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Post by chipster321 on Sept 24, 2016 20:07:31 GMT -5
(No I mean Joffery from Game of Thrones)
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 24, 2016 20:08:52 GMT -5
(Hey, sorry I have some stuff going on with my dad that's kind of intense and I can't really focus well, so the forms will get done either tomorrow or Monday sorry again) { that's alright robin. take it in strides~ }
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Post by koi on Sept 24, 2016 20:08:52 GMT -5
[ jeffree star was in game of thrones??? no way??? ]
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Post by chipster321 on Sept 24, 2016 20:09:24 GMT -5
(What???)
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 24, 2016 20:09:57 GMT -5
okay guys. here's the plotting/planning/chat page, so we don't clutter this thread up with discussion!
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Post by servalstrike on Sept 24, 2016 20:15:27 GMT -5
Holland Holgersen:
The dogs lead Holland to a small apple orchard. A few sparse trees scattered through a grove. Their gnarled unkempt branches sporting a scarce apples. The ground was littered with apples, some looking like they’d been picked at by deer or smashed into the mud. Dismounting from his mare his boots hit the ground with a thud, his red cloak swaying behind him. His hand lingered at the hilt of his sword as he made his way through the trees. The wolfhounds stalked through the trees. They appeared to be on edge but they weren’t acting like there was a wolf in the immediate area.
So of course when he came across a girl seeming to be his age picking apples he was suspicious and distrustful. He pulling his sword out of the sheath just enough in case he would need it. Slowly and cautiously he approached the woman. “Nice day for apple picking isn’t it?” He put his hands behind his back trying to seem like he wasn’t a threat. But his eyes told a different story. They shone like frozen daggers and he watched her with almost predatory movements. The dogs circled her to block off her escape but wouldn’t attack without his command.
It was up to Holland to decide whether or not this seemingly innocent woman was truly a wolf in sheep's clothing.”What are you doing out here all by yourself? I hear there are wolves in the vicinity, doesn’t that frighten you?” His pale blond hair was tied out of his face showing off the sharp angles of his cheekbones, making him look all the more unwelcoming despite him being a handsome man.
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Post by 𝓑𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫 ♥ on Sept 24, 2016 20:25:31 GMT -5
{ ...}
laisren ó coileáin
“I would not dare to, sir”, Laisren runs a finger down the hilt of the knife absentmindedly, half-lidded eyes still focused on the path in front of him, on the slight frame of Crown Prince Mika Revel. He was vastly unqualified for the position he was given. It was at best an embarrassment to the Kingdom, a showing of nepotism that would be blatantly treasonous if it were not the heads of the justice system issuing the appointment. “Even if I were a Scout, I would be much too afraid of offending his royal highness to name myself as such. Either way, I would be a Hunter. It just so happens that I am actually qualified for the position.”
The mans tone is lilting, a reverberating sort of pleasantry, almost as if he were engaging in small talk with a friend rather than addressing a man who could have his head on a silver platter and served to his dogs for dinner if he wished. Yet his face remains stoic, eyes turned towards his higher-up with a respectful dignity, mouth pursed at the corners as if he were begging for Revel to question him. Laisren was over six foot, more lean than bulky, with the body of an athlete rather than a scholar. While Laisren did not consider himself a conundrum of a person (he did not, as stated, consider himself as anything other than, perhaps, a budding alcoholic) he certainly appeared as one. Was he threatening the crown prince - certainly not, but his tone, while both overtly and overly friendly, had a lick of sass in it that one might think they heard a hint of, but was not apparent enough that most people would call him out on it.
As one of the best Hunters in the legion, and a veteran older than most (at 25 he was not old, certainly, but the attrition rate among the Red Huntsmen was startling) Laisren carried himself with a structured confidence. He was here for a reason; he knew when to bow to the crown, when to accept that the aristocracy was above him (not better than him, certainly, but worth more in the eyes of the gods or whatever decided to what class one was born) and when he could flaunt his independence. He was not the type who would recklessly run himself into danger because he felt like it, thought it was the “right thing to do” (even though that statement carries an edge of hypocrisy: Laisren believes in what he is doing because he justifies it as “the right thing to do”. Peace is what everyone strives for, right? He is only acting to bring it about. He is only doing what is absolutely necessary. Right?)
