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+---- Thread: CALL ME MR. RATTLEBONE — VISITOR-ISH? (/showthread.php?tid=3166)
CALL ME MR. RATTLEBONE — VISITOR-ISH? - B. DELORIA - 07-14-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4; color:black;"][color=#4467ab]"Grade-A idea, Butchman. Invite Mr. Independent on a vacation, let him go take a stupid mailman job, split up, what could go wrong?" Fuck, look at him: talking to himself, probably completely off his rocker, but honestly that could be the blood loss. Or something. Val was the nerd, not Butch. He could tell him about all the bones in his body and drone on about it all day so long as Butch paid enough attention, and then he'd forget everything Val said within the next hour because all of that- medical mumbo jumbo went completely over his head. He missed that, though. Val had been gone too long delivering some stupid package, and Butch wasn't able to wait around forever hoping he'd come back, so here he was, out on yet another "find the guy who went off to who knows where and pray he isn't dead" quest. Which...if Val knew he called it that, he'd either get a torn ear, or he wouldn't see him for a few days, because that last search journey didn't end so well. As in the death of Val's father, who they'd spent so much time looking for only to find him ready to toss in his life for the sake of some science-y shit.
Val nearly did too, so Butch really wasn't thrilled about letting him traipse around alone without someone to keep him from dying over something stupid.
Look at himself, though, right? Bleeding from several places, limping along through grass he couldn't see over. Without Val to bail Butch out, he wound up in situations like this: beaten, bruised, and put through the wringer. It wasn't long before he had to stop, shakily lowering himself down. His back leg hurt something fierce, while he had to keep swiping blood out of his right eye from the gash above it. The border collie squirmed, twisting around to close his teeth around the picture tucked in the collar of his jacket. He dropped it on the ground in front of him, propped against one of the clumps of towering grasses, and he set his head on his paws. The picture was an older one, just two white spotted shepherds, one a child with floppy ears that would later perk up. Val was a real fluff-ball in this one, reminding Butch of how much he missed his fur, even though Val would always bitch at him when he offered to clean it. He looked happy in this, though, content with his father.
It'd been a while since he'd seen that.
[color=#4467ab]"What'd you get yourself into this time?" He sighed, grimacing at the discomfort of his position, but walking again wasn't an option, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped in the first place. Val would never forgive him if he died, would probably find a way to force Butch's spirit into haunting him so he could give him a real tongue-lashing. Wasn't that a picture? The border collie snorted, sapphire eyes drifting shut; he just needed a few minutes to rest. Just a few.
Re: CALL ME MR. RATTLEBONE — VISITOR-ISH? - imperia - 07-14-2018
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Not once in her life has Imperia experienced the drive to seek someone out. Not by choice or lack of care for other individuals, but because her mother, Marguerite, is perhaps the only person on this entire planet who has ever really loved Peri. Her natal pack was filled with viscous, power-hungry predators who bullied the weak. And given Imperia's meek disposition, she was not very well liked. And as much as she adores living in the Ascendants' territory, the young she-wolf is not so stupid to believe that anyone here is her friend. A vast majority of them are kind and lovely people, but Peri is an outsider. She likes to think that Washington is her friend, but she can sense that his loyalties lie elsewhere. She wants to pretend that Suiteheart and Margaery and Bastille will embrace her into the unique family unit they have going on, but she is a stranger. No one would die for her here. No one would put their lives at risk to save her. It is in nature to be willing to give everything to help a person she barely even knows, but it is widely reciprocated. Imperia knows that she should be satisfied that, at the very least, people are nice here. It does not make her existence any less lonely, of course, but the girl does her best to remain chipper.
