welcome to your new hell, Welcome to the Menagerie. Or as we like to call it, Dome Sweet Dome! We are an eight-year strong futuristic shapeshifter and sci-fi creature roleplay, dedicated to bringing you a world unlike any other; a world in which your character has become an experiment and must fight for survival in a domed city, cut off from the rest of the world. Choose to be any animal in your fight for survival in an artificial world built by the Keepers as they subject you to experiments beyond your control. Choose to wander the world inside the walls alone, as a Rogue, or find safety in numbers in one of the groups known as Rings. How will you survive?
60 - 65 ºF
blustery with scattered showers spotty sunshine
YEAR 2309
shift bans.
» Cougars (aka Puma, Mountain Lion, Panther)
» All Tiger Species
» All Lion Species
» All Wolf Species
» African Leopards
group bans.
none.
encouraged !
FEMALE CHARACTERS! create a RETRO or ANTHRO and get 250 CP + a free skill! read me for more info!
last updated: april 19th, 2016
Click on each Ring or Retro group image to view their ranks!
GROUP UPDATES
CARNARING
Jocelyn Edelwolfe is the new Alpha! Seija Mulviene is the new Beta, and Grey is the new Delta. Lead Hunter is now Boone Haywood, Head of Border Patrol is now Noelle Ndango!
FALLENRING
-
FULSIRING
Fulsi has a standing treaty with the Nakoma, granting limited access to their fresh water.
NAKOMA TRIBE
-
ANALOYA PRIDE
a while back, the Analoya suffered a suspicious poisoning of their river, luckily with few casualties; the Bellator are suspected of having taken part in it, and there are whispers that Pride leader Wanderer is talking alliance with the Nilda for access to their clean water.
BELLATOR HERD
As new leader of the Bellator, Loril has instituted some rank changes. See this thread for more information!
LAWAII FLOCK
no updates!
NILDA PACK
no updates!
CARNARING QUICK STATS
ALPHA -- Jocelyn Edelwolfe, Clouded Leopard, played by IronChild
BETA -- Seija Mulviene, Spotted Hyena, played by Seija-chan
DELTA --Grey, Mackenzie Valley Wolf, played by Kriss
_______________________________________________
Her whole body was stiff, slumped up against the counter, a whiskey bottle still in her hand. The counter was warm under her cheek, and it stuck to her skin as Quinn lifted her head groggily. The ears that were tangled in the mass of curly red mess called hair drooped lazily, bluish green eyes cracking open. She grunted, even the low light from the lamps hurting her eyes. Her gaze shifted over to the liquor bottle in her hand, releasing it and letting it roll off the bar with a shatter when she found it empty. Slowly, because that was the only thing she could manage, she lifted a hand to her aching head. Jeez. She couldn't remember a thing, the night hazy as hell when she tried to reach back for the memories.
She managed to prop herself up on her elbows, letting her eyes run over the Speakeasy. It'd been the first place she'd hunted down after being let loose in the Menagerie. The Keepers, those bastards, had finally released her after being in their torture for nearly two years. She could feel the aftertaste of the whiskey, and Quinn promptly decided she needed more to get rid of it. Her brain wasn't exactly rational. She ran her fingers through her hair, flinching when she touched her own ears. Those damn things still freaked her out, even after all this time. It wasn't as bad as the tail though. She could hardly look at the thing, let alone think about it. The slender redhead stretched, pulling herself off the barstool with a stumble.
"Arggg. Pull it to-to-together." She said, spitting a curse under her breath. She definitely needed another drink. However, as she went to reach around the counter, she proceeded to topple over. She went down in a flailing thrash of arms and legs, falling onto the littered floor with a thump. "ohfreakindamnit!" She slurred, laying back with momentary defeat on the floor.
--- words:328 ooc: Be prepared. Quinn is not very nice. xDDD It'll get better soon <3
drink up baby doll
ooh are you in or are you out?
sig (c) han ♥
eighteen - female - complicated! - maned wolf anthro - fallen omega/reformed rogue
+hearing;+speed;+healing;
The sun was shining, and it seemed the perfect day for the inked man strolling lackadaisically along the boulevard as if he hadn't a care in the world. A cigarette dangled lazily from the corner of his mouth, a light hum drifting in and out as he searched for the right notes to a song he barely remembered anymore. The man drew to a slow halt, his lips creasing in a slight frown, the cigarette twitching as ashes scattered on the breeze. Some long lost memory pulled at him, lips pursing again as he craned his neck back to glance at the sky, hoping it gave him something more.
The tug slowly ebbed, though, and the thought escaped him - that had been happening quite often in the past few days. "Odd, innit." He muttered to himself, talking around the cigarette before taking a long drag, allowing whatever drug Seraphim had called was in the damn things soak into his system and calm his nerves. Desidero shifted uncomfortably, wrapping his arms briefly around his shoulders as if to block out a cold breeze that wasn't there - his mind was back in The Bronx, during the winter. When he awoke with a steel cord wrapped around his neck, a rough hewn material being shoved in his mouth and a pillowcase being shoved over his head. Desi shuddered and rubbed his arms thoughtfully, shaking his head. He preferred the other memory - the one he couldn't even remember, to that terrible night. The night that left him here - in this place. He'd been here forever - though he'd spent years in testing, longer than most others. Maybe it'd been Seraphim sparing him from this cruel, violent place.
Desi shuddered again, his right hand twitching. He gripped his left bicep, trying his best to hold on as his hand spasmed uncontrollably, fingers splaying as his hand ripped itself from his own grip and hung loosely at his side, twitching violently. The man grit his teeth and willed it to stop - damn this disease. The quacks had called it Huntington's or some malarkey. Just another way to get money, Desi had thought. But the symptoms had been growing worse - and the cigarettes helped cope with the fact that he was slowly losing control of his body. The fit passed and Desi took another long drag from his cig, getting the most he could out of his precious stock before flicking it to the cement and crushing it as he moved on. His cheerful mood quickly regained it's muster after that crippling blow and soon had the familiar bounce in his step and the twinkle in his eye as he meandered on his way to his favorite little joint.
