water under the bridge

[ROSEMARY]

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She longed for the sea. Falling asleep to the waves crashing against the shore and wandering the wet sands in the morning always made her happy – but now, because of her own stupid choices, she lived far away from the salt water. And it pained her, how it pained her, to live away from the only thing in the world that ever made her feel happy. Yet, as she thought about choices, she knew she made the only one she could; staying in the Typhoon wasn’t a choice at all.

The medic found herself taking more risks to visit the ocean, if only to feel the salt wind in her hair and feast on fish. She never visited the same rocky buff twice – with miles upon miles of shoreline to explore, Rosemary dived into her wanderlust. That, at least, was something that leaving her family and home allowed her to do easier than had she stayed. Today, though, she explored near the Typhoon’s territory; the beaches along the mainland next to their island were beautiful, teaming with tide pools and hidden caves. She almost felt tempted to stay the night and break  her rule of never visiting a place more than once – but she didn’t need to make up her mind now, with the midday sun blaring down at her.

Stalking the sandy shore, the ocelot’s ears flicked back against her head. For nearly half an hour, she crouched over the tide pools like this – waiting, ignoring the screeching seabirds around her and the waves lapping at her paws. And then she saw it: an octopus crawling out of one of the bigger tide pools, pulling itself out with flailing tentacles. But still she waited, watching it crawl along the beach until it wandered far enough away from the closest tide pools to be vulnerable.

Violently, she shot forward with the ocean’s wind at her back. Teeth snapped around the octopus’s body, snarls flying from her throat as the creature spasmed and tried to fight her. But Rosemary appeared used to this type of hunting; a sharp blade rose out of her satchel, hovering before cleanly severing the octopus’s legs from its body mid-air. Spitting out its main body, she grinned and held the legs suspended in the air with her power – avoiding the sand getting on them, and watching the tasty things squirm with odd fascination.

[member=339]VAAS.[/member]

waded through the spirits like a flood on the floor

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SHE PUSHED THE WATER INSIDE

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[Whisper]

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BOY KING

"take me into your heart , accept me as your savior nail me to the fucking cross and let me be reborn" — an antagonist with a silver tongue , a pirate with nothing to loose and everything to gain . vaas montenegro ; he who lives to fight demons should be weary he himself does not become one ." it's not like i am fucking crazy — "

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Vaas knew of yearning  wild blood ran through his marrow , vegetation grew down his spine, water roared deep inside his blood . his body was a battle ground , a vehemence . uncontrolled - untamed . Family called to him a siren song filled with teeth and the clan now demanded his attention with reckless abandon. he felt pulled in opposite directions , between lines - between worlds. a culture that did nothing but suppress and a home that wanted nothing but to let him live.

he was clumsy , reckless, so very naive - but he was young still too . unburdened by the world sheltered by both words in kind. He was pampered, and his problems were personal and not vital in the slightest. he abandoned them when he left - and never had the male done something so cowardly before ; but for the longest time his home had told him stories that the male's role was to provide and the females to think. So for once he didn't think - for once he let his heart take him home and home never really changed destinations , just changed sides.

Things were good , even ground underfoot made the native confident. Yet deep in the soil the tides where shifting , the balance in the world - in his world was sifting. the kick off would either lead to a slope donwards or a complete dropout into the depths. Vaas was not running from his problems- if he were running he would leave this place - his home and the only thing he had called home his entire life . but maybe he was attempting to deny his roles- his duty. His family wanted him to be perfect - the little obedient manservent- or whatever the fuck. Citra wanted a shadow to mold and a mind to hold - and vaas?

Vaas just wanted freedome. it's all he'll ever want- all he'll ever need. but no- what he needs is a home, needs his jungle needs his family.

- afterall, without or family who the fuck are we?

he never knew what it was like to loose something- what it was to miss the feeling of home. It's why he kept his problems to himself- kept his responsibility to himself and took it all in stride. Swept doubt under the eccentric facade that was in your face and violent. It was easier to handle, easier to shift into the role of uncontrollable. At least this hid his true intentions of running.

the day was young , shadows in the jungle shifted to his advantage as russet brushed against the undergrowth. Long bands of beach unfolding under paw claws catching grit - eyes catching her. A silhouette that was surrounded by the sea. Vaas kept an eye on this island- his home since he was born. He knew every face, every voice that lives here- and more that didn't. But he didn't know her- and that was interesting.

cocky , sure. The tiger prowled, his steps soft to the sound of the waves- of the lush vegetation behind them both now. In the open - rosemary bounded after sea life and the tiger bounded after her. His larger frame making quick work of the distance. By the time she caught her own prey- he was tail lengths away from his.

a quick swipe aimed at her back legs- claws bared but not to rake so much as to catch. if one knew him well enough they'd know this behavior was akin to playing. and while Vaas had always been the kind to attack before he asked, he compromised both for a certainty that this was his only chance to catch her off guard. teeth bared in a grin, if he managed to get her oof her feet- he would violently catch her sides and roll her onto her back in the same move. Not standing over her , but standing next to her prone form. The same grin on his maw.

of course, he was't always perfect either. if she did manage to detect him , or dodge his own form of play. he'd make his own dodge for an expected assault , backing clearing out of the way. and hopefully out of range of whatever let her float the squid legs.

