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( no man is worth the aggravation / visitor ) - Grimm - 01-17-2021
[div style="margin: auto; max-width: 475px; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]Numerous the attributes that may be ascribed to Foam, among them distinct the lack of obedient, or, possibly, more apt intelligent.
Political the main focus of impromptu visitation conducted by a few select members of the distant community similarly situated on the shoreline, disappointment rather evident when established the one he wished to see was not present. Easy to understand the reasoning behind such, a child as he was during first introduction and the restriction to his own movement was rigidly upheld. At the least information had been exchanged, assured of his fine health, over his head much of it gone, however. Tended that disappointment until it grew into a fervent want.
Stupid his roughly laid plan, yet to quell the doubt, the delicate tremor within the depths of his stomach that seemed akin to the gentle stroke of a butterfly wing, he would throw away all he had been given only days prior. Expanded his responsibilities, but so too was his freedom, his brief stay alongside the other apprentices offering little respite. Ease allowed the lies to fall from his tongue without hitch as he explained to those set about the perimeter of the shallow valley he wished to stay on the boardwalk, permitted upon the basis known now he lodged there more often than not. Behind the watchful eyes fell, settled on him for too numerous the attempts prior that he had performed some mischievous misdeed without observation, trajectory shifting as he moved beyond their sight.
An unknown the world beyond, unsure the lingering glances he cast back, daunting the prospect now as the boardwalk and the structures built atop fell away. His departure was not permanent, embedded within him the shore and people, apart of him as the ocean that had lapped at him when left in the tide, named for it. Soon he would return, accept any consequence that may arise from such idiotic decision, for now he held only a quiet hope, a flame in his chest that sought another that had not left his mind since his own exit.
Meagre fuel for that before him, dwindling as the day wore on, the first night closing about with a dawning realisation. He held the title of discern, was deemed a child no more among the ranks he had left behind, but reality wrote a different tale, useless skills that had no chance to be honed, nor learned in case of some. Fatigue weighed heavy as dawn broke and his efforts were proved futile, a mess his once silver coat, behind left the cloak given as a gift. Mistake such, chilled the breeze brought forth with the rising of the sun, little offered by winter touched forest. Refusal to return thickened, grew a lump in his throat as the notion was roughly rejected. He would prove himself capable no matter the time that was necessary to traverse the land, in this his conviction was strong.
Rather sizable hitch in his plan was the matter he knew not where he was going, directions something he could not request from the visitors for Rhinestone would have known his intent.
Momentum all he was capable on, moving with a purpose that acted his singular desire, held that thread I thoughts that spiralled, a typhoon caught in such a diminutive space seeking destruction of all. Beyond his count the events he had caused, moments he entered where he was not permitted, those beset by a danger he could not handle, death grown a lingering presence he was accustomed to. Yet apart set this, unlike the rest for the breach of trust, faltering his steps as breath broke, a quiet sound, one his own ears wished to attribute to another. There was none that may take the blame, alone was he left with it, at this crossroad where return seemed a more dangerous prospect than continuing. Lip worried at as options were once more pondered, made the lost and lonesome child he truly was in that moment.
Rough the shake, their wake leaving a hollow space, momentum begun only to feel muscles constrict. Unknown the time he allowed himself the freedom of wild movement, it may have been minutes or hours, he may only formulate an inadequate guess and so did not bother, instead allowed himself to collapse. Restless the sleep he falls into, filled that darkness with singular visage, ebony obscured beneath spreading rust, broken the soft shimmer of gold with a mirth left soundless, cruel this fabricated glimpse he reaches for yet the slightest contact leaves him dissipating like smoke.
"Love." Warped the simple name, dry throat and sleep laden tongue unkind, a sweet weight all the same. Realisation settles, molds his thoughts until upward head suddenly moves, grown dizzy as vision swims with smeared colours refusing to settle into defined detail once more. The catalyst of his spontaneous expedition, by no means out of place his contemplation of the other, something within him rather opposed to such, understood a truth he discarded.
Heavy his presence, there always with the continuation of his progress, that which first touched each newly formed thought awoken as the day broke around him and left him as sleep stole across his disorganised introspection. A cycle had it grown, the passage of days each bringing further turmoil as each attempt to feed himself brought nothing but the bitter taste of failure, at the least somewhat readily available relatively clean sources of water. Few and far between those whose paths converged with his own, many clueless as he questioned them over the whereabouts of the Typhoon, their kindness appreciated compared to those enraged by his mere presence. Lonesome the trek, little present beyond the thick vegetation ringing towering trunks, landscape broken in aces by streams or meadows, open ground skirted and thus lengthened his path.
Difficult to gauge the number of days that had passed him by when the thundering conclusion of waves arose above the gentle breeze, thought for a moment a dream, his wish to see Lovepaw drowned beneath his desire to be home. False proven this with the shift of undergrowth, before stretching a brief portion of sand, obscured by deeply sunken metal and wood the waves lapped along. Disbelief left him still, narrowed the eyes that moved across the scene before him, not trusted until forth did paw move. Familiar the texture, the grains sticking between toes, heated by the unobscured illumination of the sun, giddy the smile arising along his lips.
