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Private finding you again ••
Posted 05-28-2018, 05:10 PM |
Barbados
Rogue
Male, 6.75
Endomorph
37 in, 135 lbs
149 ep
© hobs


Oh there we were;
the sun hit the starboard,
And we were as free
as we could be.
We waited for land;
oh we waited for thee
We aimed to stay calm and cool,
But that sea was just a gambling fool
Rage had settled all around the mountainous region. Howling winds like a song of reckoning in one's ears, the piercing cold persistent enough to help all living creatures forget what it was once like to be warm, and the danger of treacherous passes in the night drive a lonely, bone-white creature into a deep crevice to wait out the blizzard. Home held no meaning for the loner this night; the notion so far away from him that he could barely grasp the concept of it once being there at all. An ache had hollowed out more than a few holes in his heart, as though it were acid. Each name, each face, just another reminder that Barbados had found himself losing those he loved; one by one by one.

Those months spent with Solomon and Julian when he was a young adult echoed across time and space. The curse of treachery, the memories of loss and betrayal and foolish optimism....all of it was filling him up with an old bitterness for fate's cruel strings. They were multiple strands tied together, knotted firmly in place, secure and seemingly unbreakable, until one by precious one they had been snipped; leaving him lonely and destitute. why teach my heart to love if only to take everything from me after? what game could heaven be playing if this was to be his lot in life? He had lived an adult life where nothing was certain but he had believed he'd be able to keep it anyway.

or at least die before I outlived them...

Now his sons and daughters were gone, two women that he loved dead or missing. Laurel...Eliza...he'd tried to abandon the memory of them, had aimed to tear them viciously from him; a callous indifference refusing to settle. He couldn't. He just...couldn't. And that is what found him trapped here in the back of a frigid crevice: his inability to let go. it wasn't that sleep found him willing that made his mind stop racing for a desperate few hours, but surprise. A terrible, terrible surprise.

A GASP FOR BREATH TEARS BARBADOS FROM THE DREAM. THE NIGHT LAY ALL AROUND HIM LIKE A VICE; TOO LATE FOR THE CACOPHONY OF INSECTS THE SPRING ALWAYS BROUGHT, BUT TOO EARLY FOR THE AWFUL, STILL HOURS JUST BEFORE DAWN. THE PHANTOM SCENT OF THE SEA STILL LINGERS, THE WARMTH OF HER IN HIS EMBRACE SEEPING AWAY, AS HE TRIES TO BREATHE AROUND THE MEMORY OF LAUREL. A CURSE HISSES THROUGH HIS TEETH AS HE LURCHES TO HIS PAWS, DEBRIS CLINGING TO HIS FUR ON THE ONE SIDE BEFORE HE SHAKES IT FREE AND BLINKS A FEW TIMES; ACCLIMATING TO WAKEFULNESS WITH THE FRUSTRATION. His eyes sought the opening to his shelter and he found impatience forming in his gut. Snow was still blowing outside, trapping him for who knew how long, but the intensity seemed to have lessened. Wakefulness kept his heart hammering, sorrow leeching him of his determination. THIS HAD BEEN HAPPENING MORE AND MORE THESE DAYS. HIS ALL OR NOTHING SEARCH FOR ELIZA HAD TURNED UP THE LATTER, AND HE'D BEEN DISGUSTED TO FIND THAT HIS SORROW WAS SO SHORT LIVED. UNSURE OF WHETHER HE HAD ALREADY MOURNED HER IN DOUTAINI WITH HIS VIGILS AND HIS WAITING OR IF HE TRULY HADN'T FELT FOR HER AS DEEPLY AS HE THOUGHT, BARBADOS HAD ANGRILY ROAMED THE LANDS BEYOND DOUTAINI. THE ANSWER TO SUCH DOUBTS CAME FLEETINGLY WHEN HE THOUGHT OF THEIR CHILDREN TOGETHER, AND HOW SHE LOOKED AND BEHAVED THAT DAY ON THE BEACH WITH THEM. BARBADOS KNEW THEN THAT HE HAD LOVED HER. PERHAPS NOT AS DESPERATELY AS HE HAD LOVED LAUREL, BUT JUST AS TRULY. WHAT LEFT HIM NUMB WAS NOT KNOWING, WAS NOT GETTING TO TELL HER, WAS THE REGRET OF THEIR TIME TOGETHER BEING ROBBED BY CIRCUMSTANCE.

