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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2017 1:40:59 GMT
A sigh passed through his lips as he stared at the rubble of a caved in roof. He was standing in the gymnasium of Nootau's high school, a place he could not claim to have known. He was honestly only drawn here for the slightest bit of nostalgia, though he could not fathom why he would ever want to return to a high school, be it his own or otherwise. It was foolish, really. This was not the time to be hunting for nostalgia in a town he could never claim as his own. He should be searching for his brother, painstakingly combing through all of Nootau and the wilderness. Yet, he knew it was futile. He had already spent the majority of his time after the bombing in search of his baby brother, and that damned nagging voice in the back of his head was trying to convince him that it was useless. He's probably already dead, the voice reasoned. Even so, he did not want to give up on the faint shred of hope that he might possibly be a live. That still was not the reason why he was here, however. After aimlessly wandering the high school halls, ears and eyes alert for the faintest of sounds that no normal person would ever hear, he found his way to the gymnasium. There was another shred of hope that he dismissed almost as quickly as it had come, especially with the sight of the moonlight filtering in through what was once the roof. He had wanted to find a football, as weird at is may seen. He abhorred the sport, but at least there was some way to release his stress. He could have chucked the football at anything that looked at him wrong, or he could have just thrown it to play fetch. With himself. I'm getting too used to this dog thing. Wolf, not dog, but it was all the same for him. His tail flicked in annoyance, only reminding him more of his current form. While it was not unsightly--that much he had to be thankful for--it was still a hindrance all the same. He couldn't sit without having to make sure his tail was not beneath him, and it was almost impossible to hold anything with his claws. Even his own clothing had countless tears from the slightest of touches, and don't even get him started on trying to take them on or off. At least he didn't have dog ears or some deformed werewolf body. A frown tugged at his lips, and he shook his head to dismiss the thoughts. " Whatever," he grumbled, kicking at a chunk of the rubble. It shot out, embedding itself into the adjacent wall. He scoffed, turning away and passing through the double doors into one of the long hallways of the high school. He might as well see what he can scavenge before leaving the school behind.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 23, 2017 23:37:14 GMT
Every night consisted of the same routine, wake up once the malicious sun disappeared over the horizon then go outside to scavenge like every other survivor found in the post-apocalypse. Of course a majority of survivors were more probable to leave during the daylight hours since that's when they were able to see, but in Dexter's case it was different. Daylight, or any light for that matter, was truly a nuisance when it brought harm to one's eyes even when it wasn't overly bright. Thus, the red-head slipped into the location he decided to scavenge for the night, the Nootau High School. One of the downstairs offices had a shattered window that he could climb through instead of going through the door, which would be a lot simpler mind you, but on this particular night he wanted to get off the streets. Even a boy who's eyes could cut through the darkness was bound to feel a tad paranoid every now and again; it didn't help that Dexter was victim to a couple of nightmares the day prior. Cautiously, Dexter slipped through the broken window with slow movements. The last thing he desired was to get a nasty cut that he would be forced to care for. When he reached the other side, his shoes crunched on the chunks of glass below. The gifted boy took a glance around the room, finding an old desk and a knocked over office chair. Paper covered the once clean floor, some having shoe prints on their once stark white faces. Being a former student, Dexter recognized the place as the principal's office; a place of which he had been a few times when he got mixed up with a rotten group of "friends". A sigh slipped from his mouth upon remembering his days within the walls of the once wonderful looking building. None of the memories were ones he was particularly fond of considering that his high school days were often spent sitting around on his own or with the few people who likely pitied him. The curse of travelling at a young age had made friendship difficult which was just plain unfortunate. Dexter paused for a few moments to adjust the strap of his backpack and to double check that he hadn't forgotten his goggles in his hasty departure. The amber-tinted eye wear was still hanging lazily around his neck; the very item that gave his eyes some definition of protection should light attempt to rue the day. The door to the office was wide open, but there seemed to be nobody around at the moment. Perhaps it wasn't the best decision, but the red-head opted to leave the door alone and instead get to work. The last thing Dexter wanted was to be inside the high school for any longer than he needed to be. It could have been due to his thieving days or the slight paranoia that still lingered from his nightmares, but he wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. He took a couple of steps deeper into the office and glanced over the old desk that once belonged to the principal, whether or not the same one Dexter knew was completely unknown. Papers, a broken name tag, a destroyed computer, ruined books, pens and a ruler sat on the wooden surface. At a fast pace, Dexter shuffled through the items on the desk and found nothing particularly interesting or useful. Eventually the ruler ended up in one of his hands and after a brief glance at the measuring device, he threw it over his shoulder and sent it flying out the door. Certainly nobody would be needing a ruler in this hell. Without a second thought, Dexter went back to sifting through the items on the desk. WORDS: 633 TAGS: @sparrow NOTES: Just gonna pop in here. c:
