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Post by Rose Rebellion on Oct 15, 2004 16:50:19 GMT -5
(con. from Nursery)
(ooc:Was given permission by LP to do what little I need with Stokely)
Time: Perhaps afternoonish? On the day after Razz's shop burned down.
The gray mare didn't even bother to knock and waltzed right in through the front door. The crumbling, stall smell of the wall plaster welcomed the thief, and Coon momentarily smiled. This smell and sight was defined as "experienced" living space, something that connected mentally to Stokely in generally.
From the time Coon Skin knew Stokely, the living space had been in some disarray. It grew beyond describing it as Coon shacked up with the black mare time to time. Most often, it was a mess due to the times where both were "experimenting" in terms of toys, positions, and rooms.
She stopped, her golden eyes surveying the place. The sounds of subtle snoring told Coon that Stokely was still sleeping. Coon wagered that she was probably up trying to prepare for the comic con at Hibiscus Plateau in two days. Shaking her head, Coon knew in her mind what she had to do. Smack down the law and make sure she avoids any weirdo cloaked stallions or other gods...
Nodding as if to reinforce her actions, the masculine mare maneuvered her way through the mess and to her lover's bedroom. Gently crawling up next to her, she whispered into the other's ear, "Caaaandy....come on love, it's time to join the living."
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Post by Rose Rebellion on Oct 19, 2004 18:56:44 GMT -5
Stokely groaned and cuddled deeper into the mattress, pulling tightly on the thin sheet. Coon could not help but stifle a chuckle. Again, she began to coax her lover to life. "Candy, come on, I really need to talk with you."
This was met with Stokely turning over, fwapping a pillow into her face, a large thwump sound following. Coon's face remained blank as the hoof holding the pillow dropped down, Stokely deep in sleep again. A devilish grin pulled at the corner of Coon's lip. "I tried being nice, but you leave me no choice..."
Dramatic pause.
"TICKLE THERAPY!!!!!!!" She lunged on top of the other, striking at Stokely's belly and holding no remorse. Stokely awoke in a gasp, instantly balling up to try and avoid the attack, however, she could not prevent the laughter, which followed. Not to be one-uped, Stokely retaliated.
The two began to roll about, pushing the other to better suit their own means of tickling, until both wound up rolling off the bed tangled in a mess of sheets.
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Post by Rose Rebellion on Nov 11, 2004 19:10:51 GMT -5
Moments after the war, Coon managed to come on top, triumphant. Or, more so, laying on top of the other in a pinned position, triumphant. Stokely, rather tired and a little annoyed with her lover's suddenly burst of energy upon her, merely blew a flock of red hair from her face. "You spoil the best dreams, you know that, right?," she huffed out in her intoxicating voice.
Coon responded in her usually fashion: a charming, full of herself grin and a risen daring eye brow. "Oh really? And what dream could possibly be better than this stud?," she said, no bars on the gender switched term. Stokely hadn't hesitated in letting out a hoot of what could have been laughter. "Babe, most dreams are better than you.," she teased, straining to nip the other's cheek.
The thief twisted her neck, just moving her face out of the other's reach. "Really? You mean to tell me your dream interpretation of me has one upped me?," she gave her best puppy dog face, needless to say that it wasn't exactly the most effective expression she could form. Stokely began to gently push the other off. "She's past one upping, babe.," the black mare jokingly replied, finally sitting up. The comic artist stifled a yawn while attempting to show interest. "You said you had to speak to me?"
Coon had nearly forgotten. "Ah, yeah," she said, rubbing the back of her head. Now, how was she going to tell her that crazy ponies/gods whom could have all been evil were pooling together in the town, which could strike the other's interest and causing her to jump in the middle because it was "cool"? Simple. Coon wasn't.
"Er, well, ahm...you know that comic con you were planing to go to next week? I, uhm, know you were really hoping to go earlier to site see and crap, but you could afford it.," Coon began, knowing that the later of her explanation would kill her. "I figured that I'd pull some of my stash so you can get out there earlier to do that." Ah, Coon's two loves, cash and Stokely. It was so hard to chose between them.
Stokely had not even questioned the other's stumbling words, but merely flung her forelegs around the other and gave Coon a tantalizing kiss. Inside, Coon was smiling like an idiot.
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Post by Rose Rebellion on Jan 10, 2005 20:19:32 GMT -5
(Holy Carp, haven't written for Coon in ages. Ah, tis hard when LP's not playing Stokely...will have to get her involved)
(jump to later this night, Stokely has packed and left to the airport. Coon is currently house sitting in the beaten up apartment room)
Coon let out a long, loose sigh. Things had gone surprisingly smooth. Stokely had never once questioned her motive as to sending her away earlier than normal. And Coon Skin didn't really want to verbalize that she truly was worried for her significant other's welfare. It just wasn't a very manly thing to admit, and Coon Skin wasn't really all that feminine anyway.
