for her? Wasn't her home just as healing? But she hadn't been able to save her in the first place, and from there, a wound in her own pride had ushered her down the bloody burrow of self loathing. Instead of dressing Dimitra's wounds and boiling broth for her, she'd sold caramels and bullion to Abel Hughes, knowing how Dimitra's lips might touch the spoon from which he fed her. \n\nA wretched shiver rose gooseflesh up her spine, and she set her clean dishes to dry beside the sink with a slight clatter. She smoothed her hands down her apron, and finally untied it to reveal a navy blue cotton dress with charming tortoiseshell buttons down the front. \n_ _\n\nShe was now confronted with a choice: sit back down and make polite conversation at the risk of driving a fork into her thigh beneath the table in an effort to cope, or excuse herself to open the shop an hour early like she truly wanted. More than anything, she wanted to be gone from this kitchen where shuddering timelapse frames of Dimitra still flickered across the walls. \n\n\"You should stay, then,\" Carina suggested abruptly, her body language tense as she hovered near the doorway, somewhere between settling down and fleeing, \"New York is ghastly.\" She asserted, blinking a few times to ground herself before she allowed just the faintest curl of a smile onto her lips, \"Besides, I fear how dreadfully you might miss me, should you leave town now.\"\n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Lily Brooks",
"message": "There was something more there, between Carina and Dimitra, Lily realized. She didn't know what exactly, but there had to be, given how Carina reacted. And oh how Lily loved a good mystery. They had the annoying habit of sticking her nose where it didn't quite belong. But look, if people didn't want her snooping around, they shouldn't be leaving such wonderful little breadcrumbs for them to follow. Unfortunately, Carina seemed a little bit too on edge for Lily to do her poking properly. They had to wait until her roommate wasn't so tightly wound in order to unravel whatever she was hiding. A real shame that was, but at least the beginnings of something had been created.\n\n\"Would it be me missing you, or have I started growing on you, Miss CT?\" They said, harkening back to their first meeting. It was a meeting that now felt so long ago. Back when she didn't believe werewolves were real at all. And could you blame her? \"But you're right, New York is ghastly,\" They agreed. \"It did spit out Dimitra though,\" She remarked casually. The words were calculated, and shaped with purpose. Lily was eying Carina for any kind of reaction. \"We used to work together, you know?\" Again, they were searching Carina's face for any hint of information, as they too got up from the table. \"But where are you off to in such a hurry?\" Lily didn't exactly keep perfect track of Carina's schedule, but it seemed too early for her to have to leave just yet. \"Have we truly been talking for that long already?\" They asked innocently.\n\n|| they are in hot pursuit of the gossip"
}
] | 391 | 5,636 |
437.363636 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Charlie Cooper",
"message": "Well, he'd done it, ain't he? He'd beaten the competition by a hair; but there it was. He was the new mayor of Briar Ridge — and suddenly, the weight of it all came crashing down on his shoulders. These were *His* People now. They was the ones gettin' picked off by rabid dogs every month. And it was his job to protect them; more than that, it was his job to make sure they were all being taken care of properly. \n\nMarianne and Charlie had their differences, sure. They'd just been running against each other for gods sake. But if not their policies, or which they shared a few, it was clear they got one thing in common — they cared about this town more than anything. Charlie could respect a strong woman— his mama had always been real strong and business-like, and he knew Marianne would've done a bang-up job if she'd gotten elected. Of course, that didn't mean he was about to hand over his title. \n\nCharlie felt like he had something to prove. To himself, to his family, and to Briar Ridge. And maybe, deep down... He wanted to make his father proud. \n\nThough he himself was the reason his father did not walk amongst them today, he still wanted to make him proud. He hoped he could see him, wherever he was now, and feel a sense of pride as Charlie got up that morning and buttoned himself up, tried to make himself look all presentable like, and headed out the door. \n\nHe waved to people as he passed through town, but his eyes were set directly on the Wilburn house. A knot tightened in his stomach, but he swallowed it down deeper and cleared his throat. He'd knocked on doors and pitched shit for years; this was damn near no different. \n\nWhen he got to the door, he lifted a hand and hesitated before knocking. Hopefully, Marianne would be receptive to his offer. He didn't want her to feel badly about it— and he hoped she wasn't sore about her loss. He took his hat off as he waited, peering up at that big ol' house with curiosity."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "He'd timed his arrival well, for Marianne had only just gotten back indoors. The day was a fine one, and she had taken it upon herself to take the backwoods path to where the headstones lay. The weeds this year were relentless, but no match for her practiced hand, and she had been up early to tend to her loved ones, pulling back briars until her palms were scratched to hell and back, but at least the roses growing over Ma's bones had room to breathe again, and the ivy climbing persistent as ever up the gown of the marbled Mother Mary had been tamed somewhat with pruning shears and patience. \n\nMarianne was only washing her hands of grass-stains and soil when the knock came at the door. Another visitor, still a rarity, something that surprised her each time one came. Just who might be coming to call in the morning remained a mystery right up until she opened the door, and her gaze landed upon no other than the shining new Mayor Cooper. Dressed smart as she was, she became painfully aware of the ragged hem of a dress she only wore for outdoor work, of the dirt under her nails, her tumbledown hair. In her stockinged-feet, for her muddied boots lay right beside the mat on the porch step, she half-stepped, half-slid backwards into the shadow of the kitchen. \n\n\"Mister Cooper, sir,\" And then, \"Hello, Charlie.\"\n\nShe'd a smile for him, despite it all. She resented him *None* For his win at the election - in her heart, she knew a man like Charlie, with his knowledge of the world at its widest at his disposal*And* His dear father's legacy to uphold, would do a grander job at leading than she ever would have. Who would place their trust in a woman like Marianne, a woman who was just now realising that the stockings she wore were entirely different shades of green and she hadn't even noticed, when they could place it in him? \n\n\"I suppose I can be of some kind of assistance to you?\"\n\nShe'd heard whispers that the new mayor would be testing some of the townsfolk with silver. Perhaps he had come to do just that. \"Come in, won't you. Would you like a drink? I was just about to put on a pot of coffee.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Charlie Cooper",
"message": "He honestly didn't think too much on Marianne's state of dress. Clearly, he'd caught her at a bad time; he'd come unannounced and all, he couldn't fault her for not having her hair done up or her stockings in order. Besides, that didn't matter much, for what they were about to discuss. \n\n\"I'm alright, honest, I won't be long with ya,\" He promised her. \"Don't wanna keep you busy, away from... Whatever it is you were doin',\" He flashed her a smile and leaned heavily on his cane, eyes searching for a seat before he opted for a kitchen chair nearby. He eased down with a groan and settled there, exhaling in a rush as he felt his nerves bundle up a moment. \n\n\"Now...\" She looked to Marianne and then the window. \"I don't know if yer in the know, but I only beat you by one vote,\" He told her. \"And hell, if it ain't just... Eatin' me up inside,\" Charlie chewed the inside of his cheek, looking over his glasses at her for a moment. \"Clearly, people like ya. People wanted you to be mayor just as much as they wanted me. Nobody else got that many damn votes.\" He folded his hands together and cleared his throat. \n\n\"Which is why I come 'round, askin' you if you want a job, so to speak.\" He tamped the end of his cane down into the floor a moment, eyes downcast as he thought about how to phrase it. \n\n\"I'd like you t' be my vice mayor.\" He told her, lifting his gaze up again. \"Usually, I'd say a town like this ain't need one, but... I think we're dealin' with a lot more than normal, won't ya say? And I need another head, another brain to help me out. And y'see, I'm s'posed to be silver testing— you can help me decide that, too. Let me know what ya hear, see... Collaborative. But it would be an official title, see.\" He cleared his throat. \n\n\"But only if you want it. I ain't gonna... Force nothin', if you don't want it. And I ain't doin' it outta pity, neither. I think yer smart and got charisma, too. People like you.\" He nodded towards her. \"It's only right.\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "\"Oh, you see, you came at just the right moment. I just got back in from the garden, hence the... Well, all this.\" \n\nMarianne was smiling, and it was a genuine smile - a rarity, these days, but not entirely unheard of. Sure, things had been all dark like stormclouds for... Well, she didn't like to think of quite how long for, but there was light ahead. Real sunlight, like the one that drew the days longer with each and every one that passed by. Things would drag and sting and ache, as grief was wont to do, but she was in motion again, and she would not grind to a halt if she simply kept herself busy. \n\nAnd it seemed that Charlie wanted to keep her busy. \n\n*Vice mayor*, he said, from his seat at the table, and she couldn't help the look of surprise that crossed her face as he said it, so unexpected was the offer. Had it come from another, she might have turned with eyes aflame at the mention of it, with accusations of said pity at the tip of her tongue, but she took a look at his expression and read only honesty in it. She would not call forth questions of his intentions. He had done nothing to deserve that from her. \n\n\"I can't say I disagree that you might be needing a little assistance,\" She admitted, still smiling, still fussing around the coffee - she would not take no for an answer, when it came to a drink, and surely Charlie would not begrudge her a few additional moments of company? It couldn't have been easy on him, taking the walk up here on that rough path with his leg, cane or no cane to assist. Even if he didn't drink it, she would make it, for she found it much easier to talk when her hands were kept busy, when her conversation partner couldn't hold her still enough to fix her with a gaze and read what might be behind her eyes. \"While I'm not so sure you're right about - what was it you just said? Smart? Charismatic? I'm only a daydreamin' fool of a woman, Charlie. But I'd be honoured to be a right hand if you're quite sure you want me.\""
},
{
"author": "Charlie Cooper",
"message": "He was glad to see that Marianne seemed to be doing... Well for herself these days. The news of Francis had been awful, and he'd had his deepest sympathies for her, honest. It couldn't be easy; friend, family, or lover - losing someone was never an easy task to undertake. He wasn't even sure if she would say yes to taking on something just as massive - and he hoped that she didn't assume he was relegating her to *Assistant* But with a fancy title.\n\nIt seemed there was no saying no to coffee, and Charlie figured he could stay a little longer than he'd intended; he wasn't needed elsewhere for the time being anyhow. Being a mayor in Briar Ridge was a helluva lot easier than being one of a city - not like there was phones ringin' or people comin' to knock your door down every ten seconds. \n\n\"C'mon now, don't be so damn modest,\" He said, his knuckles gently rapping the table. \"You got a lot of votes fer a reason, Miss Wilburn,\" Charlie pointed out. \"People like you. And besides... Ain't nothin' bad about daydreamin', and I don't think that makes you none more a fool than anybody else. I'm rightly sure I want you helpin' me call the shots 'round here.\" \n\nHe straightened up a little. \"Them silver tests is what's important. This first go-round; I'm already set on doin' me n' Alma. Prove to people we ain't like our Pa; no secrets. But this next case - I want us to have some meetin', y'know, see what we can do and all.\" He folded his hands on the table and let out a long breath. \"I don't know what to do about these damn werewolves. Or the people who want 'em so adamantly dead.\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "He did not rise again and turn to leave, and she found herself grateful for it. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink when he called out her modesty - did he truly believe his words, when he called her kind things and told her that people liked her enough to have placed her name among the votes? She wanted so badly to believe him, and had had a handful of experiences as of late that at least leaned towards supporting his claims. Perhaps she was not, after all, the island that she had come to believe herself to be, when it came to the people of Briar Ridge and her solitary home up on the hill. \n\n\"Then it'd be an honour to accept your offer, Mister Mayor.\" She beamed, and took the water from the flame to pour them both coffee. The cups were brought to the table with milk and sugar, and with a smoothing-out of her skirt, she dropped to sit opposite him. Elbows upon the table and leaning forward, she listened. \"It's a good call, to put yourselves first in the line of fire, if you'll excuse my crude phrasing. I'm sure there's still folks out there with the belief that you might just have followed in your dear Pa's footsteps.\" A soft sigh - for she had been fond of William Cooper. He had been a kind man when so many others were not. \"If I'm to be your assistant, I'm sure there'll be a question of my... Status in good time, too, but I can assure you, I'm no more wolf than one of these here sugar-cubes.\"\n\nTo prove her point, she retrieved her locket from inside her blouse, and showed it to him, held out in her palm On the same chain hung Francis's rings, and she held those, too, as she had come to frequently for a comfort of sorts. \"Silver as a dime, I promise you. I won't have anyone having doubts about that.\"\n\nAnother quiet moment as she put it away, and then - \"We ought to help them, Charlie. It's no fault of theirs that they're in this awful way. I'm sure they don't mean the bloodshed... When a dog bites, it's 'cause he's afraid, not vicious.\""
},
{
"author": "Charlie Cooper",
"message": "Marianne Wilburn was a kind soul. She was gentle, she was understanding, empathetic. Charlie Cooper could be all those things too, but he found himself turning to darker corners these days. He found some level of sympathy with the wolves, because he had come to know them outside of their beastly forms. However, he had seen the looks on the faces of those who had lost far more - the silent devastation of Carina Templeton at the loss of the motherly figure, Mrs. Bigby. The agony in Dallas Sinclair's eyes as he lifted his sister's mangled body off the ground, her orphaned son wailing for his mother. \n\nThe agony of losing his father to the curse in an entirely different way. A silence passed over them a moment before he could find the words to speak again. \"I appreciate yer transparency,\" He said, nodding towards the silver locket in her palm. \"If only the wolves could be like that. Then maybe we could help 'em. At this point, Miss Wilburn, I'm startin' to think they ain't want no help. What do we do 'bout that?\" He asked. \n\n\"And who can we trust? Ain't many we can.\" He pointed out, clearing his throat as he rapped his knuckles on the table again. He focused on the smell of coffee that idled in his senses pleasantly, trying to keep himself calm and collected. These things were visceral, they were *Real*. There had been so much blood. Far more than he ever would've liked to see. His eyes migrated to the rings around her neck. *Not even Francis,* The words were on the tip of his tongue."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "\"I should like to help them, Charlie. If we could perhaps find a way to make them feel... Safe. Welcomed, despite their curse. I don't like all this... Caging and trapping and making of silver-bullets,\" Marianne admitted, her voice soft as she looked down into her coffee cup, swirling the spoon, watching wisps of milk blend into ink-dark liquid until the two merged fully to form a light shade of brown. \"I don't blame one of them for not asking for help, not when the - what is it you call it? The Coalition? - when the Coalition seeks to capture and destroy them if this cure doesn't come a-knocking at the door.\"\n\nShe had seen the cage at the foot of the hill, horrible iron-wrought thing that it was, and thought it an eyesore upon the town, and a threat to all who might put a foot wrong in the eyes of those who placed themselves in charge. But who was she to question it? Nothing but a lonely woman in a lonely house, all but begging anyone who happened to pass her porch steps to stay long enough for coffee. \n\n\"If we could... If *Anyone* Could offer them some sort of sanctuary. A promise to protect their secrets, should they desire it. If I were one of them, I'd hide from anyone trying to kill me, too.\"\n\nShe thought of Francis - darling Francis, with claw-marks down his cheek and little pieces missing. The red of his coat, and the red of his blood soaked into the snow instead of inside him. The heat of his hand, the cold of the rings she now wore at her throat. Their worn-silver insides. The absence of them upon his gentle fingers as they had entwined with hers. For months, and months, and months.\n\nShe had loved a man, and a werewolf, and that same wolf-man had loved her until his dying breath, keeping his secret all the while until his soul had departed and she opened her eyes. If she looked harder, could she find more of them?\n\nWould they find her touch, as Francis had, and would they know that they were safe behind her?\n\n\"Trust's not something guaranteed. You got to earn it from them, the same as they got to earn yours. You're a smarter man than I, Charlie. What can you, as their mayor, offer to them so that they might offer you their honesty in return?\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Charlie Cooper",
"message": "Marianne made good points; the werewolves were not keen to reveal themselves, to hand themselves in, for fear of the immediate persecution they could face. The coalition had made an example of April Abrams— she was a gentle woman but a murderous creature when turned, and they'd shot her down without a single thought about the woman inside of the beast. It was understandable, those were the *Rules* Of this whole thing— but why? And how could they stop the beasts without shooting to kill? \n\n\"Yer askin' a whole lotta questions,\" He said, exhaling swiftly. \"That I ain't sure I got the answers for quite yet. I don't know if there's much I can do for 'em without makin' a few people real mad.\" \n\nThere were people in the coalition who thirsted for blood, much like the werewolves did. JD Monroe's sanity was slipping by the day, held back only by Dallas Sinclair's sturdy hand. But even that man sought vengeance for the murder of his sister, and did Charlie really blame him? Florian Barca and Freddie Lovejoy were hellbent on their crusade for the wolf that nearly ended Florian's life— and once again, Charlie couldn't help but see both sides of the coin. \n\n\"The cage's been useful,\" He said after a second. \"Keeps Shady in. Keeps him from hurtin' people or gettin' himself hurt. But cages are expensive,\" He said. \"And take up a whole lotta time and space.\" Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose. \n\n\"I could... Offer some kinda pardon,\" He mumbled. \"Ain't nobody held responsible for their crimes in werewolf form when they're human,\" He suggested. \"Much like Shady. Could offer 'em... Some kinda protection, I guess?\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Charlie Cooper, despite it all, seemed to look upon Marianne Wilburn as an equal. To be on a level footing with a man of such status was still an unfamiliar concept to her, but she welcomed it as she had welcomed him into her home. To make one's way into her inner circle was a simple process, and she regarded him with respect, with understanding. It appeared that he rewarded her that same understanding in return, for he listened to her words, turned them back upon her without confrontation. \n\n\"I'm simply putting you into practice,\" She responded with an easy smile, when he spoke of *Questions* As though they were a foreign thing. \"You're the mayor now, after all. I'm sure I won't be the last to ask you that which you don't have answers for. For what it's worth, I think you're already doing very well. You've to ask yourself the difficult quandaries, too - what's driving you now, Charlie? What do you want for our futures?\"\n\nShe would not have held so strong in his position. It was, perhaps, a good thing that the townsfolk had chosen him over her. But she would help him, in any way she could. \n\n\"I won't pretend to know what's been agreed with Mister Rooster, but if he's content to continue the arrangement, I see no reason to disrupt that. One wolf confined is one less to come breaking windows and causing bloodshed,\" She admitted softly. \"If there's anything I can do when it comes to aiding in the expense of building such things as cages, all you've to do is let me know. As for a pardon... I think it's a wise thing to consider. If their actions are out of their control, it doesn't seem fair to hold them to trial for what they're unable to prevent. I'm sure the promise of their safety would be enough to draw out one or two more to you.\"\n\nShe paused for a moment, thinking, taking a delicate sip of her coffee. \n\n\"I say one, two. Do you know how many there are? Truly the extent of what we're up against?\"\n\nShe used *We* Without question. She and Charlie would be a team."
},
{
"author": "Charlie Cooper",
"message": "There was relief in him that Marianne was so ready to join the cause; to help him, to serve the town. She knew it couldn't be easy for her; these werewolves were a sensitive subject, after all. Of course, it was a situation that couldn't be ignored or swept under the rug, as much as Charlie would like to at times. This wasn't a simple pest control problem; these things were unfortunately just as much citizens of this town as the rest of them. These beasts were *His* People. \n\n\"Guess we could talk about makin' sure anybody who decides to injure a werewolf citizen outside the full moon is tried on murder charges.\" He suggested. \"Attempted or... Otherwise.\" He grimaced. \"Might keep 'em at bay.\" Though he sincerely hoped that it never got to that point.\n\nNow, the talk of how many werewolves- that was a tricky one. \"Hard to say,\" He mumbled. \"God knows, there could be ones we ain't seen yet. Hard to keep track, too. So many of 'em look the same, it's hard to say if this brown one 'n that one brown one are the same or different.\" He heaved a great sigh. \"But I'd reckon at least four... Five, maybe.\" He looked into his cup with contemplation. \n\n\"Could be more. Could be less. I hate how little we know.\" He hissed under his breath. \"I figure we reconvene on it soon, though. \"But I reckon another cage would be good for us, at the very least. You agree on that, Miss Wilburn?\" He asked her. \"Seems sturdy. Seems... To put up a good fight.\""
}
] | 455 | 4,811 |
521.2 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "It was a cry that made Marianne lift her head from her book. \n\nShe was not unaccustomed to odd sounds, living out in the forest, especially as spring got into full swing and the animals came out in droves, as though spurred on by the sun overhead and the days that grew longer as each one passed by. The birds in the treetops would sing and squawk at all hours, the foxes would bark and screech, the wind would whistle through the trees making all manner of strange noises that, for the most part, passed by without her even noticing. \n\nBut it was not the cry of an animal that reached her through the open window, carried in by a gentle late afternoon breeze scented with honeysuckle and woodsmoke. No - there was no mistaking it.\nMarianne Wilburn may not have been a mother, but she knew a child's wail when she heard one.\nIn less than the time it took for her heart to begin to race, she was up, paperback cast aside and skirt hiked up to her knees so she could run. The source of the sound was close, clear enough for her to make out every waver, each pause as the child gasped in another breath only to come back with a sob louder than the one before, and she forwent footwear entirely in favour of finding that babe before any more harm could come to them. \n\nMuch to her relief, she didn't have to look far. \n\nShe saw him the moment she ran down the porch steps. No more than three or four years old, there he stood between the rosebushes, little hand outstretched, and she cursed under her breath. Her garden was not designed with tiny, curious souls in mind - the roses were allowed to ramble, to an extent, and their thorns were not trimmed back for safety. She was the only one who came to touch them, and she was certainly old enough to understand that the stems were sharp, and could cut if one were not careful enough in their handling of the blooms.\n\nA child would not know that until he was left to discover it. And discover it, it seemed, this mystery child had.\n\nShe rushed to him, no hesitation in the way she swept him up before he could cry out again. She sat him on her hip, so he could see her face and know that he was safe, and she hugged him *Fiercely*, for what was a child doing this deep into the woods all alone? He was far from old enough to explore without a guardian present, as evidenced by his failed attempt at touching the roses, and she doubted he could have walked all the way alone. Her eyes scanned the perimeter of the property, as though she expected a frazzled mother or shouting father to emerge from the trees calling this mysterious boy's name.\nNone came. And so, she turned her attention to the child himself, hushing his cries, gentle fingers brushing tears from flushed, rounded cheeks. \"Darling,\" She whispered, and then, \"Sweetheart, just where might you have come from? And how are we to get you home?\"\nStill the toddler cried, and Marianne brought him to her chest. The forest was no place for a babe. No doubt, if the adult responsible for him was nearby, they would hear his wailing and find their way to him, but she could not stand to hear it. The mother inside her chest that she could not be wrapped insistent fingers around her heart and said *Protect him*, and protect this child she would. \n\nAnd that was how she found herself, in the kitchen with the front door wide open so that any frantic parent might know where to find their child in an instant should they stumble upon the garden. The little boy sat before her on the countertop, having been at least temporarily silenced with a piece of one of her homemade chocolate-chip cookies clutched in his fat fist and being methodically smeared over his sweet face.\n\nThe scratch from the thorns was just that - a scratch. No mark would be left, and she dried his tears with her handkerchief so no track would linger on rosy cheeks. Who could have managed to lose him out in the woods?\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Owen Barnes",
"message": "It felt as though his chest would split apart.\n\nHazel and her wife, Estella, had asked the rest of the family to watch their children so the pair could have some quiet time. It was a common enough occurrence, and Owen and his sisters would happily rotate who watched whose children regularly. Little Luis had tottled right up to Owen this time, announcing with as much enthusiasm as a three-year-old could, that he was staying with his 'Uncle Ohwie'.\n\nHe should have been more mindful of bringing his nephew out into the woods, should have made sure to keep a closer eye, and should not have turned to scare off what he thought was a territorial buck, only to discover a small fox. By the time Owen turned back around, Luis had disappeared into the brush, and his damn heart leaped into his throat.\n\nLuis, even at his tender age, was *Fast* For a toddler- he'd taken to walking like an otter to the water and running was his absolute *Favorite* Activity. It ended in his fair share of torn-up knees and tears, but he never let it get him down for long. The toddler had only gone out about five minutes or so when he spotted Marianne's garden, and his curiosity and urge to run amongst the pretty flowers won over what little sense was in the child's head.\n\nTears marred Owen's already narrowed vision as he ran, chest heaving with emotion. The slight familiarity of Marianne Wilburn's house halted some of the panic in his chest, and his heart jolts at the sight of the open front door. He can just barely see Luis' little overalls, alongside the skirt he *Assumes* Marianne is wearing.\n\n\"*Luis,*\" He breathed, crossing Marianne's threshold. \"My god, I thought-\"\n\nLuis' head popped up, and he grinned widely at his approaching uncle.\n\n\"Uncle Ohwie!\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Though it could only have been a few minutes between Marianne's finding of the boy and the sound of footsteps behind her, it seemed to drag out into an hour. Once the tears had stopped, the child seemed happy enough, and she found that she minded none when he reached for her, and even less so about the little chocolatey fingers that curled into the fabric of her blouse. The stain would come out, or could be embroidered over. What mattered was that he no longer cried, and he was small, warm and real as he nestled himself against her chest.\n\nThat was, until he caught sight of the newcomer at the door, and brightened considerably, calling out a name just as Marianne thought she recognised the voice of her second guest. \nShe turned, and found herself looking up at not a stranger, but a man she couldn't help but call a friend.\n\n\"Mister Barnes.\"\nShe smiled, and nodded to the toddler in her arms.\n\"I suppose I have something of yours. Not to worry, he's quite safe. I found him among the flowers - or rather, heard him there first. It seems he had a little run-in with the thorns on the roses... But he isn't hurt beyond a scratch. I promise.\" \nShe couldn't miss the terror written across Owen's face, twinned with two tear-tracks carving each cheek in blotched halves. And who could blame him? The mere thought of losing a child to the trees... It didn't bear entertaining. Boys much older than *Luis* (for she assumed that was the name of the babe she held) had been stolen from their families by the shadows that lurked beyond the branches. \nShe had seen the hauntings of two of them with her own eyes, back in January, with Alma Cooper at her side. The Clark boys had never made it home. \nSweet Luis had not managed to become lost, and thank the fates for that stroke of luck. \n\nMarianne took a step forward, towards Owen Barnes, thankful that his legs had brought him here in good time. \"No need for another moment's panic. He cried only a little. You'd do well to dry your own eyes.\""
},
{
"author": "Owen Barnes",
"message": "He laughed softly in reply, wiping at the tears that managed to slip from his eyes with the back of his hand. Marianne was right, he knew, but the residual panic remained like a heavy weight in his chest.\n\n\"I don't know how to thank you, Miss Wilburn. If anything had happened to him...\" Owen shook his head. \"If there's anything I can do-\"\n\nHe paused, finally looking Luis over, and lingered on his chocolate-smeared face. Luis, in turn, held out the remnants of Marianne's cookie in his sticky hand to his uncle, his grin wide. A small part of Owen balked at the sight of the sugary sweet- Hazel was always strict on the amount of sweets her young children could have, doubly so considering Rue baked like a fiend. Sweets weren't considered *Bad* By any of the Barnes family, but depending on the amount Luis had, this evening could go *Very* Poorly.\n\nStill, Owen smiled at his nephew. \"I see you've got a cookie there, bud- did Miss Wilburn give you one?\"\n\n\"Mhm!\" Luis wiggled his arm at Owen, offering the cookie again. Owen chuckled and walked over, standing next to Marianne. He turned to her for a moment, his good eye shining with mirth, then turned back to his nephew.\n\n\"I'm guessing you like it?\"\n\nThe toddler shook his head vigorously. \"It's better than Auntie Wue's!\"\n\nOwen only chuckled again, reaching over and ruffling Luis' hair. \"Don't let Aunt Rue hear you say that, buddy, or she'll cut back on your cookies.\"\n\nLuis expression turned serious (as serious as a toddler's could), and he nodded. In the same breath, he looked down to his cookie piece and went right back to gobbling it as messily as he could.\n\n\"I should have expected him to go to a place with flowers, really- he loves them.\" He turned to face Marianne again. \"He's not been too much trouble for you, I hope?\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "She understood why he cried, and yet, much like the child in her arms, she wished she wouldn't. It was always such a bitter thing to witness another's tears, to be able to do nothing to soothe them. Had her hands not been preoccupied with holding Luis, perhaps she would have drawn Owen Barnes into a hug, a brief reassuring thing, and told him to *Breathe*, for all was well, and would be still. \n\nAs she could not, she simply smiled, and shook her head in response to Owen's words. \"There's nothing you need to thank me for. I've only had him for a matter of minutes, and he's been a darling. I'd happily keep him for hours longer if I weren't so sure he had a mama at home missing him already. And by the looks of things he'd be more than happy to stay with me, too.\" Marianne had held many babies in her life, but none quite so content at Luis's age to simply stay in her arms. Perhaps the cookie held more bargaining power than she'd intended it to, for all he seemed insistent on sharing some with Owen. \n\nThe compliment, even from a child, was enough to turn her cheeks pink. She knew Rue rather well, and had traded many a recipe with her in the past. \"Definitely don't tell your auntie,\" She agreed, but kissed the little boy on the top of his head even so. \n\nLooking back up at Owen - and she truly did have to look *Up*, had he always been so tall? - she shook her head. \"Really no trouble at all. He's more than welcome to come and see the garden whenever he likes... Although perhaps with supervision, so we don't find ourselves in tears again, hmm?\" She meant both of them - Luis from the scratches of the thorns, and Owen's from his panic, still evident in the glistening marks upon his cheeks. \"You bring him by whenever you want to. I can't promise I'll always have cookies to rival Rue's, but the door's open whenever I'm home, and I don't get so many visitors. It'd be a pleasure to see you... Both of you.\"\n\n||"
}
] | 451 | 2,606 |
542.2 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "francis estep",
"message": "Social calls had been far down on Francis Estep's to-do list as of late. Having suffered two werewolf attacks, stumbled upon his missing parents lost in the woods, and reunited with his estranged sister, his plate was full (and in truth, nothing piled on it was particularly appetizing). Today, though, he was making an attempt to sweep the setting clear and do something that might offer a few moments of peace in the chaos that had become Briar Ridge. \n\nHe was off to visit an old friend. \n\nMarianne Wilburn had been such a vibrant child, and Francis remembered her well from their early years together in the orchard. She'd been observed like a rare comet that arked across the sky, if only you should be lucky enough to catch a glimpse-– which is to say, she made visits to her grandparents' cottage in Briar Ridge from time to time. From childhood to teenage years, she and Francis would pass the long visits of their parents by walking the orchard or nearby woods: eating apples right from the tree in fall and dipping into the creek nearby in the summer months. He'd taken to her like moss on a log, but whether she'd ever noticed or appreciated his attempts at flirting was beyond him– Marianne had always been difficult to read. \n\nSince the tragedy that had brought her into the holler permanently, Francis had only seen her in town where they exchanged superficial greetings. With each polite \"Hello, how are you?\" Francis only wanted more: he wanted her eyes on him as he watched a spring breeze pick up the ends of her auburn curls. He wanted to make her laugh over a table laden with sweets, a crackling fire warming them through on a cold winter night. \n_ _\n\nThe cold truth of what Francis *Really* Wanted, though, was that Marianne was only a stitch in the fabric of his true desire. He desired a return to innocence, and simpler times. He desired an ego that was not so hungry. In his mind, reconnecting with Marianne would restore his position at a crucial crossroads of his youth: one where the fork left was the choice to alienate those he loved, and the right was the pursuit of pure, organic relationships. Before that choice was made, he hadn't been a monster. Before he veered left, he could have grown to be a happy man. \n\nShort of a spiritual reawakening, he hoped at least to share some laughs with an old friend as he sauntered down the path to the Wilburn cottage. Dotty had sent him with a basket of hickory cakes once she heard he was visiting with Marianne, though she made it explicitly clear that the treats were not meant to have Francis appearing as a thoughtful guest, only as a gift to the young Miss Wilburn from her, Dorothy Estep. \n\nFrancis' trips off the orchard property were rare these days, and so he'd dressed for the occasion. From crown to soles he wore a charcoal gray wool golf-style cap with a wool coat and fitted vest to match, a deep blue flannel shirt, gray slacks, and shined black leather boots. His typical gold rings were absent, and he noticed the empty indents from the missing jewelry as he brought his fist up to rap three times at the cottage door. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "A fresh chill in the air had brought with it new frost overnight, and Marianne could only be glad she'd had the foresight to bring in the logs the day before, because when she'd awoken that morning there had been ice on both sides of the glass, the kind of day that could only be salvaged by a roaring fire in the hearth, a heavy woollen blanket and a tattered old novel to read in the quiet of her sitting room. Feet tucked beneath her and her hair pulled up with a white ribbon at the nape of her neck, she'd settled in for a rare moment of peace only perhaps an hour ago, when the insistent knocking came at the door. \nHad she arranged a delivery and forgotten about it? Surely not, for her coal and wood shed was stacked almost to the ceiling, she'd visited the butchers' and the general store only two days before, and the season for fresh flowers was far ahead, in a springtime that was beginning to feel as though it might never come. Perhaps, then, a social call, one of the women from the town calling in for passing conversation or simply to borrow some sugar or flour. She couldn't begrudge anyone a little thing like that, and well they all knew it. That front door welcomed anyone that felt the need to come to it, and thus, she gathered herself, leaving the blanket folded on itself as she crossed the house in stockinged-feet, wondering what familiar face might brighten the threshold.\n\nFrancis Estep might well have been the last man on earth she'd expected to see there, true, but Marianne couldn't help the smile that came as she looked up to greet him - an easy head taller, he towered over her, had done since they were children chasing one another into the creek and up the apple trees. Francis had been a good friend to her then, and something squeezed tight in her chest as she met his gaze. Though they'd greeted one another in passing countless times over the years since her return, those encounters had been few and far between of late. Could it be possible she'd missed him? Could you miss someone you no longer knew?\n\nRegardless, she made haste to step aside and allow him to pass into the kitchen. \"Why, what a darling surprise it is to see you, Mr Estep.\" The title rolled off her tongue like sugar water - she wasn't sure she'd ever *Actually* Called him that. \"I mean- goodness. Francis. It really has been a while. Come on in, we'll be letting all the winter in. To what might I possibly owe the pleasure of a visit? You've walked an awful long way to be here, it seems. Did you know you have snow on your hat?\"\n||"
},
{
"author": "francis estep",
"message": "That open door was an instant balm to Francis' troubled heart, further soothed by how he saw himself reflected in Marianne's eyes. She was nothing but happy to see him. Her expression lacked the disdain of his sister, the vacancy of his father, the suspicion of his mother. The tension in his chest that had been a constant fixture for the past few months finally released, at least a stitch, and he let in the air he'd been desperate for. \n\n\"*Mr. Estep* Is my father,\" He teased, hastening indoors and closing out the cold behind himself. Passing into the house, he let his eyes wander. It was a charming home: warm and inviting. He should be careful not to relax too fully into it, there was a danger of becoming too comfortable here. \n\nHis old friend's words came quickly, tumbling over him as the warmth from her hearth closed in. \n\"It *Has* Been a while.\" He affirmed, \"Too long.\" Laughing as she pointed out the snow on him, he chose not to remove his cap, instead brushing the wet wintery decor off the top of his head and into the basin in her kitchen. Turning back to Marianne, he lined up the words of his coming lie on his tongue so they would fall naturally from his lips. \n\n\"It's been a ragged few months around here. I've just been doin' my rounds to the folks I care for, checkin' ta see how they're faring.\" He offered, a sweet smile marking his expression before he glanced around the place again, \"But shoot, you look like you're doin' fine as ever, Miss Marianne.\" He saw the rumpled blanket in the sitting room, and the abandoned novel. He was nearly sorry he'd interrupted her peace, but her delicate and familiar attention prevented him from feeling *Too* Apologetic. \n_ _\n\nHe brought forth his basket, filled with still-warm hickory cakes. \n\"I didn't come empty handed,\" He laughed, turning back the towel that covered the sweets, \"I make these about once a year, when the hickory nuts drop. There's a stand of trees east of the orchard, makes for a good haul every season.\" Dotty would be beyond livid if she knew her brother had taken credit for the gift, but with luck, she'd never find out. \n\nOther than the unabashed lying, Francis was on his best behavior. He made no assumptions of being invited to sit and stay for tea, and stood firmly just in the threshold, still done up in his coat and scarf. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "It had been a while since Marianne had smiled quite the way she did when Francis revealed the cakes, a little giggle tumbling from her lips. They smelled wonderful, sweet and rich and familiar, and she was sure she remembered the taste from childhood trips to the Esteps' home, no doubt a family recipe. And those were the days she missed, though she couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old in her clearest memories, the days they'd run in from the snow in soaked mittens and scarves, into the warmth of a kitchen with a blazing fireplace and a sweet treat to warm tiny, numbed fingers. \"I would've never guessed you were a baker, Fran. But I've no doubt they're delicious. Will you stay a little while? I don't want to keep you from your friends, of course, but it's a damn awful day to be out there in the cold.\"\n\nThe thought of letting him disappear again didn't sit so well with her. Too often in the years gone by had she seen him so briefly and let him go without so much as a goodbye, let alone a plan to meet again. No doubt they had so much to catch up on - how were things? His siblings, his parents, the estate, the orchard they'd played in with the trees they'd climbed... Marianne knew very little of any of it, these days. And with all that was going on lately, uncertainty a permanent shadow over the little town they all called home, she was growing tired of a life on the outskirts. Francis was here. Francis was something - **Someone** - to hold onto.\n\n\"Please,\" She continued, a little softer than before, as she allowed her gaze to drift back up to his face once more, \"Hang up your coat. Let me make us some tea, find a plate for these *Beautiful* Cakes, and indulge me in someone to talk to? I promise I'll do all I can not to keep you until dark.\" Another smile, because she had something of a habit of keeping her company much later than might be deemed \"Acceptable\" Or \"Proper\". While it mightn't have been becoming of a lady to have gentlemen in her home after nightfall, nobody would know they were here. And if Francis were to tell? There were enough rumours lingering about Marianne's whereabouts and affairs to last a lifetime. One or two more could do no harm.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "francis estep",
"message": "\"Well, now you know my secret.\" He grinned, almost having convinced himself by this point that he *Had* Baked the cakes. He'd lit the oven. That must count for something,\n\nWhen Marianne invited him to stay, he played it down humbly. \n\"No, no my friends'd only be keeping *Me* From *You.*\" He insisted, unlooping his scarf from around his neck. *Friends.* All Francis' friends in Briar Ridge were either folks he'd only had a few words with, ones he was lyin' to (see present company), or ones too afraid to distance themselves from him should they lose the benefit of his meager wealth. He'd never really let someone see who he was and let them decide for themselves whether they wanted to stick around, except maybe his siblings. They hadn't stuck around. \n\n\"I'd be delighted for some conversation. Especially with you. It's mighty kind of you ta let me make a nuisance of myself on such short notice.\" He swept his coat off and over the back of a chair at the kitchen table along with his scarf. He chose not to remove his hat. Sitting down politely, he folded his hands on the tabletop, studying the open basket of cakes. Dotty had really done an excellent job with them. \n_ _\n\nSo. \n\nHe was here. He had his warm welcome in hand. \n\nNow what?\n\nFrancis cleared his throat. \n\n\"How was the garden this year, Marianne? Did it give ya enough to put up for winter?\" A weak start, but a start nonetheless. So unused to making genuine connections (which, despite how much he may deny it, was what he was really chasing here), the young Estep did not know where to make the first cuts. To jump directly into childhood reminiscence was too gauche; bringing up current events would ruin the mood. Her family was well underground, so he couldn't use them as leverage, and she had no profession to ask after. Flirting would be reserved only once the gates were lowered further, and he hadn't consumed much literature or art lately to leave him with something elevated to bring to the table. This left him with small talk, which, for a small person such as himself, may just as well be considered plain old \"Talk.\" \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "A nuisance of himself? Francis, it appeared, had no idea just how welcome his presence was at the kitchen table. His smile warmed her from the inside out in a way that the wood in the fireplace could not, reminded her of days she couldn't often bring to mind, of laughter and birdsong and the crisp of leaves underfoot. She couldn't fathom a face she'd have rather opened the door to. There was something to be said for a taste of familiarity. \n\nAnd the cakes, it turned out, tasted just as sweet as his name on her tongue. She'd brought two small plates from the cabinet, bone china ringed with delicate pink flowers, and couldn't wait to try one for herself, looking across the table at Francis as she bit into the treat. Nutty and rich, still warm thanks to the careful way he'd packaged them for the journey, and every morsel catapulting her further back into memories that had lain untouched for the best part of a decade, memories that raced through her mind just as she'd raced the Estep children through the apple trees, that rang in her ears as his teasing once had. She'd never thought it possible to miss something so much as she missed those days right in this moment, and at the same time, there was nothing to miss, because he was right here, just across from her at her table, close enough to reach out and touch should she have wanted to. And lord, as she licked stray sweet frosting from her lips, she wanted to.\n\nHer hands, though, stayed kept to herself. \n\nHe'd asked her a question, she realised, and all she was doing was gazing dumbly back at him, like some kind of fool. \"The garden? Oh... Of course. More than enough,\" She promised. \"Potatoes to feed an army! And then there were the turnips, pumpkins... I should have a fine winter, though I'll admit I'm tired of the frozen ground now. A girl can only take so much ice and snow.\" She missed the springtime, the brighter mornings and warmer air, with the opportunity to take a dip in the lake or waterfall pools if the desire struck her. It was simply too cold for such frivolous endeavours this time of year - half the time she passed the water's edge, ice covered the top like a sheet of glass. \n\n\"And yourself? The orchard?\" It had been too long since she'd tasted one of his apples, but she was sure each was still as crisp as the ones they'd stolen as small children and eaten among the branches, little feet swinging freely in the air as they rested from their games and talked. \"I'll have to visit again some time. We were happy there, weren't we? Long ago, I know.\""
},
{
"author": "francis estep",
"message": "Francis was glad to hear she was keeping well. Genuinely, he was, and it was a relief to let himself feel it. There was no performance here, besides the white lies. The purity of the interaction threaded a funny kind of inspiration between his ribs. A future of relationship reform briefly glittered behind his eyes. Would the shape of a kind man button neatly into the rough skin he'd sewn himself? That glittering future quickly scattered, but in its place he beheld the glittering present. \n\n\"The summer suits you,\" He finally agreed, setting his lips in a smile as he appraised her. Whenever they'd caught up in town here and there, she tended to be laden with seed packets, garden tools, or fresh flowers. She was of Earth, like he wanted himself to be: her eyes the color of the river, her hair a summary of autumn. Francis, though he hated the cold, was more of ice: sharp angles and blanketed by unreadability. \n\"Maybe a trip south is in your future? Though the roads from town are a headache right now.\" The visit was getting the better of him, and he quickly shook off the vision of the two of them, escaping to warmer weather in his Model T. \n\n\"The orchard is steady.\" He nodded, \"Though I sold most our harvest local this year instead of– well. Instead a shippin' it north like I usually would. Needed the money sooner, to... Support the town.\" He was talking about the Anti-Werewolf Coalition, but he dared not reference it clearly, should the mood be darkened. \n_ _\n\n\"The gates are open to you at any time. I kin show you the nursery– we've had about a hundred new trees putting down good rootstock in the greenhouse for the last six years or so. They'll finally be ready to graft onto in the spring.\" Francis wasn't one to speak at length about the technicalities of operating an orchard, but in the company of a woman with such a green thumb, he felt like he could confidently predict her interest. He sighed as her final statement settled in. It had been long ago. He'd grafted a different soul into himself since then. \n\n\"We were happy.\" He agreed, the warmth of his smile honest, \"Feels like that all happened somewhere else. To different people.\" Too wistful, perhaps, he quickly gathered himself, \"But maybe that's just the winter wind talkin'.\"\n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "For a brief moment, as Francis talked of a journey further south than here, Marianne allowed her thoughts to wander again. There was no denying she'd thought about it, time and time again since returning to Briar Ridge all those years ago. The whisper of a life she might have missed out on, had things turned out differently... It called to her from far beyond the mountains and the trees. There was so much of the world out there that she'd never even heard of, not to mention the far-off lands that Papa had so often come home bursting at the seams with stories about - natural wonders far beyond imagination, rolling green fields stretching past what the eye could see, the vast blue ocean bedecked in sailing-boats and merchant ships, and that was without mentioning man's greatest creations; grand palaces and libraries,and the churches with paintings on the ceilings and stained glass casting rainbows over parquet floors. \nBut where would she go? And how? If the holler could hold such horrors as those Marianne had seen, who was to know what the wider world might have in store for a lone woman without the sense nor guidance to even know what the sunrise would bring?\nNo. The time for those fantasies had long since passed. Marianne was as bound to Briar Ridge as her parents' bones were to the earth. It was enough of a task to survive without allowing for daydreams about adventures in the great unknown.\n\n\"How would I take the road, Fran? I've neither a car nor a carriage, and my feet can only carry me so far.\" She sighed, and then that smile was back, as she stretched her leg out under the table and poked him lightly in the shin with her toes. \"We don't all have those shiny Model Ts out back, you know. And I have plenty here to keep me busy, as I'm sure you do too. I'd love to see the nursery... And the orchards themselves.\" It would be bittersweet, she thought, to walk with him where once they'd run. To know now what lingered beyond the walls and the sunlight. As he said, their childhood selves might well have been strangers. \n\nYet still he smiled, in that soft bright way he always had when she'd come home at the beginning of each summer and, before even unpacking, laced her boots and run down the deerpath to the orchard house, where somehow, he'd always known to be there on the porch to greet her, more often than not with Dotty by his side. He'd changed, but the smile remained the same. His freckled, boyish face, decorated in the flickering light of the kitchen fireplace, bore the weight of years gone by, as his shoulders bore the responsibility left upon them by his parents and reputation.\n\nBut Francis smiled, and it was as though Marianne had never been away nor distant at all. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "francis estep",
"message": "\"It's a fair point,\" He nodded solemnly on her behalf, his straight mouth breaking in a grin as he felt the nudge of her foot. It was true cars were a commodity in the town, and he wasn't so foolish as to spring on her the sudden fancy he'd fell into about the both of them escaping together, but the lightness of his mood did tempt him. \n\n\"And the orchard you shall see!\" Frans smiled, \"Whenever the weather is kind, you should come. The place looks better in the sunshine. If I'm not there, Dotty is–\" He regretted saying it, knowing full well his sister would poison Marianne against him if given the chance, but it was already out, \"— and I know she's been itchin' ta catch up with you, too.\" \n\nAlready scheming on a way to keep his sister and his rekindled friend apart, his eyes became slightly vacant. He could hide the milk and eggs from her on sunny days, forcing her to leave for the store. He could suggest she take their parents for a walk in the air in the nice weather. He could– \n\nOh, why think about it now? Here, he felt like the type of man who could lean on nothing but honesty and remain firmly upright. Of course that wasn't true, but something about Marianne inspired him in that way. In this house, under her stare, Dotty was wrong and cruel to hate him. He'd been the perfect brother, never blaming their siblings' missing allowance on her, never telling their parents she was with the Heinrichs' son behind the barn, and couldn't help with the market that morning. He especially hadn't driven her from town with rumors of a false pregnancy out of wedlock. \n_ _\n\nDorothy had been his steepest competition for inheritance of the orchard. He'd done what he'd needed to do. The way Marianne regarded him, and the way she watched him smile– it made him confident she'd see things from his perspective, however delusional this confidence actually was. Such was the magic of the male ego. \n\nAs much as Marianne might recognize a change in Francis, his acknowledgment of time's effect on her was much more shallow. He saw her as the same wide-eyed, curious child she'd always been, but grown into the proportions of herself: zipped up in a woman's dress, wearing a woman's stockings. This was part of the comfort of being here with her. In her presence, he was also returned to a precocious, moldable kid. They were both reverted to prior versions of themselves, and there was something soothing about that. \n\n\"Hope the cakes are like you remember,\" He commented, pulling himself from his fog and trying to muster a convincing brightness. \n_ _"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "The promise to meet again rang true. *Whenever the weather is kind*, because it would be, despite the interminable winter stretching out before them. The snow would melt and the sun would shine anew upon the grass and the trees. The apple blossoms would flourish, and Marianne would walk beneath them once more, feeling the breeze in her hair and warmth on her skin. She could take off her shoes and stockings and relish in the sensation of the grass between her toes. And Francis would be there. Yes, the spring would return to the fields and the sky, and bring with it fresh hope of better days ahead. \n\nShe would see Dotty, wind her arms around her instead of wrapping up love in letters with wax seals. \nShe and Francis could walk together in the orchard, trading memories and those easy smiles beneath a blue sky, bluer than any she ever saw outside of Briar Ridge. \n\nShe would remember how to breathe the air again, when the nights didn't seem so long. \n\n\"They are... They truly are. Thank you, Fran.\" It wasn't merely a thanks for the sweets, though of course those were appreciated, and she couldn't wait to return the gift with treats of her own whenever their next meeting might be. \"Thank you... For comin' all this way in the snow. Feels like about time I got to see you again proper. We ought to do this again sooner than before. You know where to find me, as I know where you are.\" \n\nShe stood from her chair, wanting to find a suitable container for the rest of the cakes before the air began to lend itself to spoiling them. As she passed him by, her hand reached out, thin fingers wrapping around his much larger ones where they rested on the table, and squeezing, *Hard*. \n\n\"Don't be a stranger to me.\"\n\n||"
}
] | 556 | 5,422 |
371 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Abel Jedidiah Hughes",
"message": "Marianne was a person that Abel admired, even despite not knowing her well. She wasn't someone he saw often, but she was someone he had see in Briar Ridge for most of his life there.\n\nHe knew that with the recent death of Francis, it was likely she would be feeling.. Well as anyone who lost a loved one would, and despite not having a close bond with her, he was still understanding that the woman was grieving, and well.. He often took it upon himself to check up on those around him, his neighbors that he held dear. \n\nAs he approached her door, he cleared his throat. Sure, this may be a bad idea, and she may turn him away, and he wouldn't blame her if she did, but it only seemed right he should come to at least give his condolences to her. \n\nHe knocked on her door, and took a step back, waiting until it opened to speak. \"Miss Wilburn..\" He said with a nod, as he gave her a small smile. \"I wanted to come by.. Check in on how you were feeling.\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "The sun shone through Marianne's kitchen window that morning, casting light upon the just-scrubbed floors. She had been up with the songbirds as usual, making herself as busy as she could, though even she had begun to admit that the spring-cleaning was well and truly done. She cleaned not to rid the place of dust and grime, but merely to keep her hands at work, for fear of what might become her if she fell idle. \n\nThen came the rap at the door - these unannounced visitors *Kept coming*, of late, and though most were welcomed, she did wish they would sometimes write ahead, or catch her as she took her daily walks through the woods and the town square. Some she understood their coming, others less so, but she would paint on a smile, and greet them all one and the same. \nSo she pulled open the door, already mid-sentence by the time it was at its widest. \"Good morning! You'll have to forgive me, I can't say I was expecting a guest so early. Do mind the floors, they're fresh mopped and I won't have no accidents in my hallways! To what do I owe the-\"\n\nShe stopped short, because as she looked up, she found her eyes landing on the face of none other than the town's pastor. Abel Hughes. \n\nTo call it a pleasure to have him at her door would be a lie, and even Marianne Wilburn could not lie to a man of God such as he. \n\n\"-surprise. Hello, Father.\" \n\nHer smile was replaced by her lips pressing into a thin line. \n\n\"I am feeling just *Fine*, thank you. To what do I owe the occasion of your visitin'?\""
},
{
"author": "Abel Jedidiah Hughes",
"message": "As she opened the door and greeted him, Abel gave her a nod. He took in a deep breath as he watched her face change. He was no mind reader, but he was no fool either. He got that look enough.\n\nHe understood, times were hard and well.. Seeing the town pastor was not everyone's favorite thing, especially not when it seemed like God had abandoned everyone. Abel knew better, he knew this was just one of God's many.. Strange trials but not everyone was as *Enlightened* As he thought he was. \n\nDespite his progress in.. Being a little more open minded, he was still the stuck up God loving man as before, so.. His manner was still something that needed improvement, especially with non-believers. \n\n\"Oh please.. Just Abel is fine.\" He said with a nod. \n\nHe took in a deep breath, \"I was just coming by really to see how you were.. You know, I know you must be having a.. Hard time, with everything lately.. And I decided it was best if I dropped in to at least check in.\" \n\nHe paused, \"I should have perhaps.. Come a bit later.. I often don't take into account that kind of thing like I should.\" He said as he quickly outstretched his hands which held some bread. \n\n\"And I brought this.. I didn't make it, but I did buy it so I'm claiming it as my own.\" He said with a small smile, hoping to maybe cut some of the tension with the gift."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Just Abel. As though using his Christian name would taste any less sour in her mouth than his title, as if she wanted so much as a speck of familiarity with the man. Did he think them friends? Was he of the opinion that he ought to be welcomed here? \nShe would not shut him out, but she would not make too strong an attempt to conceal her distaste. In all the years she had lived here, the preacher had offered her no condolence when it came to the loss of her family, devout church-goers that they had been whenever they were in the area. He had come, once or twice, those first few years, to tempt her back to the pews, and just once, she *Had* Tried. \nBut she found no comfort in his sermons then, when his word did not touch upon the great expansive darkness of what she had suffered through, as she found none now in his presence, looming down upon her as he did, presenting her with the bread. \n\nShe bit her tongue. *I have bread,* She could have said, because darling Ruth Hansen had done more than bring her bread, she had brought her something to feed and create with her own two trembling hands, *And I've no need for yours.* But she did not speak her thoughts aloud, and instead, took the loaf with a nod, and a step aside.\n\n\"You may come in. You needn't mind the early hour - I rise with the dawn and sleep with the dusk, for the most part.\"\n\nHad he noticed the missing cross that had once hung above the door, the shadow of which remained in the brickwork no matter how she scrubbed and scrubbed with all manner of products and tools? If he had, did he recognise her rejection, her *Heresy*, or did he simply assume it misplaced?\n\n\"Would you like tea, Father? Or perhaps something cold, more suited for such a pleasant day? I made a batch of wild strawberry lemonade just yesterday, it should be nicely chilled by now.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Abel Jedidiah Hughes",
"message": "At the offer of coming in, he nodded and obliged. He could tell that perhaps.. She did not want him in her home. But he stepped in anyway, he had come to offer his condolences and that he would do. \n\nHe looked around as he made his way in, and took note of the clean and tidy space. He followed her towards the kitchen and nodded at the offer. \n\n\"Oh, thank you.. Sure I would love to try the uh.. The lemonade..\" He said as he cleared his throat. He decided to disregard the term father this time, if that was what she felt most comfortable calling him, then he would let her, despite it not really.. Being his title. \"If it isn't a trouble..\" \n\nHe thought for a moment about what to say before he spoke, wanting to be careful in situations like this on how he presented his messages, the last thing he wanted to do was to well.. Stir her away from the church, more than she already seemed to be. \n\n\"Well.. I won't take up much of your time.. I suppose I just wanted to ah.. See how you were doing.. I know you have.. Experienced a lot of loss and well.. I know that can be very hard.. So with.. Your most recent loss.. I wanted to make sure you uh.. Felt as though you had the support of the community..\" He said as he glanced around. \n\n\"I have experienced.. A few losses in my time as well.. Mostly.. Familial.. And I know it can be hard, especially if you are not someone with many connections in the community which... Trust me, I am not trying to imply that is the case for you but isntead... I was just reaching out preemptively in case.. It was the case.\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Preparing the lemonade would give her something to do - an excuse to look away from him, to dwell not on the looming figure of him in her kitchen, but upon her own hosting ritual, simple as it were. She had a pattern and she'd follow it to the stitch, regardless of whom her guest might be. Abel *Was* Still a guest, and though she had not invited him to the door in the first place, she had invited him in, and now he would stay.\n\nShe fetched a glass, and filled it to the rim with ice. In went her homemade lemonade, and atop that, a neatly halved strawberry from the garden. \n\"Please, sit.\" She gestured to the table, and set the drink before one of the chairs there. \"I shan't keep you from your duties, but it *Is* So hot out.\" It wouldn't do to have the pastor taken unwell with the sun-stroke, as much as she did not make secret her disdain for his profession and his church. \n\nThankfully, he took her guidance, and she took a drink and a seat of her own - opposite him, but pulled back, rather than leaning into the conversation as she would with a friend.\nHer lips, painted shell-pink, pressed themselves into a thin line as he talked. And talked, and talked, and really said very little that she cared to hear. Perhaps it was well-meaning, but she did not have it in her to well-receive.\n\n\"We have all lost, Father. Myself more than most, as you well know.\" She sipped, and regarded him with an eyebrow raised and a look almost as cold as the lemonade. \"I have not forgotten your... Attempts at reconciliation, when I was young and grieving the first time. And I trust you have not forgotten the things I told you in return. I have little need for your... *Community*, when your community comes with conditions.\"\n\nShe did not trust his motives. Was simply waiting for him to even *Suggest* That she turn to the Lord for guidance. And what guidance would a God who did not love her, who did not love a single soul, have to give?\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Abel Jedidiah Hughes",
"message": "He looked down at the lemonade, and sat down, to which she sat across from him. \"Thank you.. This looks delicious..\" He said as he brought it to his lips and took a sip. \"And tastes delicious too.\" He said as he set it down. \n\nIt really was delicious, especially on a hot day like this. Abel had never really liked the heat. \n\nAs she continued, he nodded along. He could tell she did not appreciate his stop by, and well.. He supposed he should have seen that coming, all things considered. It was quite possible he should not have come at all.. But he was here now. \n\nThere was no backing out, and he still felt as if this was something he should be doing. Saying something to her at the very least. \n\nHe took in a deep breath, \"Yes.. I remember and.. I understand. I have had my fair share of people in the last few years reminding me that perhaps.. I have been a bit pushy.\" He said as he combed a hand through his hair, and leaned forward. \n\n\"I would like to think that I have.. Recently.. Become more accepting.. Looking back on the past I do.. Regret how pushy I have been.. How.. Unaccepting.. After all, if you'll excuse me speaking of the lord for a moment..\" \n\nHe took in a deep breath, \"The lord teaches about acceptance and love and I do notthink I have been the best example of that.. With my fire and brimstone preachings and my come to church or face eternal damnation..\" He took another sip. \n\n\"So.. Perhaps.. I also came here to.. Extend my apologies that well.. I may have not actually been as supportive as I thought I was being then. Perhaps I should have come as a neighbor and not as a preacher.\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "If one thing could be said in Abel's favour, it was that he (at least for now) understood polite behaviour in company. Even Marianne couldn't help but feel pride when he complimented her lemonade, despite her existing reservations about the man. She did so love to provide for the people around her, and perhaps in another life, Abel would have been no exception. As it was, she was merely fulfilling an obligation - besides, Dimitra would like to hear that she'd been kind, wouldn't she? Or, conversely, would be upset to hear that she had been downright rude. \n\nMarianne crossed one leg over the other, and smoothed down her skirt. Did the pastor truly mean all of that? That he'd changed his ways? And if he had, why had it taken him until *Now* To come, as though he had picked out the moment in which he thought she might be at her most vulnerable, all her walls taken down? \nDid he plan to use Francis's death as a way to worm himself into her life, and eventually, despite her express refusals over the years, coax her back into the *Church* And the *Congregation* And *The good Lord's light*?\nThe thought of it soured the lemonade on her tongue. \n\n\"And if I choose not to *Excuse* You, Father?\" She asked, her tone deceptively light. \"Say I won't have no mentions of His name in my house, what then?\" An eyebrow raised as she regarded the pastor with disdain. Honestly, she couldn't believe what she was hearing. \"You sure ain't never been a neighbour to me before now. Done a damned terrible job of *Acceptance and love*, historically. What kinda love was it when you came to my door in '22 and implied - if not threatened - that if I weren't to come to your sermons I'd be following my parents down to the fires?\" \n\nA small voice in the back of her head said 'Marianne, leave it'. A louder one closer to her lips said 'screw that'. \n\n\"Can I tell you about what the Lord's done for me lately, Father?\"\n\n||"
}
] | 371 | 2,968 |
239.294118 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "She couldn't quite put a finger on the hour she'd fallen asleep, but nevertheless, Marianne was the first to wake. \n\nThe plan, at first, had been to slumber in shifts, two of the four of them alert at any given time, in case of an untimely attack from the creatures now known to wander Briar Ridge on those dreaded full moon nights. But it seemed that, for another month, the old Wilburn house was as safe as it had ever been, and its occupants remained undisturbed and unharmed until morning light. \n\nCarefully extracting herself from the blanket she was curled under, blinking sleep and the bright light of day from her eyes, she looked around at the company that had turned up at the door last nightfall. The three men had been nothing shy of wonderful guests, given the circumstance, and she couldn't deny that seeing them arrive one by one, each with a weapon at his side, had been a small blessing. Alone and faced with a creature, she'd no doubt be a goner, with little more than the shadowy hallways and her silver locket for protection. But there had been no hiding in closets this time around. With company on all sides and boards at the windows, she hadn't felt the air too thick to breathe at all. \n\nStepping lightly over the aged floorboards, careful not to make too much noise and wake the resting men, she gathered the tin cups they'd been drinking tea from as the moon rose, and took them to the kitchen, where she lit a fire and set a pot of well-water over the flames. The least she could do, before the others were to depart, would be to ensure they left fuelled for the day ahead and whatever cleanup lay waiting in the town square. And she would do that with coffee, with bacon and fresh eggs and thickly buttered doorstop slices of bread. \n\nThere would always be problems far too difficult for one to solve alone. \n\nBreakfast was not one of them."
