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       #Post#: 1107--------------------------------------------------
       || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 6, 2024, 7:43 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ae/ac/85/aeac85e3b9256cee9619ffed8930fa25.jpghttps://i.pinimg.com/564x/e3/18/26/e318266f1af9fed0d72d51256357fcf6.jpg
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       [glow=black,2,300][font=georgia]Malekith Silverfang
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  ɪᴛ'ꜱ
       ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴ
       ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ
       ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ
       ɪɴ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ɪ
       ꜰᴇᴇʟ
       ᴘᴏᴜʀɪɴɢ
       ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ
       ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ
       ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ
       ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ
       ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ, ɴᴏ
       ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ
       ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴀ
       ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ. ɴᴏ ɪ
       ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ
       ʀᴇꜱɪꜱᴛ
       ᴛʜɪꜱ
       ᴍᴇᴛᴀᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴏꜱɪꜱ
       ɴᴏᴡ.     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       It was happening again. The dissonance that seemed to settle
       over the familiar places forever changing them, or rather it was
       Mal who was changing, making these places in once he found
       comfort foreign, almost alien to him. It happened in Yarrow
       after the incident, every time he rounded a corner to the
       library expecting to see an old friend only to be met with an
       empty chair in his place. Or the way no matter how he scrubbed
       the floor boards of his room at the Nymph's Song Mal couldn't
       escape the smell of iron that seemed to seep up through them in
       the night marring his dreams with terrors of the blood he had
       spilled. Her blood.
       The same feeling followed him upon returning to his childhood
       home, seeing it's weary structure chained and boarded shut. A
       haunted house holding no warmth or comfort, all that remained
       was a reminder was a rack-shambled monument of suffering and
       ghosts he hardly recognized. It was beginning to feel as though
       a shadow of misfortune had followed him from that place
       throughout his life manifesting in the mutual destruction of all
       he touched, everything he loved was stained by the blood on his
       hands. Blood of the family he couldn't protect, blood of the
       friends he lay waste to along the way, blood of the lovers who
       dared to get too close, the question that yet remained is who
       would be next if not him?
       The lack of company made his thoughts loud, their echo
       inescapable as he trudged onward reflecting as he settled into
       his new found discomfort for his surroundings. The Maw, a place
       he had once revered as a haven; somewhere he had run away to to
       forget his troubles and give in to the whims of his better
       judgment. In the past it had been a place of healing in a way
       for him after his sister's passing, a singular escape as he
       reinvented himself; this was the true birthplace of Maliketh
       Silverfang.
       Turns out it was really difficult to reinvent yourself in five
       years time, but it sure had been easy to lose sight of himself.
       Now wrestling with things so much bigger than himself, grander
       than anything he could of ever imagined being a part of and yet
       he still felt as though he was lying to himself. Lying to
       everyone. 'You can't lead from the back.' He had the gal to say
       that to Cirice and yet he was terrified. The way Damian looked
       to him and stated how Mal wasn't afraid of nary a thing, but how
       could he admit to his friend that he himself was petrified at
       the stakes that were staking up against them and the mistakes he
       had already made along the way. Mal simply surmised that to be
       brave one first had to be afraid, but these thoughts only
       brought him momentary comfort in a sentiment in which he had no
       one to share it with.
       His hands stuffed into the depth of his pockets idly toyed with
       the bobbles within, running his fingers about their edges trying
       to discern each in order to distract his mind as he made his way
       to finally meet with his old contact Bosco. A stray string
       tickled him, left from the last time he had repaired the seam
       that kept the contents in check. His fingers brushed against two
       pieces of platinum he had earned from Cleo and Jaryn
       respectively from shinnagins each smooth piece of metal cool to
       the touch jingled quietly against a small magical pendant he
       carried but hadn't worn since having left Yarrow. His other
       pocket housed a folded piece of fabric that he kept tucked away
       when it wasn't wrapped around his arm, the blindfold that once
       belonged to Erobas. Mal's fingers continued searching until his
       finger tips graced the rough carved totem of a small unfinished
       wooden idol of deer. It's antlers seemingly tangled around
       another small figure in the form of a bear that Meli had made
       for him. Making note of each item he centered himself going
       through the motions of calming himself with deep breaths. Not
       that he needed to anymore.
