Author Topic: february revolution, march absolution [harpe]  (Read 1087 times)

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Offline .Harper.

  • Inaria
  • Apprentice
  • ***
  • Posts: 82
  • This is your personal text.
  • Liked: 21
  • Likes Given: 13
february revolution, march absolution [harpe]
« on: July 17, 2015, 09:10:12 AM »
Harper's leg had almost healed, but it still looked pretty rough. The pus that leaked from it now was clear instead of red or green, so that was a good sign. Unfortunately Lotus had stopped giving the coyote painkillers, which made the stuff Lotus said a lot more boring, but that was okay. Harper liked the little healer anyway.

There was a lot going on in Inaria lately. People were always bustling about, training for things, talking about safety and diligence and all that bullcrap. Harper was unconcerned, she wasn't one of them, of course, so their problems weren't her problems. Their chaos had meant that she would probably be able to get away with mooching a little longer than she already had. After all, they were letting some random "traitors" or something mooch off of them, what was one little coyote?

Harper mostly avoided the other Inarians, because frankly they were boring as hell and they were all prim and proper and concerned about titles and honor and other bullcrap that she knew didn't mean anything when things actually got tough. She ignored the borders, too, going in and out as she pleased. Kashmir had let her in, and whenever anyone asked she just name dropped him and Lotus and people seemed to back off. So that was pretty cool.

Right night now she was picking at what was left of a chipmunk she had killed in the outskirts. When she saw a stranger approach, she looked up, dangling the dead thing in her mouth and talking with the food stuffing her face. "You lookin' for acceptance? The food here is pretty good, but the company is pretty damn bland." She said. Upon giving the girl another once over, she looked more thoughtful. She swallowed the remains of the chipmunk whole. "Come on, princess, you look a fool standing there sheepish. What do you want?"
« Last Edit: July 17, 2015, 09:10:38 AM by .Harper. »

Offline Harpe

  • Alteron
  • Initiate
  • ***
  • Posts: 18
  • Gender: Female
  • Burnt Princess
  • Liked: 8
  • Likes Given: 6
Re: february revolution, march absolution [harpe]
« Reply #1 on: October 28, 2015, 12:09:50 AM »
This wasn’t the place she’d find her father, but she had no way of knowing that. She had always been the beautiful but empty-headed daughter, knowing nothing of the world-- completely useless, worthless for any grander design that perhaps securing some manner of alliance through trophy wife-betrothal. In the end she hadn’t been worth even that in the eyes of the ones that mattered to her. The daughter that survived but amounted to nothing, the daughter that fell so far beneath the notice of her grandmother that she hadn’t even been worth killing...

She was only passing through this place that smelled so strongly of pack. Despite everything, she knew enough to know that she wouldn’t find him here. He had too much pride to be found in a place like this, where he would start at the bottom. No, he would be scheming somewhere else, brooding alone, or dead. She was only passing through. The food was good, she’d already managed to catch a couple of fat gophers that had taken the edge off of her hunger.

It had, of course, returned with the now familiar aching pain in her gut. It was a feeling of hollowness she’d come to resent-- one that she should be able to fill, but for some reason couldn’t.

She was forever hungry, one way or the other.

It was the scent of blood that had drawn her to the coyote, the hope of a fresh kill that had reflected on her face all too briefly before it was dashed to the ground. It had been nothing more than a morsel, quickly disappearing down the gullet of someone who she probably could have stolen it from, given the chance…

”You lookin’ for acceptance? The food here is pretty good, but the company is pretty damn bland. Come on, princess, you look a fool standing there sheepish. What do you want?”

No, the princess thought, not sheepish. Just hungry.

Is there more?” she asked, direct as she had always been, eyes scanning the turf around Harper for a cache. Visible ribs and sunken cheeks spoke her need more loudly than she ever could have. Inaria had helped so many before her-- what was one more lost soul and empty belly to them?

Everything, someone else might have told her. Would Harper?

#8D38C9
The Observatory | Profile
One track mind, one track heart,
If I fail, I'll fall apart.
Maybe it is all a test;
Cause I feel like I'm the worst,
So I always act like I'm the best.

Offline .Harper.

  • Inaria
  • Apprentice
  • ***
  • Posts: 82
  • This is your personal text.
  • Liked: 21
  • Likes Given: 13
Re: february revolution, march absolution [harpe]
« Reply #2 on: May 02, 2016, 11:47:45 PM »
“Is there more?”

