Time passes much more quickly in Rohandor and many long and happy years have gone by since the characters retired to enjoy their respective 'happily ever afters,' their greatest foes were imprisoned in the Forever Stone, bound in an eternal sleep. Until Now.
Happily Ever Afters takes place in Rohandor, a mystical realm on another plane of existence from our own. Here our favorite Disney heroes and villains live in a world all their own; Alive, but far from well. Heroes and heroines fight to keep peace while newly freed villains seek their revenge. Come join us in an epic adventure as the characters you love clash in a struggle that will determine the fate of Rohandor!
HEA is an AU canon-only animated crossover Disney Play-By-Post Role Play with minimal word count.
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4/24/21: We've been on hiatus for a number of years now. I don't know that I'm entirely ready to return BUT I have been cleaning up the site and working to update everything since a number of movies have released. There is still A LOT of work to do but if you see this update and were an active member of the site prior to the hiatus, please send the Yen Sid account a DM to let me know you're still interested in playing and if you wish to retain your current roster. I hope you've all been doing well and staying safe!
Happily Ever Afters is a play-by-post forum role playing game based on the movies and television series of Disney and Pixar. It was created for recreational and entertainment purposes only and not intended to step on any toes, offend, or infringe. We did not create nor do we own the content from the Disney and Pixar stories and movies. None of the threads and writing on this forum is associated or affiliated with Disney/Pixar in any way. We do not make any money off of this site or its content. The icons used in the Forum Information & Statistics and those like it throughout the board as well as the BBC buttons and smileys were taken from a layout called Absolute Madness made by PookyTart from Userbar Depot. All of the other graphics used on this board were found, created, or otherwise edited by Yen Sid or Te Fiti. Please don't steal or use any graphic from this board without explicit permission. All storylines and plots used in the threads/topics were created by the staff and members of HEA and should not be copied or used on another board without permission.
Chief Powhatan had forbid it. She left before dawn.
The captain of the boat had raised his brow at the request. He took her anyway. He advised against it during the entirety of the voyage. She stood fast with her decision. He asked her not to, finally, when they reached the Isle. She disembarked.
The men at the Trading Post insisted that she not go in alone. She had no choice. They insisted that she wait for a guide. She had no time.
Here Pocahontas was. Walking warily through the dense undergrowth of the Isle of the Jungle. Every time a brightly-colored serpent slithered in ropes down a branch near at hand, or a strange animal call stirred the exotic birds in the trees, Pocahontas thought back. Back to the verdict that Kekata, the tribe's shaman had said. What Grandmother Willow had then affirmed. That kept her going. To be honest, the ambassador was not as put off by the visit itself as most would believe.
The reason for the trip was permeating every thought that Pocahontas had, however. She couldn't properly enjoy what she otherwise would because of it.
The Powhatan tribe was experiencing a plague. A strange sickness that had never been seen before. Kekata's divining brought up a possible cure. Grandmother Willow named it, and gave it a location within Rohandor. She also described it as the only cure. A herb in the Isle of the Jungle. And if Pocahontas couldn't find it in time, her entire tribe would be... Pocahontas shook her head, ridding it of those thoughts.
She clung to the spirits, letting them guide her. Taking solace in their companionship. Pocahontas had left Meeko and Flit on the ship (though it had taken a clever trick for the humming bird's part). Pocahontas felt the curtail of living wind that marked the spirits swirl past her. Multicolored leaves spun up suddenly from the forest floor and into the labyrinthine canopy. Pocahontas' eyes narrowed as she looked at the maze of woven branches. An idea piqued in the ambassador. She eyed the nearest branch and leaped onto it. Then the next, and the next.
Soon Pocahontas was following the call of the spirits leaping between branches and running along arms of the trees that few would dare balance on, let alone sprint atop. What she could not hope to foresee was that the spirits were not, in fact, bringing her to the herb. Not anything at all, really. Rather, someone.
