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theenclave1 · 2 years ago

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Franck Muller Vanguard Master Banker

#franck muller #franckmuller #wrist watch #wristwatch #vanguard #watchland

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viennastudios · 2 years ago

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thequeendomhq · 8 months ago

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NAME. Etienne Ulven AGE & BIRTH DATE. 28 & June 22nd, 2997 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Cismale & He/Him NATIONALITY. Iskaran SPECIES. Werewolf FACTION. N/A OCCUPATION. Woodsman FACE CLAIM. Maxence Danet-Fauvel

biography

( tw: body horror, death, violence )

They keep moving, the morning sun just peeking over the horizon. Iskaldrik’s forests are beautiful, especially now that he thinks he can’t quite get lost in them, not with the direwolf who presented themselves as ‘Goose’, much to his amusement, at his side, not with what he is now.

Months ago, he’d been Etienne Selland, a son, a brother, a simple woodsman who hadn’t ever wanted much. Home had been practically a nice cottage beside the woods, small but suitable for himself and his mother after the death of his father. The three of them had lived there his entire couple of decades of life, his mother the seamstress, his father the woodsman, and him. The trees he traversed through now weren’t the same and yet they still felt like he’d walked them before. It’s the something his father had once described to him while they’d been out behind the house, that the forest spoke to him in a way and Etienne knew now the truth to it.

Einar Selland had been a wolf and he had passed it onto his son.

It must have been easy enough to hide it, after the man had died, Etienne’s mother had explained that before his parents had made home in a sleepy little town, his father had been a mercenary which he supposed explained the man’s quieter, reflective nature. Etienne had thought then that perhaps Einar had been haunted by what his hands had done, now he knew better. Wolves were part of the forest after all, he knew of them, was told to fear those that spent time as a man, what made them that way. He’d been none the wiser that same creature had lived in his own home, within his own body.

Because in order for the gene to fully trigger, a life had to be taken before you or you had to take it yourself.

It’s not something he’s ever done, there was never a reason to before he set out to meet his step-sister. She’d never set foot on Iskaran soil but they were to meet at the water, go forth to Lysara together. A witch, that’s what she was, her and her father, he’d been told before he’d set out and he understood that the family couldn’t stay in Iskaldrik, lest his stepfather and sister wind up dragged off to the mines. It was a trek from the edge of the Lowlands, out of the Watchlands, out of Ulvstad, to the Southlands where he was to meet Eridani to be smuggled to Lysara. But he hadn’t even gotten that far before he’d been overtaken by what he now knew were two wolves.

His axe is still buried in the chest of one of them.

Killing that other wolf had been like cutting a string held taut, something so tightly wound finally being let loose inside him. He and Einar had been woodsmen, they respected the forest and all that inhabited it in order to master it, they knew stories of men who could run with wolves. Not like they’d ever really spoken about it, the two of them hadn’t talked much and yet they’d seemed to respect and understand one another, much like he did the two creatures curled at his sides.

“What do I do now?” He’d spat bitterly, perhaps even rhetorically, at the other man who’d attacked him as they stand mere feet from what is now a corpse. The man seemed almost delighted in a way to tell him he was a wolf, that he’d triggered this thing inside himself. “You did this, you tell me what to do!” It’s a snarl, he still has his knife in hand when he lunges forward and grabs the man by the lapels of his jacket and the answer he receives makes him want to gut him then and there. Because there’s a grin and a shrug, a laugh even as he’s looked upon by amber eyes. “Stay alive.”

That had been easier said than done when Etienne had looked out one morning to see smoke in the distance, coming from the direction of what had once been his father’s home. Runestone Keep, an ever present beacon burning far brighter than it ever had before, too bright to look at. He knew there, away from home, now changed, that not only was going back dangerous, there might not even be a home left to return to. The only way out now was forward and to pray that his mother and stepfather had gotten underground, that Eridani wasn’t coming to meet him.

The first full moon, he was alone and praying that what he knew was simply a myth. But it wasn’t and under the moon’s gaze, bones broke and reformed and cries turned to howls that were heard by the large wolf at his side now. To say it’d hurt had been an understatement and yet he hadn’t been alone, Goose had been there and the direwolf had dutifully sat and had tentatively stuck around as muscles and sinew came together to make him something far greater than himself.

For four days, Etienne hadn’t thought about his family or home or where he was to go from there, he was something wild and free and it’s a feeling not entirely unfamiliar. For underneath everything, he’s still himself just….Wilder. He’d never been an angry child, he’d never harmed anything beyond what he had to. But there is this rage that bubbles up within him, frustration, and perhaps even some arrogance. The forests of Iskaldrik have always been home, a part of him, now they were more intertwined than ever with the guidance of a Goose, with a couple of other wolves that seemed to come and go. A couple stuck around when he awoke a man, days later when it occurred to him that the experience was something he should have had with his father.

It plants this seed inside him, right in the cage of his chest and it blooms from frustration to anger and it proceeds to rot there. It pollutes his otherwise quiet nature, twists in his gut, tightens his chest every day and he doesn’t know where to put it. He doesn’t know where to put it or what to do except to do what he’d been told, stay alive.

personality

+ imaginative, perceptive, intuitive – quiet, sensitive, directionless

played by m. cst. she/they/him.

#the runner #werewolf

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the-mental-vacation · 1 year ago

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CwoC Ep.169: Bat Mitzvahs, Pirates, and Finales

https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-ii6ba-1499171 Kev and Chris come together to discuss another lax week in watchland. Kev makes a reservation but then has a reservation about the reservation (it’ll make sense in the episode) and Chris decides to focus on finishing some TV that concluded this last week while also supporting another Happy Madison production and a live-action adaptation of an…

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rainyfestivalsweets · 2 years ago

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Looking to watch some inspiring TV....

Apparently most of that is Christian based, which is triggering due to religious childhood trauma. 🤔 ugg.

If anyone has anything that isn't, feel free to toss them out there, I might give it a watch. Apparently I landed on some modeling stuff now.