Author Topic: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]  (Read 475 times)

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Offline Lucius`

  • Tortuga
  • Initiate
  • ***
  • Posts: 6
  • there is no war upon the bay
  • Liked: 9
  • Likes Given: 1
hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« on: January 18, 2017, 02:15:10 PM »
Warm.

Everything was warm.

It was a startling contrast. So different from the cruel chill of the harsh howling winds…

There was no striking sound of roaring storms, no thunderous screech as nature emptied her rage over his back and beat him down with her fury, with her betrayal. Only soft sands and softer sounds, an ambiance unlike any he’d ever heard. It was enough to make his bleary gaze—which, at first, struggled to focus as heavy lids cracked painfully open—narrow in mild concern. What happened? Where was he? Why was he on his back with nothing but the wondrous open blue skies and the cry of the beasts that dwelled within them?

This was not his manor. This was not the shadow struck construct he’d taken as his quarters nor did he smell the sickening stench of rot and meat that often occupied the treacherous deck of his turf.

No, this was not Albania. This was not home.

Adrenaline pumped through his limbs created and dispersed through a rapidly thudding heart. He took one deep breath then another before he rolled over onto his belly all the while ignoring the ache that gnawed at the base of his spine. Up. Up. Up—his mind droned onward until twitching legs settled beneath him and his bulk rose to a shaky stand.

Well, they were still there, his functional body, and with tail curled against his back he parted his muzzle to pant with wild anxiety.

Where was his crew? That piss-poor lot of licentious meat-bags that were only as worthy as the flesh they were willing to strip off their own bodies? Where was his impressive structure of glory? Of importance? Where…. was he?

Lucius snarled, muzzle wrinkled in grotesque twist as his sickly gaze of yellow trembled with the weight of his disgust. Now he remembered. He remembered the violence—so precious and pleasing—the screams of the betrayers, with their filthy sense of morality and misguided light-hearted views… and the storm, and the shove—

And now this. Him. Wet and trembling on the shore.

Great.

i'm pulling my weight
in
gold
call me anxious, call me broke
i can't lift this on my own

#ffd740

Offline Yuri.

  • Tortuga
  • Regular
  • ***
  • Posts: 117
  • Liked: 34
  • Likes Given: 7
Re: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« Reply #1 on: January 18, 2017, 03:12:53 PM »
There was a stranger on their beach.

The stench was unmistakable, and for a few seconds, Yuri wondered when he had become so accustomed to the smell of Tortuga. He had been the stranger once; the trespasser. Who was he now? That would be a philosophical internal debate for another day, because, now, he had a job to do. Some drowned-rat had washed up - did the Watchmen even patrol here? He wouldn't be surprised if they didn't. No one exactly expected strangers to appear, crawling, from the shallows. That wasn't where wolves came from. But with some luck, they'd be on their way, if their noses were anything as keen as his.

The little whirlwind came charging, rending a path through the sand as tiny paws carried him easily over the beach. He was upon the newcomer in seconds. The fool was on his back, like a stuck beetle, and it exposed his belly to the sky, and to the Bombardier's teeth. It would have been the perfect position for the coyote to shear into his sensitive abdomen, but as the coyote closed in on him, the newcomer rolled over, wobbling onto his feet. Instead, then, the warrior opened his jaws, aiming to crash them into the male's shoulder. He looked unsteady - if the knock hit its target and was enough to send the man toppling again, Yuri would be upon him in seconds, aiming a bite to his neck, but not to squeeze, not to throttle. Just to hold steady.

If his bite did not find purchase, or did not do its job of knocking the stranger over, he would spring back, putting himself out of harm's way, skittering up a few clouds of sand in his wake, upper lip curling into a snarl and his head lowering. Regardless of his end position, he would utter the same words.

"You're on Tortugan land. Give me your name."

A demand.









a singular definition
of what it's supposed to be like
an arrogant principle of validation
you're pushing the masochism
we're never to question the hive
i'll be the nemesis of expectation

PLAYED BY TEDDY

Offline Hebe

  • Tortuga
  • Apprentice
  • ***
  • Posts: 96
  • Liked: 15
  • Likes Given: 0
Re: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« Reply #2 on: January 18, 2017, 11:43:34 PM »
The  coyote was right, the Watchmen did not patrol that far inland, usually sticking to moving around the several chunks of connecting land for visitors or trespassers. So the strange scent that washed over Hebe was just as startling as one might think. The Crow did not make a habit of walking along the sea, not enjoying the overwhelming smell of salt and the underlying danger of drowning. This time however, he was nearby, and the panic that surged through him pushed him on closer to the beach.

