it’s not the destination so much as the journey " />
The Lost Islands
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Your King
Asmodeus
Your Queen
Nyimara
The Second
None
The Herd
Name, Name, Name
The Sub-Herd
Name, Name, Name
Allies
Name (Land)
Enemies
Solomon (Cove)
The Rules
  • There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue.
  • We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc.
  • The King and Queen have final say in all matters.
it’s not the destination so much as the journey
Posted on March 16, 2012 at 05:49:28 AM by DEBONAIRE



The only rules that really matter are these:
what a man can do and what a man can’t do.


He would have preferred being clapped in irons to being bound by a sense of responsibility.

An audible groan was released as the island of Salem bobbed into view, and Debonaire struggled against his compulsion to turn around and swim back to Atlantis. As unpleasant as the task before him may seem, that only deemed it more necessary - for he had left abruptly, due to his agitation at the time, without settling matters in the tangled web between Razvan, Encantador, and himself. And, loath though he was to admit it, the reason for his hurried departure had been none other than Sahara herself, whose complete misunderstanding of his intentions had led her on a tirade against him.

It was time to clear that negative air - to make his intentions of that day known.

At the time, of course, Debonaire had not even understood himself why he had intervened. It had been an impulse, a stupid moment of - well, pity. As one who treasured his freedom above anything else this world offered, the tawny gent had been moved by the situation of the Quarry in a way that he had never known before - to do the right thing. A shudder that has nothing to do with the temperature of the water - which was actually pleasantly warm - courses through his being. It would take the entirety of his willpower to make such an admission. His reputation was going to be irrevocably destroyed.

The surf tugged backwards at him as he scrambled onto the sandy beach, seeming to express the same yearning that he did - to return to it, to return home. It seemed an eternity since he had seen the lush greens of Atlantis, with the fine sands warm under his hooves. Debonaire spat out a mouthful of grit with a grimace - here in the Desert, the earth was ever shifting to the whims of the wind.

Finally, the tension within has built to a breaking point - unable to bear the wait any longer and desiring nothing more than to hurry and escape the barrage of negative emotions he is certain will be directed his way, Debonaire releases a bellowing call that echoes across the barren landscape, seeking the company of Encantador, Razvan, and whoever else saw fit to come.

As he waited, a thin coating of dust beginning to cling to his ochre hide, Debonaire considered Razvan's debt - and a means of forever erasing it so he could get back to his carefree existence in paradise.


Debonaire
gentleman || 7 years || buckskin || arabian mix || 15.2 hands
|| voiced by Reba ||



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