Introduction
Your true home had been nearly forgotten by the time the major expiriments had been finished, but at that point, you weren't the same person.
Darkgrove Asylum is just a front. Housing the mad isn't all that they do... But secrets are secrets for a reason. The scientists only need to get away with it.
And they already had.
But what kind of life was that of a labrat with no family, friends? They got away with it because you had no one, because you were no one.
But perhaps an escape was an option.
DNA, Mutations, Bionics, New Abilities... What had they done to the people locked away within the confines of what should have been no more than a simple asylum? But they take in more that just the suicidle and the insane. Motherless children, sickly newborns, orphaned delinquents. Anyone that society could live without, as long as they were under 13. Those older, it seemed, were difficult bodies to work with, and meant that the changes would often be unsuccesful or result in permanent damage to the person's genes. But that often doesn't stop the scientists. Heartlessness was just part of the job, you supposed. After all, even the children of the scientists become victims to their epirimentation. After all, before birth, the early stages of developement make it easy to develope with the mutations.
Conditions are cruel. Scientists don't treat their own children well, let alone Darkgrove's inhabitants that they have no connections to. The expiriments aren't even treated like human beings. Like animals, or idiots... Creatures in cages. Though, some may not be human anyway. Or, at least, not anymore.
Though succesful epiriments began when these children were under thirteen, this operation has been going on for quite some time, and ages range.
But it seems that new precautions are being taken, because of a brand new issue...
Conditions are cruel. Scientists don't treat their own children well, let alone Darkgrove's inhabitants that they have no connections to. The expiriments aren't even treated like human beings. Like animals, or idiots... Creatures in cages. Though, some may not be human anyway. Or, at least, not anymore.
Though succesful epiriments began when these children were under thirteen, this operation has been going on for quite some time, and ages range.
But it seems that new precautions are being taken, because of a brand new issue...
Some of the epiriments are escaping...
But thats the problem with making humans more powerful and treating them like crap. It's not that hard for them to get away, with the right planning. Just because they're treated like idiots doesn't mean they are, and getting around ignorent scientists is the least of their problems.
But the scientists aren't going to let their secrets run out on them that easily, though, and a few expiriments are choosing to be simple pets of Darkgrove, doing the dirty work and tracking down what the scientists couldn't keep in cages. After all, Darkgrove is home to illegal expirimentation. And they aren't about to let their operations crash down. They don't want to reveal their secrets until they've succeeded, and have reasons they can't be shut down.
But thats the problem with making humans more powerful and treating them like crap. It's not that hard for them to get away, with the right planning. Just because they're treated like idiots doesn't mean they are, and getting around ignorent scientists is the least of their problems.
But the scientists aren't going to let their secrets run out on them that easily, though, and a few expiriments are choosing to be simple pets of Darkgrove, doing the dirty work and tracking down what the scientists couldn't keep in cages. After all, Darkgrove is home to illegal expirimentation. And they aren't about to let their operations crash down. They don't want to reveal their secrets until they've succeeded, and have reasons they can't be shut down.
If they find you, you're over...
It's as simple as that. Once you've dissobeyed, there's few options left for you. Unless you're a successful epiriment, you're worthless. They'll shoot you, or worse... Mutate you until you can no longer support the new DNA, until you can no longer adapt. It's torture, and if you were successful, then it's just back to a world of nothing. Going back freely is pointless. You'd rather die running than suffer all the way back. You've got nothing to lose...
It's as simple as that. Once you've dissobeyed, there's few options left for you. Unless you're a successful epiriment, you're worthless. They'll shoot you, or worse... Mutate you until you can no longer support the new DNA, until you can no longer adapt. It's torture, and if you were successful, then it's just back to a world of nothing. Going back freely is pointless. You'd rather die running than suffer all the way back. You've got nothing to lose...
~~**~~
Nessisary Characters - No, not main characters, because that's rude to any other characters. These are just some characts that should be created before the start, that way, even if not many characters are submitted, the role play can still function.
Odd Mutation Runaway - A male character. He's never been seen by any of the other runaways around Darkgrove, because he's been away for much longer than it would seem. He knows how to evade the 'Retreivers' and knows the territory well. He acts as a sort of guide to the others, but never adresses himself as a leader. Though he doesn't advertise his mutation, he had actually been a young, abandoned dog that Darkgrove had tried an expiriment on. He shifts between human and animal form, and for some reason, doesn't age. TAKEN
Bionic Runaway - A male character. He questions and over-analyzes everything. He seems to trust nothing and no one, and is the polar opposite of the 'Odd Mutation' runaway. Needless to say, he picks arguments and fights with him alot. He doesn't seem to be so much of a team player, and people have trouble talking with him. He was born with plenty of parts that didn't work, and his genes have been mixed with technology, and he has plenty of bionic parts. TAKEN
Psychic Runaway - A Female Character. She is friendly and outgoing, despite what's happened in her life, and loves to be around other people. She's a bit of a know-it-all, but after all, she is a psychic. She can hear the thoughts of others, detect when other consiousness's are near, and can manipulate thoughts. Her thought manipulation isn't long lasting, but it can be helpful in certain situations. She has a bit of a control complex, but everyone has their flaws. 'Avian Mutation' Runaway is her twin. TAKEN
Avian Mutation Runaway - A Female Character. Unlike her sister, she is shy and guarded. Though sweet and gentle, she doesn't do well with other people and avoids them. She has a problem with letting other people do the talking first, and wishes she didn't. She is an interesting mutation with wings and a light body. Her nails are black and pointed, like talons, and her wings resemble a birds. She can understand animals, which she seems to get along with better than people. 'Psychic' runaway is her twin. TAKEN
Shifter Mutation Runaway - A male character. He is shy and socially akward. He doesn't know how to interract with people all that well, be he seems to be getting better. He'd been mutated before birth, but because of his slower developement, the scientists had thought his mutation was a failure. He can mimick perfectly the appearance of another person for up to twenty minutes. His older brother happens to be 'Lead Retriever.' TAKEN
~~
Head Retreiver - A male character. He Cares very little about others, or even his own life. He justs wants to survive, and figures that the only way to do that is to stay on the right team. He was mutated before birth, the son of a scientist. He has the ability to take the form of a large black wolf, as well as being able to see a short distance into the future. Unortunately, th outcome is often unclear, or not good. His younger brother is 'Shifter mutation' runaway. TAKEN
Tracker Retriever - A female character. She's cruel and doesn't like other people. She only took the job of retriever because they told her to. But she could really care less. She ha the ability to know the whereabouts of a person at the moment she catches their scent, simply by smelling where the person has touched. A draw back is that the ability doesn't allow her any insight into how they got to where they are, the name of the location (unless there is a sign in the area), or the next move of the person. She can only get the scene they are in, but often, a scene description is enough. TAKEN
~~**~~
Character Skeleton
Name:
Age: {at least put an aproximate}
Gender:
Role?: {If you are one of 'nessisary' characters, put down their role. For original characters, just put whether they are a runaway or a retriever.}
Expiriment Description: {just for what your abilities/mutations/boinics might be. Give a nice, detailed description if nessisary.}
Personality:
History:
Relatives/Relationships: {friends or family, simple as that}
Crush: {Do not start with one, will be updated}
Looks: {Image, image and description, or just a description. Whichever you prefer.}
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The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 7 authors
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"Whatever saves me from another temper tantrum," Quince retorted with a light, teasing smile. Well, that was hardly anything of a taunt, but at least it was better than nothing. At least it made an excuse for the kind offer, but it didn't change the fact that he was practically just saying yes to her.
He watched her advance past him, and was surprised to see her come so close by him. Given such options, he'd noticed that Taryn preferred distance. He wasn't quite sure her reasoning behind it, but he'd noticed. Being able to determine a person's actions based on prior actions was one of his jobs, even if his slight premonitions dealt with that kind of thing for most situations. Something had switched her thinking patterns. He just hoped it wasn't his offer. Maybe he'd have to distance her a little extra... Just to be safe.
Quince studied her for a moment, as if he could see what was going on if he just looked close enough. But the action was pointless, and his soon focused on the path ahead of him.
He was off his game today. He needed to throw out some unkind words, but most anything seemed unprovoked. Not that he would actually wait to be provoked on any other day. Perhaps the events that had been non-stop until now had taken their toll. Maybe something really was wrong with him.
A scowl set into his face.
Not really directed at Taryn, or towards anyone else in particular. He was mainly upset with himself. Upset for caring, for showing weakness, for having emotions and pains and fears. He was upset with himself for nearly every peace of humanity that he still had left - that hadn't yet been tortured out of him. Selfishness he could accept. But weakness, fear, compassion. He wished that he could throw all those away. Be a mindless, careless, obedient dog. At least it would be easier. Less complicated, less painful. He wouldn't need to bother thinking about what people thought of him. He could make things easier and just be hated by all.
But it was hard to imagine - being so heartless that he wouldn't even think twice that Dahvie was on that list. The thought just made him hate himself more. Hate what he wanted for himself. Life was too complicated sometimes. He wanted it to end. If he returned to Darkgrove at all, mission completed or otherwise, he'd probably be useless to them. Letting him have a gun would be just like killing him themselves. They'd sooner torture him, despite meaning that they'd be keeping him alive for no reason. But that was just the way that Darkgrove was. The punishment had to be something that would fit the person. It had to be something that Darkgrove knew the person would hate. Take away what they had been fighting for. Make them suffer. The runners who just wanted to be free from Darkgrove, they either killed them, or made them want to die. It was nearly pointless, especially since Darkgrove would retrieve them all eventually. Quince couldn't understand their reasoning. But that was because Quince a cold-hearted ass with no instinct of self preservation.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, gazing off towards the side. His expression only seemed to darken as his mind over analyzed everything. His disposition was growing worse by the minute, and seemingly without reason...
He watched her advance past him, and was surprised to see her come so close by him. Given such options, he'd noticed that Taryn preferred distance. He wasn't quite sure her reasoning behind it, but he'd noticed. Being able to determine a person's actions based on prior actions was one of his jobs, even if his slight premonitions dealt with that kind of thing for most situations. Something had switched her thinking patterns. He just hoped it wasn't his offer. Maybe he'd have to distance her a little extra... Just to be safe.
Quince studied her for a moment, as if he could see what was going on if he just looked close enough. But the action was pointless, and his soon focused on the path ahead of him.
He was off his game today. He needed to throw out some unkind words, but most anything seemed unprovoked. Not that he would actually wait to be provoked on any other day. Perhaps the events that had been non-stop until now had taken their toll. Maybe something really was wrong with him.
A scowl set into his face.
Not really directed at Taryn, or towards anyone else in particular. He was mainly upset with himself. Upset for caring, for showing weakness, for having emotions and pains and fears. He was upset with himself for nearly every peace of humanity that he still had left - that hadn't yet been tortured out of him. Selfishness he could accept. But weakness, fear, compassion. He wished that he could throw all those away. Be a mindless, careless, obedient dog. At least it would be easier. Less complicated, less painful. He wouldn't need to bother thinking about what people thought of him. He could make things easier and just be hated by all.
But it was hard to imagine - being so heartless that he wouldn't even think twice that Dahvie was on that list. The thought just made him hate himself more. Hate what he wanted for himself. Life was too complicated sometimes. He wanted it to end. If he returned to Darkgrove at all, mission completed or otherwise, he'd probably be useless to them. Letting him have a gun would be just like killing him themselves. They'd sooner torture him, despite meaning that they'd be keeping him alive for no reason. But that was just the way that Darkgrove was. The punishment had to be something that would fit the person. It had to be something that Darkgrove knew the person would hate. Take away what they had been fighting for. Make them suffer. The runners who just wanted to be free from Darkgrove, they either killed them, or made them want to die. It was nearly pointless, especially since Darkgrove would retrieve them all eventually. Quince couldn't understand their reasoning. But that was because Quince a cold-hearted ass with no instinct of self preservation.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, gazing off towards the side. His expression only seemed to darken as his mind over analyzed everything. His disposition was growing worse by the minute, and seemingly without reason...
Taryn walked in a very casual manner - she didn't feel like she was in any hurry - her steps certainly didn't convey any hurry - in fact, several times, she tripped over errant roots because she was so unconcerned with her surroundings. Whether or not Quince laughed and made fun of her, Taryn didn't really notice. Her mind was still running around in circles, though now, she wasn't sure exactly what it was saying - it just darted around and around, and she could feel her comprehension and focus slipping.
The sun was starting to slip down now - it was getting late, which meant a stop soon would probably be necessary. And it was starting to get a bit nippy. She lightly touched the rip in her jacket - it wasn't that big - it wouldn't keep her jacket from doing its job but...