The track once more caught his attention, studied as confusion arose. Spoken of how the pirates resided upon a beach, apparent this a minimal stretch that may not be easily inhabited by a great many, no mention made of the method to reach it. From his hiding place he stepped, quickly casting his vision across the sand to each side, continued this as he moved closer. Solid the rust lined metal beneath his paw, unpleasant the manner it scraped against aching skin though something he must deal with, eyes moving along the length, distance obscuring anything that may be present upon the other side.
Nothing was left to him but this, the brine brushing against his belly as shakey steps drew him on, progress slowed a considerable amount as the ocean tugged at him with each pass, the waterlogged wood ravaged by claws as his paws settled for a moment too long. There is no end. Singular thought encircles his mind, rests among the silenced strands that echo it back, a reverberation his lips slowly take up, a soundless plea for this to end. Slow the break, horizon crowned by structure outlined in the cascade of light, against the glare vision squinted. Renewed with this sight on pushed muscle that cried for relief, blood a crimson trail washed away beneath the ebb and flow of the tide, split open the splinter laden pads that strike each sleeper. Too far, caught between, in the dark crevice separating each worn plank, the water flooding mouth that opened without conscious thought, nostrils flaring as head was lifted.
Left coughing, with the heavy tang of salt painting his mouth, was Foam, sprawled along the track, close the tantalising stretch of sand, yet the distance a gulf he may not traverse.
Re: ( no man is worth the aggravation / visitor ) - lovekit. - 01-19-2021
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YOU KNOW WHICH STARS BELONG,
In all honesty, Lovefool wasn't exactly sure how long it had been since he had gone to visit Palmclan – or rather, the Palm Glades, as they had taken to calling themselves. He was sure if he really wanted to figure it out, he could, given the fact that he could just count the months since the day he left to go exploring and ended up there. Unfortunately, recalling such things had become more difficult ever since the Jungle Juice incident, especially taking into account the gap of time where he had been entirely collapsed and unconscious. That didn't mean that Love had just forgotten his time within the Glades, though. He still looked back on those days fondly, especially considering he still had the bandana that he had found upon their shores – albeit in a much more dilapidated state these days. Out of all the things that the hybrid remember about the Palm Glades, however, his time spent with Foamkit was the most crystal clear. The other had been his first and best true friend that wasn't just a member of his family, and he still fondly remembered all the little moments spent with Foam. Unfortunately, all that had come to an end when Goldie had come to pick him up, and he had been forced to come back to The Typhoon – although he wasn't quite being forced, considering he had been getting homesick at that point.
Ever since then, Lo hadn't really had a chance to go and visit the other again. Shortly after he had returned home, he had decided to pull off his little experiment with the Jungle Juice – an experiment with results that had left him out of commission for months. When he had finally woken up, he was in no state to go traveling anywhere and he knew it. Besides, he also knew that if he even attempted going out on his own again, Roxie would have his head on a silver platter – perhaps literally. So, he had chosen to just remain at home, hoping that Foamkit was doing alright all the way on that other shore. The hybrid had been filled in a little on what had gone on during his time asleep, so he was most concerned with how the Glades was handling the Coalition. He wouldn't be able to bear it if Foam was in danger and he wasn't able to do absolutely anything to stop it. Of course, there were also more positive ideas that occasionally danced in his mind, such as wondering if Foam was actually a paw yet. If he was, Lovefool would be excited to finally get to congratulate him on it, once the time finally came where he was able to head out on the road once again.
Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Love would have to go anywhere. Instead, it seemed as though Foam had decided to make a little trip to The Typhoon, all on his own. If the hybrid had known about his friend's plan ahead of time, he probably would've smacked Foamkit in the side of the head just for thinking about it. After all, the journey between The Typhoon and the Glades was dangerous, and Lo had been stupid enough when he had decided to go through it on his own. He didn't exactly want Foam to follow in his footsteps, especially when that would probably have Rhinestone in a fit as well. Unfortunately – or fortunately, if you were looking at things from the perspective of Foam – Lovefool hadn't known about the other's plans. In fact, he hadn't even been drawn over to the border that day because of anything to do with Foampaw. Instead, the young male had been out looking for joiners, figuring he might as well be doing something productive with his time. Perhaps Roxie would be quicker to forgive him if he could prove that he was useful around the group, and wasn't just a nuisance.
