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@gunpxwder-blog
So someone said to me that you can never meet a good person off the Internet. I want to prove them wrong. Reblog if you've met someone from the Internet and they've turned out to be one of the best people to ever exist.
I’ve known that to be bull about as long as the Internet has existed.
Case in point: Kjorteo was one of the very first people I ever met online, and has been one of my best friends ever since.
"Who said you looked like an idiot? You look fine."
"Tch, thanks-- But it's really not my style."
"And nobody did. I just think so."
"I can’t imagine anyone liking me." A small chuckle left her lips. "I don’t have a lot of friends anyways." She pushed the pot aside to check for later.
"I should talk to more people?" That thought honestly never crossed her mind. "I guess that’s one way. I wonder how I’ll do it.. I mean I can’t randomly go up to someone and ask them to check out my shop. I wonder if there’s a way… I don’t usually talk to people.."
"Huh? Why would people dislike you?" She seemed perfectly nice to him, though his views weren't always shared with others.
"Of course you can. But, ah, you have a point... There are a couple ways to advertise your shop without looking like some crazy solicitor, though. Just go out, get some coffee or something, hand out flyers, have a sale... Meeting people isn't hard, if you really want to do it!"
She turns around and bumps her shoulder against him on accident. “Are you bald under there?”
"What?! No!" Takes his hat off for a moment.
"I just look like an idiot."
Shackles and Chains | gunpxwder // remuel-wolfe
As soon as his palm made contact and his fingers tangled into Cameron’s tousled hair, his eyes widened. A fire seemingly shot through the fibrous tissues in his irises. It pulsated with hunger and his eyes became wild, wild with blood lust. There was something trying to break through and it glinted strongly even in the musky bar. There was some wild and untamed beast within that seemed to be clawing its way through Remuel’s uncontrolled behavior. A tremor rippled through Remuel’s flexed arm as soon as Cameron’s forehead smashed against the counter top’s surface. The hard top splintered and cracked under the immense impact that it received.
For a moment, Remuel held his hand where it was, keeping Cameron’s head pressed down. The crazed feeling that had been consuming him washed away as he successfully dealt a fatal blow. His chest rose and fell, the adrenaline still pounding in his veins as he stared at Cameron’s form. Nonetheless, Remuel didn’t assume that he was victorious, he couldn’t. Even if he was, he wouldn’t celebrate. His eyes narrowed on the apprentice’s back and this was when he let his fingers slip away, releasing the other male from his vise grip. Every inch of Remuel’s body crawled with vigor but he remained standing with his arms limp at his sides, shoulders slumped, and his spine slightly arced.
Any normal fighter would have turned and walked away. Perhaps bought a round of shots for everyone for having won the fight but Remuel didn’t win. He knew because Cameron’s form didn’t relax or slump after his head had been crushed against the counter top. As if to prove his point, a few gasps or murmurs of excitement were elicited around the bar as Cameron conjured the strength to push his head up off the counter. Remuel’s head craned lower and he slightly canted his head to the left as he examined Cameron rise from ‘the dead’. Of course he wasn’t really dead and he never died but the metaphor suited the situation. After all, a normal person wouldn’t be able to endure such an incredible blow.
His hazel eyes followed the trail of crimson that trickled down Cameron’s forehead and the contours of the male’s face. The fire that had been in Remuel’s eyes were no longer lit and he blinked as if dumbfounded by Cameron’s suggestion. The rogue pulled out the lighter from his pocket and shifted his vision temporarily onto the device, flicking the lid open and letting the flame flicker. He watched the blaze glow with curiosity, wondering exactly what Cameron meant by what he said. However, he didn’t get to think too long when a gust of wind rushed into the bar. The rogue knew no boundaries or rules that rested in a pub, let alone a kingdom. He only knew the life of a lone wolf. The only rules he were to abide by were his own.
As the flame flared in the direction of which the wind blew, Remuel’s head shot up to entrance.
The king’s men. Remuel’s eyes had gone from uncontrollable blood lust, to blank, and lastly, a deer in headlights in only moments. He snapped the lid of his lighter shut and he was about to whip away. His mind was set on fleeing and he knew that there was a back exit to this tavern. Remuel was quick but as fleeting as his movements were, like a fox in a hound chase, he had not been expecting Cameron’s interception. The jarring feeling shot up through his leg and he staggered into a table. An acidic glare was thrown in Cameron’s direction and the male bared his teeth. One may have noticed that his canine’s were slightly sharper than the average human’s.