It had been near nine months since she met and began dating the mare, and Coon hadn't felt nearly as close to someone as Stokely since her broken relationship with Fox Trot. Coon realized that her love for Stokely was a different kind than Fox Trot's, that she loved Stokely for different things. It was reassuring to know that she didn't love Stokely like a replacement, because Stokely was far from replacing her past big love interest.
However, one thing still rang true between the two lovers, Coon Skin's concern was the same. She knew Stokely deeply enough that the concept of rogue gods, dark ones at that, was highly tempting. There was something dark in Stokely's nature, and that would attract those dark gods as well.
Coon Skin herself had no interest in the gods, no care to join up with good, middle, or bad ones. Just because she was a thief, didn't mean she was an antagonist of any sort. Coon still tried to follow her family’s code of 'doing no harm'. She never hurt anything willingly, at least not until the battle last summer, and certainly not since. Coon still had nightmares on occasion from brutally ripping Reaper apart, and it truly scared her. It scared her that she'd in fact killed someone, but in such a manner as well. Just imagining something stirring up like it again, and Stokely right in the middle of such blood shed, Coon just had to make sure she was out of dodge.
"Though it doesn’t make it any easier for me...I'm still going to miss her. And I was gonna take her home to Ma, and Sly Eye, Crafty Critter, and Doting Doe. Hell, I’d even love for Silverfish to meet her.," she said softly so herself, not at all sounding like her usual charming self. "If this is going to be anything like last summer..." A memory of the night before at Razz's store flashed in her mind. "Then any of us are likely to get hurt or killed in that mess. Rainbow...I only pray that I can be around long enough to see Candy again."
It wasn't that Coon Skin doubted her ability in being able to fight herself out of a tough situation; she was just looking at the fool picture. It was possible to get herself killed in this mess. Normally she wouldn't want to get involved, save her skin for another day. It was, however, Stokely's home, and Coon was only tied down in Ponyville because of her. So Coon would dutifully protect her lover's home best she could.
"Ulg, too much retrospection. Need a beer....maybe some rum in coke," Coon sluggishly stood from the beaten arm chair, stuffing half falling out of it. It wasn't a broken piece of furniture, it was just experienced, a word Coon could use to describe Stokely's home. Needless to say, Coon wasn't one to complain, she lived in a tent after all. Plus Stokely kept her stoked on various alcoholic beverages, so Coon definitely had no room to complain.
She went to the fridge, got the required ingredients, and mixed the drink to her liking. The masculine mare then returned towards the chair, passing the kitchen window for a moment. Her Coon paused, stepping up and leaning down on the window rim. Her hoof swirled the drink loosely, idly her golden eyes watched the streets. Always searching, always trying to spot the next big job to pull, sporadically they jumped about until her searching was pulled to the farthest end of the street. The nicer living establishments. Stokely resided in the slum part of town, which didn't bug Coon any.
There, off in the nice districts, Coon could make out small figures of ponies; really there was only two individuals out. Silently she sipped the chilled drink, grinning smugly as the familiar feel of alchol burned down her throat. Probably 'couple of love birds. She squinted and looked critically at the pink mare, Petunia. Definitely not my kinda broad.
She chuckled at the comment, suddenly feeling like a mob boss, but her chuckling abruptly halted as she witnessed the onslaught of Yama's surprise attack. Instantly the drink dropped from hoof, mouth a gap, gray face turning paler. Everything went at a sudden standstill, everything paused, and no thoughts passed through the thief's mind as she stared wordlessly as Yama dragged Petunia's and Notepad's bodies into a house.
Finally, her body ordered her to swallow, but she could not take herself away from the window. The masculine mare had her answer. It wasn't like last summer's great battle...it was far worse.
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Post by Rose Rebellion on Jan 20, 2005 22:52:08 GMT -5
(jumping again, next day, the battle is currently going on in the square)
Coon stared out the window blankly. She could easily see the blood shed happening just yards away. It had all been too soon, though what else could Coon Skin possibly expect after witnessing the horribly events the night prior. The gods had pulled their trump, whatever it was, and now things were escalating far too fast.
The only thing that made Coon Skin slightly proud of this was her ability to whisk Stokely from this hellhole in, if you excuse the cheesy phrase, nick of time. Now, the question of today was when Coon Skin was going to fling herself into battle.
Sighing, she checked her equipment. A bottle of Tequila and one of Vodka, and the dagger presented to her by the ghosty. If pushed came to shove, Coon could always break the bottles and use those as a weapon. The alcohol was more so to make sure she was drunk enough to engage in a battle. Distanced the pain, but thinned the blood. Either or, it could fuel her long enough to hopefully make it out alive, or to take one of the b*stards down with her.
"That's it, no more carp footing.," she spat, tipping one of the bottles back and chugging a quarter of the contents. A warm buzz followed directly after. It was time for a war.
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