Well, I'm getting a new one from Mr. Blah over there, Taryn thought, too out of it to even think up another adjective to describe her 'partner'. She wasn't quite sure if that term really applied. Yes, they were working together, but it felt - odd - distant -
The ponderings drifted over Taryn's brain and then out again without leaving much of an imprint. She was on auto-pilot now, her speed natural and rather slow.
When she was finally snapped out of it, Taryn was not happy with what she saw.
They had reached the town - and there were people walking around. People, milling about, walking with wild abandon, some fast, some slow, some - God forbid - running into each other without a word.
What. The. Heck.
She didn't move from where she stood, right at the edge of the forest, and her first instinct was to turn around and run back into the forest - run as far as she could and get away from the crowds of careless humans, moving around with no order and no thought in their mind. Just the sight of them was enough to send Taryn into a mild panic attack - she'd never been in a town before, never seen videos or pictures or any sort of representation at all - in fact, she'd never visited any public place before. She'd only heard about them, and most of the descriptions had never included the average number of people that could be found in any town - especially at a busy time of day as it seemed to be.
Public means open to everyone, Taryn thought wildly. That should mean everyone can use it - not everyone should be there.
Her breathing was increasing, and without meaning to, she asked, "Why are there so many people?" in a breathless, almost frightened voice.
The sun was starting to slip down now - it was getting late, which meant a stop soon would probably be necessary. And it was starting to get a bit nippy. She lightly touched the rip in her jacket - it wasn't that big - it wouldn't keep her jacket from doing its job but...
Well, I'm getting a new one from Mr. Blah over there, Taryn thought, too out of it to even think up another adjective to describe her 'partner'. She wasn't quite sure if that term really applied. Yes, they were working together, but it felt - odd - distant -
The ponderings drifted over Taryn's brain and then out again without leaving much of an imprint. She was on auto-pilot now, her speed natural and rather slow.
When she was finally snapped out of it, Taryn was not happy with what she saw.
They had reached the town - and there were people walking around. People, milling about, walking with wild abandon, some fast, some slow, some - God forbid - running into each other without a word.
What. The. Heck.
She didn't move from where she stood, right at the edge of the forest, and her first instinct was to turn around and run back into the forest - run as far as she could and get away from the crowds of careless humans, moving around with no order and no thought in their mind. Just the sight of them was enough to send Taryn into a mild panic attack - she'd never been in a town before, never seen videos or pictures or any sort of representation at all - in fact, she'd never visited any public place before. She'd only heard about them, and most of the descriptions had never included the average number of people that could be found in any town - especially at a busy time of day as it seemed to be.
Public means open to everyone, Taryn thought wildly. That should mean everyone can use it - not everyone should be there.
Her breathing was increasing, and without meaning to, she asked, "Why are there so many people?" in a breathless, almost frightened voice.
Quince's facial expression relaxed as they came closer to the town. The idea of something else to focus on was comforting. He halted along with Taryn, raising a brow at her.
"It's a town, deary," He explained as if the fact were obvious, and her inquiry had been stupid. "Be happy we didn't stop in a city. The amount of people would have been much greater."
He hung back at the edge of the woods with her a moment, studying her hesitation. Eventually, he disregarded the reaction as being unimportant. It wouldn't matter. If she wanted to progress, she'd follow him through the crowd regardless of how much she didn't like it. It wasn't as if it would be impossible to avoid people. It would just be a lot of effort.
"C'mon," He urged, beginning to slowly progress towards the fine line between forest and town. "We'll pick up that jacket for you, first. Then i'm going to buy some food. Alright?"
Quince gave a quick glance back at her before facing forward again and began slinking into the rest of the crowd. He weaved easily through people, none of them taking note of him as he stepped around them, past them. Benefits to being light-framed and light-footed, he supposed. Not to mention being sho--
NO. Quince stopped the thought before it could progress. No, no he wasn't. Dahvie. Now Dahvie was short. Quince was simply.... Below average male height. But only by a little! About one inch below the lowest average. Of course, he was four inches below a more average average height.
But Quince would never admit to being short, and was surprised that he almost had, even it it was in the privacy of his own head. That was simply a slip up. Not something he would ever say aloud. Not willingly, anyway. It was just one of those things that a person is stuck with - as Quince showed no signs of growing any more, being the same height for the third year in a row, maybe a result of too much experimentation. It was obvious, but just one of those things you don't mention, less you don't mind being punched in the face a few times. Another of these sensitive spots for him? Well, his freckles. Those hellish little dots scattered on his cheeks and nose like he got covered in some brown-colored pepper. He hated those. Sure, they're cute on little kids or girls or gingers. But they were just a pain in the ass on Quince. Why couldn't Darkgrove do something useful and make some sort of freaky radiation to rid people of freckles forever? A laser, some sort of pill or applicant? As long as it didn't kill people, at least that would be a little less illegal and a little less weird. But nooooo. Freckles were "cute." Quince of course, had never had any desire to be cute, and when he was little had the strange belief that perhaps they would go away if he rubbed hard enough. He'd tried that four times when he was six, and all it had done was make his face raw.
The first time had been just to try it. The second was in case he hadn't rubbed hard enough. The third time to try it using soap and water (in case they needed to be washed off). And the fourth time just because he was a slow learner.
Quince navigated through the crowd easily, and started heading for the direction of the shopping district. He made no efforts to look behind him for Taryn. If she didn't move from her spot, well... He figured he'd go back to her after buying what he needed to. They could always wait until the sun fell and people were back inside to make their way to the train. What a generous thought. Maybe he really was sick.
"It's a town, deary," He explained as if the fact were obvious, and her inquiry had been stupid. "Be happy we didn't stop in a city. The amount of people would have been much greater."
He hung back at the edge of the woods with her a moment, studying her hesitation. Eventually, he disregarded the reaction as being unimportant. It wouldn't matter. If she wanted to progress, she'd follow him through the crowd regardless of how much she didn't like it. It wasn't as if it would be impossible to avoid people. It would just be a lot of effort.
"C'mon," He urged, beginning to slowly progress towards the fine line between forest and town. "We'll pick up that jacket for you, first. Then i'm going to buy some food. Alright?"
Quince gave a quick glance back at her before facing forward again and began slinking into the rest of the crowd. He weaved easily through people, none of them taking note of him as he stepped around them, past them. Benefits to being light-framed and light-footed, he supposed. Not to mention being sho--
NO. Quince stopped the thought before it could progress. No, no he wasn't. Dahvie. Now Dahvie was short. Quince was simply.... Below average male height. But only by a little! About one inch below the lowest average. Of course, he was four inches below a more average average height.
But Quince would never admit to being short, and was surprised that he almost had, even it it was in the privacy of his own head. That was simply a slip up. Not something he would ever say aloud. Not willingly, anyway. It was just one of those things that a person is stuck with - as Quince showed no signs of growing any more, being the same height for the third year in a row, maybe a result of too much experimentation. It was obvious, but just one of those things you don't mention, less you don't mind being punched in the face a few times. Another of these sensitive spots for him? Well, his freckles. Those hellish little dots scattered on his cheeks and nose like he got covered in some brown-colored pepper. He hated those. Sure, they're cute on little kids or girls or gingers. But they were just a pain in the ass on Quince. Why couldn't Darkgrove do something useful and make some sort of freaky radiation to rid people of freckles forever? A laser, some sort of pill or applicant? As long as it didn't kill people, at least that would be a little less illegal and a little less weird. But nooooo. Freckles were "cute." Quince of course, had never had any desire to be cute, and when he was little had the strange belief that perhaps they would go away if he rubbed hard enough. He'd tried that four times when he was six, and all it had done was make his face raw.
The first time had been just to try it. The second was in case he hadn't rubbed hard enough. The third time to try it using soap and water (in case they needed to be washed off). And the fourth time just because he was a slow learner.
Quince navigated through the crowd easily, and started heading for the direction of the shopping district. He made no efforts to look behind him for Taryn. If she didn't move from her spot, well... He figured he'd go back to her after buying what he needed to. They could always wait until the sun fell and people were back inside to make their way to the train. What a generous thought. Maybe he really was sick.
A city? Taryn felt her heart start to buzz just from the thought. She stumbled back several steps, her ears closing out anything that Quince said. Everything was turning into a low hum a few meters in front of her and her body had given up on staying calm and collected. Colors were swarming in front of her, all of them blurred together into a large monster that moved swiftly in every direction, changing every moment, some colors disappearing, some reappearing at the edges and making their way through her off-vision.
It wasn't until Taryn realized that Quince had moved past her - past her and into the monster that was the crowd - that the tension broke for a moment. She looked up - Quince was disappearing - disappearing into the crowd and she could feel panic bubbling up inside of her. What was she going to do? Was she supposed to follow him? But that was cruel. Forcing her into a crowd - even the scientists had never tried such a thing before. They had never thought that it was very noteworthy, her avoidance of people - a lot of the mutations had trust issues, maybe not like hers but - Quince was gone now - she couldn't see him anymore - and she was standing alone, at the edge of a monster that threatened to rise up and swallow her.
She shuddered, took a step forward -
A shock went through Taryn's body. Immediately, she stepped back again, and her blood was starting to boil. She turned and ran back into the forest, charging blindly through several bushes until pain and an upturned root broke her to a crashing halt. She caught her balance and then dropped to the ground, hugging the green grass and patches of bare ground tightly. It was warm, but now cooling, and she could feel the breaths, panicked and insane, shuddering through her as the adrenaline began to fall...
Breathe - in - out - in - out - Breathe -
Slowly, so slowly, but it was ebbing away now, the fear slowly dying down - as long as she didn't think about the crowd.
Taryn took a deep breath and sat up, crossing her legs automatically as she did so. Her hands were limp in her lap and she looked down at them.
There was no way that she'd be able to go back to that crowd and walk through it. No way. Not if someone offered her a new jacket or food or freedom. It was better to be in a cage than surrounded by so many bodies, so many faces, so many ways to get hurt...
After several long moments, Taryn's mind switched slowly back to Quince and the mission. He was probably wondering where she'd gone, probably getting pissy about it. She wondered if he would come back and look for her - or if he would just go on without her. That would be stupid. She was the one who had the scent in her nose, not him. He would just get lost. But maybe, if he did come back and find her, he would be disgusted by her weakness and just go on without her anyways. She could imagine that happening. Or maybe he'd force her to go into the crowd -
Shudders began to rack Taryn's body at the thought, and she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, lowering her chin onto her knees. She breathed slowly to calm herself down again. If Quince tried such a thing - she would run - it wouldn't matter what Quince did, if he tried to hurt her, kill her - she had to run.
But for the moment, Taryn couldn't bring herself to move. Her legs were shaky, her breath ragged -
She looked up at the setting sun and then lowered her head again, staring blindly at the base of a tree.
Would he come back?
It wasn't until Taryn realized that Quince had moved past her - past her and into the monster that was the crowd - that the tension broke for a moment. She looked up - Quince was disappearing - disappearing into the crowd and she could feel panic bubbling up inside of her. What was she going to do? Was she supposed to follow him? But that was cruel. Forcing her into a crowd - even the scientists had never tried such a thing before. They had never thought that it was very noteworthy, her avoidance of people - a lot of the mutations had trust issues, maybe not like hers but - Quince was gone now - she couldn't see him anymore - and she was standing alone, at the edge of a monster that threatened to rise up and swallow her.
She shuddered, took a step forward -
A shock went through Taryn's body. Immediately, she stepped back again, and her blood was starting to boil. She turned and ran back into the forest, charging blindly through several bushes until pain and an upturned root broke her to a crashing halt. She caught her balance and then dropped to the ground, hugging the green grass and patches of bare ground tightly. It was warm, but now cooling, and she could feel the breaths, panicked and insane, shuddering through her as the adrenaline began to fall...
Breathe - in - out - in - out - Breathe -
Slowly, so slowly, but it was ebbing away now, the fear slowly dying down - as long as she didn't think about the crowd.
Taryn took a deep breath and sat up, crossing her legs automatically as she did so. Her hands were limp in her lap and she looked down at them.
There was no way that she'd be able to go back to that crowd and walk through it. No way. Not if someone offered her a new jacket or food or freedom. It was better to be in a cage than surrounded by so many bodies, so many faces, so many ways to get hurt...
After several long moments, Taryn's mind switched slowly back to Quince and the mission. He was probably wondering where she'd gone, probably getting pissy about it. She wondered if he would come back and look for her - or if he would just go on without her. That would be stupid. She was the one who had the scent in her nose, not him. He would just get lost. But maybe, if he did come back and find her, he would be disgusted by her weakness and just go on without her anyways. She could imagine that happening. Or maybe he'd force her to go into the crowd -
Shudders began to rack Taryn's body at the thought, and she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, lowering her chin onto her knees. She breathed slowly to calm herself down again. If Quince tried such a thing - she would run - it wouldn't matter what Quince did, if he tried to hurt her, kill her - she had to run.