He pushed off of from the table, unable to attack Cameron further if he wanted to escape. But the guardsmen weren’t alone. The bartender had a few employees that blocked his escape and one of them had unsheathed a sword. He had a variety of weapons on his belt but Remuel knew he that if he fought anyone in the presence of the king’s men, that he would put his status into further jeapoardy. Remuel was trapped and he felt cornered. He scanned the scene steadily, relaxing and keeping his demeanor composed. He refused to let anyone know how frantic he truly was with the current situation. He gradually turned back to face the men that were collecting toward them, accepting what was to come.
“Under the king’s orders, you’re now under arrest for breaking not one but several of Shyr’s policies,” one of the guardsmen had stepped forward to speak, whilst a few others gathered around Cameron and Remuel. The rogue ground his teeth but his lips remained in a straight line as he stared ahead at nothing in particular. Remuel’s eyebrow twitched but he remained still, even as they began to unbuckle his straps and confiscate all the weapons he wore around his torso. Only when someone started to pull his hefty black pelt off, did he take a daring step toward the man. His dire wolf cloak, that was his, and always would be… or so, Remuel’s possessive mind thought so until now. Before he could do anything, his actions were halted. His wrists were roughly grabbed and forced behind his back. In place of the the man’s calloused hands, there was a cold metal that clasped over his wrists. Hand cuffs. Remuel glared daggers at the man who marveled at the fur.
“Oh~ You like this thing huh? I’ll make sure to sell it for a good price, don’t worry,” The guard crooned upon seeing Remuel’s reaction. Although Remuel made no immediate response of agitation, one could see in his burning eyes how much he was restraining himself. The mocking guard earned a warning glare from the spokesman. Outside of the tavern was a carriage that pulled up and they were hastily led in that direction.
This was bad. This was very bad.
That glare, though it was only a short reaction and something seemed slightly off, was more than he'd been hoping for. Small victories like this-- even if they were both about to be arrested-- made the scales of this mistake tip towards almost being worth it, though he knew it meant that his career had just met an abrupt and bitter end. All he'd hoped to accomplish was spoiled by one action, and honestly, if he let his emotions get in the way like that, the apprentice questioned if he was really ready in the first place.
Cameron's treatment had been slightly less physically rough, but the expressions and reactions from the guards were worse than any of the pain he'd gone through that night. They didn't even search him; everybody knew he went around unarmed. The one attaching on his own pair of cuffs refused to look at him, but he had a great view of everyone else.
Remuel's guard just smirked and shook his head. He'd been here last time as well, and while that was annoying, the captain and most of his friends just looked... Disappointed. He'd never had parental figures in his life, not even the old man who'd raised him. To have someone look at him like that sparked a completely new feeling. He hadn't even been offered that kind of reaction in the previous fight; that was just anger and humiliation all around, but this-- It stung more than the rest.
Once they'd both been restrained, Cameron turned his attention to the man who'd just strolled in and started all of this again. He didn't look too happy, either, but... Wait a minute, where was this going? Normally, bar fights with law involvement were either settled through bribery or the prisoners being walked to the temporary holding cell a few blocks away. This was an unusual turn of events, and he didn't like it at all.
Surely they weren't being treated as SC's, right? Special Circumstances were reserved for arresting assassins and spies, not two guys who got in a barfight... Unless, someone had already told Cam's supervisor. Then, no doubt, that's where they'd be going, and he'd have the right to pass judgement and assign the punishment deemed worthy by his own standards. That was the thing about Sir Jonathan that the shifter normally admired-- he was harsh.
Being shoved into the carriage in the midst of what had become a very windy night was not a fun experience, and once he'd half collapsed into a seated position, he was tense again. If they'd have to go all the way out to the barracks or even Jon's manor now, it'd mean a good half an hour stuck here with this guy. And he was determined to use the time he'd been given to think of a way to prove himself the victim here, though the fact that he'd completely given up at this point slightly diluted that challenge.
