(pouts in barbarian)

Jove ∅ The Barbarian

[jovethebarbarian]

THE BARBARIAN

ABOUT ; SKELETON ; CONNECTIONS ; PINTEREST

visage ▧ convos ▧ misc. ▧ self paras ▧

[jovethebarbarian]

@lunadarkwoodx location: Yggdrasildal notes: They can be howling at the wind one last time before walking back to their demise, as a treat 🙂

∅ The last time Jove set foot in Iskaldrik, it was with higher hopes than he had now. The weight of the older man that he was now present on the blind wolf's shoulders. If his younger self would have seen him now, Jove was certain he'd look for any excuse to see him on the floor. A faint feeling of disgust fills his gut as he's reminded of the contracts he helped orchestrate in order to be the one to kill those he didn't like. If his younger self had his way to plot his end, it would be at the dead of night and dead by his blade.

His head turns to the side slightly as he feels short yet present thuds across the ground. His nose turned up towards the source of the sound as he inhales, the thick miasmic spores of blight around their meeting place before their planned assault made it difficult in recognizing scents. Made him quite susceptible to self queries of his past as well, it seems. "You got the mark too?" He began to ask, the inflection of his voice lifting in surprise, though Jove's heartbroken feeling in finding a friend called to such a godless place was unable to be properly by it.

"Such a shame, I was just getting used to calling you Luna again." An unconventional smirk spreads across the werewolf's face. He scoots over from where he was sitting, the camp fire next to them providing warmth for the rest of the summoned who wished to warm themselves before their decent into battle.

[jovethebarbarian]

@raventeresi notes: just a little campfire fun before the campaign 😁 location: At the edges of Yggdrasildal, chilling, five feet apart cus they're not.. well, they don't know each other 😅

∅ There was an uneasy feeling within the barbarian, it clung under his ribs and found comfort pressed against the werewolf's tender gut. Brushing a hand across his sweat laden brow, Jove sat near the crackling warm of a campfire drawn up and stoked throughout the night. The familiar cold of Iskaldrik just as persistent as he remembers.

Although, the new unmistakable stink of blight in the air had the werewolf sulking on his involvement in the Iskaldrik's fall - or rather, his lack of involvement. The only familiarity Jove could find in this instance was the uneasy feeling in his stomach as snow, ash, and blight flurried in the air.

A breath could be heard from beside the werewolf. Jove, ever the social wolf, raised his brow as this scent beside him was rather new. Turning his head towards this new person, heat of the fir pit shifting across Jove's face as he did so, the werewolf offers in a low voice, perhaps too calm for what was laid ahead of them. "This your first time in Iskaldrik?"

[gaybuckybarnessss]

ALAN RITCHSON Dr. Squatch

[lotharx]

starter for @jovethebarbarian.

where: some woofy woods?

when: current timeline

note: as discussed, thanks for your patience sorry this was delayed < 3

Lothar had another day or two of a journey ahead of him. He'd remained focused, perhaps unhealthily so, on pouring his energy into accepting any and every guild contract which came his way. The effects of the Kossith ship still lingered heavily in the quotidian lives of many and though Lothar had not endured such horror himself there was this great clashing of guilt within him as he looked upon those he cared about who indeed had suffered. Ignorance indeed was bliss and so it toed a similar breath of avoidance and off he often went.

The barbarian, too, was still rather old school; abolishing any use of portals to get him to far off locations quicker. In Iskaldrik they hadn't had such craft to blip from one place to another and Lothar appreciated the hardship of merely going along by foot. Still, a rest was needed as evening would soon be upon him and the barbarian sat on a fallen tree trunk, pulling his axe from the resting place upon his shoulder to plunge it slightly into the loose soil around him.

Lothar paused, some displeased grunt escaping him as he felt a pair of eyes on him from the tree line, "It'd be best to get on your own way or make yourself known already." He was a man of little interest in games, but Lothar certainly was never afraid of finishing them if need be.

[jovethebarbarian]

∅ - Whiskers brushed against the undergrowth around them. Eyes, pale and milky, they shine an uneasy iridescent as the moon light fills them. Jove, having doggy paddled his way to Haven after a short adventure at the island, found his return to the mainland to be quite eventful. However, within his travels, he hadn't yet stubbled upon someone he had met before. It had often become a perk of being a sheltered werewolf like himself, every person smart enough to live their lives outside of the Lostlands would most likely be a new person Jove would have the pleasure of meeting. This one, however…

The air was thick with absolve, caution, and familiarity.

The wolf sniffs in front of himself, the low bravado of the other man refamiliarizing itself within Jove's ears. They point forwards in recognition, joined by a slight unsure growl. The growl halts and in its place are whines as Jove had begun to shift back into his human form. The whines weeping from his mouth turn into groans as he opts to face the familiar scent. There's a hesitance within Jove's voice, though no sense of surprise. What happened all those years ago, all those men that paid for his mistake. He would have to answer for it sooner or later.

"I believe you know who we are to each other."