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2017 0:39:35 GMT
There was something about the faintest echoing of footsteps that unnerved him. It might just be because he knew his steps were, for the most part, as quiet as a mouse. Slow, cautious, careful not to disturb too much rubble. He stepped over collapsed doors and toppled over chairs, dismissing garbage cans or the tattered remains of a backpack filled with textbooks that could only be used as kindling anymore. Yet, his footsteps might as well been canon fire in his ears. He slowed to a step, letting out a soft sigh. He needed to filter out his own movements if he was to keep his ears from ringing. The glow of his eyes disappeared as his eyelids drooped closed. His chest raised and fell with each slow inhale and exhale, taking in the musty air of the school building. Once even his own heartbeat was silenced in his ears, he slowly reopened his eyes, blinking until the subtle details of the hallway were once more apparent. While he may not have full night vision, his enhanced eye sight still allowed him to make out far more than the average person, even in dim moonlight. His head jerked slightly at the sound of a crunch further into the school. Glass? Most likely. There were shards everywhere on the floor, scattered from shattered windows caused by neglect and vandalism. Well, there were probably more reasons, but that was not important right now. I'm not alone. He had to bite back a growl that threatened to rumble deep within his throat, far more animalistic than the guttural sound a human could produce. For all he knew, it could just be some raccoon or a squirrel. That was just wishful thinking, however. Unmutated animals were becoming rarer and rarer, and it had to be something heavy to crunch on the glass like that. Sparrow took slow steps in the direction of the sound, keeping his ears alert for more sounds. There were footsteps, definitely human, and... rustling? If human, it's probably another scavenger. Which would mean he should remain alert. In such times, it was not uncommon to be attacked in an effort to obtain limited resources. Each step took him closer and closer to the noises, and he soon found himself far away from the gymnasium, passing various classrooms as he neared the offices. One door was left wide open, and the subtle noises were funneling out of the opening. He crouched as he neared, but he had not even reached the door before something shot out, soaring in the air. Overtaken by strong instincts, he darted forward as his form began to twist and shift. Hands and feet turned to paws, and a strong pair of jaws latched onto the flying ruler. Graceless and still partially in his clothing, the wolf fell to the ground with a resounding snap! He was up after a moment of scrambling, shaking himself out of his jeans. He ignored the tattered shirt hanging off of his neck, more intrigued by the ruler in his mouth. Blinking his glowing, golden eyes, he dropped the ruler, letting two halves and a couple of shards clatter to the ground. His head tilted as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened, staring down at the ruler before he pulled his gaze to the door. Whoops.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 24, 2017 1:50:12 GMT
Naturally, Dexter was unable to hear the approaching stranger due to his unrefined ears alongside the quiet steps the unknown man took. Although the slight paranoia still lurked in the back of his mind, the red-headed man paid only mild interest in his surroundings, which was error that could someday become fatal. At this current moment that error did not matter, what was significant to Dexter was getting out of this dreaded place. He only had a few moments to scan over the documents that remained on the wooden desk; they mostly consisted of schedules and even a couple of progress reports that were of little value to any scavenger. In all honesty, Dexter had only sifted through the papers in hopes of finding some sort of treasure amidst the trash. Before the man had a chance to dig further into ludicrously boring white sheets, a rather loud snapped echoed into the principal's office. The unexpected noise caused the gifted scavenger to jump instantly and turn himself quickly towards the door. Without any forethought, Dexter backed away from the wide-open door with full knowledge that he wasn't the only creature in this high school. His steps backwards were more of a shuffle. This was quite the predicament, being in a building with some sort of animal or person with possible malicious intentions. In complete silence, Dexter scanned the doorway alongside the hallway beyond, but did not notice the ruler's absence from the floor. Certainly it had to be an animal, right? The very thought was far more concerning than having to deal with a human being. The mutated animals birthed from the effects of Maras were terrifying, vicious and could not be reasoned with. Either way the noise warranted some investigation, especially since for all Dexter knew the high school was no longer a safe scavenging ground. Besides, if things went very array he could always fall back on his umbrakinesis which would be realiable due to the surrounding shadows that he could sense. With slow paced steps, the red-head made his way towards the threshold of the door. Part of him wanted to flee instantly considering this seemed like a horror movie set-up where a character decides to investigates and ends up getting killed. However, the thought didn't deter him completely since most horror movie protagonists did not have powers to defend themselves. As Dexter neared the door he heard a clattering sound which caused him to hesitate