"Why." It had been eating him since the moment his rival had stepped into the bar. He didn't believe in coincidence, and the night before he was supposed to be knighted was just too cruel to be one anyways. "If you don't tell me anything else, I don't give a shit anymore, I just want to know why you showed up again."
"So do you want to roleplay?"
"Do you want to see if we can ship our characters together?"
"Can we plot?"
[ ON! ]
Shackles and Chains | gunpxwder // remuel-wolfe
The rush of wind flowed around his being, buffeting his dark brown hair and forcing his eyes to narrow in order to keep everything within focus. He was remarkably fast but that was due to his lean form and excessive practice. Although he was a rogue of sorts, wandering the streets and traveling from one region to the next, he never spared a moment to miss out on a challenge or training. Only, his training was much different than casual practice. It always involved reality and if there was no ulterior motive to his training, then it was considered wasted breath.
Remuel was jarred in his rapid steps when his fist had successfully made impact. He could feel his knuckles drive straight into Cameron’s gut and he felt the male crunch from the powerful punch. The smirk that had been playing on Remuel’s lips slipped away as he watched the other male stagger. It was impressive how Cameron was able to regain his stance after such a blow but Remuel was not looking down at the apprentice anymore. There was an invisible switch that took place in Remuel and his expression read it off as deathly cold. The light of playfulness in his eyes had been iced over with a ferocity that was abnormal.
He stood still for a moment, watching Cameron’s every move. A flicker of impatience hinted in his eyes when he saw that Cameron was hesitating. He could’ve hit the other male by now but he was waiting for Cameron to make his next attack. It was as though Remuel was trying to make fight have turns. If one were to include the talks, it was Remuel’s turn that had been first. Antagonizing the younger male until he snapped. Then Cameron, when he struck Remuel across the jawline. Last move had been Remuel’s and finally, Cameron seemed to grasp hold of what he wanted to do next as he thrust another fist Remuel’s way.
Only this time Remuel was more than ready, after all, Cameron had given him more than enough time recuperate. As nimble as a cat twisting in midair, Remuel casually shifted his head to the left just enough so that Cameron’s fist whistled right past the rogue’s ear. He felt how strong the apprentice’s blow would have been as the air that had been sliced by his fist caused Remuel’s hair to whip wildly. “My turn…” his voice was graveled, darkened in comparison to how it was moments ago. This was no longer a game to Remuel and although he hardly knew Cameron, he was going to end what he had started.
Everything felt as though it were going in slow-motion as Cameron’s arm had flew past the side of Remuel’s head, Remuel had pivoted in his place to follow Cameron’s movement and face the same direction as the apprentice. His other arm came up rapidly and he practically lunged at Cameron, the heel of his hand attempting to come down harshly on the back of the other male’s head. If he was able to plant his palm on Cameron’s skull from behind, he would have taken the momentum of Cameron’s fist not making impact and Remuel’s lunge down with them. His forceful attack was merciless and if he was successful, he would have slammed Cameron’s forehead directly down onto the counter top’s solid surface. It could easily be a fatal blow with how much force he was putting into it but depending on what happened, Cameron would be lucky if he only came out of the hazardous situation with just a concussion.
So, this fight had become one to the death.
That was his only thought as his skull connected with the bar rushing up to meet his head, and for a moment, everything went white. Then the pain hit him. Hard. It lit everything around the point of contact on fire, and the apprentice was pretty sure he lost consciousness for a moment. But, luckily for him, it wasn't a blow that could send him to the other side-- that took more than the strongest had to offer, at least unarmed. This was probably the closest anyone had ever come to killing him. But it wasn't over yet.
The counter had come near to cracking, and left a giant welt across his forehead in turn. The second he opened his eyes, the blur of his vision had been tinged with red, and the taste of iron was almost nauseating. Cameron could barely move against the pain, but willed himself to at least pick himself up and lean on the counter-- dying in a pool of your own blood in a bar was unacceptable, regardless of who or what you were. Using one arm, he lifted himself off of the shattered surface and wiped the blood off of his face, eyes baring the natural yellow color he usually masked in public. This was no longer a fair fight, and he had every intention to play dirty from here on out, regardless of who saw.