The whitewashed church came into view and he felt a grin starting. He was no priest, but he was pretty sure the bar built underneath the sacred place was some type of blasphemy or some shit. Desi shook his head and descended the dimly lit stairs, painstakingly avoiding the gaping holes that careless, blundering drunkards had made in their brawls and unwitting destruction. Desi enjoyed getting hammered out of his mind now and again, of course, but not in this place unless they had their designated dunce to keep watch. Today he was more in the mood to numb the fact that he'd had more bouts of the disease than usual - they were becoming more and more common as the days grew long.
So he'd come alone - a thought he immediately cherished as his eyes landed on the slumped body on the counter, obviously alive by the subtle rise and fall of it's chest. Desi's eyes roved the girls body thoughtfully, checking her for any obvious surface wounds, wondering if she was unconscious by choice or by fist. He strode over to the other end of the counter and sat on one of the decaying bar stools and swiveled a complete 360, looking like a kid in a candy shop, finding himself imagining the place in it's hayday. He heard mumbling and grunting at the other end and stifled a bubble of laughter as the red-headed girl toppled off the barstool and landed straight on her ass and duly surrendered to what must be a pounding headache. He noticed straight off the bat she was an Anthro, but that didn't bother him none.
He grabbed a half-full bottle of what he deemed as moonshine whiskey and took a swing, stomping his foot as the firey liquid burned down his throat. With that he sauntered over to the girl sprawled on her back, cracking a wide grin at her predicament. He leaned over her and winked. "Busy night, huh dollface?" He grinned. offering her a hand up. His New York accent was thick, even in those few words.
ooc; turned out longer than I intended XD this is my first post with him so I got bombarded by memories and thoughts XD
Her eyes focused on the dark ceiling, not even caring that she was sprawled on the floor of the bar. It was funny to think that the ceiling was actually a floor in a church. When she first laid eyes on the whitewashed building, she thought for sure the guy who'd directed her here had been kidding. She had wandered through the pews, fascinated that anyone would want to sit on those hardass things. She'd promptly kicked one over, a 'revenge' of sorts. Her mother had believed in this stuff, and look where it had gotten her. In a poor man's grave, no headstone, just a f***ing rock to mark her final resting place. Quinn's old man had been buried there to, and she'd taken a piss on his rock. After that, she didn't visit again.
Ugh, she really needed to stop thinking about this shit. It took her back to a darker place, a place she never wanted to visit ever again. She lifted a hand to her eyes, rubbing her face and chasing away the messy red strands of hair. There was the light sound of footsteps and her whole body tensed up. It was a reflex, something that she coudln't help but do. Annoying as hell, so she fought it down, locking it in a little box. "Busy night, huh dollface?" The voice had a thick accent that she couldn't place. It sounded American, a place she had never visited or even known about until coming here. Quinn was from London, her father a native and her mother an Irish immigrant. Terror momentarily constricted her throat, but she swallowed, warily looking at the man's hand.
She had to resist the urge to spit, at him the scent of her own 'ring' the only thing keeping her from doing so. She'd joined the Fallen because she felt she had no other choice, which bugged the mess out of her. As soon as she could manage it on her own, Quinn was pulling a solo act. Her head was pounding like a freight train, as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. "Not as busy as your mother's night." She said, sneering at his cheerful grin. How could anyone be cheerful about this hell hole, being kept here against their will? Though if she was being honest with herself, she probably had it better in here than out there. She let her gaze slide from him for just a moment, long enough to grab a half full bottle to her lips."Get your damn hand out of my face before I bite it off."
She got to her feet, carefully, watching the tattoo'd man. She'd never gotten the chance to get a tatoo for herself, but she imagined given the chance she would have. She let her gaze wander up and down, pushing down every single thing that made her want to bolt in terror. She wobbled but gripped the counter, bottle still in hand, to keep herself somewhat steady. Quinn couldn't honestly remember if the male had been in here last night, when she'd hoarded three or four bottles. She squinted at him, blue-green eyes trying to place him.
--------
words: 532
drink up baby doll
ooh are you in or are you out?
sig (c) han ♥
eighteen - female - complicated! - maned wolf anthro - fallen omega/reformed rogue
+hearing;+speed;+healing;
"Wouldn't know, never had one." He said, merely smiling at her bitter tinged response, withdrawing his hand carefully, feigning fear. "Probably right, though, if she's alive. The fact that he was raised motherless didn't bother him - his adopted brother had basically been his caretaker, with a few bits of drunken advice from the scruffy looking fellow Steve. He always got a lot of lip for being such a happy looking fellow - even back when he was still in New York. He faced life with a determined smile, whether or not on the inside he was happy or not. Truth be told, for the most part it was all true - his smiles were the result of a complete satisfaction within himself, an outlook on life that simply could not be dimmed. He was the prime example of the extreme optimist - not to say he didn't have his off days. Everyone did.
As he watched the hostile girl he was left with a bad taste in his mouth. Still, he wouldn't hold her drunkenness against her. Even though to him, when you were drunk was hen the truth really slipped out - it was an inhibitor to the motor skills but it worked wonders for the mouth. Desi simply watched her with soft caramel eyes as she took a long draught from another unlabeled bottle, that usually contagious goof-ball grin still resting on his scruffy cheeks. "Ah, c'mon babe! Would you really talk to your new hubby like that?" He laughed, holding up his hand and twiddling his fingers where a crackerjack box ring rested (from an old joke). Truth be told he knew what it was like to wake up from a night of drinking and not remember a damned thing. He'd gotten pretty good at reading people - it came in handy living a life of crime on the streets. He had a fair guess that she didn't rightly know if he'd been there or not. Figured it was worth a shot at some laughs.
