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#Post#: 1107--------------------------------------------------
|| Ursa Major ||
DIR By: WickedOne
Date: November 6, 2024, 7:43 pm
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[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
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[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. ||
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[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
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[glow=black,2,300][color=black][font=georgia]Captain Boscoe
Shoehorn
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[color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]|| Snap your fingers,
snap your neck ||
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[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
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[center]
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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]
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
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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]
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
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[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]
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
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[center]
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[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
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[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
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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]
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.
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|| Bwomp Bwomp Bwomp Dweedle Dweedle Dweedle ||
[/quote]
#Post#: 1120--------------------------------------------------
Re: || Ursa Major ||
DIR By: WickedOne
Date: November 7, 2024, 7:04 pm
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[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
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[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. ||
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[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.
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|| 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
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[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
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[color=black][font=georgia][size=11pt]|| Snap your fingers,
snap your neck ||
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[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.
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|| Bwomp Bwomp Bwomp Dweedle Dweedle Dweedle ||
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