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 Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2011 8:05 pm
Hearing howls, yowls, caws, and crashes were not exactly foreign in the monster dorms. When you had a closet on every floor to replace furniture, you tended to get used to the sound of breaking wood, metal, and glass. The place could be generally rowdy at all hours. Yet, to anyone who knew the pretty-pony-resident of the particular room in the basement level of the monster dorms, they would know it wasn't a typical noise. The sound of wood crashed as shelves were tossed down from their place. Paper tore. The ground shook as more heavy furniture was rearranged without care and with great force, and all through the commotion, a slew of foreign words, screams, and equine shouts were cried out without any regard to the neighbors.
Anyone with a lick of sense would know these were the noises to warn you to turn back now and leave whatever it was that needed addressing at a later date.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 4:41 pm
It had been a while since he had paid his friend a visit, and the more he had discussed with Barth, the more concerned he had gotten. The noise he heard echoing down the hall of the Monster Dorms sent off alarm bells, and the hunchback threw himself into a limping run. Was... was something wrong? Had one of those Hunters snuck in and...? With a whine, he threw himself at Calder's door before practically wrenching it from it's hinges.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 5:51 pm
There was no hunters to be seen, but there was destruction. The resident kelpie was standing in the middle of what was once a very organized yet mossy room. Several shelves had been tossed over, their books spilling and getting wet, and baskets were overturned. Having not cared about locking the door, Calder in no way thought that even if he hadn't, that anyone would bother him. Rather single minded at the moment, it wasn't a concern.
Panting hard, the kelpie's hair was undone, spilling about his form, and his jacket has been ripped off and tossed among the growing messing. Moving over a fallen shelf, he reached down and grabbed a large chest, to which he heaved and threw across the room at the far off all. "FA NIH HEEEE!!" He cried, and watched it hit the wall, open, and spill clothes on the ground and into his tub bed.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 7:25 pm
Christof ducked as the chest went flying, darting back behind the door once more for safety. Heart beating in his chest, he gave a weak, "... Hmmm?" Hoping the Kelpie would even hear him over the din. What... in Halloween was going on here? He had never seen Calder so worked up. He had just seen Barth recently, so it couldn't be a repeat of the Field Trip...
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 7:36 pm
It was just another thing to bother the kelpie in that he didn't have more breakable things. Around monsters, having fragile china black cats or delicate dinnerware wasn't really a wise idea. Instead, Calder was left making due with whatever he could get his hands on. Reaching out, he managed to rip several baskets off their hooks, tearing them in the process and threw them in the direct of the door, which hit the wall instead but threw a mess of various plants and herbs exploding like organic confetti.
When the kelpie saw the Igor, he felt more annoyed by someone actually showing up. He shouted a slew of words at the kepie in a dialect that one could only attribute to Calder's native tongue. A mix of some Scottish, Equine, Grunting garble that rolled and neighed in a way that made you wonder if your ears weren't defective.
Knowing the Igor would just stand there, Calder whipped back around and full on shouted at him across the room. "WHAT?!" He called back, in a way that DARED the Igor to answer.
Turning back, Calder went back to reaching down and tossing things about in order to find something more breakable. What he happened upon was the chairs he took from the monster supply closet in order for him and Malodore to have more civil talks. Taking one, the kelpie started to slam in against the floor. A Halloween pro wrestler without an opponent.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 8:21 pm
Christof gave a fresh whine as he limped forward, frantically trying to take the poor, abused inanimate object from the Kelpie's hands- how could he even try to 'talk' about it if Calder was too busy wrecking the place to watch his hands? Just... calm down... he wasn't sure a few head-pats would fix it this time... Just.. a very wild, angry spooked horse. Part of him was glad he hadn't walked into the boil sobbing... but this was a side to his friend he had never seen. Something really bad must have happened...
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 8:36 pm
Christof was walking in the line of fire, and taking the chair he was venting with was not a wise choice. He wanted to break this chair. At the current moment, it was his singular focus, and taking that upset him even more. The smallest of actions ticked him off, and it just happened that his friend was doing just that. Acting.
When the chair was grabbed, Calder tried to free it, and he felt the tug on the other end. He was NOT in the mood to fight over HIS OWN THINGS! They weren't Christof's! They weren't no ones. He could do with them what he liked. HE had that freedom! HIM! NO ONE ELSE! Out of everything else in his life, his room was at least one thing in his life he could do with as he pleased.