"Honey! Where's your ring?!" His face mimed pure shock and slight hurt. "They were right. You're just using me for my body, aren't you?" He grabbed the bottle and took another swig, solacing himself in it's fiery comfort. He pressed his forehead to the counter and let out a mournful sigh. "Whyyy does this always happen to me? I'm just too handsome." He rolled his head as if it was on a pivot and looked to her, dragging his lips in an exaggerated frown. "It's a curse, ya know. A damned curse." He saluted her and nursed his faux wounds with his now nearly empty bottle.
ooc; short and sucky x.x sorry. figured I'd at least set you up for some insults XD
“Of course you have a mum. Everyone does. Dead, alive, here, there. Otherwise you're one of those virus freaks.” She said, muttering as she got to the last word. Her eyes narrowed, looking him over. Nah, he couldn't be one of those Viruses. Too cheery for that. Her ears tilted back, as she looked away from him again. She tucked a loose strand of hair back, sighing. She was trying to appear nonchalant, as if this stranger didn't bother her in the slightest. But he was unsettling, undaunted by her hostility. It'd put plenty of people off before, or at least pissed them off. She tilted the bottle to her lips, the room temperature liquid burning the back of her throat. She coughed, fiddling with the bottle with her fingertips. Her posture was rigid, and she was a little more sullen than usual. Too early. Way too damn early. She couldn't really process anything that her mind was trying to throw at her. She peeked at him through her lashes, his laughter sending a small twinge of pain. Why did she have to get stuck with a morning person? But then she actually heard what he said. Her face scrunched up, lips twisting into a scowl and her eyebrows drawing together. She was really studying him now, picking her brain for any memory of last night.
Please, please, please, tell me I did not marry this guy.
"Get used to it, bub. Until the sex is good enough that I'll actually remember it, you're dead to me."She clutched the bottle again in her left hand, leaning against the counter. If she'd been closer, she probably would have jabbed him in the ribs."Must have given it to my other husband for safekeeping." She shrugged, sliding up ontop of the bar. She had to move her tail, situate the thing so she didn't sit on it, and she found herself playing with it as if she were nervous. Quinn snarled quietly under her breath, pushing the red bushy thing away. His mournful sound had her arching an eyebrow, a smirk daring to quirk itself on her lips. "Great. I married a prima donna, just my luck." She complained, rolling her neck to work out some kinks. Not to self: No more sleeping against the bar. At least passout in the floor or something. She stifled a yawn, catching those carmel eyes when he was looking at her. "Yeah, you are cursed." She chuckled. "Must suck not being able to please a lady."
She bit into her lip, red ears tilting and twitching. He certainly was something. An annoying something, but something none the less. "I'm Quinn. "
[/i] She said. "Mind retelling me your name, like everything else I can't seem to remember. Are we sure this is booze?" She held up her bottle, tilting it so she could peer into the top.
drink up baby doll
ooh are you in or are you out?
sig (c) han ♥
eighteen - female - complicated! - maned wolf anthro - fallen omega/reformed rogue
+hearing;+speed;+healing;
"I guess yer right." He mumbled in reply, eyes hazed as he slipped through the slough of memories that seemed to spring to life at her words; by gone days of life on the streets. He searched for her face - his mothers. He couldn't recall what she'd looked like - he remembered only a soft muzzle, golden brown eyes and warm, soft fur. It was always hard to imagine that he'd once been a dog - born and raised. It had taken him years to learn how to use his hands, let alone those wonderful opposable things called thumbs. Desi felt suddenly lost, unsure of who he was. His inked hand, still coiled around around the neck of the bottle spasmed and his shoulder jerked back. He grunted softly and watched the bottle shatter on the already glass littered floor, his face etched with a pained grimace. "Damn," he whispered, right hand grabbing the twitching one and tucking it against him. He turned away from the girl, still enveloped in memories and thoughts of his own disease - whatever the hell it was again.
Desi found himself debating whether or not he needed another cig - more likely if he could risk smoking more than one per day. At the rate he was burning 'em out he'd be out in two days. Her words brought him back to the present and he found himself sputtering out a half-choked laugh. Damn, this girl was tough. He turned to watch her, catching her fiddling with her tail. Eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a moment - perhaps she wasn't as tough as she seemed. Truly arrogant and secure people hardly ever fiddled, if at all. Of course he was still quite convinced this girl was affixed with a well prepared arsenal of well aimed strikes. Wiping the smile from his face as best he could, Desi mimed a sorrowfully stricken expression as he met her gaze again. "What is it with women?" He sighed, pointing a quivering accusatory finger at her. He pulled it back sharply, hoping she hadn't seen. "All you ever think about is sex. Swear ta Gawd, it's like your brain is in your babymaker 'r somethin'."
"Must suck not being able to please a lady." At this Desidero flat out laughed, sputtering nonsense at her bold insults. I think I'm in love, he mused, grinning rakishly. "Never had no complaints before." He slid off his bar stool and sauntered over to her, fingertip skimming the brim of his black, scruffy fedora. "Then again, ain't never met a girl quite like ya." He leaned back on the counter next to her, swiping her bottle and choking down another swig. "I know who ya are, Quinny. Don't ever forget a name - specially not if she's the ol' ball and chain." He ducked in for a quick peck on her cheek before sidling away, avoiding whatever retaliation she might offer, sliding the bottle over as a peace offering. "Desidero DeSoto, at ya service." He grinned his famous lopsidedly toothy grin and tipped his hat. "Friends call me Desi."
ooc; Arggh. I'm so mad for not replying earlier/better. x.x also, Desi it seems has a deathwish ;D
The sound of glass shattering brought her head up, startled eyes lifting from the new pile of broken glass to his face. She barely caught the look of pain, before he turned away from her. Oddly enough, she was concerned, letting her eyes linger noticing his right hand gripping his left. She reached her hand out, only to let the fingers curl and drop away, scowling at herself. What was she doing? Thinking? She bit into her lip, trying to find something to hate him for. Something that she could use and cling to, that would make those usual snappy comebacks rise easily to her tongue. She listened his hand twitch and spasm, even though he'd turned his back to her. "You can't waste that shit, man." She grumbled, trying to concentrate on the glass littered floor. It was no use, she could even hear the small muscles seizing and releasing, and it bothered her. He muttered under his breath, and she heard that too, clenching her teeth together. Quinn pulled the ears down with both hands, just the mere sounds causing her own hand to ache. But she didn't ask about him.