But for the moment, Taryn couldn't bring herself to move. Her legs were shaky, her breath ragged -
She looked up at the setting sun and then lowered her head again, staring blindly at the base of a tree.
Would he come back?
Quince paused at the corner of a sidewalk. He didn't recognize this town at all - he'd never stopped here before, it seemed - and navigation was difficult, but he made it to the district of town with shops after a short while. Continuing to walk down the sidewalk, he gazed into the shop windows. It seemed obvious that Taryn wasn't going to come along anytime soon, and he wondered why he'd even had a single thought that the girl would have dared the trip in the first place. She was distant with him, even, and her reaction alone should have convinced him of what her response would be.
But all the intuition in the world wasn't about to help him buy a jacket for her. He'd already said he would buy her one, but with her crowd phobia, it wouldn't be possible for him to take her to the store to pick one out. Which meant he'd have to pick one out for her himself. And what did he know about fashion? Let alone Taryn's taste in clothing.
Quince settled for going into the first boutique he saw. He wasn't particularly choosy, since he didn't know exactly what he was doing. The workers immediately noticed him; a lean pale boy looking lost and clueless in the middle of a store for teenage girls was a little hard not to notice.
"Can i help you?" One of the workers asked, stepping in front of him and smiling.
Quince seemed to consider the suggestion a little more than needed before answering her.
He sighed, putting his hand to the back of his neck. "I hope so. I have no idea what i'm doing in here. I promised a friend of mine that i'd get her a replacement for her jacket but i don't have a clue what she might like." He wasn't quite sure why he had said Taryn was a friend, but it was too late to take it back and settle for calling her an acquaintance. And as well, who buys a jacket for an acquaintance, anyway?
"Well, what kind of style is she into?"
"If i knew, would i be this desperate for help?" Quince retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his glance at the girl.
She and her co-worker let out small giggles at him. They weren't doing a good job keeping their customer satisfied. At this rate, he wondered why they got any business at all.
"Alright, well, i'll show you a few options, and you can pick out what you think she'll like best out of those, okay?" She suggested, beginning to lead him over to the racks of casual jackets.
Quince followed her, but his expression of being displeased was set, and he wasn't about to let these girls off the hook any time soon. One more aggravation and he would be gone. He could go to some other boutique and make those girls help him out. After a moment, the girl started pulling a few jackets off their racks and showing them to him. A few seemed just plain too flashy, a couple others were too frilly, and some just seemed cheaply made.
The girl seemed to be getting as impatient Quince after a short while, and plucked a simple brown leather coat from the rack on the far wall. It had a sleek design, and the build would make it effective for it's purpose. It wasn't about to rip easily, and it could take a little wear and tear. If she didn't like it, too bad. Quince was really being generous at this point even trying at all at this point. He walked back with the worker and watched her rack up the total.
Damn wholesale bitches, he thought, handing over the credit cards. If i wasn't trying to go over budget a little anyway, i would have left them to just go rip off some other sucker. But that didn't keep a scowl off his face. The girls had stopped smiling at him as well. He was no longer an interesting little customer, he was just a young looking guy with a piss poor attitude.
They gave him a few fake smiles and thanks for shopping with them as he retrieved his credit card and the bag. He left without any other words, a little agitated at the experience. God, did he hate people. If he could just go around shooting people, it would be so much easier. But of course, that wouldn't be 'acceptable.' Killing people wasn't exactly okay. Well, not when you got caught.
He continued down the street a little while, and stopped in another place to buy himself a new hoody, positive that with the time he'd given it, the blood stain had set into his old one, and probably would be hell to get out. He'd just throw that one out. Quince's shopping experience for himself was a lot easier, he simple went in, grabbed something simple, and left, off to find a place where he could buy a load of food that he didn't even need. But he didn't like the way his normal diet was. He was the type of person with a huge appetite, and the simple idea of buying as much as he could shove in his mouth was appealing. After all, the only thing that had been in his stomach since the day before yesterday was the blood he had heaved a few hours earlier. Eating something would probably make himself feel better. Before beginning to head back, he made stops in a candy store and a McDonalds. Obviously, not the best choices... not in the least. But aside from liking to eat as much as he damn well pleased, it was nice to eat things that he particularly wasn't allowed. Like chocolate. Due to canine DNA, scientists worried that it would make him sick. Well...... it did. But he liked it anyway. A little sickness like that was hardly something to worry about. He wouldn't really care.
Arms full of bags - mainly McDonald's to-go bags filled to the rim with big macs and fries - and buying a couple tickets for the train in advance, he started heading back to the place where he'd left Taryn. It took perhaps a few minutes to regain his direction, and then maybe twenty to reach that spot beside the town again. In the end of it all, he had probably been gone maybe two hours, but to his surprise, Taryn hadn't seemed to ditch the area.
He walked in closer and tossed the bag with the girl's jacket inside at her.
"I don't care if you absolutely hate it. That's what you're getting since you didn't come into town," He said to her, rather than a greeting. He got right to the point in the hopes that he wouldn't need to explain anything.
Quince sat down at a tree near by, close enough to talk but distant enough that he figured it wouldn't bother her.
"I also got train tickets already. We'll go at ten o'clock. By then, the amount of people out will die down considerably, and you shouldn't have too much of a problem, okay scaredy cat?" He pulled one of the pitifully-assembled sandwiches from the paper bag and began unwrapping it. "Did you want anything to eat? You get a choice of big macs, french fries, or chocolate bars."
But all the intuition in the world wasn't about to help him buy a jacket for her. He'd already said he would buy her one, but with her crowd phobia, it wouldn't be possible for him to take her to the store to pick one out. Which meant he'd have to pick one out for her himself. And what did he know about fashion? Let alone Taryn's taste in clothing.
Quince settled for going into the first boutique he saw. He wasn't particularly choosy, since he didn't know exactly what he was doing. The workers immediately noticed him; a lean pale boy looking lost and clueless in the middle of a store for teenage girls was a little hard not to notice.
"Can i help you?" One of the workers asked, stepping in front of him and smiling.
Quince seemed to consider the suggestion a little more than needed before answering her.
He sighed, putting his hand to the back of his neck. "I hope so. I have no idea what i'm doing in here. I promised a friend of mine that i'd get her a replacement for her jacket but i don't have a clue what she might like." He wasn't quite sure why he had said Taryn was a friend, but it was too late to take it back and settle for calling her an acquaintance. And as well, who buys a jacket for an acquaintance, anyway?
"Well, what kind of style is she into?"
"If i knew, would i be this desperate for help?" Quince retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his glance at the girl.
She and her co-worker let out small giggles at him. They weren't doing a good job keeping their customer satisfied. At this rate, he wondered why they got any business at all.
"Alright, well, i'll show you a few options, and you can pick out what you think she'll like best out of those, okay?" She suggested, beginning to lead him over to the racks of casual jackets.
Quince followed her, but his expression of being displeased was set, and he wasn't about to let these girls off the hook any time soon. One more aggravation and he would be gone. He could go to some other boutique and make those girls help him out. After a moment, the girl started pulling a few jackets off their racks and showing them to him. A few seemed just plain too flashy, a couple others were too frilly, and some just seemed cheaply made.
The girl seemed to be getting as impatient Quince after a short while, and plucked a simple brown leather coat from the rack on the far wall. It had a sleek design, and the build would make it effective for it's purpose. It wasn't about to rip easily, and it could take a little wear and tear. If she didn't like it, too bad. Quince was really being generous at this point even trying at all at this point. He walked back with the worker and watched her rack up the total.
Damn wholesale bitches, he thought, handing over the credit cards. If i wasn't trying to go over budget a little anyway, i would have left them to just go rip off some other sucker. But that didn't keep a scowl off his face. The girls had stopped smiling at him as well. He was no longer an interesting little customer, he was just a young looking guy with a piss poor attitude.
They gave him a few fake smiles and thanks for shopping with them as he retrieved his credit card and the bag. He left without any other words, a little agitated at the experience. God, did he hate people. If he could just go around shooting people, it would be so much easier. But of course, that wouldn't be 'acceptable.' Killing people wasn't exactly okay. Well, not when you got caught.
He continued down the street a little while, and stopped in another place to buy himself a new hoody, positive that with the time he'd given it, the blood stain had set into his old one, and probably would be hell to get out. He'd just throw that one out. Quince's shopping experience for himself was a lot easier, he simple went in, grabbed something simple, and left, off to find a place where he could buy a load of food that he didn't even need. But he didn't like the way his normal diet was. He was the type of person with a huge appetite, and the simple idea of buying as much as he could shove in his mouth was appealing. After all, the only thing that had been in his stomach since the day before yesterday was the blood he had heaved a few hours earlier. Eating something would probably make himself feel better. Before beginning to head back, he made stops in a candy store and a McDonalds. Obviously, not the best choices... not in the least. But aside from liking to eat as much as he damn well pleased, it was nice to eat things that he particularly wasn't allowed. Like chocolate. Due to canine DNA, scientists worried that it would make him sick. Well...... it did. But he liked it anyway. A little sickness like that was hardly something to worry about. He wouldn't really care.
Arms full of bags - mainly McDonald's to-go bags filled to the rim with big macs and fries - and buying a couple tickets for the train in advance, he started heading back to the place where he'd left Taryn. It took perhaps a few minutes to regain his direction, and then maybe twenty to reach that spot beside the town again. In the end of it all, he had probably been gone maybe two hours, but to his surprise, Taryn hadn't seemed to ditch the area.
He walked in closer and tossed the bag with the girl's jacket inside at her.
"I don't care if you absolutely hate it. That's what you're getting since you didn't come into town," He said to her, rather than a greeting. He got right to the point in the hopes that he wouldn't need to explain anything.
Quince sat down at a tree near by, close enough to talk but distant enough that he figured it wouldn't bother her.
"I also got train tickets already. We'll go at ten o'clock. By then, the amount of people out will die down considerably, and you shouldn't have too much of a problem, okay scaredy cat?" He pulled one of the pitifully-assembled sandwiches from the paper bag and began unwrapping it. "Did you want anything to eat? You get a choice of big macs, french fries, or chocolate bars."
Very, very slowly, the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. If she had gotten up and walked out of the forest, there was a chance that she might have been able to see the sun for longer. But that wasn't really an option. And besides, given how many buildings there probably were in that town, it was possible that the view wouldn't have changed at all. And even if it had, eventually, the sun would have disappeared anyways, leaving the world cold and lightless for - what felt like - ages on end.
It was cold. Taryn noticed that the moment the last ray of light disappeared. She curled into a tighter ball, squeezing her fingers together as tightly as she could - as if doing so could somehow help her retain heat. Cold was a lack of light, a lack of sun. Cold was a lack of life - and while Taryn wasn't as concerned about dying or survival as much as the others at Darkgrove, she still didn't like the way that 'death' tasted in the back of her throat - like some overly bitter medicine that she would eventually be forced to swallow.
Taryn breathed out and wondered why she couldn't see her breath in the air. It certainly felt cold enough - but that was silly. The sun had only just gone down, and the cold was only beginning to settle in. She pulled her jacket in tighter around her, brushing the tear as she did so. She fingered it for a moment, imagining icy wind blasting through the holes - another ridiculous thought. There wasn't that much wind, and, even if there had been, the hole wasn't large enough to actually reduce the jacket's effectiveness.
Thoughts of the jacket eventually led to thoughts about Quince - and his promise to get her a new jacket. Had he been serious? Possible enough if he wanted to spend extra money... but still. It seemed a bit - out of character for Quince.
That thought almost brought a smile to Taryn's lips - something else that she could use to taunt him - as if she actually needed more ammo. Her chin dropped. But, it was probably better that she had this to use - all her other material were things that might actually -
And since when have I cared about hurting people?
Shaking her head, Taryn drew herself in again, her eyes fluttering shut.
It was so - cold.
Eventually, Taryn's eyes opened again, and she wondered why - she had been having a nice nap. She yawned - and then froze. Something in her stomach - her heart? - leapt a bit.
Quince's scent was filling the air. He was getting close.
She uncurled herself slowly and then wiggled backwards until she was leaned up against a tree, a slightly more comfortable position.
Within moments, Quince walked into the clearing and spotted her. He walked towards her - and tossed a large paper bag at her. Taryn caught it clumsily and it immediately slid to the ground. She looked into it as Quince spoke. Her eyes widened - both at his words and at the sight. He had really gotten her a new jacket - light brown leather, almost tan, with long sleeves and zip up pockets on either side. The jacket itself was also maintained by a zipper, but the collar could be folded down for a more classic, casual look.