AFTER HAVING THAT SHORT CONVERSATION WITH CHARLOTTE THAT NIGHT BENEATH THE STARS, AND WITH THE PROMISE OF SOMETHING GROWING BETWEEN THEM, OR SO HE THOUGHT, IT WAS ONLY NATURAL THAT HE CONSIDER LAYING TO REST THE GHOSTS THAT CLUTTERED HIS MIND AND HEART. DETERMINEDLY, HE SOUGHT TO MAKE HIMSELF NEW, TO COME BACK A BIT LIGHTER IN BODY AND SOUL, BUT THE ROAD HAD DONE NOTHING BUT CHISEL HIM. STRONGER THAN HE HAD BEEN IN MONTHS, THE WOLF RETURNED WITHOUT PEACE, WITHOUT CLOSURE, AND HAD ADDED SUCH VIVID DREAMS OF HIS LATE WIFE TO THE ARSENAL THAT WAS HIS MELANCHOLY, THAT HE APPEARED MORE LIKE THE WARRING PIRATE HE HAD BEEN BEFORE MARRIAGE HAD SOFTENED HIM UP THAN EVER BEFORE. HE hadn't planned to seek Charlotte out. feeling slightly embarrassed, though grateful for her insight that night at the stardust festival, he'd had it in his mind to simply see her around casually. But AS HE LOOKED OUT OVER THE LAND HE'D HAVE TO TRAVEL in order to get to any of the lands he might force himself to settle down in, A HEAVINESS THAT SETTLED LIKE GRIEF IN THE BACK OF HIS THROAT, OVERCAME HIM AND HE'D MADE A DECISION.

EVEN NOW AS HE GRAPPLED WITH THE STARK MEMORY OF HIS WIFE, THE DISAPPOINTMENT IN BEING UNABLE TO FIND ELIZA and their children, or any of his children for that matter, THE NASCENT LONGING HE'D FELT FOR CHARLOTTE'S COMPANY AND THE HOPE OF SEEING VERONA and praelia ONCE MORE CRASHED INTO HIS CLUTTERED HEART, AND HE FELT CONVICTION SETTLING IN HIS BONES. BARBADOS MARX, OF THE MOUNTAINS AND THE SEA. PERHAPS HE TRULY HAD BEEN LIVING IN THE SANDY SHORES and the road for TOO LONG.

I can't lose anymore of what I hold dear. he'd lived too long to throw it away, and Charlotte knew the price of that; she knew what it was like. THE NOTION OF OUTLIVING HIS LIFE HUNG ODDLY IN THE BACK OF HIS MIND. YOU'RE LIKE A GHOST TO THE CLAN...OUTLIVING WHAT LIFE YOU WERE DESTINED FOR... HE KNEW IT IN HIS BONES LIKE HE KNEW THE TIDE: HE WOULD BE DEAD NOW if he'd stayed; if he'd lived the life that had been destined to him by blood. BY ACCIDENT OR WAR OR FLUKE HIS LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN CLAIMED AND HE WOULD NOT HAVE LIVED TO THIS RIPE AGE. HIS GRIZZLED AND WORLD WARY FIGURE sat STARK AGAINST THE NIGHT AND THE LAND THAT IMPRINTED ITSELF ON HIS SOUL WITH FIRE AND BRIMSTONE. In the shadows, he seemed a ghoul; highlighted by fur and flashing eyes alone. He'd have to make his way to her eventually, he'd have to leave this cave he'd found himself in, blizzard be damned.