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Post by chipster321 on Sept 24, 2016 20:26:26 GMT -5
Katie jumped at the sound of a voice, accidentally whacking the apple with her stick, causing it to fall...right on her head. "Ow..." She grumbled and rubbed the top of her head as she turned around. She felt her blood run cold as she stared at the man who wore the red cloak that she had grown to fear. But she hid her fear and blinked. "Yes, I suppose it's a nice day, a bit cold though." She responded. "And it's pretty much winter, and well, wolves are mammals, so I figured they would go into hibernation, like the bears. I don't hear about a lot of wolf attacks in the Winter." She then bent down to pick up the apple and place it in her basket. "And a single girl has to do what they can to get by, so I figured I'd sell some apples. Though, they don't all look too appetizing, but I can't be picky. And I have nothing to lose." She gave a small smile.
She eyed the dogs nervously. "Can you...uh...make them back up a bit, I'm not fond of any dog to be honest. Bad experiences...I'm sure you could understand." She said softly, gesturing to his cloak. She tugged at her shawl, a nervous habit she had developed over the years.
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Post by servalstrike on Sept 24, 2016 20:46:19 GMT -5
Holland Holgersen:
Holland quirked a brow at her strange remark. “Oh but wolves attack in the winter all the time. Not all mammals hibernate you know. For example, deer and caribou don’t hibernate.” Taking a step toward her he glanced down at the dogs, their hackles raised and their ears pricked. He wondered if the girl was actually stupid enough to think wolves slept through the winter or if she was only trying to make him believe she was that stupid.
His posture eased, becoming relaxed and almost lazy. Frozen eyes drifted over her taking her in from her brown hair and blue eyes to her slight frame. As she continued speaking he glanced back down at the dogs and raised his arms to his head clasping his hands behind his neck. “I think I have a slight understanding. You fear dogs the way I fear wolves, right? My dogs protect me when wolves try to hurt me whereas the dogs try to attack you?” Holland’s voice dripped from his lips in an accusatory tone. “My dogs don’t like you, and my dogs like everyone.”
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Post by koi on Sept 24, 2016 20:51:05 GMT -5
naomhan o fithcheallaigh--
Naomhan watches as Vivi leaves in a rush, eyes narrowing at her figure as it disappears throughout the tunnel; an expression of uncertainty playing at his features like a broken record, shifting unsteadily. He, for all of a moment, is a hypocrite, because doesn’t Naomhan do the same? Doesn’t Naomhan take off as soon as he finds the opportunity to, not daring to come back until morning comes in the form of the sun rising above the horizon? As he rises from his spot across from the fire, on the flame-warmed ground, he passes a hand through his hair, eyes on where Vivi had disappeared off to, before his eyes drift back to his brother in a slow, lazy fashion, like his reaction time is delayed by a second or too. He goes out by himself because he wants to pretend all is right with the world, and it is easy to convince oneself of such a thing when the only thing surrounding your field of vision, wrapped around your peripherals as well, were too many shades of lilac; every colour of sunrise streaked across the ocean. How can there be so much bad, bad, bad when clouds dot the sky in fluffy white shapes so similar to benignly hopping rabbits?
(that question is usually answered swiftly, after Naomhan belatedly realizes that he regularly hunts those benignly hopping rabbits.)
“I didn’t go on a jog,” clarifies Naomhan, sounding betrayed and exhausted all together; he hides a yawn under the back of his wrist, heavy in furs. “You know me, ‘Roe,” then a tired smile, one that was faded (a different sort of ‘faded’ than eanna rn lmaooo) , “I don’t run.” He barely walks. Naomhan’s human form was one of implicit knock-kneed bow-legged chaos (not to mention the state of mind he is in after cutting his sleeping short in order to see the sunlight rise above the horizon). “I just...wanted to see the sunrise, I guess.”
But that was another story all together, so he shuts his mouth promptly, sends a tight-lipped smile his brother’s way. “Yeah, ‘course. I’ll try not to fall asleep on the way.”