As Taryn pulled it out, a scent of new leather, human flesh, and just a dab of Quince's smell filled her nose. She wrinkled it, but decided that she would get used to it. She took off her old jacket, half-listening to Quince ramble on about train tickets and going into town - even that seemed to dim down before the jacket.
It was warm, a little too new for her tastes - too cold smelling, but still warm, and what was more - it was a present. A present from the person in the world that she had least expected to get something from - not that she expected to get anything from anyone, but Quince was a special case.
She took in the scent for another moment and then zipped the jacket up partway, folding down the collar and dumping her old jacket into the bag, where its denim crumbled to the bag's shape.
For a moment, she nested in the comfort and then looked back at Quince, who was starting to eat. "Did you want anything to eat? You get a choice of big macs, french fries, or chocolate bars."
Taryn looked at Quince and then said, in a voice that was much too soft, "Big mac." She paused and then said, a bit tartly, "Please." She tilted her head slightly and then gave Quince the smallest smile and murmured, even quieter, "Thank you. I - appreciate it." She looked down at the jacket.
It was cold. Taryn noticed that the moment the last ray of light disappeared. She curled into a tighter ball, squeezing her fingers together as tightly as she could - as if doing so could somehow help her retain heat. Cold was a lack of light, a lack of sun. Cold was a lack of life - and while Taryn wasn't as concerned about dying or survival as much as the others at Darkgrove, she still didn't like the way that 'death' tasted in the back of her throat - like some overly bitter medicine that she would eventually be forced to swallow.
Taryn breathed out and wondered why she couldn't see her breath in the air. It certainly felt cold enough - but that was silly. The sun had only just gone down, and the cold was only beginning to settle in. She pulled her jacket in tighter around her, brushing the tear as she did so. She fingered it for a moment, imagining icy wind blasting through the holes - another ridiculous thought. There wasn't that much wind, and, even if there had been, the hole wasn't large enough to actually reduce the jacket's effectiveness.
Thoughts of the jacket eventually led to thoughts about Quince - and his promise to get her a new jacket. Had he been serious? Possible enough if he wanted to spend extra money... but still. It seemed a bit - out of character for Quince.
That thought almost brought a smile to Taryn's lips - something else that she could use to taunt him - as if she actually needed more ammo. Her chin dropped. But, it was probably better that she had this to use - all her other material were things that might actually -
And since when have I cared about hurting people?
Shaking her head, Taryn drew herself in again, her eyes fluttering shut.
It was so - cold.
Eventually, Taryn's eyes opened again, and she wondered why - she had been having a nice nap. She yawned - and then froze. Something in her stomach - her heart? - leapt a bit.
Quince's scent was filling the air. He was getting close.
She uncurled herself slowly and then wiggled backwards until she was leaned up against a tree, a slightly more comfortable position.
Within moments, Quince walked into the clearing and spotted her. He walked towards her - and tossed a large paper bag at her. Taryn caught it clumsily and it immediately slid to the ground. She looked into it as Quince spoke. Her eyes widened - both at his words and at the sight. He had really gotten her a new jacket - light brown leather, almost tan, with long sleeves and zip up pockets on either side. The jacket itself was also maintained by a zipper, but the collar could be folded down for a more classic, casual look.
As Taryn pulled it out, a scent of new leather, human flesh, and just a dab of Quince's smell filled her nose. She wrinkled it, but decided that she would get used to it. She took off her old jacket, half-listening to Quince ramble on about train tickets and going into town - even that seemed to dim down before the jacket.
It was warm, a little too new for her tastes - too cold smelling, but still warm, and what was more - it was a present. A present from the person in the world that she had least expected to get something from - not that she expected to get anything from anyone, but Quince was a special case.
She took in the scent for another moment and then zipped the jacket up partway, folding down the collar and dumping her old jacket into the bag, where its denim crumbled to the bag's shape.
For a moment, she nested in the comfort and then looked back at Quince, who was starting to eat. "Did you want anything to eat? You get a choice of big macs, french fries, or chocolate bars."
Taryn looked at Quince and then said, in a voice that was much too soft, "Big mac." She paused and then said, a bit tartly, "Please." She tilted her head slightly and then gave Quince the smallest smile and murmured, even quieter, "Thank you. I - appreciate it." She looked down at the jacket.
Bree stood on the outskirts of the town, her mind searching for what the next step was. People wandering by looked at her with some kind of sympathy- between running around in the forest and her most recent shots, she must have looked dirty.
Shots, they see your shot scars! Her paranoid mind screamed. Bree instantly and instinctively rolled her arm sleeves down to cover the green, blue and red marks that littered her arms. She shook her hair down over her temples to hide the purple and black ones. Lights, sounds overwhelmed her... but she had to find somewhere to go- what was it that Katlin and Dahvie mentioned? An inn or a hotel or- food.
Her stomach growled. She turned around to see if Katlin and Dahvie were here with her... She couldn't sort out her thoughts- they were busy subconsciously finding safe locations for her to go to, making mental maps of the city.
Shots, they see your shot scars! Her paranoid mind screamed. Bree instantly and instinctively rolled her arm sleeves down to cover the green, blue and red marks that littered her arms. She shook her hair down over her temples to hide the purple and black ones. Lights, sounds overwhelmed her... but she had to find somewhere to go- what was it that Katlin and Dahvie mentioned? An inn or a hotel or- food.
Her stomach growled. She turned around to see if Katlin and Dahvie were here with her... She couldn't sort out her thoughts- they were busy subconsciously finding safe locations for her to go to, making mental maps of the city.
Quince grabbed another wrapped burger from the bag and tossed it at her. He took a few more bites of his own burger, half listening to what she said after that.
"Thanks?" He scoffed, giving her a 'you're so pathetic' smile. "Thanks for what? Don't think i went out of my way or anything for you, Deary." - a lie - "I needed a new hoody for myself because mine was all bloody, so i figured i would kill two birds with one stone." - another lie - "I picked up the first thing i saw." - more lies - "It was on the cheap," - lies lies lies - "and it's probably not even real leather." - a complete lie.
Firstly, buying the jacket for Taryn had been hardly convenient. He hated dealing with those boutique bitches, and for some reason, he still bought from them. Secondly, he'd entered the boutique with the sole purpose of getting that replacement jacket for Taryn. The idea of buying a new hoody had come second, and he had gone to a completely different store for that. He only figured he should buy one because his own was soiled with his own blood. Thirdly, it had taken forever to find something that Quince thought would be effective. Fourthly, the jacket was nowhere close to being on a sale rack. In fact, Quince could have sworn those rotten girls had charged him at least ten dollars more than that damn jacket was really worth. And fifthly, Quince knew from the moment he caught whiff of that jacket that it was genuine. It reeked of dead cow hide. Refined or not, dead animal was dead animal. And it was appealing. Which brought him to the craving for cheeseburgers.
Quince finished the first burger in another few bites, crumpled the paper wrapping up, and drove his hand deep into the bag to grab a fist full of fries. He ate them two at a time while he pulled out another burger. He was eating as if he hadn't done so in weeks, but in a way, he felt that way as well. One meal a day as opposed to the normal three was barely sufficient for Quince. And starve days made it even worse. It made it nearly impossible for him to gain enough weight to be at least in the healthy weight zone. If it weren't for the light layer of muscle, he would be a helpless pile of skin and bones. Luckily for him that his constant self-healing process made the unhealthy figure tolerable. But if he lost any more weight, he probably wouldn't be able to stand at all with all the factors. His spine was his weak spot as it was. Eating massive amounts like this would help him sustain energy out here, at least.
"But don't think i'm letting you have a freebie," He added, crumpling up another paper wrapper and pulling out his third burger from the bag. "You're going to owe me. Not like, money or anything... That would just be stupid. You'll owe me a favor."
Quince paused to take a few more bites of his burger, and was already over halfway done with it.
"I'm not sure when i'll use that favor, but you'll pay up eventually."
He finished off the burger and started fishing through another bag that he'd put the candy bars in. He stared at the wrapped bar with more hesitation than he had for the other food, but eventually tore down the wrapping and bit off a large chuck of chocolate with his teeth. A couple bars of milk chocolate wasn't going to hurt much....
"I hope you're little phobia isn't going to get in the way of us taking that ten o'clock train," He made note of, biting off another piece of chocolate. "Unless you're even more pathetic than i had originally presumed?"
"Thanks?" He scoffed, giving her a 'you're so pathetic' smile. "Thanks for what? Don't think i went out of my way or anything for you, Deary." - a lie - "I needed a new hoody for myself because mine was all bloody, so i figured i would kill two birds with one stone." - another lie - "I picked up the first thing i saw." - more lies - "It was on the cheap," - lies lies lies - "and it's probably not even real leather." - a complete lie.
Firstly, buying the jacket for Taryn had been hardly convenient. He hated dealing with those boutique bitches, and for some reason, he still bought from them. Secondly, he'd entered the boutique with the sole purpose of getting that replacement jacket for Taryn. The idea of buying a new hoody had come second, and he had gone to a completely different store for that. He only figured he should buy one because his own was soiled with his own blood. Thirdly, it had taken forever to find something that Quince thought would be effective. Fourthly, the jacket was nowhere close to being on a sale rack. In fact, Quince could have sworn those rotten girls had charged him at least ten dollars more than that damn jacket was really worth. And fifthly, Quince knew from the moment he caught whiff of that jacket that it was genuine. It reeked of dead cow hide. Refined or not, dead animal was dead animal. And it was appealing. Which brought him to the craving for cheeseburgers.
Quince finished the first burger in another few bites, crumpled the paper wrapping up, and drove his hand deep into the bag to grab a fist full of fries. He ate them two at a time while he pulled out another burger. He was eating as if he hadn't done so in weeks, but in a way, he felt that way as well. One meal a day as opposed to the normal three was barely sufficient for Quince. And starve days made it even worse. It made it nearly impossible for him to gain enough weight to be at least in the healthy weight zone. If it weren't for the light layer of muscle, he would be a helpless pile of skin and bones. Luckily for him that his constant self-healing process made the unhealthy figure tolerable. But if he lost any more weight, he probably wouldn't be able to stand at all with all the factors. His spine was his weak spot as it was. Eating massive amounts like this would help him sustain energy out here, at least.
"But don't think i'm letting you have a freebie," He added, crumpling up another paper wrapper and pulling out his third burger from the bag. "You're going to owe me. Not like, money or anything... That would just be stupid. You'll owe me a favor."
Quince paused to take a few more bites of his burger, and was already over halfway done with it.
"I'm not sure when i'll use that favor, but you'll pay up eventually."
He finished off the burger and started fishing through another bag that he'd put the candy bars in. He stared at the wrapped bar with more hesitation than he had for the other food, but eventually tore down the wrapping and bit off a large chuck of chocolate with his teeth. A couple bars of milk chocolate wasn't going to hurt much....
"I hope you're little phobia isn't going to get in the way of us taking that ten o'clock train," He made note of, biting off another piece of chocolate. "Unless you're even more pathetic than i had originally presumed?"
Carefully, Taryn peeled the wrapper from the burger as Quince began to talk. She was only half-listening, trying to concentrate instead on not getting grease on her hands - she didn't like the feel of extremely oily foods - she didn't like having dirty hands. As he went along, she started to pay more attention, although the words themselves weren't so important, not until -
Not real? Taryn thought. She took another whiff of the jacket just in case she had been hallucinating before. Not real? She wondered. She looked at Quince. Among his mutations, there were several that involved heightened senses - or so she remembered. And if that were true, it would mean that he knew - knew very well from the scent of death on the jacket - that it was real leather. And if it was real and he was lying - that would mean that there was a possibility that he was lying in the other parts of his sentence. Which would mean that he had gone out of his way to buy something nice for her, even if it was just to make it up to her. Taryn looked at him. Was that what it was? Had he done something nice? He had heightened senses...
Or maybe that was only when he was a wolf.
Taryn turned her attention back to to her burger. She had unwrapped it part way and there was a layer of wax paper between her fingers and the burger. She wondered what the best way to eat would be and then shrugged and just took a small bite.
It was decent. Not amazing. A lot of grease. But decent. She swallowed and took another bite. It wasn't at all like what she normally ate. All foods cooked in Darkgrove were made with energy conservation in mind - what would be the best food for the situation that would cost the least amount of money or energy? It meant that most of the meals were rather tasteless, bland things with an occasional spicy or bitter palate thrown in to test something the scientists were wondering about.
So the overly salty, oily, semi-crunchy taste of the burger took a little getting used to. But as she finished the first one, she decided that it was something that she would definitely grow to like.
