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kingdomdressing2009-12-27 10:44 pm
curlyredwolf.livejournal.com) wrote in kingdomdressing2009-12-27 10:44 pm
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Mommas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
C'mon darlin', we're almost there.
[is that an Axel? it sounds a little like one, but with a twang in his voice that sounds as warm and smooth as it does completely out of place. there's also the tell-tale clop-clop-clop of hooves.
a door in one of the many hallways is shoved open and a tall, lanky man in blue denim, heavy leather chaps, a beaten leather jacket over a plaid flannel button-down, and a dark brown ten-gallon hat shoved down on his messy red hair. the brim is so low that he can't see too much when he enters the hallway and he's a little busy knocking the piles of snow and ice off his shoulders, hat, and horse.
yes. his horse. he turns back around, tipping his hat back while he wipes the snow off its back, and the saddle and pack that's strapped to it.]
See there, Caroline? All your fussin' was for nothin'. We made it just fine and now we can tuck in for some good...
[he trails off right there, because he just got a look at his surroundings]
What in the hell...?
This one of those practical jokes? Don't look practical to me...
[ooc: ....uh, yeah. I don't really have a good excuse for this! But have a COWBOY AXEL. He hails from the American Southwest, circa December 31st, 1870, and will act accordingly.]
[is that an Axel? it sounds a little like one, but with a twang in his voice that sounds as warm and smooth as it does completely out of place. there's also the tell-tale clop-clop-clop of hooves.
a door in one of the many hallways is shoved open and a tall, lanky man in blue denim, heavy leather chaps, a beaten leather jacket over a plaid flannel button-down, and a dark brown ten-gallon hat shoved down on his messy red hair. the brim is so low that he can't see too much when he enters the hallway and he's a little busy knocking the piles of snow and ice off his shoulders, hat, and horse.
yes. his horse. he turns back around, tipping his hat back while he wipes the snow off its back, and the saddle and pack that's strapped to it.]
See there, Caroline? All your fussin' was for nothin'. We made it just fine and now we can tuck in for some good...
[he trails off right there, because he just got a look at his surroundings]
What in the hell...?
This one of those practical jokes? Don't look practical to me...
[ooc: ....uh, yeah. I don't really have a good excuse for this! But have a COWBOY AXEL. He hails from the American Southwest, circa December 31st, 1870, and will act accordingly.]
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what.
he thinks he's done gone crazy, but the horse...oh, the horse is very interested. she's tugging on the reins, very curious as to what this new thing is. she may or may not be trying to get her lips around the tip of one ear]
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[he jerks away automatically, ears pinning back as he shoots a look at the horse, totally ignoring Axel for the moment.]
Those aren't food.
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Axel's stare has moved from ears to tail, in the meantime]
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[he can't smooth his hair back down with his hands full of box, so he's trying to step away farther.]
Little help?
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You...you're not one of them...spirits, are ya? [like his mother was always telling him about]
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Spirits?
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[he shifts the box, attempting to rest it against his hip for a moment so he can check on his hair.]
But no, I'm human.
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[his ear twitches and his expression is just faintly annoyed.]
I'm going to go ahead and guess that you don't have magic in your world.
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Nope, not unless you count dime-a-dozen fakers that just cheat at cards.
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[he... doesn't want to spook the horse, so he's not going to summon his weapon or anything.]
Well, magic is real and this place is full of it. The ears and tail are from a spell.
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Like, a curse or somethin'?
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Is your curse gonna last forever?
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Most magic tends to wear off eventually, unless the caster is particularly powerful. Mine might last forever, yeah, because I can't exactly escape the caster here- this place itself likes to mess with magic every so often.