       He continued this until he reached the door of an establishment
       he once used to frequent in days gone past, it felt strange
       standing her now. Sober and clear of mind, all the rage and
       contempt he once held towards the world a fading memory of angst
       from his youth. Now he was here to seek answers and insight.
       Maybe understanding his past would help him build towards a
       better future. One could only hope. [color=red]"Guess this is
       it." He said giving the worn splintered wooden door a shove, the
       hinges giving a drunken wobble as it creaked, opening to allow
       him to step inside.
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ
       ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ,
       ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ
       ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ
       ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ
       ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ.
       ||
       #Post#: 1109--------------------------------------------------
       Re: || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 7, 2024, 10:42 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/474x/92/32/a8/9232a825a884ccfba0c8c9852909cfeb.jpg
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       [glow=black,2,300][color=black][font=georgia]Captain Boscoe
       Shoehorn
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  Snap your fingers,
       snap your neck     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       Today was low tide and the crew was feeling dandy. The weather
       had been gorgeous the last few days and the coin just kept
       rolling in. Boscoe, now wearing an ascot that was once a
       captain's hat, spent the evening with his crew, treating them to
       drinks and women to celebrate the streak of fortune they'd been
       enjoying. Settling in at the best brothel in town, Classie's,
       the boys had just gotten the party started when a sight that
       Boscoe hadn't expected to behold appeared.
       "Malekith Silverfang!" Boscoe's gruff voice bellowed out. His
       voice had the depth of a full grown bull with a weight to nearly
       match. As he strode across the embroidered carpets, the wood
       beneath them creaked in protest. Finally, without so much as a
       word otherwise, Boscoe had Mal scooped up in his arms like a
       dearly missed relative. The brawn held on Boscoe's frame
       threatened to snap a few things out of place and as the hug
       reached its apex, Mal felt a sudden memory of a bag of eels
       spring into his mind.
       As Boscoe released the crumpled man, he slapped Mal's shoulder
       with the familiarity of brothers. "So what brings you on down to
       Classie's again?" He snorted. "You gotta let me get you in with
       Lacey and I for old time's sake." Boscoe's bass driven voice
       exploded into hearty chuckles that threatened to knock over the
       fine decor that heavily lined the walls.
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    Bwomp Bwomp Bwomp Dweedle Dweedle Dweedle      ||
       #Post#: 1110--------------------------------------------------
       Re: || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 7, 2024, 11:24 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ae/ac/85/aeac85e3b9256cee9619ffed8930fa25.jpghttps://i.pinimg.com/564x/e3/18/26/e318266f1af9fed0d72d51256357fcf6.jpg
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [glow=black,2,300][font=georgia]Malekith Silverfang
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  ɪᴛ'ꜱ
       ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴ
       ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ
       ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ
       ɪɴ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ɪ
       ꜰᴇᴇʟ
       ᴘᴏᴜʀɪɴɢ
       ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ
       ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ
       ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ
       ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ
       ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ, ɴᴏ
       ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ
       ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴀ
       ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ. ɴᴏ ɪ
       ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ
       ʀᴇꜱɪꜱᴛ
       ᴛʜɪꜱ
       ᴍᴇᴛᴀᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴏꜱɪꜱ
       ɴᴏᴡ.     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       As the bull of a man compressed and contorted his frame in a
       bone creaking hug Mal felt reminded of his time in the mines of
       Veluza making his stomach curdle. Just how many time have I
       broken my bones over the last few years? Thinking back to every
       fight, everytime he rearranged parts of his body, along with
       each time he's shifted. At least now it seemed his heart had
       experienced such treatment in equal measure to the damage he had
       suffered physically, leaving him unsure of which of the two
       could possibly hurt more...
       After being released by the big lummox and bracing himself for a
       shoulder slap strong enough to knock the wind out of a
       full-grown man, Mal imparted the same in exchange; this time the
       strength behind it was greater than Boscoe remembered from the
       scrappy young lad who had run with them all those years ago and
       for the briefest of moments the Captain was sure that Maliketh
       was holding back.
