Hello there! At 11:30 PM EST, I will be doing an IC movie stream to celebrate my 18th birthday which was yesterday!
In the meanwhile, enjoy this quality graphic, and spread the word! The more people the better!
((My goal is to do replies here tomorrow. Granted, it’s been a while, so if any of the people I reply to wish to discontinue the rp, no hard feelings!))
Joshua’s speech against the Legion came as little surprise to Constanza. Graham was the Burned Man, and Caesar had more than wronged him—the dictator had practically destroyed him. This was the part where she agreed to every word he had, even nodding her head in assent at least once. The tone of his voice contained just a hint of that indomitable iron will that the fallen Legate was known for, and Constanza found herself slipping back into her own warrior mentality.
The words that followed gave her brief pause, for her mind strained to wrap itself around his words. You’re the Burned Man, the Walking Spirit! she thought incredulously, You hate the Legion more than anyone else. Or so the Judeans said. The idea of leaving Caesar and all of his cronies for God to finish them left a bitter taste in the huntress’s mouth. “My Goddess seeks to punish the ill-minded, too. It’s just that she prefers a more direct way.” Constanza replied, “Buddha once said that holding in anger is like drinking poison and expecting your adversary to die. I like to think that I’m doing something more constructive with my negative emotions…like channeling it into killing Legionaries.”
The huntress noticed his pace had slowed, for she was able to visibly catch up. A quiet “Thank you,” passed her lips, and she continued on.
Something acrid caught in her nostrils; the smell of smoke. Fire. Camp. Voices—unintelligible at this distance, but of a human timbre—reached her ears. “Zion must be an explorer’s paradise—I’ll have to see some of these havens myself once I heal.”
When the stone pillars—striped sandstone and granite that rose from the earth like the teeth of a beast—heralded their proximity to the Dead Horse’s camp, Joshua motioned for her to follow him into the water. The Virgin was as gentle as its namesake; it softly murmured day and night, eroding the riverbanks with centuries of honed patience and skill. The water sloshed around his ankles as he waded between the canyon walls.
The breathing of the camp could be heard right when one stepped into the river; the Dead Horse tribe was full of life after the war. Smoke touched the sky, and children sculpted with mud along the banks of the Virgin. The smell of cooking meat wafted through the air. Any of the destruction, the blight that had ruined their tribe for those long months, had seemingly been erased from memory. People stared at Joshua and the woman as they passed. Their fear of the stranger was the only evidence that the White Legs had attacked; it was reflected so passionately in their eyes.
Joshua ushered her into the center of camp, motioned for her to sit on one of the furs resting by the fire, and then left her. When he returned a short while later he held two carved plates; he handed one to her and placed the other on the ground as he settled on the fur.
“Eat. You will need your strength to recover. Later I can look at your leg—that is what is troubling you, correct? Perhaps we could also discuss our…philosophies more.” He parted the bandages surrounding his mouth as he said this, revealing the tattered and scared flesh below, the ragged, chapped lips.
((One day I’ll get into more detail about Joshua’s Legion wife and what happened to her exactly.
Of course, knowing my love of characters killing their loved ones, you can probably guess what happened.
What do you find attractive in a woman?
…I try to distance myself from women in that regard. My past wife…
Well, regardless, I try not to look for suitable lovers among people.
Feast of Fire-c107
I could probably manage one or two more!
((Sorry replies have been so slow! I’m finishing up my portfolio for college which is due Wednesday and I conveniently saved most of the writing for now :( After Wednesday’s inevitable session of weeping, I should be able to reply a lot more frequently. Memes are just easy for me to do currently as they take zero brain power.))
"Oh, thank fucking jesus," he said, almost breathlessly. Grabbing his boot, he half-climbed, half-slid-down-on-ass down the rock, landing ungracefully but happily. "Yeah, I’m alone. You’re the first guy I’ve seen in, like, feels like weeks." (A few days.) "I thought the earth coulda fuckin’ ended again and I was the last guy on earth, damn."
With no regard for personal space, he quickly closed the gap between himself and Joshua, clapping him on the arms and squeezing slightly. “I could fuckin’ kiss you, man.”
The stranger was probably a man. Had a mannish voice. But it was hard to tell under the bandages and jean-bound shapely thighs.
Joshua was not a man to curse (he could still feel the stinging pull of his father’s fingers on his ear whenever he did, a ghost of past punishments) and so the various expletives, especially surrounding his /holy figure/, made him twist his lips into a deeper frown. Then the man touched him and he couldn’t help but cringe visibly. Gently he pried Jack from his arm with a soft hiss of pain and stepped back so that he was out of reach for any future advances.
"Well I’m glad that I found you then. I can offer you safety in my camp if you prove to me that you are not a servant of Caesar." He dropped his voice an octave and cast his steely gaze on the traveler. "They are…/unwelcome/ here."