She commits herself to learning medicine and healing; devouring book after book before setting off into the plains to sketch plants into her journal. Peri is grateful to Rin for teaching her some new knowledge, for it filled in many of the gaps left by her mother's teachings. It was not enough, however. Trying to make friends while constantly feeling left on the outside can become quite disheartening, so Imperia tries to make more upsetting days better by painting, making flower crowns, or simply reading a fantasy novel. It is nice to escape to a make believe place every now and then. Less painful. She dreams of falling love, or simply finding a group of people who are willing to love and accept her. At least she has the Maker. She will guide Imperia in whatever direction is necessary to fulfill her duties on this planet. Peri is comforted that the Maker will always be there in the background, supporting her when no one else will.
As the petite canine emerges from within the barracks, what feels to be another's thoughts overrides her own, filling her mind with the instructions to head west. Why the sudden urge to travel to the outskirts of the territory? Why does she listen to such a strange phenomena? Imperia cannot say, but she makes sure she grabs her leather herb satchel before setting off to find..whatever it is she is supposed to find. Imperia is a pious creature, believing in something greater than herself, so perhaps that is why she does not falter from her path. Even after walking for what feels like ages through the unending expanse of emerald grass. A more cynical creature would be distrusting of a weird voice telling them what to do, but Peri is pure of heart and is inclined to believe that what she interprets as her goddess only possesses the best of intentions. Her belief is confirmed when the wind shifts, bringing with it the unmistakable scent of coppery blood. She wastes no time in making her approach, breaking into a graceful run as she crests a low hill. Sagacious silver eyes sweep over the horizon, searching for the origin. And then--she sees it.
"Mon dieu!" she exclaims in her native tongue as her dainty frame emerges from the tall grasses, angelic visage contorted with a mixture of confusion and concern. "Can you tell me about your injuries? How you received them? It will help me help you." It appears that the border collie is still somewhat conscious, so she wants to keep him talking and hopefully figured just what happened to him. "My name is Imperia--it is pertinent that you try to stay awake!" her voice is soft and sweet, but there is a nuance of urgency behind it. The lovely she-wolf crouches beside the stranger, fading sunlight refracting off of her beautiful pelt of gunmetal grey and various silvery hues. She briefly observes the scene as she reaches out to begin cleaning some of the blood from his face with a damp cloth, gaze falling upon the picture near his paws. "Is this your family in the picture?" Peri asks, hoping that it will be enough to keep him conscious while she works on his wounds. The she-wolf plans to avoid the worst injury on his hind leg until the male responds, for fear of misdiagnosing anything. But if he fails to give an answer, she knows she will have to do what she can even if she fears getting something wrong. Hopefully Rin will arrive to help her.
She commits herself to learning medicine and healing; devouring book after book before setting off into the plains to sketch plants into her journal. Peri is grateful to Rin for teaching her some new knowledge, for it filled in many of the gaps left by her mother's teachings. It was not enough, however. Trying to make friends while constantly feeling left on the outside can become quite disheartening, so Imperia tries to make more upsetting days better by painting, making flower crowns, or simply reading a fantasy novel. It is nice to escape to a make believe place every now and then. Less painful. She dreams of falling love, or simply finding a group of people who are willing to love and accept her. At least she has the Maker. She will guide Imperia in whatever direction is necessary to fulfill her duties on this planet. Peri is comforted that the Maker will always be there in the background, supporting her when no one else will.
As the petite canine emerges from within the barracks, what feels to be another's thoughts overrides her own, filling her mind with the instructions to head west. Why the sudden urge to travel to the outskirts of the territory? Why does she listen to such a strange phenomena? Imperia cannot say, but she makes sure she grabs her leather herb satchel before setting off to find..whatever it is she is supposed to find. Imperia is a pious creature, believing in something greater than herself, so perhaps that is why she does not falter from her path. Even after walking for what feels like ages through the unending expanse of emerald grass. A more cynical creature would be distrusting of a weird voice telling them what to do, but Peri is pure of heart and is inclined to believe that what she interprets as her goddess only possesses the best of intentions. Her belief is confirmed when the wind shifts, bringing with it the unmistakable scent of coppery blood. She wastes no time in making her approach, breaking into a graceful run as she crests a low hill. Sagacious silver eyes sweep over the horizon, searching for the origin. And then--she sees it.