She absolutely refused to let her mouth open, to ask such a stupid and pointless question. But after a few moments, he spoke again, and she slowly removed her hands. Her expression became a look that said, 'Oh really?', and she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye as she turned to give him that look. By the time she finally got around to meeting his eyes, he was still. "And you lot of men are any better?" She challenged. "Though, hell, of what I've seen most of you are homosexual. Doesn't leave us many options now does it?" Quinn might be terrified of men, and might blanch at the sight of naked people and sex, but it wouldn't keep her from talking about it like she actually knew anything about it.
Her father had sexually abused her up until the night she'd murdered him. The same night that he had murdered her mother on the kitchen floor. Her fifteenth birthday. And she'd never had sex again, and she was fairly certain she didn't want to. It made you too vulnerable, too weak, and too breakable. Not a good thing in this place. Never had no complaints before. She bit back her laughter, a slight smile tilting at her lips. She was always a bit better mannered when intoxicated. "Oh, so you were a virgin before last night? Tsk. Tsk." She said, smacking a palm to her forehead. "No wonder..." She tensed, eyeing him when he scooted closer. Her bottle had been momentarily forgotten, and the smile slid off her face. Her throat constricted, suddenly dry as the Sahara, when he swiped her bottle. That roused her a bit. "Oi! Who the hell you think you are?" The indignation in her tone made the Irish accent stand out a little stronger.
She paused for a moment, mid reach for her bottle, when he spoke again. "I'm about to show you ball and chain; When I drop your ass over the Carna docks." She had barely uttered that, when he did something completely unexpected. The soft brush of his lips against her cheek sent her back two years, to a dark night. A figure looming over her, nibbling softly on her neck with alcohol on his breath. In the next moment, he was hitting her, and she didn't even bother to scream. He liked it too much when she screamed, it drove him on, so it did no good to scream. She gasped for breath, clawing her way to the present. A dirty scowl ran over her lips, a curse falling from them as she knocked the bottle away. It crashed over the side, but her gaze didn't flicker from Desidero. She crossed the space that he'd put between them, fisting her hands into his jacket. She probably couldn't move him at all, not even with anger on her side. Standing, she realized that she was just a bit taller than him...even with the hat. "Don't you ever f---ing touch me." She snarled, though there was a small waver in her voice. Her blue-green stare looked into his caramel eyes, only the slightest twinges of fear in her visible. She thought she would like this one too.
But he moved too forward...too fast. She jerked her hands away from him, turning, and stalking away. The glass crunched under her feet, as she kicked an open cabinet, sending the door slamming shut. She moved away from the bar, heading to one of the round tables. Quinn didn't want to leave just yet, she needed another bottle to keep her for a few more days. She couldn't face the Fallenring just yet, she hadn't even been there but an hour before she'd come running over here. She had spent more of her free time in this small, cavernous room than she had exploring the ring who had accepted her without questions. She pulled a chair from another table to the one she'd chosen, booting a sloppy drunkard out of it. Her hands dug into the wood, her heart thrumming like a little bird's. Christ, how could she have been so...stupid. She should have told him to shove off the minute he stuck his damn hand in her face.
----
ooc: e-e Quinn does not likey the kiss. Though I did. xDDD And your post was greattt >;D words: 902.
drink up baby doll
ooh are you in or are you out?
sig (c) han ♥
eighteen - female - complicated! - maned wolf anthro - fallen omega/reformed rogue
+hearing;+speed;+healing;
"Though, hell, of what I've seen most of you are homosexual. Doesn't leave us many options now does it?" He choked back another laugh at the thought of him ever being gay. It was an odd thought, really – and quite a comical one. “Nah, that’d be the Fulsiboys.” He would be the worse gay man ever – his fashion sense was horrible, for one. And B, he was totally and irrevocably in love with women and their astounding beauty. Desi thanked God for how devastatingly attractive they were – and Desi found himself hopelessly infatuated with the one situated in front of him, ears and all. She looked young, though. Probably not even twenty yet. He sighed softly to himself – woe to him. All the pretty, feisty ones were either too young or belonged to another Ring and wanted nothing to do with a pesky little Fallen twerp. ”Us Fallen - we’re tough and rough and undeniably straight. Including myself. He winked and continued to observe her casually, his rakish grin fading for a moment. "And you wouldn't marry no homo, Q, you're much too beautiful." His voice was soft, the joking grin and tone gone – the corners of his mouth rose softly, eyes glinting mysteriously as his sincerity shone through.
It lasted only a minute as she shot off another joke about his virginity. He feigned embarassment but inwardly he found himself laughing – she could say all she wanted, but he knew the truth. He had himself quite a track record. Not so much here, in The Menagerie – but back in New York? Damn, he’d been around the bases with plenty of babes. Quite enjoying nursing his superficially deflated ego with his confiscated bottle of booze, he grinned lopsidedly at her exclamation. “I told ya, sweetcheeks, I’m yer hubby.”
"I'm about to show you ball and chain; When I drop your ass over the Carna docks." Her burst out laughing, quite tipsy at this point, but his mirth was cut off with succinct and effective skill when she was suddenly in his face, fists balled in his jacket front. A low growl formed in his throat instinctively and his hands wrapped around her upper arms, gripping violently for a moment – his face contorted in a feral, animinalistic snarl. But as soon as it was there, it was gone. He let her go, raising his hands palm out beside his head, brow furrowed in confusion and regret. The venom in her words took him by surprise and he stepped back as if to emphasize his good intentions, relieved when she released him and stalked over to the table.
