#lassar

[presidentpoppy]

new doctor who self insert to selfship with mr finch x3

selfship taglist! <3 @garden-of-seraphim @negativespiritapologist @kaibaspuppy @sunstar-of-the-north @gideongrovel @sweettoothselfships @automatonkisser

let me know if u want to be added or removed!!

[podartists]

LASSAR | lassar

[baixegratispravaler]

Loucademia de Polícia (Dual Áudio) HD 720p Torrent

Loucademia de Polícia (Dual Áudio) HD 720p Torrent

Dados do Arquivo

Ano de Lançamento: 1984

Duração: 1 Hora e 36 Minutos

Gênero: Comédia, Policial, Crime

Idioma: Portugues, Inglês

Legenda: sim

Tamanho: 788 MB

 Qualidade de áudio e vídeo: 10

Extensão: MKV

  Sinopse

O prefeito resolve mudar a lei, afirmando que fatores como sexo, peso e inteligência não devem influenciar nas aplicações para a força policial. Liderado por Carey Mahoney, um grupo de…

View On WordPress

[podartists]

Lassar

Anglese: leave, let

Espaniol: dejar

Francese: laisser

Italiano: lasciare

Portugese: deixar

Germano: lassen

[sideroleplay-blog]

Lassar grabbed hold of the riding-bear's fur and, feeling the tension, the bear heaved itself up onto its four trunk-like legs once again and began to slide forwards, one paw after the other, through the ashy sea.  Lassar continued to clamber up, scaling the side of the beast to eventually reach the top, where he put one leg over the beast's back, settling into the riding position.  He felt comfort again.  Safety.  Laying himself flat to the bear's back, he clung yet tighter to the fur as their steed gained speed.  Soon enough, the wind was whistling through their manes as it had been before.  

Lassar had felt the weight on his back become a little heavier and assumed the boy had slipped into unconsciousness.  He wasn't sure if that was the best way for him to be or not, though even if he did know, there would be nothing he could do.  Lassar brought his thoughts back around to concentrate on the ride - although there was little left that could go wrong in this leg of the journey, he wasn't risking it.

Honestly, Lassar had always had a sneaking suspicion the creatures his elders had told him were stories to scare small children into staying away from the wastes.  There were no current stories.  No one alive in his clan for the past few generations had experienced anything of the six-hundred thousand scales that coated Ular, the snake behemoth, or the screeching maw of Tikus, the mole which created the very dunes that pocked the otherwise smooth landscapes.  He'd have to see something with his own eyes before truly heeding what were otherwise mere legends.

The thud of the bear's feet changed, and Lassar recognised it as the sound of earth.  Solid, practical earth.  It would be minutes before they were back.  They'd survived.

[sideroleplay-blog]

The boy was alive.  Dusty and grey with ash all over, eyes clogged with grit, body shaken and scratched, but alive.

Lassar watched as the boy's body began to lurch and he realised that he was holding back coughs - one sound and they could be dead.

It took him a few moments of careful but swift consideration.  Leave now, save himself...it was the safer option...

He pulled his mask up over his mouth as the winds began to pick up, bringing swift, soft tornadoes of ash skittering across the delicate Waste surface.  He could feel in his bones that they didn't have long.  Taking a lower stance, Lassar rolled forwards to close the few feet between him and the boy, positioning himself behind the cub in one quick movement.  Grabbing the cloths that hung over his shoulder, he brought his arms around the cub and pulled the cloth tight over his face, restricting his breathing and eradicating sight.

He couldn't tell the boy the purpose of this action right now; it was detail he'd never taught him in hope that it would never have to be known: Lassar felt a bubble of apprehension form in his throat.  If the boy panicked, didn't trust his mentor, it would be the death of both of them.  

The aim was to stop the boy's face from moving.  If he blinked too much, the grit caking his lids would scratch his eyes, and render him blind.  Breathing through the thick cloth, although difficult, lessened extra ash entering the airway and also dampened the sound of coughing.  Lassar could only pray that the boy had not swallowed too much ash, or he could drown before they made it back.  Elbowing the useless weight of the cub onto his back, Lassar took a second bolt of cloth and tied it in a cross shape around himself and the boy, knotting it at his chest, tying the boy tight to himself.  He began the careful journey back to the riding-bear, feet sliding through the ash, mimicking the sound of shifting dunes, legs aching under the weight of an additional body.  