"You're on Tortugan land. Give me your name."

He smelled a somehow familiar member, and a stranger, and by the noise and sand being thrown around he figured there was a tussle. He approached slowly, then faster once it had calmed down. The scent of salt was always overwhelming, but the smell of the outside world he had almost forgotten was still incredibly noticeable.

"You're on Tortugan land. Give me your name." Spoken like a pissed off Watchman. Hebe chuckled, nervously moving closer in hopes of getting a sense of the situation quickly. His blindness was rarely a huge issue, but there was always the initial struggle of coming in to a new and complicated situation. As he approached, he made sure to bump his muzzle against Yuri first, with a grunt as a warning. He traced it from his shoulder to his muzzle and then down to the stranger.

He sniffed, pressed his muzzle against his wet pelt, and huffed.

"A trespasser, from the sea?" he grunted, eyebrows pressing together. "Don't tell me we're gonna have to patrol water now, too. Name and where you're from, stranger. You're not gonna get a nice treatment, I'm afraid. Since, you know, we have an actual border." there was a growl painting his speech, irritation at his own failure. Sure, he had no way to predict this, but he wished he knw how the hell this could happen. Maybe limiting their stations was a bad idea.

The Crow really hoped he'd corporate, with both him and Yuri. If the stranger tried to struggle again, Hebe would lash out, intending to latch his teeth onto anywhere along his face. Muzzle, nose, eyes. He hoped he would not come to that, quite frankly he was going to have a nice stroll and check up on his adventurous kids.

"Speak up, come on, you're wasting the time I could be spending with my kids, don't you know?" he snorted, rolling his shoulders. As much as he wanted to leave, this was still his job, until perhaps the slavers took over for him. He wanted to at least stick around to solve this damn mystery though.

hebe played by bun

Offline Baal~

  • Tortuga
  • Regular
  • ***
  • Posts: 167
  • don't you lift him LET HIM DROWN ALIVE
  • Liked: 54
  • Likes Given: 11
Re: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« Reply #3 on: January 19, 2017, 12:16:22 AM »
-  Comes in to see Yuri and Hebe harassing a wet, shaking stranger.  From Yuri's angry tone at the seemingly harmless man, she is instantly irked.
-  Hebe gets brownie points.  Hebe's doing great.  Good for Hebe.  But Baal is not happy with Yuri, expressing it with a displeased scowl.  She looks Lucius up and down, taking note of his pretty hues and trembling form, and she speaks with her rattling voice.  "Please," she huffs.  There's no way this clump of wet fur is going to fight back.
-  Glances to Hebe, sitting down.  She is the executioner, she decides if Lucius is to die for finding shelter.  A task Yuri seems all too eager to steal from his fellow Elite.  She flicks water from her ears and lifts her head. "C'mon.  Cough him up."  Ticks her head to Yuri.  Let the poor guy go, eh?
-  She is not being her usual slobbering, snarling self, but the wheeze in her lungs is prominent.  She has made it clear long ago that her lungs do not hinder her from anything.
-  She licks her nose with a forked tongue and looks right into the eyes of the pirate.  "Explain yourself quick, before the slobbering hounds get here."  She snorts again, long and feathered tail sweeping across the ground.
                              
Double bubble disco queen headed to the guillotine
Skin as cool as Steve McQueen, let me be your killer king
It hurts until it stops, we will love until it's not




Baal.  |  #0C0C0D

Offline Lucius`

  • Tortuga
  • Initiate
  • ***
  • Posts: 6
  • there is no war upon the bay
  • Liked: 9
  • Likes Given: 1
Re: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« Reply #4 on: January 24, 2017, 11:43:30 AM »
Nostrils flared and the idle pungent scent of life met salt dampened senses. He sneezed and shook himself, trying to prevent the climb from water logged mop to slightly dry and unkempt. Unfortunately, despite shaking off a few clumps of sand a true return to stable and presentable would have to come later.