},
{
"author": "Noah Owens",
"message": "The light of dawn drew Noah into its its cold embrace, the pale light of the winter morning heralding the dawn of another day and another full moon past. He stretched on the makeshift cot, rifle laying within hands reach beside him, as he took stock of his surroundings. \n\nA peace over the home and the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Whatever happened the night before did not happen here.\n\nNoah pulled himself up and after taking a moment to gather himself, followed the scent of food into the kitchen. He nodded at his hostess and left his gun laying within reach next to the door. \n\n\"Is there anything I can do to help?\"\n\nThe urge was there to make himself useful, a nagging voice in the back of his mind pushing him to offer his assistance."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "\"Good morning.\" Marianne's tone was soft, still a little scratchy with sleep. Perhaps she ought to have been better dressed, considering there were men in the home, but she pushed her Ma's voice to the back of her mind, for she was sure Noah had bigger things to worry about than her bare feet on the flagstone and her uncombed hair. \"I believe I have everything at least *Halfway* Under control. Would you like to set the table? I can't imagine the others will be far behind you.\" \n\nShe turned to rifle in a cabinet, and then to hand over a folded and only slightly yellowed tablecloth. \"Here. The cutlery should be in the top drawer there, cups just above.\" If there was one thing she could keep it was a tidy home, with a place for everything, and everything in its place. Though it was a while since she'd welcomed guests in here, so she couldn't be so sure that her organisational methods entirely made sense. \n\n\"How did you sleep, after everything?\" She asked after a moment's pause, interrupted only by the sizzle of fat in the pan and the metallic clinking of the knives and forks in Noah's hands. \"If I had known we'd be so quiet, I would have arranged the bedrooms for you gentlemen. I feel I've been a questionable hostess.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Noah Owens",
"message": "\"I'd be happy to,\" He offered Marianne a small smile as he began to gather and set out the dishware, following her instructions to cups and the cutlery. Noah let the domesticity wash over him, a comfort with everything set in its place, its function well known. After the last couple full moons, he was hard pressed to comment on the reprieve granted to the household, and he let himself take comfort in the familiar muscle memory of setting the table. \n\nMarianne's comment gave him pause however, and he turned to look at her with and eyebrow arched. \"There's no need to apologize. I'd rather stay awake for most of the night and have nothing happen than go to sleep only to be suprised in the middle of the night. Besides, I've slept on worse than a comfortable floor surrounded by four walls and a roof.\"\n\nThe crooked grin he shot her disguised the truth of his words. When it came to uncomfortable sleeping situations, the Wilburn house was practically a luxury. \n\n\"You didnt happen to hear the... Commotion last night though, did you?\" The strange cacophony that had echoed through the holler had kept him on edge until it had faded into the the dark of predawn. Noah couldnt quite tamp down the nerves that they had all missed something, something important, but that ignorance had been exchanged for safety: something precious and not to be taken for granted."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Marianne couldn't help but smile at his reassurances. \"You're a good man, Mr Owens,\" She told him quietly. \"You're welcome here any time you like, full moon or new or any in between.\" And to her own surprise, though the words came out without much thought to them, she meant each and every one. Noah reminded her a little of her Julius, in his strong build and small scars, and he made it feel natural to have someone else there, another pair of hands in the kitchen and a set of booted footsteps on the floors. In her private thoughts late at night, she often feared she'd never find that kind of peace in company again. But perhaps the moons were changing her. Perhaps Briar Ridge was beginning to feel like home again at last. Only a handful of years too late.\n\nShe took the pot from the fireplace and set it in the centre of the table, placed a heaped spoonful of powdered coffee in each of the cups and gestured for Noah to help himself as she fetched milk and sugar and checked in on the stove. \"Not long now, I should think. Though I do hope the deputy and Mr Barnes wake before anything goes cold.\" \n\nIt was as she was opening the window to let out the smoke that she realised he was asking her a question. \"A commotion?\" She repeated, casting her mind back to the long night before. \"I can't say I heard anything. I fear I was asleep long before the rest of you, I'm afraid. Perhaps the others will be more helpful..\""
},
{
"author": "Owen Barnes",
"message": "It was odd, waking up in another's home. Last night had been Owen's first full moon away from home, and he'd been a complete bundle of nerves the entire time. He'd hardly spoken, instead staring out the window, knuckles white as he clutched to his pitchfork. Once they seemed to get the all clear, however, sleep was quick to take him, though his dreams were wrought with wolves howls and sharp teeth.\n\nThe sound of Marianne and Noah speaking rouse him from sleep, followed by the smell of breakfast, and Owen quietly lifts himself into a sitting position on his own cot, blinking blearily. He listens to the pair talk for a good while as he wakes fully, but the question gives him the opportunity to speak.\n\n...Not that he particularly wants to.\n\n\"I heard somethin',\" His voice is just barely loud enough for the pair to hear, \"But I don't think I know what it was. Could have been anythin'.\""
},
{
"author": "Noah Owens",
"message": "Like a well oiled machine slotting comfortably in its place, Noah poured the boiling water over the powdered coffee and added two heaping spoonfuls of sugar. \"Thank you for the hospitality, Miss Wilburn.\" He brought the cup to his lips and took a long drink of the coffee, willing it to shake off the last bit of weariness from his bones.\n\nThe sound of footsteps had him looking over as Owen approached, and he had a feeling of that the larger man practically loomed in the doorway before entering the dining area. Noah only knew him in passing, the previous night having been the first time he had spent any amount of time with the man, and he had been impressed with his vigilance. \n\n\"Some knda howlin and carrying on,\" He nodded towards Owen in acknowledgement, body still loose and languid from the few hours of sleep he had managed to get. Still, the circles under his eyes betrayed the amount of worry that had gone into the last week of midnights, the memories of the previous month's troubles not yet faded into the past."
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "\"Howling? I wonder what could've happened.\" Marianne looked out of the window, though she was careful not to gaze too long into the treeline, fearing if she lingered something might stare back. \"I hope the other houses were as lucky as we turned out to be. For all we know, the noise could've just been the foxes. You know? There's a lot of 'em out there this far out of town.\" Forcing herself to turn away, she raised her head to greet Owen. \"It's good to see you up, Mr Barnes, I hope you had a good rest. Do help yourself to coffee, the eggs are almost done.\"\n\nShe took a moment to pour her own cup, cradling it to her chest as she looked between the two men and then down into the hot, dark surface of the drink. Her own reflection looked back, bearing a grim expression she couldn't quite replace with a smile. For while the walls of her house had kept out the horrors of the night, there was no telling what walking nightmares might be waiting for them in the winter sun."
},
{
"author": "DEP. RAFAEL GUERRERO.",
"message": "Rafael Aguilar Guerrero knew what the sound of a dying beast was - too often had he seen it on the battlefield, and too often had he tried to silence it. Too often was it that they'd killed an already-dying man to silence the cries of anger, pain and suffering. The injured beast must die to protect the pack, or something like that. Those noises were all-too-familiar to the deputy sheriff, but the pain of death was what caused the nightmares. Behind closed eyes, he was barraged with the look of Johanna's face, the sound of her brother's voice, and the grief of failing one's country.\n\nHe sits up, groaning as he does - his two fiercely loyal dogs sit up with him, happy to see their owner rise and shine every morning. They have an almost personified nature to them, as if they know better to bark in a house that doesn't belong to them. They like the girls of Briar Ridge pretty well, though, and just as they'd snuggled up to Gracelyn on the day Rafael woke up, they'd nuzzled at Marianne's legs and kept her warm if she'd allowed.\n\n\"Ah... *Lo siento,* I seem to be late getting up...\" Rafael chirps, pushing his hair back before standing up, slowly, grabbing his walking stick and making his way into the room where everyone had gathered. \"...Breakfast smells delicious, Ms. Wilburn. Thank you for hosting us.\""
},
{
"author": "Owen Barnes",
"message": "Owen nods once at the offer of food, and pads over to start preparing his plate. The coffee, on the other hand, only gets a small downturn of his lips as a response. The dogs get more of a spirited reaction out of him- his eyes practically sparkle when they sit up to trot over, and he actually *Smiles*.\n\n\"It's no trouble, Mister Guerrero- I only got up a little bit ago myself.\" He inclines his head to the offered coffee. \"Miss Wilburn has quite the spread for us.\"\n\n\"Very grateful for the food, Miss, alongside you hostin' us. I wouldn't mind goin' out to check and see what that noise was, if everyone wants to stay inside for a bit longer.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Noah Owens",
"message": "Noah aint never heard a fox make the kind of noises that had filled the air last night, a strange cacophony of howls that nipped at something in his hind brain, reminding him that to these... Things, the people of Briar Ridge were nothing but prey. He took another sip of his coffee as the deputy hobbled into the room.\n\nHe didnt know him that well, had actually gone out of his way to avoid the man a bit, and hadnt known he would also be staying at the Wilburn house when Noah originally volunteered his services. Still, someone with dogs as sweet as the two who kept watch with them couldn't be too awful in his book. \n\nThe mention of Owen going out to take a look around had Noah arching an eyebrow. True, the sun was now up and the birds chattering away was a good indicator that it was mostly safe. Probably. Between the mines and the war, Noah had what one might call an over developed sense of self preservation. Noah would say that he was just a paranoid son of a bitch. \n\n\"If you go out, I'll come with ya. No sense in wandering alone till we make sure its safe at least.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "For a moment, all Marianne did was listen as the men spoke, talking of going out into the thick of the trees to seek out whatever sound they'd heard in the night. And while she understood their curiosity - naturally, with all of the recent goings-on in town, it would be good men like these to take their weapons and seek answers, or worse, revenge - she couldn't quite ignore the unspoken voice, the one in the back of her mind that whispered in her ear like a devil on her shoulder. Because that voice told her to think of what they'd lost so far, and what was still here to lose.\n\n\"If I went out lookin' for every time I heard a fox outside these windows, gentlemen, I'd have never set foot past the front porch in seven years.\" The plates were done now, but before she took them to the table, she made sure to spare a scrap of bacon for each of the dogs when they came nosing around her ankles. \"The wind makes more than her fair share of howls, and she's not the only thing rustling around those trees at night. These woods... And what lives and hides out in them... They're no friends of ours. You gotta be careful... Keep your wits about for as long as you have 'em.\" \n\nThere were many things she didn't know, but one she knew for sure was that there were the kind of creatures out there that you weren't supposed to speak about, the kind with eyes that shone back at you at dusk and tracked your every step and breath. She'd been a much younger woman when she last saw one, but that sure as hell wasn't a guarantee that they weren't still around.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "DEP. RAFAEL GUERRERO.",
"message": "\"She's right,\" Rafael nods, looking down at the plate of food in front of him. \"It's still dark out, and we don't know when these beasts turn back into men. All of us are recovering from the adrenaline of the attack - it's going to be in everyone's better interest to sit down until we see the sun. Then, and only then, is it safe to go out.\" He can't help but wonder what all had gone out through the night - he hates this, hates being idle. As a soldier, he stayed still for hours at a time, looking through his scope under European foliage, looking - waiting - preparing to strike. Despite being an old hound these days, the Rafael of before was a viper, with deadly toxin.\n\n\n\n\"*Por favor,*\" He nods to them both, gesturing to the table. \"Sit. Eat. Stay warm. Else *Senorita* Wilburn's hard work will have been for nothing. It's bad manners, no?\""
},
{
"author": "Owen Barnes",
"message": "Owen is already somewhat swayed by Marianne's reassurance on the matter, and Rafael helps put the final nail in the coffin. Still, he stays standing, slowly eating from his plate of food. Any one of them will be able to tell that he's *Severely* Out of his element, doubly so after his offer was so quickly shot down.\n\n...Is he being impolite by not sitting? He's not sure.\n\n\"Thank you for offering to come out with me, Mister Owens, even if we... Didn't.\" He clears his throat.\n\nAfter a few more moments of awkwardly shuffling in place, Owen finally comes over to sit at the table, setting his plate down in the process. He keeps his gaze settled solely on his plate as he begins to eat once more.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Noah Owens",
"message": "\"Any time,\" Noah offered the man an easy smile and a half salute before digging into his own meal with enthusiasm. Truth be told, he was perfectly happy to stay in the house for a little while longer, enjoying the last bit of peace before they would head out and discover if a new tragedy awaited him. \n\nThe sound of utensils clinking against plates filled the kitchen and the dog that sat nearest to Noah was the happy recipient of a few pieces of egg. Maybe in the spring, Noah would look into getting a pup of his own, something to keep him company during nights spent alone with only his own thoughts for company. The idea warmed him further as he finished the last bite.\n\n\"Thank you very much for the meal Miss Milburn. You got anything that needs done around the house, I'd be happy to take a look at it before I left.\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "The talk of investigation put aside for the time being left Marianne feeling much more content. It was enough for now that the four of them had made it through the night unscathed, and whatever lay before them in Briar Ridge could wait, at least, until they had had breakfast. She made sure to keep the coffee mugs filled, as the comfortable quiet cast itself over her table and her guests. \n\n\"You're very kind, Mr Owens, but I believe all is in order for the time being.\" No doubt, when the final frost thawed come spring she'd find something. A leak in the roof that hadn't been there in the fall, crumbling brickwork around the edges of the garden... She was sure that by now she'd seen every problem the house had in its arsenal to present to her. But for now, it was warm and in one piece, and that would be enough. \"I'll be sure to call upon you in the future, should anything come to mind.\" A smile, as she rose from her place to gather the plates and take them to be washed at the sink. \"You gentlemen are welcome to stay as long as you'd like, mind. Don't go rushing off, but of course, I mustn't keep you from your lives either.\"\n\nShe was sure they all had somewhere to be. These were good men, hardworking and devoted to their causes and careers. Her father would have liked them, each and every one. Still, there was no harm in taking a little longer over coffee. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "crow0951",
"message": "[I'm going to call this one and claim the ender points for us, since it's been a month <3 ]"
}
] | 227 | 4,068 |
419.666667 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "And if tomorrow it's all over, \nAt least we had it for a moment\nOh darling, things seem so unstable\n[but for a moment, we were able to be still](<\n\nMarianne Wilburn, despite all her efforts, was not able to prevent the passage of time. She could not stop the moon's waxing, could not hold off the wolves at the door.\nWhat she could do, in advance of all that was to come, was unlatch the door and place a pot upon the stove, light the lamps and welcome in Briar Ridge's people with arms wide and warm, to face together what howled and snarled beneath the cover of the night. \n\nMay was no exception to her pattern. Her name had once again gone up on the notice-board, and the fire in the grate burned like a beacon, drawing in folks in need of a safe place to spend the night, no matter who they were or what weight they bore upon their shoulders. She would let them all come, and she would feed them, and she would take up her knife and protect them for as long as she could stand. \nSo when Charlie Marsh and Emery Aiken showed up on the porch, with two young children in tow and two babes in arms clutched to their chests, Marianne stepped up like she had never stepped up before. \n\nShe ushered the couple into the living room, and put up the guard around the fire so the little ones had no chance at accidentally burning tiny fingers in its flames. She began to boil water for tea, and as it heated, raced upstairs for more blankets, and to the attic to rifle through boxes that had lain untouched since her own childhood.\n\nWhen she returned, it was with an armful of picture-books and painted-wood toys - animals, mostly, collected by her father on his travels. Richie seemed particularly enamored by an orange tiger with eyes of emerald-green, while Mickey crawled right up into Emery's lap, demanding each story to be read in turn. \n\nMarianne made tea for her guests, and checked the stew on the stove and the bread in the oven (sending up a silent thank-you to darling Ruth Hansen once again for her precious living gift). And then, when all seemed well, when others had arrived with their weapons and their well-wishes, Marianne went to Charlie. She sat beside them on the arm of the couch, and reached out to touch the delicate cheek of the baby in their arms.\n\n\"I suppose I ought to introduce myself properly to the little things, shouldn't I?\" She smiled, as the baby's head turned in response to her touch. \"Is this Bowen? Or Sidney? And *Please*, Charlie... Please let me hold them. They're wonderful.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Charlie Marsh",
"message": "Charlie didn't bother to hide the nervousness on their face. It was an understandable thing, they thought, doubly now that they had four children to look after and raise. They smiled whenever Richie or Mickey looked at them, but as soon as the boys looked away, Charlie's mouth settled back into a subtle frown.\n\nThe only things that kept them from tearing their hair out were the kids and Marianne's effort to make things in her own home as welcoming as possible. They shouldn't be surprised, they know- from what they had seen of her during the election, she was a sweet and caring woman. Being so willing to take others into her space during such a dangerous time, hell, even offering one of her rooms to hold the babes until the moon passed had solidified Charlie's trust in her.\n\n\"This one is Sidney.\" Their smile was small and genuine as she stroked the babe's cheek. \"Owen is holding Bowen right now.\"\n\nAs they said, the older man cradled Bowen in his arms, humming softly as he padded around.\n\n\"Of course, you can hold her.\" Charlie shifted until they could gently place Sidney in Marianne's arms. \"She gets a little squirmy, sometimes, but she's generally not that difficult.\""
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Marianne Wilburn had held both of April's older children as babies. She and April had been close, an almost sister-like relationship going back the best part of a decade. She couldn't count the times she'd held April through both trial and tribulation, wiped tears from her eyes and lifted her back up onto her feet. She had waited outside the room for both Richie and Mickey's births, and been among the first to take the newborns into her arms and show them the outside world. The boys had crawled their first summers right outside the front door in her garden - she had not grown roses those years, not wanting to endanger tiny, curious hands. When Jonah Baker had \"Disappeared\" In the dead of night, Marianne had come, and put the children to bed, and soothed her dear April with tight embraces and copious amounts of wine.\n\nAs Marianne took Sidney Abrams into her arms, she saw April's eyes in the child's, and it was all she could do not to let the tears spill over. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and cradled Sidney close to her chest, and in that moment could only ache. Ache that April was gone. That she had left behind her tiny twins. That those twins would never know what a woman their mama had been, and all that she had gone through to ensure their safety and survival. \n\nShe swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, and when she looked back to Charlie, she only hoped they wouldn't mention the wetness threatening to slide down her cheeks. \n\n\"Will you tell them, when they're old enough? Not everything - there's things they never ought to know about the circumstances of their births, of course, but... Please tell me they'll come to know of her. That you'll tell them... How wonderful she was. All she did for them. Tell them she lived for them, even if she couldn't live alongside them. I- I think she'll be with them all their lives either way, but I'm sure she'd like it if they knew *Who* Was watching over them.\"\n\n||"
}
] | 433 | 1,259 |
741.25 | 1776-07-04 | GuildPublicThread | [
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "In the early morning of February, Francis Lloyd Estep was found dead, with his ribcage broken open like the carcass of a crashed ship. Immediately after the grim discovery, Marianne Wilburn had retired to her family home and completely immured herself inside.\n\nThose were the dry facts. People made the connections. It was hard to keep the feelings like those Marianne had for Francis in something as small as Briar Ridge, especially when they burned this bright. People talked, and people gossiped, and people nodded solemnly and muttered their condolences under their breaths. No one seemed in a hurry to console her personally though. Ruth could understand that. She also utterly hated the stillness of the general population of Briar Ridge, the bitterest taste of death and void everyone seemed already accustomed to. She hated that she was one of them. Frogs on God's hottest plate.\n\nWhen her husband died, Ruth did not remember welcoming people, nor did she remember wanting to be welcoming. She wanted to throw up, and bleed out, and cut herself out of her body like a lump of cancerous cells. All she wanted was to stop hurting, and all the things that didn't numb her pain felt like a mocking. Every person who asked about her was a senseless moron, each one who didn't was selfish and numb. She held a grudge against God. She was most malicious when she was at her most hurt.\n\nMarianne should be as well. Ruth did not know what she would do if she found her and she wasn't.\n\n*Not* Finding her was completely out of the question.\n\nIt seemed that no one if this damned town actually knew Marianne; not even the man she gave her drumming, bleeding heart to. And certainly, no one alive. Marianne was famous for her gardening and her baking; her features cast from marble and feather, her heart beating with fervor so delicate, so deep only the poets from the ink-filled pages could recognize it properly. Of course, no creature could hold her. Of course, the one that tried fell cold.\n\nRuth never baked anything. But she knew how to make bread.\n\nSoft and balmy, with a well-baked crust, she liked the bread too much to deny herself the pleasure. Freshly baked bread well deserved the effort. Sometimes, in the middle of the forest, unkind to her worn-out feet, her heaving lungs, her fear-trained brain, she could pull out a piece of bread from her knapsack and feel right at home. \n\nRuth knew how to make bread. She even had a little starter in the clay jar on the mezzanine. In was completely alive, that thing, with its thousand mouths, porous and breathing. She wanted to give it a name, but Jack was always the one who came up with those. Ruth tried, but she couldn't make the one that *Fit*.\n\nShe wanted Marianne to make bread.\n\nIt was impossible to believe someone could not like bread. If it wouldn't cheer Marianne up, - which it most likely wouldn't, - it would at least keep her fed. \n\nRuth took a little piece of the starter and wrapped it in a cloth. She poured some of the oil she had into a cup. The flour she had looked too gray and lumpy, so she bought a bag from the store. She washed herself well and took a nice, clean shirt out of the wardrobe. It wasn't every day that she was a guest at the manor. Even if unwanted, so be it.\n\nShe would give Marianne a creature. She would give her something that lives. She would say: \"See: you can do that too\".\n\nNervously sweaty and a little too well-scrubbed, she approached the door of the beautiful old house. If Marianne wouldn't answer the knocking, Ruth'd scream. If this wouldn't work, she would break down the door. She could fix the door if she needed to, but she could never forgive herself for possibly giving up walking away from Marianne Wilburn's lifeless body.\n\nRuth brought her fist to the wooden door with deep crevasses, like wrinkles from old age, and knocked. Waiting. With her stupid oil in a cup.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "Grief had taken Marianne Wilburn in its desperate, violent claws, and with them, it had torn her apart. It tasted like the very earth in which he was buried, salt and copper and dust in her throat, and it had nestled itself around her throat like the very briars for which this town was named, scratching and constricting until it seemed, most days, as though the very act of drawing breath was too much to bear. \nFor why did she still wake each morning burdened with the need to expel air from her lungs, to have her heart continue to beat, when his had come to rest? It was his chest that had been cracked to pieces, so why did hers bear the pain? \n\nIt was a question she would never know the answer to.\n\nShe had hung sheets over the mirrors. Taken down the cross that was nailed above the entrance door. Traded in her bright skirts for midnight mourning-dress that did not fit as it had a decade ago, but that could be made for her anew with the letting-out of waists and lowering of hems. The windows had been flung open to disturb the dust, and then, when the frames and floors were cleaned of the past, locked shut once more. The staircases had been swept, as had the hearth.\n\nMarianne did not cry - for what would be the use in a cry that there was nobody left to hear? The house would lie quiet as a tomb for as long as she saw fit.\n\nThat was until there came a knock at the front door. \n\nShe had not asked for visitors, believing that if she had, still none would come. What friends she had were few, not the kind she would expect to come bearing condolences and flowers (she would have enough flowers, when the spring truly came, when the beds blossomed beneath her hand despite it all). She had been prepared to return to her solitude of years gone by, and had come to peace with the fact that what progress she had made was not to remain with her. She was not unused to loss. \n\nShe had merely hoped she might never have to feel it so sharply again so young. \n\nStill, the knock came, and she, in stockinged-feet and tumbledown hair, ran from the attic to the kitchen to answer to it. The door was pulled open, and though she had had no expectations as to who might be standing before her, Ruth Hansen's face still came as a surprise. \n\"Ms Hansen. Why, it's a pleasure. Might I be able to do something for you? Please... Please come in. Excuse the place, I- I wasn't envisioning a visitor any time soon.\"\n\nThe fire wasn't even lit. The house was dark, and cold, and quiet. Entirely inhospitable conditions coming from a woman such as Marianne, who had once taken such pride in being a beacon, a welcome haven in the midst of the woods for anyone who might find themselves upon her doorstep. She was quite unprepared for company, having been on her own since the night of Fran's passing, and as she felt Ruth's eyes upon her she became painfully aware of the state she might have appeared, with her curls uncombed and a loose thread trailing from her skirt. She had not looked upon her reflection since covering the glass, for fear of not recognising what gazed back at her there. \n\n\"Make yourself comfortable... Good Lord, you'll have to forgive me. Let me light the fire at once.\""
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "Ruth let out a breath she well knew she was holding. *Alive.* Marianne was alive.\n\nShe wasn't in her best state, that much was obvious. It seemed that what little blood she had before now completely left her body. Her beautiful eyes looked dangerously huge on her delicate face. She was also barefoot, the lower parts of her stockings stained with dust. And yet, her aristocratic clothing taste still shined through. Marianne did not realize how well she was holding up.\n\nRuth's mouth twitched, suppressing a smile she knew would be completely unacceptable at this moment. For a long, long moment between her knock and the hurried tattle of Marianne's feet down the stairs, Ruth almost managed to convince herself that she... That something bad could...\n\nNo, she should not have thought that. There was no need to provoke God with such scary thoughts.\n\n\"Please, no need to worry,\" She called out to Marianne, who seemed to be engulfed in panic, the reasons of which Ruth, knowing the woman very little, could not presume, \"I came to keep you company for a little while.\" She explained, wanting to somehow give Marianne a sign that she could be kicked out any time her soul so desires, without accidentally offending her, \"I know losing someone close could be... Lonely\".\n\nIt sounded obvious, but wasn't that what condolences were? Saying obvious things to each other until one of you could finally take a breath with their chest full. *\"It's not your fault\". \"He was loved\". \"Everyone dies someday\".*\n\nAt the moment, with Marianne so startled by her appearance, it was complicated to explain how bread integrated into the whole situation, so Ruth decided to put it off for now. She followed Marianne to the fireplace and took a stance at a respectful distance, not sure what to do with her eyes or her hands. Marianne was so well-mannered in the smallest details, it was impossible for Ruth not want to be on her best behavior. Offering to help with the fire, unfortunately, could be humiliating to the owner of the estate.\n\n\"You don't have to... Tell me anything.\" Ruth said, very carefully choosing her words. Insisting herself upon the woman who was already weak and so obliging was the last thing she wanted, \"You don't have to trust me with your feelings. We can talk about the weather too. I heard the springtime is good for planting tulips.\" \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "*No need to worry.* Lord above, Ruth Hansen was a diamond in her own right, but for Marianne, there was always cause for worry of some kind, for panic. Her nerves were nothing but tattered ribbons - echoes of the same fragility that had landed her in that awful place they'd called a hospital, so long ago now and yet still so fresh in her mind. Marianne Wilburn had been an unwell woman, and perhaps it were the fear of that unwellness returning to a degree that would be noticeable to others that brought her to this, to attempting to mask what feelings were buried in shallow graves below the surface of her psyche. She would not go back there. She would not let even a kind heart like Ruth's see what really lay in the troubled dirt. \nShe struck the match and held it to the tinder, waiting until the flame caught and began to lick along the firewood. It would burn well given time. It was good wood, not rotting from the inside. \nCould a woman become kindling, fated for naught but to give warmth and comfort to anyone who might pass her by? Or would she find herself hell-bent on burning to ash in her determination to give and give until the light went out? \n\nShe was aiming for a simple smile, to go along with words intended to reassure sweet Ruth that she was fine, that she were neither worried nor lonely, simply taking things at her own pace.\nInstead, what bubbled forth was a laugh, and a laugh not half so genuine as she'd have liked it to be. It sounded somewhere between forced and bordering hysterical, even to her own ears, as she spoke.\n\n\"Worried? Why, I'm not worried. Why would I worry, hmm? What have I to worry about, after all?\"\nShe had not said a word to a living soul since his funeral, and she feared it showed. \"No, ma'am. Nothing to worry for. Nothing to fear. I ain't feeling nothing untoward, I- I... Tea! Let me make us some tea, and then... Yes. The weather... The tulips. I ought to see if the store has any bulbs, though I fear I've left it far too late to secure some...\"\n\nAs she went on, a small voice in the back of her mind telling her to *Hold your tongue, Mari* Which she was powerless to heed, she rose from the hearth-rug and flitted to the kitchen, where she filled the tea-kettle with water and set it on to boil. \nShe could see her own hands shaking. She only hoped Ruth wasn't perceptive enough to see it too. \n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "The words came out of Marianne's chest dragging and heavy. Her voice was raspy, unused. Her laughter pierced the dusty air.\n\nRuth understood. She understood the cadence: the disoriented tone the voice gets when you have not spoken for a very long time. As if your tongue forgot its purpose, forgot how to move naturally, whipped off its instincts. As if the way your voice came out into the world was no longer under your control. \n\nIt was so easy to slip, to stay silent for days and weeks when you lived alone. It was like a deep hole, undetectable, hidden under the thick layer of old leaves; but once you've fallen in, crawling out would not be pleasant. \n\nRuth was glad she made Marianne talk. Even if for a shaky, shrill sentence.\n\nFirst flames clung to the wood in the fireplace, and Marianne stood up; yet her hands shook all the same. She was sick with a cold the flames of a fireplace dared not comfort.\n\nAnd then, she turned on her heels and ran away from Ruth.\n\nRuth's whole body grew cold. Marianne did not want to see her there. That was fine. That was... Expected.\n\n\"There is nothing untoward in grieving.\" Ruth called out, voice half-stuck in her throat, internally begging to be heard, \"This is the most natural thing you can be feeling. Animals grieve too\".\n\nThere was silence after that, deep and guilty, while Ruth contemplated what she should do. There was the longing for human contact and rejecting it all the same, like a bleeding body rejecting its essence of life. And then there was a woman who was too kind to tell her that she truly wanted to be left alone. There was a difference between these two notions. A difference Ruth could never see and understand. She was inept in feelings. She was just not that kind of woman.\n\nRuth remembered Marianne's trembling voice, her words which Ruth's aching heart absorbed immediately. \"Why would I be worried?\", unapologetically sharp. Was Ms Wilburn, so delicate and tule, being sarcastic? Did she think Ruth attempted to soothe the deep sorrow eating her alive by just telling her to stop, - the most hurtful thing imaginable, - and wanted to hurt her back? Or did her pain take the shape of hostility under the thin layer of a nervous hostess, barely clinging to her face? Lord, Ruth prayed, Please, Lord, give me the strength and the clarity to comfort this woman.\n\nShe crossed the room in four wide steps. She laid her hand on the door.\n\nShe did not open it.\n\nRuth did not want to follow Marianne Wilburn, breathe into her neck like a ghost, hang over her like an axe of an executor. Marianne clearly needed time to compose herself. Ruth wanted to give her all the time in the world. She wanted to stop its flow for her, to let her lock herself up, and then slowly, gradually, open herself again. But, more than all of this, more than anything else, she did not want Marianne to wake up one day and realize it had been years, and for the outside world, she might as well be dead. Ruth did not want the colossal weight of the need to rebuild her own little world crushing Marianne's delicate shoulders. There should have been another option there. She, Ruth Hansen, needed to become that other option.\n\n\"Please, stay in the kitchen as long as you need.\" Ruth asked sincerely, \"I mean it. I will be there if you wish to talk.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "She wanted to believe her. To take the words to her chest wholeheartedly and drink them in like the tea she trembled her way through the making of, and to allow them to bring her the comfort which she was sure Ruth intended them to give. But she could not - *Would* Not, for to allow the true weight of her grief to land upon her thin shoulders would be to accept that it was perhaps not one she could stand to bear, and she would not have herself be bent and broken by its burden. At least, not in the presence of a guest. It would be all well and good to nod, and to smile, and to agree with Ruth that all of this were natural and right, but should Marianne begin to cry, then she feared the tears may never cease their flow.\nSo, she would go on as she had started. Choke it down and bury it, as his body had been buried on the Esteps' great rolling estate.\n\nThe call through the door reached her ears, and she was brought back to herself with the realisation that she was being a rather dreadful host, retreating from her guest as she had and allowing the heavy oak to swing shut, to form a physical barrier between her and Ruth. Marianne had always prided herself upon the hospitality she showed to anyone who found themselves within the walls of her home, and yet now, she had shown Ruth Hansen so little hospitality that it simply would not do to go on like this. \n\nThe water would do just fine alone for a moment. \n\n\"Forgive me,\" Marianne sighed, as she pulled back the door from its frame, revealing herself to the older woman once more. She looked up to her where she stood. In her moment alone in the kitchen, she had taken a ribbon and pulled back her hair, using the reflection of the tea-kettle to make an attempt at appearing presentable.\n\nThat was the problem with draping the mirrors - one could no longer see what a mess she had made of herself. A part of Marianne simply did not wish to see it, for seeing it would only force her to face up to the wretched creature she had become. \n\"I did not intend to shut you out. Please, come in, make yourself comfortable.\"\n\nThere was a familiarity in taking guests at the kitchen table, though it brought with it a formality too. Perhaps a woman of Ruth's kind would appreciate, or at least understand, that the living-room was for families and loved ones. Though Marianne held no ill-feeling towards her, she also did not know her more than as a face in passing, and thus the table would be a more natural talking-place for the two of them, at least to begin with. \n\n\"Thank you,\" She said, as she turned back to tend to the water, to take two unchipped china cups from the cabinet and prepare them. The sound as each was placed upon the counter struck sharp in the still air. Marianne had been such a conversationalist, once. And now she felt almost lost for words. \"For coming here. You- you are the first to come. I cannot imagine many more will follow. Truth be told, I expected none at all... I would have baked a pie, had I known you were on your way.\"\n\nShe was familiar with mourning, with grief. In her childhood, a death had meant visitors, and flowers, and relatives distant and close alike huddled in this very kitchen, and others long journeys away. There had been a sense of comfort to be found in the reunion of hearts after such a loss. \nAs an adult, she had had no-one to share in her sorrow, and had grown accustomed to it in solitude.\nBut she could not deny that the presence of Ruth Hansen in her kitchen was welcomed, as much as she wished she had more fight left in her to protest it.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "Ruth was never the one to be defiant. She wasn't very polite, bending over backward to satisfy everyone she knew; but even as a teenager, she came to understand that it was so much easier to agree and follow. Other people usually knew more than she did, and nothing ever went wrong from listening to the advice of her mother, or her father, or Alma Cooper, the head of the dear to her heart Coalition. Ordinarily, she would not be defying Marianne, an owner of a great house, a great set of thinly painted cups, and a heart so huge it barely fitted inside her chest. And yet, a choice stood before her, the same way Marianne stood when she opened to door for her, - her hair pulled back adorably, a marble statuette of a housewife, - avoiding to look Ruth in the eye. She could play her role: Ruth was usually a horrible, crushing failure when it came to understanding her role, but what Marianne wanted from her was clear: sit and take. Follow her wishes and whims dictated by what Marianne thinks is \"Correct\" To do for a guest; try to influence her by being near, and pray that these tiniest steps would be enough to bring her back to life. Or Ruth could give her what she really needed.\n\nIn the silence interrupted only by the low whirling of the kettle, Ruth opened her mouth.\n\n\" I won't.\" She said, stubborn, \"You need to give yourself time. At least let yourself boil the tea in peace.\"\n\nRuth knew she looked stupid, standing right in the open frame, but there was nowhere to move to. If Marianne needed her, she would see it and cross. If she didn't, she was allowing Ms Wilburn to slam the door in her face, and maybe, get at least some satisfaction from it. She couldn't always be good.\n\nRuth also realized how harsh her voice sounded when she tried to make it appear braver, more confident, like she actually knew a thing about battling the all-consuming army of grief. She tried to speak softer, tried to find an approach. Anything to make Marianne hear her.\n\n\"You're a great host, Ms Wilburn.\" Ruth said warmly, \"I promise. I live in the forest, and even I've heard about the warmth you give your guests. And your famous tea, and your famous garden. But today, I am here for you. Not the other way around. I insist.\"\n\nShe stayed outside of the threshold, but for a second, she outstretched her hand instinctively, like you would do when you see an animal asking to be pet, or when someone's falling off a cliff and your brain still has the futile hope of saving them. \n\n\"I will not think of you worse if you let yourself go. If anything, it will only ease my worries.\" Ruth took a sharp, much-needed breath. Her chest was tightened, as if all the oxygen suddenly left this lovely kitchen, \"To tell the truth, I am worried about you, Ms Wilburn, worried sick. I am scared. And I am scared most because you aren't crying. People who aren't crying do terrible things to themselves, Ms Wilburn. Horrible things. Such is grief. It always takes, doesn't give back, and never teaches you anything. It is the worst failure because it isn't yours.\" Ruth couldn't stand still anymore. She crossed the doorframe and took Marianne's shoulders in her hands, firmly and carefully, looking her in the eyes, \"You hear me? It isn't yours to bear.\"\n\nRuth spun around and returned to her former firm place of standing. She crossed her arms so they would stop shaking. It wasn't a surprise that someone else's pain forced so much on itself into Ruth's chest when that pain was so close to her own.\n\n\"I know how it feels,\" She confessed, this time struggling to raise her own gaze off the ground, as if it suddenly became as heavy as a boulder, \"To lose a man who had your heart. I hope to God this is the last time you will ever feel such pain. Nothing in the world can ease it.\" She looked at Marianne again, trying to read something at her face, anything, anything at all; to see if the smallest part of her was starting to melt, or if Ruth had, once again, barking up the wrong tree, \"But if you would like that, I can hold you.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "*I won't*, said Ruth Hansen, and Marianne Wilburn froze where she stood, having taken only one step towards retrieving the milk from the icebox and finding she could not take another in its direction, rooted like the roses in the soil as Ruth went on. \n\nTo give herself time would be to admit to the world at its widest that she had not healed as she had hoped to. To do that, she would have to take a long look at herself - not a look in a mirror at the side she showed to others, but a deeper one, inside her very self, a place she had not so much as glanced since the morning after Francis's passing for fear of what might be revealed to her from within. There was a heart in there that ached with every beat, with grief and longing and would-have, should-have, could-have, for a past she could not change. What lay alongside that heart, Marianne feared, would break her should it find its way to the surface, and that was a risk she could not take.\nCould she?\n\nShe had thought that she could not live a life that did not have Francis in it, when she learned that his injuries were too great to lend him a chance at survival.\n\nAlmost ten years ago, she had thought that she could not go on without her ma, and days before that, without Pa and her beloved Julius, heavens rest their very souls. \nTwice now in her life, Marianne had been of the opinion that she simply *Could not* Do something, and she had done it anyway. She was still here, standing before the tea-kettle, listening to the hiss of the water within it and to Ruth's voice. For all that she had doubted her own abilities, she had surpassed all expectations set upon her.\n\nSo, *She could not risk releasing her heart*. But what if she did it regardless of potential consequence? If she gave herself the time that Ruth spoke of and let things take their course without complaint?\nIf she \"Let herself go\", to use Ruth's own words. \n\nIf she cried. \n\nShe was surprised, when the touch came, when Ruth's work-worn hands found themselves upon her shoulders and turned her so that she faced the other woman head-on. Marianne held her head high and slightly set her jaw, defiant, determined. She had only considered her options, and had no intention of caving in. It simply wouldn't be proper for her walls to crumble in company, no matter how Ruth insisted that she had already been a good host, and that she ought to be weaker to her emotions, to let them in. A great outpouring of sorrow was something to only be experienced in private. \n\nIt seemed that Ruth Hansen, or Fate, or perhaps some amalgamation of the two, cared none for Marianne's intentions, for as soon as Ruth's touch had landed upon her and their two gazes had met, she was gone again, back to the doorway like a great portrait to a frame carved custom for it. The look with which the older woman regarded her would not have been out of place in art, either - Ruth's face, steadfast as it had been before, now betrayed emotion of her own, as she spoke yet again of the loss of a man who had loved her.\n\nMarianne did not know Ruth's story. She did not know from whence she came or what had brought her here - whether *Here* Meant the Wilburn house or Briar Ridge as a whole. She would have liked to learn, and the Marianne of old would have grasped at tendrils of a story unspoken, led Ruth by the arm to the kitchen table and had her pour her heart out the way the tea poured to the cup. The Marianne of old had not been entrenched in fresh grief such as this with no way to numb the way it ached. \n\n\"I have cried, Ruth,\" Said this Marianne, now, stood in the middle of the kitchen floor still frozen - a shipwrecked maiden marooned upon the deserted island of her sorrow, without a fire to send up a signal nor a raft to carry her away from it. \"My tears were spent the night I lost him. You say the failure is not mine, but I was supposed to bring him *Home* And I could not. How am I to see that as aught but my own failing? I was too slow, too small, too weak. I pulled him from the thorns yet I couldn't do *Shit* To keep him breathing.\"\n\nHer curse hung in the still air between them - an atmosphere that could have been sliced without a knife, with only bitten fingernails. \n\n\"I have hurt like this before. I will hurt again. It is, perhaps, a curse tied to all those who allow themselves to be loved by my heart, to be stolen away by the mountains and their horrors. So I will not have you, or anyone else, hold me.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "Ruth Hansen's heart was beating in her chest loudly, rapidly, like a drum. She wasn't used to being mad at. She usually got nervous when that happened, nervous and lost. When she trusted the people so much, any stab, however small, felt childishly hurtful.\n\nBut Ruth tried to think deeper. She wasn't good with emotions, and the first layer usually was already a puzzle to her. But she tried nonetheless.\n\nAngry didn't mean helpless, angry didn't mean \"Giving up\" And that was what mattered. So, what if she was angry at Ruth for saying the wrong thing? Ruth didn't know what the right thing was, - in her own time, she didn't want to hear anything at all, and she didn't heal, either, - but that was all right too, as long as she kept Marianne talking. Maybe, the anger was good for her, or maybe, it would mean that Marianne came closer and closer to throwing Ruth out of her house. As much as it would sadden Ruth, to lose a potential friend so quickly, the more important question came to life: would throwing her out make Marianne feel better, or would it only make the host's guilt worse?\n\n\"His chest was broken through, Ms Wilburn.\" Ruth said firmly, \"God Himself couldn't have saved him then. It's not your fault.\"\n\n\"And no one in town thinks that either,\" She added. It was hard to say how much Mariann valued her reputation, but Ruth couldn't imagine this thought never grazing her mind, \"The talk's about poor Ms Wilburn who locked herself in. They pity you; they miss you. They are afraid Ms Wilburn buried herself after him, but chose herself a bigger grave.\"\n\nNot trying to prove her words, but following her thought, her gaze drafted onto the high ceilings of the cozy guest's room they came from. Oh, what a grave that would be. What a big, well-loved, beautiful grave.\n\n\"You may hurt again.\" Ruth agreed thoughtfully, with hesitation, \"But the pain will only stop if you let yourself go through it. The rain cannot leave if it hasn't started. Otherwise, you'll have to go through life with one, two, more griefs hanging on your back. Ain't that a cursed fate for such a great young lady?\"\n\n\"Tears are like rain, Ms Wilburn, they come and they go. You cannot ration or rule them; cannot decide when it's over. I'm sorry.\" She said, and the apology was the sincerest sound in the room. Ruth was apologizing for the world and for herself, for not being capable of holding it back, for barging into her house, for breaking her routine, for standing here and demanding her to do... What exactly? Ruth didn't know. She was secretly hoping Marianne would let it slip what she wanted and then do it herself. She could never guess: everyone grieved differently, everyone needed different things. Ruth wasn't even the right person to be here. But one thing was clear.\n\n*No holding,* Ruth swallowed, *Sure, of course.* She regretted her previous touch already: her palms burned with shame. She should've stood where she stood. She shouldn't have come closer. \n\n\"Anything I can do for you?\" She tried to be direct. Maybe, thinking about her wants would lead Marianne to think about her feelings, \"Is there anything you want?\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "The anger, misplaced as it were, directed towards a woman who had done nothing but try to help, felt like the release of a long-held breath. It wasn't until it had left her that Marianne realised she had been keeping it within at all. And, to her surprise, the letting-out of it all did not burn her throat the way that swallowing it down did. It was as though the venom in the words had resided until that moment in her own body, and now, spat forth with curses and defiance, it found itself spilled upon the scrubbed floors, and then, falling lower still, sinking into the foundations, and to the earth below. \nIt was the very ground beneath her feet that had placed bitterness in Marianne, that had tied it up in bloodied ribbons with shards of regret and guilt and shame. In her ribcage it had grown roots like an unwelcome weed, and of all people, a gardener ought to have recognised the blight.\n\nOnce, and only once, when Marianne was little more than a girl, her very first spring in the soil she now loved so, she had made the mistake of planting mint within her manicured beds. There had been nobody to warn her that mint spread in the ground like wildfires in the brush in the height of dry August heat. All her work had been ruined that year, her only crop being enough leaves to make tea for the whole town twice over.\n\nHad she taken the guidance of the books upon the living-room shelves, she would have learned long before planting that her work would only lead to woe. \n\nShe had told herself, that miserable summer, that when advice came to her, she would do well to take it in the future.\n\nHere in her kitchen stood Ruth Hansen, stood a woman whose heart had lain among the thorns of loss in the way that Marianne's own heart lay. Beating, broken, bleeding. And Ruth Hansen held out understanding, extended an olive branch again and again, when the scythe of Marianne's biting words seemed hell-bent upon cutting it back. \n\nMarianne stopped.\n\nThe wrath in her very bones could not become the mint. \n\n\"You've nothing to apologise for, Ruth.\"\n\nHer voice was quieter than before. \n\n\"Everything you say... It's all been true and right. And I... I took the hurt that befell me and I choked it down until it tried to suffocate everything else within me, and then I- I tossed it back at you like it'd hurt you too. Like I *Wanted* To hurt you. And I... Lord, Ruth, I don't. I never wanted anyone to get hurt because of me, and I'm here... *Cursing* At you and pushing you away and I- I don't- I just... *I'm* Sorry. You ain't come all this way to be spoken to like you're the Devil herself.\"\n\nShe bit her lip, hard enough to taste copper. \n\n\"You've been holding onto something in your hands ever since you came to the door. Tell me what's in your hands - and *Please*, please, sit down and let me...\" She gestured to the tea things, hopeless, helpless, desperate.\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Ruth Hansen",
"message": "Of course, Ruth had things to apologize for. She chose to carry the world on her shoulders like Atlas, on her chest like a mother carries a baby. And, just like for a baby, she was responsible for the world now. She was a representative of the outside world: invading Marianne's privacy, forcing fresh air into her weak lungs, tugging on her hands, whispering things impossible, painful: *\"Wake up.\" \"Come here\". \"Be touched by the hands that belong to everyone but the one you miss most\".* She was sorry for putting Marianne through this, sorry for not having any other choice. But Marianne didn't think so. \n\n\"It doesn't matter how much truth I say, Miss Wilburn,\" Ruth confessed. Now that Marianne finally spoke sincerely, honestly, from her heart, it was as if a balloon tore inside of Ruth, and the words it was filled with were pouring out, \"Truth rarely does much good. Truth rarely makes people happy. I just want you to be happy, Miss Wilburn. I just want you... To be alright\".\n\nAt first, Ruth didn't even understand where that pause came from, *What did she choke on*. But then she realized: those were tears. Ruth cried silently, her nose sniffing, her arms bent awkwardly, palms pressed close to her heart. She didn't know why she was crying, or what those tears meant; all she knew was that the tears were dripping and didn't want to stop.\n\nRuth looked down at her hands, almost surprised to find the cup still in them. In the rush of emotions and feelings, her and Marianne's, intertwined like the roots of a tree, she still hasn't found a moment to put it down.\n\n\"That's oil, Miss Wilburn,\" The tears were still going, so Ruth was forced to talk through them. Her voice was more hoarse and wetter than usual, \"I also brought... To you the flower and the starter. I know you bake, and I like to bake too. A good loaf of bread always makes me feel better. I know we all sometimes forget to eat in our worry. I just wanted...\" The tears intensified. What was with her today? Was it the house, was it Marianne, was it the garden, the teacups, abandoned, the way Marianne looked almost through them, through *Everything*, like she was a ghost trapped here, like she would leave as soon as Ruth would avert her eyes, \"To make sure you were alright...\" Ruth kept crying. She didn't know what it was, but she knew she couldn't bear it.\n\nSooner or later, the tears dried up.\n\n\"I will sit down, I promise.\" Ruth said, wiping the tears off, her voice soft and shaken like jelly, \"Please, come with me. All of you, the rage and the pain included. Please.\"\n\n||"
},
{
"author": "Marianne Wilburn",
"message": "When Ruth Hansen began to cry, Marianne thought that that might truly be her end - that her heart could not take being the cause of another's tears, when she had been so careful to hold back her own, walking on eggshells so as not to allow her grief to infect others. As though she could spill salt into the creek and poison the water supply for anyone unlucky enough to find themselves downstream. It had not taken water, in the end. Only words. Words which Marianne could not help but regret, as she listened to the truth pour from the lips of one Ruth Hansen, and ached, and ached, and ached. \n\nShe cared. \nNot only did she care enough to be curious, but she cared enough to come, at a time when Marianne's door was closed. She had come not for personal gain, but out of the good of her sweet shaken, damaged heart, and she had not come with empty hands and questions, but well-wishes and a gift. \n\nMarianne had read in her recipe books about the kind of bread one could bake with something small and alive, kept in a jar in a dark pantry until it was needed and brought to light. Her grandmother had had one, right in this very kitchen, when Marianne was little more than a babe. She remembered sitting up on the counter, watching Granny's floured fingers feed the starter with measures so exact she would laugh and lament that she was wasted as a housewife, that she should have been some mad scientist. To Marianne, she had been a witch, whipping forth life with such simple things as wheat and water.\n\nNow, Marianne pictured Ruth Hansen, in a kitchen of her own, diligently dividing a jar of her own in two, to bring half to the door of a woman she had never met, never known. With it, Ruth had brought her trust - trust that she, too, would tend to the little thing, use it to provide - and not only that, but friendship.\nWhat's more, Ruth Hansen had brought her *Hope*. A reminder that, no matter how dark it might seem, the door would open again, and the sunlight would shine, and much like the starter, Marianne would come alive again, with just a little help. Help she had been simultaneously too proud and too afraid to ask for, but help that had come all the same, in the form of a woman from the forest and a little cup of oil.\n\nMarianne crossed the kitchen tiles in two, three quick steps. She took the oil from Ruth, and replaced it in the older woman's grip with her own two hands. To an outsider, they would have made an odd pair - Ruth's weathered fingers, callused from her years spent in the outdoors come rain, wind or shine, against Marianne's lily-white touch, the summer not yet upon Briar Ridge strong enough to give her her yearly freckles. But to Marianne, in the moment that they shared nothing more than a tight squeeze, Ruth was all she wanted. All she *Needed*. \nShe had needed to be shown for a while now that she was not alone. \nWith Ruth here, she now knew that to be fact. \n\n\"You're a wonderful woman, Ruth Hansen,\" Marianne whispered, and only now did she lift her gaze and affix Ruth with grey-blue eyes, stony in their expression but, much like Ruth's own, shining with unshed tears. \"I cannot tell you *I am alright*, for you and I both know that to be a lie plain as day. But I will be. I promise you, with all my mendin' heart, I'll find a way to once again be well.\"\n\n||"
}
] | 733 | 8,895 |
235.263158 | 2018-11-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Her wings were beginning to ache from the distance she had to travel while fighting her way out of the northwind snow. Even though it had been light, the white flakes soaked deep into her feathers like rain which caused them to grow heavy. This made her have to throw in more effort when it came to the sky. However, her effort was rewarded when she noticed more of a kingdom than forest with the large castle guiding her towards it. She studied the castle and the its structure before focusing on the landscape beneath her. She was in ibethiel. \n\nCecilia glided her way down towards the town by the castle and attempted to figure out which house she would be stealing clothes from. It wasn't until she saw a peasant female walk out of a house who looked similar in size to the shifter when Cecilia decided to make her move. Within a blink of an eye, Cecilia hugged her wings around her body so she would dive to the ground with great speed. As she reached the house, Cecilia instantly spread her wings from her body so the air would capture under them, which prevented her from plummeting into the ground. Using her talons, the shifter grabbed a light dress from the clothes line before lunging back into the sky.\n\nShe flew until she was enough of a distance from the town so she could shift without worrying about someone watching her. Sure shifters were slowly becoming well known but not because they were growing in numbers like she wish could happen, but because of all the murderous things she had done to get her way along with the lying and thieving. Placing her talons on the ground, Cecilia pulled her wings close to her body before beginning her shift. Unlike the last few times she had shifted while in the barn, Cecilia was tired and once again hungry from the flight and previous shifting so it took longer than she would have liked. Once in her human form, the shifter didn't waste time in throwing the dress over her head and allowed it to fall down her body. As assumed, the dress fit her perfectly though the area around her bust was a little too big. Not that she cared too much about that. \n\nNow it was time for her to find some food to steal that she didn't need to hunt. Or perhaps she could steal money to buy what she needed but that was always a trickier task. The town was buzzing with activity to Cecilia's liking. It meant many people were too distracted to know what was going on around them and the crowd was so large that she could slip through groups of people without being caught. As she did so, Cecilia used any chance she could to take something she could use to put her food in. It wasn't a difficult task as she immediately noticed someone paying a man running a stall on the streets had left their bag vulnerable to her clutches standing beside them. It was the easiest of her thieving but now, she needed to steal food.\n\nThe main edible items she managed to get her hands on were fruit and vegetables, her least favourite but it would get her through the day. She could risk herself stealing meat that she could easily hunt, they were watched carefully by the humans as meat sometimes wasn't an easy thing to come by."
},
{
"author": "scitisverum",
"message": "Scitis arrived in the Marketplace as he observed the crowd, the activity brought his mind to remember the areas that he was in before. He was low on funds and heard that his Bounty was near this area, one thing he knew was that anyone that wanted to hide goes to loud areas like this. It may not always be the case but he found that it would be accurate to make the assumption, that the target was in this area and would be nesting up. He walked past the people as he began to focus more on focused footsteps as he tuned out the activity around him, he felt the vibrations of those around him and the Carts travelling down the streets as he avoided them with ease. He noted that there was no one that was out of the norm around this area as he simply stopped and let his eyes wander through the crowd, he wanted to take his time knowing that he should overestimate others rather then under estimate them. He felt something nearby as his instincts brought him to the Food Stalls as he gave an inquisitive look as he continued to the area.\n\nWhen he arrived to the Stalls he looked over all of the people running them, Merchants and their Families alike knowing the saying that anyone has a waterhole food counts as well. He then looked to a transaction that rose his suspision as he looked closer, he thought that the person that was buying was a little suspisious. He grew closer and paid no mind to the bag of vulnerables as he followed."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "She smiled politely towards one of the merchants as she looked at the food displayed in the stall. Cecilia did her best to look like a potential customer, it made it easier for them to trust her enough to turn their backs for the few seconds. She knew it wasn't smart but the smell of a rabbit was getting too much for her and it was hopefully small enough to not be missed too much. Taking advantage of his focused attention of another character, Cecilia tore the rabbit from the rope it had been hung up with and ran from the stall into the crowd. It wasn't long before she could hear the shouting of the word \"Thief\" By the merchant who obviously saw her as she ran away. \n\nDeciding she had enough on her to last her until the morning, Cecilia began to walk from the crowded streets and towards a more isolated part of town where she would be able to hear herself think. Reaching her hand into the bag she had stolen, Cecilia pulled herself out a large red apple that looked ready to be devoured. Taking a bite, she was amazed at how nice fruit could taste. The last time she had anything that wasn't flesh of an animal was when Cecilia lived with the late king. Even then she mainly dieted on animal meat, sometimes human."
},
{
"author": "scitisverum",
"message": "Scitis observed the merchant as his eyes caught Cecilia, he felt his heart drop to his boots as he saw her rip the Rabbit from the line as he slowly began to recall their last meeting. He walked to the Merchant that was realizing the even that took place, Scitis took a diplomatic angle to it this time. He approached him after he shouted there was a theft as he put the approximate amount for a Bear Skin for good measure, the words \"Don't ask\" Escaped his lips as he ran following her. Even if he was to take advantage of his ability he would have only brought more attention as he began to slip between large groups. Trying his best to keep out of her line of sight as he slowed down as she got to more crowded streets.\n\nAt this point he walked in a calmly and very slow manner as he knew where she was going to go, anywhere that was away from sight in town. Unfamiliar with the Town he merely followed her ensuring that there was going to be no doubt he was following her. He felt his Bandages begin to itch as he began to grow impatient as he finally was able to see that she was finally looking like she settled down, he started to stay at the corner waiting for an oppertunity to get you off guard."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "She strolled through the streets, unaware of the man following her. It wasn't because her sense of smell was failing her but because she left a largely crowded area, she expected some human scents to linger on her. A deep sigh left her lips. She didn't know what to do now. Cecilia didn't want to run off into the forest even though that was her most favoured place but she had a feeling that she should steer clear of the woods for a few days. It was like she knew something was going to happen in the unforeseen future but didn't know exactly what. \n\nThrowing what was left of the Apple she ate, Cecilia threw it over her shoulder before digging her arm back into the bag. Wrapping her hand around a bread loaf, Cecilia felt her nose scrunch upwards in distaste. She didn't remember grabbing one and was surprised considering she had a great disliking towards bread. Deciding to throw the loaf out of her bag, the shifter continued to dig through her goods while making sure to leave the meat alone."
},
{
"author": "scitisverum",
"message": "Scitis walked around the corner in dead silence given the items being dug through, he was sure he would need to prepare to defend himself anytime someone that was secluded in a alley and digging through loot. It could end badly for him he took the risk. He made it just behind her as he put his hand to your Shoulder as he tried to give a friendly pat, having his other hand out away from her line of sight as he gave a gut filled chuckle. \"My, how long has it been? I almost want to say a year...\" His hand rested on his Blade on his belt as he observed the food that was being thrown as he begins think more.\n\n\"Are you quite alright? You look... Paler from what I remember even in the cold we were in before.\" Scitis then strolled in front of her showing himself, his Arms were covered with the same Bandages before. Leaving the memories of his torn flesh, he knew that his approach may have been not exactly pragmatic but he wanted only to get something to rationalize her actions. Especially the uncharacteristic way she was tearing through her Bag like a Feral Animal."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia froze as she felt someone pat her shoulder from behind. Just as she went to reach up and grab his hand so she could snap the bone which would have broken his arm in two, The man took his hand away to stand in front of her. Her eyes gazed over his appearance as she stepped back with a warning like growl which scratched at her throat. He looked familiar yet she couldn't put her finger on it. Her suspicions were confirmed when he spoke. Her hands clutched onto the bag she had stolen, protective of the food it held inside. \n\n\"And you are?\" She asked, taking a couple steps back as she did so. She didn't trust this man so while speaking to him, her eyes beginning to glow a bright blue which indicated she would shift soon. If she were to attack the human though, she would make sure that she didn't feed off of him as human flesh tend drive her wild and would rather Toula didn't make an appearance. That always lead her to being caged or locked up."