And so, setting out against the fierce winds and biting snow, Barbados eyed the dangerous curve of the mountain pass, set his paws firmly into the snow, a slow pace, his shoulder brushing the stone wall to his right, he headed out; determined to find her, to join her, to be amongst those left that he cared for.

""

lyrics from gregory alan isakov's 'that gambler the sea'
Charlotte - some of this is recycled since the mood is much the same and the history too. DO NOT feel the need to mirror lol he's basically just searching for the rebel border in the last dregs of a blizzard haha



[ Reply ]






Posted 05-31-2018, 06:17 PM |
Rebel
Charlotte
Rebel Alpha
Female, 6.50
Ectomorph
40 in, 100 lbs
519 ep
© Lou
When she set out in the early morning, the world had been washed out in dark teals and shadows of possibilities. Blanketed in thick snow, a guard softened for paws that had trekked across rocks for far too long. It had been quiet, dark, though the soaring ears and mechanical senses had felt something awry on the horizon- as usual; she'd ignored it. The winding mountain gullies were one of her favorites no matter the season, she had made the trip twice a week since her second birthday, it had been one of the many introductions to rebel lifestyle she could remember. It had taken that lanky teenager and transformed her into the mirthful beast she was today, no warning, no preparation, it was as if one day she simply awoke to the sturdier frame and a blood lust to boot. Without Rebel, she knew she would have passed at a much younger age, to full of fire and attitude, another wolf would have shot her down years ago. But here she stood at the top of the world and watched each day draw to a close as if she permitted it to do so, stronger than most, but perhaps just as much of her was broken. ruined. She'd made it as far as the styx before the clouds above rolled over with malice, full of icicles ready to fall and drape across their red lands for a second time that day. From the west, a wind had begun to twirl, lifting her thick mane of fur about her neck upwards in tufts like damp feathers.

By the time she'd turned around, the blizzard was at full force.

She felt old, tired, but in reality she was in the prime of her rebellious life. Strong, with senses higher than any ordinary wolf, she could make her way through the storm easily, though a lot slower than her starting journey. Her neck was curved, her head thrown downwards to protect those viper eyes from the whipping icicles. Her body rigid, irritated that she'd once again ignored the warning signs of a storm and set off on her routine anyway. Some would call it karma, she didn't really care for it, instead; she braces herself against the onslaught of chill and pushes through. It's the howling wind and nostrils full of snow that has her missing a particular scent she had grown so accustomed too over the years, an old friend, a dear one. Instead, it is his hulking mass that she catches by accident of shaking free snow from her head, the white form of his hunched shoulders, even from how far she stood from him- she knew. Barbados Marx. Returned once again from his adventures, though she had an inkling deep down what it was he was actually up to, he had lost just as much as she had, she just busied herself with other responsibilities, instead of chasing the past.

Still, the stupid brute would probably die out here without her, so she skates her way down the mountain ledges until she can find equal ground, slower than she would have usually taken to descend, but she catches him eventually. She lets him wander a few feet further, around another bend where she knew there would be a cave large enough to relieve them both from the cold for a while. It is as he gets closer to it that she takes charge, large paws sinking into the snow as she bursts forwards into a run- straight for him. Stealth wasn't really something she could use in this climate but she was positive he wouldn't hear her anyway, either way; she flings her body forwards and right for him, an attempt to sweep him off his feet and throw both of them into the cave beside him. If they'd connected, she'd no doubt go sprawling into the opening and onto her side like a bag of potatos thrown from a cliff, but with the grace of a spider- of course. She'd gather herself quickly though, spinning to face him wherever or however he may have landed, her bulk and height exagerrated in the tightly, moulded cave, scars that trickle across her body like paths of water, and of course; that dusting of snow that sticks to the dark of her fur.

"Barbados bloody Marx," she drawls, lifting her head to pierce him with acidic eyes, that iconic smirk lifting one side of her lips to reveal the yellowing fang beneath it- "what the fuck, are you doin' out here?"

Barbados <3

Charlotte is riddled with scars from head to toe, the right side of her face is bare of fur, and both her ears are in tatters at the tips.