momentarily. He began to feel a tad nervous about what he would discover awaiting him in the hallway. A deep breath was all Dexter could do to keep himself calm in the situation. Once he peered around the doorframe he found something that he wasn't quite expecting. A wolf was gazing his way, a tattered shirt hanging around the creature's neck and a broken ruler at his paws. Up until now, Dexter had forgotten about the ruler since it was deemed a useless item and was probably going to serve no use to anybody in its condition. The strangest part was the fact that the wolf did not have a single mutation grace its form, which was a rarity nowadays. " Huh, at least you're not mutated," Dexter muttered quietly. He really hoped the creature had no secret abilities and would easily do away with him. For a few moments Dexter merely watched the wolf and prayed that the creature has no plans to attack him. All the while, he could not get over the fact that there were clothes around the wolf. He hadn't yet arrived at the conclusion of a shapeshifter. Dexter placed his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie while he waited to see what exactly the creature would do. If the wolf acted violently, then he would defend himself, but otherwise he would leave the creature be since it probably had its own problems getting by. With his dark blue eyes on the mysterious wolf, Dexter ventered a little further into the hallway until he was in the center. WORDS: 674 TAGS: @sparrow NOTES: N/a.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2017 20:52:55 GMT
His ears flicked with uncertainty before drawing back, nearly flattening against his head as a form entered the doorway. The sounds he had heard before were definitely that of a human, unless a zoo's apes suddenly mutated to stand on their hind legs without any sort of slouch or awkward joints. The scent, however, was definitely not ape, and the mop of hair on the stranger's head could have given that away. Slowly blinking and briefly dismissing the golden glow of his eyes, the grey wolf took a step back, only to pause. Lifting one of his paws, he swiped forward against the broken ruler, brushing the remains underneath him. It was almost as if he was ashamed of what he had done, hiding the evidence before anyone could see. He switched to kicking back with his hind legs once the shards were underneath him, causing one of the halves to shoot out and lodge itself in the wall. Perking his ears and looking behind him, a faint whine passed through his nose as if to say whoops again. His attention immediately snapped back to the stranger at the sound of his voice, one ear drooping slightly. Did he think of him as an actual animal? Well, it wasn't like he could speak in this form, nor had the stranger witnessed his shift. One would think the glowing eyes without the gleam of another light source would be a dead giveaway, at least to the mutation part. Briefly averting his gaze in search of his discarded jeans, he returned his attention as the stranger stepped forward. He stepped back in response, drooping his ears before deciding to take a chance. With a quick turn, he scooped up one of the legs of his jeans into his mouth, trying his hardest not to bite through the material. He turned toward the open office door, only to pause and judge just how much room there was between the man and the door. With a huff, he chose to stride forward with his head held high and his jeans dragging against the ground. He ended up stumbling a few times by stepping on his pants, ending his charade of looking like he knew what he was doing. Once he was inside the office, he kicked the door closed. Only then did he drop the jeans, taking a few steps before the sound of cracking bones once more filled there air for only a moment. It disappeared with a faint gasp of air, and the man quickly grabbed his pants and stood. He forced them onto his legs, jumping twice before he could button them. He took one look at the shirt dangling from his neck before rolling his eyes. Long fingers reached up and gripped the fabric, yanking once to tear it from his neck. Ruined and possibly useless to him now, he shoved what he could into his pockets, ignoring the strips that hung down. " I wouldn't make assumptions so easily, kid," Sparrow called out, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand as he reached forward with his other, curling his fingers around the knob and turning. The door opened with a creak that caused him to wince and jerk his hand away, letting it swing open the rest of the way until it was stopped with a clack at the wall. Glowing eyes focused on the door for a moment more, narrowing into a glare as his hand fell away from his neck. He should have just yanked it off the hinges. That would have solved the squeaking problem. Ah, wait... Sparrow tore his gaze away from the door, turning his attention toward the hallway in search of the redhead who had thrown the ruler. While he may not be one to actively seek out those he stumbled across, it had been some time since his last encounter. Keeping to the outskirts of town and the woods meant limited social contact, and, well, he did not want to turn into the guy who could only barked at squirrels.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 26, 2017 19:37:57 GMT
