shoot dem rats / o, human au

[no more]

it is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness

[ blame cheets for this ]

For a time they had been spared the complexities of life, their youth seemingly enough to keep it at bay if even for this short period of time, a chance to grow and learn before the weight was put atop their shoulders. Yet it brought with it other problems unique to childhood, to those days when energy is a fire in the belly burning at times when it is least needed, when the want for excitement proved strong and the lack of anything to hold them offering only resentment. They had grown better about handling those periods when they sought stimuli beyond the minimal boundaries they were within, meant to keep them safe but it cut away the world as well, left with only a taste of what was to come.

No stranger to the tavern, as they had taken to spending cloudy nights when the wind proved too strong for them to sleep in one of the various hammocks, they had taken to exploration rather early that morning, the space filled with flickering candlelight. Many had come to stay within those worn walls, and called it a temporary shelter, and not all had taken the items they had brought along upon their departure.

Sitting with their legs danging over the edge of a table Jay sported a grin, wide and filled with teeth, their dark eyes glimmering with a mirth touched by malice, they enjoyed a simple game. Lifting the bow once more they pulled the string back, the feathers upon the arrow tickling their cheek, the familiar sting taking its place as the bowstring snapped back into place. A loud cry of joy rose from the child as they watched the arrow pierce a rat just below the head, the fine bones of its neck snapping faintly as it fell limp, given no chance to make even one last noise before it was dead.

Littering the floor of the tavern five of its brethren had found such an end, each arrow topped with bright red feathers, evidence of their little escapade. Truly Jay was an odd ten year old, another arrow notched within moments, their attention moving across the floor in search of another furry bastard.

[align=center]

two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings

[CLEO R. C.]

CLEO ROUX-CIPHER

Consider them a pair of oddities then, the tiny girl barefooted and quiet as she crouched beside the bodies with detached interest, an arm extending until fingers delicately pressed against the floor and permitted Eshe access to her sister's playthings. She watched as the mamba detached herself from her arm, a hiss of approval upon being granted a meal ringing in the air. And then there an awkward silence as Cleo watched her snake ingest each and every one of the rats, only rising to look at Aita - Jay - after the snake had once again returned to her arm, coiling tightly around it. [color=#445544]"I hope you didn't want those," The child supplied easily, striding forward and lifting herself up until she, too, was sitting besides them upon the table. She'd kick the vacant air a few times, legs swinging back and forth randomly, toes flexing in the faint breeze she generated. [color=#445544]"Did Daddy hire you as pest control?"

A tiny laugh fell from Cleo at that one, the little girl so obviously endeared by her own, pathetic joke (which wasn't really a joke at all). She'd lift a hand to absently brush loose curls out of her face, bright red eyes traveling over the weapon Jay wielded so easily to kill the rats. [color=#445544]"Who taught you had to use that?" She inquired lightly, now stroking Eshe's head delicately. The snake was still hungry - she could feel it - and Cleo half considered asking Jay to shoot down a few more rodents so that her mamba would not resort to less civil means of obtaining food. [color=#445544]"Will you teach me?" Cleo inquired suddenly, eyes brightening, a pair of hands bracing her against the table as she leaned forward eagerly. Eshe curled tightly around her arm- a warning. The snake had never been particularly fond of her companion learning skills from anyone but her. [color=#445544]"I want to learn! I promise I'll listen!" She insisted a bit uncharacteristically, now reaching for the weapon.

[color=#445544]"Pleaaasssseeeee."

© MADI

[VANDAL R.]

Between a hut in the process of being built and her sheer lack of motivation to decorate it rearing its ugly head, Vandal has taken to renting a room in the tavern agains just to get away from the stress of making her own home. It's a simple hut lodged in the nooks and crannies of a big tree, it shouldn't be so hard, but she's insistent on making sure it looks as nice as it can possibly be - which also means she's stressing over how nice to make it without it looking unpleasing to the eyes.

Holed up in one of the tavern's many rooms, she crumples another piece of paper and throws it in the trashcan under her desk, scowling as it hits the rim and bounces out - she steps on it instead in frustration before throwing her pencil across the room. It's... irritating. She can't seem to think of a good design for her new house's interior, and sh doesn't dare stay in it looking so bare. It's been at least thirteen attempts of trying to draw something cohesive and pleasing, and she decides she probably needs a drink from the downstairs.

Sliding her chair back, Vandal gets up to her feet and makes a move for her coat - only to remember that she'd left her coat somewhere downstairs, dangling on the coat rack. With a sigh, she rolls up the white sleeves of her dark-brown doublet, tightens the leather vest around her body, and makes her way out of the room, grabbing her tricorn hat by the door as she goes. With it nestled on top of her dark auburn hair, she makes her way through the corridor and has only reached the top of the flight of stairs when a familiar voice rings in her ears.

Green eyes narrowed, Vandal walks the rest of the way down, peering at the bar proper only to find Cleo and Jay sitting on the table - one of which is armed with a bow. "Aren't the both of ya a li'l young to be hangin' out here?" There's no malice in her voice, however. Her lips curl into a comfortable smile, happy enough to see them both, before wandering over to the bar to fill herself a tankard of mead from the barrel's faucet. She lets the frothy concoction reach the brim before turning the handle and lifting it to her lips, letting the bitter-sweat taste sooth her tongue.