[ROSEMARY]

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With her prey caught, the ocelot’s attention wavered enough to hear the squelching sand behind her – but she did not turn fast enough, and she tumbled into the sand at the sweep to her legs. Her catch and knife dropped to the ground in a heap, forgotten, as his second blow caught her sides and she rolled. Her paws pushed off the sand, adding to the momentum he lent her until she landed at the edge of the sea with clumps of sand sticking everywhere.

Alone, Rosemary felt far less playful than the tiger; any threat to a lone wolf always threatened their survival. She lived alone, in the midst of monsters and away from her family, for long enough to instinctively fall to defensive tactics if not outright fleeing. Quickly she rose to her paws, leveling a glare now that she put a fair bit of distance between the them – only to see him grinning back at her. He ruined her hunt and attacked her back, just for a game? How rude.

Usually, Rosemary fled at the first sign of aggression – she had to, for survival, with her poor combat training. But this was the beach, where she literally stood ankles deep in her element. The water witch thrived with the sea at her back; if it were a rock behind her, she’d feel cornered. But here, in this place, she knew she could defend herself.

Sea foam pooled at her paws, tendrils of water spiraling up around her as the seawater converged towards her. The ocelot’s four blue eyes locked onto the tiger, plainly annoyed. “Really? Really, that’s my lunch!” she growled, flexing her claws as one water whip snapped towards his face, attempting to whip on his nose. She used that as a distraction, trying to quickly summon her knife and octopus towards her with telekinesis before he could notice to intercept. “The hell’d you do that for?” she added, for good measure, forked tail lashing behind her – the water tendrils conveniently moving out of its path before it could collide with them.

He smelled like the Typhoon, too, and that made her angrier. She’d recognize the stench of her home anywhere, and it came as an unpleasant surprise to smell that on the wind. Rosemary ran out of the place and hadn’t looked back – not to say that she hadn’t regretted the decision, because she had. But she didn’t want to face the memories or any of her family that remained there.

waded through the spirits like a flood on the floor

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SHE PUSHED THE WATER INSIDE

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[Whisper]

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BOY KING

"take me into your heart , accept me as your savior nail me to the fucking cross and let me be reborn" — an antagonist with a silver tongue , a pirate with nothing to loose and everything to gain . vaas montenegro ; he who lives to fight demons should be weary he himself does not become one ." it's not like i am fucking crazy — "

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Selfish - vaas was a selfish thing . vicious and brutal and cared only for himself. It showed in the way he abandoned his family, left them in the jungle and joined the lime lite they could not reach. He structured a wall around himself, and let few others in , it was dangerous - vaas was now on his own; even with a clan backing him - alone. But vaas was a crafty devil - convinced he didn't need anyone, at least not yet. High on his Independence, a perfect mix for the perfect fall.

the successful attack did in fact, help boost his ego a little more. Prey had always fallen easy, dumb creatures falling for his wit and speed, but a stronger? Someone with their own thoughts, their own strengths and weaknesses? Vaas was eager for a fight, for an enemy, and he wasn't lying when he said he was excited to meet this stranger- to find them hunting in his home- his island?

His culture was very welcoming, and known for lending a hand, though the typhoon wasn't known for being the most welcoming to strangers. Vaas mixed the two, he will defend and watch strangers avidly, but he will not harm them. at least, not with any malice or desire to kill. Rosemary was unfortunately the first victim to the tiger's antics. thankfully too, because for now, he had little idea what to do to get rosemary to leave.

anyway.

water whips , lands sqarely on the tiger's nose. Vaas flinches and moves to rub his noes, the excited grin on his expression falling short at the dull throb. "Joder!" spanish is not easy to bend into his accent, a language he as only recently deciphered in books. His tongue feels clumsy,and as first impressions go, not well. He looks at the stranger a reproachful gaze, not hateful, like the stranger seems to glare at him. More of a pout, the giant scar that slices through his left eye, does him little favors with the current look.

four eyes , forked tail. water.

wow, he sure knew how to pick his battles.

"You should keep a fucking eye out. Out here it's easy to steal from a loner." Vaas spat back with the same amount of venom in his tone. One paw resting lightly on his noes, he watched the other levitate her food back towards herself, a quirk in his brow at the sight. Sea witch? A powerful one if they were flaunting their power so openly- confident. His green eyes scrutinized the stranger. "Fuck, this is crazy "

"A water witch, 'ere i thought my ma was just sprouting shit." He shook his head, smiling softer, kinder, but no less excited That's nice, real fuckin nice. How long have you been a... practitioner?

[ROSEMARY]

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Pleased the attack landed, the ocelot grinned – but the light didn’t reach her eyes quite right, as she watched the stranger tend to his nose. He looked cuter without that cocky smirk across his muzzle, but Rosemary wasn’t dumb enough to let her guard down after he just ran into her. Eying him carefully, with the salt water moving around her paws, the ocelot continued to grin as went from spitting venom to genuine excitement.