Now Dexter had absolutely no clue to how he did not notice the wolf's glowing eyes. Even the most observant found themselves having moments of obliviousness and the red-head was no exception to that. In silence, Dexter watched the wolf since he didn't know how to handle the creature. The folding back of the ears and attempt to hide the broken ruler was a peculiar sight that caused Dexter to tilt his head to the side. A curious gleam was in the boy's eye considering that animals did not usually display embarrassment unless scolded. This gaze did not last long. When the wolf kicked the two pieces of ruler back they collided into the wall, embedding themselves into it. The unexpected move caused Dexter to backpedal away from the door. At this point, he figured out that the grey wolf in front of him was far from a regular old wolf. During his backing away, Dexter had not noticed a piece of fallen ceiling behind him and when his foot collided with the piece debris he fell to the hard ground. The sudden loss of balance made the red-headed man fail to catch himself, thus he hit the ground hard. Slight pain sparked up his back and shoulders, the worst being the back of his head that had hit the floor. Dexter swore under his breath at his own stupidity. He should have been a lot more careful! Due to the fall the red-headed boy merely heard the door to the office slam shut. Upon hearing the door the red-head quickly pushed himself into a sitting position, which caused some brief dizziness to follow. When it passed, his dark blue eyes searched the area to find that both the mysterious wolf and the clothing were gone. " What... the?" Dexter murmured in confusion. He was still a tad rattled from hitting his head against the floor. Slowly, one of the gifted boy's hands reached up to rub the back of his head. Eventually, he noticed the cacophony of noise coming from the other side of the office door. For a few seconds, Dexter stared at the door while he wondered what exactly was happening on the other side of the threshold. At a steady pace the boy managed to get his feet back under him and stand back up to his average stature. There was uncertainty in his mind; he didn't know whether it was best to leave now or stick around to see what would unfold. He was by all means still in a rather interesting predicament since presumably the wolf had disappeared behind the door, or perhaps this was all a hallucination and another survivor was within the office. Either way it was difficult to decide and he still had yet to arrive to the true conclusion. Today must be a slow day for Dexter. When a voice spoke from the beyond the door, it finally clicked. The amount of time it took Dexter to realize made him feel a tad dense. " Whatever, it didn't seem like you intended to hurt me," Dexter responded in a mutter. Truthfully, he did not want to admit that he was having a slow day. Dexter watched as the door opened with a squeal of protest, obviously nobody had taken the liberty of caring for high school and its squeaky doors. Of course, squeaky doors were the least of most people's worries nowadays. The red-headed boy looked at the wolf man who had broken the ruler and sent it flying into a wall. It seemed the shirt that he once wore had gotten scrapped, which made sense considering how torn it was. Finally, the introvert noticed the glowing, yellow eyes the stranger possessed. How did he miss that? Dexter did his best to remain alert, clearly this guy had a lot of strength; the rulers that were embedded into the wall were a testament to that. On most occasions, the gifted boy would avoid these situations since generally socially interaction wasn't his forte. Spending time in solitude was always more appealing and less draining than interacting with other people. Such was the life of an introvert, not always wanting social interaction and appreciating some alone time whenever the chance was given. WORDS: 710 TAGS: @sparrow NOTES: Oh... shoot. Forgot that Sparrow's eyes glow. ^^' Heh... heh... Welp, now to say that Dexter was having an oblivious moment!
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Post by Deleted on Mar 27, 2017 1:01:35 GMT
It did not take long for the glow of his eyes to settle upon the other survivor, finding him with little effort in the darkness. He had to admit that it was stupid to stick around any longer than either of them had already. He had been expecting the stranger to leave, possibly to either get as far away from him or just because a lone scavenger usually did not take kindly to others. While he kept his face impassive, the slight pleasure to find the other man still there managed to make his tail wag. Only once, more like a sway of acknowledgement than the propeller tails some dogs acquired from the smallest traces of excitement or happiness. " Could've just been an act to lower your guard, yanno?" Crossing his arms over his bare chest, he moved to lean against the door frame. His eyes raked over the scavenger's form, finding it easier to make finer observations now that he was at his full height. " Y' shouldn't even trust a stray dog if it's hungry enough." His eyes lingered in their search for a moment longer before drawing upward to focus on the stranger's face. It might be unwise to press the issue of assumptions any longer. It might start setting off all the wrong flags, and he did not want to have to worm his way around that. First impressions were big, after all, and he did not want to leave the impression that he was out to cause harm. " Y' took quite the fall there. Y' hurt anywhere?" While the concern was genuine, he had a hard time expressing it on his face. A frown remained on his lips as his eyes once more swept over the other man's form. He took a few deep breaths, searching for the coppery scent of blood. " I don't have any bandages on me," or much of anything for that matter. No backpack, no jacket with extra pockets, nothing. He had left it hidden away in his temporary camp so he could travel lightly. "B ut, y' can use the shirt if y' need to. Kinda useless to me now," he let his voice trail off, tightening his lips into a line. His tail swayed once more as he averted his gaze, focusing on a grime covered window that only sported a few cracks yet no shattered holes. " Uh, I'm Sparrow, by the way." The introduction was sudden, short, and informal, partially because there was some part of him that felt like it was needed. Whether or not the name would be important later did not matter much to him. At the very least, a name to a face would be nice. Golden eyes once more glanced toward the man, a small, sheepish grin finally breaking past his frown. " You, uh, didn't need that ruler, right?"