"Mon dieu!" she exclaims in her native tongue as her dainty frame emerges from the tall grasses, angelic visage contorted with a mixture of confusion and concern. "Can you tell me about your injuries? How you received them? It will help me help you." It appears that the border collie is still somewhat conscious, so she wants to keep him talking and hopefully figured just what happened to him. "My name is Imperia--it is pertinent that you try to stay awake!" her voice is soft and sweet, but there is a nuance of urgency behind it. The lovely she-wolf crouches beside the stranger, fading sunlight refracting off of her beautiful pelt of gunmetal grey and various silvery hues. She briefly observes the scene as she reaches out to begin cleaning some of the blood from his face with a damp cloth, gaze falling upon the picture near his paws. "Is this your family in the picture?" Peri asks, hoping that it will be enough to keep him conscious while she works on his wounds. The she-wolf plans to avoid the worst injury on his hind leg until the male responds, for fear of misdiagnosing anything. But if he fails to give an answer, she knows she will have to do what she can even if she fears getting something wrong. Hopefully Rin will arrive to help her.
Re: CALL ME MR. RATTLEBONE — VISITOR-ISH? - Suiteheart - 07-15-2018
SUITE
HEART
HEART
Blood. The scent was strong, and Suiteheart was attracted to it. The newly made vampire could feel the hunger pangs sounding off inside of her, and she was pleased that her next meal seemed to be just over the hill. Her ears were pinned back, and her movements grew slow and deliberate as she crested the land. However, as she realized the blood belonged to a canine, she returned to her normal posture; she couldn't feed on his blood.
Her usual baby blue eyes were freckled with tiny molten amber pieces. As she neared and the metalic scent wreathed around her, the dark yellowish color intensified and spread, but she contained herself. Besides, Imperia was concerned about the injured canine. Suite had to help.
"Hey," she greeted, coming to the other side of Butchman. She let a lopsided grin float across her lips. "You don't look so hot buddy. Why don't you let us help you, huh?" She nodded to Imperia, quite happy with letting the lovely fae patch Butchman up. Imperia was talented and sweet - she had a knack for healing (and Suite was totally rooting for her in that aspect). "I'm Suiteheart. Peri already asked your name, so I won't ask again. But tell me about yourself, kiddo."
[edit: catch me adding extra stuff to roman's post like a thot!! my name's jared, im 19, and i never learned how to read]
Her usual baby blue eyes were freckled with tiny molten amber pieces. As she neared and the metalic scent wreathed around her, the dark yellowish color intensified and spread, but she contained herself. Besides, Imperia was concerned about the injured canine. Suite had to help.
"Hey," she greeted, coming to the other side of Butchman. She let a lopsided grin float across her lips. "You don't look so hot buddy. Why don't you let us help you, huh?" She nodded to Imperia, quite happy with letting the lovely fae patch Butchman up. Imperia was talented and sweet - she had a knack for healing (and Suite was totally rooting for her in that aspect). "I'm Suiteheart. Peri already asked your name, so I won't ask again. But tell me about yourself, kiddo."
[edit: catch me adding extra stuff to roman's post like a thot!! my name's jared, im 19, and i never learned how to read]
[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags
Re: CALL ME MR. RATTLEBONE — VISITOR-ISH? - WANDERER - 07-15-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]/ tracking for my son
Re: CALL ME MR. RATTLEBONE — VISITOR-ISH? - B. DELORIA - 07-15-2018
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4; color:black;"]The first time- that hadn't really been Butch's idea, but where else was he supposed to go? The vault didn't have anything for him -and they didn't need a barber for survival no matter how much he might argue against that point- and when he left, he realized just how...terrified he was of being alone in a new world. So he caught up with Val, who was wearing the jacket Butch gave him for saving his mom from those bastard roaches, and he managed to somehow convince the guy not to kick him out on his ass. He'd had every reason to, considering through their shared childhood, Butch spent most of that time picking on him in various ways, enacting the fierce envy he had of Val's father on him, and he hadn't deserved it. It wasn't like Val had any say in Butch's father, or that he'd affected his mother's spiral into alcoholism. But he'd been there, and he'd give back as good as he took, better sometimes; somehow, though, Butch had wound up at his side, and then later found he wasn't so keen on leaving it. Then, out of some kinda twist from a story, Val became...well, Butch wasn't a sap, okay? He was a tunnel snake through and through, but he couldn't pretend that gang was larger than just the pair of them, or that it would ever include anyone else when Butch was this content with how things were. He didn't need anybody else watching his back.