       Seeing him again sent the Minotaur into a nostalgic memory,
       remembering the cocky young vamp who asked to join up. Beastkin
       weren't uncommon among crews but there still was a certain
       stigma for undead, primarily those who feed or prey on sentient
       folks and the like. With no one to back him or vouch on his
       behalf Mal had at first found it difficult to find anyone who
       was willing to set him up on their ship for work. He was more
       than willing and able but it wasn't until asking the Jade
       Knuckle Skeletons to consider it did things turn around. The
       previous captain had taken a shine too after having asked Mal
       how they could trust him not to feed on the crew and he had
       proudly stated with a huge grin plastered to his face
       proclaiming "I only feed on those I fight or I ****, so unless
       you're interested in either of those things you'll stay fang
       free!" And with that it was settled, Maliketh even going so far
       as to bed a few of the crew members that night with nary a
       complaint to be found about any blood letting.
       As the warm reunion continued and Boscoe offered up a tempting
       invitation to join in for old times sake there was a brief
       moment of reservation Boscoe had never seen expressed in his
       time having known Mal. Getting a better look at the young man's
       features it was clear to see he hadn't aged a day, and yet there
       was age beyond those short years that had separated now resting
       behind his eyes as they took in their surroundings; as if he
       were admiring something from the good old days. New scars had
       made their marks across his skin, most notably across the center
       of his face before hooking across his nose and curling down
       towards his upper lip. Tattoos accentuating two deep puncture
       scars upon his chest just below his clavicle. Scars that held
       much different tales than the merriment of his time spent in the
       maw.
       [color=red]"Good to see you again Boz." Mal said in earnest
       giving him a respectful nod but there was a bittersweetness in
       his re-connection with his old friend. "Don't threaten me with a
       good time, you'll have to give Lacey my regards... and you won't
       be able to piggyback off my discount." Mal teased sticking out
       his tongue, sidestepping an offer he normally wouldn't, giving
       away that he wasn't exactly here for pleasure.
       "If you want I can hang out and wait till your done, what'll it
       take like ten-fifteen minutes?" He chuckled instinctively
       ducking as a glowing fist that swiped at him for jesting such a
       thing. "I'm fuckin with ya, but seriously, I was hoping we could
       catch up if you got time for me." His eyes darkened a bit as if
       holding back a bit of the impending importance of the talk in
       question.
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ
       ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ,
       ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ
       ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ
       ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ
       ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ.
       ||
       #Post#: 1112--------------------------------------------------
       Re: || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 7, 2024, 12:37 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/474x/92/32/a8/9232a825a884ccfba0c8c9852909cfeb.jpg
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [glow=black,2,300][color=black][font=georgia]Captain Boscoe
       Shoehorn
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  Snap your fingers,
       snap your neck     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       For a moment, Boz could see the age settling into Mal's eyes.
       There held an immense shadow deeper than any sea he had swam in.
       With his posture changing to become more serious, Boz gave a nod
       of understanding. "No, no." He said with a motion of his hand.
       "Let's head to the bar and get a table so we can talk." There
       was a sinking feeling in Boz's gut about why Mal had shown up
       now, of all times. Clearly, Mal was carrying something heavy
       along with him and Boz doubted it was a chest full of treasure.
       It was just a chest full of heart ache.
       Boz didn't take much stock of his surroundings as he hurriedly
       made his way to the bar, stopping only to whisper in his first
       mate's ear, letting her know to kick off the party without him
       for the time being. With a stern look, the eye patch wearing
       tabaxi gave a sympathetic node before cutting some sort of joke.
       After a quick share of concerned laughter, the woman turned and
       announced that things would be getting started with a toast,
       excusing the captain without drawing too much unneeded concern.
       Boz snagged two pints from the barkeep and met Mal in a corner
       booth fitted with an encompassing curtain and a long, unoccupied
       pole at the center of the table. Motioning with patience and
       concern, Boz sat after Mal and slid a tankard of ale forward.
       "I'm guessing you aren't coming with good stories then." The
       blue bull said, worry in his voice. "I can see the hurt in your
       eyes, Mal, so what's going on and how can I help?"