The ships always got everyones attention. Tarzan crouched on the clifftop, watching over the jungle towards the sea. The animals had been moving further inland all morning, having sensed it a lot earlier. Ships could mean just about anything. The first one he'd seen had brought both good and bad to the jungle. The huntman Clayton was the bad, who intended to strip the jungle for profit, taking Kerchak just as he accepted Tarzan as a son. The good was meeting Jane and the Professor, who brought things into his life that he never quite had, love and the companionship of people like him. The next ship had brought the trading post, which took some time to settle into the area despite the benefits it brought. After that was the regular supply boats from up the coast that restocked things and brought the occasional visitor from the other isles, like the King Edward or the detective Jane had told him about.
Deciding it was better to investigate sooner and be prepared for any events Tarzan dropped from his perch, grabbing a vine as he passed and crossing the jungle by way of the treetops. As he changed vines he noticed the wind picking up, shivering slighlty. It wasn't common in the usually warm jungle. Hopefully not a bad sign.
As he landed on the next long branch and began sliding towards the next jumping point, Tarzan caught sight of a figure running the opposite direction on a parallel route. A female, not Jane, long black hair and a determined expression on her face. She used the trees to get around, but in a different manner. She ran towards each jump with a purpose, focusing on each destination in turn like one of the jungle inhabitants. Not like Tarzan who used a more impulsive manner, sliding and swinging without a care of where the next safe landing was, flowing around like water. The jungle protector turned as they passed each other on their seperate routes, a confused expression on his face. He managed to get out a question before she got too far away.
"Who are you?"
ooc: Sorry, was trying to contrast how Poca runs through the trees compared to Tarzan vine swinging and sliding. It's not coming out well.
This method of transportation was largely new to her. She had become a master of flying the pines, oaks and other native trees that grew within Jamesville. They were a far cry from this... This place. The trees in Pocahontas' homeland were climbable for fun, sport, or business - to obtain a better view of the surrounding area or retrieve bounty, as two examples. Using them as methods of travel wasn't a feasible option, really. Truly when compared to the waterways which ran like veins of the earth throughout the land, accessible by canoe.
The jungle was a different story. Water, from what Pocahontas could gather, was dangerous in these parts if not completely out of reach beneath, having cleaved deep in jagged rocks or becoming entirely overgrown with plants. The forest floor was... Tedious. The sudden, intense changes in steepness, the undergrowth that blocked your path at every turn and so on. Now that the spirits had guided Pocahontas into the bows of the Isle of the Jungle, her perceptions had been altered. This was, really, the only efficient way.
The branches were never-ending, or seemed to be. They stretched up and down and in every direction, clinging together and weaving through the air. All parts of one, greater being. Pocahontas was actually beginning to get the hang of moving in this manner. Her motions were agile and balletic, sprinting rather than sliding on branches and soaring between trees rather than swinging. Pocahontas launched from one perch, her hands reached out and grabbed an overhead branch to swing on. The ambassador let go, flowed in a flip (legs straight, arms out) and landed in a lithe crouch on another branch.
That was the precise moment that a blur of beige and brown passed her by. Pocahontas almost missed it, seeing the phenomenon at the edge of her vision as she turned her head up after the crouch. She may have dismissed it entirely, only a number of words came along with it. Pocahontas' eyes flared wide, she pivoted where she was, but remained in her crouch, and her gaze locked on the source of the question. A man with tanned skin and athletic build wearing a loincloth, much like the children, and a number of the men of the Powhatan.
Pocahontas saw that he clung to a vine and was using it to swing over perilous drops, much more speedily than she had been moving. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and she smiled in careful amusement. That... Well, it looked like a great deal of fun. Pocahontas slowly straightened into a standing position as the man slowed his momentum to return nearer to her. She had learned much since meeting John Smith. Acting first as liaison between the Powhatan and the settlers, then as Jamesville's ambassador to Rohandor, she knew that introductions made things easier than fleeing.
For a moment, Pocahontas entertained the idea of running. This was a stranger, after all. Then she felt a stirring in her chest, and noted the spiral of leaves she'd been following were swirling around the man. His appearance was not circumstantial. There was a reason for it. Then he was within earshot.
"I," she said deliberately, pressing one palm to her breast, "am Pocahontas."