},
{
"author": "scitisverum",
"message": "Scitis sighed a bit as he looked to the ground and slowly yet in a playful manner approached, he then rotated slightly to the left as he continued his approach from her stepping back. \"I do recall your hospitality which is why I have seeked you out, more as a recent even since the target is you. I heard of your wrong doings but seeing as you have saved my life quite some time ago I wanted to give you this warning. I also wanted to ensure you got the message, seeing as you won't be much to talk I will have to get it from you once you wake up.\" \n\nScitis then drew his blade as he gave her a look of intensity as he pointed it towards her, he wanted to make sure that it was obvious what he intended to do as he prepared for anything she had ready. He noted her blue eyes as he was prepared also with the other hand on a Dagger to get her down if he needed to, hiding his dagger behind his back."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "The moment she saw him draw his blade, Cecilia no longer cared about the bag and instead threw it to the side as she was now focused on the man in front of her. Her body twitched as she looked towards him with a murderous glare, her body wanting to shift but was held back by Cecilia. She wanted to find out more before she went in for the kill for threatening her. \n\n\"And who put this target on my back?\" She snarled out, no longer stepping backwards. She didn't remember this man or saving his life so she wasn't going to take his word about a 'warning'. \"And surely you were smarter than to bring a weapon that wasn't coated in anything that could bring me harm.\""
},
{
"author": "scitisverum",
"message": "Scitis felt his heart speed up when meeting with Cecilia's cold glare as he knew this wasn't the same Woman with a child, he felt his empathetic side kicking in as he pushed it to the side. He was knee deep in this and needed to see it through he was the one threatening her in this case. He took a defensive stance as he continued hoping to say enough to calm the Woman.\n\n\"I met you when you beared a Child. I am sorry if things turned out for the worst but it is clear you have changed. This does not change the fact that I owe you either way. The one who hired me must be someone of high wealth, it is enough to get me through life comfortably. Seeing the number and the person that is put on, they would need to pay me much more to actually do the deed.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "She felt conflicted on what she was to do in the situation she was in. After his speech, Cecilia's body immediately settled so she was no longer holding back her animalistic side. She had pushed away any memory involving the child that was no longer around. It had been many years ago when it had happened. \n\n\"Don't speak of it.\" She demanded as her eyes began to settle back into their original shade. \"Many things have happened since that time period that would change many people.\" She continued as she kept a careful eye on his movements. Even if he said he owed her, she wasn't going to risk herself by letting her guard down. She wasn't truely surprised that someone wanted her dead. \"Well that's great I guess considering death is a painful son of a bitch and I would rather not go through all that again.\""
},
{
"author": "scitisverum",
"message": "Scitis listened to her words sincerly as the focus and determination left his eyes as he could only assume the worst for the child, he felt in his very core a sorrow that was only met when he lost his Family. He closed his eyes as he threw his blade away as he wanted to ensure she knew he was disarmed within that degree. \n\n\"If I knew you went through that... I truely am sorry to hear the sorrow you have had to deal with. If only there was something I could do.\" Scitis held his hand on his Dagger, he wasn't sure about his safety in the situation as she would be as well. \"I hope that you know that as long as we come to a agreement no harm will come to you, I only wish to speak and perhaps help you in these hard times. It maybe hard to believe but I will help if you feel you need it.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia didn't enjoy the way he was looking or speaking to her. She didn't want the pity he gave but she was glad he threw his weapon away. Even though it would seriously wound her, it was the thought of having the blade in a position where it was obvious the person wanted to do her harm. \n\n\"Don't be sorry. There is nothing to be sorry for.\" She replied to him with a deadpanned voice. His offer to help her through the shifter of, her eyes warily observing the man in front of her. Why would he help a shifter like herself? Especially one with a well known reputation of being a murderous bitch most of the time. Perhaps he wanted to learn her routine before he killed her, not that she had one. \"And why would you help me? I am capable of defending myself. And what agreement would we be coming to?\""
},
{
"author": "scitisverum",
"message": "Scitis could sense her distaste in the way he was speaking, he could simply as her breathing shifted slightly as he closed his mouth. He simply waited as he felt a sense of security as she seemed to calm down with him disarmed. Scitis only looked her with a look of patience allowing her to absorb the information.\n\n\"I understand that you might not find it useful, but I only wanted to ensure what was left of the you I met how I felt. Now that I have that covered we can talk more openly.\" He let go of his Dagger as he went into his bag as he took out a letter with the seal still applied, he knew that if they would continue any form of conversation he would need to prove how he could help. \"This is the Letter I recieved, it mentioned that you were in this area and gave a description. There was no name or identification otherwise, they knew my MO with tracking. I can find who I need with the minimum of information. I hate feeling like I owe another, I simply would like to help you to pay back for saving my life.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia snatched the letter from his hands and brought it to her nose. Taking a deep inhale, she did her best to find any scent that could lead her to the one who wanted her dead but was met only with the Sell-swords scent. That was disappointing. \n\n\"And how do you exactly do you plan on helping me?\" She asked while she gazed over the letter. She wondered how many people have paid men to have her murdered, knowing full well that she had killed many that have made an attempt at her life. Handing back the letter, Cecilia walked towards her bag that she had thrown earlier before she picked it up from the ground. She checked to make sure the food inside was fine then reached inside to pull out a piece of fruit to eat. The shifter looked back to the sell-sword and pinched her lips together in thought. She didn't even know the name of this Sell-sword who seemed certain that he owed her. \"What is your name?\""
},
{
"author": "scitisverum",
"message": "Scitis noted how she was examining the letter and found himself more curious as she sniffed it, he didn't hide his interest as he gave a obvious look towards her. He then took the time to watch her face seeing if she found anything new, he saw her face go flat as she did so guessing she didn't find anything good.\n\n\"Well, from the money this person was willing to pay me... I am more then willing to guess there are more out there ready to get you. If you would accept my help I would like to help you where I can. I have the money if we need it, I just took the job for the challenge. I think a group of people like me sounds like challenge enough.\" Scitis then revealed his arms as he extended it towards a pebble nearby as it pulled towards him, his arms twisted tighter around his arms. \"Since you don't remember my name I am guessing you didn't remember my ability. My name is Scitis, Scitis Verum.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Cecilia knew she should have taken advantage of the sell-sword but she just didn't have it in her to trust him. Perhaps he wanted to wait until she was at her most vulnerable. As she but into the sweet fruit, the shifter weighed the pros and cons in her head. Her brows raised up in surprise when she watched him perform his little trick, trying to think back on when they had last met but it had been some time ago and most memories Cecilia had blocked out. \n\n\"Well that was interesting.\" She commented as she took another bite. \"Ok so if I say yes to you helping me, how will I know you won't slow me down? I mean, I am a shifter after all. I do shift into animals meaning sometimes I'll be in the air, especially when crossing the ocean.\" Sure he could get a boat but it wouldn't allow him to travel as fast as she could. \"And if I ever lose my temper or someone brings out Toula, I cant guarantee that I won't try to kill you. I can't control myself sometimes.\""
},
{
"author": "scitisverum",
"message": "Scitis watched as she began to obviously think hard about the situation he gave her the time she needed, he then began to wrap the bandages back around his arms. He put his Sword back in the Sheath, then leaned against the wall and kept his eyes on her as he began to let his guard down. Shifters were not only dangerous but they were also prone to act without thinking, this one appeared to have more intellegence then the average one. This made her all the more deadly in his mind.\n\n\"Well, within travelling I only wanted to say your travel method isn't as well thought out as you would like. Everyone at this point would know the normal travelling for a Shifter When it comes to transportation for the normal folks like me, they will never search them for Shifters. **If** We worked together we should bait others that are hired. We would need to make it really easy for them to find you.\" Scitis smiled as he continued to lean as he searched his bag as he pulled out a dried piece of bread as began to eat it, the loud crunching would likely annoy anyone nearby as he continued."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "She did not like the sound of using herself as bait. And sure he had a point about about her method of travelling but she did not care. It was very easy to lose someone when she was flying through the skies. Unlike those on the ground, she knew what laid ahead of them. This meant she could trick them into being led to a large river or cliff that would prevent them from following her any further. \n\n\"How about you find me in a week or two and I will let you know how I feel about this whole..\" She paused as she tried to think of a word to describe it. \"Deal, as you could say.\" She raised a brow before throwing the bag over her shoulder. \"I prefer to travel alone and I am not going to risk having your blood on my hands if I ever was to lose control. So I will need you to give me some time to think.\""
}
] | 213 | 4,470 |
219.666667 | 2019-02-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Eotum was halfway in the works of fashioning himself a walking stick. The piece of wood was in his hand as it rose up and fell down to the ground in a steady rhythm, the decoration on top looking like a Caladrius. The scholar was not a man who believed in things like luck, but simply thought that the symbolism was nice.\n\nHe was exhausted. Apart from recently surviving a rather interesting encounter with a band of murderous mercenaries, he hadn't really been able to rest properly without a proper bed. He was already used to sleeping in tents, but a bed wouldn't hurt every now and then, would it? Not to mention, it was in the middle of the day and the sun was burning. He also had run out of water in his bottle. \n\nThat was why when he saw that faint stack of wispy smoke in the distance, his heart sighed with relief. A shelter! Possibly a tavern, where he can buy a meal with a crisp drink, and stay in their lodging. And whether they regarded him as mad or not, they would soon come to know that he was rather harmless.\n\n\"The Verdant Lark\" Was what the sign said. The word 'verdant' gave the impression that the tavern owner or owners were bookish from the word choice. But the word 'lark' did seem to fit the theme of nature. And he did hear some birds singing as he came along here.\n\nAs such, he went towards the cozy-looking tavern and entered."
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Taverns were often the last places Danico would find himself- even the most respectable taverns tend to draw the attention of slime balls and drunken idiots alike. But, it had been two days since he had eaten, the hunger pains were beginning to grow a little too strong. The alchemist had bought only a small plate of food- a simple plate of greens and other veggies- some roasted, others boiled. Eating more than was necessary while on the road was never something he would do, luxuries are saved for the home, after all. \n\nDanico had not long finished his food, his cup of water half empty with his mask sitting loose around his neck when the doors to the tavern creaked open. Slowly turning his head to the entrance out of curiosity, a man whose aware of his surroundings is a man who lives, after all, he notices the older gentleman walking in with the walking stick. Someone whose name was familiar around the academy, who he'd never met before. \n\nThe alchemist watched the man enter from the other side of the room, curious of this peculiar happenstance, he waited to see what the other man would do."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "He expected soft gasps along with the people leaning over and murmuring amongst themselves. However, all they did was look then turned back to whatever they were doing, whether it be playing their game of chess or sipping tea by their lonesome.\n\nWell.\n\nHe then walked over to the counter and asked for a full night's stay. A transaction was made, and the scholar got his key to a room upstairs. He vanished upstairs to place his belongings in his room before coming downstairs to have a warm meal.\n\nHe looked around the dining hall, wondering where he should sit."
}
] | 236 | 659 |
280 | 2019-02-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "\"Scholar from the academies, right?\" \nDanico mentioned to the elder man who'd just entered the room, the entrance to the upper rooms not far from the table he was sat at. At first he spoke while not taking his eyes from his plate, wiping the corners of his mouth with gloved finger and thumb. Raising his eyes once again to who he assumed to be the scholar, Danico pushed the intentionally strange red mask around to the back of his neck. \n\n\"Eotus, correct?\" He guessed incorrectly, taking a swig of water without breaking eye contact with the other. A surprise if any to find a man of curiosity like him in a place like this. The people at the academy sure spoke of him, some in praise and others in question and judgement over his seemingly crazy story about a magical bird. \n\nThough he know next to nothing of the old man's story, Danico would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't curious to know more."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"Eotum.\" The scholar corrected in a goodnaturedly tone as he approached the table. \"Though Eotus is a lovely-sounding name that sounds like 'lotus', I've yet to meet someone with that name.\"\n\n\"And yes, I am a scholar from the academies. Zarahda, Astoria.\" He sighed out the formalities as he took a seat, the luxury of relaxing his legs on a familiar thing otherwise known as a chair already soothing his muscles. \"Though I've never met you before, good sir, much less someone who is willing to speak to a 'kook' like myself - oh thank you.\"\n\nHe leaned back to let a waitress put down a tray of warm food as well as some ale. He pursed his lips at the provided drink as he preferred tea, but he supposed that he'd take what he could get.\n\n\"Anyways. Right, I don't think I've ever met you, Sir...?\" He hung out an empty slot name in his sentence for the alchemist to fill like a blank on a piece of paper, whilst picking up his knife and fork."
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Danico let out little more than a soft chuckle at Eotum's mention of eotus sounding like lotus, given that it's based on an incorrect mention of his name, making it's mention feel.. Redundant. But still, he'd entertain the man in his ramblings a little while longer at least. If he's to learn of this man's curious tale of a big strange black bird, he'd have no choice in the matter.\n\nDanico nods along with Eotum's words as a show of attention, leaning back in his chair with arms folded as the waitress takes Danico's empty plate. \n\n\"Danico\" He replies with a cocked eyebrow. \"I'm aware, I've a lab up there myself. Alchemist first and foremost, I conduct a large portion of research on strange and rare creatures.\" The alchemist blinks for the first time during their encounter, just one of the strange lasting effects from a lifetime of meddling with potions. An effect that has made his eyes slightly more pale than is usual- not a sickly colour, but it is noticeable to any who would view them.\n\n\"Irony seems to have found us here, however. I had recently been thinking about you, no less.\" He continues as he readjusts himself in the chair. \"I had heard in passing that you may know the whereabouts of a rare animal, no?\" As usual, Danico is to the point and all business. All work and no play, if you will."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Eotum put the forkful of shepherds pie into his mouth and began to chew, leaning back on the chair as he gazed upon Danico as a whole. \n\nAs he masticated the food, he began to assess the man sitting in front of him as innumerable questions bubbled up in his mind. \n\nWhy was he asking about the Maladrius? Was he seeking some kind of debate on its existence? If so, was he trying to ascertain it from him? Or was he trying to gain a frivolous argument for his pleasure? He seemed like that type. Or was he seeking it out because he believed in its existence? Was he trying to gain a benefit economically? Socially? In terms of reputation? Was he seeking fame? \n\nDid he know that he would be here and waited for him for to arrive?\n\nNo. That is now edging on paranoia. Come back, Eotum, he silently chided himself.\n\nBut the biggest question of all that stood out to him was why. Why did he want him to sit with him?\n\nPerhaps he simply found him an interesting entity. Among all the other scholars in the world, only a few stood out for their contributions to society, medicine and science. Some also prevented wars from happening.\n\nBut Eotum? A tale. A folk story. A mad man. \n\nWhy wouldn't he be interesting? \n\nSome took interest in him in more ways than one. Most avoided him. Some shunned. A few took interest, half of them seeking a way to humiliate him in an argument and half wanting to know about his side of the story.\n\nBut asking about the Maladrius? Never.\n\nEotum swallowed and smiled before beginning to cut another piece of the pie. \"And... What would you like to know about my fantastical bird?\""
}
] | 270 | 1,120 |
285.375 | 2019-02-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"And how will this exchange of information benefit us, Danico?\" Eotum half asked half sighed, covering his mouth mid-chew to inquire. \"What will you get out of it? Do you seek out this beast? What do you seek from it? Fame? Glory? Wealth? Status?\" \n\n\"Do you even truly believe in its existence? And as for me, what will I take away from this table?\" The scholar made circling motions with the knife as he rambled out his questions like if he were holding a wand and casting a spell.\n\n\"After all, accurate as my story may be, what is the use if you don't believe it?\""
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The mercenary group led by Atovar had a tough journey through the mountain ranges that surround the kingdom of Ibethiel. In order to transport Marsila without causing waves, Atovar ordered that she was knocked out and thrown into a burlap sack. After crossing the mountain pass, the group scattered and eventually met up in Hexkrate like rain drops, pouring into the city one small band of travelers at a time.\n\nShort skip to an abandoned warehouse in the industrial quarter, the shapeshifter was chained to the wall with iron and gagged with rope. The room she was put in was dimly lit by a single candle that was left flickering a small sprite of fire.\n\nA loud creak signaled the opening of the rotting wooden door that led to the room. Footsteps followed to a stop in front of the woman. A stool was placed in front of her and two daggers of disting resources were laid on the wooden surface of the stool. One was made of iron and the other was made of silver. A bucket full of cold water was carried by two hands and its content dropped atop the head of the shifter.\n\n\"Waky Waky, little bitch.\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "The water bit harshly against her skin as she was drenched from head to toe, forcing her to awaken from her temporary slumber with a stunned gasp. Once her eyes snapped open, she was startled by the freezing cold as her body had been bare from any clothing. Her head pounded horribly, causing her sight to become dazed from the force they used to knock her out, so she was slow to notice the captain until her sight had cleared. \n\nInstant panic set in as she realised the predicament she was placed under, though confused to how she came to this position. Her arms ached horribly as the shackles dug into her wrists, the weight of her body causing her pain as she hung from the chains attached to the wall. \n\nOnce her vision cleared, Marsila felt anger surge through her veins when she realised who the man before her was attempted to lash out. Unfortunately she wasn't able to go any further than the chains allowed no matter how hard she struggled against her bonds. So instead, Marsila began to snarl in an animalistic manner towards the captain, as it was the only thing she was able to accomplish in her current state. \n\n\"Where am I?\" She snapped towards Atovar, her eyes gleaming with hatred while they began to shine a vibrant purple. She knew Rekkan was nowhere near when she couldn't find his scent no matter how hard she concentrated. It only made her the more furious as she had finally gotten what she wanted, only for her to be ripped away and hidden. It also didn't help that she had no weight against her chest where the amulet should have been, causing her emotions to become heightened and uncontrolled. \n\nShe tore her glare from the Captain and did her best to gather her surroundings. It didn't take her any longer than a few seconds when her eyes landed on the two blades with two different metals. One was darker in colour to as the other had a light shine to it, something Marsila could only assume was silver. \n\nWhere was Rekkan when she needed him."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "\"This isn't a questioning.\"\n\nAtovar had a haughty smirk plastered on his face and an obnoxious demeanor he wanted to rub on Marsila as much as he could. She was a dirty shapeshifter that hindered him once and that was enough for him to be really mad at her. He was furious, though his fury was in check for the time being.\n\n\"This is pure and simple torture, you filthy whore!\"\n\nHe took the iron dagger in his left hand and twirled it as the smirk stretched into a toothy and sadistic grin. It precluded the stab to her side and the twist of the blade, before it was plucked out.\n\n\"We needed to do a little digging here and there, but turns out you're a dirty little slut, huh? A shapeshifter whore. What are the odds of that? I'll be sure to use you thoroughly until your boyfriend gets here!\"\n\nWhen he said \"Use\", Atovar meant that Marsila's body was about to experience more pain than it ever did. That was his plan. He wielded the silver dagger in his right arm and, instead of stabbing, he sliced her left cheek twice. Aroused by the spilling of blood, he couldn't help himself but keep going, slashing at the girl's torso with silver as he stabbed her gut with iron."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "The smirk he wore taunted her along with his words. Even though Marsila knew she was anything but, she couldn't help but be angered by the names he called her. \n\n\"You son..\" Her words were cut short before she had the chance to finish what she was about to say when he plunged the darker blade into her side. A scream tore from her throat as she felt the knife twist, opening the wound further until he pulled it from her flesh. Within moments, her body had begun to heal itself with the wound closing soon after the blood ceased from escaping. \n\nHer scream also faltered when the pain subsided, merely seconds after he had taken the blade away. Marsila couldn't bother to raise her head as she was recovering, so instead allowed it to drop in front. The way he spoke brought chills to her body, and when he mentioned what he planned to do, the shifter felt her body tense. \n\nA burning sensation spread from her cheek and throughout her face as the silver discolored the skin. It didn't stop with her face as it began to feek like her body had been set ablaze when he continued to cut into her, forcing her voice to break and her throat to become raw from the screaming. She was never the type to handle pain well.\n\nShe could feel her energy draining as blood spilt from the open flesh, causing her to become limp as tears began to fall from her cheeks."
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "\"It appears you assume too much of me, good scholar.\" The alchemist replies, doing circles on the rim of his cup of water with his index finger. \"My interest in your beast is one of pure curiosity. I'm a man of study, after all. I've no need for petty fame or passing fortune and if I didn't believe it I certainly wouldn't be here answering your questions.\"\n\nDanico sighs and closes his book, sitting the quill down gently beside it.\n\n\"Do you truly believe it yourself? It seems you have little faith in the story and I've no time to be running a wild goose chase. If it is truly real, then I *Want* To help you find it. My reason may be purely for personal gain, but my reason excludes embarrassing you or trying to debate its ridiculousness.\" \n\nHe returns his hand to the table, starting to tap at it in a waved motion with each finger on his left hand. \"Are you satisfied, Eotum?\""
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "If there was anything that Atovar enjoyed most, it was the suffering made clear in his victim's face, in the way its body contorsed and then fell limp to the pain first, then to the expectation that followed. Marsila lied defeated for his heart's content. The blade demonstrated the viciousness of his character, silver gleaming in the cuts it thrashed Marsila with.\n\n\"Squeal, then! Cry for your boyfriend to come and save you!\" He slashed at her exposed ribs, goose growned with the snippeting cold of the chambers. It was high Winter and the warehouse was ruined with many broken doors and windows. The evening draft rolled along the empty halls and struck at the closed wooden doors in a quick and low drum.\n\n\"So, about that necklace of yours-\"\n\nMarsila's necklace had more attention than anyone could really think about. For a short while, it fell on the hands of someone with better eyes than anyone. That man showed it to another, a better qualified person in the field. The Alchemist guaranteed the effects and the flames began to crack the wood and cover the ceiling. \"What if I give it back to you if you suck my fucking hard dick?!\"\n\nAtovar's long face had a maddened grin, open with the edges of his lips carving cheeks to rise and teeth to lay bare. His eyes were open wide and glazing. He stabbed her with the iron dagger for fun, going for her side many times until he went up and stabbed her shoulder once. It was a quick stick and pull, followed by many others that covered her ribs and went for her thighs, then her arms, eventually going to peel the fingernail off her smallest finger."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "As he slashed into her ribs, Marsila felt her head become light from the blood loss, though was forced to stay awake by the freezing air. Since he had been slicing her with silver, the wounds were unable to heal as quickly as they would if he had only stuck to the iron blade. \n\nUnfortunately when he did chose to focus mainly on using the iron dagger, the silver had affected her enough to prevent her healing abilities to work to their full extent. She had also been slightly delirious from the silver so hadn't noticed when he questioned her about her necklace. \n\nThe shifter no longer had a voice and was rendered silent while she suffered through his abuse. She prayed to the gods that the agony would end, hoping she would pass out from the pain so she didn't have to suffer any further. There wasn't a patch of skin on her body that hadn't been covered by blood. \n\nWhen he began peel her fingernail, Marsila's eyes widened as her back arched in pain. She had never experienced having a fingernail torn, let alone having the nail removed. She wish Rekkan had been here to save her from this.\n\nAs the pain became too much and the shifter was unable to scream due to her throat becoming raw and swollen, Marsila felt her mind begin to wonder. It was like her mind was attempting to thread itself along with Atovar's, eventually creating a mind link between the two which Marsila had never done before. The moment they were linked together mentally, Atovar would hear Marsila's screaming in his head.\n\nNot long after he heard her scream, Marsila's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she was finally able to grow unconscious, freeing her temporarily from Atovar's fun."
}
] | 284.5 | 2,283 |
312.782609 | 2019-02-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Atovar was incredibly entertained. He enjoyed the feast of desperate screams and painful groans throughout his torture, coming to the apex of pleasure when he removed the nail in a point that Marsila's throat was already so hoarse it couldn't create a sound. The sadistic mercenary was about to peel another fingernail when he felt something tug at his mind and the ensuing scream inside of his head. He jumped back and took his hands to the sides of his head. His palms covered his ears in an attempt to protect the drums, but it was useless to do so. Instead, he stumbled back and fell with the daggers falling to his sides.\n\nMoments later, there was silence. The shapeshifter was unconscious and Atovar was clearly scared. He looked at the girl like she was some sort of monster that could get in his head. It didn't make sense to continue the torture while she was in that state though. Atovar rose to his feet and dusted off his shoulders. He glared at Marsila with contempt and hatred, eager to continue once the scare faded from his mind. He turned around and left the room, leaving Marsila alone.\n\nHe walked to the other side of the warehouse still with a semi pale complexion brought to a rise by the screams. They were all so full of rage that it muffled the despair underneath. For a moment, Atovar thought she was going to break free or something. The man cleared his throat and went to the main area of the warehouse, where the mercenaries he hired were converging after joining the city."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "The sound of her blood hitting the floor echoed throughout the cellar she had been held captive in. Marsila had been forced into a deep state of unconsciousness while her body worked to heal itself of the injuries Atovar had inflicted. The wounds created by the iron dagger were slow to heal, yet after the few hours it had taken for them to close, the only mark left in its place was the dried blood coating her skin. Luckily for Marsila, her finger made a recovery as a nail began to regenerate.\n\nUnfortunately for Marsila, the lines Atovar carved into her flesh took a different approach to healing. Due to the damaged tissue, the lacerations left permanent scarring along her torso and cheek. \n\nOne of the gashes on her cheek began below the inner corner of her right eye until it reached just below her cheek bone. The second gash ran from beside her nostril a few inches towards her jaw, connecting with the other wound as it did so. \n\nHer torso had multiple slash marks running diagonally across her body, something that would follow with her shifts. It was similar to leaving a distinctable mark on her that would make it easier for others to connect her with the panther she could shift into. \n\nIt was several hours since Atovar had left her unconscious that Marsila's body had finished healing itself as much as it was able to, though her fingernail completed its regeneration merely a few minutes before she found herself waking up."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "The scholar then leaned back again and sighed. He gazed levelly at the alchemist, debating if he should divulge his story to him or waste his breath. Thing was, the outcome would be only made clear until after he told him.\n\nWhatever. He was used to that treatment anyway.\n\nPausing only every now and then to eat some food or sip some ale, Eotum recounted his story. The names of his fallen friends. The journey to the Taemarian forests. The deaths, in order. His escape with the other girl. His futile attempts to convince the world of the Maladrius' existence.\n\n\"And since then, I've dedicated my life to finding a way to bring this beast to its knees. Dead or alive, it doesn't matter. I just want to prove to the world that my friends died by some... Abhorrent perversion of nature... And not by some passing, ordinary animal.\"\n\nThroat a little dry after all that talking, he picked up his mug and drank the rest of its contents.\n\n\"So.\" Eotum said, waiting for Danico's response."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Three cloaked figures walked to the rear of the ruined warehouse, where one of Atovar's men was on guard duty. The one in the middle of the trio took a sealed scroll from under its cloak and showed the seal to the guard, who nodded and stepped aside for the group to enter the derelict building. There was a heated argument closer to Marsila's door, then a silence disrupted by a sequence of steps heavy and light.\n\nThe door to the shapeshifter's cell was opened and the same three cloaked figures entered before Atovar. The mercenary captain had a sneer on his face as he folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned back on the corner of the wall. The smallest and hunched figure approached the barely woken Marsila and rummaged under its cloak with a wrinkled and shaking right hand to draw a scissor from it.\n\n\"Don't worry, Atovar. The rights to mark this specimen are yours. But I need some samples to run my... Experiments.\"\n\nThe slithering and near rattling voice was withered. Marsila did not know it, but it was the voice of the Alchemist. He pierced the side of her torso with one of the scissors' edge and cut through her flesh to make blood spill and take a strip of her tissue. A slightly taller figure removed a vial from its garbs and crouched next to the wound, reaching out to draw the blood into it. Then the action was repeated for two other vials. A small box followed to store the stripped skin inside.\n\n\"Thank you kindly, miss shapeshifter.\" The old man said in spite, smirking menacingly at the girl before turning around and leaving the room with his henchmen and Atovar. The door was closed behind her and she was left to hear the sound of the pouring rain outside. The room darkened with the fading of the flame until it was snuffed. There was nothing but darkness to nurture the young woman."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Marsila was in a state of confusion when she woke up, noticing the way her body ached after the torment she was placed under. Even though she had healed to the best extent of her abilities, the bloodloss still affecting her to some extent as she barely had enough energy to properly recover. \n\nThe moment the door opened to where she was held captive, the shifter's brows furrowed in confusion until Atovar followed in after the three. Once she noticed the captain, Marsila felt her heart begin to pace out of fear and attempted to escape her shackles by throwing her body around. \n\nHer attempt didn't last long until she grew tired from exhaustion and was forced to hang from her arms as her body became limp to regather her energy. As one of the Cloaked figures spoke, she immediately came to the realisation that the three were not here to help her situation. \n\nIt was obvious her voice had recovered when Marilsa cried out as she was cut into with a pair of scissors, finding it was worse than being slashed with the iron blade due to the scissors making a slow and painful incision until a strip of her skin removed. Once he had finished collecting the examples he needed, Marsila's cry became a threatening growl when he thanked her, like she had a choice in whether or not he was able to strip some of her flesh. \n\nHer growl soon ceased once the door closed behind the men, along with Atovar before it was replaced with a sob as tears began to fall down her cheeks. She felt powerless and exposed by Atovar, praying that someone would find her. She was terrified at the thought of possibly dying by Atovar's hands and found herself wishing she had her parents near her or Rekkan."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The following hours were filled with a silence of dread that was visited by the howls of the cold wind as rain poured outside. Some parts of the warehouse were wet from the gaping holes on its roof. It didn't take long for shouts to echo through the halls, with a distinct howl shattering above the noise of blades colliding and bones being smashed.\n\n\"ATOVAR!!! WHERE ARE YOU?!\"\n\nMarsila wouldn't recognize the voice, but from the sounds erupting from the cries, it was no friend of the mercenary captain. The last of the men fell to the ground and shortly after a puddle of blood seeped from under the wooden door. A loud smash made the door open wide and reveal a man covered in bandages around his torso. He had a sickle chained to a ball of iron, the handle of the curved blade gripped by his left hand and the chain closest to the ball wielded by his right. He looked at the chained woman with a surprised look and stepped closer.\n\n\"Huh? So you must be what Atovar was really after, dig? You're a mess.\" An idea crossed his mind and a smirk was etched on his face. He placed the chain over the nape of his neck and shoulders and slotted the sickle in a leather strap placed on the left side of his waist. Then, he fiddled with the locks of the iron shackles and snapped them open. Marsila's body would fall forward if she couldn't stand on her two feet and lean onto his frame. \"I bet Atovar will be really mad if you're not here when he comes back! Hahahaha!!\"\n\nHe draped her arm over his shoulders and helped the shapeshifter walk out of the warehouse and into the pouring rain outside."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Marsila was pulled from her thoughts when she heard the shouting of a male, seeking out the one she hoped to avoid. With great difficulty, the shifter did her best to heighten her hearing but was left with muffled screams and the sound of objects clashing together. When the door to the cellar slammed open, her eyes met with a man she had never met before. \n\nShe was unable to react as he came closer towards her, having given up the hope of being saved. As she wasn't able to identify the man, Marsila assumed this was simply a trick made by the Mercenary captain. \n\nThe idea that he was working against her faded when he unshackled her from the wall, causing her to fall limply against him. Her legs felt numb and shook as her feet landed against the chilly ground and struggled to walk with her lack of strength. She felt like a ragged doll as he had to help her escape the Warehouse, remaining silent as he did so. \n\nHer being nude was the last thing Marsila cared about until the icy drops of water hit her skin once they found themselves outside, creating small bumps to form across her body known as goosebumps. It made her numb as her head grew light, not being able to handle the effects the cold had on her body until she found herself growing unconscious once again. \n\nIt was as if her body was trying to save her from further distress by knocking itself out to prevent her from suffering more than she already had. Even though she was physically healed besides the scars that now marked her body, the shifter was mentally drained and struggled to cope against the natural elements."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The man noticed Marsila was losing consciousness fast, so he took to hauling her on his back and carrying her like that as they disappeared into the night. It would take a while to maneuver through the alleys of Hexkrate's slums, but they eventually arrived at a small inn. The man opened the door with a kick and stepped inside, greeted by the innkeeper with a raised brow.\n\n\"Been a while, Rogh. Who's the cutie?\"\n\n\"My new best friend! My room's still around, ain't it?\" He asked with a smug smirk.\n\n\"Of course!\"\n\nRogh went down the stairs to the cellar where his room was located. It was a meager division with a few stranded candles and a bed. He laid the girl on the bed and walked to the trapdoor just a couple of meters away, opening it to stick his head down and check of everything was in order. He closed it and went up the stairs to collect some things from the innkeeper. Rogh returned with clothes and a pot full of hot water. He used a rag, soaking it in the water and then folding to lay it on Marsila's forehead. With another rag, he cleaned her body, dirty of blood and mud.\n\nBack at the warehouse, Atovar returned to the macabre scene of his guards killed by deep gashes and holes that smashed their skulls and demolished ribs. He lashed out with a tloud scream of frustration and turned around to the men following him.\n\n\"That fucker lives! Find him and kill him! Bring that bitch shapeshifter back to me dammit!\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "When Marsila came to with a waking groan, she pried her eyes open and noticed she was no longer shackled against a wall in the freezing cellar but now lay on top of a bed. Her body continued to ache, though it wasn't as painful like it had been earlier since her arms weren't being forced to carry her whole weight. Instead, it was a result of the silver inflicted wounds irritating. \n\nHer body lacked the nutrients needed after the session Atovar had placed her under, the blood loss combined with the forced regeneration and healing had drained her completely. \n\nThe shifter was still out of it as it took her awhile to notice the man beside her but when she did, she immediately began to panic. Marsila failed to notice the cloth he held in his hand which was used to clean her body as she expected Atovar to show up any minute. She wasn't able to remember that he had saved her from the Cellar, she had been in a state of delirium when he had done so and it had affected the memory of her escape. \n\n\"Please, I can't handle anymore.\" \n\nShe had begged with a panicked tone, looking towards him with fearful yet pleading eyes as she thought he was going to continue where Atovar left off. Her limbs felt like they were held down by weights forcing her to remain on the bed when she tried to escape the stranger, finding it difficult to believe she was free from further torture. This contributed towards her fear that he was nothing but part of Captain's plan to mess with her."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The chain and sickle warrior cocked his head to the side as he watched the girl in her deep state of delirium. From the look of her body, she had been Atovar's little toy for a while. Rogh knew how much that man liked to play with others, it was no surprise to anyone that knew about the man. He had been doubtful of the pay he had received, it being a larger than usual sum. It made him aware that Atovar planned to kill him when he never showed up to fight Rekkan, instead using Rogh and Sorqaqtani as pawns to distract the swordsman while he went to capture Marsila.\n\n\"I'm not a torturer! Just a guy that likes to fight strong people!\" He claimed. \"Snap out of that nightmare you're dreaming!\"\n\nRogh had to count on Marsila to wake up proper and see that she was being helped rather than the other way around. It wouldn't take long for his hideout to be found, for Rogh knew Atovar would use his contacts in the capital to track him down and exact revenge. The warrior had plans of his own formulating in his mind though. He knew the capital very well and thought of going down to the sewers to elude the mercenary captain until the moment he could get him off-guard and kill him.\n\nBut as Rogh waited for Marsila to get her act together and assembled his own supplies and equipment, another man was using his alchemical expertise to conduct experiments on a bundle of rat tissue all sewn together to create a new breed of revived flesh. A large rat the size of a wolf, capable of standing at the same height of the average human, squeaked and looked at the Alchemist with its black, lifeless orbs. The success was further scrutinized by slashing the rat's flesh, which was previously injected with a sample of Marsila's blood. He watched on as the wound was closed by the regenerative properties of the blood. The old man grinned, looking back at the giant humanoid which he sought to inject with the blood too.\n\nHours later, the first wave of rats was unleashed on the sewers, to haunt the tunnels and attack the patrols with such viciousness to then devour the bodies with multi layered sharp teeth."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Marsila pinched her eyes shut as she breathed deeply, trying to gather her common sense by calming herself. Even though she found it difficult, the girl eventually began taking proper note of her surroundings as her panic began to settle. It took a while without the help of her amulet along with the effect it had when it wasn't being worn.\n\nA deep rumbling noise could be heard from her stomach, begging to be nourished. It was then when it came to her that, not only had her body been through a lot, but she hadn't eaten in over a day. This was rare for her, especially when she had shifted during her time without being fed. \n\nHer eyes slowly peeled open before turning her head towards the right so she was able to study the man as he gathered multiple belongings. The way he acted brought Marsila to believe his claims, noticing the way he rushed around like he had limited time, which he did. \n\nMarsila continued to remain immobilised as she watched Rogh, trying to understand why she hadn't been left at the Cellar when he found her. She didn't bother to ask, fearing the answer was something she would regret learning. With the luck she had, he may have simply saved her so he could use her as bait to lure Atovar to him. \n\n\"I need food.\" She found herself saying before she was able to ask his reason for rescuing her. \"I can't move. I'm too weak.\"\n\nIt was true however, Atovar had done a number on her and it resulted in her becoming incapacitated."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "It was also true that Rogh only wanted to use Marsila as bait. He prepared everything and, when the girl pleaded for food, he snorted but went along with her request, if only to gain an ally in his departure through the sewers.\n\nThe slim man went up the stairs to get some sort of meal, only returning when he had a bowl full of soup. He handed it to Marsila, waiting for her to raise her upper body and grasp the bowl before letting go himself.\n\n\"Careful, it's hot! Eat up and regain your strengths quickly. We leave when you're finished, so better be prepared!\"\n\nHe didn't think much into his plan. Whatever it was that Rogh was concocting, Marsila would only learn about it once they descended into the sewers."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "She could care less about the heat as she finished the soup, the burning sensation it brought to her throat and chest was nothing compared to what she had to endure in the cellar. \n\nPlacing the bowl down, Marsila inhaled deeply before laying herself back on the bed. She knew Rogh was in a rush but she was still incapable of moving on her own. The soup only satisfied her slightly as she had a large appetite due to the energy she used on a daily basis. She wasn't going to ask for more though, considering how he seemed reluctant when she had asked for food in the first place. \n\n\"You're going to have to carry me for a little bit. I don't have the energy to move on my own.\" She didn't even bother facing him as she spoke, still slightly out of it as she continued to have flashbacks. \n\nReaching up towards her face, Marsila brushed her fingers over her right cheek, feeling the two lines that scarred her cheek. Her lips pursed together as she remembered how it felt, similar to someone shoving a hot iron on her face and was now left with a permanent reminder of the suffering she went under when she was left alone with the Mercenary captain. \n\nShe imagined it looked hideous, along with the scars that marked her stomach. She couldn't thank Rogh enough for saving her, even if he had the wrong intentions for doing so. She knew Atovar would have continued torturing her, terrified that what she had been through was only the beginning."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rogh was definitely annoyed by the fact that he would have to carry Marsila through the sewers. However, they were about to be out of time. The sounds coming from the surface didn't bode well for the two as rogues were trashing the place and threatening the innkeeper at swordpoint. It was too soon to turn the tables, so Rogh rushed to the shapeshifter and turned his back to her while using his hands to pick her up.\n\n\"Hold on to those clothes! You'll need then when we resurface!\" He carried her on his back and gave the woman little time to gather the clothes before moving to the trapdoor. Rogh opened it and jumped down, landing on his two feet in a stinky place under the city of Hexkrate. Its sewers stretched along its edges and beyond. Rogh wanted to use them to appear in another part of town where Atovar couldn't find him so easily. He grabbed a torch and lit it on fire, using the light source to reveal the way forward.\n\nSeveral meters later, the screeching and squeaking of rats echoed from all around them. At first, Rogh didn't pay them any mind, but as he ran through the wet platforms, he noticed how the sounds were creeping closer to him and the shapeshifter.\n\n\"This isn't normal.\" He said, right before a pair of large red eyes vaulted from the darkness and towards the two. There was only a moment of opportunity to dodge and he did so, ducking low to have the rat leap over him. It was a giant rat!\n\n\"Holy fuck cuck! What the fuck is that?!\" Rogh almost pissed himself, but his legs chose not to give in and instead they ran. \n\n\"You sayin' bolt?! We bolt!!\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "When they were quite a distance away into the sewer, Marsila felt something wasn't right. A scent she had never come across before yet was similar to a rodent crossed her senses but found it was too late. She knew they were near and her assumption was proved correct when Rogh was forced to dodge a large rat. \n\nMarsila simply screamed in terror as she looked over her shoulder and witnessed many more follow after the first. She couldn't believe what she saw and doubted they would escape this alive, they were monstrous and mutated. \n\n\"Don't look behind you!\" She warned, knowing it would only slow him down and cause him to panic if he saw how many were now chasing after the two of them. The sound the group of rats made caused a headache to form as it was similar to high pitched screams, deafening if they got too close. \n\nLost in total panic, the two hadn't realised they were heading straight towards the trap door they had used to escape. The innkeeper had given the two of them up before he was murdered by the two rogues who now stood near the trap door. \n\n\"What the fuck is that noise?\" \n\nAntonius, one of the rogues who had shaved his head bald thinking it made him seem more intimidating, looked towards the trap door with furrowed brows. He had heard way too many stories about deaths following strange noises in unknown place, so he decided to stay far from the small entrance to the sewers. \n\nNathan on the other-hand was filled with too much greed to be frightened by the sounds coming from the sewers. \n\n\"We just need the shifter, don't be a bitch.\""
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rogh was too worried about the rats going after him that he didn't notice he was headed back towards the trapdoor until it was too late to be sorry. It didn't matter, nor did it matter if there were others waiting for him. He also had no intention of going back up to the inn's cellar. He just kept running and ran past it. If the two rogues decided to go down, then they'd be perfect lure for the rats while Rogh made his getaway with Marsila on his back. If they didn't, but didn't close the trapdoor either, maybe some of the rats would make a letter of introduction.\n\nThe chain and sickle warrior ran as far as his legs allowed, but the limbs started to burn after a while. He was lucky enough to get to the main waterways, where all the waste merged to flow out of the city. However, with that came the knowledge that the rats were causing panic to the patrols of Hexkrate's guards. The sewers were a war zone of sorts that the rats were slowly conquering.\n\n\"What the fuck is going on?!\"\n\nHe turned tail and ran to where it seemed there were less rats and less fighting. That always looked good. Until it didn't.. Torches blazed before him and revealed a very familiar face: Atovar's.\n\n\"Did you really think you could hide from me, Rogh?!\"\n\n\"Hey, hey!! It's the traitor in the flesh! So you wanna settle the deal here and now?!\"\n\n\"Traitor?! You're breaking the tenets of the three by taking my slave! You're the traitor, Rogh! You should've died by Rekkan's hands back at Feyshore, you damn ape!\"\n\nRogh was enraged, but his senses of self preservation spoke louder than his emotions. \"Hold your breath and close your eyes! Into the shit we go!\" Bare of any logic but the instinct to survive, the warrior jumped into the waterway and was carried, along with Marsila, down the main shaft. Atovar grit his teeth and gave chase, ordering his men to fire at the water.\" It doesn't matter if you hit the bitch! Kill that fucking monkey!\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Nathan was left dumbfounded when he witnessed the large man armed with a sickle while carrying the woman they were looking for on his back, run past the trap door like his life depended on it. \n\nKneeling down, the rogue lowered his head through the trap door as he wasn't the brightest and overcome with the greed for riches Atovar had promised. What he saw brought a scream of pure terror before one of the rats managed to chomp its teeth up to his neck, decapitating him before his body collapsed into the sewers. \n\nAntonious looked on with a horrified expression to what he witnessed before rushing to the trap door and sealing it before one of the monsters managed to escape. \n\nAll color drained from Marsila's face when she saw Atovar. She didn't need to be told twice as she closed her eyes and tightened her arms over his chest. She held her breath as he had instructed but was forced to release when she felt a couple arrows land in her back and cried out."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The current led them downstream all the way to where all the waste of Hexkrate was piled up in what one could say were literal mountains of shit. Rogh fell hard on his face and the first breath was the most difficult. The stench was awful and had permeated his skin and clothes. Marsila fell not far from him, but when he got up to move towards her, he heard the squeaks and screeches intensifying just around the other side of the shitty hill he stood on.\n\nThey were in the rat's nest, but not the one he was familiar with. With that in mind, the warrior gulped and tried to breathe from his mouth so the smell didn't force him to gag and cough. He snuck silently towards the shapeshifter and noticed the two bolts carved on her back. It wasn't the right time to treat her wounds, mainly because she would definitely scream her lungs out.\n\n\"Listen, we can't make a sound. Let's try to sneak around these bastards.\" He whispered."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "She was having the time of her life. Note the sarcasm. She clenched her jaws together before nodding her head, not worried about her wounds becoming infected. It was one of the many perks about the shifter. Unfortunately, there were also downfalls like her heightened sense of smell that made it impossible for her to breath. It was suffocating. \n\nShe wanted to say something to him but was rendered speechless as it required her to breath for her to do so. \n\nShe was still in no shape to walk as she laid against the large mounds of manure, hoping Rogh still planned on using her which he would need her alive to do so. She desperately wanted to be far from this shitty place, disgusted as her body had been covered in it."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rogh was tired, but he couldn't just wait for the rats to find him and eat him. He wanted to use Marsila, but her state was really making his mind turn away from her for the sake of survival. He struggled to come to a decision and grunted to himself when he grabbed her and hauled her once more onto his back.\n\nThe warrior crouched and crawled in that position as he circumvented the mountain of shit. He peeked from the corner and saw a group of rats surrounding a much larger rat. The sown tissues were more evident in its writhing shape, something out of a tall tale of horror parents tell their kids to keep them away from the darker corners of the city. But weren't they all tales? Not until then. What manner of creatures were these?! Could they really be rats?\n\n\"That... That's too big...\" Rogh gulped and tried to move away, only to hear the faint sound of footsteps coming from a corridor. He hid against a smaller mound of shit with Marsila on his back and caught a glimpse of the cloaked figures. Marsila would recognize them too, if only for their number of three and distinct hunchback of the elder. It was the Alchemist. They seemed comfortable to walk in front of the rats and the Alchemist was smiling, raising his hands and talking to the much larger rat."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "When Marsila saw the three men, she felt her grip tighten against them as she felt a surge of anxiety rush through her. She was completely terrified as she looked on with the warrior, her body trembling as she remembered they were just as sadistic as Atovar. \n\n\"They work with that man. Atovar.\" She recalled them saying his name before they buried the scissors into her and cut away a strip of her flesh. \n\nShe was in no shape to fight them and knew they were going to be caught. It was only a matter of time. She felt her stomach drop as she realised there was no way out of this for her and did not want another to be killed because of her. She had been slowing him down since she was free from the Warehouse. \n\n\"You're going to have to leave me here.\" She whispered as her grip loosened around Rogh. Marsila knew she had no chance of escape but knew this man had some hope. \"Just make sure you give Atovar a painful death if you manage to find him again.\""
},
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "\"*Hm*\" A surprised and curious sound escapes his lips as the scholar finishes his his story, no truly expecting him to divulge so easily, but also being taken by surprise by the amount if detail in his story. The alchemist was certainly more willing to help now than ever.\n\n\"I wish to document your case.\" Danico replies, looking more interested now in the way he sits as he leans forward onto his arms. \"Maybe more so for the case of this maladrius, but this creature would make a fine addition to my collection. I wish to study it, if you would be so kind as to allow me to capture it.\" \n\nThe alchemist opens his book back up and begins writing down various possible options used to capture large animals, as well as things needed to do so. \n\n\"I'll need you to explain everything you can about the beast. How it moves, it's feeding pattern, how it hunts, even what it's feet look like if you know.\" The alchemist begins writing in his book, creating sections and categories for the following information to be written in. Overly organised as usual."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rogh had half a mind to abandon the shapeshifter. His escape would be so much easier without her weight on his back. It wasn't necessarily because she was heavy, but because he was tired of running around with a lump of flesh on his back that couldn't do more but bitch about how she couldn't walk and should be dumped by him. That actually made him not want to give her up.\n\n\"Shut the fuck up...!\" He whispered sharply, heaving her up his back's length. The warrior crept towards the corridor when another shout made him pause. Out of the exit of the nest came Atovar and his men, chasing after the waterway's cycle. When he saw the hooded figures and the large rat surrounded by its kin, the mercenary captain grimaced.\n\n\"What the fuck is that?!\" He looked at the Alchemist and turned the grimace into a full blown grin. The time was ripe to get back at the old man for humiliating him before. \"Shoot those hooded freaks!\"\n\nOne of the figures turned around and shouted for the mercenaries to stop, but it was too late. The Alchemist was forced to break concentration as his henchmen protected him and dragged him off to a pile. That was enough to disrupt his link with the rats, especially the larger one that acted as leader. The rats gained a will of their own and turned on Atovar. The screeches from the larger one made the others run amok and start a frenzied charge at the mercenary captain, who turned tail as the rats were on hot pursuit.\n\nRogh used that chance to go down a hatch not far from the corridor, with the smell of shit covering his movement as the rats chased after the scent of human odor. He opened the hatch and down he went, Marsila on his back. They slid down a steep tunnel until arriving at a large, humid cavern with the ruins of an ancient city in the near distance. They were able to see thanks to the torches and braziers scattered through the ruins.\n\n\"That's the Rat's Nest. Crime world headquarters in Ibethiel.\" He told the shapeshifter. \"With any luck, Atovar is rat food by now. As for us, we should find a place to lay low.\""
}
] | 324 | 7,194 |
388 | 2019-02-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "When she was told to shut up, Marsila rolled her eyes towards his attitude. She hadn't asked him to save her and because he had already planned on hunting down Atovar after witnessing his earlier encounter with the Captain, the shifter didn't feel as bad for the situation they were in. However, she did listen and ceased her talking. \n\nShe watched in silence as the scene unfolded, unsurprised by Atovar's actions as he called for the hooded figures to be shot at. It didn't end well for the Mercenary captain once the Alchemist was hidden and had lost his connection with the much larger rat, allowing the two a chance of freedom and safety. \n\nKnowing it would only anger him, Marsila kept her mouth closed so she was mute as Rogh found a way for them to escape. She was impressed with how he was able to travel through the corridors, aware of which path they needed to take until they reached a hatch they had slid through. \n\nWitnessing the so called 'rats nest', the shifter's eyes widened. She didn't enjoy the thought of being so close to the headquarters of those hunting Rekkan and herself down, evident by the way she tightened her grip on the Warrior's back. \n\n\"Somewhere far from here.\" Was her simple reply, agreeing that they needed to find some place to rest."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The Rat's Nest was eerily calm, but Rogh didn't plan to go deeper into it. If Atovar's threat was real, the chain and sickle warrior was also being targeted by the families for his breaking of one of the fabricated tenets that were more a way of sheltering the favored and what they defined their property. Rogh was eccentric and wild mannered, distant from the rules that made up the criminal underworld of Hexkrate. He agreed that they shouldn't lay low in the ruins' center, but too far away would be a bad decision. He thought that staying close to the headquarters gave them an edge on the movement of the people after them.\n\nHe used his last efforts to navigate through the outskirts of the ruins and slip into one of the old and derelict houses. Porcelain and wooden debris were scattered around the floor, but there was an old creaky bed still standing in one of the rooms. Rogh took advantage of it and laid Marsila on her stomach, so the bolts were standing hard on her back. He wrapped his fingers around one at a time and pulled, trusting in the shapeshifter's regeneration and endurance to survive the pain and heal.\n\n\"What the fuck was that back there?\" He asked Marsila, trying to take the pain off her mind. \"Was that man really talking to the giant rat?\" He wanted to make sense of everything, as tagging along to hunt Rekkan made him walk a road of magic he never treaded on before.\n\nBut the rats were no longer under control. The giant leader of the mutated beings declared the hunting season open and its descendants swooped down on the sewers with a barbaric viciousness to them. Deprived of actual sentience, the creatures expanded to define their territory and prey on any who'd walk down to the sewers. It wasn't necessarily a war zone, but the guard of Hexkrate responded to the problem as a strange infestation.\n\nThe Alchemist was stranded in the middle of a mountain of shit. He made another attempt to connect with the rats that were his creation, but somehow they were blocking his transmission. He thought that the blood he infused the alpha with and then ran in its children's rotting bodies was the cause, and he wasn't wrong. He had given birth to monsters that were hard to kill through conventional means, if not outright impossible."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Her skin had managed to heal over the entry wound made by the arrowheads until it reached the wooden shafts. If he was to pull the arrows from her body, he would need to use a great deal of strength. \n\nMarsila couldn't help but groan loudly in pain as she clenched her teeth together with immense pressure. It was difficult to answer his question as she was doing her best not to scream, fearing it would lead either Atovar or the rats right to them. It felt agonisingly slow as he would have been forced to pull it multiple times before they were finally removed. The bleeding was quick to stop as her body began to heal once but unfortunately, it also made the shifter lose any energy she had remaining. \n\n\"I have no idea.\"\n\nThe shifter was finally able to whisper her answer after she managed to gather enough strength to speak. She was completely exhausted and it seemed her torture never ended. Even though Atovar was nowhere near, he still managed to find away to cause her agony. \n\nHer mind wandered to the rats, never having seen anything like those monsters. She could care less that she was covered in rat shit, knowing it disguised their scents as she couldn't find Rogh's. There was no doubt the man who was communicating with the largest of the rats was an alchemist.\n\nHer thoughts became distracted when her stomach began to cramp out of hunger. Marsila felt as though she hadn't eaten in weeks and the more she was forced to heal, the more pain she had to suffer through internally. She was literal hell. \n\n\"You know, death is starting to sound like a good idea about now.\" She muttered, losing any hope she had previously as her mind began to cave in."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rogh peeked through the cracks in the wall to the outside of the house and found nothing but more ruins and debris. The city they were in was ancient, a shadow of a civilization long lost to the sands of time. It must have been bustling with people thousands of years ago, before the foundation of the first quarters of Hexkrate. They were in the outskirts, probably in some former slum turned into a hollow block like many others. The drifters of the capital found their way out of the sewers either to the surface or the ruined city, and occupied many empty buildings scattered around the poorest areas of the capital or the outer rim of Rogh and Marsila's location. They chose a vacant area, luckily being the only ones in the vicinity.\n\n\"You really like to talk shit, ey, shapeshifter?\" He said, not turning away from the cracks. \"Well, you can choose if you want to die or not. Take your own life! Like I care. I will go out and see if I can find any food either way. If you're dead by the time I'm back, well, more food for me.\"\n\nThe warrior walked out of the room Marsila stayed in and then out of the house. He followed the cracked cobble road into the city center, ever closer to the colosseum where the heads made their headquarters. He had no intention of actually going there, preferring to skirt the den of wolves to visit one of the black markets. He hoped he wasn't identified by someone affiliated with Atovar or the Diplomat especially."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "This man was a complete asshole. She narrowed her eyes towards him before turning her head the other direction which faced the wall. Even if she wanted to, it was close to impossible for her to take her own life. \n\nWhen she listened as Rogh left her alone to her thoughts, Marsila's mind began to drift to her parents. Her eyes began to water as she feared she may never see them again, or apologise for running away. They had given her a chance in life, caring for her after her biological parents had abandoned her as an infant. Even when she experienced her first shift and almost harmed her father by accident, they continued to love her like she was their own. \n\nUsing Rogh's absence to her advantage, Marsila rolled to her side and readjusted herself on the small bed. She brought her knees to her chest and curled into a ball, hugging herself before releasing all the built up sadness and anger."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rogh was cautious, but one can never be too cautious, nor is always one aware of his surroundings. One of the trappers that Atovar hired to capture Marsila spotted the chain and sickle warrior from the crowd and tailed him. He noted that the man was acquiring some much needed food and followed him all the way to what the inhabitants of the Nest called the badlands.\n\nRogh took a sharp turn to an alley, when the trapper peeked from the corner into the narrow street, he was introduced to the weight of the iron ball that was chained to the sickle through a quick throw that made his left eye go inward as the skull around it was shattered with the pressure of the throw. It was possible the shards of bone stuck into the brain, but the sticky eyeball latched onto the ball as it was reeled back until the speed made it detach and roll on the floor. The trapper's body fell to its knees and then forward, slumping against the wall before collapsing on its side on the ground.\n\n\"Bastard.\" Rogh had a bag full of food under his left arm and the ball being twirled on his right. He walked around and out of the alley and towards the house Marsila was left behind in. When he entered the first room, it was clear to him that the other trappers would come and look for their friend, then use the tracks left by the warrior to find him.\n\n\"Here!\" Rogh dropped the bag next to the bed and turned his back to the bed, heading out the door and staying in it for a moment. He looked back at the shapeshifter. \"Eat up and get away from here as soon as you can walk! If you follow the main road out, you'll find an old statue of a woman with a tunnel leading up to the sewers! Take a left and you'll eventually find a ladder leading to the surface! Don't get yourself killed, dig?!\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Marsila had no tears left to cry when Rogh returned, carrying a large sack filled with food. Drool began to flood her mouth as the scent wafted through the air, grabbing the shifter's attention almost immediately as she turned to face him. \n\nWhen the bag was beside the bed, the female lowered her arm and reached into the bag, wrapping her fingers around the first thing she touched. With newfound energy, Marsila pulled the bag in front of herself and began devouring every edible item presented to her while listening to Rogh give her directions. \n\nShe didn't blame him for leaving. He wasn't obligated to care for her and she knew she had been a thorn in his side since the moment he saved her. Though before he left, she gave him a short nod to show she'd been listening.\n\nShe ate in silence, never having the chance to taste what she ate as practically shoved the food down her throat. Every chew she took, the shifter could feel herself regaining the energy she had lost. It excited her, knowing she would be able to move on her own. However, she knew it was too risky to shift into her panther form. It would have taken too much energy and she would have lost the clothes Rogh found her. \n\nWhen she had finished eating, Marsila didn't waste time and immediately left to follow the main road as Rogh had instructed. She had been paranoid the entire walk to the statue the warrior had mentioned, her eyes darting through the crowds in fear that Atovar would make an appearance. She also made herself aware of anyone she felt may be following her, taking continuous detours to confirm her suspicions,"
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The man smirked at the shapeshifter and went the opposite way, towards the core of the ruined city. He found it best to meet with the ones that would surely follow his tracks, so that Marsila could have time to escape. Hopefully, she wouldn't come across any rats or the men that hunted her. Even though he was an asshole towards her, Rogh found himself caring for her future, because he disliked Atovar and what he had done to her face. He disliked torture, being more of a true fighter than a common thug.\n\nRogh stopped short of the entrance to the center of the ruins and met with the two trappers standing a few meters away from him. He could see by their faces that they were angry, quite the norm for who had just lost their companion. He grinned at them and gripped the sickle's handle with his left while his right hand held the chain and made the iron ball twirl on his right side.\n\n\"You sure you wanna pick a fight with me?\"\n\nThe two trappers attacked together. They zigged and zagged in their approach, but Rogh cut their advance with a horizontal swing of his ball that made their bodies swerve back to evade the iron of doom. The ball came around to rotate around his body. They took the opportunity of the wind up to attack with their swords, but Rogh was expecting that. He used the curved blade of his sickle to parry a blow while pulling the chain to have the ball closer to his right hand as it was spun even faster. Fast enough that when he released it, it struck the sword of the other and hit his chest in the ricochet. It lost some momentum, but it was still enough to crush the thorax and knock the trapper back. The sickle that parried the other sword was whipped to slash at the face and remove a bit of the nose of the first trapper, making him groan as blood poured from his open nostril and cheek.\n\n\"Seriously! You're just boring!\" He taunted, shooting the ball low to wrap around the leg of the one he hit on the chest. He tugged on the chain and made him fall to the ground, then swung the chain high to lob the sickle and make it stab the crushed thorax. The other trapper tried to thrust at the side of his gut, but Rogh sidestepped to feel the edge of the blade slice a bit of his bandages and cut the skin in a shallow wound that drew a trickle of blood. He let go of his weapon to drive an elbow at the trapper's side and make him lose his balance. Then, he grounded the man and pounded him with several punches to the face. Finally, he grabbed the weapon of the trapper and stabbed him multiple times in the chest until he no longer drew breath.\n\n\"That's that, huh?!\"\n\nRogh collected his weapon from the other trapper's corpse and wiped the blood of the sickle on the dead man's clothes. He was about to continue on his merry way when men approached from in front and behind him.\n\n\"Ooh, hello there!\"\n\nRogh's grin faltered when Atovar appeared. He was seemingly unscathed, having survived the rat attack a couple of hours ago. \"Did you really think you could hide from me, Rogh?!\"\n\n\"Nay. Bootlickers are always gonna be privileged, dig?\" The chain and sickle warrior stated with a more serious expression.\n\n\"Where is she?\"\n\n\"Long gone, faggot! And you're about to be long gone too! I'm having my revenge now!\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "The shifter had found herself walking through the sewers, making sure to take a left which led her along another path. She found herself lucky that no one had followed her, knowing she would have heard them enter the sewers after her otherwise. It also meant Atovar had no clue to where she was. \n\nShe felt rays of hope at the thought of making her way back to Rekkan, even if she had a while to go. She could only hope the Captain had been eaten by the rats, thinking it meant Rekkan and herself would be free from being hunted down. Marsila was naive to the fact that Atovar was merely a pawn, oblivious to the Ticket Master's existence. \n\nAs she neared the ladder Rogh spoke of, Marsila's steps faltered when she could hear the screeching of rats ahead. She couldn't guess how many there were as they're twisted shrieks were louder than the average rats. It was bad fortune they were heading towards her ,giving her little time to reach the trap door. \n\nMarsila instantly began sprinting, thankful the warrior had given her enough food to replenish her. The female had barely reached the ladder when she noticed abnormally large rats race towards her and began climbing like her life depended on it, which it did. She could feel the adrenaline created from the fear of being eaten alive help her reach the trap door that lead to an alley, missing the zombified looking rats by inches.\n\nClosing the door after her, it slammed against the head of the first rat that climbed after her, causing it to hit the others on its way down. \n\nMarsila took advantage of the little time she had before they would reach the trap door and dragged a large metal beam over it. Hopefully that would hold them off long enough for her to run further into Hexraxes, unfamiliar with her surroundings so she was unaware of the direction she headed but made sure to avoid any main streets."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"I'm surprised that you didn't read the 20 treatises I wrote from the 20 expeditions I had went through. Then again, who has time to read 20 of those things.\" He muttered. \"Anyways, the one thing you have to understand is that this bird loves to suck the life force out of human beings.\"\n\n\"That's the thing, really. It only sucks the life out of humans and, presumably, gets stronger with each human life. But as for other animals like rabbits and wolves, they use their talons and sharp feathers to cut it down and directly eat it.\"\n\n\"As to why this happens, I don't know. But I can tell for a fact that this bird definitely hates humans.\""
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "While Marsila was making her escape, Rogh was locked in a situation he knew would be a gritty challenge to get out of. The mercenary captain didn't appreciate the name calling, feeling his blood hot with rage as he drew his rapier and signaled his men to stand down. He was confident in his skill and eager to get rid of a thorn on the side of his plans.\n\n\"You will beg for a swift death when I get my hands on you, Rogh!\"\n\nThe chain and sickle warrior didn't let Atovar close the gap, quickly swinging his ball in wide arcs that made a perimeter he could shorten were the fencer trying to get closer. Atovar's three steps forward found the ball swinging mighty close to his nose, with the intent of ripping it off were he not fast enough to draw his head back. However, right after he evaded, Atovar pressed on to find the sickle coming from above. He dodged with a quick step to the right.\n\nThe way to Rogh's exposed left flank seemed clear, but the chain and sickle warrior turned his wrist and pulled, making the sickle tilt and be leashed back with its sharp blade aiming for the lower body of the mercenary. The sizzling sound of blade cutting wind was a warning for Atovar, but that alone wasn't his problem. The dexterous fighter used his other hand to command the other half of the chain and make his ball flow horizontally to smash against the shoulder of the captain. Atovar rolled to the left, springing into action to thrust with an extended right arm and upper body. Rogh used the outer, blunt side of the curved sickle to knock the blade away. His ball came back from an overhead twirl from left to right behind his body and right to left in front of it. Atovar turned his face and felt the iron ball graze his ear as it shot a boom of sound into the eardrum and reddened the cartilage of the ear.\n\nThe sickle followed to take advantage of an unbalanced duelist, yet Atovar found the footing with his left foot to push himself back and away from the sickle that still scratched his forehead with its dreaded tip. Infuriated, he released a swing with his right arm that ripped through the bandages of the warrior and revealed a large gash from his chest to his gut. Atovar furrowed his brows and stepped back, catching his breath and waiting for the buzzing sound on his right ear to stop.\n\n\"Look at that! Is that what the swordsman did to you? I might just continue his work then!\"\n\nRogh grunted and ignored the blood that made his gash tingle. It was close to a burning sensation as the rapier needled the previous wound and made the chain and sickle warrior's body heat rise.\n\n\"I'll be honest with ya! You're not half the man that guy is, dig?!\""
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Her heart raced as she sprinted through the alleyways, finding it similar to a labyrinth path when she managed to become completely lost. Every turn the shifter took would eventually lead her to a public space crowded with people and possible trappers. She doubted she would blend in well with the crowd as the back of her shirt had been torn and covered in blood. Not to mention she still smelt of manure from the rat's nest. \n\nHer eyes caught sight of a banner in which she recognised Ibethiel's house sigil decorated on it. It relieved her somewhat as she knew it was only one kingdom over from North Feyshore. \n\nHer stomach began to tighten as hunger began to set in once again. Even though she had eaten recently, the running had done a number on her seeing that she didn't have much energy in the first place. \n\nAs she walked along a quiet path, Marsila carefully listened to each house she passed for any signs that someone may be inhabiting it. If she was unsure whether it had been abandoned or not, she would seek out any scents that would inform her if someone had been occupying the house. It took her awhile but eventually, the shifter had found a house that had been deserted. \n\nUpon entering, the door frame hun unevenly and almost broke off from the hinges. Marsila however, could care less as she made herself welcomed inside. \n\nThe first thing she did was hunt down any clothing that may fit her, scouring through the bedrooms and the trunks until she was satisfied with her findings. She had found a well worn shirt that had probably been sitting in the trunk collecting dust and began undressing her top. \n\nHer plan was to hide in this building until she could figure out a plan for her way back to Rekkan."