Damn, but he missed Nosebleed. The shepherd could take care of himself, he just- needed a hand with it sometimes, like after his father died and Butch worried he'd never smile again. The fact of the matter was, they had a good thing going between them, something he wouldn't trade for the world, and he wouldn't let some measly injuries or distance keep them from finding each other. As far as he was concerned, nothing else mattered but finding Val. He could almost pretend the paws he laid on were Val's side, except all that did was kick the longing into overdrive.
The border collie stared a little while longer at the photograph, aching for a chance to hear him call Butch dumbass one more time, stupid as that sounded. He could make it sound fond, like darling. Okay, maybe not, but Butch could pretend, all right? Reading between the lines was kinda their thing; he'd just need a little while to comprehend, and eventually, "dumbass" became whatever he needed it to be. Right now, he could use a sharp "dumbass" to get him off his rambling ass, but instead, he closed his eyes and settled in, breathing through the pain, at least until he was disturbed from what would be a very peaceful rest by a voice. Did he know what it was saying? No. It was like listening to Val on a science rant, except he didn't think this was actually English. The flurry of questions he could understand, and the border collie sighed, his one drooping ear twitching.
He took a crowbar to the lids of his eyes and peered at the slightly blurry canine, tongue suddenly lead in his mouth. [color=#447ab9]"They hurt? 'S about as much as I can tell you." He lifted his head slowly, blinking. [color=#447ab9]"Somebody bit me a coupla times on the leg. Feels kinda funny." By funny, he meant painful, and the effort it required to speak was beginning to take a toll on his energy reserves. He watched her bustle about, not quite certain yet that she wasn't a hallucination, although if this was his near-death illusion, he thought it would've been Val. She was like some kinda angel, unless that was just the way the light silhouetted her against the grass. [color=#447ab9]"Imperia. Imperialism. Think I learned about that once." Butch dropped his head back to his paws, exhaling heavily. [color=#447ab9]"It was boring." There was something wet swiped across his face, cleaning the tacky blood from his fur, and that felt much better.
[color=#447ab9]"Hmm?" His family? Oh. Val and his father. He didn't think he could consider James family. The doc...yeah, he was what Butch wanted in a dad, why he spent so much time pushing Val around when they were younger, but he was always just the delinquent to him. Even when they found him, his focus was Val and his work. Not much time for making nice. Still, though...It wasn't a wrong guess. [color=#447ab9]"Yep." He popped the "p." [color=#447ab9]"That's Val. The small one. He's older now, 'n I gotta find him." Butch dragged his gaze to the mass of white nearby, who was also talking to him now. She was right, wasn't she? He must have looked awful. His poor fur.
[color=#447ab9]"She did?" Had she asked him his name? He hadn't noticed if she did. [color=#447ab9]"'M Butch. Not kiddo." Butch paused, blinking, trying to stay awake. That was the point, wasn't it? Why they both kept talking to him? [color=#447ab9]"H've you seen him? In the picture? He's smart but he's dumb 'n I gotta find him before he does something stupid."