It only takes him a minute or two to get the pheasant that Monroe had needed for their meal; any longer and he’d blame it on the cold weather having sunk into his bones and deciding to camp there (he’s a young man, barely nineteen, but god if cold weather doesn’t bother him as much as it’d bother a much older person). As he walks back, pheasant awkwardly in his hands, stiff and cold, and outreaches his hands to give to his brother, he glances through the side of his lashes back to where Vivi had gone in all of a rush.
“D’you think that’s safe?” he asks, not really giving much context to him, obviously meaning Vivi; but there isn’t much needed in the first place, seeing as Naomhan has never been subtle, and the way he’s staring at the exit of the cave looks like he’s convinced he’ll be able to start fires with his gaze, or something.
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Post by chipster321 on Sept 24, 2016 20:54:34 GMT -5
"But caribou and deer migrate!" She pointed out. "All mammals do something for the winter, so the wolves must do something too. Look, im sorry I'm desperate for food and came out here. Im not doing any harm am I?" She asked, not wanting him to think she was a wolf.
She felt relief when he relaxed a bit but then scared all over again when he seemed to be accusing her. "No! No that's not what I meant! I'm afraid of all dogs. The canine family. Wolves and dogs are distantly related and are slightly similar. And I guess your dogs don't like me. So what. Maybe they don't like my fashion sense." She grumbled. She was being sarcastic with that remark of course, but she wanted to lighten the mood. "It's impossible for someone to like everyone in this world. They'd be taken advantage of."
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 24, 2016 20:59:05 GMT -5
woods outside arderra | mika revel & Laisren & Holland | late afternoon "Is that so?"
Ah, there it was. The man hadn't uttered even a hundred words and already he was tempting the Prince's wrath. "I'm sure you would think that. I must be woefully under-qualified to lead the Red Huntsmen, is that correct?" Mika was a prideful young man, but he wasn't about to pull out his list of qualifications. Studying under the best swordsman and hand-to-hand combat teachers came with the territory of royalty. The Queen herself was skilled enough with a sword. It would be a crime if the Crown Prince were incompetent in such things, especially when he was currently being groomed to lead the kingdom one day.
But the jab at his character wasn't what ruffled Mika's feather's.
It was Laisren's tone. It was the way he spoke to his Captain and Prince like he were a close friend. As though he had earned the right to do so within the span of minutes Mika had known him. It revolted the Prince. Revolted and repulsed him to his very core. "Tell me, ó Coileáin, what is your criteria for being not only a qualified huntsmen, but a Captain of the Huntsmen? Is there a certain number of gruesome death's I was supposed to witness?"
Mika didn't turn around as he spoke. To look Laisren in the eye was to stoop to the level of a peasant and, if there was one thing the young man knew, it was that they were far from equals. Far, far from it. "Measured in pints, how much blood was I mean to spill before taking up this mantle? Are we counting the blood of werewolves or men?"
He glanced up into the trees, catching the glossy eyes of a crow perched there. The bird peered down at him, clacking its beak as though it were trying to speak. He quite liked that creature's feathers... His attention drifted back to the path ahead of him as the mingle of voices reached his ears. Two of them, one distinctly belonged to Holland, the other was new. Female, though he could discern nothing aside from gender at this distance. Threat or not would be decided upon arrival.
Now with purpose, Mika nudged his horse into a trot, hoping Holland wouldn't do anything rash before his Captain had a chance to size up the scenario. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't keen on felling everyone he suspected of being a werewolf. That right was reserved for the people Mika didn't like. A right that Laisren was slowly beginning to acquire. Bit by bit.
The black stallion broke through the thick undergrowth, tossing its mane and flaring its nostrils as the scent and sight of the dogs hit him. Mika tugged the horse's reins again, making a mental note that he would need a proper warhorse, one that wouldn't start at the very scent of wolves. That last thing he wanted was to be thrown to the ground in the middle of a hunt.
His stare glossed over Holland, falling immediately upon the young woman that stood among the apple trees. He regarded her coolly for a moment before rounding his attention back on Holgersen, "Explain."