The bear had laid itself flat against the ash, minimising its height.  It had more intelligence than this naive cub, it seemed.

[sideroleplay-blog]

Lassar felt the cub begin to slip from under him, his stupidity the cause of what potentially may be his death.  He untangled his hand from the safety of the rope and grabbed at the boy as quickly as he could, his clothes, his fur, his hair, but to no avail - he slipped off onto the ash below, falling three metres or so to land with a mighty 'whump', a cloud of ash billowing up around him.  Lassar growled as they rode away, the figure of the boy in the ash becoming more and more distant.

Lassar pulled back on the rope, causing the bear to halt, massive paws sliding through the ash as they slowed to a stop.  Pulling the protective cloths back over him and grabbing spares, wrapping them about his shoulders, Lassar rolled off the bear's back and landed crouched, keeping his balance perfectly.  One had to move slowly in the Wastes: rolling from the bear's back meant one fell with less speed than jumping, resulting in a lighter landing.  Everything counted.  

Lassar reached up for his spear and unhooked it from the bear's side, where the Nita's feet had rested as they rode.  Multi-purpose, like everything the Kodiak tribe made.  Wrapping the rope rein of the bear around his forearm, Lassar began to step quietly towards the boy's shape in the ash, wind pulling at his face mask.  The riding bear itself knew the rules and slid its feet through the ash instead of stepping.  Monsters slept below the ash, deep in slumber, only awakening when sufficient prey disturbed their bed.  Lassar had soon reached the boy.  He turned his spear so the blunt end was forwards, and poked him with it from a distance.  If he was dead, they could leave.  Have a ceremony back at camp - taking the body back wasn't worth the risk. 

If he was alive then he needed to wear his ash-cloths as soon as possible.  One could drown in the Wastes just by breathing.  If the cub woke and was loud, he could awaken the beasts underneath.  Lassar prayed silently that the cub would remember his mentor's words, the conversation they had shared before leaving detailing just how quiet one had to be when travelling slow.  Travelling fast was only allowed in the Wastes near the border: the point of the fast travel at the edge of the Wastes was to reach safety sooner, the idea that anything awoken by the sound of running would not follow them out the desert.  Usually.

[sideroleplay-blog]

Lassar was 19, reaching the prime of his life for Nita living near the Kodiak Wastes, the great swathe of dusty grey land that cut across the centre of Kodiak Island, surrounding Novarupta - the Godhome of the island.  His tribe lived on the outskirts where the sea and coastal breezes had cleansed the grasses and sands but even there the ash picked up on the winds would settle and fade the vibrant colours that hid on leaves and flowers.  No fish swam in the currents and animals of the island were scarce but when encountered, strong.  The tribe chose to use the great bears their genetics hailed from - the two species had a natural affinity and co-operated well - to travel.  As dangerous as the Wastes were, it was necessary to venture through to reach the snowier climbs of the landscape, where differing varieties of herbs and plants grew, white animals climbed and clean water was readily available.

The bear they rode had four large clay jars slung about its neck which sloshed with clean, clear water.  The movements of the snow in the peaks meant that water there was often cleaner than any rivers that ran from the peaks, through the Wastes and to the coast: every week, two members of the tribe would venture through the Wastes to the peaks and pack the clay jars with snow and then bring them back.  This had been Lassar's and Torbjen's job today - Torbjen's first.

Lassar spoke in a low growl.

"You're lucky this trip has been uneventful.  It's the last stretch, hold on."

Lassar began to shift, leaning down against Torbjen's back, pushing him down flat against the bear with his chest and staying there.  He grabbed the cub's hands and thrust them into the carpet of their mount where the rope that held the clay jars was tied taut.  He did the same with his own hands, squeezing tight on the rope.  

"Ready...?"  

It was less a question and more a demand.

"Hold on."