}
] | 361.5 | 4,656 |
371.666667 | 2019-02-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "poppet_bard",
"message": "Danico begins writing as the other talks, but stops just as quick as he starts, not even half way through the others explanation. \n\n\"Tell me, Eotum. What do you plan on doing once you find it? Do you have a plan or have you decided to just face it headstrong and deal with the outcome when it comes? If it does exist, then we will need to know it's feeding patterns, the design of its tracks, if it has any notable feeding grounds or exploitable behaviors. Having a particular hate towards humans can be used, but not if it means another man is killed.\"\n\nDanico begins tapping against the table with his fingers once more, staring at the scholar across the way, sighing briefly before closing his book once more. \"It is probably worth our time to hire a tracker. People are willing to do anything for coin, after all, and they'd likely be able to find this creature faster than either of us. Unless, of course, you know where it is or where to find it already?\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"I know where it is. I remember where I last went with my fallen friends.\" Replied the scholar, nodding to the barmaid in thanks as she took away his food tray. \"I've been observing it from afar.\"\n\n\"And as for my plan to capture or kill it, I have a theory. This bird is probably some kind of unholy being. And what do unholy beings hate the most? That's right; holy things.\"\n\n\"It seems to react to some sort of metal. I've tried silver, even some bathed in a pond under the light of a full moon, but I'm not sure about it. It didn't approach it when I placed said metal near some game, so I'm confident it's a sort of metal. I'm thinking of getting gold, but I don't have the resources.\""
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The duel between chain and sickle and rapier reached its climax right after Rogh taunted Atovar. The mercenary captain wasn't at all happy to be compared to the swordsman that had been a thorn on his side ever since he drafted his ticket for a bounty he thought to be easy coin. The first time proved to be his wake up call, but he didn't stop being haunted by the warrior's skill, even after capturing his friend and companion, the shapeshifter Marsila. He focused all of his rage to the fight with Rogh and charged at the slender fighter with great speed. Rogh tried to keep him away with a throw of his sickle. He gripped the chain tightly as the length extended, but he found Atovar's parry throwing the curved blade away. Rogh swung his iron ball from right to left with a crushing momentum, but again Atovar showed superior technique in slotting the thin blade of the rapier in one of the iron rings and twisting it, making the ball lose control and follow his lunge. The needle like sword found its way to Rogh's right shoulder, piercing through it.\n\n\"What was that you said?!\" Atovar screeched. \"I was going to die or something by your hand?! What a fucking trashbag you have for a mouth!\"\n\nAtovar twisted the blade and pulled out. He went for another quick thrust that found its target in the left shoulder of the warrior, nearly condemning both his upper limbs. \"Now, my reward!! Squeal, little piggy! Squeal for me!!\" The mercenary captain laughed maniacally as he lunged the sword forward, stabbing Rogh multiple times as the chain and sickle warrior grit his teeth and tried his best not to give the sadistic man the pleasure he sought. Atovar enjoyed it most when his victims screamed and cried, and Rogh knew that well enough to contain himself. The mercenary captain grew impatient and more violent, drenching Rogh's body in his own blood with more and more carved wounds.\n\n\"Fuck you!!\"\n\nRogh puked the words along with his own blood, dousing the torturer in red. His arms rose for a final yank of the chains, lifting the sickle off the ground and bringing it with a passion towards the nape of Atovar's neck. The sound of running chain was the warning the captain needed to dodge, barely so as he felt his left ear sliced in half before his eyes widened to the decapitation of the chain and sickle warrior by his own hand. \"He... He did it on purpose...?!\" Atovar sneered. No matter where he turned, there was someone ruining his fun and whisking away his victims, even if that meant suicide. In a fit of rage, he attacked one of his own men, the one closest to him, and began stabbing him until his arousal came through with the screams and squeals of begging. But release was as distant as it was close. He needed to find Marsila and finish what he started!\n\nThere was another problem brewing in Hexkrate. A problem caused by Atovar himself. He disrupted the link between the Alchemist and the rats, which made them run rampant in the sewers. The Three Heads were working hard with the crime families and factions to control the pest problem, and in some way one could say they were working with the guard, just on opposite fields of action. At that moment, the rats were contained to the sewers."
}
] | 213 | 1,115 |
1,300.666667 | 2019-03-01 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "jstkai",
"message": "\"Very well, i understand your concern but the rest of you must go home. The wolves is all that is needed, we don't want people becoming suspicious.\",Synthreya said with a smile and walked towards where she first sat and the wolves got closer.\n\n About 7 wolves all in a pack stood around Synthreya and sat near her as if guards to a queen. 2 wolves layed on her left and right as she sat back down and the other 5 stood behind her sitting down but up straight as if ready to pounce on anyone who were to make a move that could harm her. 3 wolves had flowers on them, 1 wolf with a black and white fur had a flower crown on it's head and the other two looked pretty identical as if twins with some black and shades of gray. The twin wolves both had flower necklaces on their neck. The pack that surrounded Synthreya was mostly of black, white and gray color all with blue or red eyes and only one with hazel eyes which was the one who layed on her right. If observed closely you could notice that the animals that were here about 1 out of 4 of each animal, snake and rabbit and bunny etc. They all held a cosmetic of some kind made of flowers whether it be a flower crown or a flower attached to them by a vine or two. \n\n\"The animals are still concerned so they wanted to stay, but I just want the wolves so we aren't a spot light for people to be curious about. I hope that's ok with you?\", she asked in concern looking at Rekkan as the other animals slowly disbursed and went on with their daily lives of living within the forests. However about 5 birds stayed above them in the trees and the others flew away, the 5 birds were watching, 2 of the birds had flowers on their heads. Synthreya pet the 2 wolves that layed next to her as she sat there looking at Rekkan waiting for a response.\n\n[ A bit tired, did this after i got home from work. Sorry if it's a bit Bleh xD ]"
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Rekkan was presented with a strange being. He couldn't tell if she was human or something else, but he could feel it clearly. She had power, perhaps more than his own and that of Sorqaqtani combined. Synthreya did not look like a warrior, but something more. Something magical. Contrary to popular belief in the Middlelands, magic was still very present in Marin and it was far more dangerous than a blade.\n\nSynthreya introduced herself after making sure that the wanderer before her was the one she was looking for. Her question was rhetorical, needless to answer. She already knew of his deed, but not only that. She knew what he looked like and had a grasp of what he was. It was in her grasp of his core that Rekkan had the chance to peer back, like an abyss eager to reflect what its beholder was like inside. It was then that Serene warned Rekkan from within his core, for Synthreya was not a being to trifle with. She was, as she introduced herself, a Lady of the Woods. The animals and plants respected her far and wide and magical beings which sprouted from the earth answered to her. The water nymph, Serene, did not have the compelling sensation to join the Lady. Perhaps it was her bond with Rekkan, or something else that was deeper hidden inside her ethereal essence.\n\n\"It is an honor to meet a Lady of the Woods, Rekkan. Mind your manners.\" The spirit spoke softly in his mind, a suggestion that he nodded to, alone.\n\nBut before Rekkan could speak, a plethora of animals spawned from the trees far in the distance and from the vast plains of tall grass that dotted the border between Ibethiel and South Feyshore, just before the massive walls of brown and grey formed to the north. Mammals, reptiles, avians and even insects, they all came to surround the woman and create a shield of flesh, talon, claw and fang. They were protective of the Lady as she was of the forests scattered all throughout Marin. The privilege of her presence was crossed with mild confusion. Synthreya thanked Rekkan for putting the dead to rest. Surely she was speaking of the old battlefield where humans and elves laid and their spirits were barred of moving on. The previous night was a massacre as well as a cleansing, a rite to make the spirits move forward.\n\nSynthreya spoke to the animals as if they understood her and from their sounds, growls and chirps, hisses and buzzes, it really felt like they did, just like she understood them all. That was something else, for never did they meet someone that could talk with feral beings, seemingly devoid of conscience. The tale being spun then made a remark that was opposite to the common sense of Marinese people. The Bear didn't show it, but he was as fascinated as Sorqaqtani, who had a contrasting reaction to his stoic expression. Hers was a face of marvel and curiosity. She wanted to know more about the Lady, for all she knew was in pages lost in an old and dusty book from her childhood. A book of Camira, no less.\n\n\"You can call me Rekkan.\" The wanderer said first and foremost. They both knew each other's names, apart from the latent energies coursing through the inside of their bodies. \"You don't need to thank us. We had no other choice. The dead rose and we made sure they stayed dead this time around.\" It was simple to put it that way, even though the two spirit walkers chanted together to make the corrupted spirits free of taint and able to traverse through to wherever their souls would go from there. The afterlife was a mystery, even to those who spoke with the souls of the dead.\n\n\n\n\"What Rekkan is trying to say-\" Sorqaqtani interrupted, pushing Rekkan aside, or trying to, while she looked at Synthreya with a blush and a smile she couldn't wipe off her face. Her spirits were high, maybe because of the influence of the Lady herself. \"-is that we appreciate your kind words, my Lady, and you are most welcome for our small service. We thank you for bestowing us with your presence!\" She bowed deeply, peeking at Rekkan from the corner of her eyes. Noticing he wasn't bowing, Sorqaqtani bumped his side with her elbow. Rekkan raised his left brow at her, then looked back at Synthreya. He sighed.\n\n\"What she said.\"\n\nContrary to Sorqaqtani, his bow was simple and short. The fact that they were standing still made him a little impatient and it was visible in how he turned around a few times to see the pass stretch before them. When the wanderer looked at Synthreya again, he could still see the shape of her face's lines. Concern. Why? She was not concerned about herself, surrounded by allies and harboring magic. Was she concerned about the man she was face to face with? How peculiar if that was true. Rekkan crossed his arms in front of his chest and took a deep breath that lifted his chest and shoulders. His back arched slightly in the expansion of his lungs and organs, then retracted when he blew it all out, shoulders slumped forward. Repeat.\n\n\"I don't want to disrespect you, Forest Lady, but I'm in a hurry. I don't have time for idle chatter with you and your animals.\" He said bluntly. Sorqaqtani was saddened by his words, but they made her remember of the nature of their journey. Marsila was waiting for Rekkan, hopefully. \"You said your piece and now we must go. Someone's waiting on me and I'm already running late.\" The wanderer bowed sharp and short once again and turned around. He didn't wait for a reply. He took a few steps to find the Bear following him and Sorqaqtani in the middle of his walk and the Lady of the Woods. Stranded.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" Rekkan asked the Bear.\n\n\"With you! Naturally.\" The large man answered with a toothy, almost feral, grin.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"You're strong! I have hunted many men in search of someone as strong as you! I want to know where your path leads you and fight alongside you!\"\n\n\"Don't you have a wife and kids? You're better off at their side, protecting them.\" He tried to reject the man with reason.\n\n\"I have said my goodbyes! I might see them again, or not. But I know of your journey and who you are up against. You will need my help and more! I guarantee that!\" The Bear was obviously talking about the not so distant battle with the criminal underworld of Hexkrake. Did Rekkan even have a plan?\n\n\"Carry your own weight. I won't chaperone anyone.\"\n\n\"Of course!\" The Bear was capable of fending for himself, but he also knew that Rekkan was pulling a front more than he spoke the truth. If not, why would he have gone through all the trouble of journeying to Ibethiel? He was going to rescue Marsila, the shapeshifter Atovar took from his side. There was no outright answer. A grunt, perhaps, then a continuation of motion. Sorqaqtani pursed her lips and waved Synthreya goodbye. She wished they met in different circumstances. But no one knew the Lady had a mind to follow them. Did she?"
},
{
"author": "jstkai",
"message": "Synthreya watched the group leave and a smile grew on her face from their bond and how sweet Rekkan seems. She pet the wolf to her right as she watched them leave and gave him a warm smile.\n\n \"Call your Alpha, Let's go for an adventure. It would be good to follow that group and possibly repay them for what they've done with South Feyshore\", she demanded nicely. The wolf nodded and it ran off in quick haste to get his Alpha. Synthreya stood up with the wolves gently helping her up, she chuckled with their fur petting her softly and caressing her skin. She stood there looking up at the birds and nodded her head as if giving them a sign. The birds responded with some chirps and flew off spreading through out Ibethiel and following the group as they headed off on their journey acting naturally.\n\nShe looked back down at the wolves and heard some twigs snapping as the wolf returned with a bigger wolf then the rest. This big wolf was a creature of fully black fur and crimson red eyes, it was as big as a bear. The big wolf was the Alpha who once saw Synthreya walked up to her and nudged his head into her face gently from which she responded with a giggle and pet it softly. \"Hello there Archibald, it sure has been a minute from which we last saw each other hehe\", she chuckled as she felt the Alpha or Archibald's fur tickle her face. Archibald had a very soft mane and very fluffy fur but from the looks of it's soft and gentle fur and body it was a huge and ferocious animal if his pack is threatened.\n\nSynthreya touched the head of Archibald and he laid his head down upon the ground, Synthreya smiled and jumped onto his back with a chuckled. \"You've been taking care of your fur haven't you Archibald? It's so soft and lovely\", Archibald gave a playful bark at which she chuckled once again. Synthreya sat on Archibalds back with bother of her legs dangling off his right side. She looked forward as he marched and followed the group, the other wolves smelled the floor as they followed the scent of Rekkan and his posse. \"Let's follow them but we should stay away from causing any attention. As well as keep close to them but without them knowing. It would be a nice little road trip don't you think?\", Synthreya asked with a happy expression as she continued to look forward as she rode Archibald and talked to him. \n\nShe could feel the wind pick up from them being so near the mountains and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear while she gave a warm smile and watched as she ventured throughout Ibethiel and following Rekkan and his group. A group of birds about 5 of them all flew around Synthreya, she lifted her hand in the air and a bird landed upon it. She smiled as she kissed it's head and the others landed on Archibald and 2 rested upon her lap. She looked at them and smiled. \"I see so Rekkan and his group are all adventuring together? From what you said how long have you been stalking him?\", she chuckles and looks at the bird which chirped and responded with some tweets that sounded like it was embarrassed. \"I see, Well thank you for being curious. So now we know that he searches for someone and i'm guessing that someone is of great importance to him from what you say... I do hope he sees what wishes and not what he does not.\"\n\nShe looked a bit worried as she thought about Rekkan and his group. < The one thing that concerns me is how did he get hold of such a creature? By accident? Summon? He doesn't seem like the type to look for help from other creatures but yet... >, Synthreya thought to herself and showed a face of concern as the bird noticed and chirped. She gave the bird a smile, \"Do not fret my friend, I am fine. Our friends that we follow are making me worried from what they seek. I just do not wish for them to be harmed as i do all of you.\", she said with a voice as if a mothers who is loving and caring for all.\n\nSynthreya looked up in the sky and saw that the sun was shining brightly and was giving her warmth with Archibald's fur from the powerful wind of the mountain. The wolves and Synthreya all walked along paths that humans would not venture for example on trails that to the people are abandoned and dangerous but secretly their passages for animals to follow, as well as walking along the shadow of the trees within tiny forests near the mountain. They stayed along paths that humans would usually use but hid and sneaked until they saw no one nearby and continued to venture.\n\nAlthough they were a couple yards away from the group they could still smell the scent and they followed the tactic of which if the scent got weaker then they go a path of which the scent is stronger but remember only to keep out of sight of the group. As they ventured and followed the posse the pack and synthreya would often steal some meats from passing Caravans and feed the pack or Synthreya would ask nicely to the people and give them seeds or herbs she has on her as payment.\n\nAs Synthreya and the pack ventured they would sometimes pass lakes and rivers of which the pack would rest for a break until the scent weakens and then they press on. They were slow and silent as they passed through Ibethiel secretly. Sometimes Synthreya would use magic to grow the crops in Ibethiel to be used as walls so the pack and her can hide behind it as knights or villagers passed by. She would even lay seeds on the fields and would help grow the crops if they look sick or were close to wilting completely. Synthreya paused for a bit on her way of following the group and hopped off of Archibalds back, the wolves stopped but the alpha nodded at which was a sign saying \"We'll catch up, keep going\" Or \"You go on, we'll there soon\".\n\nSynthreya went into a wheat field and peaked over as she seen cabbages and lettuce as well as carrots and plants all looking poor and weren't being properly cared for, she looked to her right and noticed a small house that seemed poor and rusty. Archibald caressed the back of Synthreya's head with his snout, \"Don't worry Archibald, the plants are sad from their care and it looks like the farmer is to poor to care for them completely...\", she said with a sad tone and placed her hand on the floor of the wheat field. A surge of energy would flow throughout the earth and some flowers and grass would grow around Synthreya's hand which spread forward and went to the field of poorly treated plants.\n\nThe energy would spread throughout the field as a shimmer or shine of green sparkles and threads of lime green mist would fly around the field and the plants would grow from wilt to fresh. Archibald looked around as she did this and saw that the knights who were coming could not see the event happen from the wall of stone that surrounds both the field of wheat and the field of plants. She raised her hand and the mist and sparkles faded away as the knights got close and saw that the fields were looking as colorful as ever.\n\nSynthreya and the wolf hid behind the wheat as the knights passed by and she hopped on Archibald's back. He hopped over the wall and carried Synthreya as they went back to the pack and continued to venture through the forests near the farmland. She sighed as Archibald gave a slight grr. \"Yes i know it was close but you know i can't leave dying plants there to rot, plus... I'm sure that the farmer would be happy to see those plants looking lovely and can feed himself instead of going for days on a empty stomach.\", she said with a smile. \"I thank you for putting up with me haha\", she chuckled and Archibald gave a playful bark as a response at which she laughed a bit out loud. \n\nThe wolves would continue on their journey and repeatedly continued their routine of giving gifts to people and getting meat for the pack in return. Although Synthreya was saddened from seeing the dead sheep or cow meat that the people held she carried on as she knows that the pack eats meat and needs food. Sometimes the people that gave her meat would be men and would over gift her meat from being in attracted to her at which either way she would thank them and walk back to the pack always using the excuse that her family is hungry and would love to have some meat for their lunch.\n\nAlthough she felt bad for telling them that she at the same time wasn't lying, the wolves are to her counted as her family. They sometimes had left over meat from which Synthreya would always wrap up in leaves and placed it on the back of the other wolves like grass satchels that held the food as they followed the group."
}
] | 1,572 | 3,902 |
182.363636 | 2019-03-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "Orion stares at the entrance to the capitol. As he walks in he looks around for the nearest pub, when Orion finds it he enters and takes a seat directly at the bar. He knocks on the counter and asks for a drink, then turns around on his stool to watch the crowd, slowly taking sips from his mug. He unstraps his sword sheath and places it on the counter, it leaves a small puddle of blood, dripping from the small slit between his cross guard and the entrance to the sheath. The bartender gives Orion an odd look \"Sorry bout that been guttin folks.\" He chuckles to himself before focusing on his still mostly full mug."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Orion,?\nThe Drunken Fist, Hexraxe\n\nCoincidental or preordained by fate, - one may call it how they see fit in a perspective governed by the be holder's foundations - Orion stumbled upon the \"Drunken Fist\", a pub in Hexraxe that was notorious for being a meeting point for sellswords, hired blades, mercenaries, and all the similar professions that all ultimately sought over one thing: coin. Because of this, there weren't only the ones looking for work visiting the pub, but several employers that searched for the right person to indulge them or their masters in whatever service they required to be accomplished.\n\nSomeone was watching Orion. To the man with the bloodied weapon, lazy to clean it and keep it from the rusted stain of blood, that someone's name would be as meaningful as the weight of the coin in his purse. In this particular case, as the employer approached, he had the idea of grooming Orion into the ranks of something larger.\n\n\"My, my. What a mess you made of the counter.\" The man could be heard, sitting on the stool next to Orion. \"You've been gutting folks, you say? Murder is an offense punishable by death in Ibethiel, did you know that?\" He chuckled lightly, setting an odd mood for a possible conversation."
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "Orion turns his head and looks at the man \"Ye I gut people, and I am fully aware of the punishment but luckily for me death comes second to coin. And as for my blade I enjoy fermenting the smell of blood to my blade so whoever's unlucky enough to come across it can smell the previous prey.\" Orion gingerly sets his drink down before turning to the man. \"My name's Orion and I have a real nasty habit of gutting men who deserve it.\" Orion smirks a sickly grin \"Or those who do not.. Anyhow, you're obviously not here to talk about the weather. Who needs gutting?\" Orion smiles at the man."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Orion,?\nThe Drunken Fist, Hexraxe\n\nThe man listened intently to Orion. He sketched a grin from ear to ear to show rotting teeth, some missing from their set. He quite liked what the sellsword said, and the sellsword looked quite like the kind his employers would like to have in their ranks.\n\n\"Hello, Orion. You can call me James.\" It wasn't his real name. Not that it mattered. \"And your habit might be useful to the right people. New in town? You must be, else you wouldn't be with this lot here.\" He said and grinned, glancing over his shoulders now and again, seeing if he recognized any of the faces present. \"I may have... A service. A job. A mark. Someone that needs to die. Would you like to hear more? Hear something like this?\" The man went to his hip and cupped the pouch full of coins, lifting it up and throwing it into the air. When it landed on his palm, the jingling coins could be heard inside."
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "Orion looks at the coin for a minute, thinking. \"You wouldn't offer this amount of coin for some unruly runt, this looks dangerous. And luckily for you, I like dangerous.\" Orion smirks and laughs for a minute before slapping the bar counter \"I'm in, but I have a few questions for you... James.\" Orion reaches into the small knapsack he has on his hip and pulls out a piece of paper.\n\"Write down who he is, where he is and what time you want him dead. And here\" Orion points at the bottom of the paper \"Tell me how brutal you want it to be.\" Orion slides the small sheet to James and leans back and crosses his arms."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "James(?), Orion\nThe Drunken Fist, Hexraxe\n\n\"You're very bright and you're quite right.\" James said in a bit of a mock. He slid the hefty bag of coins back onto the side of his waist and looked at the paper on the counter. Poor James. He couldn't exactly read. He was a mathematician of a sort, but not all that great with words. Orion could see a grimace form in his employer's face. \"No, no. I can't work like that. I will tell you and you will remember, yeah?\"\n\nThe man drew closer to Orion. He wanted to share a secret or to whisper for the sake of whispering. Whichever worked. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the info. He was quite glad to give it away under the promise of having the mark killed for compensation. \"Joseph- Vema-.\" He said low, in a mutter, and slow, without stutter. \"But-... EHH, I don't really know *Where* He is. But if my sources are correct, he should be arriving soon in Hexraxe. There is an old estate deeper into the city that was once property of the Vema family.\" He nodded to himself. \"Maybe he will return there.\""
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "Orion drew closer to him as well, he looks James straight in the eye \"I only need a few more pieces of information then I'll have your targets head.\" Orion does a full turn of the bar making sure nobody was suspicous. \"How many guards should I expect and how painful you want his death.\" Orion grabs his blade, the blood that was slowly dripping on the counter turned into a small stream when he lifted his blade up. It spelt on the floor and quickly pooled \"Oi I'm sorry bout that\" Orion calls for the bar wench and pointed out the blood before switching to the other side of James"
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "James(?), Orion\nThe Drunken Fist, Hexraxes\n\nOrion wasn't stupid. At least he wasn't a blatant fool. He was blunt and nonchalant of his ways, which James thought typical and *Ironic*. He smiled at the hired blade and took another pouch out of his waist, on his right. It was smaller, still full.\n\n\"Here are some rounds or whatever you want to spend your coin in. The wenches are fine here too!\" He winked his left eye at Orion, then at the wench cleaning and overhearing their conversation. James didn't simply look at her at a glance. He glared momentarily and reached his right hand up to his large beard rolling down from his chin. He stroked the beard, thoughtful and as a distraction for the prying eyes, hidden intent. The wench smirked at him. He didn't really threaten her. She was too knowing. So well knowing she knew how to pull a front and act oblivious. She did try to clean harder and faster. She was quite good at wielding the mopstick. \"There will probably be a few guards and, uhh, do what you like most! But yeah! I'll see you soon.\"\n\nHe talked through Orion's switching seats casually, no fret. James finished his drink, if he ever had one to begin with, and stood up from his stool. He disappeared into one corner or other of the Drunken Fist, only the gods knowing what he would do next."
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "\"Quite the queer man\" Orion thought to himself. He flipped a coin onto the counter top and winked at the Wench before leaving to begin his quest to the manor.\n\nOrion\nVema family Estate\n\nOrion crouches behind some bushes watching the estate quietly. He sips from his canteen before sliding it back into his pouch and leaning up against a tree then pulls out a book on knighthood. Orion reads the book before falling into a light slumber thinking about the odd man in the bar and his life choices which ultimately lead back to soundless static echoing in his scarred brain."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "The Vema Estate\n\nLeft abandoned for at least twenty years, the old residence was conquered by overgrowth on the outside. There were large and coiled vines around corners and windows. It was a house of rather simple design, a manor short of beauty in the eye of nobility of artistic eye- or the idea of the artistic eye. Flawed.\n\nIt didn't matter.\n\nJoseph Vema had other aspirations. Which aspirations were those? It was rather unclear, murky water on black iron bucket. Or was it a helmet? It had a strange sigil nonetheless. But was it real? Not on the surface.\n\nThe estate was seemingly empty. There were no guards posted outside the walls, and the gate was closed, sealed with chain. The property was lush with chaotic growth of vines and trees and bushes alike."
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "Orion stares at the chained gate. \"Fuck.\" He decides to walk around the perimeter and see if there was any weak points and or places to put a rope. He finds a good enough spot and throws the hook connected to the rope over the wall hoping to get it stuck in a crack so he can climb over. *Cling* It hooks into the wall. He yanks it to make sure it won't slip and makes his ascension behind the estate walls."
}
] | 148 | 2,006 |
125 | 2019-03-20 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Orion,\nThe Vema Estate\n\nAlthough the walls surrounding the Vema Estate were still standing, several sections of the stone perimeter were cracked, victim of decay and erosion. The rope Orion threw found its support in one of those cracks, but the question could be how well the walls endured the passage of time. As the sellsword made his way up the wall, he felt the rumbling of rock and the loosening of layers. The fact could bring him pause, but if he dared to continue, the wall would prove to be resistant and allow him to cross over.\n\nThe ground below Orion was covered in thick green of grass and bush. If he jumped down, he'd be knee deep in vegetation. There were still no signs of life in the old estate, but there was the odd sensation that eyes could be watching."
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "The Vema Estate\n\n\"I fucking hate snakes.\" Orion would jump down into the knee deep foliage with his sword drawn ready to stab any unwieldy reptiles, Orion would quickly dash through the shrubbery and tall grass trying to get to the estate as quick as possible. Orion had an odd feeling, a feeling that he was being watched. The walls of the estate were cold and lifeless. \"Reminds me of me ex wife\" Orion chuckled to himself. He would look for windows that are open to climb into."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Orion,\nThe Vema Estate\n\nThere was unbridled fauna like there was flora, a mix of stray cats hidden behind the rustling of bushes and vines. Other smaller animals like lizards and snakes wandered about in their business, simple in their needs to eat and survive.\n\nOrion made it to the walls of the abandoned house without hindrance. Most of the windows were boarded up, but oddly enough there was one around the back that was closed, but not barred by wooden planks."
}
] | 107 | 375 |
486.333333 | 2019-03-22 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Joseph, Rekkan\nThe Vema Estate, The Cellar\n\nThe large room the group was in was dimly lit by flickers of candlelight. It exposed wooden beams and stone walls, the table Joseph sat behind, and cobweb ridden barrels and old cupboards. Dust laid over every plate pillar and line of wine glasses. Joseph's arctic blue gaze remained locked with Rekkan's dark brown, striking red lines on the bright irises of the being. The head of the Vema family was still waiting for an answer from the warrior standing before him, surrounded by friends and crooks.\n\n\"Are you ready, Rekkan?\"\n\nJoseph was a patient man, but he didn't like the silence the cellar was resting in. It had been a few moments since he asked the warrior if he would join him or not.\n\n\"I ain't pleased, but lead the way.\" Rekkan grimaced in the first part of his sentence and spat the last words. He was tired of being led on and wanted to make the fact known. Joseph smirked. His influence made the odd man submit to his way, at least for the current time.\n\n\" Our first problem is the pest in the sewers. They endanger the people that came to respect me and see me as their protector in the Undercity.\" He explained. \"Most, if not all of my resources, are focused on finding my daughter.\" Joseph leaned back on the chair and craned his head. His long black hair draped his shoulder. \"I can't do it myself, and the people we help might help us when we get closer to our goals.\" The Vema was mysterious. He spoke in the plural form, as if there was more to his presence in Hexraxes other than saving his daughter, Marsila.\n\n\"You want me to kill a few rats for *Who*? I can help find Marsila. Move your resources to the rat problem.\" Rekkan retorted firmly, with a scowling hint.\n\n\"I'm sure you can help find my daughter, but you're also more capable than any of my guys, even *Jaxton*, in a fight. \" Joseph admitted. \"The sooner you clean the sewers of rodents, the sooner you can pool your strengths with mine in finding and rescuing Marsila. Please.\"\n\n\nWhat a waste of time. What did Rekkan care about people that chose to live in some place called the Undercity? He was fixated in a single objective, and that was being with Marsila again. It was to talk with her and kiss her, because it had been such a long time on his own, wandering a landscape torn by the wicked hand of man and twisted to the perspective of a sadist fool, aimless and whimsical, left to survive and outlive.\n\nHe had purpose in staying by her and do her good. And now her father wanted to take her away when he could have her in his arms. Selfish grunt. The world around him could burn afterward or not. In the end, he couldn't turn down Joseph Vema's request. The crook had no reasons to lie, not when his daughter mattered. He came all the way to Hexraxes to see her return through. He meant her well, even if he only saw Rekkan as a tool to achieve his mission.\n\n\"Right.\" Rekkan answered plainly. He was bothered under his stoic facade, his tone spilled coarse fragments of anger. He wanted to take control or to strike out on his own. He wanted Marsila more than anything. He wanted everyone else gone. He despised the atmosphere in the cellar. It reeked of shallowness, vice, the artificial dark of human creation, of human emotion.\n\nThe Three Heads\nThe Undercity, Colosseum\n\n\"Joseph Vema has returned.\" The Rat, which spoke least of the heads, stated.\n\nThe dark silhouettes of the three heads were a striking image of mystery. It was unclear who each head was, or rather they made their identities in such a way secret that not even their own families knew them, the rumors said. The Rat, center of the three, could be said to be the mastermind, but they usually came to agreements of three or majority to settle disputes and more. The Diplomat turned his neck to look at the Rat. They revealed their matching yellow eyes before the bright color faded for green and brown. The atmosphere around them was heavy and cold, with cross cutting winds dragging unseen souls and wrapping around the mortal flesh that inhabited the Undercity. The colosseum was where a huge amount of diverse energies flocked and intertwined. There was mysticism under the feet of the Families and the other gangs and crooks.\n\n\"Are you sure?\" The Diplomat asked.\n\nThe Rat sniffed the air and nodded. \"One of the marks has arrived too.\"\n\n\"Rekkan.\" The Diplomat spat the name as if it repulsed him.\n\n\"Atovar's plan worked.\" The Ticket Master said. \"The thug comes to rescue his pet.\" He craned his head forward to peer at the Diplomat standing on the opposite side of the three heads. \"You must be pleased. The warrior will be here soon.\" \n\n\"I will be pleased when his head hangs from a pike. We lost face in Astoria with his and his pet's games.\"\n\nThe Rat sneered. \"Call for the gangs and our supporters. It's time to prepare the arena.\"\n\nSynthreya,?\nThe Undercity,\n\nFar from the plots that rid the colosseum of dark intentions, in the edges of the Undercity, the small gangs and communities of drifters and runaways began to fight over territory like madmen. They pushed into the ruins' core, madmen running from the plague that swarmed the sewers and invaded the Undercity. Among the ranks of one of the communities were Synthreya and the guard captain that separated himself from his squad. The men under his command returned to the surface via the exit suggested by their leader, leaving him and the Lady of the Woods behind. They met with the inhabitants of the broken homes of the outskirts, survivors in the dark spaces of the world below Hexraxes.\n\nThe group they joined was made of young and old rejects of civilized society. They lived on the edge where the Families had no jurisdiction, where they could write their own laws, but now they needed to relocate to keep their families safe. Synthreya was empathetic towards their cause. She helped treat those that were wounded, concealing her minimal use of healing magic to hide her mystical origins from their average minds and slumbering souls. They were more akin to animals than humans, simple to deal with in the blunt manifestation of their emotions. She gained their trust, for accompanying the man and providing her knowledge in medicine. The man, captain of the guard above, was known by the group of rejects. He spoke their tongue, a skewered version of Ibethielian, created and shaped by the denizens of the Undercity and the poorer areas of the capital.\n\nThere was fighting deeper into the streets and alleys of the Undercity. Wielding sticks and stones, rusty swords and makeshift knives, the different groups butchered each other. Deeper still, the bandits and rogues loyal to the families barred entry to the Families' controlled quarter with the strike of blade on flesh. Death stalked the Undercity's streets. Synthreya crossed places littered with bodies, carcasses of humans and rats combined. The guard made sure to command those holding torches to burn the rats that were not charred.\n\n\"How come you know so much about this place?\" The priestess asked with her hazel eyes set on the captain.\n\nHe chuckled. \"Isn't it obvious? I was born here.\" He guided the group to a rundown temple, of carvings and symbols that had been forgotten by mankind. Other gods, perhaps? Who was to know what it all meant? The building was large enough to house the group. There they rested and spoke of the coming change, words Synthreya couldn't realize due to the heavy accent and strange words they used. One of the words she understood and listened to more was \"Vema\". The guard captain mentioned earlier that they were walking into Vema territory. Was that someone that looked after these people? She didn't know. They all seemed desolate and alone, with no one to look after them or guide them. Black sheep of a tainted flock.\n\nThe captain had a specific mission to carry out. It wasn't one given by his superiors in the Guard, but the figure he was loyal to. He didn't tell Synthreya about it, let alone the details of it. Show and tell would have to do for her to understand, if she could piece it all together."
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "The Vema Estate\n\nOrion looked around the empty rooms on the ground floor before moving upstairs. He walked carefully keeping his wits about him, as he reached the top he slid his blade out slowly. \"Admortem inimicus\" He said to himself before traversing forward.\n\nOrion felt off, its empty and so quiet he could hear his inner thoughts with such magnitude he felt himself slowly going insane, not that it could get any worse. He explores one or two rooms before traveling further into the estate."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Joseph, Rekkan\nThe Vema Estate \n\nA man bearing common face and average frame stepped down the old creaky steps carefully to make the least noise and approached the dim light of candlelight assembled. Joseph took his eyes off of Rekkan to glance at the man and roll them. He nodded shortly after, leaning his back forward, elbows on the wooden surface of the table as he prepared to listen. His eyes gazed elsewhere, unknown, while the man whispered something to him on his ear. His stoic facade didn't break. He reared back on the chair instead and returned his gaze to meet Rekkan's.\n\n\"Slight change of plans, wildman.\" He kept the charade of divisive realms, noble versus savage. It was just a play, mockery for fun. \"I would invite you to a meal, but I seem to have a rat problem of my own to take care of.\" Joseph smirked, then dismissed Rekkan and the others with a haughty wave. The warrior sneered. Instead of heeding the words of the fatherly figure of Marsila, he jolted forward, springing to action. It was then that everyone could peek at a flaming trick. The air in front of Rekkan's right palm struck sparks and caught on fire, combustion bringing blade to cause and effect in the sinews of reality. His long and swift stride almost caught Joseph Vema's neck by a breath, but it could've taken it. It could have sprayed blood. Joseph felt the killing intent. It was a bellowing cry for freedom. His eyes, arctic blues, drowned in the wideness of his stare. Alert, yet distant. It took little to no time to collect himself, but the image was drawn in his head.\n\n\"Now you know.\" It was all Rekkan said.\n\n\" Yeah. Now I know.\" Joseph didn't like Rekkan. He acted on instinct more than not, though his commitment to save Marsila and, perhaps, his love for her... Joseph almost laughed out loud. His love? What if he did or not? Rekkan was a brute and then, at the end, he was a show off. So what if he could take the head of the Vema's leading member? He was a monster, Joseph knew that much. Why gloat about it?\n\n\"C'mon. The faster you do this, the closer we are to Marsila.\"\n\nOne last treat by the host to the edgy guest was permission to enter his actual storeroom, which was the door next to the trapdoor to the sewers. Rekkan armed himself with some spears, perhaps with the intent to throw them. The armor wasn't his size. He was one meter and ninety three, and not many got three digits below. Off with the same pants and tunic, though a red cloak caught his attention and he donned it. It fit quite well.\n\nJoseph,\nThe Vema Estate, Ground Floor\n\nThat meeting was finally over. It ended without climax, though the end proved to be quite the jumpscare. Rekkan could be a liability. What if he turned on his allies in the end to be with Marsila? To take her from her father and mother? He'd have to trust his judgment of a wild animal, a beast that was perhaps best put down. Were he to return with Rekkan's head to colosseum, the Families might open up to him so he could crush them from the inside out!\n\nAt the moment, Joseph could not have those thoughts. Armed with a longsword and accompanied by a couple of goons, he made his way around the house. Knowing by the other man that the perpetrator was upstairs, Joseph signaled his men to corners of the entrance and hid in his own, waiting for the trespasser to come back down.\n\nSynthreya,?\nThe Undercity, Forgotten Temple\n\nThe group fortified the ruined church for the next hours. They lacked rest from a journey that started with battle and despair. First, they were chased by rats, then by the other gangs. The guard captain proved to be a great aid with his steel armor and sword. He kept his spear on his back when fighting humans, especially those with little to no armor. His sword was easier to maneuver, it could cut and stab. He was also not afraid of the enemies that laid before him. They were starving drifters and krackers, men and women addicted to some substance or another that destroyed their bodies. Not a match for a fighter.\n\nThey were in the solace of the temple's protection and look outs on the two entrances, the main one where laid a collapsed pillar and the back entrance, barely decayed. Synthreya walked to the captain when it was his turn to guard the rear. She was curious about him, because he seemed to pull a grand mask of hollow emotions to protect a weaker self. Either that, or he was cunning and deceitful. There was a greater chance of it being the latter.\n\n\"We have traveled all this time and I still do not know your name.\" She said. \"Mine is Synthreya.-\"\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah, you told. I'm Ruttgart.\"\n\n\"It is a pleasure to meet you.\"\n\n\"*Hardly*, but I will let that rub on you. Was there something you needed?\"\n\n\"I-... I just wanted to talk, that's all! \" The Lady of the Woods blushed though she spoke sharply.\n\n\"Talk we have. I'm not fond of chaperoning you much longer. It will also be easier for you to go on alone when I say so. There's bound to be heavy fighting from now on.\" He spoke with a sense of foreboding.\n\nThe woman stood her ground.\n\n\"I am needed here. If the fighting gets worse...\"\n\nRuttgart gazed at Synthreya with a knowing eye. He wasn't oblivious to how she treated some of the injured. People saw strange things in the Undercity. Some discarded it as something in the eye, others had experience to say otherwise. The guard captain dabbled in the skepticism towards magic, condemning it to petty tricks. Then he discovered a new world. Some people grew out to be corrupt, greedy and selfish. The guard captain wasn't less so, but he had a taste for more than just basic needs and wants. His wanderlust drove him to the surface and to the culture he was introduced to by the Vema.\n\n\"Your hands glow brighter?\"\n\nHe was so casual in the conclusion of Synthreya's sentence. She stared at him. How did he notice? The Lady tried her best to conceal her magic, but the guard captain was a shrewd one. Ruttgart smirked. It was a haughty smirk. Synthreya raised a brow. Perhaps she wasn't taking to his set stage driven on mocking her. She frowned. \"Yes. My hands will grow brighter and the roots shall rise from the earth!\" Her tone was serious, her voice low to stray from prying ears, but confident.\n\nRuttgart didn't question her then. She was madly serious or mad. Indulging those thoughts didn't sit well in his mind. She was a witch or a sorcerer, something that shouldn't be in Ibethiel. Magic didn't have a place in the mind of the population. They were farmers at heart, worldly idealists. Matter over ether."
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "Orion looked around for a bit to find nothing. He decided to go downstairs and wait for his target to arrive. Orion crept down slowly, he stops dead in his tracks. \"A few, that's all.\" Orion said to himself. \"More than two.\" Orion reached into his small pouch and grabbed a small clay ball then hid it behind his back, he then inhaled and exhaled before walking down the stairs to the ground floor.\n\nOrion stopped at the bottom of the stairs. \"Good evening, I'm going after one of you, which one I do not know. If you would kindly point out the man who's paying you please do so. Then you are free to leave.\" Orion was bluffing, he didn't know if he could take more than three at once but he was steadfast and ready to fight to the death, he eagerly grasped his blade."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Joseph\nThe Vema Estate\n\nThe sellsword wasn't completely dumb. He still strolled down the stairs to meet face to face with his mark, unbeknownst to him. Joseph Vema had a strong figure. He was staring with a confident gaze, arctic blue hues attentive to the other's movements. He noticed how the arm was so awkwardly positioned and smirked. There was a plan in that man's mind, wasn't there?\n\n\"Are you occupying this place in the current owner's stead? Or was it coin that moved you?\" He asked, his back straight and face held high. \"It doesn't matter. You can try using whatever is on your back, but I advise you just turn around and leave the same way entered.\" Joseph holds a burst of laughter. He smirks passionately at Orion, though it was unsure if he was pulling strings or not."
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "\"Oh this?\" Orion pulls the small clay ball from behind his back \"This isn't part of a plan this is for you if you try and attack me.\" Orion flips the clay ball in his hand looking directly in the eyes of Joseph \"You spoke up first, I'm guessing you're the leader.\" Orion points his sword upside down at Joseph \"You're aware someone wants you dead right? I'm sure you were expecting me. I was expecting you to be taller, bigger perhaps?\" Orion tested Joseph's pride, perhaps upset him? Make him reckless? Orion was confident in his approach, his eyes burning within."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Joseph, Orion\nThe Vema Estate\n\nWhat an odd character. Joseph wasn't interested in chancing upon whatever that ball of clay was. The little things could be the worst. He had a notion from other odds and, of course, a shape-shifting child. The *Mob boss* Didn't shake from the words tossed at him. There was no frown or grimace, no grunt disgruntled.\n\n\"So, part of the plan.\" Joseph repeated, smirking haughty at the sellsword before him. A subtle step back had them grown apart. That was good. \"I was expecting *Someone*. But you might do.\" His eyes were riddled with intrigue. The man just said he was here to kill Joseph and yet, the Vema felt more at ease with Orion than Rekkan breathing his blade's tip onto his neck. That was something to think about later. \"I need someone to get into the Undercity and leak information. Easy, no? You must be new. There's a lot of coin involved.\""
},
{
"author": "asschomp6119",
"message": "\"More coin huh? I'm in. What are we doing.\" Orion said to Joseph. Orion only cares about coin. If the target has more coin available Orion will take it. That's all he wants."
},
{
"author": "rekkan3750",
"message": "Joseph, Orion\nThe Vema Estate, Hexraxes\n\n\"Loyal to coin, eh? Ever the true mercenary. Is that all you seek?\" Joseph said, coy in his remark and sly in his question. He tilted his head to the right, towards the door that led to the hallway from where the stranger came in. \"Let's talk outside. After you.\"\n\nJoseph Vema made a second gesture and two men appeared from the shadows. There were others below, making arrangements for the next phase in planning. While Rekkan was moving to the sewers and Joseph talked with the mercenary, his retainers continued writing on fine sheets of paper and sealing letters with the old Vema seal. The wax pressed hard on the paper, smudging it red with the noble symbol.\n\nThe people bound to receive these messages had a choice to make."
}
] | 180 | 4,377 |
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{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph walked through the forests of Ibethiel, crossbow drawn and pointed at the ground. He wasn't making any particular attempt to be sneaky. He had just picked up a quarrel that he had gotten out of a bird he had shot. He wouldn't go hungry today.\n\nHe shook his head as he sat down on the ground, stowing his crossbow and setting up a fire with a tinderbox. It was almost comical watching the huge musclebound man stare intently at the fire... He wasn't quite an adept at fire starting yet. Once the flame finally caught, he smiled in satisfaction and began chopping some wood up from stumps with his axe.\n\nHe was careful with every swing. He didn't know what would retrigger an... Incident, and he didn't want to be caught out in the wild unguarded again, helpless. It was twilight, the sun almost set."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nBeatrice stood with her feet in a pond, near a dense patch of trees. Her smile was infectious as she bent down and held a large purple flower floating atop the water. \"It's a lovely day to be alive.\" She muttered this blessing to no one exactly as she imagined everything that had gone her way. No one had caught her once again, she had kept a low profile, and she hadn't caught an illness. Yet, it seemed like with every pro there was a con. Her feet were cut and sore with thorns stuck in the heels of them, her lips were cracked and bloody from tripping onto a rock, and her hair was knotted with tree branches.\n\nSmoke in the air seemed to grasp her attention like fish and hook. A small gasp left her lungs as she scrambled to follow the sight of the smoke. Fear gripped her chest. *Who owns the smoke?* A small whimper escaped her lips as she forced her cut feet to move over sticks and rocks.\n\nShe would find who was out there."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph finished chopping the wood and whittled down a stick to use as a stake to turn the meager bird on. He smiled as he worked, it reminded the man of home, and his carving. Joseph carved another 2 sticks, but thicker, and set them in the ground on each side of the fire.\n\nHe began to pluck the feathers off of the bird and started whistling as he worked. It was a little bit off-key, but it was an old song about a barkeep gone nuts who resorted to robbery. It sounded dark, but it was an amusing song, and quite cheery, and was very popular in his old town.\n\nHe finished plucking the bird and then spitted it and began to roast it. He hadn't eaten all day, and a bird this big wasn't the best meal in the world, but hey. Work with what you got."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nBeatrice soon came across a clearing, and her eyes first fell upon a man that sat in front of a fire. He happily ate his food and Beatrice found herself feeling intrigued. *All men think alike.* Beatrice held her breath as she watched the man chew his food and she smelled the meat. It was refreshing, something she hadn't smelled in years.\n\nIt was almost as if she couldn't control her curiosity as she peered at him from behind a tree, a spark of innocence igniting her eyes. \"Protect me.\" She whispered to the trees around her, feeling safe with them hiding herself. Gently, she ran her hand down the bark of her tree as she continued to watch the man at the camp fire.\n\nShe had only made a camp fire once and it hadn't turned out as lovely as she would have helped. Silently, she slipped back from behind the tree and covered her mouth to suppress the sound of her breathing. The last thing she needed was to be seen by the man."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph rose after finishing his meal and wiped his mouth with a ragged handkerchief. He watched the fire for a while, until the dance of flames grew repetitive. He could already tell after many years of insomnia that this would be another sleepless night. \n\nHe sighed and picked up a piece of scrap wood that wasn't used for the fire. Digging a small knife out of his bag, he began to work at the wood, still whistling the tune subconsciously. He kept carving, and he looked up at the fire every now and then as the licking tongues of fire began to take shape on the wood. Carving helped him calm down, and he just wanted something to do tonight."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nBeatrice counted her blessings as she stood behind the tree. *Will he see me if I leave* She wanted to scream at the idea, and sat down in front of the tree. Loud crunches could be heard as she sat down and chewed her lower lip, a small frown on her face. Memories of her old master flashed through her mind.\n\nGently, she rubbed her hands together as she imagined a man going to her threateningly, and forcing himself onto her. A lone tear strayed down the woman's cheek as she thought of ways to leave the man. With nightfall approaching, it would be hard to navigate through the forest and she would have trouble finding her pond. \"The blessings.\" Beatrice once again managed to remind herself."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph heard something in the woods, and he dropped his knife in surprise. He reached for his crossbow... But after a while he didn't hear anything. He shrugged and went back to carving. The fire was taking shape even more now, and it looked like one of his best pieces recently. It wasn't great because Joseph was relatively out of practice, and it was a bad piece of wood to begin with, but it was pretty good carving."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nBeatrice was too held up in her own world as she whispered to herself repeatedly. \"Remember your blessings. Life is good. You are alive.\" A soft shudder could be heard as she took a deep breath and looked up at the sound of steps. Hairs stood up on her arms as she stood up quickly. Quietly, she walked in the direction of the footsteps and nervously got ready for an attack that would be bound to happen. The man was out of sight.\n\nShe took a deep breath and walked beside the man's camp fire. Softly, she sat beside the camp fire and listened to the footsteps around them. A yawn escaped her lips as she looked about his set up. Perhaps, he wouldn't come back."
}
] | 186 | 1,464 |
160.909091 | 2019-04-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph eventually found the river that he remembered was nearby and he stooped to fill his pot with the water. Once he filled it a decent amount, he washed his hands of the feathers and grease that was on his hands in the river. He'd boil the water so it'd be safe to drink.\n\nJoseph picked up the pot, pretty heavy now with the water, and began to stumble back to camp. He pushed aside some trees and entered the camp. The big man blinked in slight surprise as he saw a silhouette by the fire and cursed himself for leaving his crossbow with them. He froze on the edge of the tree line."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel \nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nBeatrice sighed at the peacefulness of his setup. It was away from all villages, similar to her home. Innocently, she crept along his supplies and gently took a look at his crossbow. It was scary. A weapon. Made for killing. She sighed and closed her eyes.\n\nAll humans, even herself, were capable of murdering and lying. Beatrice's index finger lingered on the crossbow as she inhaled deeply. \"My dear.\" She whispered softly and turned to go back to her home. The pond. As she fully turned, her eyes fell upon the man that had left his things. Staring at her. \"Oh, dear.\" Beatrice softly whispered as she backed away."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph quickly realized that he was not the one in danger, and she thought *She* Was. Why was she at his camp? Who knows... But he meant her no harm. The lumberjack opened his hands and put them facing away from him to show he had no weapons, he wasn't a threat.\n\n\"Hello,\" The man said, voice cracking from disuse. \"Don't worry... I'm not going to hurt you.\" He took one small step forward out of the forest so she could see him better. To be fair, he didn't look the most unthreatening in the world, with a giant frame and bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep. However, you could sort of tell from his voice and mannerisms that he was a good sort."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel \nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nBeatrice took the man's appearance in as her long brown waves fell to her waist. She honestly had no trouble sleeping, due to the fact she had been at it for two years. After all of her time spent in the ponds and lakes, she had managed to find that the grass in clearings were comfortable enough to be her bed. \n\nBeatrice's hair fell in front of her face as her head moved in the direction of the crossbow. He'd shoot her if he came closer. As the man walked towards her, the young woman dropped to the floor and grabbed the weapon into her arms. With the arrow pointed towards the sky and her eyes squeezed shut, Beatrice took a deep breath. \"I will shoot if I feel threatened.\" The young woman looked ridiculous sitting in the forest floor."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nBy the gods! Maybe she was dangerous... But he's not sure if it looked like she could shoot that well. Still, he erred on the side of caution and took another step back.\n\n\"Alright, I believe you. I won't come any closer.\" Joseph kept his hands in front of him as he stood still. \"I already told you I don't want to hurt you.\" He looked towards the crossbow. \"Now, don't shoot. I'm just setting down my axe.\" \n\nHe carefully moved towards his belt, very very slowly, and then undid the catch on his axe, before letting it fall to the ground. \"See?\" He kicked the axe behind him."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nBeatrice gently placed the crossbow in front of her as she stared at the man. He didn't seem like much of a threat. But no one really does. It only takes one stab to the back to murder. \n\n\"You better! I've been training for years!\" Beatrice lied and held her breath as she sat in front of the fire. Perhaps it was time for her to have come across someone who wasn't a figment of her imagination. \n\nBeatrice slowly stood up and allowed her long, white, dress to flow to her ankles. The cuts and bruises along her skin contrasted with her pale skin as she carefully walked towards the man. \"Don't move.\" She warned as she bent down and picked an arrow up."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nAdrenaline was pumping through Joseph's veins and it took all his self-control to stay still as the scarred girl walked towards him with the sharpened flint arrow. He swallowed a little, but he knew he could overpower her if anything bad happened. Would it trigger a seizure? Who knows. \n\n\"Sure,\" He said evenly. Should he really have thrown his axe away? We'll see, I suppose."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nIt wasn't fair. She was the predator and she had preached about the feeling of lack of control, blaming her master. Why wasn't she in control now? She held the man's life in her hands for Christ's sake. A gentle breeze ran through her hair as she looked down at the arrow. Would he want to be an ally? \n\nGently, she placed it beside his axe and straightened up. Her eyes made way to his and she forced herself to look him into his eyes. \"No advances.\" She noted aloud and walked back to the fire. \"How odd. Men advance.\" She clicked her tongue and sat back down for warmth. \"You may come.\" One thing was certain, she had a quirky personality."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph blinked slightly. \"Advances?\" He said blankly. His eyes widened in understanding. \"Oh.\" He smiled a little. \"Of course not.\" The big man nodded when she said he could come closer and he sat back down at the campfire that was recently his. \n\nHe said nothing as he picked up his carving knife and his carving and began to continue his work in silence, waiting for her to say something. She would have gone away if she wanted to be alone, or maybe she wanted some food. Well the bird was all he had. Who knows."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel \nThe Forests of Ibethiel \n\nThe wind picked up slightly, causing the fire to rage on to a new light. Beatrice felt her arms slump as she pulled her frail knees to her chest. It was almost as if she looked malnourished for a woman of the time. But she simply had the weight of a good health. Well, maybe just below.\n\nBeatrice watched the man as he carved with his knife. He could be doing that to her at the moment, but he was simply sitting. \"Why are you alone?\" Her demand for answers was sudden, but she doubted it's surprise factor. She watched him for any sign emotion."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\n\"Why am I alone?\" He repeated in confusion. He smiled wryly. \"I'm out of a job. Looking for employment. Traveling around, seeing what there is to see.\" He didn't mention his old wife. The wound was too fresh, too new.\n\nAs he thought of her, the knife sunk in just a little too deep into the carving and he sighed in disgust as the fire had a deep divot in it. He threw away the piece of fire wood and now that he was out of wood, his calloused hands drummed and moved incessantly on his knees. The carving seemed to almost be a coping mechanism for when he was stressed."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel \n\nBeatrice listened; She was all ears for whatever he would say. The fire cackled as they spoke to one another. There was something comforting about the fact that someone else had come out to live in the forest due to lack of a job. \n\n\"Jobs aren't too hard to find, are they?\" She pressed and made sure her dress covered her legs completely. She'd been fairly reserved, since the incident. Nothing had changed. Two years later and she held the wound, almost like a cut in need of stitching. She simply turned her head to stare at him as she waited for an answer. \"Unless you're not a kind man.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph grimaced. \"They're not hard to find for an educated.\" He chuckled softly. \"Hell, I don't even know how to read... There isn't much demand for people like me, and I'm too unstable with money to start a business. Not to mention, I wouldn't have a goddamn clue.\" \n\nHe thought for a minute. \"I don't know if I'm kind, but I'm not a killer. Mercenary work doesn't suit me.\" He clamped his mouth shut somewhat abruptly. He hadn't really opened up to anyone in a while. But here he was, trading small talk with a girl who could have killed him. The world is strange."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel \n\nBeatrice smiled as the man spoke, finding everything he said to be soothing and remindful of her home. Softly, she hummed once he had quit talking and stared at the fire. \"I apologise. For trying to kill you.\" She whispered and held her hands together. \n\n\"But you must understand. The men that come through have been savages.\" She turned her head to look him into his eyes. \"I in no way consider myself to be a killer of any sorts.\" She muttered seriously. The young woman was wise beyond her years, to which was obvious. But she couldn't trust stragglers, especially men."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph shrugged it off casually. \"I'd have done the same. Don't worry.\" His adrenaline was still rushing though, and he wasn't quite sure if he could trust her. He was leaning towards yes? \n\n\"And yes, I understand.\" Probably some first hand experience. He was tempted to ask, but that's personal. \"Good to know on the killer part as well. With all luck, I won't find a dagger in my back in the morning.\" The man's words were serious, but his tone made it clear he was joking around. \"How'd you get here?\" His bloodshot eyes met hers curiously."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel \n\n\"A man I worked for sealed my fate.\" Beatrice felt her eyes grow cold as she stared at the man sitting beside her. \"He revealed things about my mother, things you wouldn't believe.\" A shudder coursed through her body at the mere thought. \n\n\"He took advantage of my nude state.\" Beatrice muttered and looked away from him feeling the dirtiness of the betrayal, almost like it was dirt on her skin that needed to be scrubbed away. \"I bathed. He came onto me. But no. No one would believe the maid. I was no longer of use. I vowed to never be a maid again. It's no more than a slave.\" Beatrice spat out the last sentence and stared into the fire. Men couldn't be trusted. But if that was true, why did she feel somewhat safe with this one in her presence. \n\n\"My name is Beatrice.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph stared into the fire and his hands stopped twitching for a second. He looked down at his hands in awkwardness, then back up at her. \"I'm sorry... I'm not going to pretend I know how that feels, but I appreciate the fact that you trust me enough to... Share.\" \n\nHe almost felt ashamed. He had gone on about how hard his life was, but she had it so much worse. *My wife left me for another,* He thought, *And I thought that was awful, but she was assaulted. No wonder she's so frightened.*\n\nHe paused for a second after he had spoken, not sure what to say next. \"Joseph.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nShe hadn't even mentioned going to an orphanage and handing her sister over, getting the looks and the hatred from the nuns. Supposedly, a mother should never leave their child. If only they'd known the circumstances. Beatrice would never have left her sister or posed as a mother.\n\n\"It's okay. I have many blessings.\" She muttered and smiled as she picked up a stick and broke it into pieces. As the stick was tossed into the fire, she imagined burning her problems as she did to the stick. Her master's house going up into flames. Though she would never do such a thing to a family. \n\nEspecially when her parents worked for them. \"Please, do not pity.\" She hated that she had to ask that, but felt as if it were necessary."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\n\"Alright, if you say so.\" He kept staring into the fire. Tough topic to move on from, but he took out a small spare piece of wood that was an ongoing project. It was a picture of his wife, hair blowing in the wind. He had already finished the rough outlines and now needed to add the details.\n\nHe was painstaking whenever he made a cut, all his attention focused on his shaking hands which had been that way since the attacks. He needed this to be perfect. He didn't know why. Maybe if he showed her this one day, she'd come back to him once she saw how much he loved her. \n\nThe silence was a deafening sort, broken only by crickets and wolves. Joseph needed to fill it. \"So... What do you do around here?\" He winced uncomfortably. Real smooth, Joseph. Nice topic change from literal sexual assault. \"Sorry, sorry,\" He muttered after a couple seconds."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nBeatrice pondered his question. What did she really do? Nothing that seemed interesting enough to talk about. Maybe the man was just curious? ... Or maybe he wanted intel on her daily life. Beatrice sat silently and took a deep breath. She wanted to tell him something, rather than leaving him hanging?\n\n\"I normally walk the waters. Search for a place to call home other than the forest. It gets quite lonely out here some days.\" Beatrice sighed and tilted her heads. \"Sometimes I swim in the pond, in search of fish. They have fairly large ones.\" A smile made way onto her face. \n\n\"But I certainly don't have enough talent to do that.\" Beatrice peered over his shoulder, her interest sparking. A small smile made way onto her face and she moved back to her seat. \"Who was it?\" She wondered aloud as she stared at him, not expecting an answer."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\n\"My wife,\" He said, a little bit uncomfortably. \"Well, used to be, I guess. She... She left,\" He shrugged. He changed the topic. \"Yes, I can see the trees getting a little repetitive. A town would be nice.\" \n\nHe looked around at the wilderness but shot the trees a glance with his eyes almost saying he didn't mean it. Joseph loved the trees, because of his job, his hobby, and the simple beauty of them. His grandfather was always teaching him about nature when he was a young lad, pointing out the birds and plants, and the love stuck with him through his life."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel\nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\n\"My master once said that no love is pure.\" She whispered and sighed deeply. \"We're all bound to be left behind. By death, or by something worse. Though, what could be worse?\" Beatrice shook her head and stared at the pit.\n\n\"I hate the useless lies of love that I've been fed.\" She whispered. Longing to have something as pure. Yet, it wasn't in her cards and the odds were stacked against her. As the man made is comment about the trees, Beatrice smiled. \"But you seem to be in love with the forest.\" She'd observed him, and he seemed to be very comfortable."