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Post by servalstrike on Sept 24, 2016 21:28:29 GMT -5
Monroe Ó Fithcheallaigh:
Part of Monroe wanted to go after Vivian but the other part, the fearful part, told him to stay inside. He had a whole pack to look after. Sometimes he wasn’t sure he could do it. Being the Alpha came with a lot of responsibility and heartache, if something terrible happened he was always to blame even if it wasn’t his fault. His job was hard enough without him having to worry about crazy farmers or the Red Cloaks, as some wolves referred to them. He offered Naomhan a gentle smile when he heard his nickname ‘Roe. He was quite fond of the name, it reminded him of nicer times when he and Naomhan were just kids. Or all the other times when he would call him that just to get out of trouble, and he was ashamed to admit it worked every time.
With a chuckle he nodded in agreement. “Yes, I know you don’t run. You don’t do much of anything be perfectly honest,” Monroe teased. His face fell just a little, the glow of the fire warming half of his face while leaving the other half cold. “I just worry about you you know.” He sounded like a father when he said it, he felt like one too. Their parents had been killed when they were young and Monroe had taken over as his brother’s primary caretaker, the only family he had left.
He gazed down at his little brother as he brought him the dead bird. Without a second thought he took it from him and got to work and plucking its feathers and all the nasty stuff that came with preparing the thing. He glanced up from his work when Naomhan spoke again. An almost sad look danced across his eyes but he quickly looked away again. “No,” he said bluntly, “It’s not safe but some people are just too stubborn to reason with.” Partly talking about Naomhan as he spoke. “You shouldn’t worry too much though.”
Holland Holgersen:
Yes caribou did migrate didn’t they? Holland knew that well. He used to herd them through the cold and snow only to have them be picked off by those damn wolves. So, wolves didn’t hibernate but caribou did migrate and wolves followed the caribou. Deer, however, from Holland’s little knowledge of the animal did not migrate in the same way as caribou did, if they migrated at all. His mind was pierced with all too realistic flashes of wolves painting the snow with blood. He hated wolves, he’d always hate wolves.
Holland was just about done with this girl. He could tell how nervous she was and she was so incredibly dense he wanted to cut her head off whether or not she was really a wolf. His hand found the hilt of his sword when Mika’s voice sounded from beside him. He turned and bowed to his Captain. “Captain Mika,” he regarded him. With a nod to the girl he straightened his posture and said “The hounds suspect this girl to be a wolf.”
Holland suspected the very same thing, he might just kill the girl to be sure he wasn’t letting a wolf go. After all, she’d said she was alone so who would miss her? Certainly not Holland.
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Post by chipster321 on Sept 24, 2016 21:40:24 GMT -5
(Wow you're nice Holland. )
Vivi's eyes looked up and locked onto Prince Mika. She gaped a little and quickly dropped into a curtesy, not wanting to get into any more trouble than she always was. She did not want to offend the prince. She knew that the prince could be a cold hearted killer and she didn't want to risk anything.
Then she heard the scout's accusation. She snapped upright and narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me but I won't stand here and be insulted for no reason other than your dogs don't like me. I came out here to pick apples, not to be accused of being a godforsaken werewolf. Isn't it your duty to protect this kingdoms citizens? Not accuse whomever you please."
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Post by 𝓑𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫 ♥ on Sept 24, 2016 22:13:21 GMT -5
{ post #3 and already we're getting some backstory? apparently so. this is my aesthetic.}
laisren ó coileáin
Touchy.
It was not as if Laisen wasn’t expecting some kind of reaction to his sarcasm, his comments were purposely inflammatory. It was not that he was distinctly judging the other man’s professionalism, but it would be a lie to say that he wasn’t trying to formulate a basis behind how to act around the man. This was the crown prince, after all. It would be silly not to expect him to be an arrogant, spoiled child, which is, of course, the visage that Laisren has picked up on. Defensive, sarcastic: all traits characteristic of someone out of their realm trying to overcompensate. How typical.
“Do not misconstrue me, sir, I am not questioning your authority”, and his tone was still friendly. “I was simply making a comment, small talk, if you will, a little sarcasm, nothing more. I am afraid that you will have to adapt to a rather uncouth attitude amongst the Red Hunters - the majority of us are not, how should I put it, raised among royalty.”
He did not bother to alter his facial expression, though he might have grinned had the other man been facing him. Then, of course, there came the sound of voices – Holland did his job well – and Mika was off. Laisren, ever the dutiful subject, followed. They did not have to travel far, coming upon the clearing where Holland and the dogs were in less than a minute. It seems that the scout had found a girl and the dogs a wolf.
