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Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2015 1:19:41 GMT
We've not yet lost all of our graces
Feilyn did have the occasional drinks. Being a doctor wasn't easy. He worked late shifts, watching people come in day in day out with all sorts of problems. Broken bones, illness, all sorts of diseases and situations he had to take care of. Thinking about others dying because he couldn't find a solution to their problem was a little overwhelming but he got the job done either way. He had to, of course. His mother had taught him well, she was a good mother but his father... not so much.
He didn't have much memory of his dad. He just remembered his frame and how he was. He remembered the scars he had given his dear mom, the possessive and insane nature to him. His earliest memory was huddling up against a flat pelt, a flank to be precise. But that didn't mean all his memories were bad, no of course not. He had his sister Eponine. She was truly a joy to have. He remembered the days where they'd fly out of the cave and run around in the fields, squealing as they chased each other round and round like a horse on a carousel.
Folding his white coat and tucking it away in his truck, he packed himself into the car and went out for a drive. To where? The only place he knew that had alcohol. It was more of a relief to him than anything, to be honest. Beer could of been bitter but really it just took his mind off of the poor people that came in every day, asking for help. Some of them didn't have enough money to pay for it, which deeply saddened him that in order to get relief or saviors you had to pay. Which in all honest was a little stupid of humans but he didn't judge... Sort of.
Slowly opening the door, he walked into the club walk into the club liek with his brown eyes averted from the stage where the inappropriately dressed woman danced. Humans were such strange creatures, what did they particularly get out of this? Scoffing softly, he sat himself into his bar seat and laid his hands across the marbled counter. He ordered his beer with a smooth push of his hair back, dull eyes staring ahead as he yawned.
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Eponine Graves
Fable
Even the most vicious of dogs require affection.
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App: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/186/eponine-graves
Plot: http://free-rein.boards.net/thread/504/porkchop-perfect
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Post by Eponine Graves on Mar 24, 2015 2:57:54 GMT
[googlefont="Herr Von Muellerhoff:400"] [presto]  tagged: @feilyn notes: meow muse: sugar[/presto] law of blood Honestly, why did humans enjoy their women hardly clothed? Sure, it gave one a nice breeze every now and again, but was that really important? The slender woman found herself dancing atop the stage provided within the neon lit club. She could see the apparent happiness on the men's faces that sat below, throwing cash her way every now and again.
Eponine didn't really consider herself 'beautiful', unique yes, but beautiful? Please. She wasn't as self conscious as human women often found themselves to be. After a good fifteen minutes more of providing entertainment for the bystanders she exited the stage, being offered a much deserved break. She grabbed her coat from one of the nearby coat hangars and draped it around her shoulders.
She approached the bar, but she wasn't much of a drinker. Man's excuse for an exotic beverage tasted more like soggy raccoon urine, not that she would know what that tasted like of course. She found herself occupying a bar stool adjacent to a rather burly man.
The bartender approached the bar, inquiring of the woman as to what she wanted to drink. "Sorry, I do not partake in the drinking of hoomin intoxications." She spoke as though it should have been obvious, but instead she got an incredibly confused look from the bartender before he eventually wandered off.
With a sigh she reached into the coat pocket and retrieved the necklace she had fashioned from the feathers of her mother and brother, Feilyn. She fumbled with the slightly tailored feathers gently, and there was a slight tug at her heart for she missed her family. Alas, she was a young adult now, although by human standards this was apparently 'the prime' of their life.
As the woman turned in her seat she caught sight of the man next to her and it caused her to pause. "....Feilyn?" She whispered before she reached out with her hands, no warning whatsoever, and touched the man's face as though his would be different from any other. "You're so different as a hoomin, but I know it's you. You've always smelled of pine nettles." She spoke before dropping her hands and grabbing the necklace that she had fashioned, gently pushing it across the counter towards the man. "Brother..do you remember me?" She asked hopefully, surely her brother had not forgotten her after all this time? made by ∆ ashycat of adoxography |
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Post by Deleted on May 1, 2015 0:11:10 GMT
We've not yet lost all of our graces
Pain brought many memories. It resided in everybody, we all would have it at one point. Whether it would consume us until each passing day seemed like a labor to breathe or it was quick and easy, like ripping off a band-aid. The man never experienced pain, pity? Maybe. Stress and guilt, sure. He didn't have a scarred childhood like some people, he knew nothing of the danger others could bring. He was well aware of the power they could inflict, but not to the extent where they would actually use it to purposely wound another. It was sick, for one. What would they get out of seeing the pain of another? Joy? It was temporary and really how could anybody find happiness or amusement in such an activity. Seeing things his way was a lot better than seeing things the way his father did. He was such a jealous creature, fueled by not lust or love, but hatred and abuse. His mother had taught him to be smart. To never let people take advantage of her, because once you were down and somebody saw this and rather than help and take advantage of you, you would never get back up. He knew of only one shadow in his life... his father was never a kind creature to his children or his mom. And whether that made him stronger or left him without a father figure to look up to, he wasn't sure. But, he was okay with how he was in life. Call it cheesy, but he had been taught by the best after all.
He couldn't hear the pitter patter of feet approaching from behind over the noise of the crowd, but it was too late to be alerted of the new presence when the woman was suddenly next to him. "Sorry, I do not partake in the drinking of hoomin intoxications." Hoomins? What kinda word is that? The voice echoed in his mind before slowly glancing over to the woman. He saw the necklace held within her hand, the soft and shiny feathers quietly glimmering in the dim light. He would remember those anywhere, he knew of his own feathers quite well... he knew of the pain of having to leave his sister's side. That was the only pain he would ever have (or at least that's what it seemed like). His brown eyes slowly trailed up to the face that belonged to the hands holding the precious objects. "...E-Eponine?" He echoed her name, something he had not said in a long time. "....Feilyn?" There it was. Her sweet voice, although matured, it was still the same as it always had been. "You're so different as a hoomin, but I know it's you. Youve always smelled of pine nettles." A chuckle rumbled from his throat as her hands found way to lay against the side of his face. "Brother.. do you remember me?" He slowly nodded. "Always, Eponine... I could never forget your voice." He murmured before wrapping his arms around her thin and lean frame. "You're so grown up.." He whispered as his chin rested against her shoulder. She had grown up into such a beautiful woman... such elegance and grace. But... why was she so.. thinly dressed?
Slowly pulling away from the hug he offered, he glanced down at the... well lack of clothing. "...Eponine, dear, what are you wearing?" He wondered out loud before glancing to the stage. "Do you work here?"
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