She was slowing down. She must want to talk. Tarzan gripped a vine and let his momentum carry him into a swing, but rather than let go he just held on until he reached the height limit and started swinging back the other way. This put him on a good course to meet the newcomer halfway. He tucked into a roll as he landed before standing straight on the branch next to her. Looking up he looked over various features, like the blue necklace and the painted on red pattern around her upper arm. That strange wind picked up again, causing him to shudder once more. Maybe he should reconsider next time Jane wanted him to try on something at the trading post instead of making up an excuse about going out on patrol, if it was going to get colder around the jungle a shirt would probably help.
"Hello Pocahontas." Tarzan repeated her hand gesture, trying to be polite. "I am Tarzan."
There was something familiar about her, the clothing and the strength she displayed in her eyes. That was it, a while back when he and Jane had met the young girl running from the pirates. It had taken some time to communicate properly with her. Thankfully Pocahontas seemed to speak the same language. Were they related? Was she running from pirates as well? Did that explain the ship? So far it didn't bode well. The pirates chasing Tiger were ruthless, firing guns with no concern for even aiming, risking hurting a lot more of the jungle residents than just their target. Tarzan turned with an angry expression towards the coast. It wasn't going to happen, not again.
"Do you need help? Is that ship after you?"
Mentally he was preparing his plan of attack. Grab his knife and spear, find any who made it to shore and drive them back where they came from. He clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened at the thought of people coming to the jungle to cause more pain.
Pocahontas heard the name, and pieces of talk, rumor and hearsay that she'd heard over her time in Rohandor were knit together partially at it. She remembered talk of the sailors on her way here, or when she'd passed the Isle of the Jungle before. Of a hero of the jungle, who used it as a protectorate. "The Ape Man," some called him. Could this be that same person? Pocahontas' thoughts were directed back to the problem at hand. The object of her search.
Overcome by stomach-clawing nervousness, Pocahontas looked away, deeper into the jungle just when Tarzan was looking with cold fury toward the coast. His question came very close after introducing himself, and Pocahontas looked back to him. The immediate jump to her being in danger from a boat on the shore made the ambassador wonder if the Isle of the Jungle had much trouble come in that form. Tarzan was very quick to assume so, at least.
"No," she assured earnestly, "that ship brought me here." The way that Tarzan spoke of the ship made Pocahontas wonder what he would do if it were a threat. She was glad that there was no cause for violence that day. Only haste, she pointed out to herself. That thought, and Tarzan's offer of help, combined with the possibility of him being the protector of the jungle she'd heard about, spurred the Powhatan onward. "But I could use some help."
Tarzan sheepishly looked downwards and rubbed the back of his head. Everyone always told him he could be impulsive, which had gone okay for him for most of his life until he met other people. Still, Pocahontas had assured him that there would be no trouble from the ship. The crew would most likely do some business with the trading post while they waited.
The ape man had a lot of questions regarding any connection between the newcomer and Tiger Lily. Did they know each other? Did she make it home okay? Was there any more trouble with the pirates? For now it had to wait. Pocahontas just asked if he could help her with something else.
"If you're looking for help then I'd like to help. What do you need?"
There was that impulsiveness again, she seemed to have good intentions but for all Tarzan knew she could wind up asking him to nosedive off a cliff to demonstrate gravity. He was always ready to help though. Briefly he wondered if he'd need to go to the Camp to find Jane and the Professor in case things got complicated.
Pocahontas and Tarzan both were acting heedlessly, to an extent. Making judgments on assumptions and split-second decisions. For Pocahontas, she was sped onward by her quest, and the time-sensitive nature of it. There were likely similar reasons that urged Tarzan to similarly trust a complete stranger... Or, maybe not. "Heedless" as both of them were arguably being, both Powhatan and Jungle Man were very good at judging others. Pocahontas, for one, was being lead by the whisper of the spirits that she listened attentively to. They would not focus so entirely on Tarzan were he a sinister person.
Spirits aside, Pocahontas liked Tarzan. She had decided already, even after having just met him.