}
] | 157.5 | 3,540 |
142.666667 | 2019-04-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\n\"The trees are here for everyone. They always listen when nobody else does.\" Joseph said, not really thinking about the consequences of what he said, whether she thought him crazy or not. \n\nHe sat still for a while, thinking. He finally asked, too curious. \"Your blessing? What do you mean?\" He leaned in close to the fire. The chill of the night was here, and the fire provided the last bastion against the darkness."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Beatrice Ashdown, Ibethiel \nThe Forests of Ibethiel\n\nBeatrice nodded in understanding and smiled. Trees. Something they were bonding over. Some may call it odd. Beatrice listened to the roaring and cackling of the fire with a soft smile on her face. \n\nBeatrice looked down at her lap as the man proceeded to ask what she meant. Truth be told, she didn't exactly feel comfortable telling the full truth. \"I don't have any friends out her, so they have been a lovely substitute.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard, Ibethiel**\n**The Forests of Ibethiel**\n\n\"Mm. They're not the best, since it's a pretty one-sided conversation.\" He chuckled. He started carving the hair on the portrait into finer detail as well. It was hard in the low lighting, and there was a long pause while he was just working. \n\n\"I'm going to be straight with you.\" He said quite slowly. \"I'm an insomniac, and I can already tell I'm not sleeping tonight. It's getting late, and if you don't feel comfortable either talking to me for hours or sleeping here after... What you've been through, I get it. Just letting you know so you don't think it's awkward.\"\n\nHe kind of hope she stayed for a while, just to talk, because he hadn't talked to someone else in months... The last time was when that physician helped him in the Witherlands. But his conscious demanded it of him to at least let her know."
}
] | 111 | 428 |
191.515152 | 2019-05-31 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby and Queen Lucrezia Scheer\nMeeting Room, Ibethiel Castle**\n\nDennon arrived a few minutes late to the meeting. He would have preferred to not show up at all, but he wanted to give the impression of trying. The door of the council's meeting room was closed with a guard posted outside. \"Oh, has it started already? I'll just ask for notes later.\"\n\n\"No. Just waiting on you.\" The guard opened the door with a speed that made Dennon think the guard knew he'd try to get out of it.\n\n\"Dennon, you made it.\" Lucrezia sat at the far end of the table facing him.\n\n\"Good afternoon.\" Dennon said, sitting down at the closest end opposite the queen. The table had five seats on each of the long sides. Nine were filled. One next to Lucrezia was empty. Next to the queen sat what appeared to be a small nightstand holding something with a pointy top which was covered by a cloth. \n\n\"I think we can now begin.\" Lucrezia said just as the door opened again. Dennon turned around and saw the man Lucrezia had attacked earlier, now with a bandage over the injured area. \"Nigel, how is your eye?\"\n\n\"Never been better, my queen.\" The council minister said with his gaze focused on the floor.\n\n\"That's nice to hear.\" She said sweetly. \n\n\"I didn't know the meeting would start this early.\" He said.\n\n\"I moved up the time.\" She told him coldly. The council lord walked around the table toward the last open seat next to the queen. She watched him and said nothing until he put his hands on the back of the chair to pull it out. \"What are you doing?\" She asked in an irritated tone.\n\n\"Taking my seat.\" The lord of the council said.\n\n\"That seat is where the Minister of War sits.\" Lucrezia informed him.\n\n\"But I am the Minister of—\"\n\n\"No, you're not! Not anymore.\" She said loudly to drown him out.\n\n\"My house has served with honor.\" The lord said indignantly.\n\n\"One hundred fifty-seven swords missing from the armory.\" Lucrezia stood up from her chair. \"Two hundred thirty-six soldiers injured and four dead in a training exercise that was by your design. Their blood is on your hands. I could go on with the list of ways that you have supposedly 'honored' me, but the one I find most insulting personally was the thirteen bastards for which you've funneled so much of my money into the pockets of their mothers. Though the worst part wasn't just that you were stealing from me. The worst part was that if you weren't such an incompetent buffoon, you could have easily known that most of them weren't even yours. A year long pregnancy, really?!\" \n\nThe former Minister of War glared in Dennon's direction. \"You son of a bitch.\" \n\n\"Do not blame Lord Serris.\" Lucrezia commanded. Dennon realized Lord Nigel was talking to the man on his immediate left at the table. \"I have my own resources outside the perview of the Minister of Spies.\"\n\n\"Firing me will be the biggest mistake of your very short reign.\" The lord declared defiantly.\n\n\"Nigel. Dear, sweet Nigel. I'm not firing you.\" Lucrezia responded.\n\n\"You're not?\" The lord asked, puzzeled.\n\n\"No. You're being reassigned.\" Lucrezia put her hand to the stand next to her chair and removed the cloth. While Nigel looked to what was being uncovered, Lucrezia reached with her other hand and tore off the lord's hair piece. \"I always hated that thing on your fat, balding head.\" She said, tossing it aside. \"Your re-assignment is this. Instead of Minister of War, Lord Nigel Redlin you shall now be known as the Minister of Dunces.\" She picked up the object that was covered on the stand and planted it firmly on the lord's head. It appeared to be a white pointy hat.\n\n\"What is this?\" The lord asked, shaken by what had just transpired. He began to pull at the hat, but it wouldn't come off.\n\n\"Minister of Dunces is a full-time job. I took the liberty of giving the uniform an adhesive so that it didn't accidentally fall off.\" Lucrezia's anger at what Nigel had done had been replaced by a gleeful smile brought on by inflicting the punishment for it.\n\n\"Ah!\" The lord attempted to rip off the hat in one hard tug but caused only pain and no progress. Lucrezia giggled and wheezed. Everyone else was trying to avoid watching.\n\n\"Now sit down and shut up before I take your other eye.\" The fool reached for the Minister of War chair again. \"NOT THERE!\" She screeched.\n\n\"There's no where else!\" The lord said, now sobbing.\n\n\"Sit on the floor, away from me by the wall.\" She brushed him aside. \"If you're good, maybe next time I'll get you a footstool to sit on.\" She added as the lord slowly went to the cold stone floor. Master of Spies, I'm sorry that your honor was questioned, but since I'm talking to you why don't you get the meeting started with anything you've learned since the last council meeting.\" Lucrezia segued from that horrific display back to the meeting like it was nothing.\n\n\"Yes, my queen.\" Master of Spies Lord Serris Volan stood and cleared his throat. He was older with a white beard that did a lot to help mask the discomfort felt by everyone present. Dennon didn't hear a lot of what came after that. For some time, he stared at the newly appointed Minister of Dunces, now humiliated and left without a shred of dignity. \"Finally, it does indeed appear that our operation in North Feyshore has been compromised.\" This caught the king's attention. \"The prime target was killed in his home along with his bodyguard. Other inside sources claim that it was our operative who did it, and she escaped with two accomplices. She was in deep cover there for two years. I don't know why she would do this. Unfortunately, we cannot conduct a more in-depth search without risking exposure. We may never know what happened unless she finds her way back on her own.\" A lump formed in Dennon's throat. He wasn't sure, but when Dennon had sent royal antiquities dealer, Kirk Pinewood, on an artifact recovery quest a month earlier, he had told him to find an old spy friend of his in North Feyshore if he needed anything. If this was Kirk's doing, he worried about the possibility for either of them making it back alive.\n\n\"If that is all, Dennon, tell us about the results of your little trip.\" Lucrezia said, quickly moving along.\n\n\"Uh...\" Dennon stood up. His knees felt like rubber. \"The funny thing is...\" He briefly glanced at Nigel but held the look when he saw the disgraced lord's face. The expression of despair had morphed into one of terrifying wrath. Lucrezia noticed that Dennon was distracted and followed his gaze, cracking a grin before standing up. The lord began to climb to his feet as he glared at the queen.\n\n\"Look, everyone. The Minister of Dunces would like to bless us with a silly dance.\" The queen moved around the seated men so that the table was between her and no-longer-sweet Nigel. He growled like an animal before running at the table and clumsily jumping onto it, landing on his stomach. Some of the lords reached out to grab him as members of the Queensguard poured into the room.\n\n\"You shouldn't be queen! You'll be the death of us all!\" The lord screamed at the giggling queen who made her way to Dennon's end of the table, where he remained unseated from starting his report. She stood behind him, looking intently over his shoulder and gripping him tightly. \"You're letting her get away with it! Nothing will be left standing. She'll destroy everything!\" The lord continued to scream at them in anguish as he was dragged toward the door. For a moment, he partially broke away and grabbed onto the nearest table leg in a last-ditch effort to stay. \"Dennon, please. You're a good man. Don't let them take me.\" The table started to slide, and one of the guards stomped his foot down on Nigel's arm, which went limp with the sound of a sickening crack. \"Please, Dennon! Please!\" He pitifully begged in desperation as his beaten body was dragged to the door. \"DON'T LET ME DIE LIKE THE CARBONELLS!\" The door slammed shut.\n\n\"Thank you for protecting me, Dennon.\" Lucrezia whispered into his ear as he began to shake uncontrollably. \"I knew I picked the right king.\" She let go of him and moved to address the table, which allowed Dennon to all but collapse into his seat. \"I'll be back in a moment. Just want to make sure things have been handled.\" She opened the door and slipped out. Dennon spent a few minutes trying to control his breathing. If it hadn't been so long since he'd eaten, he would have thrown up. One of the remaining ministers at the far end of the table was in a similar situation but did not have the luxury of an empty stomach. The king eventually remembered the possible news about Kirk's quest.\n\n\"Lord Serris.\" The Minister of Spies looked back at him but said nothing aloud. \"The spy in North Feyshore. Is it...?\"\n\n\"Yes. It's Verina.\" Serris responded.\n\n\"Is there anything you know that you didn't mention earlier?\" Dennon asked.\n\n\"She left with two men on a carriage. They were pursued into Audeamus Forest.\" Serris's words made Dennon's heart sink.\n\n\"Oh...\"\n\n\"As I said before, it's up to her if she's going to make it back here alive. But Dennon, about the queen...\" \n\n\"What do I do?\" Dennon asked.\n\n\"You could put an heir in her belly already. That seems like the most enjoyable solution at least for you at this point.\" \n\n\"It's not that simple.\" Dennon said, frustrated.\n\n\"Not that simple?! Just stick your willy in—\" \n\n\"That's not what I meant.\" Dennon held up his hand.\n\n\"Look, I know you're a shitblood, and that isn't ideal, but at least you're not a Scheer.\" Serris shook his tired, old head. \"I don't think I can take much more of these crazy fucking inbreds on the throne.\"\n\n. . .\n\nLucrezia eventually returned, and the opening door made everyone jump. She stood next to Dennon's chair and rubbed his shoulder with one hand. \"Thank you all for your patience.\" Dennon glanced at the queen's dress and saw what looked like a small spatter of blood on it. He tensed up, trying to subtely and slowly lean away. She walked to the empty chair for the Minister of War. \"We can end the council early today. Keep in mind though that a new Minister of War needs to be found.\" She flashed a bright grin. \"Send any interested applicants my way.\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "**Damien Alsastar, far out in ibethian territory, in his forge.**\n\nAsh and sparks flew as he burned the handle of the shortsword, giving the wood a blackened torched look. Damien covered the finished handle in beeswax, making it shiny. He looked over the blade, it was flexable, but still sharp enough to slice paper, a great finish. He worried for his mother, who was quaking at her knees, and who's dementia was gripping her mind. His days had recently been a haze of working in the forge and caring for her, and the fear he felt for losing her had faded into daily work.\n\nDamien set the sword on the anvil and left the forge, breathing in the cool morning air of trees and the fiery smell that clung to his clothes. He brushed a hand through his red hair and shook out the remaining metal dust. He made his way inside, the house leaving his belt of tools on the rack outside the door. \n\nHe cooked up some basic soup, carrots and potatoes, seasoned only by garlic and hot water. It had been years since his mother made him a good stew, especially since she was left to break away in her chair. He lifted her from under her arms and carefully walked her to the table, carefully sweeping himself under the deadly, low hanging doorway. He sat her down at the table and began to eat, looking out the window at the finished lance out in the forge, smiling a solemn grin as he ate."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "**Gilles de Rais and Joan of Arc, road towards ibethiel near a trading post**\n\nThe caravan continued to advance towards the city, the young girl had fallen asleep on the Knights lap as she wasn't accustomed to boats so she couldn't rest properly while there. The Knight focused on directing the city, not daring to touch the girl since he will have to focus his attention on the girl rather than the road. Some few drops of water struck the Black Knight, making him stop the carriage in order to put the girl inside the caravan so that she would remain both warm and dry. He scooped her on his arms before walking towards the caravan and opening the door, he gently laid her on her bed before tucking her in. The Black Knight smiled before laying a hand on her cheek and caressing her cheek with his thumb before turning around and locking the door after he left the room.\n\nHe walked back to the horses, not caring about the rain pouring down unto him and the horses as they continued to drive towards the city. The Black Knight had a task to accomplish, and this rain isn't going to stop him from getting there before the day ends\n\nGilles continued to move towards the city before he heard a faint screech come from his armour. It seemed that the sea has managed to do some light damage to his armour, making it rust a little thanks to the salt and the high humidity. The Black Knight grunted before he started to slowly move his gaze, trying to find either a general store where he would buy the supplies in order for him to clean his armour or a smithy where the smith would do it for him in exchange of some gold.\n\nAs luck would have it, it seemed that there is a smithy not that far away from where he and Joan are. The Black Knight grunted again before changing their course a little so that his armour wouldn't fall victim to rust.\n\nLess than five minutes passed before he reached the smithy, only for the door of the caravan to open as Joan unlocked it from the inside. The young girl rubbed her eye as she stared tiredly at her Black Knight\n\n\"Are we stopping for supplies, Gilles?\" She asked as she tried to regain her senses from her slumber\n\n\"We are, your majesty\" The Black Knight replied before offering his hand so that she could walk down the small set of stairs of the caravan\n\n\"Then I suppose I should see if this smithy can help us maintain our equipment in tip top condition\" Joan answered as she yawned a little\n\n\"Very well, your majesty\" The Black Knight responded as he guided her towards the door of the smithy before knocking on it using his knuckles"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "**Damien Alaster, at his home**\n\nThe door was nearly 8 feet tall, leading Gilles to wonder if that was a design decision, or if a giant lived in the small home. The first thing thing heard was the croak of some elderly woman, yelling for someone named Dean. A gruff voice inside informed the other that his name was Damien and loud footsteps made thier way to the door. The door swung open quickly and the man inside seemed annoyed as he opened the door. The man stood over 7 feet tall, explaining the door, and his chest was covered in burns and cuts from years of forging. His hair was a deep red, and his voice was a deep gruff bark,* \n\n\"I told you Adam I'm not giving you any more ale, now go away you tavern dru- Oh...\" \n\nHe stopped realizing that these were customers, not a stupid neighbor, and judging by dress and weapons, these were no small farmers. He grabbed his belt of tools from the rack by the door, putting it on, \n\n\"Sorry, we have had some rascals waking my mother recently, I am Damien, the master of this forge.\" \n\nHe went to shake Joan's hand, before realizing his hand was far too large and turned his hand shake towards Gilles."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "Joan, barely reaching Damiens' hip, looked odd being near a huge man like the Black Knight standing right behind her. The Black Knight stared at him with a glare, but thanks to his helmet, it would be almost impossible for Damien to see him glaring to begin with.\n\n\"Now now Gilles, he's being friendly, no need to be rude towards the man\" The young girl said as she stared at her Black Knight who simply grunted in response before gripping Damiens hand in order to squeeze it tightly, as if he wanted to break the bones in his hand\n\n\" My good sir, my Black Knight and I would like to pay for your services so that our equipment is in good condition so that we can reach Ibethiel in time\"\n\nEven when Joan is talking, the pressure on Gilles handshake increased, taking advantage of the metal armour he's wearing to increase the force behind his grip"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Damien simply shook back, as his hands were so large that the metal tension simply felt like a normal handshake. He pulled out of the the shake and stood back looking over the two,\n\"Sounds great...\" \nHe circled around Gilles, noticing the warps in the plates and the skid marks underneath his arms, that would rust if not treated. As Gilles angrily turned his head to look at Joan, he also caught the bending in his neck armor. Damien guessed either cold or water damage, and he may need to grind off some metal.\n\"I'd love to assist you two, come join me in my forge.\" \nHe said, leading them across his yard to the medium sized stone structure. He made sure to keep Gilles at his side, trying to make sure Gilles was always in sight, as he seemed to be a threatening figure."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"Be a dear and remove your armour for me Gilles\" Joan stared at her Black Knight before smiling at him. The Knight bowed his head towards the girl before starting to undo the leather straps that kept his armour attached and in one piece.\n\nA very pale face with green eyes and black hair appears after Gilles removes his helmet. His face has many sharp features as he stared at the smithy with glaring eyes\n\n\"You should learn to be more polite Gilles\" Joan said before her Black Knight stared at her before smiling \"I owe my loyalty and fealty to you and your family, your Majesty\" Gilles said before he started to remove the straps on his arms and legs\n\n\"Then I command you to be more friendly towards those who are not our enemies\" Joan replied, making Gilles laugh in good humor \"Very well said your Majesty\" Gilles smiled in earnest towards Damien\n\n\"I apologise for my behaviour, but I am not as trusting as Lady Joan\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Damien quietly listened to thier conversation with a smile as he heated his forge and prepared the anvil. He polished the horn of the anvil making sure he could bend the plates around it later on. He set his file down, and looked to the two,\n\n\"Ready?\""
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"Before anything happens, how much do you assume this will cost us, my good sir?\" Joan asked as she grabbed a chair before sitting on it \"I would like to know how much this is going to cost us as well as how much you value your craft\"\n\nGilles removed the rest of his armour, revealing a leather armour underneath it. He started to hand the armour towards the smith, paying very close attention towards all parts of his armour as the smith helps them fix it"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"Well considering you arent making me use materials, a simple cost of repair should do unless something particularly bad has happened to your armor. So... 50 currency?\"\n\nHe takes the shoulder plate first, looking it over. He will need to file off the rusting metal and then re bend the plate back to its former shape. He cant file off too much without making the plate weak, so he will have to be careful."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"Depending on how well this repair is done, I might pay you even more if your craft is of a good quality my good sir\" Joan seemed to use those three words over and over like a broken record.\n\nGilles on the other hand seemed happy to see his beloved Joan interact with others outside of her mothers ever watching eye\n\n\"We've met many a smith that charge preposterous amounts of gold only for their quality services leave a lot to desire as well as many a smith that charge very little while the quality of their services be of a very high quality\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"Well young madam, I would respect the latter, as those charging little for good craft respect thier work more then respect the money they earn.\"\nHe answers as he begins to finely grate on to the file, and small wraps began to form in the plate as he shaved off the rusting material. The huge man suddenly quickly moved, putting the plate into the hot forge. He out hot coals atop the plate, before checking it's color, waiting for that freckled rosy orange. He heated the warped part and quickly spun again, setting it on the horn of the anvil. He drew a hammer and began to bend the plate back into shape around the horn, black flecks of burnt coal falling of the metal and charring the metal back to it's fine shade of black. He finished the plate and continued the process onto the neck pieces, making them all pure black and curved correctly, without rust. He watched Gilles as he worked, making sure the knight wasnt upset with the work as he went."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "The Black Knight remained still, his face not changing as Damien worked on his armour.\n\nJoan started to tug on Gilles leather armour gaining his attention before he kneeled down. She started to whisper something to Gilles before the Black Knight just nodded his head.\n\nThe Black Knight started to wonder around, looking at the one handed weapons as the girl remained sitting on the chair\n\n\"May I ask you a question, my good sir?\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "He finished rounding of the corner of a piece of neck armor and turned to Gilles,\n\"Yes sir?\" \nHe said, setting his hammer down and grabbing Gilles' other shoulder plate, beginning to file the rust off."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"Would you mind checking for any rust on my blade as well?\" Gilles asked as he grabbed his serrated blade from its holster before putting it near his armor that hasn't been polished\n\n\"As well as give me your personal opinion on my blade as a smithy, if you don't mind that is\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"I shall in a moment.\" \nHe answers calmly. After a few more pieces of armor are finished getting repaired, and he set the pieces together, checking if they are mended, he turns to the blade. He begins to inspect the bevel and serrated pieces, making sure the edgeisnt rounded or dented, checking for cracks and blemishes as well.\n\nDamien reviews the final shape of the blade assessing it.\n\"Well, there doesnt appear to be much damage, as its sheath apparently spared it of rust damage, but it does seem to be a bit dulled from long years of valiant combat!\" \n\nHe says dramatically, bumping Gilles jokingly with his elbow,\n\"But, as for my personal opinion, it is a bit wide and breakable at certain parts... But those wide bits of blade could supply a good chop. The tip is a perfect point, the smith that made this clearly understood how to make a stabbing sword, and the wide curved blade parts are probably just an aesthetic design... A good blade. However, in case of a break, it is always nice to have a secondary sword, and I have a many blades for sale, even some lighter weapons for the miss if she would like one.\"\n\nHe smiled a flashy smile, but the smile showed more of a good pride for his work more then someone blatantly trying to sell you something. He went to go grab a soapstone to resharpen the blade."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"What do you say, your Majesty?\" Gilles asked as the young girl had fallen asleep on the chair, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Gilles, noticing this, smiled at the young girl before scooping her up again in his arms before staring at Damien\n\n\"Would you mind if I go and tuck her Majesty in her bed?\" The Black Knight asked, wanting to make sure that Joan rested well enough since she is still a growing child"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"Go on ahead.\" \nThe large man nods, and looks a little silly as he politely leans over the anvil, working quickly yet lightly on the blade. He bolts the handle pieces together quietly, still sharpening a beautiful silvery edge onto his blade."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"Thank you\" Gilles replied before walking towards the door of the smith shop, opening it with care so that he wouldn't wake Joan up, who began to suck on her thumb as she curled up on his arms. He walked towards the caravan in order to silently open the door so that he can tuck her again in her bed.\n\nAfter doing so, he blew off the candle in the room and proceeded to close the door before locking it again. He walked towards the smith before grabbing a rather hefty sack of gold coins\n\n\"Her Majesty needs a small blade capable of piercing even the strongest of leather armours, while I will need the heaviest sword you have for sale\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Damien leads his to the tracks of daggers, pulling a few stilettos and a short rapier from the wall. As Gilles surveys and pick the second one Damien has set out two swords on the table. One was gold and fine finished, the other longer and darker, but much lighter and less sharp then the pristine gold blade.\n\n\"I see you have chosen a stiletto which of these greatsword interests you?\""
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"I believe have an idea of what great-sword I would like\" Gilles said as he grabbed a rather heavy two handed sword with relative ease\n\n\"This is almost as heavy as my blade, so it will be a perfect fit for me\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"Lucky for you that one is for sale, although it is pretty old. I can resharpen it for you if you like while you present the shortsword to the miss?\" \nDamien says, also handing Gilles his original armor and sword, both of which now looked pricelessly cleaned off and remade, a beautiful sheen coming off of both."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"I would appreciate if you could resharpen it as well\" Gilles laid the hefty sack on the table, spilling several golden coins on it without them falling to the floor\n\n\"I believe that this will be sufficient pay for any and all services rendered\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "The smith nodded to him, grinning, before pulling a large, long burlap sack off the wall, putting the new stiletto knife inside and preparing to sharpen the blade. He turned and took up his soapstone."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"Tell me something, how many years have you been a smith?\" Gilles asked as he started to strap his armour back on, making sure that it was secured and tightened where he needed it to be\n\n\"For someone to forge such weapons, you must have many years under your belt\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"26 years, since I was the young age of 8. And... I guess it's a family thing, many generations of my family has been Smith's, and so I guess the interest has passed down through blood and steel.\" \nHe laughs softly as he draws the long blade over the soap stone, and Gilles watches as the blades edge shines and thins to a precise ridge, so thin the eye cant even truly see the edge."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"May I ask you something personal?\" Gilles said as he admired how this man worked with the blade he had chosen as a secondary weapon"
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Damien checked the edge of the blade as he finished it, looking up and down the edge,\n\"Sure.\" \nHe says quietly, slowly running the blades spine into a vice so he could use a slant grinder, running it over the entire blade."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"My Master has always been looking for smiths of your calibre in order to supply the soldiers that he is always training, if you're interested in serving someone and gaining both never ending work as well as a constant supply of coin, I would like to offer you the opportunity of serving the Arc House as one of their private smithy\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "Damien stops sharpening the blade, going silent for a moment as he thinks. His dream is to forge for great lords and kings, but he has duties here. And he knows this.\n\"I am unsure. I would love to, but I must stay for my mother, as she is old and loves this home, as it is one of the only thing she remembers. I have to care for her, but if... *When* The day comes that I no longer have that responsibility, I make think of your offer knight. As for now...\" \n\nHe swings up the now sharp blade looking vertically down the blade. Seeing it is sharp he cuts at the air loosely a bit, and after deciding that the blade is well made, he puts it in a fine leather and gold sheath, puts it in the burlap sack and hands the bag to Gilles."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "\"Wiser words couldn't have been said\" Gilles admitted as he patted the smithy on his shoulder. He whistled in surprise as he saw the quality of the blade he has bought from him\n\n\"This is indeed a blade worthy of a Black Knight\" He admitted as he straps on his new blade before smiling at the smith\n\n\"In case you're wondering where my Mistress and I will be heading, go to Ibethiel and search for us, we aren't that difficult to track down\""
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "\"I shall do that if I need, knight. It has been great servicing you and the miss. Good travels.\"\n\nHe smiles, dipping his hand in water. Be washes the metal dust of his hands and holds his hand out for a final handshake of goodbye."
},
{
"author": "phlegyasthefurious",
"message": "Gilles smiles at the smithy shaking his hand before walking out of the smith shop and entering the caravan in order to make sure that Joan is still asleep."
}
] | 87 | 6,320 |
301.333333 | 2019-06-01 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "vit_anton",
"message": "Braillen van Moss \nCountryside Inn \"Drunken Jester\"\n\nBraillen would finally find an inn where he could eat and drink something. He left his horse in a small and damaged stable and walked inside. From the moment he entered he realized that there'd be trouble. A group of 4 heavyset men were causing trouble. Tripping chairs,slapping guests,stealing wine,singing loudly. But he'd ignore them and sit down. He ordered a fair meal and some strong red wine. As he rejoiced in the taste of his little feast he heard a scream of fear and distress. He saw the men assaulting a young woman,clearly trying to rape her. He looked with grim and stood up. Readying his sword he'd approach the men\n-\"Leave this woman alone,ruthless bastards!\" He'd explain with a serious look on his face\n-\"Make me,cunt!\" One man would answer as he pulled out an axe and the rest followed.\nBraillen took his sword into his hand and hit the fat bandit right in the neck. Killing him nearly instantly. Other bastards would start their play. He dodged their attacks until one,more muscular one would hit him in the chest with a rusty axe. It didn't do much damage and Braillen would respond with to slashes to the chest of the unarmored fighter. He fella on the floor causing the another bandit to trip,getting Braillen the opportunity to attack. He'd hit the tripped bandit in the back with all his might,nearly splitting the man in half. As the last surviving criminal saw it,he'd start running,but van Moss was quicker. He'd slash his leg and as the bandit was weeping,he'd dip his sword into the chest of the fool,killing him. After this was done,the traveler would gather his things,pay for the loot and exit saying\n-\"Sometimes you have to become a scum to beat scum\"\nHe rode away on horseback while sipping wine.\n\nHe would sleep in his saddle while contemplating the fact that he maybe should leave Ibethiel. As the horse stopped near a small lake Braillen would step down and have a quick wash of his hair and some shave. He'd sip strong wine and eat a piece of bread before leaving for further voyage."
},
{
"author": "Deleted User",
"message": "**Damien Alaster, His home**\n\nThe smith waves off the caravan, before receding into his home. He puts his mother to bed and puts out the house light."
},
{
"author": "jstkai",
"message": "**Synthreya,\nThe woods near the kingdom farms**\n\nSynthreya rested herself gently against a tree as she hid behind some bushes that blocked the view of the streets and walking areas around the farms and fields. She looked around to see if there were some farms that need some help as she usually did her daily tending to the needs of the poor. Some knights walked along the side of the farm walls and gates as they walked on the streets and talked amongst themselves. Synthreya smirked and took this to her advantage to start off her daily good deeds. She quickly turned around to a nearby berry bush that wasn't even fully grown yet. It was a new little bush that was about a few inches tall and wasn't even ready to sprout berries yet. Synthreya held out her hands as she faced her palms towards the bush and a green mist faded into existence around her arms. She quickly began to spread the mist around the berry bush as it responded from the exposure of her magic by growing to about 4 feet high and sprouting some lovely red berries. She gently placed her hand under a batch of berries and chuckled softly. \"Wild berries are always the best kind, how it brings back memories hehe\", she made a slight giggle as she thought of how she used to eat berries and enjoyed the view of the forests as she ate with the animals. \n\nSynthreya cupped her hands around the batch of berries and pulled them off the bush, allowing herself to have a berry or two as she walked back towards the streets. She looked towards the direction of where she last saw the knights and noticed that they stopped about 5 feet where they last were to lean against the wall of a farm and speak with each other. She could tell from the smiles and interest in each others conversation that they were friends and she couldn't help but smile."
}
] | 382 | 904 |
88 | 2019-06-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Forests of Ibethiel**\n*Joseph put out his campfire as night began to fall. He kept his crossbow close at hand. Now that Beatrice was gone, he was alone in the wilderness. Luckily, most of his seizures had abated, and he watched the embers die down as he got out his carving tools. He could tell tonight would be another sleepless night.*"
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Vanessa Ward\nForests of Ibethiel\n\nVanessa sat against a tree stump that had been cut down for its wood a few years ago, keeping her eyes on her bounty from afar. It was quite simple to remain hidden as the night sky provided her an easy camouflage while the fire allowed her to assess the man she was spying on. He had similar features to her bounty, Nathaniel Micah and her search had lead her to him. She was certain he was his bounty and the way he was alone in the forest while armed, probes her suspicions."
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nThe hairs on the back of Joseph's neck stood up. He had the feeling someone was watching him... No, he was probably just tired. *No shit, you're an insomniac* He thought wryly to himself. He shrugged and began humming an old childhood tune as he got out his woodcarving tools.*"
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Vanessa Ward\nForest of Ibethiel\n\nDeciding it was time while his guard was down, Vanessa made her way towards the man while doing her best avoid any twigs that may alert him of her presence. Once she neared her bounty, the sell-sword unsheathed her sword before placing it against the side of his neck from behind. The sharp blade nipping against his skin. \"Put your weapon down.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Forest of Ibethiel**\n\nJoseph abruptly dropped his carving tools and froze. Ohhhhhhhh shit. \"What is going on?\" He asked in his ridiculously low voice. His heart tapped out a quick tempo as possibilities raced through his mind. Maybe he went into bandit territory? Maybe it was a jumpy guard of a nearby city? \n\nWhoever it was, he didn't like it. Not one bit."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Vanessa Ward\nForest of Ibethiel\n\nVanessa raised a brow as she looked towards the back of the man's head before letting out an amused chuckle. Was what the man said a joke? Perhaps he thought he was a comedian. \"A lot of coin has been offered for your head. Fortunately for you, they want you alive.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Forests of Ibethiel**\n\n\"What the hell? Who put a price on me? Is this some sort of joke? I didn't do anything.\" Despite his angry and confused words, Joseph talked softly, ever so aware of the blade slicing into his neck when he spoke. The fire was out completely now and the forest was dark as pitch."
},
{
"author": "gonna_drown_the_rich",
"message": "Vanessa Ward\nForests of Ibethiel \n\n\"I'm surprised you don't know. You've made them quite upset that they've offered quite the amount for me to bring you to them.\" By the tone of his voice, she believed he didn't have an idea. Netherless, she was going to get what she was owed by handing him in. \"The crossbow by your foot and the stuff you dropped, kick it away from you and I'll take the sword away.\""
},
{
"author": "purelyplutonic",
"message": "**Joseph Everard**\n**Forests of Ibethiel**\n\nNot like he had much choice. Joseph kicked away the loaded crossbow and the carving tools. What had he done? Was Beatrice a fugitive? Was sheltering her for that one night illegal? He didn't stand a chance against a mercenary, he knew that. He may be strong and tough as nails, but he wasn't trained for combat."
}
] | 86 | 792 |
344.166667 | 2019-09-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby and Kirk Pinewood\nThe King's Study, Ibethiel Castle**\n\n\"That's wicked.\" Dennon said looking at a wound on Kirk's foot. \"A whole swarm of them came for you after that.\"\n\n\"Yes, thankfully I got the message and went for the shore after the first one took this bite out of me.\" Kirk put his foot down and began putting his shoe back on. He had been telling Dennon more stories about what happened on the quest. He hadn't been given the chance to tell the king everything due to the chaos that erupted on the day he returned home. \"I always try to keep my knife on me now. I'm not much of a knife fighter, but it's better than nothing.\"\n\n\"Yes. I've improved my own defenses in case someone else gets a bit rough in filing their grievances.\" Dennon reached down behind his desk and brandished a loaded crossbow to show off for Kirk.\n\n\"Nice. Can I hold it?\" Kirk asked, holding out his hands.\n\n\"Um...\" Dennon hesitated, not confident in the antiquities dealer's ability to not accidentally kill someone within firing distance.\n\n\"Please?\" \n\n\"Fine. Just be careful. Please.\" He gently handed over the weapon.\n\n\"Imagine people bringing complaints while you're holding this thing.\" Kirk began to mimic shooting it in different directions. \"Taxes are too high. Kwing! We need medicine. Kwing! Your wife's a bitch.\" *THWANG.* The crossbow fired, launching a bolt into the far wall.\n\n\"Maybe just stick with a knife for now...\" Dennon quickly took it back. He looked to his study doorway where two guards were standing, an upping in security measures since Sir Gringen Kemp was injured in the recent assassination attempt. \"Would one of you please get that?\" One of the guards walked over to the wall to fetch the discharged projectile while Dennon reloaded with a new one from a desk drawer. \n\n\"Sorry.\" Kirk shrugged.\n\n. . ."
},
{
"author": "jstkai",
"message": "**Synthreya\nIbethiel's Castle Door**\n\nSynthreya sighs as she takes one final breath of exhilaration and then calms herself as she walks closer to the Castle Doors where two guards stand guard on each side. Synthreya's clothes were a normal everyday townsfolk white dress. Nothing to special just as she wanted to make her visit a bit discrete. She didn't want the whole kingdom after her for what she's about to do.\n\nSynthreya walked towards the Castle doors with a pot of dirt in her hands with a couple of seeds buried inside. When she closed her eyes, she could sense the resonating power of the Sword that was within the castle walls. It's been quite a while since she last felt it's presence as she was relieved it was okay, but she still didn't accept that the Sword was within the castle.\n\nThe two guards noticed Synthreya and the one on the right responded with a firm and commanding voice, \"Halt!, State your business before you enter the castle.\"\n\n\"I am here to speak with the majesties. I hold nothing but a pot with some dirt inside as to resemble the struggles that my land is going through. The plants are not growing and I wish to speak with thine majesties of finding a answer.\", Synthreya spoke with a calm voice as she begged them. She felt wrong for lying to them but she must get to the sword.\n\nThe guards looked at each other as if they were looking for an answer. The left guard nodded their head and the right guard agreed as he nodded his as well. \"You may enter the castle, I shall escort you into a hall as I go and make your presence know to her royal highness\", The knight opened one side of the castle door as he politely gestured for Synthreya to go first.\n\n\"Thank you kind knight. I am so happy that you are helping me\", Synthreya nodded her head and walked into the castle with the knight closing the door behind her and walking beside her.\n\nAs they walked down the halls they reached an area where there was a big door and a couple of feet down the hall was a bench. The knight pointed to the bench and politely spoke to Synthreya, \"Please wait there as I speak with her highness.\", the knight seemed like he wasn't as rude as before and spoke nicely to Synthreya. Which she nodded and sat down on the bench with the pot beside her.\n\nThe knight stood firmly and faced towards the big door and knocked 3 times. The door slowly opened as from Synthreya's view she could see that there were people on the other side, possibly more knight. As the knight walked into the doors and they closed behind him, she sat there and closed her eyes. She began to concentrate as she tried to search through the castle for any plant life. There were some within the halls that looked like decoration and a garden nearby. None were within the throne room from what it seemed but there were some outside of the windows.\n\nUsing her magic she began to connect with the plants outside of the windows of the throne room and looked inside. From what she could see, The knight was knelt down on the red carpet that layed upon the front of the thrones. She could see that the queen was on her throne and that she had the face of someone that was annoyed. The queen lifted her hand and shooed the knight, she was saying something but Synthreya couldn't hear from where the plants and she was. The knight stood up and nodded his head. Synthreya quickly opened her eyes as she went back into her body and saw the doors open.\n\nTwo knights walked out of the throne room and stood right there as the doors closed behind them and they whispered to each other, \"I guess the queen is sending her to King Dennon. She sounded annoyed.\" The knight that helped her at the door walked with the other who nodded his head in agreement. \"She would be annoyed. King Dennon is probably busy drinking with his buddies and not helping her she said earlier.\"\n\n*So much for whispering to one another. I'm about 10 steps away from them and I can hear them.*, Synthreya thought within her head and chuckled on the inside, not showing an acknowledgement to their conversation. She stood up with the pot in hand as she noticed the knights walked towards her.\n\nThe knights walked towards her and the one that helped her at the door spoke with a firm voice again. \"This knight will help you to speak with his royal highness. The queen is currently busy. Goodluck to you Madam.\", He said as he turned and walked back towards the castle doors. \"Please follow me and do keep up.\", the other knight said quite rudely as if calling Synthreya slow."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby and Kirk Pinewood\nThe King's Study, Ibethiel Castle**\n\nDennon and Kirk heard a knock at the door and saw the guards open it to speak with someone outside. They eventually closed it and turned around. \"There's a commoner woman here requesting an audience with you.\" One of the guards said.\n\n\"Me? Most of the citizens don't really care for me. Was Lucrezia busy or something?\" Dennon asked.\n\n\"Yes.\" The guard said.\n\n\"Oh, send her in, I guess.\" Dennon sat down behind his desk and adjusted the sword of Therador on his belt so that it wasn't in an awkward position. \"Try not to make me look bad, Kirk.\" The antiquities dealer stood nearby."
},
{
"author": "jstkai",
"message": "**Synthreya\nThe King's Study, Ibethiel Castle**\n\nWith the guard opening the door and making an arm gesture to let her in. Synthreya stood up to see the king sitting there with a man nearby who she didn't seem to know about. Synthreya paid no mind and could see that The Sword of Therador was on the kings belt. She looked towards the king and bowed her head as she paid her respects.\n\n\"My king, I am humble that you have accepted my request in speaking with you.\", Synthreya thanked him as she bowed and her head was low as she looked towards the ground. She didn't move as she waited for the king to respond, in respect. \"The earth and soil around my farm is troublesome. The plants won't grow and they die as we speak, please my king. Can you help me find an answer?\", She said as she kept her head low and raised the pot of dirt towards his majesty."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby and Kirk Pinewood\nThe King's Study, Ibethiel Castle**\n\nDennon nodded toward her for a greeting and looked to Kirk when she brought up her soil troubles. \"I'm not a farmer...\" Dennon said under his breath. He looked back at the woman. \"Uh, I suppose I could direct you toward one of our irrigation specialists. Ibethiel values its farmland and those who live on it. What was your name, Miss?\""
},
{
"author": "jstkai",
"message": "**Synthreya\nThe King's Study, Ibethiel Castle**\n\nSynthreya raised her head and rested the pot of dirt in front of them on the table. She looked back to see that the knight had left and sighed in relief as she was trying to keep this brief. \"My name is Synthreya, also known as The Lady of the Woods.\"\n\nSynthreya responded with a bow and lifted her hand in front of her. The sword resonating and shaking while held upon the kings belt. \"And forgive me King of Ibethiel but you have stolen what is mine.\", Synthreya said with a bit of fierceness in her voice. The Sword of Therador shot out of the kings belt and levitated in the air. The swords tip pointing at the kings neck as it flew about 3 inches away from his face.\n\n[[ Sorry for the late response. I was making dinner for my grandmother."
}
] | 197.5 | 2,065 |
231.5 | 2019-10-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\n\n\nAmaryllis was in the front of her shop, sweeping the steps and the cobble stone. She wanted to tidy up the store, hoping the attractive more costumers. \n\nAmaryllis knew that she needed to make some money soon to pay for the shops rent. It was where she lived as well. She slept on a rug behind the counter. It wasn't great, but it was warmer than living in the forest, like she did as a child. \n\nAmaryllis new that is was about time to open the shop, but she wanted to wait for someone to come by. She wanted to make sure everyone had a great experience there. It was a pretty personal business, after all."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe streets of the capital city of Ibethiel were filled with life and the cacophony of overlapping voices. People moved across the cobblestone path like opposing currents that shared the same riverbed. Radiance from the morning sun brought the clouds overhead luminating with a sublime glow, birds flew overhead, adding life to the atmosphere of busy city streets. \n\nFrom the distance, a lone figure moved solemnly down the center of the road. The crowds parting around him like a stone in a stream. A few glances were offered to the mountain of a man that stood at a height of six feet, seven inches and with a broad-shouldered frame that complimented his height with a broad frame. Vestments that were woven from pelt and hide adorned the statuesque build of chiseled brawn- from the long-sleeved tunic that dressed his torso to the rugged trousers that stretched the length of the lower half of his body, tucking in the fur-fined boots that clothed his feet. The gentle morning gale billowed through the streets brought the long strands of hair in a dark chestnut hue flowing away from rugged features, exposing the man's beard face and relatively stoic expression. At his back, a large sword slept soundly in the sheathe that was held to his back by way of leather straps that hugged over his torso from his shoulder, wrapping around his chest, holding the weapon in place. It's soft, metallic rattle added to the percussion of his heavy steps, announcing his approach. \n\nThe warrior's course came to slow as he neared a particular structure. A red-haired woman standing out front with a broom in hand captured his attention, summoning the warrior to draw near. He had heard word from some of the other locals that a reader of sorts was in the area, offering Melkaire the notion that perhaps this reader- whomever they were- could provide the warrior with some measure of insight to the answers he was seeking."
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby and Kirk Pinewood\nThe King's Study, Ibethiel Castle**\n\n\"Lady of the Woods?\" Kirk whispered quietly, looking at the pot of dirt with a perplexed look.\n\nDennon started to speak up as the accusation was leveled against him. \"I have stolen nothing from-\" He was cut off by his new sword leaving its sheath and levitating near his neck. He paused before speaking again, calmly. \"Kirk, when you said you stole the sword from a giant, I didn't think you were talking about a woman who was taller than you...\" Dennon slowly began to lean down to reach for something behind his desk.\n\n\"I wasn't! It was a real giant. She's lying! I've never seen her before in my life.\" Kirk said defensively.\n\n\"Then why is she here making it *Float!?*\" Dennon asked, still slowly reaching downward.\n\n\"I don't know. She's probably just some witch with a cheap levitation trick who doesn't mind her own business.\" Kirk said angrily.\n\n\"Well, then perhaps we should do what she says and give it to- SECRET CROSSBOW!\" Dennon yelled, suddenly pulling up the weapon he had shown Kirk earlier and pointing it at the dirt witch. \"Ha!\"\n\n\"Nice!\" Kirk said, taking the opportunity to pull out his own knife.\n\n\"Madame, I don't know how you learned about this sword, but I'm afraid you can't have it. We have an ancient law in this land. 'He who findeth it, keepeth it.'\" \n\n\"Technically, *I* Found it.\" Kirk chimed in.\n\n\"You want to do this *Now?*\" Dennon asked, with the sword still floating inches away from his neck with his crossbow aimed at the woman.\n\n\"I'm just saying, technically-\"\n\n\"**Technically,** You were under my employ and using directions that I provided.\" Dennon cut him off."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\n\nAmaryllis saw as a giant man with dark long locks and bright blue eyes approached her. She gave a kind smile as she saw him.\n\n\"Hello sir. Are you wanting inside the shop, or are you asking for directions?\" She asked him, since usually people just wanted to know where a different building or shop was. \n\nAmaryllis shyly toyed with her red locks, her light hazel eyes looking up at the very tall man. She truly didn't see that he would be a customer, since he looked tough enough. *Probably a good immune system, and definitely no emotions. Brute, probably. No, don't assume such things... Maybe he's the strong silent type?*"
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nBefore the warrior stood a striking woman with fair features, a kind smile, and hair red like fire. Her warm greeting drew his gaze that swept across the front exterior of her establishment to lock upon her features. A warm, cordial smile was forced to full lips that drew into an upward curve of a smile, a faint curvature of dimple forming beneath the layer of facial hair that dwelled upon grizzled features. \n\n\"I have heard word that a reader dwells in these parts.\" The cadence of his voice was carried by low, rough, accented tones. For a man that bore the appearance of a brute, he was well-spoken and seemed intelligent enough. His left hand arose, reaching up towards his face, pinching a few strands of windswept hair, and drew them back to be tucked behind his ear. Eyebrows burrowed above narrowing eyes that shielded the azure colored orbs that dwelled within as they scanned about the immediate area, awaiting a response."
},
{
"author": "jstkai",
"message": "**Synthreya\nThe King's Study, Ibethiel Castle**\n\nSynthreya raised her left hand in the air above her and clenched it into a fist. A green magic arcane circle formed out of thin air. She smiled as she watched them ponder. \"Forgive me, but That giant you're speaking of. Stole the sword from me.\" A large vine emerged from the pot of dirt and whipped towards Dennons wrist using the the argument as a reason to surprise attack and knock the crossbow out of his hand.\n\n\"Forgive me but I was the Original Guardian of the Sword of Therador. Although I should be thanking you for retrieving the sword but I'm sure you have no intention of giving it to me.\" The arcanic circle shined. Vines and roots emerged from the walls and floors. The room began to fill with plants as Synthreya stood there. \"I'm not a fan of forceful actions but The Sword of Therador is an exception.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis was taken aback by the intelligence of the stranger. She rested both her hands on the broom handles, one laying over the other. She smiled when he spoke of a reader. \n\n\"Yes, I'm the reader. Some people call me a psychic. Others say a witch. I just believe that I can see what you can't. Are you wanting a reading?\" She asked him, taking in his features. He was quite attractive, but she wasn't going to say anything about that. She would just silently enjoy the view."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nNaught but a stoic expression could be seen over the warrior's worn and grizzled face. In spite of this, there was a warm, gentle glare in his eyes that was afforded to the woman, though his silence stayed upon him. \n\nAs she spoke, Melkaire's gaze arose to behold at the front of her shop once more. His right eyebrow lifted to form a sharp, inquisitive arch while he studied the structure and soaked in her words. Terms like 'Psychic' and 'Witch' did not bare the same cultural stigma as found in other regions of Marin. The idea was met with skepticism at first, feeling that he would be too lucky to find the answers he sought from this woman. However, it did not mean that Melkaire wasn't willing to try. \n\nAnd so, he brought his gaze back to the woman with the fiery, red hair. Another smile was brandished across his lips just before a dip of his bearded chin brought his head lowering to bow. \"Aye.\" Melkaire responded with a near grunt, \"I would very much like one.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis grinned widely. She was excited. She ran to the door and opened it. \"Please come in! The room with the red door is where we will sit. You can pick an incense to burn, if you wish. Maybe some candles. Or both. Whatever pleases your senses.\" She said and smiled.\n\nShe was extremely excited to serve him. She hadn't had very many customers, especially ones that wanted readings. This was new to her.\n\n\"I am Amaryllis Sage, by the way. I own this shop. My mother taught me all I know. She was a shaman in the woods.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**King Dennon Bigsby and Kirk Pinewood\nThe King's Study, Ibethiel Castle**\n\n\"Hey!\" Dennon yelled as the crossbow was ripped away. He turned to Kirk, who still held his knife. \"Kirk, get her!\" Kirk didn't answer, the sudden intrusion of plants had given him a flashback to dealing with carnivorous trees in the forest. He was frozen in fear. With more branches and vines overtaking the room, Dennon had to think quickly. He looked to the dirt witch. \"You said original guardian, right?\" He could no longer see his feet under thick, green leaves. \"What if you aren't meant to be the guardian anymore? I didn't just find a map. A force I don't understand pointed me in the direction of where to find it. Maybe it was meant to be in the hands of someone else.\""
}
] | 193.5 | 2,315 |
167.6 | 2019-10-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe smile was found to be endearing, coaxing one from the warrior, himself. It was infectious, that much was certain. Her cordial and friendly demeanor had began to radiate all the more. He remained standing steadfast just at the threshold, an exchanging of glances traded off between her and the building. He started to consider the options, pondering between incense and candle, though at her suggestion, he was leaning toward both. \n\nMelkaire followed her lead, delving deeper into the shop and following her to the room with the red door. The introduction came at the issuing of her name, it was a beautiful name. As unique as the woman who carried it. With a dip of his bearded chin, Melkaire bowed his head to her in return. \n\n\"I am delighted to meet you, Amaryllis Sage. My name is Melkaire Amarth.\" After he introduced himself, he gave a slight roll of his shoulders. \"Just a sell sword. Nothing more.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis shook her head at him. She was a bit disappointed at how he thought of himself. She then brought over a few selections of candles and incense. \n\n\"Everyone is more than their occupation. You are a man. You are a son. Besides your parents, there is nothing but the unknown. And that's why you're here, isn't it?\" She said, reading a little bit into him already."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe warrior remained silent and still as she spoke. Taking in her words with a measure.Of consideration most would not come to expect from a man such as he. A steady glare trailed after her while she moved around, eventually his gaze fell to the floor. Melkaire closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath before acknowledging her words with a slow nod.\n\n\"You sound like my mother.\" Said the warrior, opening his eyes once more. A subtle lift carried his sights upward to behold upon the woman's features. \"Aye.\" Melkaire acknowledged, offering another nod of the head, \"That is why I am here. I hope you will provide answers. Or at least an idea of what it is I should do next.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis nodded to him and smiled. \"Of course. Now pick the scents of your choice and I'll burn them. And if you would like, I could rub your back. Some people believe that sensitive touch can release energies.\" \n\nShe then gestures to his seat in the center of the room. It was in front of a small table and another chair was on the other side with a brown cloak laying in it."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nFollowing her suggestion, Melkaire began to peruse the selection of incense. Narrowed eyes scanned the selection carefully, reading each name that accompanied the small bundles. He came to a stop when one of them stuck out to him, its name alone demanded recognition. \"Dragon's blood.\" He muttered, chuckling softly with amusement. \"Interesting name.\" \n\nHis gaze fell back to Amaryllis when she offered to rub his back, a steady incline of his right eyebrow was displayed. \"Truly?\" He asked, looking rather dumbfounded. A moment of silence was traded off for contemplation. Burrowing eyebrows brought his features tension with contemplation. He had never had a reading before, and as such, couldn't really validate her statement, one way or the other.\n\n\"Well, I suppose if you think that it will work.\" He rolled his shoulders slightly and started to move to the seat she motioned to, lowering himself to sit in the chair."
