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A feud in which a person seeks vengeance
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Post by Quennel Wren on Jan 13, 2016 11:02:02 GMT -7
[googlefont="Poppins"]
i'm so sick of that same old love | [attr="class","selena"]
It was always kind of sad visiting Dewford. While Quennel might not have had an idealistic youth, it seemed like each time he came home to visit his mom the place was looking more gray and decrepit and sad. He tried not to think about it; he wasn't one for deep thought. But, that just showed how bad it really was if someone like him could see the changes. At least when he turned corners people knew better than to jump him, now. Last asshole who tried that after he joined Aqua had taken a long walk off a short pier. He didn't like to thin about that either.
Mama had been sick as usual, but happy to see him. He fixed her a nice dinner and then had to leave. It was a nice day. He liked to spend his very few days off with her. Shame that right at the end it wasn't really going to plan. The boat was late. Or blown up. Or something. All he knew was that it was getting dark and he was sitting on the beach playing with seashells. The boat to take him back to Lilycove, back to the base, had just never bothered to show up. For most of the people here it was an annoyance. For him was that, but kind of nice.... at least he would have a good reason for being late and showing back up to the barracks in the morning hours. It took long enough to get there, after all.
Still, stacking seashells wouldn't get him anywhere and Quennel was getting kind of hungry. He was pretty sure that a cheap seafood place was still open somewhere around where he was at. He remembered going there a few times as a kid before his mom got sick and the food was good enough. Maybe he would find something to do for a while as he waited on the boat to show up. Not like he had anything better to do.
[attr="class","selenatag"]nice @open |
© LAIKA [newclass=.selena]min-height: 200px; max-height: 200px; overflow: auto; margin: 5px 0; padding-right: 5px; color: #2E2E2E; text-align: justify; font: 11px calibri; text-transform: none;[/newclass][newclass=.selena b] color: #9A69A1;[/newclass][newclass=.selena::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 5px; border: solid 2px #fff; background: #D3D3D3;[/newclass][newclass=.selena::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]border: solid 2px #9A69A1; width: 5px; background: #9A69A1; border-radius: 5px;[/newclass][newclass=.selenatag]color:#BCBCBC; font: 10px calibri; text-transform: uppercase; text-align:right; [/newclass][newclass=.selenatag a]font: bold 10px calibri!important; text-transform: uppercase!important; [/newclass]
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and there's no remedy for memory your face like a melody, it won't leave my head
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Post by LIEVEN KRANTZ on Jan 13, 2016 13:48:26 GMT -7
this wave is stringing us along [attr="class","momshouse"] Quennel Wren notes// sorry it got kind of long!Working in covert affairs had its perks. Lieven wasn't likely to be sent on any especially dangerous, front line jobs, he didn't have to worry about being heckled by some of the more common soldiers, and all in all he just felt more comfortable doing the work assigned to him there. But it wasn't all peaches and cream. It required a lot of travelling, and sometimes he was in one town at noon and another by the night. When he showed up on the docks of Dewford in the morning he'd had every intention of catching the boat back by noon, but it hadn't came. At first Lieven had been antsy. He had business that needed doing! Sure, he was basically playing errand boy today, but that didn't mean his job was any less important! For the first couple hours the boat was late he'd paced the dock wringing his hands anxiously. What if he got blamed for his lateness? What if he got in trouble? It had him in a tizzy until a few hours before sunset when he realized the boat may not come and that, no matter how much he wished it would, his anxiety wouldn't change that. So he decided to do what he always did when he was worked up. He fished. That was hours ago, but Lieven hadn't changed his plan. He sat there on the dock, casting his line over and over again. Already he'd caught a couple of fish, their corpses laid out and stacked next to him. It felt good. Something about the feel of a pole in his hands, the whistle of a line as it was cast, the pull of reeling in a catch. It steadied him. And by the time the sun had begun to set he had nearly forgotten about the late boat entirely. But, something else had caught his attention. A