the same things [kriss/Keller]

[ivoiresvenn]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=b7bcbf] H E A V E N ' S N O T E N O U G H

[/font]
if when im there i dont remember you[/font][/center]

Her ears flickered slightly and she glanced over her shoulder, her muscles tense with caution. Her blue-green eyes shifted cautiously around the metal graveyard and she shivered slightly as the hackles stood upon her back and neck. She was cold, somewhat hungry, and very tired. And lying on top of one of those warm, inviting hunks of metal was too hard for the spotted hyena to resist. She circled the area a few times before deciding to rest upon a long, random flab of metal that lay directly on top of what seemed to be an old shack. As soon as her rounded haunches reached the center of the lukewarm metal, she instantly curled into a ball around herself, ears pricked, listening for any sorts of sound or movements.

Within time, she fell into a soft, light sleep, her breath making little wisps of white clouds as she dreamed of home; of rolling waves of grass and the calls or larks and mockingbirds. Not that she didn’t hear them now, but they weren’t the same. Hell, nothing was ever really the same.

She twitched in her sleep, her chest moving slowly as she relaxed upon the metal roof, her legs spared out before her, head resting on the metal, and tail lying uselessly against her hind legs. When the sun rarely shone through the thick, winter clouds, her coat gleamed a light red in the sunlight, an odd color against the bland, grey coloring of the metal.

She was home. Not in Germany home, but in her old cabin home, with Jakob and Wolfgang. They were smiling, chasing each other as Wolfgang’s bloody crow, Krähe, flew in the air, cawing at all the excitement that rumbled below. And here came Wolfgang, arms outstretched towards Ivoire, his dark, red hair sprawling out behind him, eyes gleaming with excitement. And it was warm. God, it was so warm. It smelled like honey and lavender, and dandelion fuzz floated around both Wolfgang and Ivoire as she picked him up in her arms. But then everything grew cold. The grass began to die under her feet, and the wind became harsh against her pale skin. Confused, she looked down to see her son, to only find that his own body was cold and lifeless.

Ivoire awoke with a start, her eyes flying open. Confused, she sat up on her elbows, eyes searching the area for her son, all the while wondering why she suddenly grew cold. Looking up, the realized time had flown with her nap and the sun had begun to sink below the horizon as flakes of snow fell from the dark clouds above. Finally realizing where she was, Ivoire sighed quietly and jumped off the shack’s roof and moved underneath it, curling up in the corner farther in the back, with her head facing the entrance. Feeling down, she tucked her nose under her tail and watched the snow slowly fall onto the ground.

God, she hated snow.

[/color][/blockquote][/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[krisslee4]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,400,true]