In any case, the current circumstances of Pocahontas' visit did not afford much luxury. Even if the ambassador had felt a sense of foreboding towards Tarzan, if he could offer a way to find what she sought, she wouldn't have been given a choice. Or wouldn't have considered there to be one. One goal was in mind for Pocahontas, and failure was not an option. Tarzan seemed eager to help, when she admitted that she could use some. Pocahontas was glad for it. Her fondness for the Ape Man grew.
Tarzan asked what she needed, and Pocahontas wished that she had the time to really explain in depth the reason for her trespassing on the Isle of the Jungle. Perhaps she could elaborate... During the search. Pocahontas was not going to stand idly by on that branch and detail the tragedy that had befallen her tribe. "I am looking," Pocahontas said, twisting her torso so that she could pull a rolled piece of deer hide from her hip, "for these." She unfurled the fabric to show a painting on its smoother side. Kekata had etched the image with his own, wizened fingers, and Grandmother Willow had approved of its likeness.
Pocahontas thought back on her last meeting with the shaman of the Powhatan. Kekata had been trying to conceal it, but the ambassador had not been blind to it; he was coming down with the symptoms of the plague. Pocahontas knew that some of her brothers and sisters in the tribe believed that the sickness was a curse, brought down upon them for some reason or another. She did not think that were the case, and hoped that it was simple misfortune, and not engineered by something, or someone sinister. The cause could wait until after the cure.
The image on the piece of hide showed a small, green plant that flowered in lavender and cream-colored blossoms, very small in size. Pocahontas' brows knit in a frown, her eyes betrayed just how important this was. "Do you recognize them?" she asked as her heart threw itself against her ribs.
Tarzan looked over the picture, briefly wondering why it was drawn on a fabric rather than on paper. The flower looked familiar. Since the Professor had come to the jungle he'd asked Tarzans help in collecting various plants, along with other items, from all over for cataloging. Some produced unique types of fruit, some made good gifts for Jane and some even helped people when they were sick....oh. If that was the case then he had no choice but to help Pocahontas. He could wrack his brain for days and couldn't see any dark motive to helping people get medical help.
"May I?" Tarzan asked to take the hide for a second, turning the image over to see if he could jog his memory. Perhaps he'd seen it while swinging from an awkward angle. "Yes. I know it. It grows in the Tar pits."
He thought back to the first time he'd gathered it, the Professor had tried to grow some closer to the camp with the seeds it produced but failed. It seemed to only grow in a very specific area of the jungle. Unluckily that area was the Tar Pits, a hot steamy location with little in the way of stable climbing. The trees around the pits had to be traversed slowly in case you grabbed a weak branch and fell. Worse if you landed in the tar, if you didn't move fast enough you'd be stuck. When Tarzan, Terk and Tantor were children it only took one short visit before they agreed that the adults were right and it wasn't a safe place to play.
"I can go get you some. Wait here."
The ape man hoped that he'd expressed how serious he was about her not following. He stepped backwards until he fell off the branch, grabbing a vine and turning the fall into forward momentum. Jane would probably chide him about how backwards he was being, leaving the female behind while he went on his outing, but this was a risky venture. As he continued travelling the trees Tarzan assured himself that Pocahontas would understand how dangerous the pits could be. No matter how good her intentions were it would be for nothing if she got hurt.
After ten minutes of swinging, sliding and climbing Tarzan dropped onto a small flat rock formation overlooking the pits. Nothing but dead trees and black tar for as far as he could see. Unknown to the jungle king another eye stared back at him. The owner lay perfectly still, saving stamina to see if the human would come closer.
Tarzan's eyes reminded her much of the way Kocoum's had been. Dark and filled with a depth as though you were watching the earth deliberate through them. Where Kocoum's glance was ever grim and severe, though, Tarzan's was gentle. Even in the seriousness that the situation held (which Tarzan acknowledged and acted beneath politely), Pocahontas could see the sincerity in the way he looked at the roll of deer hide that she produced. His forehead furrowed in a way that made his brown eyes even more intense. The ambassador did not flinch from them. On the contrary, everything that she had yet discerned or decided about Tarzan was good and trustworthy. She silently thanked the spirits to have stumbled upon the Ape Man.