And she blinked, not expecting that reaction from him. Rarely did anyone call her a witch, at least in the Typhoon or Rosebloods, so to hear him call her that surprised her – especially since he spoke with interest and rattling off an odd compliment. Much as she thought differently, she preened at the attention; her talents were hardly ever complimented or even mentioned. The only people that appreciated her skills knew her as the group’s medic, and even they only thanked her after they got themselves in a stupid scuffle.

“I am no loner. I’m third in command of the Rosebloods,” she answered him first, a bit miffed that he called her a loner. And she remembered, from living in the Typhoon, how the two groups used to be allies before Pincher broke off the alliance – she wasn’t sure whether the pirates’ tempers cooled on that matter after her brother stepped down, but she was willing to gamble on that. “I’m Rosemary Roux. And I’ve been a water witch since I was born, practically. My mother and her mother and so on all belonged to the same familial coven,” she explained, leaving out all the grisly details.

Like how they all performed rituals once they knew they were pregnant, to kill off their sons in the womb. Or how nearly all of them suffered from one of the hereditary mental illnesses that ran in their line. Or how Rosemary, despite being one of the most magically powerful and least afflicted by ‘insanity,’ was cast out for going against their ways. Despite her situation, Rosemary still felt pride to belong to the family – much as how she still felt pride to wear the Roux family name, even if she doubted much of them would tolerate her treason if they knew.

Levitating the octopus’s eight legs in front of her, her main eyes remained on the tiger as she looked for the best piece with the other pair. “Octopus is best eaten shortly after it’s killed – would you like some? Perhaps you can entertain me with what you know about water witches in return,” she suggested, clearly a bit too charmed by his interest.

waded through the spirits like a flood on the floor

[align=center]

SHE PUSHED THE WATER INSIDE

© LEXASPERATED

[Whisper]

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BOY KING

"take me into your heart , accept me as your savior nail me to the fucking cross and let me be reborn" — an antagonist with a silver tongue , a pirate with nothing to loose and everything to gain . vaas montenegro ; he who lives to fight demons should be weary he himself does not become one ." it's not like i am fucking crazy — "

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The clan that housed him hadcertain characters there had made him weary, but non had stood out as an obvious threat. if anything, most of them looked outwards at threats. Looked to different clans, looked to places that attacked simply without mercy, or, hell for some skewed form of devotion. Vaas' own theory on it was something to be pushed aside for later, until one came knocking on their door, it wasn't something to worry about.

facing one was a little different, at least rosemary seemed to have no clear intentions of harming him beside a clear defense. If anything it made the tiger think of the perspective, who really were the aggressors in this fewd? a small sign was pointing another way, and for the moment- just for now, he will take it into stride.

"even more then," Vaas spoke, his tone returning to a slightly more cheery tone, a simulacra of a jolly fellow to hide cunning behind. Not always used, mind you, but present to catalog. "loner lands does not follow the same rules as your clan does" here, his tone took a more questing tone "doesn't it?" weither they caught on to what he was meaning, was another matter.

Clan relations never bothered him, he felt a duty to it, sure. But these obligations were easy to push away, as a newcomer he could excuse the lack of knowledge, and a meeting of an enema so close to their border- close enough; would effeminately be something the clan leader would want to know, but, would he tell? That was another question. If she could entertain him well enough, he saw no reason to report a friendly chat that could in well be among what could be a loner.

The little bit that she allowed to share to him was a manner of pride, if the other's lack of reluctance in telling it, either way the native took it all in stride, humming noncommittally at the other's words, feasting on the knowledge, taking in the name of this stranger- rosemary. Instantly vaas' mind gave her the nickname aurora. If for anything than the juxtapose that the rosemary seemed to emit. Strong, capable, and bold. Utterly ruthless, he was sure she'd hate to know the princess that vaas had now named her after, but there would be another time to speak this. As his ears prickled with the invitation that the rose blood gave him.

His eyes landed on the food in spoken of, smile on his features fading if a little bit out of surprise to the invitation. Here he thought he would just pester her until she left, but proven that she thought he was worthwhile to keep around. Feelings mutual then, at least. "in my home, tigers are known for our attributes similar to the earth, stubborn, willful, and resolute." he lets it hang. Home, not clan, words hold power, and he likes to keep some form of unpredictability, if his next words speak anything of him. "My sister has control over the earth, my mother, the wood." He has no powers of his own, at least none that he personally knows. He has been looked down on because of it, belittled- and it angered him, angers him now to remember, the slight simmer of rage disappears  under a cheerful smile, but it isn't forgotten, only a reminder.

"everyone's got their own little shtick with their own powers. " and maybe that anger burns a little too closely in his words, but marble it is little business of a stranger. "is levitation a part of yours, or of another root entirely?" still he nods off to the invitation, sitting down among the beach, the look of the perfect gentlemen despite the earlier actions showing- proving otherwise.