She was in the middle of deciding if it was worth it to get close to Quince to get another burger - or asking him for another one - when he started speaking again - this time about a favor in exchange for the jacket. Taryn listened with one raised eyebrow.
'A favor'. 'Eventually'. Taryn smirked as the words entered her mind. Given the way he was talking, it was probably something that would never happen. And even if he did ask for something... there was very little chance that he'd get it. She readjusted the jacket absently, taking in its leather and human and Quince odor.
The smell of something sweet and creamy filled the air. Taryn looked up, nose pricking up.
Quince was unwrapping a chocolate bar.
In the back of her mind, Taryn vaguely remembered overhearing a warning a scientist had given Quince before - don't eat chocolate. He was too much like a dog that pure cocoa or even a ripoff of it would likely harm him greatly. With that thought in mind, Taryn blinked at Quince as he hesitated for a moment and then began to chomp down on it.
Oh dear... This is definitely not going to end well... She was about to open her mouth to get in some quip when Quince beat her to it.
"I hope your little phobia isn't going to get in the way of us taking that ten o'clock train. Unless you're even more pathetic than I had originally presumed?"
Train... The thought of the town came back to Taryn in a shock, and she took a deep breath to keep herself from panicking just at the thought. Logic was going to be the only way that she'd get through this.
The time of the train was 10:00, which would probably mean that most of the people would be gone. With only a few people wandering the streets, it would be easier to keep her ten meter distance from every other human. And this was necessary to do what she was supposed to.
It took several minutes of mind-wrestling before Taryn's fears were finally conquered by the repeating chant of logic. She looked up at Quince. "I'll be fine." She paused and edged her way over to Quince, kneeling down and rummaging in a few of the bags for another burger, a cup of fries and a large chocolate bar. She turned and skirted back to her spot as fast as was possible and then sat down to enjoy her food. As she did so, she added tartly, "What about you, Mr. Glutton? You gonna be okay with all that cocoa in you?"
Not real? Taryn thought. She took another whiff of the jacket just in case she had been hallucinating before. Not real? She wondered. She looked at Quince. Among his mutations, there were several that involved heightened senses - or so she remembered. And if that were true, it would mean that he knew - knew very well from the scent of death on the jacket - that it was real leather. And if it was real and he was lying - that would mean that there was a possibility that he was lying in the other parts of his sentence. Which would mean that he had gone out of his way to buy something nice for her, even if it was just to make it up to her. Taryn looked at him. Was that what it was? Had he done something nice? He had heightened senses...
Or maybe that was only when he was a wolf.
Taryn turned her attention back to to her burger. She had unwrapped it part way and there was a layer of wax paper between her fingers and the burger. She wondered what the best way to eat would be and then shrugged and just took a small bite.
It was decent. Not amazing. A lot of grease. But decent. She swallowed and took another bite. It wasn't at all like what she normally ate. All foods cooked in Darkgrove were made with energy conservation in mind - what would be the best food for the situation that would cost the least amount of money or energy? It meant that most of the meals were rather tasteless, bland things with an occasional spicy or bitter palate thrown in to test something the scientists were wondering about.
So the overly salty, oily, semi-crunchy taste of the burger took a little getting used to. But as she finished the first one, she decided that it was something that she would definitely grow to like.
She was in the middle of deciding if it was worth it to get close to Quince to get another burger - or asking him for another one - when he started speaking again - this time about a favor in exchange for the jacket. Taryn listened with one raised eyebrow.
'A favor'. 'Eventually'. Taryn smirked as the words entered her mind. Given the way he was talking, it was probably something that would never happen. And even if he did ask for something... there was very little chance that he'd get it. She readjusted the jacket absently, taking in its leather and human and Quince odor.
The smell of something sweet and creamy filled the air. Taryn looked up, nose pricking up.
Quince was unwrapping a chocolate bar.
In the back of her mind, Taryn vaguely remembered overhearing a warning a scientist had given Quince before - don't eat chocolate. He was too much like a dog that pure cocoa or even a ripoff of it would likely harm him greatly. With that thought in mind, Taryn blinked at Quince as he hesitated for a moment and then began to chomp down on it.
Oh dear... This is definitely not going to end well... She was about to open her mouth to get in some quip when Quince beat her to it.
"I hope your little phobia isn't going to get in the way of us taking that ten o'clock train. Unless you're even more pathetic than I had originally presumed?"
Train... The thought of the town came back to Taryn in a shock, and she took a deep breath to keep herself from panicking just at the thought. Logic was going to be the only way that she'd get through this.
The time of the train was 10:00, which would probably mean that most of the people would be gone. With only a few people wandering the streets, it would be easier to keep her ten meter distance from every other human. And this was necessary to do what she was supposed to.
It took several minutes of mind-wrestling before Taryn's fears were finally conquered by the repeating chant of logic. She looked up at Quince. "I'll be fine." She paused and edged her way over to Quince, kneeling down and rummaging in a few of the bags for another burger, a cup of fries and a large chocolate bar. She turned and skirted back to her spot as fast as was possible and then sat down to enjoy her food. As she did so, she added tartly, "What about you, Mr. Glutton? You gonna be okay with all that cocoa in you?"
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"Nya!" Andrew yawned in a cat like manor which was odd because he was half dog. He had been nestled in the ground outside of the sewers that ran off from the asylum which shielded his odor from even the best trackers. Andrew was the best when it came to living off the scraps of the asylum seeing as he built the place so he would have all sorts of ways to get around without the Darkgrove staff catching on.
"Where is everyone? I can't smell Quince, and he never leaves Darkgrove unless he is looking for escapees. No others got away and I slept through it! Damn how could I be so stupid!?" He beat himself up whilst climbing throughout Darkgrove and locating an ATV that was lying in the warehouse on the outskirts of the compound. "Now its time for me to go to work, its been about twenty years since I drove one of these things but I guess I will have to start learning fast!" He yelled as warning sirens blaring intruder alert sounded. Soon he was out on the open road following scents of Quince and his brother along with foreign scents that seemed to be altered from there original state.
"Where is everyone? I can't smell Quince, and he never leaves Darkgrove unless he is looking for escapees. No others got away and I slept through it! Damn how could I be so stupid!?" He beat himself up whilst climbing throughout Darkgrove and locating an ATV that was lying in the warehouse on the outskirts of the compound. "Now its time for me to go to work, its been about twenty years since I drove one of these things but I guess I will have to start learning fast!" He yelled as warning sirens blaring intruder alert sounded. Soon he was out on the open road following scents of Quince and his brother along with foreign scents that seemed to be altered from there original state.
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Katlin
I turned to look at the town, then at Bree, then at Quince. "Anyone thinking that maybe I'm not going to do too good here?" I asked them both.
I had no idea what color my eyes were. That wasn't so bad. It was dark, so the feather imprints on my skin were almost invisible. But my hair wasn't. It's quite bright and stands out.
I look around. There's no help for it. "I'll be back in around fifteen minutes."
I move to a quieter part of town and jump onto a roof when no one is looking. I have to find a way to disguise my hair, or make it look more normal. Even if I have to "borrow" something to do it.
I turned to look at the town, then at Bree, then at Quince. "Anyone thinking that maybe I'm not going to do too good here?" I asked them both.
I had no idea what color my eyes were. That wasn't so bad. It was dark, so the feather imprints on my skin were almost invisible. But my hair wasn't. It's quite bright and stands out.
I look around. There's no help for it. "I'll be back in around fifteen minutes."
I move to a quieter part of town and jump onto a roof when no one is looking. I have to find a way to disguise my hair, or make it look more normal. Even if I have to "borrow" something to do it.
Quince rolled his eyes, biting off another chunk of candy bar with his teeth. He took a short moment to eat the piece before responding. He even took his time. Her suggestion that he wouldn't be able handle a few chocolate bars was hardly important to him.
"Oh please," Quince said as if the suggestion was stupid, even though it was completely reasonable. He was, in fact, actually a bit worried about the subject himself, but wasn't about to admit that. "It's milk chocolate... The cocoa is very diluted. One or two chocolate bars isn't about to kill me."
He took a look at his wrist watch a second, to check the time. It would be a while they would be sitting there like this. Quince frowned to himself, thinking about the situation at hand. He'd have to sit here with Taryn for a few hours.... There wasn't any way she was about to let them sit there in silence in the time, and even if she did, the time would only seem to pass slower. This was going to be a painful few hours until they were headed to that train. He didn't like the idea in the least. Why he'd been so generous about the situation in the first place alluded him. He could have always dragged her against her will. Now that would have been a more characteristic choice. But perhaps the events of the day had left him a little drained. He almost just wanted it to be over.
After a few more large bites, the candy bar was devoured. Quince brushed his arm against his mouth, clearing the area of excess chocolate smears that had been left there. His forearm came back with one small smear of chocolate, and he ran his tongue over the spot, much like an animal would. That was animal behavior for you, it showed even when he was a human. At least a little. Though many people would say that it showed too much; mainly in stupidity. But those were the kind of people that Quince ignored.
"Why should you care, anyway?" He asked, leaning back against the tree behind him and rummaging around to get the bag that had his new hoody in it. It wasn't as if he was cold - animal blood made him seem like he had a constant temperature - but he just wanted to wear it. "I certainly don't."
He finally pulled the grey-purple hoody from a bag and pulled it on. He didn't even need any jacket. If it was around twenty degrees or so, sure, he'd need a jacket, but for now, putting on the hoody was purely out of habit. He liked wearing one. Quince pulled up the zipper and let his body nestle in the new, comfortable fabric. It was clean, and not nearly as worn as his old one. The one he'd gotten blood on was dingy, and he'd had it for years. And it was just some hand-me-down at that. It never had really fit him, even to the day. It was probably a large, and he was maybe a medium. Possibly even a small... or, with his lack of weight and height, more than likely a small. Not that he would admit that particularly. If asked, he was a completely average medium, and that was the size hoody he had purchased. Problem was, it showed pretty clearly that the jacket wasn't really sized for him. But a loose hoody was a comfortable one. He was okay with that. For the sake of lying, he could always say that the jacket he'd purchased was a large.
After another moment of considering, and another moment of hesitation, he pulled a second chocolate bar from the bag, peeled down the wrapper, broke off a piece with his fingers, and ate it. Quince sort of wondered whether the idea of eating two was an okay one. He'd eaten chocolate bars before, but two at once was a little risky.
"Oh please," Quince said as if the suggestion was stupid, even though it was completely reasonable. He was, in fact, actually a bit worried about the subject himself, but wasn't about to admit that. "It's milk chocolate... The cocoa is very diluted. One or two chocolate bars isn't about to kill me."
He took a look at his wrist watch a second, to check the time. It would be a while they would be sitting there like this. Quince frowned to himself, thinking about the situation at hand. He'd have to sit here with Taryn for a few hours.... There wasn't any way she was about to let them sit there in silence in the time, and even if she did, the time would only seem to pass slower. This was going to be a painful few hours until they were headed to that train. He didn't like the idea in the least. Why he'd been so generous about the situation in the first place alluded him. He could have always dragged her against her will. Now that would have been a more characteristic choice. But perhaps the events of the day had left him a little drained. He almost just wanted it to be over.
After a few more large bites, the candy bar was devoured. Quince brushed his arm against his mouth, clearing the area of excess chocolate smears that had been left there. His forearm came back with one small smear of chocolate, and he ran his tongue over the spot, much like an animal would. That was animal behavior for you, it showed even when he was a human. At least a little. Though many people would say that it showed too much; mainly in stupidity. But those were the kind of people that Quince ignored.
"Why should you care, anyway?" He asked, leaning back against the tree behind him and rummaging around to get the bag that had his new hoody in it. It wasn't as if he was cold - animal blood made him seem like he had a constant temperature - but he just wanted to wear it. "I certainly don't."
He finally pulled the grey-purple hoody from a bag and pulled it on. He didn't even need any jacket. If it was around twenty degrees or so, sure, he'd need a jacket, but for now, putting on the hoody was purely out of habit. He liked wearing one. Quince pulled up the zipper and let his body nestle in the new, comfortable fabric. It was clean, and not nearly as worn as his old one. The one he'd gotten blood on was dingy, and he'd had it for years. And it was just some hand-me-down at that. It never had really fit him, even to the day. It was probably a large, and he was maybe a medium. Possibly even a small... or, with his lack of weight and height, more than likely a small. Not that he would admit that particularly. If asked, he was a completely average medium, and that was the size hoody he had purchased. Problem was, it showed pretty clearly that the jacket wasn't really sized for him. But a loose hoody was a comfortable one. He was okay with that. For the sake of lying, he could always say that the jacket he'd purchased was a large.