"If... Ya really wanted to kill me... Ya shoulda just used that fancy lighter of yers..." The shifter spat down at the bar, splatters of crimson adding to the mess. By now, someone had probably sent for the guards-- despite their gossipy nature, the citizens of Shyr were not accepting of anyone murdering anyone, regardless of circumstance-- but for some reason, Cam just couldn't bring himself to care. He grinned, sharp teeth coated in his own blood, and let go of the counter.
Just as soon as he'd given in to it, the apprentice snapped out again. No way he was letting Remuel take both his dignity and his humanity, though it did disturb him that he'd let the man get that deep under his skin emotionally. But that didn't mean he wasn't pissed anymore, of course-- Cameron was enraged. The rogue had tried to kill him then and there, no remorse. Those people were the ones he hated most, and all respect he'd held for the other man had been left behind.
Cam had taken a step forward, fists clenched, when the door opened. Cold air gusted inside, only worsening the throbbing in his skull, and he briefly considered the fact that he should have stayed down. At least then he could have played the victim. If there was one thing he'd learned from last time, it was that this guy was an escape artist, and Cam had no intention of letting him out of this one. With all the strength he could muster, he kicked as hard as he could at the man's knee.
The reaction from the guards was one significantly less than surprised, but whether it was to see Cameron fighting Remuel or Cameron on the losing end remained to be seen.
[ ON! ]
[ OFF ]
+kikennaai
Looking around, the neko shook his head. The light only showed a little of the room. If anyone was here they would still be in the shadows of the the lights reach. Sighing, he must have just tripped. After all there couldn’t be someone in his home. Shrugging his shoulders, he looked around once more. "I guess it was just a false alarm… " he muttered. Though he still felt like it wasnt so it was a bit confusing to him.
"I still cant help but feel like it isnt though…" he muttered to himself. Looking at Cameron, he sighed "Sorry…." he muttered before looking away a bit embarrassed. He didnt want to seem like som weird paranoid freak to Cameron but, it cant be helped now.
"No, don't be. I've got the same feeling." The shifter felt... Watched. It was unpleasant, to say the least, and losing his nerve over nothing wasn't a natural reaction for him to have. Cam could see everything just fine-- yet there was an odd sensation like something was just out of the corners of his sight, and the minute he turned his head, it was gone.
"...I don't like this." The weird lack of light, the less-than-convenient timing... None of it made sense, but he knew it was all connected in one way or another. The reason just hadn't shown itself yet. "We should wait for the power to come back on for now. Who knows-- maybe if we stop looking, something else will, too."
♙ } Snow fell, like that day, his head tossed back as his dull gaze flitted up to the open skies, littered by fluffy clouds as flakes of ice surrounded him. The flakes which clung to his hair and sweater were were quick to melt, creating dark splotches on the grey and blue fabric. Taking a step forward, the dog peered into the warm cafe, hand rising to press against the glass. Palm pressed against the cool glass, he allowed deft digits to curl, almost in longing.
“Kill Suoh Mikoto, don’t you dare return until you do.”
The orders of his Master resounded in his mind and the dog took a small, staggering step back. No, if he—if he got food without permission, his Master would get mad at him. His scars ached, as if reminding him of his place, and his hand rose to clasp over the markings beneath the sleeve. Gripping the fabric, his jaw tightened. Shaking his head, Eric was about to turn and move on, to look for the King he was set to kill, when a voice reached him.
Dull crystal turned to the other, widening a bit before his lips closed once more. Giving a brief shake of his head, the dog pulled the hood down more over his head. ❝N..No..❞ he answered, tossing his head to the side with an involuntary shudder due to the cold, ❝..M..Master would get mad.. No money.. S..Sorry for bothering..❞ a silent ‘please do not hurt me' followed, frightened eyes turning to him.
"It's fine, man. I bothered you first."
Master? Who still had those, anyways? He'd gotten turned down for coffee before, sure, but that was definitely a new reason why. As for money, it didn't really matter-- after all, it was his personal coffee. Nobody was even inside yet, aside from the slight possibility of the owner, and she was probably long gone to work.
The shifter elected to try again, if not purely for the purpose of making sure this guy didn't turn into a human popsicle on the spot. It was uncomfortably cold, and the snow looked like it wasn't going to stop for quite some time. Last thing anyone needed was to be walking around.