[atrb=background,http://fotos.fotoflexer.com/f4bcc84ae139e07467f01de89ee2930f.jpg] The world was a blur—a fading, fleeting blur, that he was no part of. Sometimes Keller felt as if he was simply watching the play of things. He sometimes felt as if he was simply standing, sitting, remaining perfectly still as the world rushed by unaffected by his presence. He would move and do and live and breathe, but sometimes he didn’t really feel alive. Maybe this is why he had thrown his face backwards, allowing the cold air to sting in his eyes as he watched the stark clouds above. This dreary weather had been fairly constant, as of late—the memory of a blue sky seemed very distant, and in its place reigned recollections of stormy heavens as a tempest brewed with snow and ice, bidding it’s time to release the heavy load of frozen material unto the earth again. A shudder ranked down the leopard’s spine, flicking his tail with annoyance, Keller lurched forward through the debris. Rumor had it that these lands had once belonged to the anthros, but not they were void and desolate—no man’s land, unclaimed and wasting away. He could not imagine why anyone would feel like visiting this place; due to the fact it seemed to be a heaving structure of rusting metals and rotting wood. Although the odor of decay was not in the air, Keller could not help but feel as if the entire area was being forced into a state of slow decomposition. For, after all, it was completely and utterly lack of life. Void of any signs of something living. Why was Keller even here? The skeletal wasteland –the junkyard—was infinitely unwelcoming. However, he had no where better to be. He was not scheduled to go on a scouting expedition any time soon, and the free time was like leaden weight on his mind. See now, Keller was highly dependent on the constant and rhythmic distraction that scouting provided him. It was how he got by daily in the Menagerie. It was his way to… pass time. To keep himself busy, so that he did not succumb to the doubts that oftentimes swarmed in the back of his mind. Air whistled out of his flaring nostrils. He scented the bitter air, flesh rippling with quicksilver tremors—it was downright cold out, as it so often was in the wintertime. Keller’s muscles felt stiff from the cold, and he continued to lurk through the skeletal pathway of the junkyard. His head was held low, shoulders riding up against the canvas of his golden, black rosette-covered fur coat. It was about then that he finally caught scent of another Fallen in the area, which caught Keller off guard. His tail curled, his gray eyes narrowing in thought as he inhaled deeper to catch the lingering aroma. Yes, indeed—that was the telltale Fallen scent. As to why this particular Ring member was here was beyond him, though (not like he wasn’t there. Snow was falling—biting into his fur, but not touching his skin. For this he was grateful. Despite the essence of the cold in the air, it could not touch him in his leopard form the same way it could touch him in his human form. The warmth of fur had been an allure that Keller had been all-too tempted to in response to this winter weather. So he shook his body and trotted forth on large paws until he came across a shack. Keller stood, examining its exterior for an instant with his stormy-colored eyes—they tended to shift and change with the lighting, just like the clouds above his head just then. They would be dark and they would be light, before shifting back again and intermingling with shared hues. Rounded ears flicked forth indolently on his skull, as Keller harked into the shabby shed for any sort of sounds. He wasn’t particularly attempting to be discrete in his approach, for he loomed just outside the doorway, peering in with keen feline vision. After an instant, the shadows began to form shapes—what he saw first the relatively canine shape of a creature clustered in the corner, thrown their like a ragdoll, with a muzzle buried in the wisps of its tail. He knew the fellow Fallen was probably attempting to seek warmth in the shack, considering it was snowing outside (it was surely about to start dumping, wasn’t it? It usually did. He moved forward once more, until he stood in the doorway, where Keller settled down on his haunches. He, despite his normal antisocial nature, was feeling somewhat bold now. Not because, exactly, he wanted to talk to anyone. It was simply that he was feeling lonely, just like he always one. Keller spent the majority of his time alone, now-a-days. ”What are you doing out here all alone, Fallen?” The leopard inquired, the speech rolling out of his mouth in the ragged form of shiftertongue. ”… I mean it’s awful cold out to be here.” Keller continuously proved himself to be a sort of irony—after all, he was out there in the cold all by his lonesome until he’d stumbled across this hyena shifter.

[/size][/color][/td][/tr]
[tr][td]

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[ivoiresvenn]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][bg=b7bcbf] H E A V E N ' S N O T E N O U G H

[/font]
if when im there i dont remember you[/font][/center]

Ivoire sighed and closed her eyes, letting her ears fall flat against her robust skull. She didn’t see him approach, but she heard him, and sighed once more when he spoke to her. Silently, she wished he would go away, but when she peeked through her thick lashes, he was still there. “Last time I checked,” she said, her German accent quite distinctive even when in hyena form, echoed through the little metal shack. “It is quite cold everywhere.” She moved a little bit and emerged into the open, noticing that the leopard was closer to the entrance than she expected. Feeling too close, she slithered to the right, squeezing between the other Fallen and the shack.

“Plus,” she added, “My old bones needed some resting. And dis was the only place I could find. Got any better places dat are warm, besides having to huddle in a ball with others? If you do, den please, tell me, so I don’t have to lie in dis metal infested place.”