[alanritchsonsource]

New photo of Alan Ritchson in his ‘Manlandia’ campaign with Dr Squatch

[zanephillips]

ALAN RITCHSON New Girl 4.04 "Micro"

[heisokay]

Alan Ritchson

[androtherika2]

[lukanthropi]

silly wolf photos from WCC. reblog if you agree

[main-character-magazine]

Alan Ritchson | Men’s Health (2024)

[celayawitcher]

starter for @jovethebarbarian.

where: me thinks we're in the water

when: current timeline, though i think set before he sees freydat?

note: these two and boats/water is clearly a cursed mix

Celaya was certain her newest resolution would to not go near a boat nor the sea ever again if she was to get out of this. A wound spilled blood down the side of her face, her lifeforce mixing with the brine of the sea around her as she immediately began to try and swim. The blast had displaced everyone, some bodies floated helplessly around her, lost causes from the blast, while others could be discerned through far away screams which sounded through the open sea.

The water around her looked more like a graveyard than any sliver of hope, but the witcher nearly scowled at a familiar face looking worse for wear within the depths of the water. "Dammit," she swam over after she noticed the shallow rise and fall of his chest, the werewolf half positioned on a piece of torn metal that barely held him above the depths of the ocean.

Celaya tore at the fabric of her shirt, wading it in a ball and floating in the water near Jove as she applied pressure to a wound near his chest, "Wake up, wake up," she hissed in a bout of impatient nerves, figuring if he didn't rouse soon he'd surely sink to the bottom of the sea like a damned brick.

[jovethebarbarian]

Being a werewolf, Jove knew the scent of wet dog would always follow him from place to place. However, finding himself floating amongst debris of a shipwreck yet again, Jove had hoped for the expression to remain figuratively. Though the stench of wet fur seemed to cling to the inside of his nose, the salty lick of the sea managed to wake him as he felt the warm hands of another on him. The pressure and subsequent sting of sea water on his open wound brought the werewolf to attention. A low groan escapes his mouth as he tries not to thrash around too much, his grip too preoccupied on the floating debris keeping him afloat to mindlessly flail about the open sea.

"Who-Who is this--? Celaya?" Jove wonders aloud, his grip on the floating debris inadvertently leading the werewolf's head to sink under the water again, interrupting his thoughts. Readjusting while panicked, Jove brought himself above the water again, coughing up a bit of the sea water.

[truthfulbelladona]

who? @jovethebarbarian where? The ship

Trapped as she had been, there hadn’t been much for her to do other than listen. Listen to her surroundings, to the low voices of the Kossith whispering just out of reach. She had heard of the wolves that had been caught, and of their fates under Kossith rule. Now that they have been freed, she is curious to see if their animal instinct remains, and whether that would make them more understanding of her plight. And if they do remain more animal than human? Well, all the easier for her to get allies amidst the mess they are in. 

“Do you require any aid? I am fairly adept on healing,” she offers to the burly man as she approaches, voice soft and friendly to hide the intentions beneath. 

[jovethebarbarian]

Jove tilts his head up, raising it from his arms in which the wolf had rested his head and in the direction of the other's voice. The sounds of the sea, splashing against Jove's feet as he tried to recenter himself from the events of the shipwreck -- of the Kossith. It wasn't much of an anchor for the werewolf, but it helped him place himself on the island. The wet sand under his feet and the restraint from within himself to keep from digging into the grainy sod underneath, from burying himself alive. Hearing another voice nearby, Jove raises a brow as he hears the soft voiced person walk towards him.

"I could use some patching up." He begins to say, unintentionally matching the softness -- the lingering effects of the Kossith's treatment of still apparent in his action. Clearing his throat, Jove continues to speak, an attempt to speak in his usual clear low tone. "I think there might be some wounds along my arms, maybe some more elsewhere."

[etienneulven]

Person: @jovethebarbarian Location: U ever just wash up on a beach Everything is still easier on four legs when he washes ashore, even though his body seems to protest. He's exhausted when he finally makes it to land but he doesn't stop, a large wolf prowling the beach because even though everything smelt of salt water, there was the familiar scent of baked goods. And that one other wolf. That one other wolf that he was in front of while tugging a pair of pants on that are a little too long for him. "Freydis around?" Jove, that's right, that's who he was, they'd talked at Lupercalia.

[jovethebarbarian]

Jove's ears perked up in interest as he hears a vaguely familiar voice. The timbre reminded him of jovial cheer within a tavern, though if Jove had to guess, the voice could belong to practically anyone. Though the familiar voice carried a familiar scent. He turns towards the sound of Etienne's voice, standing from the sandy bank he had rested on.

"I- I thought I heard her nearby." Jove begins to say, a curiosity and concern in his voice. "Forgive me for my forgetful mind, but have we met? You sound familiar, but my wolf's mind holds your voice with importance."

[mattmurduckishot]

[scaryrabbit]

THE MINISTRY OF UNGENTLEMANLY WARFARE (2024) Dir: Guy Ritchie

[gaybuckybarnesss]

ALAN RITCHSON Reacher 3.06 "Smoke on the Water"