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 27, 2017 22:58:11 GMT
Lingering around the area was could have possibly became one of the worst ideas that Dexter had gotten, however, fortune smile upon him and his company did not appear to have any malicious intentions. Although there was naturally no certainty to that, thus caution was a necessity in this situation. With that in mind the red-headed man watched the unknown shapeshifter since one never knows when a wolf in sheep's clothing may be present. When the man leaned against the door frame, Dexter took a couple of steps back, this time stepping over any rubble that littered the hallway. Tripping once was embarrassment enough and a second time would make him seem clumsy. The gifted boy shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweater while he listened to the stranger speak. It was funny receiving this lecture, especially since he had given a similar one to another survivor about trust and how assumptions were bad. Unfortunately, Dexter didn't have much of a rebuke to what the stranger said since each word of it was pure truth. " Yeah, yeah, I know," Dexter responded rather rudely. The way the red-head responded made him sound like a teenager brushing off one of his parent's speeches. The stranger certainly meant well, but that did not seem to matter to the introvert currently since he wasn't overly pleased with his moment of idiocy. When it came to first impressions it was unbeknownst to Dexter on how exactly to make them pleasant due to his severe lacking of social experience. Shortly, Dexter began to notice that the stranger was looking him over which suggested that he had some level of visibility within the darkness. Whether it was on par with the gifted boy's night vision was completely unknown to Dexter. When the stranger began to show some concern for him, Dexter began to feel a tad bit guilty over his rude response. He did not think that the shapeshifter would offer him anything after his fall. Automatically, Dexter's hand reached back to feel the back of his head and the sticky liquid that came from the wound. The red-head lowered his hand and looked at the small splotches of red that speckles it, the wound was by not serious. As he stared at the palm of his hand, he discovered a few scrap marks, but nothing that was bleeding. Without much thought he whipped his hand on his pants; chances were a few stains didn't matter when one was in the apocalypse. " I'm fine," Dexter assured. " It ain't that bad so don't worry about it. People get hurt all the time and a little fall like that isn't too bad." The pain had ebbed away until it was more subtle, although Dexter's head still ached from the bang it received. Suddenly the man introduced himself as Sparrow which caused the introvert's attention to snap back to his new acquaintance. The gifted boy hesitating before relaying his own name. " I'm Dexter." For the most part, Dexter avoided eye contact and merely looked at his surroundings. On a majority of occasions he could see the other person and remain mostly hidden in the shadows, but that didn't seem to be the case here. When the stranger commented on the ruler, Dexter took a glance at where it ended up. " Luckily not, so at least somebody enjoyed it," Dexter replied with a brief chuckle. A small grin was present on his face; after the way he dismissed Sparrow's advice he could at least act like he was enjoying this. WORDS: 596 TAGS: @sparrow NOTES: N/a
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Post by Deleted on Mar 29, 2017 20:03:13 GMT
The stranger's rudeness was easily deflected and ignored by Sparrow. It was hard to get under his skin, especially since he had to deal with two younger brothers. They might have been on the more agreeable side of the teenage spectrum, but teenagers were teenagers. Their sass and sarcastic remarks were relentless, and it had allowed Sparrow to obtain some level of indifference to it. He couldn't recall ever being like that, other than to his father. That man deserved all the back-sass he had to give and then some. This only made him wonder what the age of the stranger was. His golden eyes swept over the other's form once more, trying to pick out any details that would confirm his general age. Older teen, possibly? He was definitely younger, but it was hard to tell too much in the darkness. However, in his observations, he did pick up the scent of blood. Its metallic scent was easy enough to find among the scents of mold, mildew, and rubble. It caused his frown to return, wiping away the hint of a smile he once held. The dark haired man leaned away from the door, reaching down to pull the scrapped shirt out of his pocket. " Y' say that now, but y' can't hind the smell of blood. Y'll regret it later if a predator catches a whiff or if infection sets in." Don't worry, he says. Pah. He came from a family in the medical field filled with brothers. Usually having brothers made you shrug off smaller wounds, but his mother would always fuss at the slightest scratches. That only rubbed off on Sparrow to the point of being the overbearing big brother. It would not sit well with him if he allowed the stranger--or, Dexter, as his introduction revealed--leave without getting patched up. " Yea, that 'somebody' was the stupid mutt with the prey drive of a sighthound," he could not stop the grumble, letting out a huff as he took a step back and glanced over his shoulder. The office did not have the best angle for the moonlight, shrouded in darkness that hindered the vision of even those with enhanced sight like him. His nose was far more suited for nighttime travels. Turning his head forward, Sparrow passed through the door and into the hallway. " Follow me, Dex. I'll patch y' up, even if I have t' drag you to a better light source. 'Promise I'll be gentle." He beckoned with the hand holding the torn shirt as he stepped up on the rubble to cross over, his tail shifting and swaying with his movements. A few more steps were taken down the hallway before he paused, glancing over his shoulder to check if Dexter was going to follow.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Mar 30, 2017 1:22:28 GMT