After another moment of considering, and another moment of hesitation, he pulled a second chocolate bar from the bag, peeled down the wrapper, broke off a piece with his fingers, and ate it. Quince sort of wondered whether the idea of eating two was an okay one. He'd eaten chocolate bars before, but two at once was a little risky.
"Anyone thinking that maybe I'm not going to do too good here?" Katlin asked, her voice seemingly distant and foggy in Bree's mind. Her brain was busy analyzing the structures and room of a huge hotel in front of her. Storing images in her mind for quick withdraw, just in case. Bree didn't notice Katlin leaving.
"Hey." She heard a voice, male, from not too far away. Bree spun around instinctively and stared at him blankly. He was a few inches taller than her, had shaggy, dirty blonde hair and mossy green eyes. His clothes were fitted, and looked nice on him. A jolt of pain shot through her head.
"Um... hi." Bree responded, she pressed her temple where a constellation of purple spots scattered.
"Are you lost or something?" His voice was kind, had a little bit of edge to it. Lost... Bree frowned, trying to comprehend the word, its meaning. Her forehead broke out in sweat. She wished Katlin were here- Katlin could talk to people, calm them down. She could calm her down, or even better, talk to this boy so they could move on and not make her head hurt.
"Um..." Bree frowned and held her temples harder. Sometimes pressure made the pain subside. "Y-yes. I think I am."
The boy suddenly broke out into a grin- Bree didn't understand- and wrapped an arm around her. He wasn't like her, Bree hesitantly walked with him. "Hey, it's alright. You look like you just escaped from hell or something." His voice wasn't calming like Katlin's, but it had a definitive, authoritative measure about it that made him seem completely confident in whatever he was saying. Whatever he was doing. He carried himself with dignity.
"I'm Brandon, by the way." He introduced. "Brandon Wallace. You look starving." Bree's stomach churned at the thought of food. He started walking, pushing her away from the hotel. His confidence made her uneasy. Where was Katlin, Dahvie... "Hey," He whispered in her ear. "It's okay, I know your secret. Is anyone else with you?"
Bree went rigid and stared at him. He... he knew? How did he know! How could he? Maybe he was, too? Maybe he escaped? He didn't look that much older than her.
Suddenly, Bree stopped in her tracks. She squeezed her eyes shut as her saliva glands went into high-gear. Her head pounded, creating black and gray spots whenever she tried to look up or at anything.
"Oh, here..." Brandon must have suspected her upcoming sickness. He quickly brought her aside, away from a busier part of the city. Walking made her stomach cramp up and sent jolts of pain from her spine to her head. She didn't make it, depositing a morbid splatter of blood onto the middle of the sidewalk.
"Well... I've never seen that before." He muttered, then yanked up some blades of grass and used his shoe to wipe up her mess and push it into the grass. His black shoes showed no evidence. "Ever." He raised his eyebrows. "But, it's okay, I guess we all get different side effects, right?"
Bree was leaning against a metal railing as the pains started to fade away. Her eyes were still closed, but she caught that word: we. He must be from Darkgrove, too.
"What... did they do to you?" She asked through laborious breaths.
"Nothing special, I managed to escape it all. The hell. And I'm going to help you escape, too." His smile penetrated her, a genuine beam of happiness and joy that she couldn't comprehend. Bree smiled back weakly. "It's not as hard as you think it is. I promise." She felt his had hot on her back, and felt the rippling waves that shook the cells of her body. If getting out of Darkgrove wasn't as hard as she was making it, then boy, would she be happy to hear this good news.
"Do you have any friends you want me to help, as well?" He asked. The waves his hand sent through her were getting annoying, so Bree wiggled out of his hand.
"Yeah. Two, but I don't know where they are right now..."
"Hey." She heard a voice, male, from not too far away. Bree spun around instinctively and stared at him blankly. He was a few inches taller than her, had shaggy, dirty blonde hair and mossy green eyes. His clothes were fitted, and looked nice on him. A jolt of pain shot through her head.
"Um... hi." Bree responded, she pressed her temple where a constellation of purple spots scattered.
"Are you lost or something?" His voice was kind, had a little bit of edge to it. Lost... Bree frowned, trying to comprehend the word, its meaning. Her forehead broke out in sweat. She wished Katlin were here- Katlin could talk to people, calm them down. She could calm her down, or even better, talk to this boy so they could move on and not make her head hurt.
"Um..." Bree frowned and held her temples harder. Sometimes pressure made the pain subside. "Y-yes. I think I am."
The boy suddenly broke out into a grin- Bree didn't understand- and wrapped an arm around her. He wasn't like her, Bree hesitantly walked with him. "Hey, it's alright. You look like you just escaped from hell or something." His voice wasn't calming like Katlin's, but it had a definitive, authoritative measure about it that made him seem completely confident in whatever he was saying. Whatever he was doing. He carried himself with dignity.
"I'm Brandon, by the way." He introduced. "Brandon Wallace. You look starving." Bree's stomach churned at the thought of food. He started walking, pushing her away from the hotel. His confidence made her uneasy. Where was Katlin, Dahvie... "Hey," He whispered in her ear. "It's okay, I know your secret. Is anyone else with you?"
Bree went rigid and stared at him. He... he knew? How did he know! How could he? Maybe he was, too? Maybe he escaped? He didn't look that much older than her.
Suddenly, Bree stopped in her tracks. She squeezed her eyes shut as her saliva glands went into high-gear. Her head pounded, creating black and gray spots whenever she tried to look up or at anything.
"Oh, here..." Brandon must have suspected her upcoming sickness. He quickly brought her aside, away from a busier part of the city. Walking made her stomach cramp up and sent jolts of pain from her spine to her head. She didn't make it, depositing a morbid splatter of blood onto the middle of the sidewalk.
"Well... I've never seen that before." He muttered, then yanked up some blades of grass and used his shoe to wipe up her mess and push it into the grass. His black shoes showed no evidence. "Ever." He raised his eyebrows. "But, it's okay, I guess we all get different side effects, right?"
Bree was leaning against a metal railing as the pains started to fade away. Her eyes were still closed, but she caught that word: we. He must be from Darkgrove, too.
"What... did they do to you?" She asked through laborious breaths.
"Nothing special, I managed to escape it all. The hell. And I'm going to help you escape, too." His smile penetrated her, a genuine beam of happiness and joy that she couldn't comprehend. Bree smiled back weakly. "It's not as hard as you think it is. I promise." She felt his had hot on her back, and felt the rippling waves that shook the cells of her body. If getting out of Darkgrove wasn't as hard as she was making it, then boy, would she be happy to hear this good news.
"Do you have any friends you want me to help, as well?" He asked. The waves his hand sent through her were getting annoying, so Bree wiggled out of his hand.
"Yeah. Two, but I don't know where they are right now..."
Uh huh, Taryn thought. I'm pretty sure that's what dogs think when they go for the chocolate themselves. Still, she didn't feel like saying anything else about the topic to Quince - if he got sick... well, she wouldn't be the one feeling miserable so frankly, it didn't matter all that much to her - and it would be good ammunition. The thought made Taryn smile, though she wasn't sure if it came from the ability to tease Quince or the ability to talk to him with a good excuse.
She watched him for a second, while munching on her own food. He looked at his watch and then then started to frown - Taryn wasn't quite sure what time it was, but since the sun had just set and the train didn't come until 10, they probably had several hours before they had to go. Several hours. Alone. With Quince. With nothing to do.
Oh dear... This is not going to end well, Something in the back of her mind said.
Her thoughts were scattered as Quince spoke again, and she looked up in time to see him pull out a hoody - gray-purple in color - and slip it on deftly. After a moment, Taryn's lips twitched in amusement.
It was obvious to see that the jacket was quite a bit larger than Quince, sagging around him. Though it was probably comfortable, Taryn had to wonder if Quince realized that it made him look ridiculous and even smaller than he actually was. She was about to comment when Quince pulled out another chocolate bar.
Taryn watched as he broke off a piece and ate it, and something a bit cold settled over her. At this rate, Quince was going to get hurt - get sick. The image and the smell of Quince's blood flashed in her mind, and she felt the feeling starting to bubble, turning hot in her stomach. She didn't care about Quince - not in the slightest - but it would be very troublesome if he got sick again - if they missed the train. Her mind jumped on that. If they missed the train, they might not be able to get another one that left at a late enough hour that she would be able to go out.
With that excuse - thought, Taryn corrected. It's a thought, not an excuse - bubbling in her mind, Taryn stepped closer and attempted to snatch the chocolate bar from Quince. "I don't think you should have another, Mr. Hoody-is-too-big-for-me. It's not really healthy, and I don't think that you want to throwup anymore today." She gave him a look. "And I was just having some sweet cravings."
There was a buzzing in the back of her mind telling her to move away before Quince lashed out before he touched her, before she accidentally touched him, and besides she was much too close anyways, so she should just back up either way. Back away. Back away fast, Her inner self whispered.
She was starting to shake very slightly.
She watched him for a second, while munching on her own food. He looked at his watch and then then started to frown - Taryn wasn't quite sure what time it was, but since the sun had just set and the train didn't come until 10, they probably had several hours before they had to go. Several hours. Alone. With Quince. With nothing to do.
Oh dear... This is not going to end well, Something in the back of her mind said.
Her thoughts were scattered as Quince spoke again, and she looked up in time to see him pull out a hoody - gray-purple in color - and slip it on deftly. After a moment, Taryn's lips twitched in amusement.
It was obvious to see that the jacket was quite a bit larger than Quince, sagging around him. Though it was probably comfortable, Taryn had to wonder if Quince realized that it made him look ridiculous and even smaller than he actually was. She was about to comment when Quince pulled out another chocolate bar.
Taryn watched as he broke off a piece and ate it, and something a bit cold settled over her. At this rate, Quince was going to get hurt - get sick. The image and the smell of Quince's blood flashed in her mind, and she felt the feeling starting to bubble, turning hot in her stomach. She didn't care about Quince - not in the slightest - but it would be very troublesome if he got sick again - if they missed the train. Her mind jumped on that. If they missed the train, they might not be able to get another one that left at a late enough hour that she would be able to go out.
With that excuse - thought, Taryn corrected. It's a thought, not an excuse - bubbling in her mind, Taryn stepped closer and attempted to snatch the chocolate bar from Quince. "I don't think you should have another, Mr. Hoody-is-too-big-for-me. It's not really healthy, and I don't think that you want to throwup anymore today." She gave him a look. "And I was just having some sweet cravings."
There was a buzzing in the back of her mind telling her to move away before Quince lashed out before he touched her, before she accidentally touched him, and besides she was much too close anyways, so she should just back up either way. Back away. Back away fast, Her inner self whispered.
She was starting to shake very slightly.
Quince was about to have another piece, when suddenly he saw a hand going for the chocolate bar. The instant reaction was to move the candy away from the hand, but when the hand finally gripped it by it's wrapper, and the candy slid from his grip. The next instant reaction was to get it back.
His hand automatically went to grab Taryn's wrist, most of his hand landing in direct skin-to-skin contact with her. Something from her previous behavioral patterns told Quince that there was a high possibility that she wasn't going to like it. But if she wanted to keep that hand, she would do what he said.
He didn't even care about the chocolate, really. He sort of agreed that he didn't need another, but this wasn't a matter of agreement or disagreement. This was a matter of getting what he wanted, and not being told what to do. There was that selfish, childish personality. He didn't care what the rationale was, he just wanted to make things clear that he wasn't about to listen to her. He just wanted to be in charge. He wanted to be the person being listened to, not the person listening to someone else. Sure, it was just a candy bar, but that didn't matter to him. It was Taryn thinking that she could just take things from him that bothered him.
He gave her a wide-eyed, angered glare, his grip on her wrist tightening slowly, steadily. His grip was unnaturally strong, for a small-sized, far-too-lean boy. But that was because the only weight in his body was muscles, bones, and organs. He just had an unhealthy lack of body fat, and was the type who didn't gain noticeable muscles. He could break her wrist like this, despite appearances.
Quince's look came from below, his face turned downward slightly, wide eyes glaring with their steely gray color. He looked almost scary. But in a way, he looked like an angry child - with an angered pout set into cute features, mad about something simple, and being greedy when he didn't need to.
"Give it back," He ordered sternly, giving her wrist a sudden tug to bring her closer. "I already threw up twice today, whats one more time?! You can just get your own damn chocolate if you want one!"
Quince gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing again and averting from her. His hand continued tightening around her wrist a moment, staring at the ground, until suddenly, he felt - and heard - a light pop in Taryn's wrist. His eyes widened at the sudden jolt back to reality, despite the fact that it wasn't nearly even enough to break a bone, or even fracture. But it was enough that she'd probably get a bruise or two, and need to good wrist role to be sure that everything was lined up.