Desidero watched her go, heart rate slowing. He’d almost lost it, again. Damnit. This place was turning him into an animal again – something he constantly tried to outlive. His youth had been filled with bloodshed – brutal dogfights as he was forced to fight for his life against other aggressive dogs, goaded into fighting. His owner hadn’t really been abusive, not like some other dogs he’d heard of, but it had been bad enough seeing his mother, father and siblings leave and come back torn to shreds. He sighed, wringing his hands together; he wanted to go over and comfort her, hating the fact that he’d brought her pain and that much rage. He’d caught the slight undertone of fear, however smothered it was. He felt for her, wondering what she’d suffered to make her so hostile.
Desi felt defensive of her, even though he’d really done nothing wrong, but felt like a jackass for toying with her like that. Moments of silence passed and he whistled lowly, heading over to one of the dark corners. He knocked on the wall in a couple different places, ear cocked to listen – ah, there. The hollow spot. He grinned and pulled at the plank of wood till it opened to a small little alcove – a vault of sorts for the best of the best. He and a drinking buddy had discovered it after accidentally knocking into it in a fist fight over god knows what. He pulled out a bottle of wine that he’d been saving for this girl he’d had his eye on for a while –a Fulsi chick he’d taken a liking to – but thought that Quinn would probably get more use out of it. He scrounged around the bartop for a bottle opener, knowing he’d seen one somewheres around here – ah, there we go. He snatched it and hopped back over, shoes crunching on the glass.
Shambling over to the table, he plopped down in the chair opposite her, trying a sheepish smile. “Ey…ah…I’m sorry, y’know.” He paused, clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, honest.” As he spoke he worked at the cork, grinning at the satisfying pop when it finally opened. He slid it across to her, tentatively, hopefully. “A peace offering of sorts.” He murmured, brown eyes thoughtful. “Really am sorry.”
ooc; bahhhh. wanted to do a lot more but there be no muse D;
Her fingers trailed along her upper arms, elbows propping her up on the table, as her heart pounded away in her chest. She'd been totally caught off guard. Her eyebrows scrunched together angrily, her left hand curling into a fist. That couldn't happen again, if he had wanted to hurt her he could have, so easily with the way she'd been so relaxed with him. But he didn't hurt you... Something quiet murmured, as her hand drifted up to her cheek. The whole had been very chaste, not at all forceful or imposing. She was just freaking the hell out. Which probably wasn't good for her health. Was her past really going to scar her like this forever? Would she ever be able to let someone touch her? Hold her hand? Quinn shuffled uneasily, wondering if she should go back and say something. The way he'd gripped her arms showed that she had certainly surprised him.
She heard the chair squeak, looking at him from under her lashes uncertain. Why was he over here exactly? Didn't she piss him off even a little? Judging by his sheepish grin she supposed not, which made her curious. “Ey…ah…I’m sorry, y’know.” She lowered her gaze, her ears drooping. Why the hell did she have to feel bad too? She bit into her lip, the pop of the cork startling her, as she tensed up and then...realized what had happened relaxing again. The sound of the bottle sliding across the table had her looking up, trying her best to appear confident again. "I..." She bit back the apology, not totally sure she wanted to apologize for her actions. She had meant what she said...that he shouldn't touch her again. Quinn sighed, looking over the bottle with mild interest. It wasn't in her nature to turn down a good bottle, and she could smell it from here. It was nice and aged perfectly. "I just go problems with physical stuff alright? If it's not punches I just can't...I...can't"
She met his gaze evenly this time, looking over the top of the wine bottle. "I should know that half you lot don't mean what you do. But...eh...I guess I need to learn to lighten up some." She let her fingertips trail along the table's top until she toyed with the bottom of the bottle. "Desidero DeSoto." She hummed under her breath, letting the alcohol already brewing inside take some effect. She eyed him for just a moment. "What in bloody hell made you want to kiss me?" She tried to smile, but half failed. She needed another drink. "Oi....are we sharing this or what?" She nudged the bottle back toward him without taking a swig just yet. She might a little later, but before she got on the hard stuff she needed to get to know this guy just a bit better.
drink up baby doll
ooh are you in or are you out?
sig (c) han ♥
eighteen - female - complicated! - maned wolf anthro - fallen omega/reformed rogue
+hearing;+speed;+healing;
"I just go problems with physical stuff alright? If it's not punches I just can't...I...can't."
He blinked at her statement, wondering again what she'd gone through, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to give her a big bear hug. Hugs had always helped him feel better - hell, any form of human touch had always left him feeling calm and surprisingly happy. He supposed it was the dog in him - if it hadn't been for the fact he'd been raised as a human for the past 12 or so years of his life, he'd be waggin' his tail this very second at the prospect of hugging her. "It's alright, Q. It was my fault, after all."
"I should know that half you lot don't mean what you do. But...eh...I guess I need to learn to lighten up some."
"Life ain't worth livin' if ya can't laugh, I always say." He leaned back in his chair, pushing off his heels so the chair stood only on it's back two and tipped precariously. He pulled his hat lower over his eyes and watched her from beneath the brim, light brown eyes curious. "But I guess you Brits have a different sense of humor, eh? Back where I'm from we call it...dry. Loike them Montee Python blokes." He smirked playfully and stifled a laugh at his lame mimicry - he was so unbelievably full of himself sometimes, and shook his head slightly at the thought.
"What in bloody hell made you want to kiss me?"
"Why in the bloody hell do you think? Desi grinned wolfishly, though he sobered slightly as he mulled it over. He resisted the urge to run his fingers along her soft cheek, a gentle caress he'd used only on the ones who really got to him. "What guy in his right mind could resist kissin' a face that pretty?" He grinned that crooked, toothy grin and winked playfully. "I sure as hell couldn't, tell ya that much." Damn, he just couldn't keep a smile off his face around this girl. He shook his head to try to clear the haze settling comfortably over his brain. She captivated him for some strange reason he couldn't explain - probably because she was a headstrong sonnuva- well. She was a challenge, that was for sure.