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    Bwomp Bwomp Bwomp Dweedle Dweedle Dweedle      ||
       [/quote]
       #Post#: 1114--------------------------------------------------
       Re: || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 7, 2024, 1:20 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ae/ac/85/aeac85e3b9256cee9619ffed8930fa25.jpghttps://i.pinimg.com/564x/e3/18/26/e318266f1af9fed0d72d51256357fcf6.jpg
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [glow=black,2,300][font=georgia]Malekith Silverfang
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  ɪᴛ'ꜱ
       ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴ
       ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ
       ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ
       ɪɴ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ɪ
       ꜰᴇᴇʟ
       ᴘᴏᴜʀɪɴɢ
       ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ
       ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ
       ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ
       ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ
       ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ, ɴᴏ
       ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ
       ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴀ
       ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ. ɴᴏ ɪ
       ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ
       ʀᴇꜱɪꜱᴛ
       ᴛʜɪꜱ
       ᴍᴇᴛᴀᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴏꜱɪꜱ
       ɴᴏᴡ.     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       Mal was so fatigued with the notion of dancing around stuff or
       playing stupid anymore. The notion that Boz was willing to get
       right to the heart of the matter felt refreshing to Mal despite
       his reservations about broaching such a topic. This sh!t sucked,
       but there simply wasn't a better approach to take in such a
       request. Downing the tankard that had been placed down in front
       of him before giving a hearty sniff, his posture slumping into
       the corner booth just as he had done countless times before in
       the past.
       [color=red]"Jade knuckles don't ask, don't tell. I think that's
       why I was meant to find you lot when I did back then... lotta
       folks in the Maw are busy running from something after all." As
       Mal spoke it felt as thought his words were coming from
       somewhere of significance. Somewhere that held a heaviness that
       made him careful with his choices before he spoke. "Truth is, I
       think some of our past has some wires crossed down the way and
       I'm hoping you can enlighten me on that." As Mal's hand slipped
       into his jacket tossing a small piece of folded parchment
       between him and Boscoe, opening it to reveal the charcoal
       rubbings of the report on an event referred to as "Ursa Major"
       including the mention of the captains name. [Color=red]"So I was
       hoping you could tell me why your name is listed on a guild
       missive responsible for killing my parents."[/color] There was a
       dangerous flicker in the mans eyes as he stared across the table
       at his friend, waiting patiently as if deciding on whether he
       should lash out at not. A great deal of resolve and restraint
       had seemed to have changed this once reckless man known to fight
       first and ask questions never.
       "Tell me everything you know."
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ
       ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ,
       ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ
       ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ
       ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ
       ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ.
       ||
       #Post#: 1116--------------------------------------------------
       Re: || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 7, 2024, 4:45 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/474x/92/32/a8/9232a825a884ccfba0c8c9852909cfeb.jpg
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [glow=black,2,300][font=georgia]Captain Boscoe Shoehorn
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  Snap your fingers,
       snap your neck     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       A grim realization played over Boscoe's features. "I see." He
       said with a deadly weight. His hand flapped the parchment,
       further illuminating the words on the page. "It's about that is
       it?" Boz gave a look of understanding as he placed the scroll
       onto the table, focusing only on what words to say. "I never
       dared to ask if it really was you."
       Boz had a grim look of despair as he looked onto Mal with new
       eyes. Eyes that knew the truth. "I always thought this would get
       to stay unsaid." The captain said, his voice as steady as a
       windless sea. As the captain shifted uncomfortably, he suddenly
       halted, a look of even greater shame covered his features. With
       his ears held back apologetically, Boz continued.
       "Before you hear the whole of it, I've got something to ask you
       first." As Boz spoke, his look of regret intensified as he
       reached across the table, hovering over it with the control of a
       killer. A pistol, brandished from under Boscoe's coat stood
       pointed directly at Mal's forehead. A look of pure devastation
       soaked into Boz's furry muzzle which happened to contradict how
       coolly he was holding his weapon. If Mal tried anything, he
       wouldn't hesitate to paint the walls with his blood.
       "[color=teal]Why did you come here?"