Regardless of the amount of pain, or lack there of, something told him that he was going to far. Insults were one thing. But pain should only be provoked. And.... she'd done nothing that was serious. Her suggestion could practically be considered...... considerate.
He released her wrist immediately, not looking at her and pushing her away violently. Quince retreated into a slouched position, glaring at the ground as if he were mad at that instead.
"Whatever. Fine. I don't want it anymore." He muttered, eyes narrowing even more. "And for your information, This jacket isn't too big for me. It's loose.... But that's just because they didn't have any mediums, so i got a large." It was a pointless change in subjects, not to mention how full of lies he was today. Of course there had been mediums; he was wearing one right now. There had even been smalls in the store, but he'd completely ignored them. Not to mention that a large would have drowned him. The medium was bad enough.
His hand automatically went to grab Taryn's wrist, most of his hand landing in direct skin-to-skin contact with her. Something from her previous behavioral patterns told Quince that there was a high possibility that she wasn't going to like it. But if she wanted to keep that hand, she would do what he said.
He didn't even care about the chocolate, really. He sort of agreed that he didn't need another, but this wasn't a matter of agreement or disagreement. This was a matter of getting what he wanted, and not being told what to do. There was that selfish, childish personality. He didn't care what the rationale was, he just wanted to make things clear that he wasn't about to listen to her. He just wanted to be in charge. He wanted to be the person being listened to, not the person listening to someone else. Sure, it was just a candy bar, but that didn't matter to him. It was Taryn thinking that she could just take things from him that bothered him.
He gave her a wide-eyed, angered glare, his grip on her wrist tightening slowly, steadily. His grip was unnaturally strong, for a small-sized, far-too-lean boy. But that was because the only weight in his body was muscles, bones, and organs. He just had an unhealthy lack of body fat, and was the type who didn't gain noticeable muscles. He could break her wrist like this, despite appearances.
Quince's look came from below, his face turned downward slightly, wide eyes glaring with their steely gray color. He looked almost scary. But in a way, he looked like an angry child - with an angered pout set into cute features, mad about something simple, and being greedy when he didn't need to.
"Give it back," He ordered sternly, giving her wrist a sudden tug to bring her closer. "I already threw up twice today, whats one more time?! You can just get your own damn chocolate if you want one!"
Quince gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing again and averting from her. His hand continued tightening around her wrist a moment, staring at the ground, until suddenly, he felt - and heard - a light pop in Taryn's wrist. His eyes widened at the sudden jolt back to reality, despite the fact that it wasn't nearly even enough to break a bone, or even fracture. But it was enough that she'd probably get a bruise or two, and need to good wrist role to be sure that everything was lined up.
Regardless of the amount of pain, or lack there of, something told him that he was going to far. Insults were one thing. But pain should only be provoked. And.... she'd done nothing that was serious. Her suggestion could practically be considered...... considerate.
He released her wrist immediately, not looking at her and pushing her away violently. Quince retreated into a slouched position, glaring at the ground as if he were mad at that instead.
"Whatever. Fine. I don't want it anymore." He muttered, eyes narrowing even more. "And for your information, This jacket isn't too big for me. It's loose.... But that's just because they didn't have any mediums, so i got a large." It was a pointless change in subjects, not to mention how full of lies he was today. Of course there had been mediums; he was wearing one right now. There had even been smalls in the store, but he'd completely ignored them. Not to mention that a large would have drowned him. The medium was bad enough.
The prickling pain under Taryn's skin exploded as Quince's hand came in contact with her bare skin - it was like being burnt by ice and fire simultaneously. Her skin erupted into goosebumps, but it was burning - burning so hot that she was almost sure that she would see embers soon. Taryn wasn't quite sure if all the pain was really mental - that's not what her body told her. Her nerves screamed out at her to drop the candy bar, to back away, to leave now while she was still in one piece -
She took a breath, shuddering, shivering - what was she doing? Had she gone insane, to go that near another person? And for what? To help him?
I'm going crazy, Taryn thought. That has to be - what is going on - She gasped and realized, in a dizzying moment that the pain was much realer than she had realized - it was coming from Quince's grip on her wrist - not from the touch, but from the strength. How? She wondered. He was all skin and bones. She had thought that it was only in his wolf form that he was any physical threat to her. But this grip - he's strong. Much stronger than she was - not that that was any surprise. She wasn't a fighter in any sense of the word but - still. It was disturbing
"Give it back," He snapped. He tugged her closer as he kept talking, but the rest of the words were lost on Taryn as the heat of another body and the force of someone much stronger than her started to overwhelm Taryn's boundaries.
It had been more than enough just to get close. Staying close, being pulled closer, and dealing with actual, physical pain was starting to intrude on Taryn's ability to think. She swallowed, senses starting to overload -
Quince let her go.
Taryn stumbled back, both from the suddenness of the motion and from the push he gave her. Her vision was still blinded, but now it slowly started to clear, and she blinked, bringing Quince back into focus. Why had he let her go? A bit of wetness made her reach up - a tear had just rolled down her cheek. Was that why? But - no, Quince was looking at the ground. He couldn't have seen that she was crying. So why had he let her go?
She took a step back and looked down. The chocolate was - amazingly - still in her hand. She shakily tried to unwrap it and broke a piece off. Her movements were very mechanical, as if some inner part of Taryn was telling her what to do, what to think while most of her hibernated in peace and fear. She lifted the chocolate to her mouth.
The taste started out sweet on her mouth, but gradually turned bitter and then salty as the tears kept falling down Taryn's face. It felt like she was just slowly breaking down, almost as if she was a robot that had been programmed wrong. She let her hand drop to her side and swallowed the chocolate. There wasn't even enough energy in her hand to make her wipe the tears away - it wouldn't matter anyways. They just kept coming.
As Quince finished his muttering, Taryn sniffed, and then immediately regretted it. The noise was sure to draw Quince's attention to her, and she didn't want him to see her tears - no one should see them. She turned around as fast as she could, suppressing another sniff as she retreated back to her tree.
Her wrist was starting to ache.
She took a breath, shuddering, shivering - what was she doing? Had she gone insane, to go that near another person? And for what? To help him?
I'm going crazy, Taryn thought. That has to be - what is going on - She gasped and realized, in a dizzying moment that the pain was much realer than she had realized - it was coming from Quince's grip on her wrist - not from the touch, but from the strength. How? She wondered. He was all skin and bones. She had thought that it was only in his wolf form that he was any physical threat to her. But this grip - he's strong. Much stronger than she was - not that that was any surprise. She wasn't a fighter in any sense of the word but - still. It was disturbing
"Give it back," He snapped. He tugged her closer as he kept talking, but the rest of the words were lost on Taryn as the heat of another body and the force of someone much stronger than her started to overwhelm Taryn's boundaries.
It had been more than enough just to get close. Staying close, being pulled closer, and dealing with actual, physical pain was starting to intrude on Taryn's ability to think. She swallowed, senses starting to overload -
Quince let her go.
Taryn stumbled back, both from the suddenness of the motion and from the push he gave her. Her vision was still blinded, but now it slowly started to clear, and she blinked, bringing Quince back into focus. Why had he let her go? A bit of wetness made her reach up - a tear had just rolled down her cheek. Was that why? But - no, Quince was looking at the ground. He couldn't have seen that she was crying. So why had he let her go?
She took a step back and looked down. The chocolate was - amazingly - still in her hand. She shakily tried to unwrap it and broke a piece off. Her movements were very mechanical, as if some inner part of Taryn was telling her what to do, what to think while most of her hibernated in peace and fear. She lifted the chocolate to her mouth.
The taste started out sweet on her mouth, but gradually turned bitter and then salty as the tears kept falling down Taryn's face. It felt like she was just slowly breaking down, almost as if she was a robot that had been programmed wrong. She let her hand drop to her side and swallowed the chocolate. There wasn't even enough energy in her hand to make her wipe the tears away - it wouldn't matter anyways. They just kept coming.
As Quince finished his muttering, Taryn sniffed, and then immediately regretted it. The noise was sure to draw Quince's attention to her, and she didn't want him to see her tears - no one should see them. She turned around as fast as she could, suppressing another sniff as she retreated back to her tree.
Her wrist was starting to ache.
Quince stayed in his slumped position a good few moments, until he heard a small sniffle from Taryn. This would have normally been something he would ignore, but it was already clear from the past events of the day that his behavior was a bit off today. Ha, a bit? There's the understatement of the day.
He watched Taryn turn away before he could get a glance at whether she was crying or not, but all signs pointed to yes. He could tell just from body language, the hint from the sniffs, and just a bit of that animal intuition. She seemed so pathetic and sad and..... Quince almost felt bad.
"Taryn, I'm-"
His jaw hung open a minute, his mouth about to form the next word, but every piece of sanity he had left holding it in. He mechanically clenched his jaw down, stopping that 'sorry' from bothering to come out, and wondering why it almost had in the first place. Who's to say she didn't deserve it? Well, at least he could make her believe that she deserved it. Maybe at that point, Taryn would realize that she should keep even more of a distance. She was obviously getting comfortable, and Quince couldn't have that. Sure, the sorry had been stopped, but he had to do a little extra to cover up that concerned tone he let slip.
Quince stood, coming up behind her, but keeping a distance of a few feet.
"Suck it up, will you?" He said, bringing out a cruel tone. "You're such a weakling. Be happy i didn't break that hand off. And if you do want to keep that hand, then i suggest you don't go to take anything from me again. In fact, maybe it would be better to keep all limbs away from me constantly, understand, Deary?"
He put his hands in the pockets of his new hoody, backing up a few more feet from her. Impulse was giving him what scientists had described as a 'partial-shift', his throat emitting a low growl, the flesh around his eyes blackening. There were several stages to his shifting, and this was just the second one. The first one had been something he was born into, as his natural human form wasn't exactly 100% human... There had been a few years trying to get him to a full range from perfectly human to perfectly wolf, but all they'd done was manage to get him stuck in a few different part-way stages. The first stage was just a little issue about his canine teeth being longer, narrower, and sharper than average. But it was slight, and people didn't really notice it that much.
Quince would have described his sudden emotional part-way shift as anger at Taryn for being a wimp, for doing things he didn't like. Maybe he was even just mad at Taryn for simply being Taryn. But he knew in the back of his mind somewhere that he was mainly mad at himself. And the thing was, he wasn't quite sure what the reason was. Maybe it was the same reason he'd been mad at himself earlier, only now with the addition of what he'd done to Taryn. But he wasn't about to admit - even to himself - that it was more himself that he wanted to pound the crap out of. He could leave that part out.
"So just back off, mind your own damn business, and let me eat whatever the hell i damn-well-please," He continued, his voice getting a little loud, a little more in the form of orders. "If you can't understand that, you're even more stupid than I am!"
He wasn't sure why he'd added in the point of calling himself stupid, but it was self explanatory that he did it because he was stupid. Obviously. But at least he was getting his point across. He figured he'd made up for his almost-apology. He'd gone far enough. Quince backed up the rest of the way, until he was back against the tree he had originally been sitting up against. His light growling didn't stop, the darkness around his eyes didn't recede. The small changes made him look more animal, and with his anger - directed at himself or Taryn - gave him the slightest look of being scary. It was too bad for him that he still had his cute features and too-big sweatshirt. Otherwise he might of looked intimidating. Too bad.
He watched Taryn turn away before he could get a glance at whether she was crying or not, but all signs pointed to yes. He could tell just from body language, the hint from the sniffs, and just a bit of that animal intuition. She seemed so pathetic and sad and..... Quince almost felt bad.
"Taryn, I'm-"
His jaw hung open a minute, his mouth about to form the next word, but every piece of sanity he had left holding it in. He mechanically clenched his jaw down, stopping that 'sorry' from bothering to come out, and wondering why it almost had in the first place. Who's to say she didn't deserve it? Well, at least he could make her believe that she deserved it. Maybe at that point, Taryn would realize that she should keep even more of a distance. She was obviously getting comfortable, and Quince couldn't have that. Sure, the sorry had been stopped, but he had to do a little extra to cover up that concerned tone he let slip.
Quince stood, coming up behind her, but keeping a distance of a few feet.
"Suck it up, will you?" He said, bringing out a cruel tone. "You're such a weakling. Be happy i didn't break that hand off. And if you do want to keep that hand, then i suggest you don't go to take anything from me again. In fact, maybe it would be better to keep all limbs away from me constantly, understand, Deary?"