When she brings the tankard down, there's a line of froth on her upper lip, which she quickly wipes away with her sleeve. "Huh. Yeah. Where did ya get that, Jay? If I'd known ya both wanted bows, I'd've brought some home from the trading outpost... then again, I should probably do that tomorrow night anyways seeing as you're both pretty interested in it."

[no more]

[align=center][div style="width: 230px; font-family: georgia; color: #7b8189; font-size: 10px; text-align: center;line-height: 110%; padding-top:10px; padding-bottom:10px"]i'll never get to heaven cause i don't know how

Though it was but an unofficial title it seemed the two matched all too well to not be deemed twins, in the matter of their rather interesting habits or the disaster which seemed to doggedly follow their steps, different from one another yet seemingly drawn closer for that.

Little love for the snake was present within the child and for a time they wondered at what might transpire if they dared to loosen their arrow upon it, its life ended beneath the steel tip, yet their fingers loosened only slightly before they allowed the bow to fall, slowly releasing the tension upon the string. They knew all too well of the love Cleo felt for each of her snakes, no mere pets in her eyes but companions, an extension of her family which they begrudgingly accepted for seeing her happy was enough. It took a good bit to keep their face from contorting into a look of disgust as they watched the snake eat the dead rats, though it would be a lie to say they were not somewhat interested as well, curious as to why it was she swallowed each whole.

Attention shifting from the feasting snake the smile which curled their lips was light and filled with a genuine warmth – they had no care to admit the love they felt each time they were within Cleo's presence, gentle and soft compared to the harsher edges offered to the others of their family. All the same it was clear in the dark eyes Jay turned to her, their own laugh breaking through, a rare thing for it held no edge of bitterness or malicious mirth, rather it was genuine and childish, a giggle.

“If only, think I'm doin a pretty good job,” light-hearted was their the tone they used though they shifted back a small bit as Cleo leaned into their space, gaze shifting to the snake coiled about her arm once more, uneasy with it being so close. “No un, just been practicin on me own, not too 'ard ta pick up.” They rolled their shoulders in a shrug, forgoing speaking of the various attempts which had lead to them almost hitting others, as well as hours of them growing frustrated as they attempted to notch a single arrow. “Course, jus' don't go shootin me in da foot or nutin.”

Sheepish was the grin Jay turned towards Vandal, a familiar face yet one still a stranger to them in many ways though they were family, reaching up to scratch at the back of their head in embarrassment. They had made no big deal of moving into the tavern for a time as they sought a place of their own, the submarine was crowded with so many present and they had grown uncomfortable with the arrangement, speaking nothing of their feelings towards the captain.

“I uh... been sleepin 'ere, too full in the sub,” they spoke somewhat matter-of-factly, wanting this line of conversation to end as quickly as possible. It was Vandal's next words a light entered those dark eyes, quickly rising to her with no hint of hesitation, the words tumbling forth rather quickly. “Outpost? Can I come wit ya? Oh... found it?” Tacking on the answer at the end they hoped the other would look kindly upon them, curiosity about the trading outpost growing within them, already their imagination conjuring an image of what they hoped to find there.

the tyhpoon — minnow — tags

[VANDAL R.]

[align=center][table]
[tr][td]

[/td][td]

CAN THE KILLER IN ME
(tame the fire in you)

[/td][/tr][/table]

Vandal inclines her head and listens, brushing a lock of auburn away from the rise of her cheek when she hums in acknowledgement. Ah, yes, the submarine. She understands - she hasn't really spent a lot of time in the sub and refuses to live in it for the same reason. Too crowded, too many people, too enclosed in steel walls and beams and far, far too small. Admittedly, she loathes living in such a restrictive space, which is mostly why she decided to build her own home in the jungle. Up in the trees, her house would be something free and open, exposed to the world, just how she likes it. "I get that," she says finally with a shrug of her thin shoulders, hands slipping into the pockets of her pants before curling into loose fists. "Hey, ya can always move in with me when I get my house done. I's nice and open, up high in the tree, y'have your own li'l mini hut an' everythin'. Both of ya... although you're gonna have to wait though."

After all, the first of many huts is still being built and refurbished - she'll have to finish that first, then build separate huts, as well as the bridges interconnecting them all. It's a good concept, she knows this, but a bitch to build, undoubtedly. She's spent far too long trying to stare down the hammer and willing it to move for her; who knows, maybe Thor really is out there, listening?

Outpost? Can I come wit ya?

That gets Vandal's lips twisting into an even wider grin, casting her gaze from Aita and Cleo and making a show of thinking. She hums and taps her chin for good measure, looking at the ceiling as if she's deep in thought, before nodding her head. "'Course ya can! You too, Cleo. Hell, if ya want, we can head out there righ' now! M'sure Pinchy won' mind." How sure is she? "'Sides, he'll probably jus' make sure you have adult supervision, and considerin' I'm as old as him..."

It's decided.

"Anythin' you two need to do firs' 'fore we head out? I's probably gonna take up a handful of hours, so ya gotta make sure you're prepared. Food, drinks, weapons, all that good stuff."

ooc. wowe i had this open for 4 hours fjdskl

VANDAL ROUX — THE TROUBLEMAKER — TYPHOON STRIKER — [color=#ad9998]TAGS

© MADI