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    Bwomp Bwomp Bwomp Dweedle Dweedle Dweedle      ||
       #Post#: 1117--------------------------------------------------
       Re: || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 7, 2024, 5:06 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ae/ac/85/aeac85e3b9256cee9619ffed8930fa25.jpghttps://i.pinimg.com/564x/e3/18/26/e318266f1af9fed0d72d51256357fcf6.jpg
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [glow=black,2,300][font=georgia]Malekith Silverfang
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  ɪᴛ'ꜱ
       ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴ
       ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ
       ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ
       ɪɴ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ɪ
       ꜰᴇᴇʟ
       ᴘᴏᴜʀɪɴɢ
       ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ
       ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ
       ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ
       ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ
       ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ, ɴᴏ
       ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ
       ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴀ
       ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ. ɴᴏ ɪ
       ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ
       ʀᴇꜱɪꜱᴛ
       ᴛʜɪꜱ
       ᴍᴇᴛᴀᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴏꜱɪꜱ
       ɴᴏᴡ.     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       At this Mal simply smiled, gently raising his hands above his
       shoulders in a submissive sign before relaxing again as if
       unbothered by Boscoe's change in demeanor. He certainly wasn't
       afraid of guns anymore, the two healing scars upon his abdomen
       were testaments to that. He expected as much coming here, he
       knew this was always a possibility when cornering an animal they
       had a tendency to bare their teeth. Mal's eyes met Boscoe's
       knowing damn well he wouldn't of drawn that weapon without the
       intent to kill him, but it was smart to be protective of ones
       self. Self preservation was important out in a place like this.
       [color=red]"I ain't here to kill ya Boz, I'm just looking to
       hear all sides so I can help keep sh!t like that from happening
       to somebody else..." The boy sounded tired though he was smiling
       softly, a certain sadness behind his eyes. Mal lulled his head
       back slightly ignoring the trained weapon aimed at him, keeping
       his movements slow and relaxed. "Turns out I really like helpin'
       folks, I think I may even be getting good at it now. Wishin'
       there had been someone who cared like that back then..." There
       was a soft mistiness to his eye as he starred upward at the
       ceiling waiting to hear the gunman's response remaining as still
       as a statue.
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ
       ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ,
       ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ
       ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ
       ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ
       ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ.
       ||
       #Post#: 1118--------------------------------------------------
       Re: || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 7, 2024, 6:18 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/474x/92/32/a8/9232a825a884ccfba0c8c9852909cfeb.jpg
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [glow=black,2,300][color=black][font=georgia]Captain Boscoe
       Shoehorn
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  Snap your fingers,
       snap your neck     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       Boscoe gave a sigh of relief but didn't lose the tension in his
       shoulders and arms. "I need you to know that I've got people who
       depend on me now, I need to take care of them before I right
       things from my past." The minotaur's eyes were glistening with
       tears before he quickly dropped his arm down, away from Mal. "I
       really didn't want it to come to this, but I figured the guild
       would send someone someday."
       Boz slowly leaned back, ensuring Mal was kept directly in his
       line of sight while he did so. "I'm sorry you had to find out
       from someone other than me. I had long since thought this book
       was closed and I could go on being something other than a
       monster in your mind. It seems your employers have a different
       plan though." He said, motioning to Mal's Guild badge. "Makes
       sense they'd send you though, you would have the most reason to
       come track me down." In fact, Boz hadn't ever been sure if the
       guild knew anything had happened there at all or if it all just
       got swept under the rug. Either way, he had gotten sick of
       waiting for his death sentence years ago, assuming his life
       wasn't even worth taking in their eyes.
       Had Jaryn put Mal on this path to force a confrontation with
       Boscoe? If that was his plan, what would that prove now? To
       finally tie up a loose end he wanted to disappear? He wouldn't
       have even been a guild master back when Mal's family was killed
       so what did it matter to him anyway? The questions began
       building up within Boz before he finally couldn't stand the
       building pressure.
       "I used to run with the guild too." Boscoe said with a sigh. The
       news itself wasn't revelatory, most Guild dropouts ended up
       working as Privateers in the maw, however, his next words were
       shocking. "I am the only one left after what happened there."