He put his hands in the pockets of his new hoody, backing up a few more feet from her. Impulse was giving him what scientists had described as a 'partial-shift', his throat emitting a low growl, the flesh around his eyes blackening. There were several stages to his shifting, and this was just the second one. The first one had been something he was born into, as his natural human form wasn't exactly 100% human... There had been a few years trying to get him to a full range from perfectly human to perfectly wolf, but all they'd done was manage to get him stuck in a few different part-way stages. The first stage was just a little issue about his canine teeth being longer, narrower, and sharper than average. But it was slight, and people didn't really notice it that much.
Quince would have described his sudden emotional part-way shift as anger at Taryn for being a wimp, for doing things he didn't like. Maybe he was even just mad at Taryn for simply being Taryn. But he knew in the back of his mind somewhere that he was mainly mad at himself. And the thing was, he wasn't quite sure what the reason was. Maybe it was the same reason he'd been mad at himself earlier, only now with the addition of what he'd done to Taryn. But he wasn't about to admit - even to himself - that it was more himself that he wanted to pound the crap out of. He could leave that part out.
"So just back off, mind your own damn business, and let me eat whatever the hell i damn-well-please," He continued, his voice getting a little loud, a little more in the form of orders. "If you can't understand that, you're even more stupid than I am!"
He wasn't sure why he'd added in the point of calling himself stupid, but it was self explanatory that he did it because he was stupid. Obviously. But at least he was getting his point across. He figured he'd made up for his almost-apology. He'd gone far enough. Quince backed up the rest of the way, until he was back against the tree he had originally been sitting up against. His light growling didn't stop, the darkness around his eyes didn't recede. The small changes made him look more animal, and with his anger - directed at himself or Taryn - gave him the slightest look of being scary. It was too bad for him that he still had his cute features and too-big sweatshirt. Otherwise he might of looked intimidating. Too bad.
Setting
0.00 INK
Dahvie watched Kaitlyn go with large eyes. She was right. Even in the gathering dusk, her hair stuck out like neon paint in a ultraviolet room. He nodded then turned around to look for Bree, but she was gone. He felt panick well up inside him.
"Bree? Where'd you go?" though it came out as more of a whisper choke. He began to move, his head whipping from side to side. Checking to see if Kaitlyn was still on the roof he hugged the wall and began to slither along, peeking over corners, as if not to be seen. If Bree had been taken, he didn't want to be as well. But as he looked around the next edge he saw her talking to someone, though he was still wary. He moved out of the shadows and walked towards her.
"Bree," He spoke in a slightly nervous tone as their breif split up. Dahvie hated being left alone. "Kaitlyn went to fix her hair... We should find some food..." He looked at the boy she was with, sizing him up before he felt himself shrink back. He didn't like strangers, and personally, he liked their threesome... he didn't want anyone else to join them. It would mean more talk, more noise, more explanation of Quince and more people to worry about. He wondered if Quince hurt them, would he fight against his own flesh and blood to help them? It puzzled him. Pushing his ebony hair out of those curious hazel eyes he flickered back to Bree.
"Who's this?" he asked in a very small voice. Being socially awkward had many disadvantages. Even in this small town, the presence of people loomed over him, and Dahvie didn't like that. He felt cornered almost, like an ally cat, trapped. He felt the odd urge to let out a hiss and drop to all fours, but he knew it had nothing to do with his mutation. Years of spending time alone with only his cat for company had made him understand her, made him feel her pain, know her brain. They could comunicate... yes Dahvie had taught himself that much...
So in this way, the feral instinct was burried, and he didn't like the thought of more people, a crowd. Not one bit.
"Bree? Where'd you go?" though it came out as more of a whisper choke. He began to move, his head whipping from side to side. Checking to see if Kaitlyn was still on the roof he hugged the wall and began to slither along, peeking over corners, as if not to be seen. If Bree had been taken, he didn't want to be as well. But as he looked around the next edge he saw her talking to someone, though he was still wary. He moved out of the shadows and walked towards her.
"Bree," He spoke in a slightly nervous tone as their breif split up. Dahvie hated being left alone. "Kaitlyn went to fix her hair... We should find some food..." He looked at the boy she was with, sizing him up before he felt himself shrink back. He didn't like strangers, and personally, he liked their threesome... he didn't want anyone else to join them. It would mean more talk, more noise, more explanation of Quince and more people to worry about. He wondered if Quince hurt them, would he fight against his own flesh and blood to help them? It puzzled him. Pushing his ebony hair out of those curious hazel eyes he flickered back to Bree.
"Who's this?" he asked in a very small voice. Being socially awkward had many disadvantages. Even in this small town, the presence of people loomed over him, and Dahvie didn't like that. He felt cornered almost, like an ally cat, trapped. He felt the odd urge to let out a hiss and drop to all fours, but he knew it had nothing to do with his mutation. Years of spending time alone with only his cat for company had made him understand her, made him feel her pain, know her brain. They could comunicate... yes Dahvie had taught himself that much...
So in this way, the feral instinct was burried, and he didn't like the thought of more people, a crowd. Not one bit.
Setting
0.00 INK
Katlin
Finally, I decided to slip into a house with no car in the driveway and no lights on at all. I quietly squirmed down through the chimney. It was kept relatively clean, surprisingly enough. The owners must not have been gone for too long. I creep around in the house, trying to find a bedroom. I succeed, and almost stub my toe. I hadn't been careful when turning the corner, though I could see things clearly because of my night vision.
I dig through the closet, trying not to displace things. Let's see, what would I want? A hat, maybe? Yes, definitely a hat. I find a black beret and push all my hair into it, tying a poufy scarf around my neck to hide more of my hair. There. I couldn't see much of the practically glowing bluish violet color.
But going up the chimney is out of the question. I open a window and climb through, shutting it on my way out. I may be a thief, but that doesn't mean I don't have a conscience. I start moving on top of the roofs again, and find Bree and Dahvie talking with a stranger, not at all where we started. Who...?
I quickly slipped down and turned a corner to face them.
"Who are you talking to?" My voice was as uncaring as I culd make it.
Finally, I decided to slip into a house with no car in the driveway and no lights on at all. I quietly squirmed down through the chimney. It was kept relatively clean, surprisingly enough. The owners must not have been gone for too long. I creep around in the house, trying to find a bedroom. I succeed, and almost stub my toe. I hadn't been careful when turning the corner, though I could see things clearly because of my night vision.
I dig through the closet, trying not to displace things. Let's see, what would I want? A hat, maybe? Yes, definitely a hat. I find a black beret and push all my hair into it, tying a poufy scarf around my neck to hide more of my hair. There. I couldn't see much of the practically glowing bluish violet color.
But going up the chimney is out of the question. I open a window and climb through, shutting it on my way out. I may be a thief, but that doesn't mean I don't have a conscience. I start moving on top of the roofs again, and find Bree and Dahvie talking with a stranger, not at all where we started. Who...?
I quickly slipped down and turned a corner to face them.
"Who are you talking to?" My voice was as uncaring as I culd make it.
- 94 posts here • Page 4 of 4 • 1, 2, 3, 4
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View All » Add Character » 14 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Nyx Deveron
"Hehe, want to play a game~?"
Alice Carlton
Trying to understand me is just half the battle...
Bree Amnell
I'll figure it out... I have to.
Taryn Chrin
"Touch me and you die. Any questions?"
Dahvie Blackthorn-Daimon
"Pretend your a ghost. Disappear. Keep your head down..."
Katlin
"I'm unique. Just like every other person in the world. Never mind, that doesn't help me at all."
Quince Daimon
"I'm just trying to survive. What are you doing?"
Adrien
"Jumping into this without thinking just might be the iceberg that sinks our titanic, here."
Trending
Bree Amnell
I'll figure it out... I have to.
Quince Daimon
"I'm just trying to survive. What are you doing?"
Dahvie Blackthorn-Daimon
"Pretend your a ghost. Disappear. Keep your head down..."
Alice Carlton
Trying to understand me is just half the battle...
Adrien
"Jumping into this without thinking just might be the iceberg that sinks our titanic, here."
Katlin
"I'm unique. Just like every other person in the world. Never mind, that doesn't help me at all."
Taryn Chrin
"Touch me and you die. Any questions?"
Nyx Deveron
"Hehe, want to play a game~?"
Most Followed
Dahvie Blackthorn-Daimon
"Pretend your a ghost. Disappear. Keep your head down..."
Adrien
"Jumping into this without thinking just might be the iceberg that sinks our titanic, here."
Katlin
"I'm unique. Just like every other person in the world. Never mind, that doesn't help me at all."
Quince Daimon
"I'm just trying to survive. What are you doing?"
Bree Amnell
I'll figure it out... I have to.
Nyx Deveron
"Hehe, want to play a game~?"
Taryn Chrin
"Touch me and you die. Any questions?"
Alice Carlton
Trying to understand me is just half the battle...
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Anywhere But Home...: Out of Character
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Anywhere But Home...
1, 2, 3by Ashes-6695 on Wed Dec 28, 2011 4:41 pm
- 57 Replies
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- Last post by Ashes-6695
on Tue Mar 20, 2012 3:04 pm
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Anywhere But Home...
Most recent OOC posts in Anywhere But Home...
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
I understand. I'm so sorry to see you go, Esana! I really loved talking to you and such.
I hope to role play with you again when you come back.
I'll miss you v_v
I hope to role play with you again when you come back.
I'll miss you v_v
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
...And here I am...I'm so sorry, Ashes, everyone, but I have to leave RPG for a time (I don't know how long) to deal with real life. I...Well, this was a LOT of fun for this (love you Ashes ~), but unfortunately, I have to go.
I'm really, really sorry.
Good-bye.
~ Esa
I'm really, really sorry.
Good-bye.
~ Esa
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
@BellatrighxSlander, It's cool, I'm glad to know you're back, though~!
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
I should be able to post sometime very soon. I just caught up on reading all the rp, so I know whats going on. I'm sorry I'm so inactive. I totally love this rp.
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
Sorry I'm taking so long to post, guys. It's been hectic and, man, I'm really hoping I'll have time this weekend. I'm not sure I can promise anything until about tomorrow... I'm so sorry.
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
I'm still here! Just waiting on Ashes to pm me back about a potential plot idea before I post. (I don't think I could write anything worth reading at the moment, lol.)
*EDIT: YAYSIES! I'll get to posting this afternoon/morning. I should be hacking away at some projects I have coming up, but I'm sick. -.-' such is the curse of living with little kids. Besides, I have all weekend to do projects!
*EDIT: YAYSIES! I'll get to posting this afternoon/morning. I should be hacking away at some projects I have coming up, but I'm sick. -.-' such is the curse of living with little kids. Besides, I have all weekend to do projects!
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
@crazybizzy, Just hang on a little bit, okay? We might still be able to let her in as a retriever ^-^
I would have done this sooner, i've just been doing a lot of work these past few days (maybe past weeks....)
I would have done this sooner, i've just been doing a lot of work these past few days (maybe past weeks....)
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
Alyx, mildly confused. When you say Quince, do you mean Dahvie? o.o
~ Esa
~ Esa
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
Stalking this roleplay because it's caught my interest - I still would love to join, so I don't mind switching some details around to change the retriever I entered into a runner.
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
Lol. I'm weeping tears at your return. ^ - ^ Get ready to get stalked across the country.
~ Esa
~ Esa
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
Okay I am back and I am rearing to go! Tomorrow I will be making my come back post. :'D >.< stop crying fools! ;D
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
@abalyth, Oh, it's modern time period. Only Darkgrove is the part of the role play where things get a little advanced technologically.
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
Uh...I've been assuming that it's modern. Can you confirm Ashes? o.o
~ Esa
~ Esa
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
Alright, so I want to post and I"m going to, I just have to know, what's the timeline setting of this role play? Is it modern? medieval ish or sci fi or... what?
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
@Bellatrighx, Oh, yeah, no problem, thanks for letting me know! I hope you get (what would be the word for this?) UN-grounded soon ^-^; heh heh hehhh.....
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
Haven't figured out the placement weirdness yet, and seeing that Bella's grounded and Kat hasn't responded, I think I'm just going to integrate a fix into my next post- I really hate being caught up in stupid stuff like that. (this evening! Because I have a writing bug!!)
Bella, don't sneak on, that will just make things worse if you're caught. Unless you're positive you won't, then by all means, do so :3 We can wait.
Bella, don't sneak on, that will just make things worse if you're caught. Unless you're positive you won't, then by all means, do so :3 We can wait.
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
I'm sorry guys, I'm grounded, I'm sneaking on, but as soon as I get my laptop I swear I will post D;
I really do love this rp, I just can't get on right now
I really do love this rp, I just can't get on right now
Re: [OOC] Anywhere But Home...
@Esa, I messaged Darkune. He was having trouble with coming up with what to do for his restart post, and even i was having trouble coming up with a solution. We should be good now, i think.