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    1. Virgil 9 yrs ago

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@Mokley Ifor intends to go along towards the windmill with Oliver, and I'd definitely be up for collaboration!
Reflection preached that smiles shrewd often tentatively break, yet why then would ‘honest’ eyes yet swear by an honest make? By all the stars glittering and strewn wildly in the shattered dim’s wake, if Truth was the issue…would he really be lying here, awake? Ifor rumbled in irritation – at the throbbing cries of his wounds, at his lack of context on this mysterious stretch of rock and grit...and something about the only partially revealed stranger still had his mind at unease. However, the strongest chain was only determined by its weakest link, and a chain of one bruised and weathered link couldn’t carry much favor in the eyes of the Fateful Hags; with a heave and a grunt, Ifor towed himself up onto an equal knee by “Oliver’s” outstretched hand.

The orange rimlight slanted askew across the fresh-faced man’s previously silhouetted visage, and by a passing observation the spark of awareness suddenly jumped to life within the hunchback’s tamed gaze: …Golde.

For a moment he sat in still silence, pondering the relevance of this new information, before lingering over towards his left – towards that wayward beacon of age and security. The outline stood proud despite its decrepit figure, cast as a cutout a midst the backdrop of a horizon inflamed - and though he still lacked a proper foundation of trust within the stranger’s invitation, the hunchback found himself nodding in agreement. The foaming waves gurgled behind them in anticipation.

…But a new question yet languished on the edge of his weary mind:


“…The Dawhn lhies dihhm t’dhay, noh?”
edit: ugh, I've been working on this for hours and it's boring as heck. I refuse to post a boring as heck update. x.x


Well, I'm available if you want to brainstorm some ideas together - in fact, why not make it an open collaboration for everyone to join in on (if they want to)? We could set up a temporary discord and pretend that we're professional writers for a day!

youtube.com/watch?v=2RqglwnF4AI
@Mokley Ifor continues to sit on the beach waiting for a post; other than that, I think my end is fine - ready to roll at any time.
@Mokley Apologies, I rushed the ending on it. Golde hasn't factored into the equation for Ifor yet, but I don't think he'd give anything away unless explicitly questioned about it - why should he betray the existence of another he's starting to respect to someone he hasn't an inkling about? As for the lacking remark, that's just him being a grumpy ass - the essential inflection is: "I see no reason to explain myself to you until you explain yourself to me first. I don't trust you, I find this annoying at the moment, but I don't perceive you to be an immediately lethal threat; Level with me."

Given his current physical condition and lack of immediate surrounding context, Ifor is most likely to just sit down with the stranger for a semi-awkward chat, so the plot on his end isn't going ANYWHERE until he knows where the rest of those strawberries are! youtube.com/watch?v=nndGGnOFvMk

Cons of being very reactive as opposed to very proactive.
Somewhat Decent Post's Status: E X E C U T E D!!!!!!!!!
The familiar stranger stood strong before the squabbling trio with an almost regal air, his front slightly masked by the harsh shade of the sun while all around his figure there seemed to shimmer a glowing outline in likeness of the favor of The Eye itself. He was lean yet muscular, with short, black, balding hair covering his crown; His face was rough, showing evidence of a lifetime of harsh circumstances in the twist of his nose and the droop of his lazy left eye - and though now lax in posture, the forearms and hands betrayed a somewhat more martial background. Yet despite the sharp tones of his build and the firm silhouette he cast across the wilted flax, Sedric clearly possessed a more than 'civilized' sense of style about him - and if for nothing else than vanity or the fancy of the nobility, his garments remained well-kept and tidy...flaring ever-so-slightly into the realms of flamboyancy, yet lacking in that crucial appearance of utter, criminal wealth of status, as was befitting of those others born properly of the mercantile or manipulative classes.

"Plheasahnt's nh't eksaktly teh whaarding Ih hehrd yah lohst describe't ahs, Ghabrye...", Sedric snorted, clawing at the sweat irritating his hazel eyes, "...bhu bhesyhd tha' besyhde, whaat's this quarrel ghone off 'bout? These toho bhrrats stihl acktin' their age?" Mother out-scoffed the weary traveler with the ease of a sow well-acclimated to the discordant squeals of her litter, waving a hand over the ragged pair with an offhanded wisdom: "Age? Boys'r 'n ageless loht - one mohmehn they'cud tahlk teh earh off'a philosopher, the verry next they'll beh tossin' uhp dihrt lyhk ah couple o' acrid ol' gohats." She grinned smugly at Sedric, eyeing him up and down; "...Although Ih see suhm of'ya Billies 'ave prog'rest tah walking on tywo lhegs."