The attack came as a surprise—which was understandable, he had nearly drowned and before then had nearly died—and with such shaky legs and weakened knees it was no wonder that the small creature—what was this? A child wolf?—had managed to knock him off balance. He fell over onto his side with a grunt and a plop, puffing up sand as he instinctively reacted to a shrike he wasn’t entirely sure actually hit him. Had this been any other time, had his frame been more steady and prepared, he wouldn’t have found himself pinned beneath small but effective jaws.

But this wasn’t just any other time. This was turning out to be, so far, a rather unfortunate series of events.

Still, respite the rapid beat of his heart and the absolute fury that pooled low and boiling in his belly he remained still—only the slight tremble of his paws and the grotesque twist of his muzzle seemed to belay his true need for dominance. Here, in this alien space in the face of aggression it would do him no good to underestimate an opponent with a current edge in battle.

Later, maybe, if the circumstances were to change…. And if he didn’t have teeth at his throat he might have risked the chance of getting up. This wolf… child…? Dog? Didn’t feel that heavy.

Still, he would not risk destruction due to haughty arrogance. Not this day, he’d made his mistakes earlier in the evening.

He knew an order when he heard one and parted his lips with slightly narrowed eyes and limp body. For all intents and purposes he lounges there, still pinned, with all the grace afforded a wolf forced to submit but he doesn’t attempt to gain any high ground. No point in letting them think he was anything other than some lost scrub willing to obey. After all, there wasn’t much to gain—that he could effectively predict—in doing otherwise.

But before he could speak another wandered over, rushing and bidding him to answer—which in turn took up more time but let it be known that Lucius didn’t bother pointing this out, for he is nothing if not efficient.

Lucius. His voice is strong and steady, despite his situation. There is no fear, and the heat of his indignation is carefully controlled. There is only acceptance for the situation and a foreign sophisticated drawl.

Before he can say more—or ask more, for he has never heard of this Tortuga—another wolf approaches and hopefully he will be allowed to slowly and cautiously roll back onto his belly for a proper stand. Once and if he’s allowed to stand he’ll give a twitch of ear and carefully comb his… opponents with those twisted yellow eyes.

I am not familiar with this side of the waters. Lucius speaks slowly, as if testing the words on his tongue. Or this Tortugan land.

He doesn’t comment on the rest of the secondary wolf’s speech. ‘Nice’ treatment is not a concept he’s familiar with. Whether he was with Albania or the rabble across the seas. Still, it seemed imperative to keep most of his origin to himself, least these wolves have heard of… less than savory acts across the way.

My station was attacked by dissension in the ranks. I’ve… reason to suspect that’s how I came to be here. I was thrown overboard.

Which was so unfortunate, since he’d desperately wanted to sink his teeth into the throat of the first naysayer to stir the crowds.

i'm pulling my weight
in
gold
call me anxious, call me broke
i can't lift this on my own

#ffd740

Offline Yuri.

  • Tortuga
  • Regular
  • ***
  • Posts: 117
  • Liked: 34
  • Likes Given: 7
Re: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« Reply #5 on: January 27, 2017, 12:51:06 PM »

The Bombardier was aware of two others making their way onto the beach in his wake; about bloody time. One of them he had expected to see; a Watchman. The Crow, no less. He remembered the boy's face well and, staring through a clump of the stranger's fur, he fixed Hebe with a stare, knowing full well that it wouldn't be returned. Hebe said his part, and Yuri remained stationary, holding the intruder still while the Crow did his job. Yuri was there as backup, now, protection for the Crow in a sense. He would have preferred an intruder to be kept still if he was apprehending them; the risk was less. And even now, he wasn't sure how much he trusted a blind wolf to do the job well. He'd learn, with time.

The second voice to appear was Baal's, and green eyes shot to her, brow furrowing slightly. She was glaring at him, though he couldn't understand why. She didn't strike him as the type to just let intruders wander around, unharmed, so why was she looking at him as though he'd done something wrong? He was a Gunner. His job was to apprehend threats, and remove them, if necessary, which was exactly what he'd done. Hebe's treatment of the situation - one with caution - seemed far more appropriate than this. He gave her a low growl as she told him to spit out the intruder, but Yuri was in no mood to argue. Baal held no jurisdiction over him, but he knew better than to start a fight over something as petty as a border disagreement. There was a stranger in front of them, and he needed to be interrogated.