Laisren dismounted his horse with the elegance of a man who had done this many a time before, one hand curled around the hilt of his knife, the other hanging languidly by his side. He stood with shoulders straight, posture dignified but distinctly casual; as if bringing down judgement upon this girl was a mere triviality; below him, just another day at the office.
She was lying: that much was obvious. She spoke quickly, made her stories too detailed, eye contact too forced, excuse like a leaf floating in the wind: flimsy and pathetic. He raised a hand – “Quiet, girl” – and (he just called her girl. Made her a – no – he knew she was before but – it was always difficult to say it out loud, to verify the facts that she was a person. Not quite a human but an entity quite like one, capable of independent thought and emotion. Just like she was.)
And – god, there was a moment before every kill where Laisren wanted to – no, he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. Not even in the deepest recesses of his mind, in that part of his brain that he tries to ignore, some dark corner where hope lurks like the shadow of a flame. A transient flicker, transparent and glossy, echoing a single question: "have you seen this girl? A lost child poster taped to the roof of his mouth. Last seen approximately a year ago, tall, long black hair – though it might be cut by now, he wondered about that, if she would still look the same, would she have become more wolfy? Would she still look like – no. No. She no longer existed. Lost sister, lost daughter, lost girl. Have you seen her? No. She was dead. Died a year ago on that table with Sadhbh, it was only her body that was thrown to the wilderness. That had taken flight at 2am, tears streaming down her face, “please, don’t leave me”, and he can’t remember whether the words were hers or his own. But she was dead now. And pulling aside anyone who might have (no) seen her would be fruitless; the most he would find is a corpse. A imagination of a girl who had once been, a girl who had meant the world to him. Whom he had loved. But Laisren was above that now; love was a fickle mistress whose chief goal was the prey upon the weak. Laisren was not weak, he knew that much.
He had never been.
As the eldest child in a wealthy, prominent family he carried the burden of being the perfect son. He wore the burden like it was his skin, slipped into it like one slips into water, letting it fold around him, carry him to a future that had all the markings of brilliance. Until –no, stop. This is not the right time for an involuntary memory. Because Laisren remembered that day like the scars that still line the back of his hand; an irremovable tattoo. Cliodhna would nearly be this girls age now, and the thought of her, alone in the woods like this, not scared, she would never be scared, not her, but alone? It terrified him in ways that he would never admit; that he would never let pass his lips, stray onto his face. A mark of vulnerability. Laisren did not want to hurt this girl.
(She was not a girl, though.)
(She was not a person.)
“The dogs are never wrong, sir”, he replied in a lilting monotone, which in and of itself was strange since a lilting voice is inherently not monotone, but besides – “Is this your first encounter with one of their kind?”
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 24, 2016 22:28:32 GMT -5
woods outside arderra | mika revel & Laisren & Holland | late afternoon "Well done, Holgersen, it seems you serve a purpose after all."
Mika's mask of indifference had solidified once more, leaving nothing of his thoughts or feelings to be revealed through his features. A trait and skill he had inherited from his dearly beloved mother Queen Avis-Berlin. The Queen was a master of hiding her emotions. So much so, that many speculated she had none. Some whispers said her son was made from the same stone and ice as his mother. They weren't wrong.
Holland's explanation was short, but to the point. Maybe the young man was as dull as Mika had first suspected him to be. Maybe. He didn't even bother to glance up as the accused flew into a frenzy, spitting and hissing as she tried to prove her innocence. It was hardly a convincing argument, to say the least. Once she finished, the young prince lifted his eyes to see the hounds circling her like trapped quarry, which she could very well be.
Narrowing his eyes, the Captain dismounted and strode across the leaf-strewn grass, smashing an apple beneath his boot as he walked. His hand swept down to the hilt of his sword, sweeping it from its sheath in a single fluid motion. In a flash of silver, too fast to be called a second, the tip of the blade hovered parallel with her throat, "I'm going to say this once: shut up."
He eyed her, taking her in inch by inch now. She was a bland girl. Nothing extraordinary in appearance. Nothing astounding or awe-inducing. Bland. Bland and plain. Slightly above average in height and boring brown hair and that was all.