Soft and slow steps had carried Lovefool along until he reached the tracks, his green gaze focused downwards as he moved from post to post. He could feel the water licking lightly at his ankles, an occasional snort leaving the boy at the faint ticklish feeling it inflicted upon him. His amusement was cut short, however, when the scent of the Palm Glades reached his nose, causing his head to snap up in surprise. A soft gasp slipped forth from his muzzle as he spotted Foampaw, sprawled out in the water and no doubt sucking a lot of it up into his mouth. Lo was quick to rush over, ignoring the way the waves tugged at him as he nudged Foam with his nose, his voice hushed, "Foam...? What the hell are you doing here?! Y-You can't just lay on the tracks like this! The tide will come and yank you away!" His tone was stern with worry, but also softened at the end, no doubt because of the fact that Love was glad to see his old friend. He continued to prod at the other with his muzzle, attempting to make him at least sit up so that he wouldn't drown himself in the still fairly shallow water.
Whether he managed to get the other up or not, the hybrid then took a step back, looking Foampaw over carefully. He tried to commit every detail of the other to memory, just so that he wouldn't find himself forgetting anything the next time the two of them were apart. He didn't find anything particularly odd with doing so – Foam was essentially his best friend, after all. Lo's tone had softened even more as he spoke up again, shaking his head at the other before he questioned, "How did you even get here, Foam? Did you come all on your own? Because if you did, I'm going to have to chew your ears off! You could've gotten hurt! Bad enough when I did things the other way around..." Lovefool's gaze seemed to drift off slightly, recalling the worried look on Goldie's face as she had shown up on the border, demanding to know where he was. Distantly, he wondered if she would do the same now, even with her current memory loss. He was quick to shake that thought off, though, forcing himself back into the moment as he looked towards Foampaw expectantly.
Ever since then, Lo hadn't really had a chance to go and visit the other again. Shortly after he had returned home, he had decided to pull off his little experiment with the Jungle Juice – an experiment with results that had left him out of commission for months. When he had finally woken up, he was in no state to go traveling anywhere and he knew it. Besides, he also knew that if he even attempted going out on his own again, Roxie would have his head on a silver platter – perhaps literally. So, he had chosen to just remain at home, hoping that Foamkit was doing alright all the way on that other shore. The hybrid had been filled in a little on what had gone on during his time asleep, so he was most concerned with how the Glades was handling the Coalition. He wouldn't be able to bear it if Foam was in danger and he wasn't able to do absolutely anything to stop it. Of course, there were also more positive ideas that occasionally danced in his mind, such as wondering if Foam was actually a paw yet. If he was, Lovefool would be excited to finally get to congratulate him on it, once the time finally came where he was able to head out on the road once again.
Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Love would have to go anywhere. Instead, it seemed as though Foam had decided to make a little trip to The Typhoon, all on his own. If the hybrid had known about his friend's plan ahead of time, he probably would've smacked Foamkit in the side of the head just for thinking about it. After all, the journey between The Typhoon and the Glades was dangerous, and Lo had been stupid enough when he had decided to go through it on his own. He didn't exactly want Foam to follow in his footsteps, especially when that would probably have Rhinestone in a fit as well. Unfortunately – or fortunately, if you were looking at things from the perspective of Foam – Lovefool hadn't known about the other's plans. In fact, he hadn't even been drawn over to the border that day because of anything to do with Foampaw. Instead, the young male had been out looking for joiners, figuring he might as well be doing something productive with his time. Perhaps Roxie would be quicker to forgive him if he could prove that he was useful around the group, and wasn't just a nuisance.
Soft and slow steps had carried Lovefool along until he reached the tracks, his green gaze focused downwards as he moved from post to post. He could feel the water licking lightly at his ankles, an occasional snort leaving the boy at the faint ticklish feeling it inflicted upon him. His amusement was cut short, however, when the scent of the Palm Glades reached his nose, causing his head to snap up in surprise. A soft gasp slipped forth from his muzzle as he spotted Foampaw, sprawled out in the water and no doubt sucking a lot of it up into his mouth. Lo was quick to rush over, ignoring the way the waves tugged at him as he nudged Foam with his nose, his voice hushed, "Foam...? What the hell are you doing here?! Y-You can't just lay on the tracks like this! The tide will come and yank you away!" His tone was stern with worry, but also softened at the end, no doubt because of the fact that Love was glad to see his old friend. He continued to prod at the other with his muzzle, attempting to make him at least sit up so that he wouldn't drown himself in the still fairly shallow water.
Whether he managed to get the other up or not, the hybrid then took a step back, looking Foampaw over carefully. He tried to commit every detail of the other to memory, just so that he wouldn't find himself forgetting anything the next time the two of them were apart. He didn't find anything particularly odd with doing so – Foam was essentially his best friend, after all. Lo's tone had softened even more as he spoke up again, shaking his head at the other before he questioned, "How did you even get here, Foam? Did you come all on your own? Because if you did, I'm going to have to chew your ears off! You could've gotten hurt! Bad enough when I did things the other way around..." Lovefool's gaze seemed to drift off slightly, recalling the worried look on Goldie's face as she had shown up on the border, demanding to know where he was. Distantly, he wondered if she would do the same now, even with her current memory loss. He was quick to shake that thought off, though, forcing himself back into the moment as he looked towards Foampaw expectantly.
YOU WEAR THEM ON YOUR FACE