[ we must be made of glass ] - open

[daniel]

Storms. Danny had an uncanny ability to either track them down, or have them track him down at the worst times. Maybe it was intentional, he didn't know. Perhaps he would ask Goldenluxury if that was a thing, if storms were some sort of signal or sign. She seemed to know the sea. He didn't. The storms and sea was sort of...not a fan of him, he avoided it for a while. Bad place to avoid that, granted, but he still managed. It was storming the day he was lost and taken in, and it appeared a storm very similar had been brewing overhead at the end of his rise. That sounded morbid, he wasn't going to die. But it was interesting to have a new raging storm when he was now a Captain of the crew who had to take care of him and pull him out from under a table.

Danny had left the letter preceding Vayne's official inquiry about the two of them being together was still laying neatly near his bed, but had left nothing else in that empty home of his. Everything else was removed, what little there was, everything from things he collected over time he thought was interesting, the chain carrying the pendants from a day long past, and most importantly, the entwined tusks he had earned from his Coalition adventures. It was probably wrong to discard something that carried so much weight, as if he was running from his sins, but he was also running from his past, from his hurt. New beginnings, or maybe preparing for the end. And he'd like to end off just him. Just Danny. Nothing else, no one else.

So, as the storm raged overhead, and the waves were growing violent and restless, the young Captain stood upon the sands and finally faced the very thing that was almost responsible for his creation, more or less. The wind whipped through his fur and the water soaked him to the bone yet again. But he wasn't so petrified this time around. His paw lifted into the sky, and he flung the pieces of jewelry through the air and into the sea. There was hardly a splash, rather the rough waters engulfed them totally, like feeding a beast. The rest of his belongings followed suit, until all that was left on his person was the darling little seashell bracelet Vayne had created just for him, and the golden hoop through his ear.

Of course, he had to be a a little extra, as a treat, and spat into the salty waves, while lightning suddenly split the sky. Life would need to try a little harder to take him out, he guessed.

[milks0da]

If we're not supposed to dance

Then why all the music?

Stories. Everyone had a story. And most of the good ones involve one of two things. Explosions, of course, and storms.
In their days out, without a group, Wanderer enjoyed quite a few storms under thee open sky. Some say that they wash away all that needs to be gone. Things like pain, sorrow, guilt, want - and worse things yet in love. Others say they give. Give what, changed from story teller to story teller, but usually life. To the grass, to pelts. 'The rain from storms clear wounds,' a blurry face has once told her, 'they take what needs to be let go, and in turn, ripens the earth with it's memories.' Wanderer thought they were signifiers. They set the sky ablaze and shook the Earth to remind the people's below them that they were mortal; and that they need to go kick butt and do what they need to do before they die - because they will.

And so, always in search of a story, Wanderer had left the Tavern and took to wandering - how very unlike me - and soon, well. They found something. Something promising.

"Well," Wanderer greeted, eyebrows raised in equal parts amusement and curiosity as they studied the black dog before them. "Looks like the sea's a whole wardrobe richer."
They glanced out to the churning waves, watching how they melded with and pulled at the sky.

Storms were nothing but a promise. A promise of a story - and Wanderer was intrigued.

Oh no

Hope nothing intresting happens to me

template by orion

[VAYNE CIPHER-VANTAS.]

[glow=white,1,400]LIKE WE FORGET WHO WE CAN TRUST ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

TRIGGER WARNING: this post talks about an abusive mother as well as manipulation tactics in the first paragraph

Vayne's own story was not one of happiness, not at first. The she-cat was born to a rather abusive mother, one who believed she was above everyone else and thought she deserved things to get handed to her. She had even convinced Vayne and her littermates that The Typhoon hated all of them, when in reality it had just been Aphra, and growing up Vayne had been very confused when the Roux family treated her well as opposed to treating them like outcasts like Aphra had said. When Aphra had taken her away, she tried to convinced Vayne that they were better off on their own, but Vayne fled back to The Typhoon - and they protected her. Diya and Roxanne had even adopted her.

Storms were common with The Typhoon, though Vayne didn't experience any that were particularly life threatening; she had been born a few months after The Typhoon experienced a massive tsunami, but perhaps had she been there for that, she would have been more wary of the tides. Vayne came up to Danny, pressing against her boyfriend until she heard the Wanderer's words. She giggled a bit, finding the comment funny, "I suppose it is." She purred. "I haven't seen you around though, what's your name? I'm Vayne Cipher-Folie-Mikaelson. Dealer here." It felt odd not to say Privateer but it did give her a sense of pride.[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[milks0da]

If we're not supposed to dance

Then why all the music?

Names. Weird things. For as long as they could remember, it was a right they did not have privy too.
Wanderer went by many things. Titles, mostly, like Wanderer. Sometimes descriptions like 'dragon' and 'long one' were also used a while ago when they didn't care too much and they could lie easily. Say their parents - they must have parents right?- were eccentric, a bit too much if you asked them, and had named them something brain emptying stupid for a kick. In reality, that memory was long lost. They had no family, no memories, no name to call their own. To give themselves a name felt cheap. Unearned. And so did the grief of these things that were never theirs.
And that's why, when the nice she-cat - Vayne Cipher-Folie-Mikaelson - asked Wanderer that question, they lied.
"Loveletter, no fancy last name." They smiled, studying her a second. They weren't sure wither or not to add a title as they were technically a traveler. She just happened to stay in the Typhoons before heading out for months at a time, and she doubted that really gave her any title other then 'wanderer' so they didn't provide the information. Instead, they tilted their head.
"Dealer, huh? Like over at a casino?" She questioned, her tail giving a wag. "That sounds fun.

Oh no

Hope nothing intresting happens to me

template by orion

[VAYNE CIPHER-VANTAS.]

[glow=white,1,400]LIKE WE FORGET WHO WE CAN TRUST ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

"Nice t' meet ya, Loveletter." Vayne chirped as a response, letting out a small laugh at the dog-dragon's question. "Nah, not at the casino. It's just a high rank that means I'm the head of the Blackjack Rats - one of our Divisions here." She explained. "Soothslayer is the head of the Necro Mambas, and Officer is the head of the Grim Rays."[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[daniel]

Danny jumped at the voice of another, not prepared for conversation with any of the newer faces he had yet to formerly introduce himself to. It had been a busy week, or so that was his excuse so he could continue to not admit to his social anxiety verbally. It wouldn't be hard to pick up on it, however, or so he assumed given how others in the past figured that out real quick. New faces, new people, less who had to know that was a giant nervous dweeb.

"It can k-keep it." Danny responded, frowning at the rolling waves that had swallowed up the things he had thrown into them. There was no coming back from that, but that was sort of the point. Not wanting them back. He shivered, unsure if it was from the cold itself, or the thought of what lied beneath the rough waters. It wasn't pleasant of a thought, that was for sure. Though he finally managed to relax a little, feeling Vayne's fur against his own, tail moving to curl around her side, as if to protect her against the cold he was suddenly very aware of. Loveletter, huh? It had a nice ring to it. "Name's Danny." He debated, then finally offered his name as well, though he didn't carry any last name to offer either.