Behind him, Laisren and Holland were doing their jobs. He paid them no mind until--
"Is this your first encounter with one of their kind?"
Had he been a weaker man, Mika might have stiffened at the off-handed comment. On it's own, the statement was harmless. But this was a special occasion, one in which the young man had just come from a funeral. "Hardly," was his only answer. It had been a black wolf. A lone black wolf that had clamped down on his tutor's throat and refused to let go. The trip into the woods was meant to be a special lesson.
A special lesson indeed.
"Now, I'll say it slowly because I understand your kind are denser than they appear to be. It's like Laisren over there said, these hounds you see were born and bred for the sole purpose of hunting down wolves. I highly doubt they are targeting you simply because they don't like the look of you. If that were the case, that would mean they can't do their jobs. Do you know what that means? That means that today I'm either killing you or I'm killing them," he swung sword away, pointing his blade instead at the wolfhounds and then back to her.
"I'll make it easy on you," Mika went on, "And let you decide which one I'm going to kill. So, which will it be?"
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Post by chipster321 on Sept 24, 2016 22:43:45 GMT -5
Vivi tensed as the silver sword pointed towards her throat. She narrowed her blue eyes and clenched her jaw, watching and listening to the Red huntsmen talk to each other. She wondered if she could even make it out of this alive. And then he asked her the question.
"I'm either killing you or I'm killing them, I'll make it easy on you and let you decide which one I'm going to kill."
She blinked and stared at him, then at the dogs. She didn't want him to kill the dogs, she knew they were innocent and just doing their jobs, but she most certainly did not want to die. She loved animals and it broke her heart to have to condemn them to die. Though, for all she knew, he wasn't really going to kill them. He might be trying to get her hopes up. Her brow furrowed, then she turned her blue eyes which held her sadness but also her fury, towards the prince. "I'd rather not be the one to die today your highness. If you are giving me the option on whether I can live or not, I'd rather live."
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 24, 2016 23:20:33 GMT -5
woods outside arderra | mika revel & Laisren & Holland | late afternoon "Pity, here I was thinking these were some fine dogs. But there's no use breeding and feeding a pair of incompetent wolfhounds. Bad apples spoil the bunch and all."
He nodded to Laisren, "Grab the hounds, would you, it's going to be a bit difficult to kill them when they're moving, don't you think?" Mika cast a glance at the bland young woman, "Actually, don't. You know what would be better, if the girl here held the dogs still." He motioned to her, a shooing gesture that he used often on servants, something they had come to interpret as 'hop to it'. It was only fair, though. She was the one who had sentenced the dogs to death, it made sense that she should play a part in their execution.
Her life for theirs. Their lives for hers.
Nothing came without a price to pay.
The prince was the one doing the circling now, sword held aloft, eyes level and calculating. What's the best way to kill a dog? Cut the throat? Or straight through the chest? He was keen on make it as quick as possible, no point in dawdling in these matters. Of course, there was one clear problem with this situation: the girl was lying. She was blatantly lying to save her own skin, it was almost pitiable how willingly she had offered the dogs in her stead. Apparently she had a good bit to live for.
It was a shame though, Laisren had promised the dogs never lied. What a waste. He glared at the girl again, "Hurry up, I haven't got all day and I'd very much like to be done with this."
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Post by chipster321 on Sept 24, 2016 23:28:18 GMT -5
Vivi had a face of distress as she saw he was really going to do it. And that she had to help...She shuddered and walked over to one of the dogs and crouched down. She stared at it straight in the eyes. Her heart felt like it was going to break. "...Wouldn't...Wouldn't letting them free count? They wouldn't have anyone to care for them, and they'd have to learn for themselves. If they don't, they die. If they mess up, they die. Besides they could still hunt for your werewolves that way..." She looked up at the prince. "Wouldn't that make more sense? They have more use wild than dead. I may want to live but that doesn't mean these one have to pay with their blood."
(Phone)
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 24, 2016 23:44:16 GMT -5
woods outside arderra | mika revel & Laisren & Holland | late afternoon "That's adorable. What an admirable testament to the conscience you've suddenly developed. Lovely," Mika regarded her coolly, raising the tip of his sword to the hound's exposed throat, "How about this, I'll give you one last chance to admit you're a wolf. If you do that that means my dogs here are an excellent example of what our hounds should be. They'll not only return safe and sound but I'll take them on as my personal hunting dogs. But..."
