I suppose if you see a lifted 4X4 limousine you could understandably assume it's them. o.o

Ello. ^.^

I ban Reyler for telling others something I told in confidence. o.o

When she is well rested her bonded should step lightly. o.o

Two Rivers, would want to be nineteen or twenty right before the surge of refugees. ^.^

I ban reylar for not having a nutritious soul.

As of June 08th 2013 I am off of active duty, sorry, kinda got distracted by how awesome civilian life is. >.>

Dear god I forgot about this L.O.A. post... Well... Graduated Basic Training, got stationed in Germany, went to Afghanistan, came back to Germany, now just waiting to get out the Army... o.o

Got the news, it'll be sixteen weeks and I'm leaving on Tuesday.

Thanks.

  Come February sixteenth I will be shipping to Basic Training for the U.S. Army, if I manage to pass my P.T. I'm not sure how long the training lasts but I think it's either six or nine weeks.

  Besides that, may be losing my internet before or after the third of February.

  Wish me luck with my training, I'll edit this post when I get a definite number of weeks for Basic.

  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.

  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.

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.

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

  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?"

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.

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.

The moment she had spoken Zippo's eyes snapped back up regaining their intensity. The thought of a cure would of course interest him. The thought of going back to the way things were was very enticing. To no longer smell everything, such as a bakery down the street and the chamberpot next door. The reasons to seek a cure far outnumbered the faded worries about where it came from.

“A cure...” Obviously not a question only a thought spoken. The grin turned to something more a few moments after she mentioned the cure. Instead of simply mad it looked almost hopeful and maybe just a little excited. As fools often will he ignored any sign he might have picked up on that she is lying since she dangled such a hope in front of his nose.

Once he finally picked himself up and even dusted off a bit Zippo looked to her with the somewhat hopeful eyes and stood still. Zippo didn't speak but only stood staring at her as if talking were unnecessary once his mind had been made up. Not asking her to hurry or to get on with it but only staring at her. Of course he could use a bath but the smell didn't bother him in the least and it was the last thing on his mind once the cure was mentioned.

When the words reach him Zippo let out another high pitched chirp of a laugh and pushed up onto his elbows. Zippos’ body shuddered with the silent laughter even when he attempted to get to a more comfortable position. “It’s not catching?” The question is obviously rhetorical as his eyes were down and some of the intensity in them had diminished.

As if the momentary introspection had not happened, his eyes snapped back up and regained their intensity. Most likely the word “home” had pulled him away from his momentarily peaceful thoughts. Once the word was mentioned he scrambled away from her without once picking himself up.
“I can’t go home! Not like this…” The second half of the statement was quiet almost like he was speaking to someone else, or maybe just himself. “I am alone! There’s no one there! No one! There can’t be!”

On a scale of mad ravings this may have been up there with some of the finest but Zippo couldn’t help the thoughts that bypassed his mental censor to immediately be spoken. The images and scents that came to his mind at strange hours, with a strange feel, have him thinking all sorts of nasty things.

Those blue eyes seemed to change as often as his tone, from intense to dull and glazed when he considered his own thoughts and the incomprehensible messages sent to him. For the time being he has forgotten Winifred and her companion. Dull blue eyes looked down to the road and his lips moved silently as if working through some problem in his own mind.

With the branch having shattered against her forearm Zippo was already startled before the wolf leapt from a bush to situate itself between them. Instead of a scream, or even a yelp, Zippo lets out an abrupt and high-pitched laugh as he stumbled and fell on his hind end with a slight bounce. Many would have shown obvious fear of the wolf standing before him but Zippo only shook with silent fits of laughter. His eyes darted between the wolf and the woman as if not sure which was more deserving of silent hilarity.

Zippo spoke in a manner that seemed surprised he was actually responding to the question posed. “Zippo…” Even after offering his name the grin remained but the silent laughter grew a little less noticeable without disappearing entirely.

“I can end the pain, let me end the pain before it passes to others.” With his expression now set with the mad grin and intensely piercing blue eyes Zippo watched her, mad enough he seemed to forget about the wolf, or maybe dismiss it even. Either way the oddest thing may have been that his voice had a feel of pleading to it as if he were begging to be allowed to take her life.

Those often dull eyes gained vivid definition the moment he was addressed. His head turned just enough to see the source. That stare the travelers had found so disconcerting paled in comparison to the one he offered this woman, actually interested in something. Lips parted to show off his pearly yellows in that quite mad grin he studies the woman for a few moments.

Of course the first thing he noticed were her yellow eyes and they affirmed his supposition that the madness was catching. At first he almost believes he was the one to infect this woman; but the amount of yellow surrounding her irises quickly steers him off of that notion. The next thought to run through his fogged mind is the idea of it spreading, of an epidemic running wild through his home.

With an adjusted grip on the branch and his weight shifted back, his arm cocked back, he let all of the stored energy out in one sloppy and unpracticed motion that sent the already cracked branch for the polite woman’s temple, or as near as Zippo could have aimed.

  Zippo couldn’t count how many, or if any, days passed as he walked west and away from Caemlyn. He could only assume that he had at least made it a few leagues by the hole worn in the left heel of his boot. Not of the sturdiest make, they are more suitable for use around the modest manor of his father, instead of the long walk Zippo has found himself on.

  The mad laughter may have been left behind but the left corner of his mouth is pulled up in a fixed smirk. The yellow tinged blue eyes may not be quite as intense as the first day but the few travelers on the road still avoid him. It may be because of the way he carries himself and the determined set to his jaw, looking as if he could walk through a stone wall, but more than likely it is because of his unkempt and rather ruffled appearance.

  Travel stains alone cannot account for the state of his clothing. Even before he left home it was marred with food stains, minor tearing, and a threadbare hem. Now his coat is in a truly desperate state with tears along the sleeves as if he had been running through the countryside. The once white shirt beneath looks as if it may have been originally dyed a brownish-green.

  Dotted randomly through his dark hair are leaves and small twigs that help make him look quite mad without the fixed smirk or the slight yellow tinge to his eyes. The stick he carries won’t help him make friends either, especially the way he holds it, carrying it at his side as if the last thought in his mind is to use it for walking.

  Sleep wasn’t much of an option with the oddly vivid dreams plaguing him and even thought is difficult with strange, foreign, images and smells always invading his mind. Zippo has convinced himself that it is madness and may be catching, has decided it would be safer for him, and anyone he may still care about, to go on the run. To disappear sounded so simple, sounded like it would make things simpler, but obviously he hadn’t taken into account food, shelter, or even a change of clothing with a stout pair of boots.

  Umm, only just now found this thread. * Whistles innocently.* Hey! No one ever accused me of being observant... Anyone, thanks for the welcome, I'll try to get around more often and keep my eyes a little more open.

  Nah, shouldn't be too stereotypical, I was thinking along the lines of a couple of light throwing axes, something like a Tomahawk.

  My heart is very set on the axe, I've been obsessed with 'em for many years. Thanks for the responses and opinions.

P.S.

  How should I go about contacting Ranger Head, or should I at least wait until I get my bio approved and work out an outline for goals in training?