Rushing forward, a pair of hands were grabbing the hunchback's collar, and with momentum and the strength of the kelpie's legs, he was shoved back to the nearest wall. Eyes narrowed, gleaming black. "WHAT do you think you are doing?" He moved in closer, clenching his fingers more tightly around the ragged shirt the Igor wore. "Do YOU want to be that chair, Lumpy?!" A white smoke was wafting around the corners of the boil's eyes.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 9:27 pm
Christof gaped with a strangled noise in his throat as he was grabbed, his hands weakly rising to his chest to sign, "Seeing-you-were-ok?" The corners of his mouth twitched up into a weak, hopeful smile.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 10:12 pm
His eyes narrowed at the smile, wafting more of the peculiar white smog as the kelpie held him in place. "Why? Don't think I can handle myself? Just say it!" He rose up the collar a bit higher, and moved closer still. His own friend didn't think he could handle himself. Probably finally reflecting back and saw how much of a mess me made things. In no way had he been like Christof or Herryk, as strong as they appeared. He was strong.
And that smile. Was he laughing at him?
"You think it's funny?! You get too cocky hitting me. I could tear you limb from limb. You won't be smiling then?" He leaned in a bit more. "And the thing with the undead is that no one would notice the smell if you rotted here." Christof thought that just because he could push him around, and punch him, and call him stupid, that he couldn't hold his own. No one thought he could. He hated that. He HATED that!
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 10:39 pm
Christof's brow furrowed, his face paling as he waved his hands in a frantic 'No-no!' gesture. What... what had gotten INTO him? Maybe he should call Master Barth- but no, he had calmed Calder down when they were surrounded by wolves- (friendly wolves, but that was beside the point)- he could do so now. Gingerly, gently, uneasily, he reached forward in a desperate attempt to pat Calder's head. It was awkward when he was humanoid, but.... a horse was a horse was a horse....
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 10:58 pm
Calder kept the same expression as a hand went up, sat upon his head, and patted him. Without any visible ease or pleasure in the action, it was just a wee bit awkward.
Calder, however, did drop the boil and turned, tail flicking as he went to grab his chair again. He went back to mumbling under his breathe, grabbing the back of the chair and slamming in over and over on the ground, breaking the legs one by one.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 11:04 pm
Christof relaxed ever so slightly as Calder stormed away to take his agression out on the chair.
Ooookaaay... right. Right. Soothing a friend. It was what friends do. He had been calmed himself many times by his friends and now it was time to repay the favor.
But how on earth did you do it? He swallowed, creeping after the Kelpie to gingerly pat his shoulder before wincing back. But... if he wasn't looking how could he even try to ask? Before a punch could be thrown, he signed quickly, "Want-to-talk-about-it?" Whatever *it* was.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 11:20 pm
Calder's shoulders hunched at the pat to his back, and looked over his shoulder to read the sighing. He didn't respond, going back to breaking the legs off his chair. He was still tense, and he didn't feel exhausted enough to stop. "No point. Nothing can be fixed." He threw the chair down again, and didn't hear the satisfying snap of wood. Turning it about, he noticed all the legs were broken. With that, he tossed it for the nearest wall and went to find the other chair, passing the Igor.
"Patchworks are made. You probably wouldn't understand." Not with the value of clans, family, the responsibility and demands of a group to be in a harem, and disliking a guardian of sorts who dictated how you should act or behave and place demands upon you as if you were some little kid.
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Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 11:52 pm
"Still-want-to-help," He signed feebly, following after his friend anxiously. Well, he was running out of things to break. That was a good sign, right? Right. Just sit down and be a good listener and hopefully things will all be fixed again. Manner of creation didn't change his having concern for a cohort.
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Posted: Sun Nov 13, 2011 10:15 am
Calder paused a moment, thinking about it. Talking? Did he REALLY want to talk about this? Considering that he had told no one about is life back at home, not to mention the only person who knew about Murchadh was Barth, and that was purely by accident, it would be ..
"It's complicated." He should have mentioned it to the Igor, being a friend and one that had saved him during the field trip, but considering the boil had troubled with his own relationships, barely knew to handle things on a bigger emotional level, not to mention never had a family, a clan, and was a creature that was made and therefor didn't understand the obligations to continue a clan's race in very traditional fashion, he felt it was out of his understanding.
Maybe it was just another stupid decision he made by not telling him. He didn't know. He knew so little now.
Turning, he went to the one shelf that was still standing. If Chrsitof's theory that running out of things was a good thing, they'd soon find out.
Stepping over the other fallen furniture and personal belongings, Calder reached up and grabbed the side of the shelf, and pushing, sent it toppling over.
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