Harper suddenly saw the girl, actually saw her. Saw ribs and eyes that looked everywhere except at faces. Looking for food. Even Harper, who was only capable of shame in the slightest way, felt sorry for her. Pity. What had obviously once been a pretty face was now shadowed by gauntness, the hollows of her bones showing. There was nothing for it but to help solve the problem. And the first step to any problem is, of course, admitting you have a problem. Which Harper did.

"eff, girl.... you look like crap!" She trotted forward, immediately investingating the girl up close, poking her cold nose into the boney ribs, sniffing her face (Assuming the bedraggled girl allowed it). "I don't have another chipmunk but we'll just steal some other type a' grub from these effing snobs that live in this place. I don't think her royal highness and his royal majesty are going to notice. And even if they did, what are they gonna do?"

So maybe it was less "The gentle kingdom helping the poor and downtrodden as it was coyote-doesn't-think-stealing-is-bad, but hey, when you're starving, who cares? Harper (still right in Harpe's face) gave an overdramatic gesture of her head, and a playful nip to the princesses' royal shoulder, before trotting right back in the direction of the pack.

"Pretty sure I saw some turtles on a log by the lake, if we sneak up on them we can probably grab 'em!" She stopped cantering along, turning back to ensure the girl was following her. "Hey, keep up! I can crack their shells for you. It's kind of tricky, but I'm a natural." She gave a mischevious wink -

But of the corner of her eye, she watched the girl to make sure she did not trip and fall in her exhaustion and hunger. And every once and a while her gaze would covertly dart to the side to make sure no pissed off border control came chasing after.

When people are hungry, you feed them. When they are thirsty, you give them water. When they are being assholes, you beat the hell out of them, when you like them, you kiss them on their stupid face. Life was simple, and everyone else was always trying to make it way too hard. Borders or no borders, Harper was gonna get this girl some food.

Offline Harpe

  • Alteron
  • Initiate
  • ***
  • Posts: 18
  • Gender: Female
  • Burnt Princess
  • Liked: 8
  • Likes Given: 6
Re: february revolution, march absolution [harpe]
« Reply #3 on: May 11, 2016, 10:38:30 PM »
The coyote’s words were harsh and cold, like an icy wind cutting through thin fur. Like a slap to a soft face. Like five hearts in six that suddenly stopped beating. You would think that she would be prepared for it. That she, deep down, knew that she looked like crap. Knew that she felt like crap. Knew that she was worth very little, just like crap. But it stings, having it thrown in her face. It stings, and as much as she wants to curl her lip in a disdainful sneer for somebody that before, might have been nothing but petty rabble, she found she didn’t have the energy. That, or a kernel of wisdom she hadn’t realized she possessed instructed her to remain civil—bite not the hand that feeds.

She holds still as the humiliating inspection commences, telling herself it was no different from Mother, Father, Grandmother, Grandfather—all inspecting the brood when they were young, determining their weight and whether or not it was worth gold. Her face is hot with shame, her stomach cold and hard. She tolerates it like a purebred at a dog show, knowing that she’d never deserved the blue ribbon. Why had she ever wanted it? Why did she still want it?

Thank you,” she manages with forced politeness, mustering the energy to lean away from the coyote that looms in her vision. She grits her teeth and presents the nosy-nancy with a smile. When Harper takes off she follows—predictably slower, old wounds agitated by a long, hungry road. Every glance the coyote shoots her makes that very same shame flare up, her eyes stinging as she faces the fact that everything she’s ever told herself was a lie, which she’s built up on the crumbling pedestal of a try-hard.

The try-hard in this scenario is not Harpe, but her father. She is just the try-hard in training.

Despite her difficulty in keeping up, she never asks for a reprieve. She pushes herself and trails the coyote with stubborn pride—she WAS a princess, she had to ACT LIKE IT. “Turtles are good,” she lies, knowing she’d never eaten the river dwellers before in her life. “I used to eat them with my brother.” The fib continues to fall from between her teeth like steaming ichor. She’s never been close to any of her brothers. They didn’t live long enough.

She doesn’t push her luck, falling quiet and letting Harper keep her lead—she was the self-professed expert, and while she’s claimed experience, it’s abundantly clear she had no idea what she’s doing.

With anything.

#8D38C9
The Observatory | Profile
One track mind, one track heart,
If I fail, I'll fall apart.
Maybe it is all a test;
Cause I feel like I'm the worst,
So I always act like I'm the best.