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OVER AND OVER AND OVER — octane - Printable Version

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+---- Thread: OVER AND OVER AND OVER — octane (/showthread.php?tid=11825)



OVER AND OVER AND OVER — octane - MYERS - 05-02-2020

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]If there was anything Ahab wished to avoid right now, it was a moment to himself. With his grandson missing and panic in the air, wounds to tend and work to be done, for once in his life he felt a sense of purpose, if not a twinge of existential dread. His responsibilities felt many. Trygve was without a home, out in the wild. Brandykit, Eulia were both injured. He'd snapped and lashed out at the ones he loved, and there was nothing he could possibly do but apologize in words and hope the rest of his guilt could be conveyed by gesture. He did not want to be alone with his thoughts, not when they were so unbearable. Yet, in the late hours of the night, that was exactly what remained when a day's work was done. He found himself loitering, waiting for something to happen. But something never came.

There was, of course, the beach. Ahab knew well enough that this was not a place of comfort for him - he knew what had happened when he drifted too far from the metaphorical shore - but there was little stopping him from ignoring his instinct and forging onward. He had it under control; unlike the last time, in which he allowed himself to slip under the waves and be siezed by memories he could never forget. He had his herbs, his stamina. He was neither tired nor vulnerable. Suffice to say it was the perfect day to stretch out in the sun - the only thing that held him back was the knowledge that it was too easy to let it go all wrong.

He's taken to carrying a pouch these days, mostly at Roan's discretion. It's a small tactical bag that fastens nicely to his hip and stays on a belt loop - perfect for the small satchels of herbs he kept inside and the various apparatus he stashed for himself. At the shoreline this time, far from the dunes where he'd first allowed his own collapse, he pulls out a grinder. A mixture of herbs are ground together, aligned on a thick paper. He rolls a cigar. Listens to the waves. Thinks, of course, of how this was just like the last time.

When he lights up, it's easy to lose focus, but this time he keeps the balance between the truth and falsehood. Remember, he thinks, that this is all real. Smoke curls out from flared nostrils, a thick white plume; on the ocean, a boat bobs in the evening sun.

(mobile)


Re: OVER AND OVER AND OVER — octane - OCTANE. - 05-10-2020

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OCTANE
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OCTAVIO SILVA
High-Speed Daredevil
AFRICAN CHEETAH
TYPHOON
"Ooh, sick death, dude!"
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Ahab was about to have his whole fuckin' day ruined. Peace or calmness in any capacity was never Octane spots the bear on the beach, squinting through his goggles. Internally, he's sizing up Ahab, trying to decide which buttons to press and if they were worth pressing at all. Octane decides, yes, they are. This dude is a bear, bears are big and scary and sometimes sexy- wait. gross. He tries to imagine this guy as a gruff, stone-faced human, and an imagine similar to Caustic forms in his head.
Eurgh.
Time to go bug this dude. He wants to cigar- now how to tactically ask for it? Octane lops towards him, kicking up sand with his metal legs and planting himself besides the bear. "Hey, you," oh fuck, he's not good at this. "That's uh, cool cigar ya got there." Pop the question, idiot. "Can I try it? Roll it yourself?"
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Original code by lexasperated / artwork by @R_HillPrime


Re: OVER AND OVER AND OVER — octane - MYERS - 05-11-2020

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]He's almost drifted off, thoughtfully exhaling thick clouds through parted lips in rhythm with the crash of the ocean; it was never difficult for him to lose himself in the intoxicating flavor of clove and poison wormwood. Like nicotine and any other vice, it was a terrible habit - but he rarely inhaled, only swilling the taste through his teeth and occasionally taking a puff, so he reached the broad conclusion that seeing the effects of a painful herb were unlikely. (This was, of course, deeply untrue. He lived in a distant past that claimed itself much safer than the present knowledge.)

Perhaps it is luck that somebody walks by, their high voice jolting him back to the present - his previous incident had been caused by his trailing off to sleep. Ahab blinks, breathes; slow and steady, he reminds himself, not bothering to flinch as a plume of sand catches in his fur with the passing breeze. If Octane considers himself a tactician, he's already failed the role - his blunt words put the bear on edge as he chews, a little, on the paper snagged between his fangs. He half-expected the cheetah to simply reach up and snag the smoke for himself, but when no paw reached for his face Ahab allowed his shoulders to ease back once more.

Ahab turns, blows a thin trail of smoke in Octane's direction. He smiles like the sharks on the tide. "I don't waste herbs on people who don't need them."


Re: OVER AND OVER AND OVER — octane - OCTANE. - 05-20-2020

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OCTANE
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OCTAVIO SILVA
High-Speed Daredevil
AFRICAN CHEETAH
TYPHOON
"Ooh, sick death, dude!"
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Octane's trying to imagine what this guy's like as a human. Really gruff- maybe a hunk or somethin? The cigar fits him so perfectly, this guy looks so serious, like? "You got some tragic backstory huh? Who killed your parents?" he snickers, flicking his tail back and forth.

Octane steps closer, where he could mess with Ahab if he wanted and see how long he poke the bear before it mauled him. "Listen, listen, listen- I think- you should let me try it." He weighs it over in his head- Octane's awesome lungs shouldn't be be ruined by smoke, but just a hit? He should be fine.



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Original code by lexasperated / artwork by @R_HillPrime