His gaze shifted back to the Laisren and Holland before returning to the girl, "But my generosity has worn thin. Admitting you're a wolf won't be enough to spare the hounds anymore. You see, there's a price to pay for lying to me, for wasting my time, for nearly forcing me to put down two of our dogs." He turned the blade on her now, the tip of the sword only an inch from her throat, "I'm going to need a bit more then a confession now. I'm going to need your name and whether you're a born wolf or a bitten one."
"Did you catch all that?" Mika watched her now. Really watched her. He saw no cruelty in her. At least, he shouldn't have seen any. But her actions were speaking volumes at the moment. She valued her life enough to sacrifice those of innocent animals. Either she was selfish, cruel, or desperate. Or a combination of the three. Either way, Mika wasn't leaving till there was blood on the ground.
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Post by chipster321 on Sept 24, 2016 23:56:53 GMT -5
"...I will say one thing first. I never said that you should kill the dogs, I said I'd rather live. To be honest, I didn't think you would even consider it. But since I'd rather not have these innocent creature's blood on my hands..." She looked at them again. She loved animals. She loved and respected them. Sure she killed them in wolf form, but she had to eat. It was the way of life. She took a breath.
"...I am a born wolf, and my name is Vivian." She said in a monotone voice after the pause. She met his eyes, then she looked at the other two. "I assume you'll keep your promise?" Her blue eyes no longer looked away from his.
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Post by 𝓑𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫 ♥ on Sept 25, 2016 0:05:03 GMT -5
{ man these people be crazy }
laisren ó coileáin
Becoming numbed to savagery was easy; you just had to compartmentalize it. One could justify the murder of an entire race as a necessary evil if it meant that a great many would be saved through the act. Laisren repeated the fact that what he was doing was good to himself at least daily, not in any conscious way, but in the silence that accompanied him in every cruelty.
The first time he killed a wolf he had been deafened by guilt; her scream had haunted him like a banshee, a nightmare that echoed into his waking hours. Every glimpse of sunlight reminded him of the golden glister of her hair, every wave of grass reflected the way his knife made a perfect parabolic arc as he brought it up through her ribcage. For days afterwards he washed his hands in the river until they began to chafe; until the blood that he still saw on them was replaced with his own. He was a veritable Lady Macbeth, slipping into madness because he killed a girl – that was what she had been, after all. She could not have been over twenty, alone in the woods, lost, crying, and his old Captain had said it would be an easy first time, a bit of practice before he had to go fight a “real monster”. As if this girl was nothing; neither monster nor man, just an entity that he had been sent out there to murder because someone told him to (and where was the justice in that?)
But none of that mattered anymore. Laisren had orders and he would follow through on them – he always did. Even if they were being issued by a Captain with no practical understanding of what he was doing. Even if they were not only senselessly cruel, but also senseless. It was painstakingly difficult to train a wolfhound. Wasting the lives of all of the ones clustered here meant years’ worth of work reduced to nothing more than a show of pride. A moment of flamboyance; yes, making this one girl feel bad for all of ten minutes was quite an act. But people were selfish; there was no way that she would ever choose to sacrifice herself for the lives of a handful of beasts that had been trained since birth to seek out her kind and kill them. Laisren hoped that the prince had some plan that he had not yet caught on to, but so far he had been underwhelmed with the man. He doubted this was anything more than simply an act of violence for the sake of violence.
(And as terrible as Laisren could be, he was never violent for the sake of being so. Senseless violence was one of the few things he could not stand; it made him sick. A numbing kind of sickness, like accidentally brushing your teeth with lidocaine, that he would not exhibit rather than letting his face fall into apathy, his usual cocksure grin falling into the indifferent stare of a common soldier. He would do his duty like clockwork, but he would take no pride in it.)
(Where other men might tell stories of their kills over the fire, Laisren was always quiet about it. He would make jokes, certainly, intermix them with scathing remarks to keep people guessing, but he would never brag about his body count. Not that he had nothing to brag about; he was good at what he did - there was a reason he had been pointed out to the Crown Prince, after all – but he would rather romance his alcohol rather than smile about the death of someone’s child.)