Re: CALL ME MR. RATTLEBONE — VISITOR-ISH? - imperia - 07-17-2018
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A sigh of relief escapes Imperia's lips when she hears the male talk. The border collie is a bloody mess (literally), but if he can speak coherently that probably means that he will live regardless of his injuries. She glances up briefly at Suiteheart, offering the older female a shaky smile. Peri is nervous--that much is clear. But her paws are steady as she completes cleaning the blood from his forehead and places a cobweb on the wound once she is sure that the bleeding has ebbed. The lovely young she-wolf does not pretend to be an expert on healing, but she knows enough to at least patch this poor guy up. Before she forgets, Peri looks up at Suite once more. "C-can you please go get Rin?" she requests, voice shaky. She suspects that someone of the male's wounds are worse than they look, especially after the description he gave of his leg, so she does not think she can responsibly handle a serious injury.
She returns her attention back to her patient. "It feels funny? That does not sound very good.." Imperia thoughtfully furrows her brow. She suspects that a bone might be broken. Or several. "If it's alright with you, I'm going to touch your leg to check if it is broken. I'll be gentle so just tell me how it feels." If it isn't what she thinks it is, then she'll go right ahead and patch everything up. But if it's broken? Peri decides to wait for a practiced cleric to diagnose the extent of the injury. Without further ado, the girl reaches out a paw and delicate prods the wounded leg. She pauses, searching the male's face to gauge his reaction. His babbling about her name brings a hesitant smile to her lovely features. Imperia is nervous, so the reaction is muted, but the joking eases her somewhat. It's hard to be anxious when the patient is making light of the situation. "Imperia as in 'commanding' not imperialism," she corrects with a short laugh. Maker, she hopes she was not named for imperialism. From what she read, imperialism is very negative due to how it takes advantage of others in favor of strengthening one's own country. Peri wants to lead, yes, but not to destroy.
As Butch introduces himself and talks on and on about the person in the picture, Imperia busies herself by cleaning and dressing the less severe wounds on his injured leg. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Butch, though it is a shame it is in this manner," politely responds the petite predator. She pauses, taking the time to fully observe the canine in the picture now that most of the bleeding has been stopped. So he is looking for Val, huh? By the way Butch talks about him, Peri suspects that they are a couple. It is actually kinda romantic: a partner risking life and limb to track down their long lost love. And the she-wolf is definitely a sucker for romance. "No, I have not seen him--my apologies. But feel free to stay for a day or two to ask around if anyone else has seen him." Another smile, this one more confidant and reassuring.
She returns her attention back to her patient. "It feels funny? That does not sound very good.." Imperia thoughtfully furrows her brow. She suspects that a bone might be broken. Or several. "If it's alright with you, I'm going to touch your leg to check if it is broken. I'll be gentle so just tell me how it feels." If it isn't what she thinks it is, then she'll go right ahead and patch everything up. But if it's broken? Peri decides to wait for a practiced cleric to diagnose the extent of the injury. Without further ado, the girl reaches out a paw and delicate prods the wounded leg. She pauses, searching the male's face to gauge his reaction. His babbling about her name brings a hesitant smile to her lovely features. Imperia is nervous, so the reaction is muted, but the joking eases her somewhat. It's hard to be anxious when the patient is making light of the situation. "Imperia as in 'commanding' not imperialism," she corrects with a short laugh. Maker, she hopes she was not named for imperialism. From what she read, imperialism is very negative due to how it takes advantage of others in favor of strengthening one's own country. Peri wants to lead, yes, but not to destroy.
As Butch introduces himself and talks on and on about the person in the picture, Imperia busies herself by cleaning and dressing the less severe wounds on his injured leg. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Butch, though it is a shame it is in this manner," politely responds the petite predator. She pauses, taking the time to fully observe the canine in the picture now that most of the bleeding has been stopped. So he is looking for Val, huh? By the way Butch talks about him, Peri suspects that they are a couple. It is actually kinda romantic: a partner risking life and limb to track down their long lost love. And the she-wolf is definitely a sucker for romance. "No, I have not seen him--my apologies. But feel free to stay for a day or two to ask around if anyone else has seen him." Another smile, this one more confidant and reassuring.