With a low huff, he released his toothy grip on the male's throat, allowing him to roll over or get to his feet, whichever he chose to do, and taking a few steps back, listening to what the stranger had to say. He spoke curiously, using words Yuri had never understood before. 'Thrown overboard'. Off what? Into where? The coyote tilted his head, his one large ear flopping over his head and his mouth opening a little. 'Huh.', he hummed, curiously.

"A mutiny?" He assumed. "Where are you from?" Yuri knew the Fringe well, and if this individual was from beyond it, that was even more curious. Especially as he had plans to travel there, soon.
« Last Edit: January 27, 2017, 12:51:38 PM by Yuri. »








a singular definition
of what it's supposed to be like
an arrogant principle of validation
you're pushing the masochism
we're never to question the hive
i'll be the nemesis of expectation

PLAYED BY TEDDY

Offline Baal~

  • Tortuga
  • Regular
  • ***
  • Posts: 167
  • don't you lift him LET HIM DROWN ALIVE
  • Liked: 54
  • Likes Given: 11
Re: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« Reply #6 on: February 06, 2017, 01:57:41 PM »
Red eyes watched Yuri pointedly.  Hey come on, Yuri.  Not here.  She glanced over to the golden-hued pirate, taking in his wet and rugged appearance.  It was... odd, to see the Kraken out near the borders, but the coves were her domain most of the time.  They weren't as dank and dark as her cave, but she found solace in the deep blue caves and tidal pools.  There was something therapeutic about staring into a tidal pool, watching the tiny biomes work together.  Sometimes she hunted for little fish in there.  Sometimes she didn't.  Sometimes she felt like a god.

But in normal circumstances, Yuri, Lucius and Hebe weren't little fish, and she wasn't so arrogant as to consider herself "the ultimate chessmaster" and attempting to poke puppet strings into their arms.  If she tried to poke anything into Yuri, he'd probably bite her.  But she'd learned to take those nips and angry screams endearingly.  If he ever irked her, she'd just gaze happily at his scarred back and count to ten.

But Bermuda was a cruel master.

Maybe someday her odd partnership with the Master Gunner would explode.

She noticed how Lucius spoke, slowly and carefully, never mind the bulging terror still relevant in his expression.  That mutiny must have been unexpected, hm?  She sat back on her haunches, clearly relaxed as ever, and unafraid of the old pirate captain.  "You're lucky the sharks didn't getcha," she commented.  But from his appearance, she chuffed out a single laugh, he must have seen something scary.  She licked her chops and turned to listen to Yuri, lax position betraying the situation itself.  If Lucius attacked, the Master Gunner and Kraken could handle it easily.

And maybe Baal would have a new coat hanger.

A thought popped up.  "... Why were you mutinied?"  A mutiny doesn't just happen.  Lucius must have slipped up, somewhere, somehow.  And now, he belonged to Tortuga.  His secrets were their secrets.

His were hers, because she silently laid her own claim onto what she assumed would be a slave.
                              
Double bubble disco queen headed to the guillotine
Skin as cool as Steve McQueen, let me be your killer king
It hurts until it stops, we will love until it's not




Baal.  |  #0C0C0D

Offline Lucius`

  • Tortuga
  • Initiate
  • ***
  • Posts: 6
  • there is no war upon the bay
  • Liked: 9
  • Likes Given: 1
Re: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« Reply #7 on: February 06, 2017, 02:56:31 PM »
If Lucius is aware of the tension that trembles between the two wolves that are to be his captors he refrains from comment. His attention, and in turn his care, is more or less on the idea of survival. He has two oddities to navigate, wolves of strange breeding and culture, and his desire is to leave the isle in one piece, not several. There’s no reason to stir up the aggression of strangers, with smart mouth or observations.

The female is the first to comment on his luck and with a slight twitch of muzzle that screamed mild irony he was swift in his answer—Perhaps, I am.

For, who was to say these very wolves before him weren’t sharks? Yes, different flesh and paws in place of fins but it’s possible they were as hungry and vicious as the bulk of the sea creatures he’d slain and subjugated. If the sharks weren’t there to tear him apart there were other monsters among the sands with teeth as slick and sharp. He was not so foolish, nor so relaxed, to think these beasts couldn’t do it in their stead.

When the smaller wolf—no, that’s not a wolf, but he’s never seen something quite like Yuri before—is the first to ask more questions Lucius doesn’t hesitate to narrow his gaze and slowly, very slowly, turn to the side so that he has a clear look of the sea.

