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About ZippoSeiCair

  • Birthday 03/24/1986

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  • Interests
    Hatchets and wolves and such.
  1. Two Rivers, would want to be nineteen or twenty right before the surge of refugees. ^.^
  2. Spreading my zombie infection and ruling DM. o.o

  3. Wandering aimlessly on Dragonmount searching for entertainment...

  4. Well, decided to start a blog. Don't know how often I'll post things, I tend to be a little unreliable. Anyway, as some know I'm separating from the Army here soon, both happy and nervous about it. Got big plans, taking a short bus over two thousand miles to a music festival in Illinois in August, looking into buying a bar in my hometown. Unfortunately I have concerns about separating from the Army. The Army provides me with steady income and decent housing. It offers stability in my life. Unfortunately I hate the Army, too many douchebags with too much power and say over my life. they can ruin any prospective jobs outside the Army should I do something they see as unprofessional. I don't believe anyone should have that much control over another humans life.I spend every day worried I'm going to get paperwork done on me for forgetting to get a haircut. One guy got a company grade article 15(Basically means extra duty for seven darks and a black mark on his record) because his suite mate, someone not even in our Company, carded the room door while he was away at work. On May thirteenth I start my Terminal Leave and will be out of the Army proper on June eighth, but they will still have five years to be able to call me back into the Active Army, until that time is up they will be within their rights to subject me to random urinalysis and PT tests, I'm sure if I fail either they will do paperwork and make my life hell. Fortunately I've never heard of anyone having to go through those once the active portion of their contract has expired. Going home to Clearlake via the Sacramento international airport, I can't wait to be stateside again.
  5. Beer, wolves, and foreign people?