From what Dexter could see, the man was unperturbed by his rude comment or at least he did not show it. Clearly this individual had quite a bit of tolerance when it came to rude comments like the one the red-head had just made. That was a good trait to possess when dealing with Dexter since a majority of his remarks could be a tad rude. The guilt seemed to dissipate with how Sparrow reacted since he didn't seem to care about the response one bit. It would have been unlikely for the introvert to have that tolerance considering he was an only child plus his parents would have scolded him by now. During a brief moment there was a look of surprise on Dexter's face with the way his acquaintance ignored the remark. It was probably for the best since angering a guy with super strength generally seemed like an absolutely terrible idea. When Sparrow began informing him about how serious even a wound like the one he had was, Dexter merely shrugged and noted the frown the man wore. Truly the red-head could not care less about the wound since with infinite night vision you get placed on a strict schedule. He could always deal with it once he returned home and into the safety of his dark sanctuary. " It's just a small scratch, I can deal with it later," Dexter insisted. " Besides, I sorta have to keep moving. Don't wanna be here too long." Dexter decided it was a better choice not to tell the person he just met about his infinite night vision for the time being. It was peculiar to have somebody he barely knew be concerned over a minor wound. It was a nice gesture and Sparrow definitely meant well, but being caught in the sunlight would definitely hurt the introvert more than the insignificant wound he had obtained. There was a reason why the cut wasn't top priority to the gifted boy. When the man grumbled back, Dexter couldn't help, but wince. Maybe the ruler had not been that interesting and it seemed his attempt at friendliness had failed. Perhaps it would have been better if he had simply stated that the ruler was useless. Dexter watched Sparrow for a few moments until he entered the hallway and told him to follow. A look of mild annoyance was drawn up on the introvert's face, he could tell that Sparrow was being rather benevolent with how he insisted on helping him out. For a moment, the red-head stood there debating if it would be faster to just follow or attempt to escape. The thought of the rulers embedded into the wall entered the introvert's mind, clearly Sparrow could drag him down the hallway should he need to. Dexter merely groaned in annoyance. " Fine, but this better be quick. I don't have much time to spare here." With a few speedy steps, Dexter caught up, his darkness suited eyes making it a simple to task of picking out the rubble. There was not an ounce of hesitation to his steps as he followed. This was one of those moments when night vision was a perk; now he just had to hope that it this better light source would not turn out to be a flashlight or something similar. WORDS: 554 TAGS: @sparrow NOTES: N/a
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2017 17:50:14 GMT
there was an actual post here but mink done goofed and posted the new post in the edit WOW -- lotsa sparrow fussing -- him thinking he's hilarious with "jokes" about "hunting" -- compares dex to a rabbit -- lotsa sparrow saying dumb stuff -- and he made some makeshift seats out of rubble
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Post by Dexter Adams on Apr 1, 2017 20:52:03 GMT
For years Dexter had travelled and recieved a couple of insignificant injuries, all of which got tended to in due time. That did not seem to be the case this time since the introvert's company insisted that dealing with the small wound was importance and should take priority above anything else. Now leaving was the preferred choice, bet Dexter was unable to turn the hands of time backwards which meant he was stuck here and forced to face the consequences, which weren't that bad; if anything just was tad annoying to the red-head. While he followed he wondered for a moment if Sparrow even treated paper cuts in such a manner. Upon hearing that he could have escaped Dexter gave a slightly shrug. " In my defense, I had no clue that you would insist this much about a small wound," Dexter started. He knew the man was right, he should have left as soon as that door slammed shut. " I also thought I would've been on my way soon anyways. Guess I was completely wrong about that." Then came the rabbit comment that caught Dexter completely off guard. The introvert couldn't help, but just stare at the wolf man for a few moments; he was absolutely lost on how to respond to basically being called a rabbit. " Uhh... Why exactly do I remind you of a rabbit?" Dexter asked with a hint of confusion in his words. It took a few moments for the red-headed man to understand what the comparison meant and after a few moments he added. " Never mind, I get it now and some people have a reason to hurry." It was a true statement since a majority of the time Dexter was hastily trying to go about his tasks and return to the welcoming darkness of his base before daybreak. Even while he sorted through supplies he got fidgety and felt compelled to hasten his efforts despite only being there for around a few minutes. The