"Call me Desi, hun," He said, slurring slightly and grinning thirstily at her invitation to share the beautiful bottle of wine. "Don't mind if I-" He was in the middle of reaching out a hand to grab the neck of the bottle when he heard a shuffle of noise just above, and instinctively his pupils dilated til his eyes were near black and a low growl rumbled in his chest, sounding just as if there were a feral dog in the room. He figured she could hear it to, what with those ears, so he didn't bother motioning her to look.
He saw a flash of fur, a flurry of movement and before he knew what was what a body dropped from the rafters and landed with a thunderous thud on the floor. Desi tried to scramble out of his chair but the stranger's foot kicked forward and shoved his balancing chair backward and Desi was sent tumbling to the ground. He landed with a heavy thunk that left the daylights knocked out of him before he felt a tremendous weight on his chest and a stinging punch landing square on his nose. Blood gushed from the wounds and he tried to raise his meaty arms to deflect the blows but they came harder and harder. He fell back limp, refusing with every fiber of his being to hit back - he couldn't let it take over. Not ever again. Desi struggled to breath against the big, black haired man's hits and couldn't get his bearings as the blows rained down harder and harder, the unbearable stench of Fulsi flooding his nostrils. And all he could think about was Quinn, and he hoped to high heaven that she was okay.
He was taking this rather well, she supposed. He didn’t seem angry about anything, all of his suave and charm returning with ease. The red head wasn’t entirely sure what to think about Desidero Desoto, or his odd mannerisms. The man was charming as hell, liked his drink, and perhaps if Quinn had been completely normal he would have been her type. But she was damaged, most likely beyond repair and that kept her walls intact. She couldn’t afford to let too many people into her life, and her ‘Fallenring’ meant little to her as far as being able to trust them. She didn’t trust anyone as far as she could throw them. His British impression had a smile tilting her lips precariously, the greenish blue eyes rolling, and a small laugh passing out of her lips. ”You’re a smarmy bloke, aren’t ya?” She lifted an eyebrow, those ears gone to twitching again. Quinn couldn’t decide whether she liked this bloke or not. His swift little peck on her cheek would have gotten most knocked flat out, but she’d only delivered him a warning. I like it when he smiles… The Anthro thought, then was abruptly horrified by that idea. It’s this ruddy drink. She tried to convince herself, as she rubbed a hand over her face.
"Why in the bloody hell do you think? "What guy in his right mind could resist kissin' a face that pretty?" "I sure as hell couldn't, tell ya that much."
Color rose to her cheeks, the teenager buried deep under all of her hardass practically grinning. Her tail started a little sway, her lips twisting up into a scowling smirk to keep the stupid smile from spreading too far. ”A guy in his right mind knows better than to kiss me. I suppose that makes you off your trolley, Desoto.” Her fingers nudged the bottle back toward him some more, ignoring his invitation to call him ‘Desi’. Only friends gave each other pet names, and Quinn still wasn’t convinced she could call him friend. They were both getting drunk off their arse, for crying out loud! She stiffened visibly, a shuffling noise cutting off Desidero’s words. Her ears could pick up even that slight sound, and Desidero could too apparently. Her gaze tried to slowly lift to catch a glimpse of the intruder in the rafters, his growl causing her own to rise up in her throat. She could feel the change tingle under her skin, but it was unable to do anything. No fur came busting out from her pores, her snout didn’t elongate, nor did her back arch. It was the first time the shift had ever tried to come to her and it wasn’t allowed out. That damn…experiment.
She heard the male’s breathing catch, and she pushed back from the table just as he fell from the rafter. Quinn stared wide eyed at the male, who was completely ignoring her. What the hell is that about!? Don’t I count as danger too? She though indignantly, another snarl ripping out of her pipes. Her fists clenched as the stranger kicked Desi’s chair, sending her drinking buddy to the floor. Quinn hesitated, waiting for Desidero to get to his feet and show this douche just who the hell he was messing with. But that stranger was on him, swinging a fist and the sound of cartilage breaking. She was a red headed fury then, overturning the table in her wake and the bottle crashing to the floor. She didn’t have a weapon, not even an impromptu one, so it was left to her fists. She screeched, swinging her right fist around to knock the attacker in the head with as much force as she could fit behind it. The guy wobbled, but he was still ignoring her…like she wasn’t a threat at all. A snarl broke free, utterly animalistic as she wrapped her arm around his neck in a choke hold, cutting off his air supply. He reeked of something that she didn’t understand, and as he raised his hands to pry at her arm, she sunk her teeth into his ear.
Quinn fought dirty, if you couldn’t tell. Anger swelled up, as she crunched down on the man’s ear, her sharp little teeth piercing the skin. He was going to have plenty of earring holes when she was finished with him. The red head threw her weight into him, forcing him to roll off Desidero. She released her hold, letting him choke for air before getting to her feet and stomping him in the head with her shoe. ”Don’t. You. EVER. Mess. With. What’s. Mine. She hissed, each word bringing another blow. The man was limp under her after the fourth or fifth kick, and she added one more just for good measure. His face was a bloody mess, and she felt the desire to do more, but she needed to check on Desidero… She swallowed, bile rising up in her throat as she cracked her knuckles, before turning to check on her drinking buddy. ”Christ, are you alright? There was blood from his nose, and she scooted close to him, inspecting him with her eyes. Her hands were still clenched tightly, listening for any reason at all to jump back on that other guy. What the hell didn’t you do anything?” Quinn demanded.
drink up baby doll
ooh are you in or are you out?
sig (c) han ♥
eighteen - female - complicated! - maned wolf anthro - fallen omega/reformed rogue
+hearing;+speed;+healing;
He couldn’t see anything but red - literally, not some figurative language crap about being ‘mad’ or something. He literally couldn’t see anything past the smears of blood oozing into his eyes...well eye. The right one was already swelling, he could feel it in between punches. Boy, this guy was persistant as hell, wasn’t he? And a big mother, by the feel of the fists slamming into his face. His thoughts drifted as he phased in and out of consciousness, the man’s fist slick with his blood and barely able to land a solid blow anymore.