  6. The first part of the speech did a decent job of dampening his eagerness but helped the look of desperation grow. So close, he got here, he would quickly jump at the opportunity of beginning the process... That speech though... Some part of it made it past the layers of psychosis that grew from the moment symptoms had begun appearing. Nodding Zippo seemed to have accepted her analogy for his circumstances. Many things could go wrong in healing if things were rushed and Zippo understood this as he thought about it. Looking up from the floor, the grin still plastered on his lips, the eagerness had returned to his expression. This epiphany didn't keep the madman down for very long. "So we will begin tomorrow, early?" It was the eagerness that ruled his expression when he looked at her. That eagerness had him nearly bouncing in his seat as his eyes locked onto hers, burning with that familiar intensity. "I can wake up early, I can." The words may not have been a lie but Zippo never had been up before the dawn, the hours of a merchants son were much different than that of a farmers son.
  7. When she took his hands Zippo immediately flinched and began to pull away, a small twitch forming at the corner of his right eye. When in his fathers household Zippo had not been very used to physical contact. The father he had grown up with was a very distant man and disdained public shows of affection, considered them signs of weakness a successful merchant could not afford to display. The moment she began to speak though all apprehension disappeared and Zippo forgot all his bad memories, focused on the words, leaning forward intently. It would be a surprise to any onlookers if she didn't flinch away from the grease and grime that had built up on his hands during the trip. After the first few words Zippo could only nod, but with the last his apprehension had returned. The thought of a bath and rest was only mildly appealing to the slightly insane man that sat in front of her. "We can't begin immediately? I'm ready! I am, really." The expression he wore could only have been described as eager and desperate, his eyes burned, that emotion had shone through the moment he had realized the work wouldn't begin immediately. It truly was a pitiful sight, even the mad grin had detracted little from the image.
  8. Normally the break for private conversation would have raised an eyebrow, and left him wondering what was said beyond his hearing. Instead, half mad and half hopeful, Zippo only watched their return with a tentative hopeful expression, the grin remaining. It didn't fade, that grin, when Aislyn explained the cure is a process, not instantaneous, but he did laugh, a high pitched short lived thing, more like a chirp than anything. Of course... It wouldn't be that simple would it? After so much work just to get where he was it would only be logical that it wasn't much more than the first step. At first his expression turned a little dark, then resigned, then returned to hopeful, all of this happened so quickly some would be amazed. Then again some would find his expressions difficult to read with the ever-present grin. Wiping his hands on an already stained and worn pair of trousers he leans forward, intent on Aislyn. “But, it can be done, can't it? I'll be whole again?” Some would argue that being aware of ones own insanity means that person isn't truly insane, but the wide grin, changing sometimes but always present, coupled with his near burning intense eyes would dissuade any thoughts of the like. Zippo remained perfectly still as if frozen, he only watched her, and waited eagerly for an answer he already had.
  9. Pick Up - One part mad, three parts fool - [6 posts] - (Complete) Arrival & Sage Check Up - Zippo is in the house - [2 posts] - (In Progress) Dream Lessons 1 & 2 - - [ - posts] Basic Senses Lesson - - [ - posts] Basic Weapon Training - - [ - posts] Other RP - - [ - posts
  10. Surprisingly enough Zippo was silent when he met another with yellow eyes, only watched her suspiciously for a moment before his nostrils flared and he picked up the scent of food beyond the door. He steps in barely waiting for the invitation, his stomach growling. Along with bathing Zippo had skimped on a meal or two, so eager was he to find this cure, but since arriving at the destination it all came rushing back to him. First the hunger made itself known, then even he wrinkled his nose with the smell radiating off of him. Zippo barely heard the introduction for the distraction of food and as soon as it was offered he hungrily dug in. Between shoveling food into his mouth, and failing to use any utensils he wasn't born with, Zippo speaks, giving up a quick introduction and some more. "I'm... Zippo... Not... Here... Long... Cure... Then... Home.." The only real time he took away from gorging himself on food was to tilt his head back and laugh in that mad sort of way, his eyes wide with anticipation. The grin on his lips only seemed to grow with every passing minute. By the time he finished there weren't many leftovers and he was wiping the plate clean with his fingers. Almost regretting having finished so quickly he looks to see if there is anything left. Quickly noticing the bread he takes it, tossing it between his hands and taking large bites out of it despite the fact it is very hot. Zippo looks to Aislyn with his wicked smile and feverishly bright eyes only to stare, waiting, expecting to be offered the cure. As it was not offered up immediately he grew impatient, and began grinding his teeth quietly. "So... Where is it?"
  11. For the past few miles his boots began coming off of his feet a piece at a time and even his ever present grin had begun to fade. Though he had often been the advocate for haste his feet were dragging and his head hung a little lower than usual. Fighting those images and scents has taken its toll on Zippo, but buried inside his need for a cure only grew and festered. The subtle changes in his guide as they came closer to the Stedding at first had escaped Zippo. The signs grew, if only in their subtle ways, and Zippo began to realize something was different on this last day. In spite of his crumbling boots Zippo's back had grown a little straighter, his grin a little larger, and his eyes once again grew with that fervent light Winifred had witnessed when they first met. If it weren't for his poor sore feet Zippo may have skipped the last mile or so to the Stedding but still his feet dragged if only a little less than usual but the changes in his demeanor had been growing more noticeable since he woke up to start another day of walking. Hands that had hung limp at his sides had been clenching in to fists and relaxing again all day and low chuckles escaped him on a regular basis. The clothes Winifred had found him in were only the worse for wear and he refused to bathe in hopes to make better time towards the cure that would set him right again. Thoughts of returning home and following in his fathers footsteps actually sounded exciting after his recent foray into the world. With a suddenly loud, and high pitched, laugh Zippo imagined what it would be like to finally make his father proud. All he had to do was follow this woman to the cure, get clean, and return home as sane as he was before this mess took him over.
  12. Without delaying long after her words he offered a nod then only stared at her waiting for her to start off. Neither the folk that passed by or anything besides Winifred mattered to him now. All the strange images, the scents that had been coming to him may finally stop with this cure. The grin remained on his face and he had even began to fiddle with his thumbs a little. The inability to sit still only added to his overall look of madness. Folk that passed by looked at him less and less. Their inclination to avoid acknowledging his existence only grew more apparent as the seconds passed and his impatience grew. Hands balled in to fists and relaxed in a slow and smooth rhythm that he seemed unaware of. “The Images, they'll go away? And the smells?” The grin could not grow any larger but if it could it may well have been from ear to ear. “I'll go with you, of course I will, just, how much will you charge me? I don't have much... I can work! I can.” Quickly he hid his hands so the lack of callouses wouldn't be readily apparent. Such a sheltered life would seem him awkward in any form of manual labor but his eagerness for the fictional cure would seem him mucking out horse stalls and cleaning chamberpots by hand should he have too.
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