young man had found his way onto the dock for what Lieven could only assume was the same reason he had, but instead of staying he'd walked onto the beach, and over the last however many minutes Lieven had found his eyes drifting from his rod, to the boy, to his fish and back. Curiosity, they said, killed the cat, but he didn't like the sight of the man. Not in a bad way, more like in a pitiful way. He looked lonely stacking seashells on his own, and if he was honest a bit silly considering his build. "Hey," he reeled in his empty line and placed his pole off to the side as he called out to the boy, deciding that if nothing else he could at least see if the boy wanted some company, "You waitin for the boat?"LAIKA OF GAGNAM STYLE [newclass=.momshouse]height:20px;padding:5px 0px;overflow:hidden;background:#3D3D3D;line-height:100%;text-align:center; margin-top: -30px; position: relative; z-index: 200; color:#EDEDED!important;text-transform:uppercase!important;font-family:cambria!important; font-style: italic!important; font-size:12px!important; opacity: 0; transition: all 1s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.momshouse:hover]opacity: 1; transition: all 1s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.momshouse a]color:#EDEDED!important;text-transform:uppercase!important;font-family:cambria!important; font-style: italic!important; font-size:12px!important;[/newclass]
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A feud in which a person seeks vengeance
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Post by Quennel Wren on Jan 14, 2016 11:37:40 GMT -7
[googlefont="Poppins"]
i'm so sick of that same old love | [attr="class","selena"]
It took a minute for Quennel to realize that, yes, someone had spoken to him. He wasn't really used to it, other than superiors barking orders at him. There wasn't anyone else on the beach, though, he saw after quickly scanning it. So he turned back and looked over whoever had spoken. It was... a girl? Boy? Hard to tell. They were small and dainty, though. Sort of like a kid or a one of those spoiled rich girls he saw in the city sometimes. He couldn't imagine why someone like that would want to talk to someone like him, but it took all sorts. It didn't stop him from slowly approaching and shrugging.
"You know what the hell happened to it?" Quennel's tone came out more gruff than he had intended. He wasn't trying to scare whoever this person was away. He cleared his throat some and tried to continue with a little less force. "Don't want to stay here too long." He explained in a vague sort of way. He tried to sound a little apologetic but wasn't sure how good that came across. Talking to people was hard.
Now that that was out of the way, Quennel tried to guess why this person would even need a boat. He had never seen this kid before. You would think that as many times as he had been out here, he would have noticed someone like this on the boat wish him. Granted, that logic was flawed, since he just stayed inside and either slept or kept to himself. Turns out he was a lot more socially awkward than one would expect. "Are you hungry?" He sort of half blurted it out, not really thinking about it. "I am. My name's Quennel."
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© LAIKA [newclass=.selena]min-height: 200px; max-height: 200px; overflow: auto; margin: 5px 0; padding-right: 5px; color: #2E2E2E; text-align: justify; font: 11px calibri; text-transform: none;[/newclass][newclass=.selena b] color: #9A69A1;[/newclass][newclass=.selena::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 5px; border: solid 2px #fff; background: #D3D3D3;[/newclass][newclass=.selena::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]border: solid 2px #9A69A1; width: 5px; background: #9A69A1; border-radius: 5px;[/newclass][newclass=.selenatag]color:#BCBCBC; font: 10px calibri; text-transform: uppercase; text-align:right; [/newclass][newclass=.selenatag a]font: bold 10px calibri!important; text-transform: uppercase!important; [/newclass]
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and there's no remedy for memory your face like a melody, it won't leave my head
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Post by LIEVEN KRANTZ on Jan 14, 2016 17:56:20 GMT -7