introvert noticed when Sparrow slowed his pace, but merely shrugged it off as some benevolent act and nothing more. When the comment of being afraid of the sun came up, Dexter instinctively flinched. The attempted joke was not overly funny to him. That was essentially the entire reason he wanted to hurry, although it leaned more towards the side of extreme hatred. Spring already brought less night hours and his light sensitive vision rendered daylight hours to be nearly useless. " Let's just say my eyes are a... little sensitive to light," Dexter responded simply. Technically his eyes were more than a little sensitive, but the last thing the gifted boy wanted was to give away more information than intended. There may have been plenty of time before sunrise, but the introvert still considered every minute of time to be precious. It tends to happen when the only time you have to scavenge is when there is little to no light. Afterwards there was mostly silence, the sound of their footsteps being the only noise filling the hallway. In those moment of quiet, Dexter merely followed. He was never the best at maintaining conversations since he wasn't socially adept. When he entered the gymnasium after Sparrow, his gaze first shifted to the chunk of felled ceiling where moonlight poured in. The dim light of the moon was never a bother unless Dexter stared directly at it, but it could at times cause a sting if he looked at it for an extended period of time. When Sparrow spoke, the introvert merely nodded and took the shapeshifter's word for it since he could only sense that the shadows were less dense. Slowly, the red-head walked a little further into the gymnasium. He never really enjoyed gym class, but it was still sureal to see the gymnasium so drastically altered. While Sparrow got things prepared, Dexter gazed around the practically destroyed room until he was called over. Dexter walked over towards the makeshift seats while he slid his pack off his shoulders. The small amount of items inside rustled against each other. It seemed like a better idea than keeping the backpack on his shoulders. The introvert merely nodded as response and did as he was told. He carefully placed the pack next to him and uttered a few words. " Let's just get this over with." WORDS: 723 TAGS: @sparrow NOTES: N/a
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Deleted
I joined in January 1970. I've made 0 posts and threads.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 1, 2017 21:41:25 GMT
There had been a brief moment where Sparrow stilled at the new information, golden eyes staring down at nothing in particular. Part of him wished that he could take back his poor excuses for jokes, offhanded questions just to fill the silence he was so accustomed to. Yet, there was that other part that knew he never could. What was said was said and now he wished he had just kept his mouth shut. It was almost like his misadventures trying to fit in with his football teams, always saying something dumb without realizing it. More often than not, those cases were always when the team was picking on someone, the times when he he tried his hardest to bite his tongue to keep himself from speaking out again them. Sparrow visibly relaxed, but his mind continued to churn. His tail was as rigid as a taxidermy display and probably would have tucked between his legs had he not been sitting, and the muscles along his back refused to completely feign the outwardly relaxed appearance. Miraculously, he did manage to remain quiet this time. He only nodded to Dexter's words, not wanting to try continuing his pathetic ramblings. He waited until Dexter seemed situated before lifting both hands, hesitating for a moment. There was that fear that he might hurt Dexter by getting careless or actually trying to rush. His strength was not the only thing he was worried about, also afraid that his claws might accidentally scratch him and make his injuries worse. Well, there was no going back now. It would just be a waste of time otherwise, and he had already done enough of that for the stranger. With the softest of sighs, he finally reached forward and began threading his fingers through Dexter's hair. He kept his movements gentle and slow, knowing very well that the rougher movements he might have used in the past to keep his brothers from squirming out of his grasp would only make matters far worse than they needed to be. Glowing eyes kept alert as he carefully brushed away hair until he found the wound. With the moonlight's help, he managed to discern that the red hue to the other's hair was not from the blood. In the previous darkness with less lighting, the red had been hard to see and easily to mistake as brown, and he was quick to take a mental note of his actual hair color. Whether it would be of use later on? He had no clue. It was still nice to know. " ... I'm sorry for being a bother..." He finally spoke up, breaking his silence. His voice remained barely above a whisper, just loud enough that Dexter would be able to hear him, yet it sounded like thunder in his own ears. Pulling his hands away once he made note where the wound was, he grabbed the tattered shirt hanging off his leg, tearing off a long strip with ease. The bulk was dropped onto his leg once more, his free hand reaching to gently brush back his hair to reveal the small injury once more. The rest of his movements were to secure the fabric over the wound and around his head, using his claws with caution to pull his hair out from underneath so it would fall over the temporary bandage and mostly hide it. " Done, Sparrow breathed the word out, removing his hands.
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I joined in January 1970. I've made 51 posts and threads.