A mutiny… yes, that’s exactly what it was. And there’s a great deal of abhorrence in his tone. It drips from his words, oozing like poison. It’s a boiling heat in his gut, a clear hatred that flickers among his gaze like the very storms that had carried him away.

He was not pleased, that much was clear, and the memories that flickered across his consciousness weren’t exactly pleasant.

He took a deep shaky breath and a lick of dry muzzle before twisting his head this way and that, as if he were searching the horizon. I came from… from…

He sniffs a bit, his muzzle pointed toward the sky—This is very far.

Very very far.

There’s a slight slither of anxiety in his tone, hinted at by the soft tampering of his words and the bewilderment that wrinkles his muzzle.

This wasn’t good.

I’m… from beyond here. And left unspoken his the whisper that rattles about in his mind—how did he survive?

He twists around for a moment, turning in a tight circle until he faced the sea and gave them his back. Maybe it was the bubbling panic that tightened his chest that made him foolish but if he were going to die, then certainly they’d have torn him apart much earlier.

How does this space exist…? He whispers, his soft voice barely heard over the gentle lap of water---but his company is close enough, maybe they will hear his slip.

When the woman speaks he twists back around, almost startled, all at once lost in his confusion and on edge—Why?

With muzzle parted he stared at the group, gaze somewhat wild, before he shook himself and stood a bit straighter.

Then he laughed, a deep rumbling sound that rolled from his chest with musical timbre. No, he didn’t find his situation laughable, not this portion, but the memories that shifted past his vision—unseen and haunting—were enough to inspire the madness that drove him.

Why indeed! He starts off pleasantly, still cordial and incredibly polite. That was a portion of his being that was unshakable, even as he trembled with restrained lunacy, with curdling loathing, The sheep decided they had no need for a strict master.

It was best to be vague, in case they'd heard of it, in case his delirium had tricked him and he was still among his former people.

Had he messed up? Had he been to cruel? To hungry? To eager?

Was it his fault he’d allowed the scalding heat of his own selfish desires to consume reason and change it’s shape?

No. He was right. He was always right.

I considered myself a rather fair individual. I ran a… rather militant regime and kept them safe. Yet, they were… less than pleased with some of the more necessary law I put into place.

There’s a lick of his chops then, a flicker of something wicked and perverse in his gaze. His laugh comes again, soft, inviting, twisted.

I kept them safe, I fed them meat. I’m a man of discipline, you see. Of order. I did what I had to. I… only hurt when I had too.

Which was all the time.

He sneered then, disgusted at his people, disturbed by their abandonment when he’d given them so so much, so much of his time, of his teeth, of his sanity.

They did not appreciate the safety I represented. The wealth I provided. They wanted change, some of them. They were poison, and I took great care to expel that poison.

A soft huff then, as his gaze returned to the sea—They thought me a monster. I’m no such thing. When the raiders and pirates come for their wives and their children they will wish they had kept their monster to scare them away.

For he’d been a masterful killer, despite his sadism. A pirate hunter, if there ever had been one. Fabled, beyond these isles, beyond this sand, beyond this continent.

How unfortunate.

i'm pulling my weight
in
gold
call me anxious, call me broke
i can't lift this on my own

#ffd740

Offline Krauss.

  • judas
  • Initiate
  • *
  • Posts: 9
  • we're all bloody freaks, we'll give you the creeps
  • Liked: 5
  • Likes Given: 2
Re: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« Reply #8 on: May 28, 2017, 10:50:01 PM »
so... can we aa Lucius at this point as a slave

Offline Raikov

  • Leader
  • Master
  • *****
  • Posts: 554
  • Captain & Scoundrel
  • Liked: 167
  • Likes Given: 93
Re: hello god, it's me, margaret [tresspass;enslavement;coves]
« Reply #9 on: May 29, 2017, 05:35:39 AM »
so... can we aa Lucius at this point as a slave

Yes

"A lion doesn’t concern himself with the
opinions of a sheep."



I wanna see your animal side
Let it all out
I wanna see the dirt
Under your skin
I need your broken promises

I want the guts and glory baby yeah, baby yeah
This town is wasted and alone

But we are alive
Here in death valley
But don't take love off the table yet
'Cause tonight it's just fire alarms and losing you

We love a lot
So we only lose a little
But we are alive, we are alive, we are alive

Profile || #D2C753