The pressure was relieved and he heard scuffling off to the side, angry snarls and the grunt of surprise as the Fulsi was taken off is feet, and as Desi’s bloody head lolled to the side and watched in a daze as his imaginary wife beat the hell out of the guy. Desi had to stifle another laugh at what he heard her sputter with each resounding kick ”Don’t. You. EVER. Mess. With. What’s. Mine.” Oho, she’d regret those words huh? His bloody face was plastered with that same persistent, toothy grin - the aggression that had surfaced was gone now that he’d had his face smashed.
He let his eyes drift closed as Quinn’s foot smashed into the guys face summore and drifted lazily through his thoughts. “Man, my face hurts like hell. Like...some eighth layer of hell reserved just for me. And my face.” He slurred, not realizing he was actually speaking. “Ohh, my handsome, lovely face. All beaten and bruised and bloody. How willlll she ever love menow? With a face only a mother could love? I ask youuuu...that.”
He pointed a finger at the ceiling and cursed something awful about God and prostitutes and liquor and a little extra for skateboarding punks who walked, nono rolled all over his lawn. “I don’t haff a yard, they...stole it fromme. Ohi there Q, when’d you get here?” He looked up into Quinn’s eyes his one un-swollen eye covered in blood, not realizing she’d been there for a bit. He wiped a hand across it and winced, but smiled (a smile that cause more blood to ooze) once he could see her face. “I was jus’ thinkin’...about...yaknow...well you know. It’s a shame she won’t ever see him again.” He nodded, swallowing a mix of blood and saliva. A deep sadness overtook him and he was silent and brooding, even in his confusion.
”Christ, are you alright?” At this he burst out laughing, blood sputtering from his lips. “Christ! I ain’t Christ! Although come to think offit I did know a Jesus. Heyyyzoos!” He nodded thoughtfully. “Man, that guy was awesome. I miss that little fella.” He sighed, hands folded across his chest as lay with a oddly contented smile on his face.
”Why the hell didn’t you do anything?”
"I..." He paused, his voice cracking. "I don’ know how to fight that’s why." He swung a fist limply at the air and when it came down he’d forgotten what he’d said, his feeble lie..
"Killed....a kid." He gestured uselessly at her, as if trying to bat away the memories. "Once upon a long time ago." He nodded as if she would understand why he couldn’t ever fight again, sighing softly to himself. He’d never told anyone. Well anyone but Seraphim; and Seraphim had taken are of the body. Desi laughed, a short, desperate sound that seemed caught between a laugh and a cry. "I...beat him so his face, it looked like, his face - it looked like..." He paused, trying to remember. "...no face. No eyes or nose or..." He touched a hand to his bloodied lips, dragging his fingers heavily across them. ”Mouth.”
He was silent for a long time, lost in guilt and shame, but then he remembered something. “My wife loves me.” He said simply, reaching a weak hand to pat feebly at her cheek but only got a tendril of her fiery red hair covered in blood. “I’m yours, you’re mine, all that good shit.” He nodded, laughing softly. . “But shh. Tell them - say there was five of ‘em. Big tough guys with mustaches. And knives. No, tell them they had dynamite and they were threatening to blow up kittens. No, babies. Wait...Kittens and babies.” He paused, thinking. “Nah. They’ll never believe that,” He said. “Nobody wears mustaches anymore.”
ooc; Apparently Desi bares his soul after being beaten half to death 8D Also, sorry for all the random rambles XD he’s totally out of it ahaaa
He was definitely off his trolley now, she decided. She hovered, concerned by the blood that was smeared all over that face of his. She wrung her hands, feeling useless now that the threat was neutralized. He was talking nonsense about his face, and she idly wondered if perhaps he’d gotten a concussion with all those blows. She turned, getting back to her feet and going back over to the unconscious jerk. She knelt by him, ripping a shred of the guy’s shirt because she refused to give up her own shirt, and was fairly sure Desi wouldn’t appreciate his being used either. Let this douche bag be shirtless. Maybe some of those Fulsi would molest him, might serve the sorry son of a gun right. She came back to Desidero, beginning to wipe carefully at the blood on his cheeks and around his eyes. Quinn had no experience with healing broken noses, or even how to set one for that matter. Her nose, fortunately, was still straight and in the same place it’d been born in. ”I been here, you twit. Now stop you’re smilin’, your justa’ makin’ it worse.” She patted at more of the blood, the shirt soaking it in with generous gulps.
The smell of blood was a little unsettling, but she swallowed the bile that threatened to rise. ’I was jus’ thinkin’…about…yaknow…well you know. It’s a shame she won’t ever see him again.’ She couldn’t recall what he was talking about, not sure exactly what the hell he was rambling about. She? Him? She folded the shirt over, still wiping away the smearing red. ”You’re a mess.” She murmured, and then he was laughing again about ‘Christ’. He was so out of it. So, so, so…out of it. She flicked him on the shoulder, trying her best not to be impatient with him. But it was quite the losing battle. ”Shut your mouth Desoto, before I knock you out cold.” Every movement of his face seemed to make more blood appear, and therefore she had to keep wiping away. She pushed the cloth to his nose, reaching and gripping one of his wrists. She was very careful to avoid skin contact as she guided his hand to his face to hold it there.
Blood dashed her fingertips, and she smudged it on her jeans, listening to his rambling. She was sure he was bulling her when he said he didn’t know how to fight, but she didn’t even open her mouth before he admitted the truth. He’d killed someone too. But while killing her father hadn’t left a dent in fighting with others, he’d been put off completely. They’d have to have a talk about him not fighting later, when he wasn’t drunk and beat half to death. She kept carefully quiet about his admittance, because she wasn’t sure if she should upset him by talking to him about that. Though it would definitely be a conversation later, as she tucked that little thought away. He was quiet then, for what seemed like hours even though it was only minutes. Quinn panicked, leaning in closer, to get a good look at him to make sure he wasn’t the color of candle wax.