(His actions were for the greater good and he did not regret them, but heavy is the cost of peace. The words caught in the back of his mind as heavy as the permanent silence of the grave.)
(He remained silent now, hand tightening around the knife. Revel was forcing the issue further than it needed to go. This was too much for a simple she-wolf like this one; she was not violent, obviously a loner (the main pack did not often roam these parts, there had been numerous sightings here, yes, but none that were traceable back to the Alpha that still evaded the Red Hunters no matter how fervently they tried to search him out.) There was no need to put on such a show for her. It would be less cruel to just get it over with now. The way Revel toyed with her was borderline sadistic.)
He shot a glance at the young wolf and mouthed, silently as soon as Revel turned his head back to the girl. “I promise it will be painless.”
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 25, 2016 11:31:56 GMT -5
woods outside arderra | mika revel & Laisren & Holland | late afternoon Silence. The Crown Prince said nothing. Only watched. The tip of his sword not even a fingernails width from the gentle slope of her adam's apple. Had he stretched his method's of questioning beyond their limit? Without a doubt. Did he regret it? Not in the slightest. It had taken a bit, but Mika had gotten what he wanted.
But his blade remained where it was, moving neither forward nor back. At last, he broke the silence, "That's all I needed to hear." He lowered his sword, motioning to Holland and Laisren waiting patiently, "This one comes back with us. Any questions?" With that, he sheathed his sword and signaled the wolfhounds to follow, which they were more than happy to do. Not because they had any idea their lives had been spared, but because this was what they did, what they were trained for. Following orders was what these dogs lived for.
Now to explain Mika's line of reasoning.
Had the circumstances been different, the girl before him would be dead by now. But the circumstances Mika found himself in were of a special sort. You see, the Queen had a plan in place, a final solution to smoke out where the wolves were hiding. It involved capturing a few born wolves (who were almost guaranteed to have a connection to the main pack) and put them through rigorous interrogation. The prince found the idea both brilliant and excruciatingly tedious.
For one, it meant dealing with werewolves. And then there was the matter of not killing them on the spot. But, if nothing else, the young man was not one to defy his mother's wishes. So this wolf was lucky. He wasn't going to kill her. Not yet, at least.
"As for keeping my promise," he glanced back at Vivian with icy eyes and placid features, "We'll have to wait and see." He gave a sharp whistle and his stallion laid down, flaring its nostrils impatiently. Mika climbed into the saddle and, without warning, the horse climbed to its feet once more. The display might have been considered comical if it hadn't been for the fact that Mika had nearly put down to dogs and girl. But go on, laugh. Laugh if you must at his height impairment.
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Post by chipster321 on Sept 25, 2016 11:58:24 GMT -5
(Girls don't have Adam's apples ) Vivi let out a snarl. "What. Do you seriously think I'm just going to go with you. I'm not some dog and I'm not going to go without a fight." She shifted into her wolf self and let lout a loud howl. She hoped her pack would hear. She then lunged at the horse, biting at its leg, hoping it would buck the prince off. She kicked and shook the wolfhounds off mercilessly. Not wanting the dogs to die because of her desperation was one thing, but if they attacked, well that was completely different. She would tear their throats out if need be. Vivi was no longer going to be patient with these monsters. They were more of a monster than her. A beast that was cornered was dangerous, even more than when simply attacking. She knew what awaited her if she went with them. And no way she would go willingly.
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Post by mags on Sept 25, 2016 13:43:40 GMT -5
( i would absolutely love to join this if it's still open!! i am on my phone atm but i will get forms up when i can ~ would it be okay if i claimed a princess? c: )
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 25, 2016 13:46:44 GMT -5
{ it is still open and sure! }
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Post by mags on Sept 25, 2016 14:02:40 GMT -5
( perfect! i will have my character forms up in an hour or two then! c: )
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Post by maple on Sept 25, 2016 14:05:13 GMT -5
[ IS THIS STILL OPEN TO JOIN?? ]
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 25, 2016 14:05:17 GMT -5
{ alright! take your time~ }
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Sept 25, 2016 14:05:47 GMT -5
[ IS THIS STILL OPEN TO JOIN?? ] { YES! MAAAAAAAAAAAAPLE! }
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