}
] | 170 | 838 |
277.92 | 2019-10-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis smiled and began to burn his candle and incense of choice. A strong berry and herb scent filled the air. She then made her way over to him and tucked his hair back. Once behind him, she began to massage his shoulders slowly, being sure to add enough pressure to work out any knots to ensure total relaxation. \n\n\"Just relax and breathe. Any questions you have, I will answer. You are a man with an unknown past. Your parents and origin are unknown. You were left and found by a barren couple in the snow. And you are trying to find your true place in this world. Who is your parents? Why did they leave? Who are you? Those things may matter to you, but you make your own path. However, there may be something in your grasp. You say you're a sellsword? You may become a guard or knight, if yo may wish. You don't know your true family? You could accept your current parent as your family and believe that cosmos did this for a reason. Your intentions may be pure curiosity to figure out the how and why, but in doing so, it could hurt the ones you love. Some family do not like when you question your place. I was orphaned, so I understand.\" She said, soon moving her slim, pale hands to rub his neck and back.\n\n\"Wise advice would be to cherish what you have, but I know you want to ask questions, so go ahead, darling.\""
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nNostrils flexed with the in taking of breath, the scents of herbs and berries flooded into his nostrils. Tension ebbed slowly from his frame with each breath, enabling him to relax slightly. The delicate touch of her hands were felt at his back, moving away the strands of fallen hair, gathering them.Over his back, and pressed her hands into his shoulders, rubbing them.\n\nThe warrior let out a contented sigh, closing his eyes and tilting his head slightly backward. Her voice was like a siren's song that sought to lull him into a state of mind that would drop his defenses. She started to speak to him about things no one could possibly know. The origin of his birth, the adoption of kind hearted strangers that took him in as their own, raising him like he was truly of their flesh, of their blood. Melkaire opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling while she mouthed the very questions that plagued his mind for years now. \n\nMelkaire had not ever considered the possible consequences to his actions. The inadvertent damage that could be done to Helga and Siegfried: the two souls that gave him the love and nurturing affection that few children ever got to experienced. In this, he felt grateful at nearly equal measure to his curiosity. \n\n\"I had not thought about ever becoming a guard or a knight.\" He admitted, \"I did not think one would find me worthy of such stations. Truth be told, my focus has been on the very things you just mentioned.\"\n\nA moment of silence was shared before Melkaire spoke once more. \"I do cherish them. More than the world. They are everything that made me the man I am now. But I still wish to find out the truth to my origins. The significance of this riddle is obvious to me.\"\n\nSighing, the warrior began to shake his head slowly. A slight touch of blush graced rugged features at the perhaps unintentional term of endearment. \"If you know so much about me already, do you see what lays on the path. Before me? Do I find answers? Do I die a glorious death in battle?\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis offered a small chuckle. She enjoyed his eagerness to learn about himself. \n\n\"Your answers lie within Ibethiel. I believe your parents were very young and not ready to harness what it meant to be parents. Now, they are older and have moved separate ways. Your mother, marrried to a wealthy man. I could picture him, fat and beaming. They have a little girl. Your father, drunk, lonely. Standards have left and whores are where his pensions go. If he doesn't pull out, god knows how many children he has. Your future, however, is unknown, since you influencer. But, my guess? I see you as a hard working family man. 3 kids, a beautiful wife, living outside the city. Not too far from work, but just outside enough for peace and quiet.\"\n\nAmaryllis slowly removed her hands from his back and shoulders, a slight tingle to her hands from working them. She then pinched the wick with her fingers the then pressed her ash-coated index finger on the center of his forehead, making a mark. \n\n\"Any more questions?\" She asked him"
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe warrior withdrew to a state of silence, staring into space while she offered him what her visions had shown regarding his life. A frown slowly spawned across full lips, hearing the truth laid bare. Despite his initial belief, it became known that his answers, in fact, lied in Ibethiel. The tale of his birth parents caused his heart to sink. They had forsaken him for the sake of loving parents discovering him by only chance and nothing more. He felt a measure of disapproval to hear of the fate of his mother and father and the news of at least one half sibling if not an outright plethora of them that were spawned by his birth father's indiscretions. \n\nWhat laid in his future, beyond his quest for answers was unknown, but her following statement regarding her perspective of the likelihood of his future caused the warrior to scoff a little. The warrior was deep-rooted in his belief that such a fate was beyond his grasp, and surrendered himself to the notion that life by the sword was his only destiny. \n\n\"A beautiful wife and children, you say?\" The right corner of his mouth curled upward, forming a smirk that measured his amusement. \"Indeed, you are a seer. I do not ever see such a thing for me. Men like me, our path is one of solitude. I do not see any other way.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis rolled her eyes at his remarks. She truly didn't see that for him. \n\n\"Oh please! Don't give me that garbage. You are a very attractive man. You just haven't spoken to the right woman. Living by the sword isn't all you have to do in life. It may pay, but it will be lonely...\" \n\nAmaryllis looked him up and down and bit her lip, hoping she didn't potentially piss him off."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe protest of Amaryllis brought both eyebrows raising high, forming a slight crease in his brow. The words were unexpected, but he found himself respecting her for her honesty. A slight canting of the head was made as he mulled over her words objectively. He couldn't deny that she was right on some accounts- for the women he did converse with were far from the right woman. It was then he began to consider if it was a deliberate act subconsciously. \n\n\"I suppose you are not wrong, there.\" Melkaire offered, shrugging softly. \"This path of mine affords very little in the ways of good women. Mercenaries seem to attract a certain... Quality.\" He spoke ironically and cleared his throat."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis giggled and smiled widely. \"Used, not new or fresh quality, I can assume? Something quick, easy, and sleazy. Best to wash after one of those... Yikes.\" She said, being sarcastic now. \n\nShe assumed that Melkaire would want a faithful woman, and probably one that hadn't been... *Visited* By many. She played with her hair shyly as she looked up at him. \n\n\"Well, I shouldn't pry into anything too personal like that... Anything else? I could sell you some candles of the scent you picked tonight. Maybe the incense too?\" She asked"
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth \nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe giggle was strangely disarming for the warrior that still sat in the seat. A slight tilt of the head and a nonchalant roll of the shoulders was offered. \"The only type of woman that is attracted to sell swords, those one could not have a future with.\" He replied, frowning slightly. It was in that moment and only that moment that the warrior realized that the life he lived was a hollow existence indeed. Despite how much he didnt want to admit it, the love a good, faithful woman was likely embody the one thing he needed the most. \n\nBut such thoughts were the seeds of weakness, or so he kept telling himself.\n\n\"I have nothing to hide. Besides, you know more about me than anyone apparently. But I would not mind purchasing some of that incense.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "She nods and gathered a few sticks of the incense and wrapped them. She then laid them in front of him. \n\n\"I know that you think you're weak, thinking that a family would make you so... It would give you something to fight for and make you stronger, you know... Your mother would be upset if she knew you thought that. And she would probably enjoy some grandchildren.\" She said and have a smile hopefully smile. \n\n\"You should know better than to think that way. You never know who may have their eyes set on you. Explore outside your 'type'. If you see a nice woman, ask her out for a hot meal or take her for a walk.\" Amaryllis suggested."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nHelga, the woman that saved his life and adopted as her own along with her loving husband, flashed across his mind's view when she spoke again. She was right on both fronts, he did believe it made him weak, and he acknowledged that at some point, likely soon, she would speak on the wanting of grandchildren. \n\n\"Spoken like a true shaman.\" Melkiare returned with a sigh and a shake of the head. \"I know in my heart that your words ring true. Much as I despise to admit such.\" He couldn't help but laugh after that. It felt good to laugh again. \n\n\"Very well, wise one. I will heed your advice. Perhaps you are right. I do not think it would hurt to try at least.\" Little did she know, the warrior, inspite of his size and appearance, was a touch on the bashful side. Courtesans made it easier. There was little in the way of conversation. He found it ironic that he could face a horde of warriors without any measure of fear, but talking to a beautiful woman was an intimidating prospect. \n\nRising from his seat, he rolled his shoulders, feeling the ease of muscles from the working of her hands that massaged them. Turning to face her, he smiled and bowed his head respectfully. \n\n\"You have my thanks, Amaryllis.\" The smile lingered while his head lifted back up. \"How much do I owe you for your service and goods?\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "\"20 gold will suffice. And you are very welcome, Melkaire. I hope the you stop by another time. Stock up on herbs and such. I have them dried, bottles, and labeled for all their uses. And who knows? Maybe you just want another massage from me!\" She said and gave him a playful wink. She giggled softly and blushed. \n\nShe usually never flirted. Especially not with customers. But for some unknown reason, this man; some stranger, tickled her fancy. However, she did just embarrass herself, causing her face to grow darker. \n\n\"Sorry. B-bad jokes...\" She said before leading him out from to the counter, where she would give him a card and open her small jewelry chest, where she placed her money. Not any jewelry, however."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nA nod of acknowledgement was afforded to her. His right arm moved up to his chest, sliding his hand in-between the folds of the fur raiment that adorned his mighty build. His hand moved about beneath the fabric, soon causing the sound of metallic jingles to resonate from within. \n\nPulling his hand out, a small, dark, leather pouch was seen nestled securely within his grasp. A few soft tosses had the pouch bouncing against the palm of his hand, measuring the weight and in turn, the amount. Narrowed eyes focused in on the pouch while lips pursed with consideration. He paused, glancing upward to the woman with a surprised expression. \"Well, you *Do* Give good massages!\" He praised, quite satisfied with that aspect of the visit and certainly enough to entice another visit most certainly. \n\nHe smiled at her, oblivious of the slightly bashful disposition the beautiful woman had displayed. An unfortunate byproduct of his lifestyle had ultimately disabled him from reading good women correctly.\n\n\"Here.\" The pouch was offered through an extended hand, \"Money well spent. I thank you for... Well, everything. Your advice is sound indeed. Even I cannot argue its logic.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis counted the coins and placed them into her small chest before returning the purse to him. She was a tad upset that he didn't react to her flirt, but she knew she shouldn't act on it anymore.\n\nShouldn't was a key word to that thought. But would? Yeah, that's what would happen. She took a slight breath before breaking the ice. \n\n\"Would you like to stay for some tea or coffee?\" She asked, shyly playing with a few curls in her red hair."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth \nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe warrior was both oblivious and dense, unaware of all the possibilities he had forsaken due to that particular ailment. She was, however, quite striking ,with a kindness that matched her beauty. There was warmth and comfort in her presence that was found unusual to.Him, as his interactions with people with such dispositions were minimal at best. These factors were not lost on him.\n\nEyebrows raised in surprise by her invitation. It was unexpected as far as he was concerned. A smile was given in return, easing his stature somewhat. \"Sure. That sounds nice.\" Melkaire responded, nodding his head and watched with intrigue as she played with some of the strands of her fiery red hair, curious as to why she was doing that. \"I admit, it has been many nights since I got to enjoy the company of another. The wilds do not offer much in the way of social interaction.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis grinned and clapped her hands in excitement. \"Great! I'll prepare us a few snacks as well! Would you prefer coffee or tea? Oh! And make yourself at home.\" She said and went into the kitchen to start cutting up various fruits and some bread. \n\nAmaryllis didn't have much. Bread, dried meats, cheese, and a few fruits. Also canned goods and wine. She was hoping that Melkaire would take this invite to heart and could persue it as his future. Amaryllis also wanted a husband, or at least a simple courtship. She had never been in a relationship, but she wanted one. She was afraid she would grow too old and lose chance of making something of herself. \n\n\"Company is always good, dear. Never think it makes you weak.\""
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth \nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe warrior's surprise heightened with her excited display. A slight tilt of the head was given while the man's full lips remained kept in a smile. The endearing act warmed the man whom was much more used to the coldness of people. The warrior's pale, cerulean gaze swept over her from head to toe in wonder as though he contemplated something. Her inquiry summoned a realization that he had not considered before. \n\n\"I drink coffee normally. I do not think I ever tried tea before.\" He returned.\n\nHer invitation was just as surprising. He turned about in place, looking around the room in the wake of her departure. For the time she was gone, the warrior idly wandered, looking about at the furniture and decor before eventually finding a seat to lower himself into and waited patiently for her return, utterly clueless to her intentions.\n\nStill, he found himself already wanting to visit again. She was a friendly and welcoming. A rare thing to find in Marin beyond that of his adoptive parents. The sheathed blade was slipped off of his shoulder and left to stand, leaning against his seat.\n\nAt her return, Melkaire lifted his gaze, offering a friendly smile. \"Perhaps.\" He replied softly. \"I am not accustomed to this sort of thing.\" A nervous chuckle escaped from the big man. His right arm raised, moving the palm of his hand to the back of his head, rubbing it. A telltale sign that the warrior was feeling nervous."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis returned with a tray of food and set it on her spruce wood coffee table. She was glad that he was comfortable; somewhat. She say that he was nervous. \n\n\"Why are you nervous? I don't bite, unless you ask nicely.\" She teased and giggled. She then took a seat beside him. \"Our drinks will be finished when the kettles scream.\""
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth \nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nMuch to his shock, Amaryllis possessed a keen observation. Either that, or it was blatantly obvious to her more so than to himself. The warrior bore a smile, trying his best to mask what he was feeling, but deepdown, he knew the coy act wouldn't work. \n\n\"Apologies, Amaryllis. I am just not accustomed to this sort of thing.\" Admittance didnt come easily for the man, but honesty was the best policy. It was better than an attempt of denial, he thought. \"You would bite me, huh?\" He chuckled, \"I do not think I would taste very good!\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis blushed and giggled, her smile genuine as well as her laugh. She patted his knee gently. \n\n\"Well, I'm sure with a little bit of sugar and spice, you'd make a lovely snack!\" She teased and playfully elbowed his buff bicep. \n\n\"It's okay to be nervous. Once you hang around, you may get accustomed to me, sir.\" She said and tucked a few strands of her copper hair behind her ear."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe sound of her giggle was endearing, keeping his smile spreading across his full lips. Slowly, his gaze diverted from her and lowered to the floor, feeling the nudge her elbow against the firm swell of his bicep. It earned his gaze once more, causing Melkaire to elevate his bearded chin and regard her with a warm glance. \n\nHowever, in the wake of her teasing remark, his eyes widened and cheeks grew flush in a shade of red. It was his turn to blush. Still her welcoming demeanor was enough to wave off any growing feelings of discomfort or bashfulness. Truth was, he wasn't very accustomed to such friendliness and warmth as it was. It reminded him of his adoptive mother, in a way. \n\n\"So long as you can bare with me while I grow more used to this.\" He offered, still smiling, \"I think we could be great friends indeed!\" Returned the warrior."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis blushed and glanced up at him, her hazel eyes meeting with his vivid blue beauties. She was mesmerized that such a handsome, yet brute looking of a man was so timid and quiet. Gentle giant would fit this perfectly.\n\n\"My, you really are handsome...\" She said softly. Realizing she had uttered this out loud, she cursed under her breath. \n\n\"Shit... Sorry! I shouldn't have said that... I-I'll go check on our drinks..!\" She said, quickly going to the kitchen, clearly as bashful as he was."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop and Hexrakes**\n\nHelga Amarth - his adoptive mother, often said when describing him: \"*That boy is either a teddy bear or a grizzly bear. Which side of him you'll see depends on you.*\" As such, it became the most profound way to describe the warrior. \n\nA steady gaze and warm facial expression greeted Amaryllis when she looked into his eyes. She was certainly a beautiful woman, there was no doubting that. Hazel eyes glistened like precious stones, accentuating her already breathtaking features and fair skin. It was hard *Not* To look away. \n\nEyebrows arose against the slope of his brow, forming a crease across his flesh. Her words struck him with surprise, it was one thing for her to compliment him on his looks while she did the reading, but this time felt much more personal. Stunned, he sat still and silent, his face growing a darker shade of crimson hue when she quickly sprang from the couch to the kitchen.\n\nAfter a couple steady blinks, he basked in silence and thought while she went to go check on their beverages. \"By the gods...\" Melkaire muttered, taking his finger and tugging it along the collar of his tunic as though he was releasing heat from beneath the covering fabric of pelt and hide. \"... Did it suddenly get warmer in here?\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis poured their drink. Black coffee and earl grey tea. She placed cream and sugar on a tray with the mugs and spoons. She then came out with the tray. \n\n\"Here we are! Drinks and snacks.\" She said and smiled. Amaryllis set the tray on the table and sat down. She then mixed some cream and sugar into her tea and stirred it."
},
{
"author": "jstkai",
"message": "**Synthreya,\nThe King's Study, Ibethiel Castle**\n\n\"I am the guardian of The Sword of Therador as well as the one who bares witness to the choosing.\" Synthreya lowered her right arm that summoned the Arcanic circle, the magic circle dissipating. She then lifted her right arm in front of her, parallel to her left arm. A big flower that is about 1/4 of a giant round table grew in front of her. \"The Sword of Therador isn't just a weapon or an item for your disposal. The Sword of Therador is alive, and it chooses it's wielder.\"\n\nSynthreya twirled her index finger in a circle, the pollen on the flower spun and twirled into a tiny tornado. The pollen separated and took form into the shape of the sword of therador and a male figure in front of it. The male figure reached for the sword, the pollen sword of therador lifted into the air and flew right into his hands. The pollen then fell back down as the display ended.\n\n\"I won't be it's guardian for long but I must be there to help it's wielder or bare witness to the choosing. If this force you say that calls you to the sword is true then-\" Synthreya paused as she lowered her arms, the sword of therador now levitating upward and peacefully in front of Dennon. \"I shall see if it has chosen you or not.\""
},
{
"author": "rosstheboss.",
"message": "**Clebson Albury and Verina Crowe\nThe Ibethiel Countryside, Nearing The Terresol Border**\n\n\"Must you hit *Every* Bump in the road?\" Clebson asked with his eyes closed while laying on a sack of flour in the back of a supply wagon.\n\n\"If you are dissatisfied with my driving, you can be a gentleman and come up here so that I can be the one sitting in back complaining.\" Verina sarcastically snapped back. \n\n\"You ruined a perfectly good night of drinking telling me Dennon was sending us on this errand. The least you could do is let me nap in peace until we get there.\"\n\n\"The least *You* Could do is your job. You're supposed to be on guard.\"\n\n\"There are knights in front of and behind us! I think will be fine.\" Clebson said, gesturing at their escort. Queen Lucrezia had received a vague message of distress from a guard post along the Terresol border. She ordered a small force of knights to go help. Dennon had volunteered Verina and Clebson for the job of driving the supply wagon so that he could have someone he trusted there to figure out what was going on.\n\n. . .\n\nThe wagon eventually hit a sudden incline, causing Clebson to fall off the sack. He angrily got back up to his knees and looked up to see they had reached the mountains. \"Rise and shine!\" Verina said gleefully after hearing the ruckus behind her. The mountain road led to a keep-like building attached to a gate that was able to stretch across the narrow mountain pass. The gate was closed. On their way to the keep, they also passed a fenced off area containing several people appearing to make camp. Many watched as the small caravan passed by.\n\n\"What's with them?\" Clebson asked.\n\n\"I don't know. It must have something to do with the distress message.\" Verina responded. As they approached the keep, a few of the guards stationed there came to meet them.\n\n\"Thank you all for coming. Our resources are being spread thin.\" The guard leading the rest said.\n\n\"What exactly is going on?\" Verina asked as she and her useless riding companion got out of the wagon. A few of the other guards began to unload it.\n\n\"Perhaps you should follow me.\" The guard uttered quietly, leading them towards the keep.\n\n. . .\n\n\"We started to notice that people were coming through coughing.\" The head guard said, leading them up a stairwell in the keep. \"Then it got worse. Rash, bloody eyes, sores. When we realized it was a sickness that was being brought in, we stopped everyone we could and fenced them off in the area you passed on the way here.\" They reached the top of the stairs and walked onto the keep roof. \"We closed the gates to everyone else.\" He pointed to the Terresol side of the pass. A massive crowd of people on foot or near their means of transport were scattered all over the road, waiting to be let through. The ones who had been there for some time had set up camp. \n\nA woman down below saw people standing on the roof and yelled to them. \"Please, my family only brought enough food for the journey. We can't stay down here forever!\" A few others echoed her sentiments.\n\n\"We just had some supplies delivered. They will be distributed as soon as they are ready.\" The head guard yelled. A few of his men came onto the roof carrying the supplies. They were tied to ropes and lowered to those down below.\n\n\"When do you plan to open the gates?\" Verina asked.\n\nThe head guard shrugged. \"It's hard to say. Maybe when it looks like they aren't sick anymore.\"\n\n\"That could be days, at least. Maybe weeks.\" Verina said, shocked.\n\n\"You said you only stopped people when you began to notice something was wrong. If you weren't looking for it at first, there are probably people with this illness who made it past you and weren't detected. They could be at Hexrakes by now.\" Clebson chimed in.\n\n\"It's possible...\" The head guard mumbled.\n\n\"We need to tell people. Why wasn't this in your message?\" Verina asked.\n\n\"If I had said a plague was waiting at the border, help wouldn't have come.\" The head guard began coughing into his sleeve. When he pulled his mouth away, there were a few small blood stains on his sleeve. \"Damn...\"\n\nClebson began to pull on Verina's sleeve. \"Verina we need to leave this place. We need to-\"\n\n*\"AAAAAAAAHHH!\"* A woman began screaming from the crowd down below. She was carrying a boy limp in her arms, blood oozing from his eyes. \"My baby!\" She wailed.\n\n\"It's going to kill us all!\" Someone called out. The crowd began to panic. Some began fighting over the supplies being lowered from the keep. Others rushed the pass's gateway doors and began pounding on them.\n\n\"Verina, come on!\" Clebson grabbed Verina's arm and pulled her toward the stairs.\n\n\"Hey! Get away from the gate!\" The guard yelled down at the crowd between coughs, but no one listened. \"Men, load your crossbows.\"\n\n. . .\n\nClebson reached the bottom of the stairs first and went ahead to check the wagon. Seeing it was still there, he looked back and saw several guards running for the gate, pressing against it with their own bodies. \"Is there anything to hold the gate with?\" He asked a passing guard. \n\n\"We used all the braces to make the fence for them!\" The guard pointed to the crowd of people who had already made it through the gates before they were closed. They had been left unguarded due to the crisis at the gate, and some were trying to break out.\n\n\"Hey, shouldn't someone be watching them?\" Clebson yelled to any guard nearby who could hear as people started to break through the fence. No one heard him. He also realized Verina still hadn't exited the keep.\n\n. . .\n\nVerina reached the bottom of the stairs and heard someone wince in pain from a room nearby with an ajar door. She slowly approached the opening to see what was going on inside. One of the guards was standing in front of a mirror with his shirt off looking at the pustular rash covering his back. Verina gasped and covered her mouth. The guard noticed her standing there and began to walk toward her with his hand outstretched. \"Don't tell the captain...\"\n\nShe backed away and was touched from behind. It was Clebson. \"Come on!\" \n\n. . .\n\nThey left the keep as the guards attempted to hold the gates closed. \"Fire!\" The head guard yelled from the roof. The twang of several crossbows firing from the rooftops was followed by more screams from the crowd, which only became more panicked and harder to hold back.\n\n\"Jones, it's on your arm.\" One of the guards pressed against the gate began to back away from his fellow soldier. More followed.\n\n\"Guys, wait. I'm fine.\" The exodus away from the guard named Jones weakened the hold on the wooden gate. It broke open, allowing people to flood in. Jones was knocked backward and trampled by the onslaught of the infected and uninfected alike.\n\n\"Get to the wagon!\" Clebson urged Verina on and they sprinted for the only thing they had to make it out of there. Verina took the driver's seat, and as she got the wagon moving, Clebson waited at the rear end to knock off those who were trying to climb on. They couldn't risk taking anyone infected back to Hexrakes. Once they were too fast for anyone running, both sat in silence as screams from the chaos they were leaving behind faded away.\n\n. . .\n\nThey didn't stop until they reached Ibethiel castle. \"Don't touch it. Just burn it.\" Clebson told the stable yard workers as they dropped off the wagon.\n\n\"We need to tell Dennon.\" Verina said, making her way toward the castle entrance.\n\n\"Verina...\" Clebson waited behind.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"They touched me as we were leaving. I may have it. I can't go in the castle.\"\n\n\"What will you do?\" Verina asked, her voice cracking a bit.\n\n\"Lay low, avoid people. Hopefully, I'll make it through.\" He waved goodbye to avoid touching her.\n\n\"Good luck.\" She told him, waving weakly. They parted ways, and Verina went inside to tell Dennon that they needed to raise the alarm.\n\n. . ."
}
] | 193 | 6,948 |
249.666667 | 2019-10-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth \nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe warrior sat still with hands resting on his lap. A gaze wandered around the room, taking in the sights to kill time while he awaited her return. \n\nA smile greeted Amaryllis when she emerged into the room, carrying a tray in her hands. \"It smells great!\" Said the warrior, nodding once. A steady gaze followed after the tray she sat down on the table and watched her return to her seat. \n\nMelkaire's hand reached out, taking the cup of coffee in his hands. The cup was lifted up to his nostrils that began to flex when he sniffed at the scents that radiated from it.\n\n\"Smells good.\" He remarked, lifting the cup slowly to his lips and took a sip."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Belladonna of Taemar\nIbethiel Countryside\n\nIt was a quiet and sunny morning. As the horse that Belladonna rode calmly went down the path, she gave a small piece of dried meat to the pitch black raven on her shoulder.\n\n\"Merla, please go ahead and take a look at the path before us, okay?\"\n\nThe raven bowed her head and flew up high in the clear blue sky. The day seemed to be so tranquil, but yet the sorceress felt like something was off.\n\nShe and her horse kept on walking down the road, but stopped when a cloud of smoke rose from a patch of trees quite far from them. *Must be a farmer burning what doesn't serve...* The sorceress thought to herself. As she was about to signal the horse to keep on, a breeze caressed her neatly groomed hair and brought a smell to her nose that made her almost fall to her knees. A familiar smell that was engraved in her memory, a scent that made her whole body tremble and her eyes go wide.\n\nThe deathly smell of burnt human flesh. \n\nShe rode her horse, as fast as the mare could go, towards the smoke column that emanated the stench. As soon as she arrived, she hopped off the horse and put out the fire with a spell. She swallowed hard as she saw the small pile of charred bodies. Two adults and four children of varying ages, including what must have been a baby before the flames engulfed it.\n\nBelladonna took a handkerchief from an inside pocket of her coat and used it to cover her nose and mouth, before proceeding to inspect the bodies.\n\nThe fire had only devoured half of their bodies, which helped the black haired woman observe they had been dead for some days. It couldn't have been a witch hunt, they usually were burned alive, and people in Ibethiel barely believed in magic whatsoever. Why where the bodies burned then?\n\nThe black hand of one of the children caught her attention. It looked like it had either been burned or terribly frostbiten, but the rest of the arm was intact; the flames had not yet reached that arm, and the weather wasn't cold enough for a frostbite.\n\n\"Necrosis?\" She said aloud to herself as she crouched next to the remains, her brows furrowed in confusion. She then spotted the blisters. And the rest of the family necrosed parts. \"It can't be... Oh holy Mother\"\n\nShe stood up and whistled, calling her raven back. It appeared in less than a minute. Belladonna put her arm up and the raven posed on her arm\n\n\"Go to the coven, inforn them a plague is in Ibethiel\" The raven nodded and flew away, straight to Taemar."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis quietly sipped on her tea and ate a few pieces of fruit. She was a bit hungry, but didn't want to pig out in front of Melkaire.\n\n\"You said you've never had tea before... Want to try a sip of mine? It's Earl Grey tea. Very good.\" She said and smiled."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe warrior, for all his might and bravado, felt awkward. These types of interactions were far beyond his experience. Usually his time with the fairer sex was usually brief, or unable to be recalled due to inebriation. The result was usually the same, a few less coins out of his purse every time. Enough to satisfy the man's needs, companionship was not something thought of often, for it was the belief that such was beyond his grasp, and yet, this Seer saw otherwise. \n\nHe cupped the cup of coffee in his hands, staring down into the heated, black liquid, making out the faint visage of his own reflection staring up at him. Worn, weathered digits slowly caressed the exterior of the mug, unsure of what to say, how to act. His thoughts raced with wonder when he heard Amaryllis cutting through the silence with her dulcet tone. \n\nA few rapid blinks of the eyes dispelled the thousand yard stare, his head lifted and turned, setting the sights to her visage and the cup of tea she held in her hand. Head tilted to the side while he regarded her cup, contemplating on an answer in the space of a breath. \n\n\"Aye!\" He exclaimed, \"I will try a sip!\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis soon offered her mug to him and smiled. She was a bit surprised that he said yes to trying it. She figured he would be too shy. \n\n\"Here you are. I hope you like it, dear. I think it's better than coffee at times.\" She said and smiled.\n\nShe looked at Melkaire and blushed lightly, enjoying his company very much. She scooted closer to him, closing the space between them."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe cup of coffee he held within his grasp was slowly moved to the nearby table, sitting it down so that his hands could be freed to take the mug filled with the heated, herbal beverage from her grasp. Shifting in place, he brought the cup he held with both hands, hovering it just below his nose to allow him to take in the scent of the drink just before lifting the rim to touch the bottom swell of his lip, tilting upward. Small, careful sips were taken from the contents before the mug. Swallowing the liquid, he stared ahead while the beautiful red haired woman closed the distance between them. He contemplated the taste- how it registered, how it tasted to him, how pleasurable it was. After a few seconds, he smiled, and started nodding his head as the mug was handed back to her. \n\n\"It is delicious!\" He remarked as the tea was offered back to her. It wasn't a long reach, given how close she to him. \"To think... I have gone for so very long without trying it.\" He let out an amused scoff as his head dipped downward. \"Mother was right.\" Soft words nearly hidden by a chortle passed through his lips, \"I have not experienced enough in life.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis giggled and took the drink back from him. \"Sweet, creamy, and an earth and floral after taste. It's quite a perfect drink to me, besides whiskey.\" She said with a smile. \n\nAmaryllis notes his excitement for the drink as well as him reminiscing, as he had done most of the night. He seemed to care very much about his family, especially his mother. She enjoyed this, taking another note that her reading was quite accurate.\n\nAmaryllis sipped the tea a few times before placing it on the table. She was still nervous about being this close, and felt she needed to be open. \n\n\"I'm going to be frank with you. I... Ive never had a man in my home. A customer, yes, but never invited one in for a drink or anything more. This is a first for me...\""
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe warrior's weathered hand relinquished the cup into her grasp. She cited words that defined the varying tastes that tickled his palate. He fell silent, reaching for the coffee mug from the surface of the table, taking it in back in the hold of his hand, and withdrew to lean back against the seat. \"Whiskey is good. I am more of a mead fan, myself.\" He returned idly, lifting the cup up to his lips and taking in another sip.\n\nSilence was shared between them otherwise as the two awkwardly sipped their heated beverages. Melkaire's mind raced with things to say, how to act, what was proper in situations such as these. Confusion riddled his mind while he tried to make sense of it. Only when he heard the woman speak, all semblance of thought came to a screeching halt with her admittance. \n\nPulling the mug away from his mouth, Melkaire turned to look upon her with widened eyes to measure the surprise he was feeling. Indeed, he was hard pressed to believe her. A woman like her nearly needed to wink and beckon with a wave of finger to ensnare some man to fall for her. \n\n\"Truly?\" He looked back down at the cup of coffee. \"I suppose then that I should feel honored.\" A warm smile was presented, \"This is a bit of a first for me as well.\" In a matter of speaking. Most of his interactions with the fairer sex didn't involve much talking. \n\n\"You have a lovely home, and I am grateful for your invitation. Your tea is quite good and the company is very enjoyable! I never really had the chance to sit and talk with anyone.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis bit her lip at this and nodded. \"Well, we can talk, always. You will always be welcome here. But um...\" She began to trail of, her gaze meeting his once again. \n\nShe sat her mug down and began to twiddle her thumbs. She was pondering what she would say next and how to phrase it. She didn't want to seem too forward.\n\n\"Do you like dancing?\" She suddenly asked, her face red from the sudden blurt. She clearly had more in mind for them to do, not wishing for their time together to end."
}
] | 202 | 2,247 |
170.333333 | 2019-10-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nMelkaire felt perplexed as to why she bit her lip. The meaning behind the gesture was unknown to him— and yet, he could not deny that there was something... Attractive about it. \"I am not sure what I have done to earn such kindness,\" Humbled, he dipped his bearded chin slightly, \"But I am grateful for it.\"\n\nBetween the sips of coffee, he watched as she started to fidget nervously. It confused him as to why she did it, suspecting that his stature was intimidating. It wouldn't of been the first time.\n\nA look of wonder spawned upon his weathered features in the wake of her inquiry. It was the first time anyone asked him such a thing. Ignorant of her intent, he found himself enjoying the company, but the itch to discover the truth to the reading she gave him prior began to make itself known. \n\n\"I have never danced before.\" He admitted with a smile and a slight roll of shoulders. \"The need to learn never came up.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis nodded and smiled softly. She figured that this would be the perfect opportunity to teach him, if he wanted to, of course.\n\n\"Well, I could teach you, if you would like. I have a phonograph. We could play some music.\" \n\nAmaryllis was hoping that he would say yes, but was preparing for him to decline. *A man like him? Why would he want to dance?*"
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Mellaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\n\"Teach me?\" Melkaire's right hand slowly peeled away from the coffee mug, at which point, his finger turned upward towards himself. He appeared perplexed at first, only a moment's breath taken in passing caused features to soften. \n\n\"A phonograph?\" Asked Melkaire as he looked around the room in effort to spot the contraption. \"I suppose it could not hurt to learn something new.\" He replied, looking rather embarrassed as he gazed down to his large, booted feet. \"I fear I may step on your toes or worse. You see, I am a large man. I have big feet. It is hard to be aware of one's reach during the best of times.\""
}
] | 168 | 511 |
118.666667 | 2019-10-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis walked over and placed a worn record on the contraption and cranked it, powering it up. Soon, a soft harp and wind instruments filled the room with a slow and soft melody. \n\n\"Just be slow and follow my lead. Place on hand on my waste and another in my hand. Since I can't reach your shoulder, I will rest my hand on your chest.\""
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth \nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAs she departed from the seat, the warrior rose to stand from the sofa, standing idly by. Gaze trailed after the red haired woman while she approached a strange contraption and after a few moments, musical notes started to flood the interior of the room.\n\nMelkaire stepped closer at her invitation, his features riddled with confusion. \"Uh... Alright.\" He returned with a hint of nervousness held within his tones. A sheepish gaze was drawn downward, looking her over. One hand lowered to cup the side of her waist while it's counterpart moved to take her hand, his larger hand encompassing hers while he glanced down over her. \"Forgive me if I step on your toes.\""
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis nodded and smiled up at him, trying to reassure him. \"You'll do great! You can look down at your feet the first few times. First, you step forward, causing me to step back.\"\n\nLeading the dance, Amaryllis soon took a step backwards, hoping that he would follow."
}
] | 103 | 356 |
188 | 2019-10-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\n\"Oh dear.\" Melkaire muttered. She could feel the trembling hesitation in his grasp, afraid that applying too much pressure may crush the poor woman's hand. An audible gulping sound resonated from his throat, and glanced downward to his feet that utterly dwarfed her own in size. \"Easy for you to say, your feet do not take up so much space!\" He returned, chuckling nervously. \n\nFeeling her pull, he moved forward, taking a much smaller distance out of utter fear that he'd step on her toes. The trip at her hip tightened somewhat in an unknowing reaction. It only made it that much more obvious of the warrior's current emotional state. In his mind, he pondered over the irony- how could a man that faced any battle like it was his last, and remain totally focused, was struggling so with a smaller, red-haired woman that was teaching him how to dance. \n\n\"Like this?\" He asked, seeking reassurance. If this didn't end *Horribly*, he'd consider himself blessed."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis giggled softly at him getting nervous. She thought it was cute that he cares so much about her safety of his big boots. \n\n\"Yes, that's good. But, you need to relax more. When you get to a real dance with someone, you need to be smooth and flow easily to the music. Granted, you'd probably be more comfortable around that person. Now, we will step to your right, my left.\"\n\nAmaryllis then led him to step to his right, looked up at him as she saw his nervousness. She couldn't help but feel that she was torturing this poor man, but he knew nothing of romance!\n\n\"And don't forget to breathe!\" She taunted and giggled"
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth \nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe woman's giggles did little in aiding the ease of nervousness. Indeed, a measure of concern was afforded with each and every movement. He was all but certain a misplaced step would break a toe. He traded off from gazing at her face and to her feet as they moved, ever mindful of his steps.\n\n\"So, it is like battle, only you are not trying to drive your weapon through someone?\" He inquired, trying to find a comparison that would aid in his understanding. How anyone could move so fluidly without fear of stepping on toes or knocking something over was beyond him.\n\nHe held his breath as she led his movements to the right, slightly tensing. So preoccupied with worry that he would knock something over or hurting her, he hadn't realized he was still holding his breath, until she made mention of it. He let out his exhaling breath slowly, finding rhythm in his breathing once again.\n\n\"My thanks for reminding me!\" He said, still moving along with her to the music."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis shrugged a little, then nodded. \"I guess it could be put to terms like that. Dancing is like a battle to the heart. Usually, it's with someone you love and you want to show them how you feel. Or it can be just for fun, like a bonding experience.\" She said and smiled. \n\nShe then moved forward, indicating for him to move back. She was silently directing him, seeing if he would catch on."
}
] | 200 | 752 |
175.8 | 2019-10-15 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe warrior of might and brawn moved with her. Though perhaps not meeting the grace in which the woman moved with her own steps. He was abrupt, stiff, unable to let loose and move gracefully. He moved as indicated nevertheless, always with the quick trading glances that moved between her and his own feet, still brandishing a nervous expression on rugged features. \n\n\"Wait. There's *More* To it?\" He inquired, looking lost. \"So... What you are saying is... We make the same steps, but we turn about as we do it?\" His features began to pale slightly. \"I hope that I do not trip over anything.\" Or accidentally toss her somewhere with a fumble due to his own lack of coordination, but he wasn't going to speak on that. At all.\n\n\"I will try!\" He said, baring a hopeful tone to accented words."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis giggled at his surprise. \"Of course there is more. There is also more dancing styles, but I won't be able to teach them all to you. You just need to know this one.\" She said and smiled widely. \n\nShe slowly began to take steps, taking shorter steps and turning her body to guide him into the small circles. She was being patient with him."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient shop in Hexrakes**\n\nIt was a good thing she was showing patience in this endeavor, for teaching a man like Melkaire how to dance was a difficult task. One may find it simply easier to climb the tallest peak in all of Marin. \n\nSo many dance styles, and he was struggling just to learn this one. The mere thought was enough to overwhelm his mind, to think that if he struggled so much with this one, others would be an outright nightmare. \n\nFollowing the suggestions of her lead, he attempted to flow with her as she turned her body and bode him to follow. He did as much as he could, practically shuffling his feet along the floor while moving. It was here that mistakes were the most likely to happen, and that unsettled him more than anything."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis took note of how nervous he was and soon stopped. She then looked up at him and rubbed his arms in a reassuring manner.\n\n\"You're doing so well, Melkaire! Relax and breathe. You won't hurt my toes. I trust that won't happen. You're okay.\" She said, trying to get him to simmer his mind. He was so tense."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nOh, the warrior was tense indeed, beyond measure of imagination— and for many different reasons. He did his best to move, catching himself nearly stepping on the tips of her toes and retracted his foot immediately, the jerking caused him to almost lose balance, which caused his face to turn red. The gesture of her hands rubbing gently along his arms was indeed soothing to some extent, but not nearly enough to allow all tension to ebb fully.\n\n\"Th-thanks.\" He returned, more nervous than before. He knew he nearly slipped, even with her encouragement. So preoccupied with not trying to embarrass himself, he failed to find the fun in it. Still, he appreciated her trying. Perhaps with more practice, his nervousness would ease, or he'd outright refuse to try dancing again. \n\n\"You move good. You could be a capable warrior.\" He praised. It was true, she was fluid with her movements. A blade in her hand would make her deadly indeed."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis blushed and shook her head. \"Thank you, but I'm more of a pacifist.\" She said and giggled. \n\nSeeing him still nervous, she went over to the phonograph and lifted the needle, so it would stop reading the record. She figured he would just want to relax now. But she wasn't quite finished with him.\n\nShe walked back over and stood on the tips of her toes and planted a gently, yet genuine kiss on his cheek. \n\n\"Would you like something stronger to drink? Wine, whiskey, ale?\" She asked him."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\n\"Aye. I am a pacifist, too.\" He remarked, smiling slight. \"If they try to harm me, I pass-a-fist through their head!\" A mild boast, one made in jest. It was enough to illicit some form of laughter from the warrior. \n\nShe slid from his grasp, moving towards the strange machine and shutting off the music. A ping of guilt washed over him, she was trying to show him something nice, but he obviously was nervous enough for her to notice. A bashful act of his right hand moved to the back of his head, rubbing it gently. \n\nUpon her return, his hand fell from his head, bringing arm hanging limp at his side. There, he froze, watching as she closed the distance between them and rose to stand on her toes, placing a warm press of lips to his bearded cheek. A small measure of relief washed over him like a tide, allowing him to let out a long exhale and relaxed slightly. \n\n\"Whiskey. That sounds good.\" He returned her inquiry with a response of his own, whilst nodding firmly. He needed a drink after that, he was far too sober for this."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis nodded and got up, getting the dishes from their snacks and drinks from earlier to the kitchen to wash. Which, she would do later.\n\nShe soon poured them both tall glasses of whiskey and returned. She handed him his glass and sipped hers. She was excited to see him loosening up.\n\nAmaryllis was a bit afraid that the gentle kiss would have been a bit too forward, but it seemed to just be enough for him to relax, which excited her. \n\n\"What I just did... The kiss. Was that too much?\" She asked, nervous about her actions. If felt right in the moment, but she wanted to make sure."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nThe Warrior stood in silence, watching her movements that led her from taking their belongings towards the kitchen. A nervous gaze moved about the room, his hand reached upward once more to rub at the back of his head. \n\nSounds of rummaging came from in the back towards the kitchen, filling the silence. Melkaire began to wander slow and aimlessly around the room. Drawing his gaze over to this and that, passing by the time as he awaited her return. Clasping his hands behind his back, he examined the decoration while thoughts trailed on the task ultimately at hand- discovering his birth parents. He needed to see them face to face. \n\nWhen she returned, he paused, and turned his head to the side, regarding her with a welcoming smile. Gaze lowered to the glasses of whiskey she held, eyeballing them intently. The prospect of enjoying some of the local spirits to help him with relaxing was a splendid notion. The woman was kind indeed. \n\nMelkaire's hand reached up to cup the side of his face. \"The kiss? No. It was only on the cheek. A friendly gesture, that.\" He dismissed the notion of her concern. It was innocent enough of an act, at least it was a kind one."
},
{
"author": "cr4zeed3z",
"message": "**Amaryllis Sage\nSage's Gallipot and Sentient Shop in Hexrakes**\n\nAmaryllis nodded stood close to him. She bit her lip slightly. \"How would you feel if the kiss was elsewhere?\" She asked and smirked slightly. It was very obvious that she was flirting now, if it wasn't before.\n\nShe knew that she was being forward now, even seeming fearless. However, she was very attracted to him and didn't want to not take a chance. He was still here, after all."
}
] | 168 | 1,758 |
580 | 2019-10-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nStreets of Hexrakes, Ibethiel**\n\nBright sunlight greeted the warrior as he stepped out from the doorway of the Reader's building. Enthralled by the experience, he bid the kind host farewell, promising to return before closing the door behind him. It was a grand experience, something so far beyond what was normal. The Reader certainly left an impression on him, one that altered his perception of life itself to a significant degree. There was, however, a more pressing endeavor, to see with his own two eyes if the words the Seer spoke regarding his birth parents had any truth to them. \n\nTurning away from the building, he pressed onward down along the cobblestone street. Hands grasped tightly at the strap that held the sheathed sword at his back, holding it close and secured to his back. During his stroll, he contemplated his next course of action. According to the red-haired Seer, his mother was married to a wealthy man while the father was an alcoholic and a hobo. The latter would be much easier to find between the two. A city like this one had no shortage of walks of life that fit the bill, and likely word of mouth would merit better results in finding the father over the mother. \n\n\"It is decided, then.\" He said to himself, coming to the notion that his best bet to start his search would be at a tavern, where many a drunkard come to indulge in their habits. Even he would be remiss in not taking the opportunity to have a drink, himself. Allowing for the lubrication of alcohol to help smooth out the process that was undertaken in trying to settle all his thoughts in his head.\n\n.\nHe passed by crowds of folks that traversed the street and the others that stood by, engaging in their own conversations. A passing glance, nothing more, was drawn to them as he treads around them in the midst of his trek. Moments of curiosity and wonder broke up the monotony. Eyes searched their faces, unbeknownst to them. He found himself wondering on the topics of their discussions, trying to hear word of anything of note. \n\nBefore long, the lone warrior made his arrival to a tavern. From the outside it looks cheerful, beautiful and enchanting. Sandstone bricks and marble details make up most of the building's outer structure. It was difficult for him to see through the windows, but the sounds of clapping and cheering from within can be felt outside.\n\nHis weathered hand reached to grasp hold of the iron handle and pressed against it to enter the tavern through the old, wooden door, and was welcomed by a pleasant atmosphere and the smell of alcohol. The bartender: a buxom woman with bronze skin and dark, sable curls was heavily burdened with orders, but still managed to greet the tall warrior with a smile and welcoming nod.\n\nIt was as charming inside as it is on the outside. Hard-wooden beams support the upper floor and the sconces attached to them. The walls are littered with so many different memorabilia, he was not sure if they tried going for a specific style at one time or just put up anything they like.\n\nThe interior of the tavern itself was packed. Workers seem to be the primary clientele here, which is probably the best clientele for the owner. Several long tables are occupied by happy, excited groups of people, some are dancing on the table, while others cheer them on with clapping and yelling. The other, smaller tables are also occupied by people who seem to be enjoying themselves a lot, perhaps too much, if such a thing is possible. Even most of the stools at the bar are occupied, though nobody seems to mind more company.\n\n.\nScanning the patrons, he gauged their demeanor, trying to ascertain who was a potential threat and who was not. Old habits die hard. He came to an eventual ease with the acknowledgement that this establishment was likely a classier place than what he had been accustomed to as a sell sword. With the proximity alone of location so deep within the capital city, he felt assured that he would be spared of the usual miscreants and thugs that were typically found in such places. \n\nAt the far end of the tavern, a still vacant table laid bare and unattended. Immediately, Melkaire pressed on, making a detour to the bar just long enough to order himself a stein of honeyed mead, and proceeded to make his way to the vacant table with stein in hand. A soft thud resounded with the placement of cask, while opposing appendage grasped at the back of a seat, pulling it back just enough to allot the space for him to lower himself to sit. A stoic expression embodied his features as he gazed out across the tavern with a weary eye. His right hand reached for the handle of his mead, lifting it to parting lips to take a sip from its contents. —"
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Belladonna of Taemar\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel\n\n\"And that, my kind sir, means I win yet again\" The sorceress announced to the table as she took the small pile of coins. She smiled to herself as she collected the coins and put them in a small sack. It was like stealing candy from a child, given that the men were dead drunk and vulnerable.\n\n\"With sssuch beauty... It norrmal\" One of the three men at the table playing cards with her said, trying really hard to make sense as he spoke.\n\n\"Oh you flatter me, mister...\" She weighted the small sack in her hand, deciding it was enough for today \"... Now I must leave\" She got up and started to leave the table when one of the men grabbed her arm. She sharply turned around, murder in her eyes.\n\n\"You cheated, I know!\" He claimed, loud enough for the tavern to go quiet.\n\n\"I won fair and square, now let go of me!\"\n\n\"You may have tricked them, but I'm smart!\" He got louder with each word he said \"You are a witch! A witch!\" He roared. She gulped. This one wasn't from Ibethiel apparently, here people barely believed in magic.\n\n\"Stop saying mad things and let go of me! NOW!\" The candles nearby started to burn with slightly larger flames, which moved violently. She saw some men and women looking up at those words, she only wished they weren't from places where magic beings were believed to be better burnt. Belladonna got ready to flee."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel**\n\nWith the dip of the bearded chin, Melkaire's gaze fell to the table, focusing on the stein. His long strands of dark brown hair fell in a cascade around the sides of his bearded face, spilling out well past his shoulders. Taken up by the sweep of inward thoughts, he idly stared ahead at the stein, contemplating his next step, what it was that he had to do. There was only so much coin he had from past exploits. Sooner or later, he'd have to look for work to keep up with the pace of life. \n\nThe clamoring voices deafened out most of the commotion until a voice rising in rage made an accusation that had rendered the crowd silent. This, in turn, earned the warrior's attention as well. His head turned, lifting his cerulean hues up to the crowd and glared through narrowing eyelids to the sight of an angry man with an equally angry grip held fast on the arm of a woman. A scowl formed on features previously stoic and emotionless. A blind reach of his hand took hold of the stein and brought it to parting lips. Several gulps were taken, drawing the contents of the stein down his throat before placing it back down, and wiped the excess from the corners of his mouth away by the back of the wrist from his other arm. \n\nMelkaire rose from his seat, pushing the chair back. The right hand gripped at the strap of the sheathed sword, sliding it over his shoulder in the midst of his walk, glaring at the angry man as he resisted the woman's protest, calling her a Witch. At the sound of her voice bellowing out in a shout, a wave of pressure was felt moving from her, pushing past him and sending the nearby candles flaring with life was not lost on him.\n\n.\nThe other two that sat at the table flashed Melkaire threatening glares. Their inebriation played against their better judgment in the way they regarded the warrior as he drew near. Undaunted by their gaze, he brazenly reached out with his right hand, grasping the man at the very same arm he held the woman by. \n\n\"Release her. Now.\" Though his accented tones remained relatively calm, one could hear the undertone of growl that rumbled forth from the depths of his throat. \"You lost because you were distracted by her looks and your drinking. It has impacted your judgment. Calling her a Witch just makes you look more like a weakminded fool.\" He stated a matter of fact, flashing a glance to the onlooking patrons that watched the scene unfold. \"Making the people here nervous.\" His eyes narrowed, applying pressure to the squeeze of his hand to his arm to encourage the man to release the Witch. \n\n\"Oi!\" Shouted a slightly portly, balding man that rose from his seat with a height that nearly matched that of Melkaire's, \"Git yer 'and off o' me friend, or they'll be—\" The man's words became cut off suddenly with a quick swing from the back of Melkaire's freed hand. The blow struck with a sound that had several cringing in reaction while they watched the man fall to the ground. Melkaire's eyes soon returned to the sore loser. Features twisting with growing irritation. \n\n\"Do as the woman says and apologize for your foolishness. There is no such thing as magic. No such thing as Witches.\" Whether it was true or not, it didn't matter. It was the common belief in Ibethiel: a factor he'd play on with the presented act of intimidation."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Belladonna of Taemar\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel\n\nAs an unknown man approached her breath quickened. *Oh great, fight time... I'm too tired for this*, she thought. Her eyes got wide in surprise as her eyebrows rose when he spoke to defend her. A smirk grew in her face. He might be human, but he was big and seemed strong, which was perfect for the situation. The punch was unexpected, but welcomed. The sorceress fixed the sleeve of her silk dress as soon as she was freed from the grasp and looked around.\n\n\"Back to your business, next round is on me for everyone\" She announced, hopping that would dissolve the tension. The crowd cheered and she sighed in relief. She turned around to face the man that just aided her, gratitute all over her face.\n\n\"As for you, may I personally invite you to your next drink, mister...?\" She left the question in the air for him to answer, as she eyed him head to toe, examining him with her reddish-brown eyes. No sign of a single drop of magic in him, as she thought. As much as she repudiated humans, her manners wouldn't let her not show gratitude towards a helping hand."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel**\n\nWhile he was not one to ever shy away from a fight from anyone or anything, Melkaire was different from others of his stature, size, and temperament. There was a strategy to his thought process; recognizing that an all-out brawl in the bar would be counterproductive, to say the least. Fortunately, just enough force that was applied was necessary to make his point across. A slow nod of the head was given to the man when the woman freed herself from his grasp and continued to stare in a threatening way as the accuser and his still conscious friend picked their companion up and off the floor, carrying him out of the tavern. \n\nEyes turned to the many faces that were watching him in a myriad of different expressions. The awkward moment was soon dispelled by the voice of the woman announcing a round of drinks for those in attendance. A deafening roar filled the interior with their cheering voices. A wave of relief and ease washed over the others that seemed quick to dismiss what had just transpired. His attention moved back to the woman with oddly yet beautiful eyes, lifting his left hand to grasp at fallen strands of his hair, and guided them to be tucked away behind his ear. \n\nThe invitation was humbling and unexpected. A subtle lift of eyebrows became the sight of his first initial reaction. A quick turn of the head had him glancing over his shoulder towards the table he sat at, eyeballing the stein that was nearly emptied. \"Aye.\" Accepted the warrior with a sound akin to a grunt, and returned cerulean eyes to behold the sight of her. \"Could always use more mead.\" He added.\n\n.\nA quick scan had his eyes slowly move over her from head to toe. She seemed well enough, aside from the discomfort of the grasp at her arm, the woman appeared no worse for wear. \"Forgive me for interfering.\" A slight bow of the head was given in offering. \"I just could not stand idly by. I did not like the look in that man's eyes. Ill intentions had among the lot of them.\" One thing he was certain of from his years was the nature of man. That look of hunger and desire had been seen by those even less savory than those that just left. With a shake of the head and a sigh, he offered a smile to the stranger. \n\n\"My table is empty if you wish to join me there.\" He invited, a casual lift of his right hand made motioning wave towards the table he was just at."
}
] | 528 | 2,900 |
316.5 | 2019-10-31 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Belladonna of Taemar\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel\n\nShe nodded and followed his lead towards the table. Something was off, his looks didn't match the costs of staying the night in the tavern, but yet here he was. Might be a gambler? She was curious.\nShe reached the man's table, despite the wave of drunk dancing and celebrating patrons they had to cross. With a couple subtle movements of her hand she kept the spilled drinks away from the dark green silk of her dress. When she's finally at her new seat, she signals the barmaid to come and turns to the man.\nShe stared at him for a moment, trying to guess who he was or where did he come from. His accent wasn't from here, that was for sure, and his actions demonstrated he might have been from one of the few places where magic was tolerated. \n\n\"May I ask the identity of my helper? You seem to be different than the local patrons, sir\"\n\nA younger version of the bartender appeared from the middle of a crowd of singing men. Her untamed dark curls were barely holding the updo she had been fixing the whole night. \"What will it be miss? Same wine as per usual?\"\n\n\"You know me well, Valentine. Yes, thank you\" Belladonna smiled warmly at the barmaid. She had been enough times through Ibethiel to make some acquaintances \"And also bring whatever this kind sir prefers to drink, please\"\n\nThe black haired sorceress reached into an inside pocket of her velvet cloak and took out her small coin sack. She grabbed a couple golden coins and handed them to the barmaid."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "Melkaire Amarth\nLocal Tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel\n\nWith her nod that issued her acceptance to his invitation, Melkaire turned on the ball of his heel, bringing his large, broad frame facing the direction of his table and set out with a bold march that caused some of the crowd to part for the sake of offering the man passage. The sounds of heavy footfalls were accompanied by the percussion of the sheathed sword that rattled gently against his back with his movements. \n\nIn the midst of his walk, he came to a pause. His head turned to the side while regarding the incident involving inebriated patrons nearly spilling their drink on the woman. Eyes narrowed as he glared at the drunk patrons and quickly shifted his gaze to the woman that followed, watching as deft movements spared her clothing from becoming soaked. \n\nSilence governed him through his return to the table, leaving himself standing while waiting for the woman to sit. He followed suit, hand grasped at the top of his chair, pulling it back. Hands gripped at the thick leather strap, sliding it over his head and off his shoulder, setting the sheathed sword to stand and lean against the table. The palm of his hand claimed the top of the pommel, where weathered digits slowly enclosed over the top. \n\nMelkaire slowly lowered into his seat, casting his sights over to the woman with intrigue, watching as her hand waved a server over to their table. In the moment she stared at him, their eyes met. Thoughts wandered in regards to her— there was certainly something about her that made her different from the norm. He surmised st the time it was just her eyes, exotic as they are.\n\nPresenting a smile, the Warrior bowed his head in a gesture of respect. \"Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier, I had no intentions of letting those listening in to know my name.\" An explanation was given as his gaze lifted once more.\n\n\"My name is Melkaire Amarth.\" He introduced formally, his tone taking on a sense of propriety. For all he knew, this woman was royalty. Her raiment certainly made her look the part to his perception. \"I am nothing special, I assure you. Just another swordsman.\" A statement that expressed his humility was offered.\n\nAt the arrival of the young male, the rugged warrior turned his attention to him, observing the familiarity that was shared betwixt the two. It offered some insight regarding the woman: she was well known, and appreciated in some regard. Enough to merit the tender acknowledging her preferred drink.\n\nWhen the woman motioned to him, the warrior bore a cordial smile for the sake of appearance. \"Honeyed mead.\" He returned abruptly, offering a nod of the head. With paymentissued, the barmaid was soon off, leaving the pair alone at the table.\n\n\"You come here often, I take it.\" An observation."
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Belladonna of Taemar\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel\n\n\"I do. It's the best place to stay in the city. I travel constantly, so I have my proper '*Friends*' in every worthy inn\" She explained as she put the sack back in a safe place \"You must know how it goes, swordsman, as you look quite experienced in travels yourself\" She looked back at the man, offering her hand afterwards \"Belladonna of Taemar, pleasure to meet you mister Amarth\""
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nLocal Tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel**\n\nA slight furrow of brow was displayed in reaction to her words. A sound tactic- one not too different from his own, though he lacked the social graces to have any '*Friends*' all throughout the land. The most of his socializing since his ascension into adulthood had mostly been through the interaction of other sell swords and courtesans. \n\n\"Aye.\" Returned the warrior with a nod of the head. Her astute observations regarding him were nothing short of impressive. She seemed to possess a knack of reading people, something he made a mental note of. \n\nThe extension of her offered hand was met with one of his own. Callused digits enveloped a smaller hand with a firm grip, and gave a hearty shake. \"An honor to meet you, Belladonna of Taemar.\" Melkaire greeted warmly, offering the woman a smile. \"And many thanks for the drink. Gods know I could use one.\""
}
] | 275 | 1,266 |
325.166667 | 2019-11-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nLocal Tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel**\n\nThe Warrior's surprise became marked by the left eyebrow rising and forming an arch that proceeded a silence that encompassed the span of several breaths. He was shocked to learn that the drunken man's accusation had merit. With a subtle shift of gaze, his sights wandered toward the candles that were near the table, recalling the brief flare of lights that responded to the resounding bellow of her voice in the midst of the altercation. The look of mild surprise waned, returning his features to a neutral expression before cerulean eyes found the sight of the Sorceress once more. \n\n\"I am not like many.\" He remarked, maintaining an air of indifference to the news he had just received. By then, the tender that the Sorceress had been familiar with returned to the table with drinks in hand, offering them a place at the table that they sat. A friendly smile and thankful nod of the head was given to the tender, keeping his silence while in the presence of another. Melkaire was uncertain who was privy to such secrets and found himself resisting making any comments due to that fact. \n\nWatching as she savored the wine, Melkaire took the opportunity to study her. A focused glare studied her carefully, attempting to differentiate what separated her from those who did not possess the capacity for magic. To the warrior, there was no striking difference that he could make a note of. To him, she could pass as any other person— which enabled the warrior to come to the realization that wielders of magic were people as well when it came down to it. People with their own hopes and dreams they long to see fulfilled. \n\n\"Sorceress or not, I felt an intervention was needed, lest the situation got worse.\" He offered a smile as his hand reached for the handle of the fresh stein of mead, and drew it up towards his lips to savor a sip. \"I suppose... I am just grateful that you did not take any offense to me stepping in.\""
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Belladonna of Taemar\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel\n\nShe felt his gaze excruciatingly observing her. The wine got put down back on the table as she looked back at him. \"You can look at me as much as you please, sir. You won't find anything useful for you...\" A half smile crept on her lips \"There's more to you than meets the eye, that's for sure\" She claimed.\n\nAfter a moment of silence amongst the busy place and taking another sip, she replied to him \"Offense? Oh goddess no, I'm too tired to use any spells. I'm glad you came and solved it quickly, otherwise this would have ended up a mess... Nature based spells indoors are just a big no\" She chuckles at the thought. A wind spell? Everything scattered. A water spell? The place soggy. A fire or earth manipulating spell? Bye tavern. The possible scenarios played momentarily in her head. \"The owners would get mad at me, and that wouldn't be beneficial for me\" She took a sip \"Enough about me, where are you from, mister Amarth?\" She asked as she rested her chin on her hand, looking at him with curiosity. Maybe he could be useful for her plans, or at least she pondered the possibility."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nLocal Tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel**\n\nAn upward curve spawned at the edge of his lips, feeling humbled by her observation. If nothing else, it helped with first impressions. Tension ebbed when she assured him, an elongated sigh sifted out from his nostrils while he settled back against the seat. Arms crossed over his barreled chest and started to nod. \"You honor me with your words.\" He returned, finding himself gradually moving into a state of ease. There, he listened to her indulge him on her reasoning for holding off on spells— the destruction it would cause and the disdain she would summon from the owner and employees weren't worth the cost. In this, he agreed. \n\nWith a smile, he unfolded his arms and leaned forward, placing arms at the edge of the table. \"Please, call me Melkaire. There is no need to be formal, not with the likes of me. I am no nobleman.\" He flashed her a grin in hopes to ease any tension. \"I was raised here in Ibethiel. I was taken in by a pair of kind souls when I was just a baby. They raised me as their own ever since.\" A bit of personal history was offered up to her. It couldn't hurt the way he saw it. His brows furrowed as he thought on it more. \"A few years ago, I was told by my parents that they were not my real parents. They found me in the woods in the Northern lands, bundled in furs and left among snow and trees. Since then, I have set out into the world, trying to find answers myself. The only way I could finance my travel was by being a sellsword.\" Melkaire shrugged.\n\n.\nWith a reach of the hand, he took up the stein and took another drink from the contents of the stein. \"I found a palm reader... A seer of sorts earlier in the day. She told me that my birth parents lived. My mother was wed to some wealthy man while my father was a drunk living on the more rough side of life.\" His gaze began to wander the crowd. \"Whether there was truth to her words or no, I wanted to see for myself. Figured a tavern such as this one could be a place where I could start my search. And it seems now by chance, I have crossed paths with a Sorceress.\" Letting out an amused chortle, the warrior shook his head. \"It has been an interesting day.\" He remarked before taking another sip from his mead.\n\n\"What about you?\""
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Belladonna of Taemar\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel\n\nShe listened closely to his words, making a mental note of his story. She could feel a bit of vulnerability oozing off of him, but didn't feel that her spell was needed for obtaining information from him. She was a bit startled when he asked about her. Nobody ever asked.\n\nShe blinked fast a couple times as her eyebrows rose in surprise. She gulped the sip of wine she was tasting and answered.\n\n\"Well, *Melkaire*... I'm from one of the covens from Taemar, hence my name. I left because I'm on a mission, although I communicate frequently with them. After the inquisition and the witch hunts, we...\" Her eyes got lost in the memories of the past, fixed on her drink \"We all just kind of hid there, because Taemerian people accept us somewhat kindly, you know... \" Her voice slowly faded as words came out of her mouth. A memory of fire and screams flashed before her eyes and she shook her head to come back to reality. She looked back at the sellsword and smiled.\n\n\"Didn't know there were still magic practicioners around here... It's not a bad place to hide. They don't even believe in magic\" She joked. Her eyes still showed remnants of the sudden fear that filled her head instants ago."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nLocal Tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel**\n\nThe warrior remained still in his seat, his attention rapt to her every word. While she regaled him a tale of her own past, Melkaire found himself growing intrigued by it. Curious to learn more. Witches and their covens were things beyond his realm of knowledge. Magic, itself evidently embodied a layer to the surface of the world and of life. \n\n\"I was not much of a believer myself until I observed the flames of candles respond to your voice.\" His head shook before he leaned forward, his rough tone coming just above a whisper: \"If that is not magic, then I do not know what is!\" He stated before settling back. Belladonna of Taemar was intriguing to him, between meeting a Sorceress and a seer beforehand, he couldn't help but feel the day was becoming auspicious. \n\n\"It is strange. I would surmise most would have fear of something so unknown. But yours is a kind face, I see no reason to fear it.\" He shrugged, \"Tell me, Belladonna of Taemar, what is this mission of yours?\""
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Belladonna of Taemar\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel\n\n\"Oh! The candles did that? I didn't notice...\" She felt flattered, her ego rising ever so slightly. She discreetly groomed her soft dark brown curls as she chuckled, listening to him.\n\nThe rough-looking man looked like one of those guards you wouldn't wish to cross paths with, one of those who could easily send you to the other side of the veil if desired; but inside? Friendly Melkaire made the impression on the sorceress of a gullible good man. One of the few humans worthy of not being classified as scum.\n\n\"Oh dear...\" She slowly shook her head no \"Never trust a kind face. I could be a murderer for all you know\"\n\nBelladonna decided to ignore the last question, as it would cause quite the conmotion."
}
] | 281 | 1,951 |
256.333333 | 2019-11-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nLocal Tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel**\n\nBeheld in silence and observation, a subtle arch of his left eyebrow expressed the mental note he was making at the fact that Belladonna seemed surprised that the candles responded to her power. His expression soon shifted back to a more neutral state but a moment after. With reaching hand, he took hold of the handle of the stein, taking another drink from it's contents. A soft chortle resonated from him while the stein withdrew from his lips, bemusement forming across his rugged visage. \n\n\"...And I *Could* Be a witch hunter.\" He winked. \"I mean, how many men do you know that would react so calmly to such an admittance?\" A wry smile formed at his lips, indulging with another sip of mead. \"I am not, though, so you do not need to fret over it.\" Melkaire started to chuckle, settling back into his seat. The question went remained unanswered. Likely the woman had her reasons— or simply it just wasn't any of his business. Either way, Melkaire didn't find it prudent to press the matter further. \n\nAnother surveying gaze moved over the sight of the Sorceress. The allure of her beauty aside, he couldn't help but feel that there was an air of confidence about her, in spite of such dangerous circumstances. It gave him the impression that the woman was courageous- something he could admire. \n\n\"I suppose it matters little. We are what we do. Actions define us.\""
},
{
"author": "witchwithissues",
"message": "Belladonna of Taemar\nLocal tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel\n\nEven though her gaze was fixed on the busy crowd, she again felt his eyes examining her closely. Not like the men she often lured, but more like a calculating observant. She was sure nothing scaped him easily.\n\n\"Oh, a witch hunter?\" She proceeded to laugh as she shook her head no \"Oh dear no, no\" She did a dismissive gesture with her hand and looked at him \"Listen, I can spot them *Bastards* Anywhere, any time, in any situation possible. When something wants to turn you into prey, you hunt them before they can catch you\"\n\nShe stayed silent for a bit, listening to him as she finished her wine.\n\n\"*We are what we do*...\" A hint of nostalgia weighed in her voice as the ghost of a sad smile got drawn on her lips \"Funny, that's what mom said. Didn't work for her though\" She said the last part as she sighed."