       Boz said, his mighty breath holding the faintest quiver. He had
       a haunted look as he focused on the flame of a nearby candle,
       reliving the horrors he witnessed silently to himself before
       beginning to share.
       All of the bravado Boz had shown before had vanished, it was as
       if the memories alone were draining the vitality and will from
       him. The man seemed to deflate more with each passing moment.
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    Bwomp Bwomp Bwomp Dweedle Dweedle Dweedle      ||
       [/quote]
       #Post#: 1120--------------------------------------------------
       Re: || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 7, 2024, 7:04 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ae/ac/85/aeac85e3b9256cee9619ffed8930fa25.jpghttps://i.pinimg.com/564x/e3/18/26/e318266f1af9fed0d72d51256357fcf6.jpg
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [glow=black,2,300][font=georgia]Malekith Silverfang
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  ɪᴛ'ꜱ
       ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴ
       ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ
       ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ
       ɪɴ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ɪ
       ꜰᴇᴇʟ
       ᴘᴏᴜʀɪɴɢ
       ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ
       ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ
       ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ
       ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ
       ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ, ɴᴏ
       ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ
       ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴀ
       ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ. ɴᴏ ɪ
       ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ
       ʀᴇꜱɪꜱᴛ
       ᴛʜɪꜱ
       ᴍᴇᴛᴀᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴏꜱɪꜱ
       ɴᴏᴡ.     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       [color=red]"My parents had people who were depending on them too
       Boz... no one gave them the same consideration in the matter."
       Mal spoke his words held a decisive heaviness as he unclipped
       the badge pinned to his jacket, setting down the emblem on the
       table between them as a show of good faith. [Color=red]"This is
       all me. I came because I wanted to hear the truth from you.
       Someone I considered a comrade, a confidant and friend. So how
       about you share a story with me for old times sake, just the two
       of us and tell me what really happened."[/color] The man calmly
       leaned forward as if expectantly awaiting the man to share in
       his side. Letting the silence hang for a while longer between
       them, an orange aura shining out as it engulfed the table making
       a zone of truth around them. This time the answers were so close
       he could almost taste them, not that it could change the past...
       but maybe he could find a way to shake free the final chains
       that held him tethered to yet another mystery about himself.
       Slowly stripping them away one at a time, the only way to avoid
       becoming a monster himself was to face the trials that had lead
       others down such perilous paths.
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    ᴡᴇ ᴀʟʟ
       ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ
       ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ,
       ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ
       ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ
       ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ
       ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ.
       ||
       #Post#: 1121--------------------------------------------------
       Re: || Ursa Major ||
   DIR By: WickedOne
       Date: November 7, 2024, 8:06 pm
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [center]
  HTML https://i.pinimg.com/474x/92/32/a8/9232a825a884ccfba0c8c9852909cfeb.jpg
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [glow=black,2,300][color=black][font=georgia]Captain Boscoe
       Shoehorn
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]||  Snap your fingers,
       snap your neck     ||
       ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
       [color=black][font=georgia]
       Boz gave a reluctant nod, not quite willing to let his guard
       down though. For some reason, something was keeping him from
       completely believing Mal's good intentions. It was as if
       something was hanging over him but it was impossible to say
       what. "Alright." He croaked, smacking his lips to keep them from
       going dry.
       "It must have been twenty or so years now. I was a young hunter
       looking to get my clan, a group of my friends that grew up with
       me in Yarrow, some real recognition. Hell, we wanted to reach
       platinum rank like there was no tomorrow. For a while, we did
       pretty good but we wound up having to move on from Yarrow,
       knowing damn well all the legends were made outside the
       protective walls of the city." Boz waved another tankard over
       for Mal and himself, taking a hefty swig before continuing. His
       voice still felt dry with death.
       "We packed our bags and started traveling toward the Mistwood.