Pocahontas watched Tarzan's shifting features with bated breath and a desperate focus. When he asked if he could take the deer hide for better study, she did not hesitate in gently relinquishing it. Tarzan continued to shift the image to see it from various angles, all the while Pocahontas' hope spit sparks in its longing for something good to finally happen. Tarzan spoke, and for a moment the Powhatan did not comprehend the words. When she realized that he was saying exactly what she was wishing and praying he would, Pocahontas' face slackened in the first signs of relief she'd shown in days. Thin raven brows shot up and her eyes shone with a light that was beyond grateful.
"Thank the spirits," Pocahontas whispered. Her eyes fluttered closed as she let this fortunate turn sink in, pressing one hand to her chest. "Where are these... 'tar pits'?" she ventured to ask. Already, the ambassador's air was turning more serious again. She didn't necessarily like being a serious and to-the-point person, but Pocahontas knew when that attitude was required. There was no reason that would demand that demeanor than the errand on which she was currently set. The way that Tarzan had said 'tar pits' made Pocahontas think of them warily. She did not know what they were, exactly, but it seemed fairly obvious that they would be what their name denoted: pits of tar. Pocahontas wasn't entirely sure what tar was, though. At least in this manner.
The Powhatan had just asked her question when Tarzan said briskly that he would retrieve the flowers, instructed her to wait there, and leaped off of the bough that they had both been standing upon. Pocahontas blinked once, then twice, slowly, caught unawares by the heel-turn of their encounter. Had she not been so pressed, she would have been respectfully dazzled by the effortless grace that Tarzan had used to make his departure. After two or so long seconds, Pocahontas finally understood in full what had just happened: she'd been left behind. Her features condensed in... displeasure. Pocahontas did not like being left behind. Certainly when she felt that this quest needed her to be present throughout it.
Stubbornness swelled in her prideful heart, left with room to maneuver now that, in theory, things would be well. Pocahontas didn't delay afterwards. She sprinted ten feet down the tree limb, and cast herself off in a majestic swan dive. Her hands reached out and latched onto a vine that hung in her way; if Tarzan could do it, why not she? Pocahontas had swung on ropes hung in trees above the river before as a child, and she put the principles of those memories to use in this first arc. The Powhatan nearly lost her grip when her arc of trajectory accelerated more than she anticipated. Then the vine reached its opposite end of the swing and flicked like a whip, sending Pocahontas surging up and through the air over a terrifying distance.
Most would have been screaming, or mute, or otherwise affected by this new and by all rights terrifying method of transportation. Pocahontas was smiling in abandon. Or she was, until she realized she needed to trail after Tarzan. Had it not been for the spirits continuing to guide her (their belief in that Pocahontas should be with Tarzan helped her to feel less guilty about her disobedience to him) as a trail after the Ape Man, Pocahontas would have been lost. He could move much more fluidly than the ambassador ever believed she'd manage. He navigated the treetops the same way that Pocahontas sprinted through the wooded hills, or paddled down the tiny rivers of her homeland.
Sweat glossed her dark skin by the time she'd landed at the edge of the tree cover near her mark. She crouched on a limb and looked down to what she guessed were the tar pits. They certainly earned their name. Large vats of natural, rubbery black substances bubbled, frothed and hissed in terraces of otherwise lifeless rock below. The entire area below, in fact, looked like a deep sore or scar on the otherwise lush land of the Isle of the Jungle. The only things that grew within it were the dead husks of dried trees that mostly tilted this way and that, half swallowed by the tar. The forest marched down to the pits on all sides, but stopped at a sheer wall several feet before the tar began.
Pocahontas wrestled her gaze off of the scenery, and downward toward a flat expanse of rock between several pools of tar where Tarzan stood. She had made better time than she thought. He looked to have just arrived there slightly before her. While Pocahontas watched, her eyes caught something that looked unnatural near the edge of the flat stone. She tilted her head and curiously pondered what it could be. The Powhatan's eyes widened in fearful alarm when epiphany struck. Quickly she grasped a branch that lay, stuck on a tuft of leaves after having fallen from higher up, and dropped. In a more silent and nearly feline version of Tarzan's own entrance, Pocahontas landed in a crouch on the rock behind him.