},
{
"author": "thesyn1calone",
"message": "**Melkaire Amarth\nLocal Tavern in Hexrakes, Ibethiel**\n\n\"I should hope so.\" Melkaire returned with a soft chortle. Taking another drink of his mead, he lifted his empty hand, offering a wave of dismissal. \"In either case, I am not among them. If magic exists, then it is meant to do so. Who am I to challenge the order of things?\" The warrior shrugged and took yet another drink. \"Still, a wise approach. Least you have no need to fear them, not while I am here.\" He offered. Damned if he was going to let someone disrupt good company.\n\n\"Your mother sounded wise.\" He observed as hands clasped together and sat at the edge of the table. There was an air of melancholy about her that hadn't gone unnoticed, however subtle, however brief. The heavy sigh said it all, she didnt need to elaborate on it anymore. An expression of sympathy bore to his grizzled face, offering a slight frown. \n\n\"Sometimes... People do not want to see the truth. They want to see their own truth.\""
}
] | 232 | 769 |
225 | 2020-11-02 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Borders of Ibethiel, Mountain ranges.\n\nAfter a few hours, the two young man were still riding along the their way, trying to follow the route that the knight was following with.. But it seemed like the journey was far from over. The two still had a long way to go. It was still early, but the sun found a comfortable place in the sky. It was truly beautiful out here.\n\nThey would find themselves in a rather lengthy forest with a wide clearing in the distance. The trees were a bit skinny compared to what they were usually used to, and the leaves were skinned, only leaving the trees with the trunk and branches. The northern sun had already rose to a illuminated state. It was frigid, but the sun that beamed down above them had made it less frozen... Only a little though. \n\nThere was a massive, large green plain lands a great distance ahead, many of many miles away lies before them. Bryan had exchange some breath during the trip, he has yet to get used to the mountains environment despite all of these years he has been traveling across the middlelands.\n\n\" Why did you want to come here again? \" Bryan asked, assuming Kiervan was riding on his left side. It's been quite sometimes during the trip since they has talk. After all, a small conversation should able to ease the boring of this trip at least."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Kiervan Czerich, great plains of Ibethiel\n\n\"I am a scholar, I travel where scholars are needed,\" He answered.\n\nBut then he took his time to gaze upon the horizon and added:\n\n\"I guess it is an excuse to travel. In my...―he paused―... In my homeland, people don't tend to get out of their villages. If they allow their imagination to tread the lands of Marin, it is from the comfort of a desk, with imported books and scrolls narrating the lives and happenings of the outside.\nI wanted to see everything with my own eyes.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\" Uh-huh.\" That was his response to the yound lad, or he should be call, \"Scholar\" Instead. \" I respected you for doing these kind of job. I guess.\" He said, and respectively nodded at the young man words. Preserving the history, the cultures was indeed a good act to do so. So, that the next generation before them knows how it did it look and felt like. \n\nAs they continued to rode on for hours that came upon their journey, the two soon reaches the bottom of the mountain hills. By the time they did, it was afternoon already. Lies before them was the grassy shrub biome and back in the familiar flatlands that Bryan remember so well in his memories.\n\nThe top of the Sun began to peek slightly above the horizon, giving the two a warmer complexion as the air became more chilly. \" We should get going then.\" The knight pointed out, surveying the surroundings around him. \" If we're gonna make it to Hexrakes in time, then we should able to arrive at midnight. \" He stated, looking back at the scholar behind him with a smile before turning his attentions straight forward once again.\n\n\" Hya! \" Onwards went the enthusiastic knight. The horses carrying the supplies around it in their satchels were the loudest of all, bumping around and clanking like broken relics that still manages to stay intact. The flatlands were fertile for sure. The two make their way across a few farmers who tends to their land."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "'Felix Reed', Hexrakes\n\nA full moon stood proud over the Hexraki nightscape. This made Kiervan Czerich, no... Felix Reed of the Melsoh, happy. Full moons, flocks of migratory birds... He had been taugh to see them as good omens. Deep down, the Azaryan did not believe in such superstitions, but he indulged in the symbolim behind altering his mood to match the signs and portents.\nThis is why, when he saw the shady inn that advertised itsefl as \"The Rusty Pail\", he knew that was his lucky place.\n\nHe turned towars the knight. \"I feel that place would be enough to spend the night and recover. Though I would understand if you would consider such place to be below a knight, such as yourself.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Hexrakes\n\nThe knight glances at the full moon stood above him. It was beautiful for sure. It was perhaps one of the most things he had seen from the moon in his life. Bryan rode along the route towards Hexrakes, the Capital City of Ibethiel. Of course, by the time they arrived, it was already in the middle of the night. He and along Kiervan, the young lad he was accompanying with, decided to stay in a tavern nearby.\n\nBryan gets off his horse and stretches his arms out for a moment. They were riding horses all day along. He felt a bit exhausted from the long trip. \" Nah, it's fine. \" He replied, as he looked back at the young scholar with a smile. \" I'm used to living in these kind of places despite of my status. \" He stated and chuckles for a moment.\n\nGiving his surroundings a look for a moment, he was assuring that no one has follow them during their trip. \" You'll go in first.\" He suggested. \" I'll come inside soon.\" He said."
}
] | 231 | 1,125 |
138.666667 | 2020-11-03 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Kiervan Czerich, Hexrakes\n\nThe Azarian scholar, now turned Taemish meister, pused the doors.\n\nInside, they saw what could only be described as a a gathering of shady individuals at best, and a wretched hive of scum and villainy at worst.\n\nAll eyes were on them as they made their way to the counter. They were surely a strange sight... Kiervan looked like a hermit from the deep forests, but his demeanor was unfittingly regal for his humble appearence. The knight was no less intriguing: it wasn't often that a scion of noble houses would descend to a place that could be considered part of the criminal underworld.\n\n\"My name is Felix Ravenloft Reed,\" He announced to the innkeeper. \"The Sir by my side is Bryan Verandus. We would like to stay for a couple days.\"\n\nHe made the payment entirely in copper coins. He seemed to have a surplus of then."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "After Kiervan entered the place, Bryan shortly followed behind him for a moment later. He was getting a bit tired as he let out a quiet yawn as he closed the door behind him. \n\nBryan took the appearance of a young man, who was seems to be in his mid-twenties. His attire was fully consisted of chain mails around. Beneath the chain mail, he wore cotton shirts and sweatpants for sure. He had plated armor around his shoulder and also wore a red cape around him. On the cape, its show his own coat of arms. A image of yellow phoenix upon it. \n\nAs Kiervan introduced themselves to the man at the counter after walking up to it, the knight stood beside Kiervan as he did an respectful bow to the man that they were having a conversation with."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Felix Reed, The Rusty Pail.\n\n\"I assume you still have some rooms available,\" Said the young meister. \"And I hope pets are allowed.\"\n\nFrom behind the traveller's shoulder, a black cat eyed the innkeeper."
}
] | 168 | 416 |
113.333333 | 2020-11-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "-Sir Hubert \"The Bright\" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).\n\nHubert entered the the tavern, walking slowly. Clearly not in any hurry. He wore a long grey cloak over his attire making it difficult to judge his societal status in his clothing. \nHe lowered his hood, revealing an old man, with watchful eyes darting across the room. He made his way over to a table near the bar, and sat down."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Kiervan Czerich, the rusty pail\n\nThe inkeeper said the rooms were not ready. \"You'll have to wait,\" He explained.\n\nAnd, so after informing Sir Bryan of the situation, he went on to sit at one of the tables.\n\nEven at this hour, none were empty. Perhaps it was to be expected: just as most animal predators wait until the sun sets, so do human predators come out at night.\n\nHe sat in front of an old man. At first glance he looked less dangerous than the rest. Only too late did he remembered to beware an old man in a profession were people usually die young."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "-Sir Hubert \"The Bright\" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).\n\nIt took a moment until Hubert noticed the fellow sitting across from him, Hubert appeared to be in deep thought, and it took him a moment to snap back.\n\n\"Its cold tonight, isn't it?\"\n\nHubert took his gloves off, and rubbed his cold hands together.\nNow that his gloves were off, there were was a clearly visible signet ring, the markings were un-identifiable, but the ring itself was bright blue.\n\n\"Excuse my manners, how are you?\""
}
] | 118 | 340 |
190 | 2020-11-06 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Kiervan Czerich, the rusty pail\n\n\"I'm... Fine\"\n\nHe had not expected the man in fron of him to actually speak. In his mind, the old bandit was part of the decor.\nNot only that, but the unusual courtesy caught him off guard. He then noticed the signet: a ring similar to the one Sir Bryan had.\nSo not a bandit, but a... Knight?\nThis was unusual.\n\n\"My name is Felix Far-Farer Ravenloft Reed, I'm a travelling meister in search of employment,\" He said. \"It's my first time visiting Ibethiel, so I'm tired and coinless ―that was a lie, but this was a bandit tavern― but still healthy, thanks to the Hog.\n\nWhat about you, sir? What has brought tonight to this table?\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Rusty Pail, Hexrakes. \n\nSir Bryan swept the dust below a table off with his hand as he inspected how clean it was while Kiervan was still discussing their rooms with the owner. He shrugged as he let out a blow to swipe off the dust that was on his fingers while he kept on examining the table before him. The bronze ring that he wore around his middle finger shines eerily. The signet on it represents him as a Knight of Ibethelian. It was a way to represent his status as a knight. \n\nHe noticed a man had come inside the room a few seconds ago, but Bryan didn't hold any attention at all as he assumed it was a common commoner or sort. Until when he heard Kiervan said, \" *Sir.* \". That's where it's got his attention. He slowly turned and looked who it was. \n\n\nIt was an old man he saw, as the elder revealed his face as he wore a cloak with him. He was talking with Kiervan, it seems. The cloak he wore was a simple one though, with no insignia upon it. But Bryan noticed the ring on the elder's hands after he took off his gloves. Bryan took a glimpse and quickly realized what the signet meant. Something that Bryan knew so well.\n\nHe held a deep breath before respectively nodded his head for a moment. But he didn't make any moves at all. He decided to wait patiently until the two were done with their conversation or sort. Unless, he was called out by them. He grabbed an empty cup and suited himself as he poured it in with a jar of water nearby. He drank it afterwards."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "-Sir Hubert \"The Bright\" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).\n\n\"Well met. I am Hubert, you have quite the title young man.\n\nHubert smiled heartily.\n\n\"Tired and coinless? A bad combination. Well, it shouldn't be too hard to find employment here.\"\n\nA moment later, a tavern wench brought Hubert a mug of, what you presumed to be ale, the mug itself was crooked and grimy. Hubert didn't seem to be bothered by this, and grabbed the mug, taking a sip. The froth coated his beard.\n\n\"What is a- meister?\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"A scholar, a man of wisdom, an artisan whose expertise are teaching other craftsmen the laws of nature.\nAs for my name...\"\n\nReed seemed amused by the question.\n\n\"I was born in the bogs of Taemar. It is tradition that our deeds and quirks earn us Shitblood titles.\n\nFelix Reed is my name of birth, but I have an affinity for ravens, to the point some say I can speak to them.\n\nI am thus, Felix Ravenloft Reed.\n\nOr at least I was until I decided to leave my marshy homeland, and gained a new title.\n\nTherefore, I am now Felix Far-Farer Ravenloft Reed.\"\n\nThe young man directed his attention towards the signet. Then, he leaned forward, covering his mouth eith his hands.\n\n\"And who are you, Hubert?\" He asked."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "-Sir Hubert \"The Bright\" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).\n\n\"You can- speak to Ravens?\" \n\nHubert scratched his chin, processing what had been said.\n\n\"In all my years I've never heard of such a thing, I'm almost tempted to call you a con.\nRegardless, that's quite the tale.\"\n\nHubert took another sip from the oaken mug and spoke.\n\n\"I am Sir Hubert Horace of Ibethiel\"\n\nHubert almost beamed at speaking his official title, he clearly valued it greatly.\nThough he did not expect recognition, his house and name had fallen into obscurity decades ago."
}
] | 171 | 950 |
74.666667 | 2020-11-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Kiervan Czerich, the rusty pail\n\nSir Hubert Horace... Knights. There were no knights in Azarya. The idea of a warrior-caste had never taken root on the country, despite many attempts to create one.\n\n\"I see. And what brings you here Sir Hubert? It is not usual to see a knight in a place like this.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "As the conversation went on more, the young knight decided to make his move. He slowly approaches the duos who were sitting at the tables nearby. His cape swings as he walks. \" It seems that you two are having a good conversation, \" He pointed out as he stood before them and smiled. He took a step back as he bowed to the elderly knight. \n\n\" Sir. \" The young knight welcomed him as he dimly grinned at him."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"This here is Sir Hubert Horace. We were discussing the reasons behind our travels,\" Said the meister. He then turned to face the old knight, and raised a hand to introduce the young one. \"Sir Hubert, I present you Sir Bryan Verandus.\""
}
] | 76 | 224 |
90.083333 | 2020-11-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"We are. Sir Bryan is coming back to his homeland, while I'm here to look for a way to earn my living. With some luck, a noble or the royal bureaucracy could use the skills of a meister.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\" Just minding my own business,\" The young knight said as he respectfully nodded. \" I accompany this man on the way since I didn't mind about it. \" He pointed out."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "-Sir Hubert \"The Bright\" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).\n\n\"Very kind of you young sir Bryan.\"\n\nHubert smiled, reminiscing an event ages past.\n\n\"Felix, have you had any luck finding work here? I'd offer you a position at my county, but I'm not sure what I'd need your services for exactly.\"\n\nHubert once more, sipped at his mug of ale."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"A meister can do many things: I can keep track of taxation, mananage finances and spending, or act as a political advisor. I'm also well versed in the arts of medicine.\n\nI came here planning on visiting the royal bureau tomorrow, but your offer is tempting.\n\nHow is your county like, Sir Hubert?\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "-Sir Hubert \"The Bright\" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).\n\n\"Well, its not too large If I'm being honest, a small walled off castle, in a state of well- absolute disrepair, there are my retainers and farmers that live on the land, totaling to about forty good people, mostly women and children.\nIts not much, but its homely at the least.\"\n\nHubert seemed to ponder once more.\n\n\"Does my quaint homestead pique your interest? It seems you have some skills I may make use of.\"\n\nThat moment a waiter passed Hubert.\n\n\"Excuse me barmaid, fetch me some food would you?\"\n\nShe scurried back to the kitchen."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"Depends on the jobs, and the pay. I am from the Melsoh, so do not fear a big expense. I'm used to living in poverty.\n\nWhat do you say Bryan? I bet the old knight could use some skilled muscle, since...― Reed realized the implications of what he was suggesting ―no offense lord Horace.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Without a word, Sir Bryan gave an respectful nod to Kiervan who stood beside him. \" Very well, \" He spoke obediently. \" After all, I has nothing to do these days. I don't mind helping out my seniors.\" He pointed out, looking back at the elderly knight with a smile upon his face."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "They all agreed to follow the old knight in the morning, and so was a night spent in the rusty pails. It wasn't a quiet night. Kiervan could swear he could hear steps outside his room and raking on the walls.\nIt was hard to sleep among thieves.\n\n🌙 —🌤️ \n\nWhen the morning came, Hubert was already awaiting the young men.\nThe old knight was diligent, having prepared not just his own luggage, but some of theirs as well."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "-Sir Hubert \"The Bright\" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).\n\nHubert looked his companions over.\n\n\"My my, not quite the early morning birds I was expecting!\"\n\nHubert chuckled to himself.\n\n\"Regardless, we must be off early, its quite a ride to my homestead, I assume you both have horses?\"\n\n-Sir Hubert \"The Bright\" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).\n\nHubert visibly frowned for a moment.\n\n\"Ah, no matter, as long as you can keep up.\nIf you have anything that need carrying, say so now, I'll have my retainer carry it.\"\n\nHubert clapped his hands, and a young boy came running, facing the floor, so as to not offend Sir Bryan.\n\n\"Ready the horses Patsy, with haste boy!\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan stood along side the elderly knight at his side as he drags the veins of his horse over here. The horses kept letting out neigh noises that Bryan has to ran his fingers across its hairs. \n\n\" Easy, \" He said, trying to reassure his horse. Sooner or later, the young knight later climb it onto the saddle by himself. \" Huh, you has servants. \" The young knight remarked about it. \" I commonly travel alone by myself. But I do has a friend, who is considered to be my squire. But he's away for something else. \" He pointed out."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "-Sir Hubert \"The Bright\" Horace- (The Rusty Pail).\n\nSeeing Bryan outside now, Hubert too leaves the Rusty Pail, and mounts his horse.\n\n\"I always travel with Pat, he's a- valuable fellow.\"\n\nHubert grabbed the reins of his horse.\nFelix mounted his mule behind the two nobles.\n\n\"To Harronhearth we go!\"\n\nHubert spurred his horse to a trot, his two companions following close behind.\nPatsy, not owning a horse himself jogged behind the group.\n\n[TIMESKIP] (Harronhearth)."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\" Hya! \" With that being said, Bryan drags the vein of his horse and let out a whip as a means for the horse to run as he heads out toward their new destination."
}
] | 79 | 1,081 |
188.52381 | 2020-11-11 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "[HARRONHEART TIMESKIP]\n\n**Kiervan Czerich - (Harronheart)**\n\nHarronheart was an ancient lant. It's lush forests and gloomy skies all gave it an air of timelesness that was hard to find to find elsewhere.\nThe place smelled of history, and forgotten kings, even though it was no more than a small county.\nIt was also a cleaner version of the Melsoh at times, having many shallow ponds that nested the herons who gave the region it's name.\n\nThe group had been marching all morning under a cold drizzle, but they all were in high spirits.\nHubert in particular, seemed to be eager to go back home for the first time in a while.\n\nIt was then then that Kiervan toticed something. Something they had missed due to the dark clouds.\n\n\"Smoke! There is smoke in the distance!\"\n\nPat, Hubert's retainer, said that it was a sign that they were near the village, but stopped his talk mid sentence.\n\nThe smoke was long and vast...\nThis was not a forge, or a fireplace... This was a fire."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "And so, the group heads out. The journey was pretty much a usual trip as always. The young knight had never went to this land before. And he was curious about it. About how does it looks like. As they entered the land, it gave Bryan a familiar feeling as the land was similar as the Melsoh. Filled with Lush forest, and foggy everywhere. \n\nSoon, the group soon came upon something unexpected. A smoke in the distance before them. One of elderly knight retainer called out, saying that there was the direction of the village. The young knight quickly brought up the veins of his horse as a means to stop its movement. \n\nLooking at the smoke in the distance, Bryan felt something was wrong. The trail of the smoke was long as it can be seen in the air, and vast as well. There was nothing that Bryan could think of except for one. That the village been pillaged, or preferably, raided by raiders, looters, or maybe even a small warband. \n\n\" We split out.\" The young knight suggested. \" I'll take that two of your retainer with me to scout ahead. You two stay behind us from a distance. We'll give you a signal if the place is clear. \" He stated, looking at the two. Especially Kiervan, who he probably thought had no experience in combat. The elderly knight can take a fight, but he was old. Bryan didn't want to risk that unless he had too."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Kiervan Czerich, Harronheart County\n\nBryan rode ahead, followed closely by Patsy, Sir Hubert's retainer. Kiervan and the old knight were not far behind. With each step, the distance between them got greater: Sir Bryan wanted to reach the village as soon as possible, whereas Sir Hubert seemed to be subconciously stalling for time. His mind was set on the task at hand, but his heart was not.\n\nThey rode into the village at full gallop. It was a small settlement, but each building was lovingly built by it's inhabitants to the highest standart. Between a third and a half of the place was built atop a series of small islands who shattered into the rapids running next tho the settlement. The rapids themselves came from a waterfall upstream, where Kiervan managed to peek at the shape of an old castle with the corner of his eye.\n\nThis proximity to the water made the ever-closer sound of flames all the weirder. Why weren't the villagers putting off the fire? There were screams in the distance, but it wasn't the blind panic that characterizes a raid.\n\nIt wasn't until they reached the fire that they could properly take in the scene...\n_\n_\n\nThe Town Hall was on fire. Flames rose from it's base to it's belltower with a deafening fury that eclipsed the wind and the rain.\nA group of young men and women in black attires of great quality were rounding up several peasants for what seemed to be an improvised execution. The brats were barely older than Kiervan or Bryan, and a couple of them even seemed to be younger. Some were shouting at the villagers, others threatening them with their blades, a few of them were tying up a man to a wooden stump for decapitation.\n\nOnly one was standing quiet.\n\nDressed in an extravagant mix of sturdy black clothes and fine red silks, he appeared to be the leader of the gang. His pose was relaxed but threatening, like a snake's, and his eyes betrayed a concealed intelligence that seemed to absent in most of the other ones. He was handsome, far more than Kiervan, and even more than Bryan, but his face wore the marks of a long sorrow.\nThe black hair of his half-shaved head was messy, as if cut with a knife or a sword instead of scissors, and the cruel rictus of his face was a forced smile. The face itslef wasn't spared the gloom, with a couple of weak scars tracing a path across his lips and around one of his eyes.\n\nSeeing the group arrive, he seemed happy... Relieved even. But his sight wasn't set on Verandus and Patsy, or even Kiervan. It was meant for Horace.\n\n\"So you did return after all... Father.\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert pulled on his horse's reins halting it, about ten meters from the man in black.\nHe looked the man in the face, a glare of hatred with no mercy.\nHubert spat on the ground.\n\n\"You are not of my family, thug. Now get off that horse, and fight me you mangy cur!\"\n\nHubert drew his Longsword, his hands trembling slightly, he got off his horse and gestured for his companions to stay back."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "The young brigand did as Sir Hubert commanded. He got off his horse and stood proud in front of the four travellers.\n\n\"You still despise me father. I guess some things never change.\"\n\nIn the background, the man being tied by the brigands began to scream and stuggle as he fought desperately to free himself from the stump. A girl of the gang silenced him by kicking the air out of his belly, then began to hit his ribs with her boot. Her blonde mane had many braids, and like her leader, she had parts of her head shaved to reveal tribalistic tatoos. Her eyes were also obscured by warpaint, giving her a predatory appearance.\n\nMuch to the distress of the group, the man began to cough blood. It didn't stop the girl. Only when he cowered, reeling from the pain, did she dare to pick him up and place him on the wooden stump again."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Seeing what had happen at here, Immediately Bryan gets off his horses. He was filled with frustration, angered by this man's action. His red cape that bears the symbol of the knights of the Ibethielian order was swinging. As always, his attire was fully consisted of chain mails around him, or preferably, Hauberk. He did wear some plated armor around him, such as the shoulders ranging around his neck.\n\nA hissing whispers was made as the young knight drawn his longsword from its scabbard. \" I demand you to release the peasants! \" He said, as he trained his sword upon the leader, pointing at him as a means of threatening him. He stood along Sir Hubert at his side, but he stood forward before him. If a fight was inevitable, Bryan make sure he was the one to engaged first before the elderly knight could.\n\nOn the other side, the young knight was concerned over the safety of the peasants. They has nothing to do with this, so why drag them into this mess? \" They do not has anything to involve with this at all! \" He pointed out to the group before him. He was surprised that the leader was Hubert son, but he didn't care about it. After seeing what the man has done, that is."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"Release this rat?\"\n\nThe girl looked insulted at Sir Bryan's order.\n\n\"He tried to burn us alive!\" She shouted, and pointed to the town hall behind her. \"In Hexrakes he would've hanged for this! But since we are in this backwater hole, we'll have to settle for something quicker. Decapitation should suffice to answer for this crime!\"\n\nThe man spat on the girl's boots.\n\"Shut the fuck up! Bitch! You bastard whoresons raped my daughter! I don't care if I burned that kid, and I'd die a hundred times if it meant having him suffer just one minute more! My only regret is not getting to burn you too!\"\n\nUpon hearing this, the leader of the gang turned his head towards the girl.\n\"Wait, is mousey dead?\" He asked.\n\n\"Yes he is,\" Said the girl. \"We could not get him out on time.\"\n\n\"Kill this fucker then.\"\n\nKiervan, who until now had only been a spectator, dared to ask the young man his name.\n\n\"My name is Lancel Horace, although my father would tell you otherwise.\"\nHis gaze returned to the old knight."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert spat on the ground once more.\nHubert now stood only two meters from his foe.\n\n\"Lancel, you turd, FIGHT ME, or I will have your entire gang burnt at the stake for pillaging and treachery!\"\n\nHubert walked closer to Lancel, seemingly growing taller, he was a sight to behold, even at his old age."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Lancel backed down a couple steps, and put his hand on the hilt of his blade. He was afraid, but something stopped him from fleeing. Pride? Spite? Or maybe...\n\n\"Pillaging? Treachery? You old fool! To you, everything is always my fault! These shit-smeared peasants tried to burn ME and my friends ALIVE!\"\n_\n_\nMeanwhile, Kiervan tried to calm thigs down, but no one would listen."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"Good, and yet, you seek to enact \"Justice\" On a worker of MY land, without MY permission? Who do you think this land belongs to boy?\nI will gut you from cock to throat you little shit.\"\n\nHubert put his sword hand on his weapon."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\" Wait! \" He shouted, to the elderly knight who call for a duel of honor. Turning his attention back on the girls, the young knight settles down his hostilitiy as he drawn back his sword. \" No life needs to be shed today! \" He shouted, looking at both groups from both sides. \" We can settle our differences aside and has a talk about it. No one needs to *Die* Today. \" He stated, he held both of his hand a means to calm them down as he stood in the middle between the father and the son."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"Oh, but somebody needs to die,\" Said the girl. \"This dung-burner killed one of our brothers! We are only making things even! After this, we will get his accomplices, and Viktor will flay them alive to the last.\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert looked at the girl making demands.\n\n\"Hold your tongue girl! Or I will take it\"\n\nHubert looked at Lancel once more.\n\n\"You going to shit yourself? I'm only saying this once, draw your sword and fight me, or I will strike you down where you stand boy.\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Lancel swallowed his own saliva.\n\n\"I'm not afraid of you,\" He said. Almost as much to himself as to Hubert. \"If what you want is a duel, then I'll be eager to honour you... Father.\"\n\nHe turned towards the burning building and raised his arms in exaltation:\n\n\"My brothers, my sisters! My Sable Brotherhood! Today, my father has returned to these lands!\nAs is custom, he readies himself to enact justice. And what is this justice?\nTo pardon the squealing rat who killed mousey, one of our own, and attempted to murder Syanna and I!\nWhy does he do that? I think you already know...\"―a string of insults could be heard from the punks towards Sir Hubert. Kiervan even got hit by a pebble on his head.―\"So I ask of you, by sworn siblings, to stand by my side as I challenge the old coot and his new lapdogs to single combat! Who will fight with me?\"\n\nAll the reavers raised their weapons in the air with a roar.\n\nSyanna, the blonde girl, asked to fight against Sir Bryan.\n\n\"I want to fight too! I'm the best fighter we have.\" A guy with black hair and imposing musculature stepped forward. He was a giant for his age.\n\n\"Not you Marius, I need you with the others.\" Said Lancel. \"And this isn't a challenge to the Sable Brotherhood, it's a personal affront.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Seeing there was nothing could be done about it, Bryan only let out a deeply sigh. He pity them, for sure. *Poor kids... Y'all didn't need to get dragged into this lunatic mess.* He thought and in his heart, was deeply saddened about it. He draws his longsword again as he stood at the elderly knight once more.\n\nThen, he was called out by someone. The girl that threatens to kill the peasant man. \" I'd recommend you should forfeit then.\" That's what he said first. \" It's an dishonorable act to fight a woman. \" He stated, he held a serious expression on his face."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert noted his companion beside him, and gave him a respectful nod.\n\n\"I'm not warning you again Lancel, fight me, now.\nThese are MY lands, and I want you off them or dead, preferably dead actually.\"\n\nHubert's sword was still tightly clutched in his sword hand."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Lancel was still hesitant to draw his blade, even if he remained defiant in the face of the old knight.\nNot Regina, she slowly made her way to Sir Bryan and drew ann ornate axe from behind her back, which she then moved elegantly from side to side.\n\n\"You remind me of my father,\" She said to Verandus. \"He ended up regretting those words.\"\n\n\"Regina no!\" From among the ranks of the botherhood, a tomboyish raven-haired girl shouted to stop her. \"I'll fight in your stead. My style is better suited against that brute. Let me deal with the new lapdog of Lancel's father.\"\n\n\"I'm not letting you fight Syanna.\" The giant behind her blocked her path with his arm.\n\n\"Listen to your brother Syanna,\" Said Lancel. \"This fight is ours.\"\n\nAnd upon saying this, he finally drew his blade."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert laughed.\n\n\"You are a dead man walking Lancel!\"\n\nHubert yelled a battlecry, and swung a mighty blow from above aiming to cleft Lancel's pretty little head in half, the blow had power behind it."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus\n\nThe young knight took his stance, he held his blade tightly in his grips. He was felt with relieved that he didn't need to fight the woman, instead a man who took in her stead for her. Bryan held a deep respect for this man, but knowing what will happen soon. Bryan was disappointed from it. \" Very well. \" He said, nodding dimly. \n\nThe young knight kept his stance steadily, patience as he kept his mouth tight. Waiting for the man to make his moves first while they walked in a circle pattern."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Kiervan Czerich, Harronheart County\n\nBlades were drawn, cries were shouted: the fight began. The first fight combat started with a brutal blow of Hubert descending upon Lancel, which the young man counted with a mix of a dodge and a parry: he stepped aside as he deflected the blow with a long scimitar of his own. He didn't escape unscathed though, for the power behind the blow made him lose his footing, allowing the old knight to follow his offensive with a series of rapid strikes.\nLancel's combat style was interesting: it was fast and fluid, but also bitter and poisonous, like a serpent lashing a boar, seeking to wear him down. He constantly moved away of Hubert's reach, and returned to bite with lighting strikes of his own.\nAt first it seemed like Lancel had the upper hand. His stategy allowed to exploit openings left by the old knight, but the longer the fight drew on, the more it was apparent that those strikes always ended up hitting Hubert's light armor or the thick leather of his travel attire.\nHubert wasn't making mistakes: he simply wouldn't bother to parry blows that he knew were going to fail.\n_\n_\n\nThe combat with Sir Bryan was another story. The champion of the Sable Brotherhood surprised both Kiervan and his opponent by unleashing a flurry of attacks that was as fast as it was potent. Verandus managed to block the initial assault, but every parry sent sparks flying from the clash of the blades. And his opponent was relentless: unlike Lancel and Hubert, whose duel consisted of feints and piercing strikes, Bryan's fight was against a machine. The champion of the brotherhood kept attacking the young knight, not allowing him to rest or go on the offensive. His strategy seemed based around outlasting Verandus trough sheer stamina, and Kiervan wondered if he could do something to help without the Brotherhood noticing.\n\nCome to think of it, Kiervan had been in a duel before, back in his Academy days. It seemed like so long ago. He rembered how everyone told him he had no chance. How had he won again? Ah yes, of course..."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Bryan held a deep breath before the first blow came apart. The young knight drawn his sword apart to block the blow came at him. Bryan parried it steadily, before being followed by a wave of slashes at him. This lonely man he fought with seems to be the champion of this group, or preferably, what they called a brotherhood or sort.\n\nMoving backwards as he kept on parrying and block the lethal blows that came at him. Those that weren't lethal at all, Bryan swiftly dodges them at ease. These kinds of attack pattern, it felt like training again for him. Slowly, he grasps the image of his opponents in his mind. On how he moves, how he attacks as each blow was exchange from both of them. However, his stamina began gradually decreased as time went pass. Sweats began pouring down bit by bits from his head. \n\nA slash came from above, Bryan narrowly dodges it as he step aside to the left. The blade of the longsword the man held struck itself onto the dirt before them. This gave Bryan a chance to finish him off, but... He didn't at all. He felt pity. Instead, the young knight utilized the pommel of his sword, or the back of the hilt preferably. He uses it as he bash it at the man's head, knocking him off from his place."
}
] | 134 | 3,959 |
348.666667 | 2020-11-12 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Kiervan Czerich - Harronheart County\n\n... He began creating a small orb, devoid of as much air as possible. If he could place it the champion's head it would be over.\n\nBut the fight wasn't going well. Marius had relented. His strikds had become slower and stronger, to which Verandus had responded by parrying one afte the other with methodical ease.\nHe look confident... Too confident.\n\n_\"Dammit Bryan, be careful! This guy is older, stronger, and maybe more skilled than you!\"_―he tought. But Bryan continued on the defensive deflecting one blow after another.\nWhy? Did he not realize that the champion wanted to wear him out? Or maybe he was looking for...\n... An opening.\n\nA swing of Marius left the young champion of the Sable Brotherhood exposed. Bryan! Attack! Now!\n\n...Wait, no. Kiervan wasn't a swrordsman. If he could see this opening it meant... A feint!\n\nWith a wicked spin, Marius' longsword came back whistling trough the air.\nFor a second, Kiervan thought he would sever one or both of Verandus' arms. But it didn't... Because Verandus attacked with his pommel.\nInstead of slincing a limb off, the blade scratched Bryan's elbow at brutal speed, but missing it's mark.\n\nSo fast was the swing that it didn't stop Bryan's strike. The pommel itself failed to connect with Marius' head, but the side of his hand managed to slap him in the face and send him back.\n\nMarius was dumbfounded.\n\n\"I knew you were underestimating me. I was planning to take your arms for it.\" He was looking at Verandus with a mix of awe, anger, and wounded pride. \"But a pommel strike? Did you honestly believed me such a lousy duellist that you could take me out with a pommel strike? You insult me.\n\nI was worried you had seen trough my plan when you began to use basic parries, but it seems you simply thought I wasn't at your level.\nArrogant punk! You think me a bandit with no skill? Did you really think than my training would be lesser than an upjumped knight like you? Oooh you certainly did.\n\nThis time... Marius of House Falke will teach you to respect your seniors, kid.\"\n\nMarius changed his battle stance. It was less threatening, but more utilitarian. Kiervan knew nothing of swordplay, but he knew the fight was about to get serious.\n\n\"Come here! Unlike you, or my oath-siblings, I've served in the Red Guard and the armies of Queen Lucrezia. Hell, I would've joined the Queensguard if I didn't owe Lancel my life. Come! Let me show you what I do to those who think they can beat me without paying in blood!\"\n\nHis words had bravado, and there was no doubt he had confidence on what he was saying, but his emotional state was somewhat over the place.\nMarius was too eager to restart the combat. The combination of his failure to bring down Verandus with his feint, and Bryan's percieved opinion of him had affected him more than he wished tho admit."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "The young knight held a breath to restore his stamina after that brief exchange of blows. He saw the expression upon his opponent face and was bit disappointed as well. \" Your pride has already wounded, deeply wounded as a knife is carved into it. \" He spoken, his tone was that of a wise and calm man. \" Had you not became the man you are now, perhaps you would've been a proud and honor warrior. \" He stated, looking at the man before him disapprovingly.\n\nHe continued to get some quick breath before the battle between the two warriors could continue. He took upon his combat stance, a defense stance. That is. With the blade of his longsword brought up close upon the right side of his body. Sometimes, defenses can be turned from into offensive. Or, that's what he thought of.\n\n\" Well. \" He said, upon standing in front of his opponent before him. \" You has the edge in strength and spirit.\" The young man pointed out. \" That leaves me only my wiles with wich to defeat you.\" Somehow, he dimly smiled about it. As if he was enjoying this duel all along. \n\n\" I will has the measurement of your sword, too.\" He stated, his eyes looking narrowly at his opponents longsword before setting his sights upon him. Bryan held his guard tight, waiting for his opponents to make his move. His enemies has taken upon a new stance too. Meaning, precautious was now his priority. He set his mind upon Enlightenment, centering himself in the environment around him."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Went on the offensive, and lunged towards Lancel trying to wrestle him into the dirt so as to end the fight quickly, as Hubert felt tired already."
}
] | 318 | 1,046 |
314 | 2020-11-17 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn - Harronheart County\n\nThe sound of metal clanks were heard in the distance as metal boots stomped the ground. Vaughn could be seen in front of a medium sized group as his dark, hickory shaded hair flew in the air. A brilliant smirk grew on his face as he watched the conflict rage down below. The thirty men that stood behind him stood fast and alert as they knew how unforgiving and merciless the tides of battle could be. The brown eyes of Vaughn focused onto the solemn town of Harronheart. He noticed the fog filled air above the town from the burning building only to see the men below dueling as if their lives were on the line. The fog filled air fell around the group as Vaughn gripped the handle of his double-edged blade. With a fierce pull he would draw his short sword before extending his hand outward. A sudden idea came over him of who the perpetrators of this event could be. Yes, if not regular bandits he could only think of the child military that was present in the area. A discouraged look came over his men as they thought of the chance of having to put down children. Nonetheless, Vaughn did not plan or want to have to take innocent lives. With a hopeful tone he would state to the men,\n\n \"We may be spread in numbers... But together we can overcome! With me!\".\n\nAs he stated this a sudden fierce look came over his face as his feet met the base of the Earth. In the lunged position he began to embark as he made forward, toward the conflict at hand. His men, with brave faces charged behind him as they were hopeful to make it out of the situation alive. As he took another glance at the solemn town one figure stood out to him. Yes, a notable figure from his past, Sir Bryan Verandus. As he made his slow approach he would shout,\n\n\"I demand this conflict come to an end. Right here and now!\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Felix Reed - Harronheart County\n\nThe arrival of the garrison left the group astonished for an instant, until Regina, the blonde girl shouted:\n\"They've brought soldiers! Cowards!\" And she rushed towards them.\nThree or four of the other kids followed her.\n\nThen, a wheat-haired boy thew a short spear from one of the rooftops and imapled one of the soldiers in the shoulder, making him fall to the ground but without killing him.\n\nEverything went downhill from there:\nFrom one side of the plaza to the other the Lordsblood reavers clashed against the soldiers. An archer from the Ibbish garrison managed to hit the spear-thrower with an arrow, puncturing the side of his torso. Marius, the reaver champion, immediately abandoned his duel with Verandus and rushed to the aid of his comrades. Desperate to score a last moment victory, Lancel attempted one final assualt against the exhausted Hubert, but only managed to get himself disarmed in four strikes. He managed to recover his sabre and fall back, but only because Syanna pinned the old knight in place with a hail of throwing knives.\nThe garrison slowly began to make way. Though individually skilled, the members of the brotherhood were in shock and disorganized, not to mention cowardly. Some brats began to flee the moment they got wounded. It wasn't long until the others saw they were outnumbered and followed suit.\n\nMarius was the exeption, he stood firm in place, slowing the advance of the garrison soldiers. In the short timespan that Felix saw him, he stood his ground against two opponents, managing to disarm one of the soldiers and felling the other. But it wasn't long until he was surrounded. Eventually, he was forced to lay down his broadwsord and surrender, even as the last of the Lordsblood punks fled the scene."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Getting back barely on his feet following the actions that Marius did, Bryan held his stance tight. His hands hold the hilt of his longsword tightly. Looking square in the eye of his opponents, Bryan was about to make his move soon. It was then, where he heard a familiar noises, horses galloping coming from the opposite of his direction. As he take a quick look, the young knight quickly saw what it was. \n\nIt was a local garrison patrol of the Ibethiel's Army. *But, what from town?* He thought, looking back at them before back onto his enemies. Most of them were already on the run, some stay back and attempted to held off the patrol. His opponents, Marius, has already abandoned the duel and went to aid his comrades. Bryan took another quick look to see who was leading\n\nIt was a familiar figure, someone he knew so well from his past that he didn't even need a second to think about. Vaughn, his squire, or more so, he preferably call his childhood friend. \"Vaughn!\" Bryan exclaimed happily, upon seeing his appearance. Before they could has a talk, one of the soldiers were pinned down by a spear into his shoulder. The young knight quickly rushed over to his side, helping him ass he drags him behind a wall as a means for cover. \n\n\" Capture some of them! \" He yelled, looking back at his men. \" But don't get too far away! We just need a few, and that's it.\" He stated, while tending to his men. It's a good thing that the tip of the blade of the spear didn't get that deeply, so Bryan was able to pull it out swiftly at ease."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "As Vaughn saw the conflict before him begin to rain down into chaos a small grit could be heard as his teeth clanked down onto each other. With a tight gripped he held his double-edged short sword in hand as he yelled to the men behind him to advance. He did not wish to take a single innocent life today. After taking a brief look at the army of the enemy, to his surprise most of them were children. He would speak firmly before saying,\n\n\"There is no honor or wish to spill innocent blood today. They are only children. Do your best to capture them!\"\n\nHe would yell out before advancing forward. His dark, hickory colored hair flew through the air as he rushed into the battle. It didn't take long for Vaughn to spot a single wheat-haired child that had seemed to have taken an arrow to his side. As two of his men followed behind him they kept guard from his rear. He slowly made his way over to the boy before checking him for his weapons. He would try to keep the boy calm as he would say,\n\n\"This is going to hurt a bit but you'll be alright. Just try to keep your composure lad.\"\n\nAs he said this he would grab the core piece of the arrow before jerking down onto it. As it broke the metal tip stayed in to prevent blood loss from the wounded child. Vaughn proceeded to put his arms under the child before attempting to drag him away from the battle, in order to keep him safe."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert in a display of incredible skill parried the thrown daggers right out of the air, but it was obvious the old knight was exhausted, and sat down his back against a large rock.\nHe watched his allies capture his foes, this was his land, he would apply judgement, and there was only one penalty for looting and raiding. Death.\n\n\"PAT, GET OVER HERE.\"\n\nHubert's young retainer arrived shortly thereafter.\n\n\"Fetch me some water.\"\n\nThe little fellow scurried off, as Hubert watched the fight settle down."
}
] | 359 | 1,570 |
191 | 2020-11-18 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronheart County.**\n\nKiervan had a hard time standing up. One of the young reavers had pushed him into the mud before tackling Vaughn, all so that wonded young man that started it all could manage to break free. Id didn't change a lot: while he saved his friend, he got captured instead.\n\nThe Brotherhood members fast and slippery, but when the guards came back, the Ibbish members had managed to get a hold of three of them:\n\nMarius Falke, the brotherhood champion, who turned out to be the scion in exile of an important Ibbish house.\n\nErwan Cuberth, a plump and auburn-haied boy who sacrificed himself to allow the spear-thrower to escape. None of the guards managed to figure out his identity. He was probably from a minor noble house.\n\nAnd finally, a certain readhead fittingly named Noëlle \"Redlin\". Allegedly one of the many bastard daughters of Nigel Redlin: former Ibbish minister of war, later disgraced by queen Lucrezia and presumably killed.\nShe had been caught while attempting to flee.\n_\n_\n\"What should we do with them?\" Asked Felix."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Bryan Verandus, Harronheart\n\n*Out of all the thirty members or so,* The young knight thought, as he watches their enemies being held as prisoners to them. *...Only three were caught.* He nodded disapproved of it, however it was a fair number they could get at least.\n\nBryan drew his back his longsword into its brown scabbard, a hissing whisper was made from it as he did it. He inspected all of the captives in front of him, some of which he had heard of, some of which, never at all.\n\nHe was soon interrupted by the arrival of Kiervan, his friend. Who seems to get his clothes dirty during the commotion. \" They got your dirty, \" Bryan said, and grimaced for a moment. Looking back at his friend with a nervous smile, he turned his attention back to their captives. \n\n\" I said, we tied them up nearby for now. Or find a place to lock them up.\" Bryan suggested, his eyes upon the captives, especially their \"Champion\" Which they were able to capture him. \" Interrogate them, and we'll decide what will be their fate be. \" He stated, looking back at his friend."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "The readhead struggled in vain to break free, whereas the chubby boy who had tackled Vaughn opposed the guards here and there, but was overall much calmer.\n\nMarius didn't even need to be restrained after being tied. He followed along, not bothering to return a look to Felix or Bryan.\n\n\"You've got this wrong!\" The Cuberth boy tried to argue with Vaughn and the men of the garrison. \"Those Shitbloods tried to burn us alive! We were simply trying to avenge our dead comrade! They wanted the murderer to get away,\" He said, and he pointed towards Pat and Hubert."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\" But you started this,\" Bryan snapped, looking back at the fellow member part of the brotherhood. The young knight start walking, slowly approaching the young man and stood before him at ease. He held a serious expression upon his face as he looked in the square of the eyes of the young fellow. \" Had you not, you wouldn't probably be here by now. \" He pointed out, before he turned aside and take a look at the nearby peasants who lived at here. \"\n\n\"...What he just said, was it true? \" The young knight asked, surveying the peasants. Especially the man who were almost killed by these young pests, he had his eyes set upon him first. \" I want y'all to be honest at here, we all helping out at here because of this mess they made.\" He stated, reassuring the peoples before him."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Everyone became quiet. Only the sound of fading flames could be heard.\n\nThe peasants looked at Bryan. They were battered and dirty, but determined.\nNot a single one opened their mouth to denounce anyone.\n\nNone but the man who had escaped the brotherhood's punishement.\n\n\"Yes. I did,\" He said. \"They raped my daughter. They have killed our cattle, plundered the riches of the town hall and taken them to their hideout. They stole the ale of madam Barne's tavern. They come every year to take away our hard earned coin, or harvest, all in the name of their alleged Lordsblood right.\n\nSo what if I burned them? They deserved it. Too long have we suffered their raids without help from the army.\nI decided to take justice into my own hands, even if it means I will hang for it.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart\n\nUpon hearing this, Bryan were filled with nothing but disappointed and disgusted by the actions of the so-called of their brotherhood did. \"...Thank you for your honesty.\" He said, expressing his gratitude for the man who bravely stood out to speak out against the marauders. ...They are in fear. The young knight thought, after suffering such attacks from them probably months by months. It must has been hard for them to speak out. \n\nNodding his head slowly, Bryan slowly turned and looked at the young fellow before him as he was held by two of his men. Bryan was very disappointed of this. \"...What's the man said, he's right.\" He spoke. \"Justice must be served for those you has been harmed with. \" He stated, his tone was that of a wise and calm man. \"Why joined this cause anyways? You were born as a noble, something which not everyone is born with. You should be grateful of that.\" He pointed out. \n\nBefore the young fellow could speak out for himself, Bryan already knew what he was about to say. \" I don't know what's going on in your family or sort. But I has seen many of your kinds before.\" He said. \"Young heirs with daddy issues, runaway brides escaping from an arranged marriage, victims of abusive parents. Name them all.\" He listed them out while he slowly put himself to his knees, looking at the young kid with a concern look. \"Hell, I even help some of your kind to escape before. But this!?\" He said, getting back on his feet immediately as he pointed out his finger across the environment around them.\n\n\" This has taken just too much over the line! \" The young knight exclaimed, shouting at the kid because of their actions they made."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronheart County\n\nAfter being tackled, a shocked look went over Vaughn's face. It had seemed that he had let his guard down. The boy that he had attempted to recover had noticeably escaped. As he rose to his feet his hands made their way up to his torso before brushing off the light coat of mud that had made it onto his chainmail armor. As he picked up his short sword, with a tight grip he held the double-edged blade in hand before returning to the capture point. As he returned, to his slight surprise he noticed that his men had been able to capture a good amount from the brotherhood. To his dismay however, he learned the truth of why these children decided to run away from home. Although a small bit of concern laid on him, in his opinion, this movement had went to far. However, he pitied the group for what they had to endure. As he continued to look down at the children his head would turn to his mean. His dark, hickory colored hair would flow in the wind's breeze as he gave them a quick nod. He was proud to know that they kept their bravery even in the heat of value. One question lied over Vaughn though. As he turned to Sir Bryan he would ask,\n\n\"So what now?\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"What now?\nWell, we will execute these looting thugs, and chase down that band of pathetic bandits.\nThis my land, my word is final, you may decide amongst yourselves who will do the killing. But they must all die for their crimes.\n\nHubert was still sat down against the large rock, sweat coating his brow and forehead."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart\n\n\"..Woah,\" Bryan was not a bit surprised that Hubert was gonna call for an execution for them, however he felt that it was quick to happen now. \"Hang on. We can't just do that now. The conclusion of this is too early\" The young knight pointed out, looking back at his captives before looking back at the elderly knight. \"Not at this moment of course. Look around you, this place is in ruins. Your people needs you now, not them.\" He stated, his sights as he held it upon the peasants before he looks in the direction of where did the Brotherhood fled too. \"We still has a big problem for ourselves to deal with anyways.\" Bryan said.\n\nHe looked back on the prisoners and thought of something. \"Well,\" He said, rubbing his chins for the moment. \"I guess we could use their help in the event that has yet to come.\" He exclaimed, looking back at the elderly knight, hoping that he would rethink his decisions."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronheart County\n\nAs Vaughn was answered by Sir Hubert a worried yet stern expression came across his face. He did feel a tad bit of sympathy for the poor youngsters, however he did feel as if they should face some sort of punishment. He lightly took his hand across his forehead before wiping the sweat off his brow. His dark, hickory colored hair swayed in the air as his eyes began to focus onto the group. He would speak in a low manner before saying,\n\n\"Well they are young. Would it be a better idea to have these lot draw out the others from their hiding places?\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert thought long and hard, he breathed in deeply.\n\n\"We shall keep one of them as bait, a hostage if you will.\nBut you are right Sir Bryan, my people need me, we must tend to my hall, we shall execute the prisoners tomorrow.\"\n\nHubert got up and started walking towards the crumbling town hall."
}
] | 173 | 2,101 |
107.25 | 2020-11-19 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Ravenloft Reed - Harronheart County**\n\n\"Let's not be too hasty: some of them could be of use,\" Said Felix. \"These are noble, aren't they? Maybe we could ransom them to their families, and those that prove useless could be executed to set an example.\"\n\nHe caressed his cat with the back of his hand, then gazed at the castle uphill:\n\n\"In the meantime, let's lock them up in the dungeon. We need to think of a way to deal with the other marauders: I doubt they won't come back for more.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Nodding approvingly of Kiervan words, Sir Bryan gave a signal to a part of their men they has at the moment to set up a parameter around the village for now. \"The others, put down the fire in the town hall. \" He ordered, and the soldiers followed suit afterwards. Most of the peasant also went to help them out. A few soldier went on to lead the prisoners to a dungeon or sort they could find nearby.\n\n\" I said, we get some shelter first, then we discussed about this.\" He'd replied to the young man. As he looked above as the rain pours down tears of nature liquid upon him. His chain mails were filled with mud and dirt around it. Grimacing hard, the young knight let out a deep sigh about it."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronheart County \n\nVaughn simply sheathed his short sword. As the double edged blade fixed itself into its holder a small snap could he heard as the handle met the entrance. After he did this he looked up before turning to from Sir Bryan and Sir Hubert. He gave a simple nod as he heard Sir Bryan's proposed idea. His dark, hickory colored hair dropped down as he eyed the prisoners walking with the soldiers. Although he get a small bit of sympathy for the poor souls, he simply stood at attention."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert, got up slowly.\n\n\"We can rest in the castle. The prisoners will go to the dungeon.\n\nHubert without speaking another word began walking towards his castle."
}
] | 118 | 429 |
196.461538 | 2020-11-21 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"I want to stay clear from the dungeon,\" Replied Felix. \"The big dude you were fighting scares me, even behind bars. The other one looks to be a dead man wakling: I doubt he will even notice when we hang him. As for the girl, she's been whining all the way here, cursing names I don't know and blaming the blood caste for her misfortune. Maybe you'll want to pay them a visit. Not me.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Castle\n\n\"...Uh-huh.\" He said, turning around as he looked over at Kiervan who suggested that he should go talk with the prisoners about it. He rubs his chin about it for a moment, thinking about whether he wanted or not. \"...Alright, I'll do it.\" He stated, looking at Kiervan as he nodded before turning his attention toward Vaughn. \"Follow me, Vaughn. Looks like we got something to do.\" He said, and smiled for a moment before he slowly walks away where the direction of the dungeon was.\n\nAs he walks, he then suddenly stopped as he turned and take a look at Kiervan for something else. \"At the same time, you should go find a map of this area or sort, we can plan our strategies from there on. Might give us a clue about the whereabouts of the brotherhood current position. \" The young knight advised, before continuing his way towards the dungeon along his squire."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronheart County\n\nAs Sir Bryan motioned for him to come along, a hopeful yet serious look stood on his face. His dark, hickory colored hair swayed in the air as it motioned. His feet met the muddy ground as he hastily followed behind Sir Bryan, his lifelong friend. As he followed behind him a small enveloped letter laid calmly in his hand. Although their were small wrinkles along the parchment he motioned for Sir Bryan before saying,\n\n\"Sir Bryan, my apologies for not giving this to you sooner. This letter is from a royal.\"\n\nHe would say as he motioned his hand forward to give it to him. The chainmail armor covered his arm as a small glimmer of light touched down."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan - Harronkeep dungeon\n\n\"Come on, Vaughn. No need for the formalites,\" He said in a cheerful tone as the two walks through the hallways. \"We've known each other for *Years*, y'know.\" He pointed out, looking over at his friend. \"Besides, if there is anyone who I am counting my life at, is definitely you for sure.\" He stated and grinned. The two knew each others from childhood ever since. Bryan held a great trust and loyal toward his dearest friend. \n\nAs Vaughn mentioned about a letter and gave it to him, Bryan quickly noticed the sigil that bears the royal insignia from the capital of Ibethiel. *What's this?* He thought as he held it his hands, wondering about it as he quickly opens it. Seeing what was inside of it. It was a paper as he slowly takes it out from it. He read it for quite sometimes as the two continue walks on their way, he had some impressions about it after reading it. The young knight didn't believed it at first. \n\nAfter arriving at the entrance of the dungeon and greeted by two guards who were guarding it, Bryan let out a deep breath about it. \"Apparently,\" He said, after taking a step into the dungeons. \"I has been made as landlord of Mormill, it's seems.\" He explained, looking over at his friend as he smiled. \"Guess Ma would be proud of me, I guess.\" He exclaimed and chuckles about it."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronheart Dungeon\n\nA small smirk would go across Vaughn's face as he was surprised about what had actually resided in the letter. After all, even though it was from a royal he had never suspected that Sir Bryan would become a landlord. As he stood he would lightly tap Bryan's shoulder with rejoice before saying, \n\n\"Congratulations old friend.\"\n\nAs he said this with a sincere tone he would remove his hand before dropping it to his side."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Suddenly, a slow laugh played from the shadows. It was a male voice, wounded and tired, but somehow disdainful and mocking at the same time.\n\n\"Well congragulations boy. Now we have another self-righteous prick picking clean the carcass of this country.\"\n\nA cough made him stop. From the dark, Sir Bryan and Vaughn could hear the faint sound of chains.\n\nA second voice came in. Female, on the verge of tears:\n\n\"Please let me out! Why are you helping the lord of Harronheart? He was willing to pardon a murderer, only because we were the ones he tried to kill.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Bryan ignored who's the first one to said his line, however Bryan couldn't ignore the second who came in as she mentioned about why he was helping them. *Ignorant fools,* He thought, clenching his fist tightly as a slight of frustration came upon him. \"You plundered this village.\" He snapped, back at the girl. He was trying to his voice steady and low as possible. \"The peoples of this village has suffered so hard from your damm brotherhood actions. The peoples that lived at this village has its much own right to coexist peacefully in their own place. \" He exclaimed, looking at where the voice came from. \n\n\"You think I'll just let you free just because of a nonsense reason?\" He asked, looking at the directions around him where the other voices came from. \" Think about what you guys has did. I don't think I need to explained that either.\" He stated."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronheart Dungeon\n\nAs Vaughn heard the words from the prisoners a small shocked expression laid on his face. However, he couldn't help but to question the second bellow which sounded out to be a feminine voice. He turned quietly without saying a word. As he approached the cell gate he simply stood before going to his knees. He attempted to get a good look at this fellow. However, he didn't stand that close in case the prisoner had a plan of sorts. Although he felt a small bit of pity for the poor woman he just stood there as he aloud what happened to happen."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "The clouds outside the castle dissipated, allowing for the moonlight to fall over the prisioners.\n\nIn the center lied Erwan Cuberth, with his arms around his knees and no life in his eyes.\nOn the left was Marius Falke's shilouette, the glow of an eye burning with contempt could be seen on the left side of his face.\nNoëlle Redlin was on the right. Her face had lost much of her beauty due to the bruises and the cold, but she didn't look as beaten as Erwan, and her voice was as silvery as ever.\n\n\"We did what we had to do to survive,\" She said. \"We were cast aside by our families, and denied what was ours. Do you even know that this county is Lancel's? If only his father didn't refuse to aknowledge him, we could've come here in peace. But no, the old miser had to hang to it like a tick to a hog.\nWhat did we do? We took bacj what what was ours. We fought to defend our own.\nNothing more.\"\n\nMarius spoke from the other side of the cell:\n\"We are the Sable Brotherhood. We live in our own terms, by our own code, our own justice. We're free.\nBut you, who knows nothing but to bark about honor, as if this country had any, would not understand.\"\n\nUnlike Redlin's words. Falke's were targeted specifically at Sir Brian. His gaze ignored Vaughn entirely."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\"Damm, I never knew you guys has a code that is ruining about peoples lives.\" He snapped back at them in a sarcastically tone as he looked around his surroundings, seeing the prisoners in their own cells as his vision get used to the dark environment around him. He didn't know how to respond it or not, he just felt it was stupid or sort to has such a code like this. He just kinda has that kind of impressions where he wanted to laugh or not. \n\n\"If I said I were to ruined yours, would you be happy with that then?\" He asked; It was an rheortical question for them and he was curious how would that they answer to him."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Noëlle went back to the corner of her cell. She had spent all her tears earlier.\n\nMarius didn't move. He answered Bryan's question, even though no one had asked him to:\n\n\"I would. We fight for own, don't we?\nExept this is not your fight. This feud is between Lancel, and his father. He has the brotherhood, the old cretin has his retainers and Shitbloods.\n\nYou don't belong here. You had no right to intervene.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronkeep Dungeons\n\n\"But this is my country, this land is part of it. The place that I was born from.\" He pointed out. \" And bound by the code of chivalry. I'm here to defend it as I has a right due to it.\" He answered, back to their \"Champion\" Or sort as he looked back at him. Slowly, he approaches his cells, one of his hand slowly grasp around one of the metal bar that held the cell together. \n\n\"You said you served once in the Red Guard before,\" He pointed out, regarding about what he had during their duel before the Ibethelian army arrived. \"Meaning you were a knight in the past. \" He stated, looking at him with a calmful look on his face. \"Why walk down this path? Plundering villages across the lands, and yet, you still speak of honor after all what you has done.\" He asked."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"The is no honor. Not in chivalry. Protect the innocent, obey your liege... So many vows. As if you couldn't keep one without breaking the other.\n\nI still remember the last thing I did as part of Ibbish army. My father, he... He had arranged for me to be part of the taskforce that would escort the Carbonells during the restoration. Called many favours for that. He thought I would look nice in the future paintings.\n\nAnd there was the Carbonell kid... Cheston I think was his name. I don't remember well, but I do remember his face. I don't... I don't know if he was dumb or smart, but he made me swear that I would keep him safe. He said it was part of my knightly duty or something like that.\"\n\nMarius had closed his eyes. His voice had begun to break. As if he were trying to rember a nightmare.\n\n\"He... He was scared. The kid thought... Knew, he was going to die. I... I knew that an execution was not planned. Had no idea the queen...\n\nThe Carbonells were brought in front of the gallows. I... Didn't think anything of it: It was all meant to be theatre. A way for the new queen to... Exile them as an... Act of mercy.\n\nBut then, the queen she...\n\nYou know what happened. You were not there, but I was: the people of Ibethiel cheering when a ten year old and his mother were hung.\n\nI remember.\n\nIf the queen had told you to stand by as an innocent kid was hung alongside his mother, would you have done it? Would you have kept your honor then?\" Falke's teeth were grinding against each other. \"Would you have kept your oath to the people who laughed and cheered when they saw them spend their last moments in pain?\"\n\nHe paused and took breath.\n\n\"I don't... Remember a lot after that, but my father said I... Disgraced the family by attacking the knights amidst the euphoria.\n\nA fistfight he said. I... Don't remember it, but... Maybe. Who knows?\nMy point being...\"\n\nMarius had reopened his eyes. His gaze was once again alight with fury.\n\n\"That you call me dishonorable. But you're not more of a knight than I am. You simply never had to take a stand for anything.\""
}
] | 153 | 2,554 |
232.25 | 2020-11-22 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Listening to the former knight story, the young knight takes it into account. Memorising the words he had said to him. \"I'm sorry for what you has seen...\" He said, perhaps the two does has something in common. As the knight mentioned about would he had saved a prisoner from getting hand, Bryan thought deeply about it for a moment. \"Well...\" He spoke, looking at the champion of the brotherhood who lies in chain before him. \"They does deserve justice after all what has it happen... However..\" He paused. \"..What you just said was right, the innocents has no matter with this at all.\" He let out a sigh about it. \n\nSlowly he walks away from the cells to a distance, thinking about something else for a moment. Looking in any direction before turning back to the champion after knewing what he was about to say. \"...For the past few years, after being a knight. I came across many interesting adventures on my journey.\" He said, as if each of the words he had spoke has meanings behind it. Something as if contained a story or sort in each of the words. \"To the point that I even helped out some of your kind to escape from their family. Bastards heirs, runaway brides. Name them all. \" He pointed out, looking at his enemy in his prison cells. \n\nHe held a deep breath for a moment, before he continued. He grimaced hard, whether he wanted to say it or not. But in the end, he decided to do so. \"...When I was a child, I had a dream once.\" He said, letting out a sigh about it. \"..A round table afforded, where no one man in this world is more importance than any other at all.\" He stated. \" That they should believed in the equality in all things.\" He said, looking back at his captives to see how he will react."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"The Brotherhood used to be such a place,\" Said Falke. \"At least before Lancel let people like Randholm join.\"\n\nThe name got a reaction from Erwan. Marius kept talking.\n\n\"Randholm was the boy this one sacrificed himself for,\" He said. And he pointed his thumb at Erwan. \"He's one of his loyal followers.\"\n\nNoëlle Redlin, who until now had remained mostly silent, tried to convince Vaughn to let her out.\n\n\"Yes! It's Viktor's fault! He was the one who raped the swinesblood girl. We had nothing to do with it! Please... Let us out.\"\n\nErwan was annoyed by it:\n\"Shut up Redlin! Viktor said that whore asked for it. We did nothing wrong. The knights are delusional. They're biased against us because of that senile coot Hubert.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\"To be exact, I'm just speaking out facts from everyone's perspective.\" He snapped back at the young lad who talked behind his back, saying him that he was delusional. He turned, looking at his cells as he slowly approaches him. \"Unlike the old knight, I have no desire to kill you all... Yet.\" He said, after he stood in front of his cells. \" I believed in redemptions, that everyone has a chance to redeemm themeselves even despite why they has done to others.\" The young knight paused for a moment. \"And that's why I offering y'all a choice at here. \" He pointed out, looking at the others in their cells.\n\nAnother breath taking in before he continued. \"Help us, aid us in the search of your brotherhood current whereabouts.\" He said, stating his intentions to everyone in the area. \"Under the current circumstances, I should able to help you guys once this is over. Helping you guys faking your own identities,\" He explained, listing out the options he had for them if they will accept. \"And lived a new life. That is.\" He exclaimed, trying to reassure the others."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"Betray my comrades to save my own skin? No thanks.\" Said Marius. \"I owe Lancel my life, if I must die, then so be it. It was about time I repayed my debt.\"\n\nErwan tried to say something, but he backed down at the last moment.\n\nNoëlle however, grabbed the iron bars of the cell and begged Sir Bryan and Vaughn to let her live:\n\"I will tell you where you they are. I don't know the exact place, but I will remember the path once I see it! Please let me out! Please!\""
}
] | 209.5 | 929 |
120.111111 | 2020-11-23 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Despite their choices they made, whether they agreed to it or not. The young knight respected their decisions and didn't held any regards to it. \"Very well,\" He said, acknowledging what they has just said. The knight turned his attention towards the woman in her cell alone, begging him to let him out of here.\n\nBryan took the keys nearby, and approaches her cell at ease. He placed the key into her cage, but he didn't open yet. \"Do you kept your words?\" He asked, he wanted to make sure whether they are honest or not."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert stood at the stairs to the dungeon, only his dark silhouette appearing.\n\n\"What do you think you are doing?\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Harronkeep dungeon**\n\nThe sudden appearence of the old knight took the prisioners by surprise.\nThe boys raised their heads. Erwan shuddered, while Noëlle fell back on her butt and crawled backwards to the end of the cell."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Dungeons.\n\n\"Interrogating the prisoners,\" The young knight answered, truthfully in a way. That is. He was surprised by the sudden appearance of the old knight, but he didn't flinch... Yet. \"Isn't that our purposes at here?\" He asked, a quick glance he held at where the voice came from the exit. \"To know about the current whereabouts of our enemy?\" He pointed out."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"Our purpose is certainly not to let our prisoners out, nor is it to enlist them.\nThey will be executed for daring to cross me, now you may try to get the location of their band of ruffians, but we will find them eventually.\"\n\nHubert stood in place."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\"Regardless,\" He replied, as his hands was still held onto the keys as he then unlocked the cage. \"I am still letting her go out.\" He stated, as he pushed the door open for the female prisoners within it as he takes a few away from it afterwards.\n\nLooking over to the elderly knight, who stood high above the stairs before him. Bryan held a deep breath before he spoke. \"It would be better for her to tell more specific about the brotherhood current whereabouts since I assumed we had a map around. \" The young knight explained. \"In that way, we will has a more better specific exact location of our foes at. No need to guess about. With a exact pinpoint location., We're good to go by then.\" He pointed out, trying to assure the course of action he trying to do.\n\n\"After all, once we knew their location. We can just threw her back into the cage anyways.\" He said, looking over to the prisoner in the cells. He gave a quick wink, giving her a sign that their deal was still going before he turned back to the elderly knight."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"No.\"\n\nHubert glared at them both, his old eye's piercing the dank, dark dungeon.\n\n\"I'm not letting her leave, neither will you, they will come to us, or we will find them, no bargaining.\nCall me stubborn if you will, but that woman is a vile wretch that deserves to die, as do the others.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\"Our numbers are thin, \" He pointed out, their numbers were barely enough to set up a perimeter around the village. Hell, even holding patrols was a problem. \"If we were to find them by our own, it would take days. Even *Weeks*, to be exact. \" The young knight explained. Surely the elderly knight couldn't be that ignorant right? Even so, the soldiers they had now were under his control since he now knows that he has been appointed as the lord of Mormill by the capital. \n\n*I guess I'll has to thanks that to you, Sir Gale.* He thought, Sir Gale was the knight who selected Bryan to be his squire years prior to this event. Formerly the lord of Mormill, too. *Guess, something happen in the capital and finally made me as the lord of that town after all those years ago?* He wondered, ever since those years after his mentor death. Bryan still found it hard to accept it. But now. It wasn't the time to think about that now. There were situations at hand to deal with.\n\n\"I doubt they will come back to find us after all what had happen. \" He said, looking at the elderly knight before him. \"Even if you won't allowed, I will continue what I was supposed to do so.\" He stated, he had no second thoughts about it. \"These soldiers in this town now, guarding it with their lives are under my lead.\" He pointed out. \"So if I said I pulled away my soldiers right now and leave this place straight away, would you agree with that? Cause I can do that right now straight away if you want.\" He asked. A considerably hard question for the elderly knight to answer with.\n\nThe young knight find a great interesting curiousity on how he will answers with. Despite the little annoyance he held because of him."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"I said leave my prisoners alone.\"\n\nHubert put his hand on his sword's hilt.\n\n\"This is my land, MY land, you will not take my prisoners, and the garrison is under my command, you are low standing knight of wherever, these troops owe no allegiance to you.\""
}
] | 72 | 1,081 |
219.333333 | 2020-11-24 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Dungeon\n\n\"But these soldiers lives are also part of my responsibility...\" He'd answered, anger grows slowly within his heart. Filling it as the frustration goes on stronger as the ignorance of the elderly knight made him to do so. But was it wise to call out the elderly knight because of it? Perhaps. However, Bryan was reminded of one thing. Despite whatever he was, whether a lord of a town or not, he must pay his respects to the elderly knight regardless of how they act. That was one of the code in the order that's all knight should follow with.\n\nHe reluctantly acknowledge the elderly knight words despite how much he hate it. However, he must not forget what he stands at. He let out a deep sigh, and slowly nodded in response. He let go of his anger, subduing it slowly as moment passes. Eventually, he raised his right palm and brought it to the left side of his chest, snapping into a stiff salute..\n\n\"Apologies for the rude behavior, my lord.\" He said, as he respectfully bowed to him. \"I shouldn't has said that.\" He pointed out, and letting out a sight following it. \"....I'm just trying to help. I thought that, if we were to strike now. I decided to use cunning moves to let that happen now.\" He stated, disappointed by him own self. \"Forgive me of what I has done, sir.\" The young knight plead for forgiveness."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"Put the key away.\"\n\nHubert still stood motionless."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\"Sir.\" With one quick response from the young knight, he obediently follows the elderly knight command shortly afterwards. As he closes the door and locked it away, he took the key away from its place and attached it to his waist. To ensure that one of the prisoners should not able to escape. Though, he gave the female prisoner a sad look before turning his attention to the elderly knight before him.\n\n\"I assume we should be going then, my lord?\" He asked, he stood at ease before him. Ready to obediently follow the elderly knight command."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert stood motionless for a moment.\n\n\"They will probably have left tracks of some sort, we will pick up their trail tomorrow.\nAs for the prisoners, we will execute them later this evening.\"\n\nWithout another word Hubert began walking up the stairs again."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronkeep Dungeon\n\n\"Sir.\" A response from the young knight, as he then slowly turned his head and looked over at Vaughn with a nod. Telling him that it was time to go as he soon followed behind the elderly knight lead."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Ravenloft Reed - Harronheart County**\n\nIn nights like these, Felix preferred the eyes of his cat to his own. Pyotr's senses were also sharper, more refined, more fitting to collect materials...\n\nHe had snuck under the cover of darkness to the place where the pisioners were going to be hanged tomorrow: an old tree by the edge of the waterfall. Dig, dig, dig... No roots, not the ones he was searching for. In Azarya, the blood of criminals and livestock alike would always be poured under redgnawl trees so mages could harvest the... There it was! The bloodroot!\nEven with Pyotr's eyes, the root looked dirty, but it had that rich metallic scent that betrayed it's bloody bounty.\nFelix loved these grim harvests, there was something thrilling about collecting forbidden leaves and poisons in the middle of the night.\n\nTo be fair, he had already collected a fair ammount of rare ingredients, but he had no way of concocting potions. Where could he get an Alembic? Not in Harronheart, that's for sure. Maybe back in Hexrakes?\n\n\"Do. Not. Move.\" A feminine voice spoke from behind him. \"If you try anything funny, I will shove this spear all the way up you ass.\"\n\nKiervan was terrified, but then he remembered something: Pyotr. He remained frozen and insted turned the cat towards the girl.\nThere were actually two of them, he remembered them from the fight earlier that day: the feral blonde with the braids, and the voluptuous short-haired one. Scouts of the reavers. Likely sent to stage a rescue of their prisioners.\n\n\"Now, you're going to turn around, slowly.\" Said the blonde. Regina was her name? Kiervan couldn't remember. \"Slowly...\"\n\nFools. He did as they commanded and turned around, just fast enough so they could not process what they were about to see. For they were not going to see Kiervam, or Felix Reed.\nThey saw a ragged and hunched figure donning the skull of a dead antler over a silver mortuary mask.\nThey were scared for an instant, and that instant was enough.\n_\n_\n\n++ FREEZE ++\n\nThe two girls became petrified, and so did Kiervan from the neural backlash, but there was a key difference... He knew what was happening: they didn't. The initial scare on the girls soon became terror.\n\n— _Drop weapon_ —\n\nThe spear, and a pair of knives fell to the ground. Was it worth risking a release of the neural command? Maybe. It was now or never.\nKiervan let go of his power.\nThe first thing the tomboy did was scream her lungs out in fear. The other instictively grabbed the lance much to Kiervan's despair. Thankfully for him, she was now too scared to realize she could kill him and instead went to defend her comanion. She covered the mouth of the other girl and grabbed her before running back to the forest.\n\nGood. Wait, no. Not good. Now he was in the middle of a field, dressed in antlers and his Azaryan war mask. If the guards saw him, they would kill such freak on sight.\nKiervan ran as fast as his ragged tunic allowed him, hoping that no one would see him enter back into the castle. Guards were already coming out of the door to investigate the noise as he leapt trough the window using a wind push.\n\nHe fell flat on his back. That had been close... Too close. He rapidly stood on his feet and ran towards his room...\n... Without realizing a broken piece of bone was left on the castle floor..."