Ifor caught the faintest of smiles flickering on by under the reddened man's gaunt cheeks, and though its immediate meaning was lost to him, he couldn't help but notice the slight resemblance of character possessed by the two elders. What two rival constellations did writhe in battle amidst opal skies on the night of these two warriors' births? What strange coin affixed itself between those houses of an ancient and singular, trivial lineage - to repeat the cyclical tradition of enmity that had possessed their families for generations? How much longer would such an ancient ritual carry on when the former house bore stunted offspring and the latter remained single - or was that time yet to come? Would he too eventually be forced to suffer through the incessant nature of some spiritually-molded agitator? "What, isn't't legaal fer ah man tah carry ah grudge?"

"If 'tis, yhour lhisense 'as certanely exphired bye now, Sehdric."

"..."

"..."

"...KHOM'ERE, YOU TROUBLEMAKER YOUH!", cried the hunter to the exasperated shrieks of his quarry, yanking the smaller woman's balance out from underneath her with one fluent motion; Like a ragdoll he hurled her tan frame over his right shoulder, jutting a finger out towards the two youths fixed adjacent beneath the mischievous glow of his mile-wide grin: "Let's cuht this dreahdfall heat with uh fhew drinks, ahye bohys? WHO'S WITH ME!?"

Ifor and Scrounger exchanged glances, then looked back and shrugged; "Youh payin?", Ifor inquired in his usual monotone base, to which Sedric briefly struggled to retrieve a rather fat pouch of coins. The prosperous jingle of its girth set a twinkle in Scrounger's attentive blues, and with hands like a thief he sharply snatched the purse away for his own anxious inspection. "Taste them ihf yah lyhke, Lhiehihn - buht'ashure youh, they're ahl ohf honhest'mhint; straight from the Chief Constable's pocket toh mah own." The lanky lad sifted his fingers through the pouch with dazed disbelief, while from over Sedric rumbled the thunderous portentousness of a tempest about to burst; "Ifor, tell this kraass bhull toh set youhr muhther down, 'fore ah certain sumwonn eahrns ah slight ihmped'mint toh their ghaite..."

"Sedric, ghonna nheed youh tuh puht'er dohwn 'fore Ih ehndupp havin' tah geld yhar liddle-fellas."

"Oh-ho-ho!", the elder man replied, holding the squirming, black-maned woman firmly between the crook of his arm; "Tha' sohnds lyhke ah biht ohf ah challenge toh mee! Oh, but ihf'tis, yu'd buhst hahve sumethin' tuh wayge'r, aye? Wha' shall'ee wayge'r, Gahbrye?"

"...Aih hate youh."

"Heh-Heeh, I knoh - buh'tha' doesn't 'nswer myh question!", Sedric chuckled, his feet beginning to shift anxiously from the weight. She sighed, grumbling: "Aih dunno...Sohmthin' he won'mis, then..."

"LO, WEH HAVE AH VOLUNTEER!"

"Whai', wHA--", was about all she could say before a sudden jolt shifted the vowels inside her mouth into a hoarse gurgle; and just like that, the race was on. Yet, Ifor's feet stood planted, and he suddenly felt...strange...ethereal. He glanced up into the streaming glare of the sun, but was instead met with a harsh and sudden darkness. Reality spun unnervingly about him, and then all at once he felt cold, wet, and more than slightly odorous...and not a pleasant type of smell either. With a jerk, his eyes flicked open to the ravenous dim - and there, just above him, sat..."Him." Nothing else occupied the space around them - the air was quiet, save for the ambient lapping of the waves against the spongy sands.

"...You will be drowned by the tide, if you stay here much longer."

"............

.............

.............Youh'r ahn ahstute 'uhn."
ISP killed the net for about 14 hours on my end, but I should still have a post up by tonight; I'm feeling pretty good about how this one's been coming along, too ^_^).

Best of luck to the rest of you!
Looks like Elliot just got Sheogorathed: youtube.com/watch?v=JC5MwptQc7I
Just out of precaution, I'd like to remind the peeps that Golde and Ifor are currently about an hour (maybe less) away from the last location; if anything heads up that way, it'll need a bit of a timelapse first. Otherwise, we're golden!
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