My wife loves me.
Here’s the loopy crap again, she thought. His hand reached up, touching her hair with his bloody hand. She eyed the piece of hair from the corner of her eye, as he spoke again. ”Where in tha’ are you getting mine and yours? We ain’t nothin’ you and I.” She said, sitting back again. Bah. Desidero Desoto was more trouble than he was worth, and then he was back to his incoherent raves again. Something about mustaches and babies, because she really wasn’t paying him much attention at this point. She was a little consumed with other things, like if she should drag his ass back to her train car. Or, or drag him up under a table and leave him till common sense found him. ”What in blimey am I going to do with you, Desoto? You can’t fight, and you aren’t much good for anythin’ else either. “ She crossed her arms, lips twisted into an uncertain expression.
drink up baby doll
ooh are you in or are you out?
sig (c) han ♥
eighteen - female - complicated! - maned wolf anthro - fallen omega/reformed rogue
+hearing;+speed;+healing;
”I been here, you twit. Now stop you’re smilin’, your justa’ makin’ it worse.”
“Stop smilin'? No nay never, not I!” He burst out laughing again at the little bit of lyrical song, but it ended in a wheeze of pain as patted at his face with the shirt. It stung like hell but he supposed it was better than nothing. ”You’re a mess.”“Dun' look at me then! I ain't fit for your eyes!” He flailed uselessly, the smile back a million times over, relentless in his optimism, even it if was out of sheer lack of awareness at the situation. At her threat his head lolled to the side and he blinked one-eyed at her, confused but thoughtful. "Q, m'dear, I think I am...have been...concussed."
She made him hold the wad of bloody cloth to his nose to stop the bleeding and he winced at the sting of pain. Although the rest of his body had gone quite wonderfully numb. Delightfully numb. In fact, he felt so good. And really, really, reaaaally tired. "I'm sleepy," He said, his voice slightly nasally and muffled through the cloth he pressed to his face. "I think Imma sleep now, Q. My ego can't take another hit like that one yeah?" He scoffed. "Saved by a broad. If the guys they hear that? Fogetta 'bout it, I'm out!"
He was clearly and directly ignoring her orders, being a bit of a bad sport as it was. Wasn't in his right mind, of course! Of course he wasn't! No no no, he'd just been beaten half to death by some big Fulsi jerk who probably copped a feel while he was at it. That made him uncomfortable so he found himself trying his best to stifle a laugh, though he kept it down at a stern glare from Quinn. "Alright alright, 'm sorry. I'll be a good doggie and shuddup." He said and made the motion of zipping his lips with his other free hand.
”Where in tha’ are you getting mine and yours? We ain’t nothin’ you and I.”
He shook his head and made the motion again, but damn him to hell and back he couldn't keep his damned trap shut. "I heard you say it when you was beatin' that guys face in." He pursed his lips. "Sexy as hell." He paused. "A little intimidating, scary...but damned if it wasn't sexiest shit ever."
”What in blimey am I going to do with you, Desoto? You can’t fight, and you aren’t much good for anythin’ else either. “
"PPFFFFT. What? What? You, you've gotta be kiddin me huh?" He said, starting with a laugh that ended with a gurgling, bloody cough. "I'm good for lots of things. Like a good screw, really good at that. What you Brits call shaggin I guess. You got funny words for stuff." Desidero sighed good humoredly. "And I can fight too, fight like hell. I jus don't." He coughed up another mouthful of blood and winced as the throbbing in his head suddenly overwhelmed him in a swirl of black. It was a miracle he'd stayed conscious this long.
He was silent for a long time, gasping for air through the waves of agonizing pain lacing his skull. "Q-Qui...nn..." He said through a rasp of blood, one caramel brown eye searching the room for him. "I need a h-healer..."
ooc; innappropriatelols. he also talks too much XD Dunno if you wanna end thread here with your next post? Don't really know what else to do :x
She had half a mind to leave his ass, gritting her teeth and trying to ignore his ‘saved by a broad’ comment. He’s out of his mind. She thought, clenching her hands at her sides. But lotso’ people say what they mean when they’re out of it. She thought, fighting off the urge to leave him laying here and letting that Fulsi get a hold of him again once he woke up. It’d be a bit simpler to leave him; because it was likely she wouldn’t run into the guy again. Quinn rocked back on her heels and pinched the bridge of her nose, letting her eyes squeeze shut. ”I didn’t say nothing you bumbling idjit. You’re loose in the head.” She muttered, shifting up to her feet. The Fulsi was still quiet, and probably wouldn’t remember much the next morning or whenever the hell he woke up. Quinn couldn’t just leave him here, that much was obvious. If she had his back, then he’d be obligated to have hers at some point; Right? Hopefully the bloke would have some kind of moral compass, because apparently she did. As the guy finally settled, she went about trying to figure out how she was going to lug him back to the Fallenring. He obviously wasn’t going to be able to get there on his own two feet, and the bar had mostly cleared out. She rubbed a hand over her face, taking just a moment to rub at the blood he’d managed to get in her hair. Damn Desoto. She huffed, not looking forward to having to carry him. He looked heavy, and Quinn didn’t do manual labor. She scowled, his gurgle causing a sense of panic to swell. Okay, did a face shot really get that bad? ”I got ya, chill out.” The redhead bent at the waist, hooking her arms under his larger body. She heaved him up a little, hooking her fingers together across his chest. This was going to kill her back come morning, she grumbled. She dragged him across the dirty bar floor, huffing and puffing. ”Weighs like seven hundred pounds… doesn’t look that heavy on the outside…mother…effer.” She muttered, dragging away from the bar and back toward the Fallenring borders. And her boxcar. Even though, she had a very good idea that this was going to be a very bad idea.
drink up baby doll
ooh are you in or are you out?
sig (c) han ♥
eighteen - female - complicated! - maned wolf anthro - fallen omega/reformed rogue
+hearing;+speed;+healing;
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