A friend of a friend // The Woods (RP)

gummi and tanis from this rp 

i actually started this before my pc got replaced, and as i tried to continue it on the mac, the pen size pressure wouldn't work, so it took a while before it started working and i forgot all about this piece. thankfully, i came across it again a few days ago and i cleaned it up and finished the background! i really like what i did with the colors.

so far, i replied to:

tanistheflame

themindseyetrolls

askfem-mike

motorcitythumper

cadet-jenzen

midnightcafemikechilton

alejandro8989 (?)

slimeyectobiologist (?)

puffwithfeet (?)

i'm waiting a reply to these starters:

thelordvanquisher (although they might be on hiatus? not sure??)

capristthuns

i have yet to reply to:

so far, i replied to:

midnightcafemikechilton

motorcitythumper

tanistheflame

cadet-jenzen

themindseyetrolls

alejandro8989

slimeyectobiologist

puffwithfeet

i'm waiting a reply to this starter:

thelordvanquisher (although they might be on hiatus? not sure??)

i have yet to reply to:

Bored.

That was basically what was happening here. Business was rolling on smoothly. There was no interruptions or snags that they had run into. Just one trade after the other that came out favorably for the Ruler of Detroit. No strange attacks by rabid bats, no shady deals with the other less unsavory inhabitants of Detroit, no interruptions from annoying teenagers, no aliens jumping through platforms on the ground. Simply no fun at all.

Thus the Duke of Detroit was just sitting on his throne, one leg thrown up over the armrest and the other furiously tapping against the floor. He was resting his head in his hand and staring at the long red carpet down on the floor. Some guards were lined up along the cars and #2 was standing at attention right below the small staircase. Duke looked over each of the men in the room. They were all standing perfectly still and none of them had missed any detail in their uniforms. There was nothing to comment on or complain about.

The wounds still leaked, they always leaked. Violet stains the water, swirling in the murky waters and becoming diluted and distorted as they faded entirely to the muck under the surface. It was not often that Talbot sat upon the shore and just watched his surroundings, fins twitching lightly in order to hone in on the noises that occurred around his lake. Currently the Troll was scowling, staring at the night sky with a soft huff.

The occasional rustle of grass does not disturb him. It's nothing more than some beast. Hardly anything to get himself worked over. Since the loss of his matesprit- the very thought causes his lips to curl up in a snarl- the sea dweller had chased anyone who approached away. Who needed them? Certainly not him. He'd had enough wounds to deal with, he didn't need another one.

"Leave her alone!" he'd warned her about staying outside too long when she visited. There were bad people in Motorcity just like there were good people. He knew that better than anyone. The worry only started when Tanis didn't show upon time, worrying the little Troll enough to go looking for her, hoping that nothing bad had happened.

Unfortunately that hope was a futile one. Some of the bad people found her. They hadn't hurt her but were just heckling her. Having had paint thrown on him twice before, Darius snarled angrily at the sight and immediately rushed over, putting himself between Tanis and the two men heckling her. This probably would have just led to both of them getting hurt... if not for the Burner symbol emblazoned on his shirt.

That seemed to be enough to deter the bullies. They scoffed and left, not willing to bother with the situation anymore. Darius sighs, rather surprised that it had worked, and turned. Tears. She was crying. Aww no... no no. Not that.