‧͙⁺˚*･༓ ♱ bones and honey

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:1.2;font-size:9pt;"]welcome to my new storage/dump! here i’ll be keeping my notes, characters, writing, and more! you’re more than welcome to post and chat here if you’d like. i’m also always open to plotting or chatting, so don’t be afraid to pm me or add me on discord (linked below!) enjoy! :^)

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[align=center][i]pinterest page ⋆ discord: south#3575 to plot/chat!

[finny.]

hehe

[truce.]

tracking hehehe

[scully.]

oh shi am here

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:1.2;font-size:9pt;"]hehe hi besties <33

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:1.2;font-size:9pt;"]what do i hope to achieve with these characters?
>highly interactive, realistic, and long lasting characters. able to create plots not only with others but in TNW itself. fun to write.

characters i may revamp
>jacksboro, sköll, bane, bear, osirus, jackie, faustus, himbo.
>name ideas: coyote (kai-yot)
>what they bring:[i]
- sköll brings a youthful, (mostly) lighthearted chaos to TNW. his dialogue and actions often provoke reactions. extremely capable of creating a scene. when pushed, sköll can become extremely dangerous, providing drama and battles. (if i choose him, i’d like to create his counterpart in his backstory being hati to follow the norse myth he’s inspired by). (this role seems underdone at the moment and holds a potential for many plots).
- jacksboro, bane, faustus, and osirus bring nearly the same possibility to fulfill the antihero role. all are capable, intimidating men who have rough pasts and may be morally grey, but have the goodness of heart to bet on. often leaders of communities. (this role seems already filled by multiple in TNW).
- bear provides a youthful, optimistic feeling despite his morose aura. young boy weighed with hallucinations, minor memory loss, and pure teenage angst. his actions often provoke warm interactions: helping bear through an attack, creating art, feeling welcomed. (this role seems less interesting to me, and not needed).
- [himbo] provides a lighthearted humor to TNW. he serves the protector role but also the fool role. capable and strong, he will uplift those around him with undying loyalty and love. his actions provoke warm interactions, humorous, childlike, and loving. (this role seems fun and it could be a good sense of connectivity)!

[south]

[div style="width:368px;text-align:justify;line-height:1.2;font-size:9pt;"]

[ SKÖLL ] [i]I WILL NOT LET YOU STEP ON ME, FOR I HAVE FELT THE BRUNT OF ONE TOO MANY FEET ON MY BACK // SO TELL ME, LITTLE WOLF, WOULD YOU LIKE TO PUNISH THOSE WHO HAVE WRONGED YOU?

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:1.2;font-size:9pt;"]test

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[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:1.2;font-size:9pt;"][ BAD DOG ] An excerpt from Sköll's past. Just before he would go on to travel from his home, set 6 or so months before his arrival at Flintlock.

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"Alright... You can drop the knife, boy."

His head cocked slightly as his senses seemed to rush back. A soft breath escaped his parted lips as he met the gaze of the speaker, whose eyes were blown with fear, his body tense.

He was afraid of Sköll.

They all were. The eyes of his groupmates bore into the boy, silent, the air still. A boy was crying a few feet away.

The body twitched at his feet before falling still. It's still warm blood sank into the earth below Sköll's feet.

"I said drop it!"

The silence cracked as the man drew his weapon. The knife landed with a wet thud into the red below, and a woman from the crowd stepped forward to retrieve the blade. His commander sheathed the gun, and his body seemed to relax slightly.

He didn't realize he was crying until now. Another tear spilled from his eye, collecting at his chin, but he looked lifeless otherwise. His mother was dead. Her body only a few feet away, collapsed over itself in an unnatural way. And at Sköll's feet was the body of the old man. The crying boy rushed towards the elder's corpse, wailing in grief.

It had happened so fast. The old man had sternly refused to give up his belongings. Edda grabbed the young boy who was with the man, a knife held menacingly to his throat. Before she could fully turn to the elder, his gun rang out and her body hit the ground. Sköll had felt his chest swell and he could not remember what happened next. But he could piece it together.

"I'm fine," He assured slowly.

The group slowly broke away, a man taking the child away, and his commander stepped towards him and put a hand upon his shoulder. He did not seem to care when Sköll flinched, but he had never cared before.

"Policy. Even now, boy," He said, looking at the silent nineteen year old. "We'll put her next to Hati," He continued solemnly, "Tonight we will celebrate her life. We'll let you join us." After a moment, he stalked off curtly, and the boy's gaze finally rose to settle upon him, following the back of the man's head. His tongue began to bleed from in between his teeth.

He spent the winding hours of the evening seated on the outskirts of the celebration. He did not interact, nor did he move from the wooden bench until the last of his groupmates passed out. When he finally rose, Sköll freed the boy, scared him off with a threat, entered one of the storage tents, and re-appeared with their two cans of gasoline.

When the fire roared to life, soon did the screams join in. The entire campsite was covered in raging flames, licking the night sky hungrily. Men and women scattered like insects, their bodies flailing as the fire ate through them. Some tumbled to the ground, writhing around before falling still to crackle in the shriveled grass.

Sköll stood at a distance from the scene, and he, too, screamed. He howled. Guttural and emptying, he screamed on and on with his victims; with his abusers. No longer was he under their control. No longer would he be beat into submission. No longer would he be their puppet. No longer would he be told, "go fetch, dog." The leash had snapped. The mutt was free.

Oh, how he howled.

[phantomatics]

tracking >:^)