She shrugged her shoulders and turned her massively large head to the right, watching the snow as it fell to ground. Without turning her head back to the Fallen male, she asked, “And what about you, hm? Why are you out here, in die cold? And what are you called?” Ivoire then turned her blue gaze towards his, ears perked in curiosity. After all, it was cold, and he, too, was alone. He might have had a reason, unlike her, except that she thought the Fallen was quite well fed for the moment, and needed time to be alone. It had been over three years since she’d been in this Godless place, and yet she still felt like she was outside of everything. She found herself daydreaming of the outside world quite often, but never spoke of it. She daydreamed of escaping with the others, of finally being rid of this hell of a place she had to call home.

“I am called Renarde. Hunter for the Fallen.” She eyed him for a moment, shivering as the snow melted against her already wet coat. This sort of weather was not to her liking, and she was obviously not meant for cold, wet places. Regardless of the fact she was born further north than here, but it seemed colder. Or maybe it was because she was colder. Either way, she wanted warmth, and couldn’t wait for the spring and summer seasons would return. She missed basking in the warm sunlight.

OOC: crappypostcrappypost sorry D;

[/color][/blockquote][/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[krisslee4]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,400,true]

[atrb=background,http://fotos.fotoflexer.com/f4bcc84ae139e07467f01de89ee2930f.jpg] Indeed, t’wasn’t it loneliness that gnawed at the fibers of his heartstrings and threatened to make the entire sad, cold structure collapse? Keller shook out his head, ears rotating forth on the arc of his skull towards the curled form in the shack who spoke to him. He realized now that the creature was the broad form of a hyena, but he also knew that there was a human heart laying somewhere beneath a beast’s face and voice. Her words almost made him smile, but Keller’s feline face was unresponsive to such an expression, and the only thing he managed was a twitch of long whiskers. ”That is true—it is cold everywhere,” Keller said, his voice laced with slight, wry humor. ”But I imagine it’s colder here than it would be back in Fallen territory where you could find a train car or people or a fire.” His Russian accent was audible even in his leopard shape, tugging at his words, thickening them and making them come in a sort of drawl. His tempest-gray eyes followed her movements, although his head never shifted. She seemed somewhat uncomfortable, he noticed, and as a result Keller took a careful step backwards to allow her more “breathing space”. The bitter cold air of winter filled his nostrils and bit at his nose and eyes, and he felt a shudder rank itself down his spine… God, what he wouldn’t give right now for a fire. For a nice, warm, burning fire that radiated warmth and comfort and life. But, alas, there was no fire near to warm him, nor the wood to make it. The leopard shrugged his shoulders, the movement empty and seemingly mechanical. Keller realized slowly that he hadn’t ever really heard an accent like hers prior, and it momentarily transfixed him. He had been surrounded by Russian one’s for most of his life, lacking much variety—his parents had been American in origin, but he had been raised in an entirely different country to develop an entirely different voice. Being released into the Menagerie meant that he was also exposed to numerous types of new, strange people. Keller was caught off-guard by her inquiry, however. What about you, hm? Why are you out here in die cold? What a good question! Why was he out here in the cold? He could be anywhere else if he wanted, but much like this woman, Keller had been in the Menagerie for some time, and yet he had not developed any sense of family in the Fallen. He had no real friends, no family to be found there. So then Keller shrugged his supple feline shoulders again, his gray eyes keen on the shape of the female in the darkness. ”Because I’ve got nowhere better to be,” He murmured, ears flicking forward once again as his tail curled around his haunches. The cold sting of snow was present, melting on the surface of his tawny fur. He shook his body briefly, to shed the gathering dampness, before continuing. ”I’m Jeremy Keller, Fallen Scout. But if you like you can just call me Keller; it’s what everyone else does.” Normally a man of very few words, he stumbled over them now for just a moment. The awkwardness and stiffness of the speech, however, was soon forgotten as he pushed away and his discomfort. occ;! sorry for the wait and the suckiness of this post. I’m so braindead >.>

[/size][/color][/td][/tr]
[tr][td]

[/td][/tr][/table][/center]