[ Reply ]






Posted 05-31-2018, 08:01 PM | This post was last modified: 05-31-2018, 08:02 PM by Barbados
Barbados
Rogue
Male, 6.75
Endomorph
37 in, 135 lbs
149 ep
© hobs


Oh there we were;
the sun hit the starboard,
And we were as free
as we could be.
We waited for land;
oh we waited for thee
We aimed to stay calm and cool,
But that sea was just a gambling fool
The snow whipped into him, his black pearl eye glaring at the drifts beneath his paws, as he carried on. The dangerous curve of the mountain pass, while widening a bit, gave him the explicit notion of quite literally walking on the edge between life and death. like the past and the future... he'd always found himself in liminal spaces of time, never settled for very long, never getting to hold onto a time and place contentedly. Peace was a farce, the simple life a pipe dream. And yet, there was the idea of it on the horizon; a blizzard between him and his goal like a wall. There was so much that was new about this area of the territory because of Akako's fiery tirade, and, much like grief or pain or old scars, those changes lay hidden beneath the formidable accents of winter; cold, bitter, dangerously vague. Battered by the fierce, cold winds, Barbados had no way of knowing what was about to greet him. A shadow produces itself to his right, the stone against his shoulder slips away. There's the temptation to stop and investigate it, to find shelter again, as it seems this idea of his to trudge onward was as terrible an idea as anyone could have. But before he can identify the cave for what it is, Barbados finds himself blindsided.

literally.

A growl, rough and garbled by surprise, is punched from his lungs upon impact. There was no way for him to see her coming out of his blind, left eye, and so Barb finds himself knocked, unceremoniously, to the ground; body tripping before his right shoulder hits the dusty cave floor and he slides to a stop. Dazed, sore from his night spent shoved into that crevice, it takes him a second or two more for him to react than it does Charlotte. Barbados launches himself to his paws, toes splayed and gripping the stone floor, his ears flipped back, head dipped down before his throat, his body taut and alive with the prospect of defending himself and giving whoever the hell collided into him a piece of his mind; a mountain of well-honed muscle and fierce determination. His teeth are bared to the shadow before him, and his hackles flare as though electrified. But a moment later, her scent catches up to him, fills the frigid air, and the violence in his good eye vanishes. his mouth drops open just a little to give him an expression of awe. He almost doesn't hear her, brain short-circuiting as he stares. He blinks, the whiteout of the storm taking him a few seconds for his sight to adjust to the darkness of the cave.

"Charlotte?" Disbelief mixes heavily with indignation at this unbelievable turn of events. His eye drifts across her face, taking her in, noting a few more scars that have been added to her body. He doesn't return the smirk, his brain still not having caught up to his personality. But his continued silence, the heavy pant of his breath against the adrenaline humming through him, is enough to hint at his mental state; at the sheer surprise and relief of seeing her here in all this. congratulations, you've managed to strike Barbie Marx dumb. Cheers and applause. He takes a step forward, his eye skirting to the smirk on her lips, the dancing quality of her acidic gaze, and shakes his head; a slight smirk of his own finally drawing his dark lips up on one side. She asked you a question, barb... right. "Me?" As if he could recover from his blatant staring with an impressively innocent and blase attitude, he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Obviously, I'm here to be tackled by a lovely rebel commander," He winks, his gaze full of mischief that he conveniently throws up to deter her from seeing the overwhelming excitement that rushes through him. she's still here. she's still here. she found you. "Seems I've succeeded." The smirk stays until he finds that, in her presence, a sense of calm has suddenly washed over him; a thing of certainty and familiarity. He fills his lungs with a deep breath, appreciating the moment as he takes another step forward; hesitant to be too close lest he give himself away. "You look good." A soft smile is all he can offer her, the sound of the howling winds against the mouth of the cave drowning out the pounding of his heart as he looks her over again; like he can't quite believe she's snuck up on him again. Though it certainly shouldn't surprise him at this point.

""

lyrics from gregory alan isakov's 'that gambler the sea'
Charlotte x]



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