       We spent time working smaller guild jobs along the way." There
       was a fondness in Boz's eyes as he continued, relishing in the
       sweetness of days long gone. "You know how it is, right? You
       start heading somewhere but you get side tracked with bullsh!t
       somewhere along the way. Hell, we were lucky we remembered where
       we were headed by the end of that trip." A lone tear crawled
       into Boz's light fur, turning it a mournful gray color. "But we
       did remember, and finally, after about two years worth of side
       questin', we were in Holden. We became quick celebrities there,
       in just a few weeks, we never paid for food or drink and we all
       had offers for marriage. Nobody had ever taken time to establish
       a helpful guild presence that close to the Mistwood before,
       given how superstitious city folk are. As much as those times
       were grand, we eventually began craving a bigger job, a bigger
       break."
       The minotaur took another, long swallow from his ale, finally
       feeling the numbing effects of the alcohol. "Not more than a few
       days passed before we got passed along some info. Apparently,
       some wealthy merchants from Yarrow were venturing into the
       Mistwood as some sort of risky business venture. They never
       checked in with their contact in the wood so they eventually got
       around to looking into things. That was when reports came in
       about what was apparently a gristly attack on a caravan. Reports
       were riddled with similar testimonies describing animal-like
       claw marks and a survivor being taken alive by the creature that
       launched the attack." He shook his head. "We knew it was our big
       break, we were going to be the one's to take down the monster
       and save everyone. Then we would be the heroes we set out to
       become at long last."
       Boz's expression grew darker as he continued his tale. "We never
       thought it would be some one not some thing. So when we found
       out it was a druid, we had an important choice to make..." His
       voice trailed off as he stifled more tears. "And we made the
       wrong choice." His eyes were heavy with regret. Even though he
       didn't say it, Mal knew what Boz meant.
       They decided to hunt down his mother knowing that she was
       actually a rogue druid. They were going to kill Mal's mother and
       pass her off as just another angry monster.
       They would have been heroes, had things gone according to plan.
       To Mal, it was hard to tell if the regret in Boz's eyes was
       because of their decision to hunt his mother, or that they
       failed to get the fame they set out to. "We didn't know she had
       a family..." Boz muttered, snapping Mal out of his disbelief. An
       uneasy silence hung in the air as Boz added to his words. "...
       but she knew we did, and that's why she offered us to the bloody
       thing in the moon." Boz's eyes stared off, vacantly as he
       recounted his deepest trauma.
       "We were no match for her." Boz muttered, fear crinkling the
       features in his face. "Even as we begged for mercy, she tore us
       apart, again and again. We prayed for it to end but nobody heard
       our cries for help, so she had her way with us until she got
       everything she needed from us." Boz's chest began rapidly
       rising, it was as if his heart were trying to leap from his
       chest. The world around him became blurry as he went on, unable
       to form complete sentences.
       "She melded us together and forced us to fight. Over and over...
       We could never die.... our suffering... it was fuel for the
       ritual we were given to." Tears were flooding down the man's
       fuzzy cheeks. His eyes were somewhere else now, far away from
       the booth in the brothel. Boz was taken to a place so heinous,
       he could barely stomach beholding.
       "... In the end, our entire bloodlines... withered away, cut off
       from the afterlife and their souls made forfeit to the queen
       beneath the moon. The Bleeeeding One!" Boz's features became
       drenched in an abyssal dread Mal immediately recognized. A
       powerful type of magic bound into one's blood, just like
       Damien's cursed blood. Boz suddenly jolted, shooting his arm out
       toward Mal. His movements were faster than even someone of his
       level of training, it was as if he was being possessed by
       something else.
       With Boz's touch, Mal was brought to the minotaur's mind, seeing
       what he saw, feeling what he felt. It was horrifying. The act of
       flesh crafting performed under a blood red moon, writhing with
       infestation beneath it's decaying skin. Boz and his friends were
       sculpted in grotesque ways and manipulated into killing one
       another while being disallowed to truly die. The loop over
       visions was almost too much as Mal pulled himself away. He could
       still hear the echoes of the screaming inside of Boz's mind. It
       seemed something sealed away deep within Boz had been awoken,
       what this meant of Boz's fate, however, didn't bode well.
       [size=10pt][color=black]----------------------------------------------------------------------------[font=georgia][size=11pt]
       ||    Bwomp Bwomp Bwomp Dweedle Dweedle Dweedle      ||
       *****************************************************
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