this wave is stringing us along [attr="class","momshouse"] Quennel Wren notes// tried to keep it more reasonable "I've got no more reason to know what happened than you," Lieven yelled over, a good-natured tone to his voice. As the man drew closer he went to work on his fish. A net was produced from his side and slowly moved them over, one after the other, until they were neatly piled on top. He was just wrapping them up when the stranger got close enough to look in the eye. He offered a smile before responding to the other half of what he'd said. "I didn't want to stay too long either," the tone he used remained friendly as he tossed the fish over his shoulder, showing more strength than one might expect from his small frame, "There are things that need doing, items that need delivering, but sometimes it's just not an option," Lieven had come to terms with the fact that things don't work out the way you want all the time. Sometimes the fish didn't bite and sometimes the merchants weren't buying. Realizing the man was looking him over, Lieven opted to do the same. Still grinning he looked the man from head to toe. They were definitely better built than he was. Thicker arms and a wider frame. If nothing else the stranger -- or Quennel as he introduced himself -- was much more obviously masculine than him. A trait he found himself envying even now, "Name's Lieven, and I am pretty hungry. If you wanted to eat together I'd be game, but let me pawn these off on someone first." The awkwardness of the man didn't bother Lieven in the slightest, but the weight of the fish sure did. And it wasn't going to get any lighter. LAIKA OF GAGNAM STYLE [newclass=.momshouse]height:20px;padding:5px 0px;overflow:hidden;background:#3D3D3D;line-height:100%;text-align:center; margin-top: -30px; position: relative; z-index: 200; color:#EDEDED!important;text-transform:uppercase!important;font-family:cambria!important; font-style: italic!important; font-size:12px!important; opacity: 0; transition: all 1s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.momshouse:hover]opacity: 1; transition: all 1s ease;[/newclass][newclass=.momshouse a]color:#EDEDED!important;text-transform:uppercase!important;font-family:cambria!important; font-style: italic!important; font-size:12px!important;[/newclass]
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A feud in which a person seeks vengeance
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Post by Quennel Wren on Jan 16, 2016 18:01:54 GMT -7
[googlefont="Poppins"]
i'm so sick of that same old love | [attr="class","selena"]
Quennel let himself eye the fish for a moment after he was done investigating Lieven. He had never heard that name before. It didn't help him place if this was a male or female. Either way, that bag looked heavy and he wanted to be polite. "I can carry that for you. I know a place." If they were still open. When he had been scraping to get by, before he joined the fights, what few fish he could wrangle out of the water or swipe from a fisherman were sold to Auntie Linda at the market. That was years ago, though, so who knew if the old cow was still alive. It was better than just lugging the fish around until they got stinky, though.
"I know what you mean." Quennel continued as he started walking, slowly, away from the beach. He wondered if Lieven would actually follow him. He didn't turn to look. He was sort of worried he would turn around and no one would be there. "If I don't get back to work by tomorrow, the boss will have my ass, though." He didn't like the thought of being punished just because of a boat, but he guessed it couldn't be helped. He wondered if any of the higher ups would take pity on him. He guessed a 'no'.
"So, um, what brought you to town? There isn't much here." Quennel did his best to keep the conversation light. He didn't know if that question was asking for something too personal or not. From the earlier comment, it was assumed he was maybe here on business. Unless Lieven was some type of fisherman or ran one of the rings, Quennel couldn't figure out what that business might be. There was also possibility he was Aqua or even Magma, but that wasn't something he was just going to assume right out of the gate. You never knew about double dealers or just people fishing to sell info... not that he had any that was worth a wooden Poke.
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© LAIKA [newclass=.selena]min-height: 200px; max-height: 200px; overflow: auto; margin: 5px 0; padding-right: 5px; color: #2E2E2E; text-align: justify; font: 11px calibri; text-transform: none;[/newclass][newclass=.selena b] color: #9A69A1;[/newclass][newclass=.selena::-webkit-scrollbar]width: 5px; border: solid 2px #fff; background: #D3D3D3;[/newclass][newclass=.selena::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]border: solid 2px #9A69A1; width: 5px; background: #9A69A1; border-radius: 5px;[/newclass][newclass=.selenatag]color:#BCBCBC; font: 10px calibri; text-transform: uppercase; text-align:right; [/newclass][newclass=.selenatag a]font: bold 10px calibri!important; text-transform: uppercase!important; [/newclass]
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