}
] | 85 | 1,316 |
111.833333 | 2020-11-25 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\"Our numbers are around thirty or more so, \" The young knight pointed out, walking alongside the elderly knight as they made their way across the hallways. \"Currently, the troops are still making the perimeter around the villag-\" Before he could continue, a scream of a woman voice rose upon from them. Bryan immediately made his way to the nearest window and quickly takes notes of where did the voice came from. \n\nAs he looked out the window, he can see a part of the village and up ahead, was a dense forest before them. *But a scream in the night?* He thought, did someone went hunting in the night or something? That didn't matter now. Someone was in trouble, especially a woman. That is. He was barely able to take a quick notice of the shadows before they fades away into the valley of the forests.\n\nHe also saw someone was running towards the castle entrance, as if he was ina hurry or sort. *But why does he wore like a hermit or sort?* He wondered, the shadows barely made him able to see the appearance of the mysterious figure. \n\nWas it a villager from another village needed some help? Perhaps. Perhaps maybe. But that didn't matter now.\n\n\"I'll go, you stay here. My lord! \" He said, looking back at the elderly knight before giving a nod to his squire to follow him. \"Come!\" With that said, he breaks into the run."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\nThe meister had to change his clothes in a hurry, and no soon had he finished to hide the mask in his room that he could hear the sound of rushed steps coming from the dungeon.\n\nHe came out of his room, trying to hide the fact that he was out of breath.\n\"Where are you going?\" He asked Bryan."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus - Harronheart Country \n\nHis red capes that bear the symbol of the knights of the Ibethielian order swing as he runs through the hallways along his squire. As he ran, he soon stopped the moment as he came across a door that was opening. A familiar man appeared following it, Kiervan. That is. However, he seems to be... Sweating all over himself from his looks. \n\n\"To the forest,\" The young knight answered, while he kept on looking at his friend's body. \"Did you just take a bath or sort?\" He asked, confused as he looked very wet judging from his appearance."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"I... I did,\" Lied Kiervan \"But then there was this per.. This scream. It sounds as if someone were dying out there.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus - Harronheart Hallways\n\n\"...Yeah.\" He said, nodding a few times after hearing the response from his friend. \"Get a towel or sort, will ya\" He pointed out, putting his palm on his friend's shoulders as he dimly smiled before he stepped away from him. \"Also... Yes. And it came from the forest.\" He stated, looking at the nearest window nearby as he pointed out with his finger. \n\n\"Want to come along?\" The fellow knight asked."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"No\" Answered Felix. \"I want to finish cleaning up, this whole thing caught me halfway trough my bath. Besides, if the guards haven't found anything, I don't think we'll do any better.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "*Anything?* He thought, confused by what his friend just said. \"What do you mean they hasn't found anything yet?\" He said, his hands put onto both side of his waist. \"The searching just probably begun, my friend.\" He stated, looking awkwardly with a smile to his friend."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"Yes, yes. Of course.\" Felix remained lost in tought for a moment. \"Well, I'll go back to your quarters. Hopefully this whole thing will be forgotten by tomorrow.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart \n\n\"...Right.\" He spoke, and nodded once more to his friend. \"I'll be going then, probably be back in the morning or so.\" He said, giving his friend one last look before he turned his attention to his squire who stood beside him. \"Let go,\" And with that said, the fellow knight made his way across the hallways again. \n\nAs he arrives at the entrance of the castle gates, there was a small group of soldiers that was gathering around as its seems they were talking about what just happen minutes ago. \"Those who are here right now go make a patrol route around the forest.\" He ordered, looking around the soldiers while he grabbed a torch that has been lighted up nearby. \"Don't make it too far away thought, you might get onto the enemy territory out of nowhere somehow.\" He pointed out and shook his head for a moment.\n\nHe called one of the guards to bring over his horse along his squire own over here quickly. He hopped onto the saddles that was strap around his horse, grabbing his veins along with his free hand, while the other holding the torch. \"If I don't come back in hours,\" He said, turning his horse around as he looked at his soldiers once more. \"I'll be back in the morning, I assure you.\" He stated, reassuring his men for this matter. \n\nGiving a nod to his squire who stood ready at his side along with his horse, the two sets out for this matter. Towards the direction of the dense forest ahead of them, that is. Sooner or so, they eventually made their way into it. Walking at a steady pace, Bryan brought up his torch around to see if he could get any clue or sort. \"See anything nearby?\" He asked his squire."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert entered the Dungeon, he stood at the iron bars of Marius's cell.\n\n\"You do know Lancel is not my son right?\nHis claim may be the worst I have ever seen.\nYou don't owe allegiance to that brat.\"\n\nHubert watched Marius intently."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"Do you think I follow Lancel because he is your son? Gods, you remind me of my father...\" Marius paused to look on the ground. \"But no, I don't owe allegiance. I only owe him my life.\"\nHe looked back a Hubert with a resolute glare.\n\n\"Lord Hubert!\" Said Noëlle. \"I'm innocent! I didn't know Viktor had raped a townswoman. If you let me free I'll convince Lancel to abandon his claim, I can do anything, just give me a chance!\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert raised his hand and clenched it into a fist gesturing for Noelle to shut up.\n\n\"Listen Marius, if you abandon your promise to that thug, I will consider letting you go.\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Marius stood silent for a while, then said:\n\"I'll think about it.\"\n\n\"Bullshit!\" Screamed Noëlle. \"Don't listen to him! He won't turn Lancel over, but I will. He's just saying that to buy time. I, on the other hand, intend to keep my word as long as you keep yours and allow me to leave free...\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert walked towards Noelles cage and grabbed here by the front of her shirt and pulled her face into bars.\n\n\"I said, SHUT UP!\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"Don't touch her!\" Erwan, who until now had remained quiet, struck at hubert's hand in an attempt to free her."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert's hand was struck, and he retracted it with a light yelp, and backing away from the cell.\n\n\"Both of you will hang, dawn will be coming soon.\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "As the old knight made his way out of the dungeon, he could hear the echo of he voices. Believing him gone, the prisioners had begun to speak among themselves:\n\n\"I... Will hang?\" Asked Noelle. \"But I've been more willing to help them than Falke, yet he will be forgiven. Why...?\"\nHer voice became a faint whisper as hope began to leave her body.\n\"Why...?\"\n\n\"Because you're a rat,\" Said Marius. \"Lancel's father will may be a despot, but even he can smell the stink of treachery coming from you. He never meant to spare any of us. You're Bastardblood, Noelle: do you think a man who disowned his own son to spare himself the shame would let me live? No, he only wants to see me renounce Lancel like he did, but I won't give him the pleasure.\nI will die with honour. So will Erwan, in his own way. Whereas you Noelle? You will die like you lived: weeping, scared, ashamed...\"\n\n\"At least I lived,\" She answered. \"You spend your entire life at the service of others. Looks like a bastard like me was destined to die like trash after all, but at least I tried to escape that fate\".\n\n\"Shut up,\" Erwan told them. \"I don't want to spend the last night of my life bickering with you. Marius and I knew what were doing when we stepped in to save the others, and you were just unlucky. What are you going to do about it?\" Both of them became quiet. \"That's right. Now, let me see the moon.\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert stood, out of sight, listening to the prisoners bicker amongst themselves, his pride wasn't hurt at their remarks, he knew they would pay in due course.\nHubert began to think, what if Lancel managed to get his claim legally recognized? What if he couldn't defeat their band of raiders.\nHe considered sparing them, truly. But he also felt a deep seeded hatred, these prisoners had killed people on his land, he could let that stand.\nHubert left the prisoners to some silence."
}
] | 70.5 | 2,013 |
60 | 2020-11-29 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert entered the hall for breakfast, it was apparent he had not slept a wink, nevertheless he sat down at the long table and awaited his meal, he looked around at the various people at his table, and noticed Felix.\nHe could see something was up, Felix was a bit tense looking."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"Ah, Sir knig... I mean, Lord Hubert,\" Said Felix. \"I see we all had to wake up long before sunrise.\"\n\nHe pulled the wooden bowl and spoon towards him.\n\n\"My apologies for... For the trouble we have caused. I heard that Bryan and you got into a fight.\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"Bryan doesn't understand his place here.\"\n\nHubert frowned.\n\n\"I do hope he grows in wisdom.\nSpeaking of Sir Bryan, where is he?\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"He went out with the guards. Hopefully not too far away.\""
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, SB Hideout\n\nA small ray of light peeked through the rock layer as Vaughn's eyes slowly peaked open. To his surprise he didn't know where he could possibly be. Sir Bryan wasn't around and neither was Sir Hubert. As he awoke his hickory colored hair, dropping past his ears met his beard which was formerly stubble. It had seemed as if he was out for some time. Could he have drunk too much? As he looked around he came to notice that he was in a cage.\n\n**\"Bloody hell.\"**\n\nHe would say as his hands met the bars. All of his equipment was gone."
}
] | 60 | 300 |
118.923077 | 2020-11-30 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\"Oh, you awake.\" A familiar voice rise up behind Vaughn's back. Behind him, lies another cage. It was Bryan, who's been sitting in his cage for probably hours since this happen. \"We got captured while we sleeping, I think.\" He explained briefly, looking around his surroundings for a moment before looking at himself. He, too, felt a bit disappointment. For such a knight to be captured, that is.\n\n\"Or, that's what I thought.\" He smiled dimly as he looked back on Vaughn."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**The Sable Brotherhood's hideout**\n\nThe cages were suspended in what appeared to be a cave. The sound of water could be heard from all directions, hinting at a waterfall or subterranean river nearby.\nOther noise could be heard echoing in the distance: someone sharpening a blade, two teenagers fucking, a campfire, the shouts of a group outside.\n\nThe cavern was warm. Vapour made it's way from the depths of the cavern to the opening above. Judging by the amount of light that came trough it, it was early in the morning.\n\n\"Well, look who decided to wake up\"\n\nBelow Bryan and Vaughn, a blonde was sitting with his legs crossed. He was the one who had thrown the first spear the day before.\n\n\"Had been left to me, I would've cut your fingers so you'd never be able to hold a sword against us ever again. Alas, many of us got caught because of you yesterday. Erwan, and that Redlin cunt. I would've let them die, but the old coot captured Lancel's pet Falke, so now we will be negotiating with you as hostages.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "\"Negotiating at this moment of times now?\" He asked, pointing his finger at the direction where he could see the light of the sun came from.\"...You might've been a bit too late then.\" He stated, looking back at the blonde man with a grimace/smile look on his face. \n\n\"The execution is starting this morning.\" The fellow knight pointed out."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Sable Brotherhood Hideout\n\nVaughn's hands met the cool metal bars before briefly looking down to see the blonde. He had remembered him as the boy who threw the spear. He didn't particularly have much to say to him. However as he stroked the small bit of beard hair that lied on his chin he couldn't help but gather a small smirk. Upon closer inspection of the bars he had a plan of sorts. Although he didn't know if it would work he thought that it'd be worth a try."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "The blonde boy made a disgusting grimace:\n\n\"Don't act so cocky. If they die, you die. Lancel and Syanna rode south to show Horace our terms. If they don't come back before noon, I will get to flay you alive.\n\nThat being said: Regina has a question for you.\"\n\nFrom the shadows stepped forward the blonde girl with the half-shaved head. She looked to the dangling cages above with a ghostly gaze. She had not been able to sleep that night.\n\n\"The witch, or the creature at hubert's castle. What do you know about it?\" She asked."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout\n\n\"Flay me alive?\" He said sarcastically, giving the blonde man a surprising look before he turns it into a serious expression upon his face. \"All I see is kids who doesn't even know the arts of war at all from my view.\" He snapped back, pointing out what he had saw during the duel yesterday.\n\nHe turned and looked over at the girl who called him to answer her question. She mentioned about a witch or sort. Bryan looked confused in respond. \n\n\"Don't know what you talking about.\" He answered, nodding his head in response while he scratches the back of his hair for a moment. However, it made Bryan curious somehow. \"...Why ask something that I don't even know about? Or so, I supposedly should?\" He pointed out, looking back at the woman with a calm look."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"You know what I'm talking about! Horace has a blasphemous creature guarding his castle! Viktor, let's torture these fools.\" She snapped.\n\n\"They probably told the truth Regina.\" Said Vicktor mockingly. \"What can you expect from _masters in the art of war_ that were stupid enough to venture alone in the forest at night? That's not even basic warfare strategy, it's common sense.\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up Randholm! You don't believe me either!\"\n\n\"Well, you did say you were paralyzed by the spell of a faerie or something. If you ask me? I'd say you and Syanna simply got cold feet.\"\n\n\"Enough!\" Regina turned towards the caged men. \"Let them speak.\""
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, SB Hideout\n\nAs they began to ramble, Vaughn remained quiet as he aimed on finding a way out of the cage. He was sure not to make obvious movements. For now he simply leaned back as he listened in on what they were saying."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout\n\n\"Blasphemous creatures?\" He said, rubbing his chins about it. Thinking about it deeply, or was he? He quickly looked back and gave the woman a smile. \"Nope, don't recall such things in the castle.\" The fellow knight answered, cheerfully.\n\nHe slowly turned his attention back to the blonde men who mentioned about why did they venture through the forests yesterday night. \"Well, we heard someone scream.\" He explained briefly. \"So we decided to check it out.\" He said, and then, let out his arms freely.\n\n\"And here we are now, in a cave fills with a ragtag band of bastards kids. That is.\" He exclaimed, nodding respectfully to them."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"A scream? That was Syanna\" Said Regina. \"I covered her mouth and got us out of there. And you tell me you didn't know what that horned... Thing was?\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "*Ahh..* He thought. *So, they were the ones who made this happen in the first place.* By that, he meant indirectly. That is. Had the scream not happen, he's probably still be at the castle by now along with his squire. \n\n\"I don't really get on what you on about, to be exact.\" The fellow knight answered, looking back at her as he scratches the back of his hair again. \"We just heard a scream and scramble some patrols to search about what had happen. I didn't came across a horned thing or whatever sort you were referring to.\" He explained."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, SB Hideout\n\nVaughn was quiet if anything. He didn't seem to listen to the conversation down below. However he did listen to a few words here and there. He began to feel around on the bars, checking for any sediment or weak points."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "The cages were suspeneded in the air by pulleys, and the keys could be seen hanging in one of the walls.\n\nSwinging the cage around could maybe be enough to reach them, but it could only be done while nobody was a \nRound. Were the cages swing too far and hit the wall, the metallic clang would reverberate across the entire cave network of the hideout.\n\n\n\n\"Whatever\" Said Regina. \"Soon we'll lean it from the old ogre. He loves to flaunt his might after all.\"\n\nAnd turning on her heels, she left the cave, shortly followed by Randholm."
}
] | 125 | 1,546 |
121.4 | 2020-12-01 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert woke quite late, it was about (11 AM) and the prisoners had not been hanged yet, Hubert had something to look forward to, he was excited to see those traitorous thieving scum hang.\nHubert got up, his nightgown draped down to his knee's, he stretched and yawned, before properly clothing himself in the attire of a nobleman, a fancy one too, this was a special occasion.\nHe strolled into the lounge and had his breakfast prepared for him.\nHe looked around for his companions, but didn't really care as to what they were up to, he then began eating his early morning meal."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\nThe young meister joined the table not long after.\n\nHe sat and began to eat his food quietly. He had chosen to eat cereal paste, in spite of the meat and fat offered by the chef. Almost as if to keep with his vagabond Melsi appeareance.\n\n\"No news of the lost knight?\" Felix broke the silence.\n\nThere was a worried look on his face. But it wasn't the distress that Hubert had seen on the faces of his prisioners.\n\nIt was... Something else. Felix was worried about something in the clouded future."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert didn't pick up on the worry Felix had, as he was occupied with his meal.\n\n\"I haven't seen them, but I wouldn't worry they are stronger than they are smart.\"\n\nHubert chuckled to himself for a moment before finishing his meal.\n\n\"Lets hang some thugs!\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Felix took a couple seconds to react.\n\n\"Do not hang all of them. Start with one to draw the others out.\nI say you kill the fat one. The big guy and the pretty gal might get you some coin if you sell them as slaves.\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert laughed at the young lad ordering him at his own table, but decided to humor him.\n\n\"I'd love to, but that *Pretty gal* Is a cowardly wench that deserves to die slowly, and trust me, this wont be a quick hanging.\"\n\nHubert thought for a moment \n\n\"We can spare one perhaps.\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"One? If not the girl, then who?\"\n\nFelix had no time to get Hubert's answer. In the distance, a group of seven riders approched, and the household guard in the watchtower was quick to shout to warn the castle of their approach."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert had sort of seen this coming and heading to the gatehouse wall to await them, he ordered archers to accompany him to the wall."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "The riders had approached the wall under the flag of Parley, but upon seeing the archers, more than half tried to turn back.\nA single rider rallied them up, and forced them to go forward. Hubert could recognize him immediately: Lancel himself had come to the Harronkeep."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert laughed loud enough for Lancel to hear him\n\n\"Are you braindead you little brat?\"\n\nHubert stood at the walls his hands on the stone railing, he whistled to his retainer and ordered him to bring his sword, and to fetch the prisoners.\n\n\"This had better be good.\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "The young man pulled his horse closer, within firing range of the archers. The parlay flag on one hand, a shield in the other.\n\n\"FATHER!\" He shouted. \"We have you hounds in chains! And we know your secret! We have come to offer you a deal: two prisioners for two prisioners! And a duel of honour in exchange for my silence to the Order Militant of the faith! Let's settle this once and for all!\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "It suddenly dawned on Hubert.\n\"Shit.\"\nHubert thought for a moment, before telling a servant to fetch the prisoners.\n\"Its your word against mine you little shit!\"\nHubert shouted at the top of his lungs."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "\"Your word? What is your word even worth? You're a heretic!\" This time, it wasn't Lancel who shouted, but the girl on the horse to his right \"You shelter abominations to Saris under your roof!\"\n\nShe was the only Member of the Sable Brotherhood aside from Lancel. The other five all looked far older than the reaver brats. One of them was particularly grizzled: it was no doubt the leader."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO!\"\nHubert had just about had it, and discreetly grabbed a bow and nocked an arrow waiting for her sincere apology.\n\"My word is worth far more than all of yours combined, you are outlawed thieves!\"\nHubert yelled from the tall wall."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, SB Hideout\n\nVaughn sat quietly in the suspended cage. After a further inspection of the metal cage his eyes caught site of a certain metal. They dangled on one of the walls. It was their key out of there! As he turned to Bryan a small smirk came across his face. As he looked down he could only see a few guards. However, if he were to swing discreetly enough, maybe they wouldn't notice. As his hands met the rails he began to push back and forth. The cage began to move forward and backward until it picked up momentum. As he neared the keys he lunged forward as his hand stuck out before grasping the keys. A small jingle was heard as they landed in his hands. As the cage began to lose its momentum it came to a sudden stop. Vaughn would put the key in the lock before turning it, unlocking the cage. However, as it unlocked he would keep his hand on the bar so it would look as if nothing unusual had happened. As he looked to Bryan he would reach his hand through the side bar before handing it off to him."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Bryan was thinking about what was gonna happen soon. As they mentioned earlier, they will be heading out to Harronheart soon. *That means some of their member should be still around guarding this hideout.* He thought about it. A escape plan must be made quickly.\n\nUntil of course, he heard rattling noises of a key or sort nearby. His thoughts interrupted as he turn and looked. The key, just right in front of him as it held by his friend, Vaughn.\n\n\"You lucky bastard!\" Bryan answered quietly, happily as he said about it. He reached out his hand for it as he quickly grabbed it over to his side. And, later on. Unlocking his cage."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Right as they had finished to unlock his cage, an unwashed man entered the cave.\nHe was older than the members of the Sable Brotherhood, and looked like a brigand.\n\nNot realizing that the cages were unlocked, due to Vaughn having closed the doors, the man felt confident enough to mock them.\n\n\"I see ye' prisioners are awake. It was 'bout time if you ask me. Hope ye' will like the smell of mah piss!\"\n\nAnd dropping his trousers, he began to piss on the ground below the cages."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, SB Hideout\n\nVaughn held the cage closed he would hear a sound nearby from below. As he looked down he would see a rather older member of the SB. A small stern look came across his face as he heard the man insult them. As he began to piss below the cages he would force open the cage before dropping down onto the man. As he fell down onto him he would quickly force his fist into his face, as he punched him with a clean right hook. As it landed he quickly grabbed the man's sword. The double edged blade was held in hand as he waited for Sir Bryan to follow."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout\n\nUpon this, Bryan held his cage before he opens it. Waiting for the right time as the old man starts to... Pee on the ground before them? People do be giving away their dignity, huh? The fellow knight thought, however the old man was not aware of what just happen.\n\nTurning to Vaughn, the two knew what their next move was. Bryan gave a smirk to it, and get ready when the time comes. Then, Vaughn went in first. Jumping on the man before them.\n\nFollowing behind was Bryan as he open his cage and swiftly jump from it as well. Landing on the man below him with his legs to make sure he's knock out from the force of his landing."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "The changing weight of the cage meant the trajectory of the drop was slightly off course. Bryan's fall dislocated the bandit's shoulder, making him scream, but not for long.\nVaughn fell after Bryan, knocking the man out cold, and cracking one of his ribs.\n\nThe scream wasn't enough to alert the Sable Brotherhood, but it was enough to draw suspicion. The young knight and his friend could hear the sound of several men closing in from all sides...\n\n... They would have to fight their way out.\n\n**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\nFelix saw the household servant come back with Erwan and a wound in his forehead. Had he struggled with bringing the prisioner? No, the chubby boy was as dead inside as ever. Maybe he tried grab the girl? Had to be. Felix could not imagine the servant dragging the brotherhood's champion up there on his own.\n\n\"Don't play dumb old man!\" Shouted Lancel from below. \"Syanna and Regina ran into your witch last night! We know that you're making unholy pacts with the creatures of this forest! Or... Whatever that was!\nYour word against mine? I know you won't let it come to that! If you do, we'll denounce you!\"\n\nWitch? Last night? Fuck! That was him! Feli- no... Kiervan! And worse still, everyone else, from Hubert to the guards had probably begun to form a loose idea of what Lancel was talking about by now. They had heard the scream last night.\n\n\"Don't listen to them.\" He said. The words were meant as much for Hubert as for the guards. \"He is just slandering the name of Lord Horace.\"\n\nFuck! His voice came out with less resolve than he had hoped for. At least he didn't stutter."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert stood for a moment before deciding he was not going to take any more shit from this kid and personally loosed an arrow at the woman who spoke earlier, his aim was true, perfect, and the arrow was strong and heavy, barbed too, if it were to land it would kill whomever it had been embedded in."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Syanna raised her shield, only to be pierced by the arrow. The impact changed the arrow's trajectory, but the barbs of the arrow managed to rip some flesh near her shoulder.\n\n\"BASTARD!\" Shouted Lancel upon hearing her scream. He had suddenly been consumed by blind rage. \"I should've expected it from you, spineless cunt! My sable brothers told me I was in idiot for trying to reason with you, and they were right!\nIf you never had any intention of releasing our brothers, whose sole crime was fighting in self defense, then so be it!\nYou want war? We will give you war! I will take what is mine by force! What YOU, denied ME!\"\n\nAnd spitting on the ground, Lancel turned his horse around. The rest followed. The girl covering her arm, the bandit leader with a huge grin on his face. It was clear that the latter had hoped for such a devellopment.\n\nFelix didn't know what to think. He was relieved that the witch was dismissed as slander, but he didn't like the idea of getting caught in a fight between the Horace soldiers and the brigands of the Brotherhood. Not one bit."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout\n\n*Oh... That ain't great.* He thought about the man they landed at as he heard cracking noises out of him. A few bones must've been broke for sure. However, that didn't stop him kept moving somehow.\n\nTheir things were nearby, Bryan went on to it quickly. Grabbing his scabbard as he ties it to his waist, He didn't waste any time of drawing his sword out.\n\nHe held his sword firmly, as he heard the noises of footstep approaching their place. Bryan guessed there were probably a few were still around.\n\nThey had two way out, Bryan decided to went to the other exit as he knew what was going on the former. \"Let go!\" He said to his friend, breaking onto a run as he head towards it."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert laughed, glad he could annoy the little brat, just then the servant arrived with the prisoner Erwan, still in cuffs.\n\n\"Lancel! You looking for this shit stain?\""
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Sable Brotherhood Hideout\n\nAs Vaughn had knocked the man out he would take a rusty blade from the man's scabbard. He held it firmly in hand before following behind Bryan to their things. He would quickly put them on with haste as he feared being caught off guard by the other Sable Brotherhood members that lurked inside. As he finished putting his garments on he would quickly take his double edged short sword in his right hand. To his surprise, Sir Bryan took the words right out of his mouth. He quickly followed behind him with sword in hand saying,\n\n\"Right behind you!\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout\n\nThe fellow knight made his way across the caves tunnels, running as the two try to find an exit for themselves as fast as he could. The events was in set, time is running. Each moment counts now to them. As the two ran, they soon came across a small group of the brotherhood members. Three of them, to be exact. Guarding a place where they were heading. \n\nThey were all armed, for sure. But did they has the skill for it? The fellow knight thought. The nearest guard was guarding their exit when the two came. Startled, the guard was slow to draw his sword. It cost him. Bryan kicked him in the midsection once, forcing him to drop the weapon, and then once more. He toppled off from his stand to the rocky earth below, but not before Bryan had seized his sword. \n\nThe remaining guard also had the same reaction, as the two quickly get up on his feet around the fire camp they were chilling with. One of them paid for the move with his life, as Bryan hurled the sword he had seized barely moment ago across the distance straight into the guard's chest. \n\nOnce that was done, Bryan quickly get on with it and kept on running on the direction where they were going. The remaining guard should be easily deal by Vaughn for sure. And he surely knows he'll follow him for sure afterwards."
}
] | 98 | 3,035 |
136.375 | 2020-12-02 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**The Sable Brotherhood's Hideout**\n\nThe whole hideout could be described as a subterranean hot spring. The geotermically heated groundwater flooded many of the tunnels and caves creating many small waterfalls as it made it's way from one side of the hideout to the other.\n\nSuch noise was able to hide Sir Bryan and Vaugh, who were now running over an underground landscape of steamy ponds and moss covered stones.\n\nAlas, it wasn't long until they were spotted. For while the caves were noisy, they weren't exactly narrow: big, long, flat caves, made the vast majority of the hideout.\n\n\"The prisioners! They're escaping!\" A brunette girl shouted the alarm, drawing an arrow from her quiver and preparing to fire at the young knight and his squire.\n\nNot everyone heard her cry however, as the noise of running water drowned her scream to all save for half a dozen of bandits, who rushed to her aid with swords, clubs, shields and spears in hand.\n\nThey ran across the springs, splashing water all around them as they closed in on Bryan and Vaughn, just as the girl began to unleash her arrows on them."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout\n\nThe fellow knight kept on sprinting toward their exit, which is just right in front of him. They were in a river stream or sort, from his view but he couldn't kept up with it. Just as he turned back to gave a quick look at his friend, the first thing he saw was an tip of a arrow just went pass by him narrowly. Barely, almost barely hit him. That must've scared some life out of his heart. \n\nNot turning back anymore, Bryan only had one common thing in his mind. **Run.** That's what he thought. His first priority of all, that is. \"Run!\" He shouted, as he kept on going. Jumping even, as the water splashes following it. He had his sword drawn firmly in his right hand, ready to fight back just in case.\n\nThey were soon reaching the end of it, and soon into the exit. Into the fray where their escape lies before them."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cave Hideout\n\nOne of the bandits tackled him in an attempt to stop him, making both of them fall into the shallow waters of the hot spring.\nThe brigand lost his axe in the chaos of the fall, so he attempted to stab Bryan with a rusty knife instead."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout entrance\n\nAs the fellow knight ran, he tried to dodge one of the bandits move at him as he tackles him. He failed, and dropped onto the shallow waters of the hot spring. But he held onto the grip of his longsword tightly.\n\nHe was wet now, water soaked his attire as he gets up on his feet. Of course, he was met by a fierceful but reckless opponent for sure. With a thrusting stab toward him, Bryan quickly step aside, his leg run loosely as he narrowly dodge it. Following it was a quick slash to the back of the bandit with a single swipe from his longsword before continuing move on forward where he started."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cave Hideout\n\nThe man screamed as his blood dyed the water red. But his sacrifice had, unfortunately, not been in vain. Two of the remaining five brigands had managed to catch up to Bryan, while a third was charging recklessly towards Vaughn. He no doubt wanted to make up for the gap in skill with sheer ferocity."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout Entrance\n\nThe fellow knight easily blocked a blade strike with his own edged steel, then deftly twisted his wrist to send the guard's weapon soaring uselessly across the river stream. The bandit's side was left open for just an instant. Bryan was there, stabbing forward with his right hand. Eight inches of steel pierced the bandit's heart and he fell as Bryan dodged the blow of another bandit, coming upward with a cruel grin on his boyish face. \n\nDamn, but he was good. His sword was an extension of his arm. The knight turned with military precision, seizing the bandit by the shoulder, and held him there as he ran him through with his sharp and longsword."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cave hideout.\n\nSuddenly, an arrow hit the knight's unarmored shoulder. The archer girl... But how? How could she have managed to aim at Bryan in the midst of the melee?\n\nShe hadn't. The bitch had fired with complete disregard for her allies. And as if to prove the point, a second arrow came through, but this time it hit the bandit's body.\n\nHe didn't scream, Bryan's blade had killed him in a single stroke."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout.\n\nA sudden white-hot pain shot through his right shoulder and the grip on his sword loosened. An arrow has protruded from his arm. Furious, the fellow knight grabbed the bolt and yanked it out. A bandit charged him and managed to knock the sword out of his hands, sending it spinning through the air out of reach. \n\nHe paid for it, though. Bryan used the bloody bolt as a weapon himself, stabbing it down into the man's shoulder and kicking him backwards. When the bandit turned, Bryan quickly snatched his blade on the ground and took great satisfaction in seeing its slim shape as he charges in, piercing the guard's heart. \n\nThat was more like it. The blade has thrust into the man chest deeply as the knight pushed him hard toward the wall behind him. Despite the searing pain in his arm, Bryan seized another bandit nearby and, using the man's own blade as a leverage around his neck, before slitting the throat swiftly with it."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Cave hideout\n\nThe lone remaining bandit and the archer girl decided to flee, leaving the path ahead unobstructed. It wouldn't be long until they came back with reinforcements though...\n\n**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\nFelix saw Lancel stop as soon as Hubert announced he had the prisioner. He turned his horse once again towards the gates on Harronkeep and advanced slowly.\n\nHe didn't say anything. He merely waited to see what Hubert was about to do.\n\n\"He's going to stay for his friend,\" Said Felix. \"But we don't plan on releasing him, do we?\" He asked the old knight."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, SB Hideout Entrance\n\nAs Vaughn saw the two flew a small grimace went across his face. From his point of view the Sable Brotherhood acted like a pack or rats. If you killed a few, then more shall return in their place. As he looked to Bryan he would nod to him before working his way out of the hideout."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout Entrance\n\nThe fellow knight stood firmly, despite the pain he held within his shoulder. The adrenaline punches in, flowing through the veins of his blood. Taking a few deep breath within the surroundings, he followed right behind Vaughn this time, as he led the way for them for now."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert took one look at the prisoner, and with one swift motion drew his sword and decapitated him, the head rolled to the floor, a final look of horror on its face, Hubert picked up the head off the floor. And threw it over the wall, the head landed but a few meters from Lancel.\n\n\"This is the price all of you will pay!\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\nLancel remained in his horse. Long seconds spent staring at Hubert, but Felix felt as if the gaze was piercing him.\nHe saw Lancel get off his horse and carefuly grabbed Erwan's head, holding it close to his chest, still in complete silence.\n\nAfter carefully wrapping it in his cape he turned his horse around and and left. The parley flag was left abandoned on the ground.\n\nWas this his fault? Would the negotiations have failed this bad if he only hadn't come out last night? If he had told the truth? Hubert would've known they were not trying to insult him...\n...But then it would be his head on the ground instead of Culberth's. There was no choice. This quarrel between Ibbishmen was insignificant in the grander scheme of history, but his life and work were not.\n\n\"What now?\" He asked Hubert. \"They're going to execute Sir Bryan. Why did you do that?\"\n\nSir Bryan... Another thing that was Kiervan's fault."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"It isn't your place to question me, negotiating with brigands is beneath me.\"\n\nHubert looked at his bloodied sword, and watched Lancel depart.\n\n\"Worry not, I am sure he will return to us, in due course.\"\n\nWith that Hubert began walking back to his hall."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Karronkeep Castle**\n\n\"How do you know he will come back here? Shouldn't we be worried that he will escape the county once he kills Sir Bryan, or that he will attack the village in retaliation?\"\n_\n_\n\n_\n_\n**Sable Brotherhood's hideout entrance**\n\nNo one was guarding the exit, they all had rushed inside and were looking for the captives in the caves. The cave entrance had a campfire and a pile of weapons where Bryan and Vaughn could recognize their stashed armor. There was however, no sign of their swords. There wasn't also any horses: they all had been taken somewhere else. But for what purpose?"
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, SB Hideout Entrance\n\n\"Well,\" Bryan spoke, his right hand holding onto his wound as he looked over at Vaughn. \"I guess most of them has left already, its seems.\" He said, after taking a look around the surroundings. He assumed that most of them had already left for Hubert Castle.\n\n*That means time is running.* That's what he thought first. Bryan grimaced hard. They gotta go now, for sure.\n\n\"There.\" He pointed out, as he recognize his chain mail nearby. Along with a pile of weapons, that is. It's seems that the bandit did take their stuff but didn't use them, from his view.\n\nThe knight slowly approaches it. First thing he did was getting his chain mails on, or hauberk on. It should help him to cover his wounds for now. The second thing that Bryan did was taking an quiver of arrows that was part of the piles of weapon following with a wooden bow, that is.\n\nHe pulled the string a few times, to see if its in good condition."
}
] | 138 | 2,182 |
168.714286 | 2020-12-04 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Forest\n\n\nRipping a small part of his tunic as a makeshift bandage for the wound in his shoulder, Bryan gave a nod to his friend as they head out from the hideout. \n\nTaking a arrow from the quiver he wears it on his back, he held his guard high. Watching the surroundings around him to see if anything or sort moves out of a sudden.\n\nThey went down the hill, toward the supposed direction of where Harronheart should be. Bryan hope nothing bad happens on the way back to it."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Harronheart County's forest\n\nIn the distance, the could hear the sounds of horses. They were approaching fast. Sable Brotherhood members? Allies? The young men had little time to decide if they wanted to hide or meet the incoming riders."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Forest\n\n\"Hide.\" He whisper quickly, as he turned and ran into the nearest bushes. Diving into it for cover, quickly.\n\nBryan take a nock with the arrow he held along with the bow as he ready themselves for what is to come. In his mind, the fellow knight thought it would be the Sable Brotherhood considering no one would walk along this path that is nearby their hideout.\n\nHe held a deep breath, readying himself for it."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Harronheart forest\n\nFive riders appeared in the horizon: Lancel, the short-haired girl, and four brigands. One of them in particular looked grizzled and scarred, but fearsome.\nWhen they were about to pass in the arrow's firing range, he ordered the others to stop.\n\n\"Wait,\" He said. \"I saw something red\".\n\nBryan's cape? The others pulled out their shields. The girl had trouble doing so, for she was wounded in one of her arms. Then the bandit pulled out his sword... Pristine, masterfully wrought... Not his sword: Bryan's sword."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Forest\n\nAs he dived into the bushes, he was able to get cover behind it. However, he felt something stuck. Bryan looked over at it, his red capes. Before he could even try to pull it over, their guest had arrived. The sound of galloping hooves, the fellow knight assumed it was a group of riders as he didn't look back at all. But he was sure of it that they were hostile. Or, was it?\n\nHe didn't know about that, sweat started pouring down his head as he waited for the group to move along their path. Until, they stopped. That is. One of the riders mentioned something \"Red\" Thingy or sort on the group. Bryan grimaced hard, it was now or never. He heard the hissing noises of swords being drawn from their scabbard. Now Bryan was sure that they were hostiles now.\n\nVaughn lay right beside him, looking at Bryan incredulously about what is to happen. \"Great.\" He muttered, and grimaced hard as well.\n\nLooking at the surroundings around him for a moment, the only way out Bryan saw was a downhill slide just right before him. Use the environment to your advantages. He thought, one of many things he had learned from his training during his time as a squire. He looked back onto Vaughn as he shrugged and reluctantly shook his head as he then pushed him down. Sliding down the grassy hill In the shady forest. He barely managed to get up on his feet after such things happened.\n\nWhile that happens, Bryan immediately unties the cape collar around his neck and quickly gets up on his feet. He turned, and took a quick now with his bow along a quick and precise aim at the group of hostiles. The young knight recognized quite a few of them, they were part of the brotherhood but the grizzled and old guy? He wasn't sure of him. He didn't care that much anyways, as he quickly released the deadly arrow to its target once he got his sight before he jumped onto the fray. Sliding down the hill swiftly as he regroups with his squire as they make a run for it."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Harronheart Forest.\n\n\"False alarm\" Said Lancel.\n\n\"No.\" The scarred man replied with a dry and cutting voice. Kept his hand in the air. \"We're being tailed.\"\n\n\"By who? My father?\"\nHe couldn't finish the phrase because an arrow passed right beside the old brigand's head.\n\n\"Spread out! Trough the ridge! Get that archer!\" He ordered his brigands. The tree of them went rougly in Bryan and Vaugn's direction, swords in hand an eyes peeled.\nThey seemed to be aware of their presence, but they still hadn't noticed them. Lancel, Syanna, and the old brigand followed close behind."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "The adrenaline punches in, and the young knight felt the life within him was burning on his fire. He had to kept looking back and forth, to see if his enemies were onto them. Bryan assumed they were, but he couldn't see their presence yet, for now.\n\nScurrying squirrels searched for food under bristles of wispy moss. Berries lay ripening under the leafy dome of the tree as they ran past by. The teak-brown forest was a woody heaven for nature, that is.\n\nThey turn corners in each direction as long as they stick to their path. *We just gotta keep on moving a bit little further.* He thought. Harronheart should be nearby as he recall since they didn't went that last night. Not to mentioned, one of the girls that he met earlier in the cave was part of the group of riders as well."
}
] | 128 | 1,181 |
173 | 2020-12-05 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Harronheart forest\n\nOne of the bandits moved dangerously close. He could hear them and called for aid, but was still unable to see them. He moved with spear in hand, trotting his horse downhill, in a state of alert. He was unlucky however, as getting so close without being able to set eyes on Bryan made him vulnerable to an ambush. The others were closing on his position, taking him down would be risky, but at the same town it could alloe Bryan and his squires to shake one of their porsuers."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Forest\n\nBryan took a quick glimpse on his back, and saw one of the riders were closing onto them where they were now. \n\n\"You, go ahead. I'll catch up with ya in a sec!\" He spoke fast. Vaughn reluctantly nodded his head and obey the command as he went on before him.\n\nBryan stops at where he were, as he quickly turned to the direction where the rider he spotted was coming from. Grabbing an arrow from the quiver at his back, the fellow knight take a nock with his bow, aimed at his target for just a few seconds he needed. He held a breath before he fired.\n\nThe arrow was released from its owner, heading toward its supposed target. It flew fast, a whistling noise as it cuts through the air but where it was hitting at? The rider? The rider arm so he couldn't throw his spear?\n\nNo... Instead. It went straight for the horse itself. The sharp tip of the arrow went in fast toward the area of where the horse heart should be. It should be enough to slow them down for now.\n\nAfter releasing the shot, Bryan quickly gets back onto his track, following right behind Vaughn."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\nFrom the battlements of Hubert's castle, Feliz stared into the Horizon. Why had he come here again? To counsel Sir Horace? To help out Sir Bryan? But the young knight was soon to be dead, and the old one refused all advice. Not to mention war was coming: Horace had made very clear that there would be no truce with the Lordsblood reavers.\n\nThen a couple figures came out of the forest, one of them wearing a red cape. He recognized the cape instantly and ran downstairs to warn hubert of what he had just seen.\n\n\"Lord Horace!\" He said. \"You were right. They're back! Sir Bryan and his squire are back!\""
}
] | 154 | 519 |
58.75 | 2020-12-07 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert now quite a distance from the battlements, heard Felix's cry, and came running to the walls.\nHe peered into the dark wood on the horizon, and spotted the red cape, Hubert smiled but anxiously called archers to the walls once more, in the event that they were followed.\n\n\"Good eyes lad!\"\n\nHubert said to young Felix."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\n\"Heh, looks like those lordsblood punks were lying after all. Hostages and witches... Idiotic bunch, all of them.\"\n\nFelix sounded much more confident in his speech than before. Still, Bryan did look battered, hinting at him having gone trough quite the ordeal."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert gave a firm pat on the back to Felix, and ordered the gate to be opened.\n\n\"Say, Felix, what have you heard about the whole witch ordeal? I've been asking some of the soldiers, but to no avail...\""
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Castle remparts**\n\n\"Do not worry about it. They lied about having Sir Bryan hostage, why would they tell the truth about the witch? Do you even have a witch Lord Horace?\""
}
] | 58.5 | 235 |
96.666667 | 2020-12-08 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Castle Entrance\n\nThe fellow knight entered the gate of the castle quickly, his wounds has been open over the course of it. He clutched his hand onto it in order to pressure the wound. One of the men that was guarding the gates approaches them at ease about what have happen. \"Get ready for battle,\" He said, heavily breathing about it. \"Organize the soldiers, get the peoples inside the castle now.\" He looked back at the soldier with a serious expression upon his face.\n\nHe looked back over to his friend. \"Get my armor, and a bandage or sort.\" He command, this wasn't a time to take jokes now. Events are in set, their time are running out soon."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronheart Castle Entrance\n\nVaughn followed closely behind Sir Bryan as a weathered expression laid on his face. He stood still as his hickory colored hair draped itself onto his shoulders. As he heard Bryan tell him to get the armor he would give him a quick nod before running to do so. As he made his way in he would hurry as there wasn't much time to waste at all."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert watched his soldiers mobilise under the orders of Sir Bryan, and Hubert himself took position on the wall with the archers, he knew a full battle would not break out, the enemy did not have the numbers for a siege."
}
] | 87 | 290 |
150.166667 | 2020-12-09 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\nEveryone stood on edge for long minutes. The soldiers kept their fingers on the bowstrings, ready to draw aim at the first hint of movement.\nHovever, nothing came out of the forest. Bryan had not been followed.\n\nAlas, just when Felix tought he could breath a sigh of relief, something happened...\nA single horseman came from the road, not the forest. He was bloodied and battered, and on the verge of collapse. He couldn't reach the walls before he fell down from his horse.\n\nHe was too old to be a member of the Sable Brotherhood, and didn't look rough enough to be a brigand. What could he be?\n\nBut Felix and the others didn't have to wait long to have their question answered. In the distance, a column of smoke began to rise against the pale sky.\n\n\"The village!\" Shouted Felix. \"They're not attacking the castle! They're attacking the village!\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Castle\n\nAfter bandaging his wounds with another layer on it, the fellow knight gathered along the others on the walls. This time, he was fully worn in chain mails around him. With a coif of mails covering his head like a hood, while he also wore metal protectors around his shoulders and his arms. He also held a silver but shining helmet at his side as he hasn't wear it yet.\n\n\"What's going on?\" He asked, as he saw the mens was looking at something in the distance. Bryan make his ways through the crowd, and see what was going on. At first, he saw something from the distance.\n\nA dark thing moving forward, to be exact. Following with a trail of something behind it with the same color. Second passes, then Bryan realized what it was. A horse, along a man on it. But something fell wrong when it owner fell from its saddles. Then, he saw the trail of smoke rose high up to the skies in the distance. *The village!* He thought, and looked at the others before he turned and walk away.\n\n\"Gather the horses!\" He ordered, walking down the stairs quickly as he could. \"The village's been attacked!\" He shouted, and was trying to find a horse nearby the stables. They had to be fast, they had to! The fellow knight thought."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronkeep castle**\n\nAs everyone got ready for action, Felix couldn't help but notice that something didn't add up. He went towards Hubert and voiced his concerns.\n\n\"Lord Hubert, how could they have assembled a raiding force so fast? Their messengers left no more than an hour ago! Did they know in advance we were going to refuse their offert? If so, how?\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert was anxious, he ordered the surrounding troops to guard the gate and man the walls.\n\n\"I don't know, nor do I care, they are here now, and we outnumber them, let us rout these bastards!\"\n\nHubert went down to the stables to assemble the cavalry."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronheart Castle\n\nVaughn had rallied with the others. His iron double edged short sword was held in its scabbard as his hands felt the cold stone wall. He was in chainmail armor. His eyes focused down into the tree line, lightly scanning for any of the sable brotherhood. To his surprise however, a man fell from his horse in rough shape. As he looked up he was astonished only to see that smoke was coming from the village. He stood fast as Bryan signaled to get the horses. He quickly turned, following him down the stone steps before quickly making his way to the stables. As he arrived he would grab a saddle before heaving himself up onto the horse. As he grabbed the reigns he would wait for Sir Bryan's signal to move out."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\nAs soon as Felix heard Hubert say \"We outnumber them\" A chill ran down his spine. They were not going to leave with everything they had, were they? There was no way he was going to fight. Who would protect him?\n\n\"What about the castle?\" He asked. He almost said _'what about me'_, but managed to avoid soundin self-interested at the last moment. \"Shouldn't someone stay behind to protect us retainers?\""
}
] | 135 | 901 |
84.333333 | 2020-12-10 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert looked at Felix for a moment.\n\n\"Worry not, I will leave a portion of the garrison to man the walls, archers and such.\nI'm sure you'll be fine my friend.\"\n\nHubert mounted his steed, and signalled for the gate to be opened."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Karronkeep Castle**\n\nA portion? They barely had more than thirty men! He had to convince Hubert to leave _most_ of the soldiers on the Castle, or he was dead meat.\n\nBut how? If hubert left with only a small vanguard, there was no way he could defeat the brigands.\n\n_Think, think! Why would Hubert leave his men here? His emotion compels him to help the village. How to counter emotion? Logic. Tactics! What would be a tactical excuse to stay in the castle?_\n\n\"W-what if the attack on the village is a f-feint?\" He said at last. \"What if they want to draw your attention away to attack this place?\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"Of course its a feint! That's why we're using the horses, we can run them down!\"\n\nHubert laughs to himself, but is also seemingly getting impatient, and looks to the man operating the gatehouse with a sharp glare."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "Felix Reed - the castle\n\n\"If it's a feint, shouldn't you leave half of them here? They _will_ strike while you're battling the force in the village, lord.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Castle\n\n\"You could come, I guess.\" He said, as he gets onto a horse after calming it down for a moment. He puts his helmet on but he didn't closed its visor yet as he turned and looked over at Felix. \"You could be used as a bait for us, too.\" He joked about it and smirked. \n\nHe slowly turned, and saw a wooden lance nearby. It was used for jousting usually, but using it at peoples who doesn't swear armors at all could break multiples rib cage at once. Bryan dragged his horse slowly towards it, grabbing it at ease once it was within his reach. A hard, wooden lance, he felt upon his hands. \n\n\"I guess we could leave the archers behind,\" The fellow knight suggested, looking back at the others."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "**Felix Reed - Harronkeep Castle**\n\nFelix wasn't amused in the slightest by Bryan's joke.\n\n\"We have a dozen of archers. That will do.\"\n\nIt wouldn't, but he was tired of trying to argue with the knights. Now, he had another plan in mind...\n\n\"Go forth and give those bandits what they deserve.\""
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "\"Gladly!\"\n\nThe gate had now been lowered, and Hubert spurred his horse into a gallop."
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronkeep Castle\n\n\"Stay safe, will ya?\" He turned to give Felix one last look with a smile before setting his eyes straight as the elderly knight heads out before the others. \"Hya!\" He dragged the veins of his horse, and whips at it. The horse let out neigh noises, as its break into a run. Galloping alongside the elderly knight beside him. He held his wooden lance on his right hand."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronkeep Castle\n\nAs Vaughn heard and saw Sir Bryan embark a brave look came across his face. He firmly grasped the reigns of his horse before slapping them against the saddle. \"Hya!\" He would yell as the horse began to move forward, quickly changing its pace from a trot to a gallop. He held his short double edged blade in his right hand as he quickly moved forth behind the two knights with haste."
}
] | 72 | 759 |
86.222222 | 2020-12-13 | GuildTextChat | [
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Village\n\nHe caught visual of the village ahead of them, blazing in flames as he heard terrified cries from the distance of it. At the same time, he also had some sight of the raiders as they pillage the village. Namely, around a dozen of archers that stand still at the palisade, a long wall made up of wooden that stood high up enough to cover around the village. One of them, Bryan caught familiar sight of the female archer earlier who wounded him earlier this day.\n\n\"Split out! Evasive maneuver!\" He yelled, not turning back to the others as he tightly drags the veins of his horse with his only free-hand. Breaking out from the formation as he sprint to the right after giving a whip to the horse to go more faster than it ever was, the fellow knight could only hope he could make it in time along the others."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "** The Town**\n\nThe gambit proved effective: without a target to unleash their volleys on, the archers began to fire at will, but their lone arrows missed the swift horsemen. Most of them began to abandon the palisade and went to hide inside the village."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert swung his sword in the air in a circular motion signalling to rally on him.\nHe looked at the wall pondering as to how they would get past the wall."
},
{
"author": "one_snek",
"message": "The town had offered the bandits unexpected resistance, and several areas of the palisade were broken. Alas, the bandits were setting ambushes on them.\n\nOn the western side, most of it had been consumed by the flames, but the charred remains and burning wood made for dangerous ground.\n\nThe waterway was another option to enter the town: not as guarded as the breaks in the palisade, nor as dangerous as going trough the fires, but wading trough with horses and armour could prove difficult."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert decided to confer with his allies.\n\n\"Sir Bryan, what do you think? The waterway or the burnt out wall?\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Village\n\nHe held his wooden lance at his side, as he drags his horse over to the elderly knight side. \"If we entered the town through those destroyed walls, we most likely gonna get cornered and trap by them.\" He pointed out, after watching his surroundings for a moment. \"If we're go through the waterway, it's most likely the safest option at here. I said, but we'll has to walk across it then.\" He stated, looking back at the elderly knight with a nod."
},
{
"author": "glybzor",
"message": "Hubert nodded and raised his sword again to signal for the troops to follow him on foot.\n\n\"Lets go.\""
},
{
"author": "validun",
"message": "Sir Bryan Verandus, Harronheart Village\n\nThe fellow knight gets off his horse, his helmet visor closed as he followed right behind the elderly knight lead. He had his longsword drawn, thought not the one he always uses. A military standard one, that is. The longsword he always used was given by his mentor, Sir Gale before he was gone in this world. It was also a sign of his knighthood that allowed him to gain his recognition in the order. \n\nBut that wasn't the case now. There was serious matters to deal with, and the fellow held his guard high."
},
{
"author": "thetitan4016",
"message": "Vaughn, Harronheart Village\n\nVaughn would make his way off his noble steed. His double edged blade was firmly held in hand as the short sword was held. His eyes became focused upon the two elder knights in front of him. He kept a more or less calm composure as a stern look crossed upon his face. He couldn't let his guard down like he had with his last encounter. This time he needed to stay more focused if he was to show promise."
}
] | 100 | 776 |
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