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Post by Dexter Adams on Apr 2, 2017 2:13:33 GMT
The fact that Dexter had given about his eyes was merely meant as a comment, but there were some unintentional consequences to the fact. There was not any possible way that Sparrow could've known about his light sensitive vision. The conversation retreated to a thick silence which seemed like it planned to draw out for a while. During the quiet, the introvert felt guilty about not at least attempting to keep the conversation going, but he did not have much social skill. Thus, Dexter just silently observed his surroundings while he pondered on a few things. Dexter thought it was best to focus on his scavenging plan since it seemed like a proper use of the quiet period, but it was awkward to do when someone was trying to tend to a wound. The subtle pain from Sparrow rifting through his hair to find the injury made it difficult to focus. The gifted boy's dark blue eyes surveyed the gymnasium the best they could without moving his head. There was still a strange feeling being within the confines of the high school again. High school wasn't too bad, but most of it was spent with a terrible crowd or by himself. He did after all get socially exhausted and valued his alone time; it was what happened to most introverts. Nowadays social situations were sparse which made it difficult to feel exhausted by them. Unfortunately, it didn't change his feelings towards personal space, thus at the current moment Dexter felt a little uncomfortable. Yet, he felt that he couldn't complain since Sparrow was tending to a wound that would have definitely been difficult to attend to alone. Perhaps he was in a little bit too much of a hurry, but at the same time it was difficult to take things leisurely when sunlight was your nemesis. When Sparrow apologized, Dexter exhaled a long breath. " Don't apologize, you meant well. I shouldn't have complained so much. You were just trying to help," he responded. " Can we just pretend that I wasn't being a complaining jerk?" Dexter generally felt bad about being rude to the person who merely wanted to help him. Not many people would be this nice in the apocalypse! The red-head hoped that Sparrow would agree to that since he was a little grateful for the help; although he still felt the mild annoyance for the inconvient timing, however, the shapeshifter didn't need to know that. Silently, Dexter sat while the "medic" finished up his bandaging. By the end, the introvert was feeling tad fidgety and was contant playing with the cuffs of his sweater. He really disliked staying in one place; in all honesty he had no clue how this developed, but it was probably because of the idea of dangerous survivors coming to rue the day. When Sparrow stated he was done and removed his hands, Dexter grabbed his bag and instantly got down. It wasn't anything against Sparrow, but the introvert did prefer to have a big amount of personal space. The red-head swung his pack onto his back and made certain it was secure. " Thanks. I may not have sounded like it before, but I'm grateful," Dexter said, flashing a brief smile. The red-head took a couple more moments to look around the gymnasium as he decided his next course of action. Dexter wasn't sure if perhaps it was better to leave now or stick around ad scavenge despite the presence of another survivor. It seemed improbably Sparrow would harm him after all. WORDS: 588 TAGS: @sparrow NOTES: N/a
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Deleted
I joined in January 1970. I've made 0 posts and threads.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2017 13:32:08 GMT
In the past, Sparrow would have agreed to anything just to move a conversation on or to stop his so-called friends from becoming a pain in the neck. Pretending something never happened was something he had grown accustomed to; he could easily do that. However, this time he was not so inclined to fully agree to the request. " I wouldn't call y' a jerk," he began, though he said nothing on the complaining part. There was no way to refute that. " I was on the football team; I think I'd know a jerk when I saw one." Dexter was not anywhere close to the level of the people he hung out with during his high school days. Those boys and girls were jerks, the stereotypical jocks and cheerleaders who could only be considered popular because everyone either wanted nothing to do with them for the safety of their own high school career or wanted to be like them for the power they held over the school. He still wondered to today how they managed to seem like they were straight out of the high school cliques movie. Sparrow remained where he sat as the other scavenger moved away. Glowing eyes remained trained on his moon highlighted form for a few moments before he finally averted his gaze. The man slowly stood, brushing off the dust from the back of his jeans and slapping down his scruffy tail as if it would really keep it from straying into view. He really needed to just stuff it down his pants, but the cramp that resulted from the last time he tried was not something he preferred to go through again. His eyes snapped toward Dexter at the sound of his voice piercing through the silence once more, and he merely nodded in acknowledgement. He glanced around before his attention settled on the moon peering through the gaping hole in the roof. He cleared his throat. " Guess I should leave y' be, huh?" He turned toward Dexter, still unable to find the willpower to move from his spot on the rubble. " If y're ever in a pickle, just shout m' name. I'll hear y'." He paused, realizing how strange that might have sounded, especially to a stranger. One of his hands reached up to rub at the back of his neck, once more turning his head away to avert his gaze. " ... Or don't, I guess." His voice trailed off into a mumble. " God, that sounded so dumb." ooc: sorry for the delay! ;-;
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