"You look freezin'... You sure? I've got no clue about your master, but technically, we're not open for business yet, so that coffee's up for anyone's grabs. And you honestly look like you need somethin' warm more than I do," Cam explained, punctuating the sentence with a smile. He unlocked the door and pushed it open with one shoulder-- If this guy turned it down, fine, but it was worth a shot.
"And besides, I'm not tellin' anybody. Who's gonna get mad if they dunno you're here?"
Shackles and Chains | gunpxwder // remuel-wolfe
The rogue could almost feel Cameron’s growing rage as he lingered close to the apprentice. He trailed his vision up along the nape of Cameron’s neck to his ear, seeing that it was brimmed with redness. The thrill that was bubbling up deep within Remuel was almost too much to contain. However, he knew he had said enough and there wasn’t anymore need to taunt the other male. Any second now, Cameron was going to break. Remuel could almost /feel/ that in the air and it seemed he wasn’t the only one. The fake conversations that were being held dwindled down until there was not so much as a mere whisper. The silence was deafening.
Remuel could almost feel the male’s muscles tightening and growing tense. The heat that wavered off of Cameron and the anger that thickened in the atmosphere, Remuel didn’t need to see Cameron’s face to know that he had finally hit a nerve. It was then that Cameron could not bend anymore and he snapped. Remuel felt the force on his shoulder and he knew immediately what was to come next. He was a rogue, a traveler of sorts and perhaps he could have dodged the oncoming blow especially since Cameron initially pushed him. Despite the ‘forewarning’ that Remuel received, he braced himself for the impact and to his surprise it came up faster than he had expected.
His body ricocheted to the opposing direction, his head having snapped to the side as his jaw was clocked right on the bone. The stool that he was sitting on tipped backward and he instantly pushed off it to land on his feet. The wooden seat clashed to the ground as Remuel staggered to get a foothold on the slick floors. As soon as he caught his balance, he moved his jaw around and brought up one hand. The stinging pain spread like fire on that side of his face. He ran his thumb gently over his jawline, his eyes trained on Cameron with a glint of playfulness. It wasn’t enough pain to cause Remuel to turn tail and run away. This was just the start and Remuel had been waiting for this. There was a hint of electricity that pulsed in his irises, trailing through the goldens to the blues directly toward the pupils.
“Did I hurt your feeeelings?” Remuel cooed, his brows up-turning as if to express pity. A soft chuckle escaped him afterward, his hand dropping away from his jaw. The laugh was short-lived when deep within his chest, a rumble started up and it was released as a growl of revenge. He rushed up toward the other male, glad that he was the one taller of the two—being approximately 6’1” whilst the other stood at about 5’9”. Even so, Remuel did not aim for Cameron’s face as one might have suspected. He rushed up to Cameron, flanking the other male’s side whilst attempting to send a powerful fist right to the apprentice’s gut in hopes to knock him down.
He was prepared for a fight, but Cameron didn't expect that kind of response. A blow using his advantage with height and stature, sure, but not one to the gut. And it hurt. He staggered against the force of it-- this guy packed a hard blow-- and just barely caught himself from falling. Nobody had gotten this close to knocking him over in a while, and despite the pain, he smiled. It was just what he'd expected skillwise from his opponent, if not more. It seemed that he wasn't the only one who'd improved in their time apart.
"You wish," the redhead snarled. No way was he owning up to that, now or ever. Just because he was younger than the other guy didn't give him the right to treat him like a child, and it was making him just the slightest bit more conscious of the advantages and disadvantages he had. While he was probably just as well trained, being smaller in both stature and age wasn't helping him out here.
For a split second, Cam just stood there. It was a hesitation he probably couldn't afford, but he had to consider the consequences here. If there was some way to not get caught now that this had started, he had to figure it out. There was no clear way to evade the guards-- nobody was going to help him now. He'd started the fight, after all, so it was on him. Time to think was up, and having no solution, the shifter put all of his focus into his actions instead.
He regained steady footing, glare still plastered on his face, and aimed for the man's throat. If he could land a blow there, it'd definitely hurt, but that wasn't what he was going for. Even if it was intercepted, Cameron had a backup. A rather unreliable backup, but he wasn't scared to get hit a few times if it meant winning in the end, no matter how stupid that aspiration was.
//UGH OK BACK SORRY. ;w;
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