Quietly, she crawled forward, using her feet and one palm to steady herself. Pocahontas' silky hair had fallen to obscure her face, but she dare not reach up to push it aside. She simply stared through the strands of raven locks as she brought the stick back. With a quick thrust, Pocahontas' stick slid beneath the belly of the snake, whose attention had been fixated on the slightly ahead and adjacent Tarzan. She lifted it up by the middle and, with a powerful motion, sent the snake flying into the forest and out of sight. The rock around Pocahontas' and Tarzan's feet smoked where the snake's spewed venom had splashed down in his anger and dismay.
Pocahontas' chest heaved in the aftermath of the situation, and she slowly turned to look at Tarzan. Suddenly self-conscious, she swept her hair behind her ears and began to calm herself down. "There was a serpent," she said lamely.
Tarzan flinched as the snake sailed past him, he turned to see Pocahontas wielding the stick she'd presumably flung the creature with. Inwardly he felt embarassed about having missed it. When he was younger he'd seen Kerchek grab a snake by the throat just as it lunged at one of the tribe, a feat that Tarzan had spent years trying to replicate and taken a few scratches on his knuckles in the attempt. Naturally he never trained with the venomous kind. This time though he was too focused on what was waiting in the pits and if his new friend hadn't followed him the search for the flower would have come to a swift end. He wisely chose not to argue with her decision to follow him.
"Thanks. I was distracted." He looked back at the pits. "They normally don't come here, the pits are Histas territory."
Hista was a local horror story, fast becoming equally as infamous as Sabor was. A massive python able to take out a fully grown silverback if he could get the drop on him, thanks to how quiet he was he usually could too. As a cold blooded reptile Hista liked warm places to rest off his last meal, plus since most animals avoided the tar pits he pretty much had the place to himself. Tarzan had only met the snake once when it attacked a few ape children. His size, speed and stealth threw the ape man off his game, not to mention his usual combat style using brute strength and holds had little effect. A lucky strike with a large branch stunned the creature allowing Tarzan to get the others to safety, after which he'd spent his recovery reading up on large snakes to try and find a weakness. Tarzan quickly related most of this story to Pocahontas, making sure she knew what she was getting into.
"If you see him just stay quiet and move out of sight. If you fall in the tar don't hesitate for a second, it's only knee deep but if you don't get out fast or you'll be stuck."
Jane and the Professor had tried to explain this to Tarzan some time back at the camp. When something landed in the surface of liquids like tar or quicksand, they called it something like..non-newt-onion. From what Tarzan could understand, someone could escape the tar if they moved fast as soon as they landed, but if they started sinking their struggles would just trap them further. Pocahontas clearly wanted to take an active role in finding the plant so it was best to provide her with everything he knew.
"Some of the plant is growing over there." Tarzan pointed out a small earthen isle in the middle of the pit, lavender and cream patches contrasting with the dark tar at a distance and making the flower noticable. "Move slowly and test where you climb before you put your weight on it."
Tarzan started crawling onto a dead branch next to their rock platform, slowly moving onto one of the dead trees and feeling out a safe route. He didn't know of or understand Pocahontas connection with the spirits and nature since his abilities were purely from lifetime experience with a lot of trial and error, but he trusted that she'd be able to follow safely and that between the two of them they could beat any obstacle. Hopefully the main obstacle was elsewhere or resting off another meal though.
ooc: my fault, sorry. Meant to say the first snake was Hista but didn't make proper mention of size or distance. I think your way works better though.
From what Pocahontas had discerned of Tarzan thus far - and spirits or no, the young woman was a remarkable judge of character - she did not think that her intervention would disagree with him. Particularly beings that it had saved him from the sting of a serpent's venom. Speculation aside, Pocahontas was familiar with a warrior's pride and knew that her intrusion, however helpful, could possibly chafe against Tarzan's self-image. She saw a flinch and then barely detectable wince run through him, the latter being much more metaphorical than visible. Pocahontas understood; he was likely berating himself for not noticing the serpent beforehand. She would have done much the same in his place.
Fortunately the jungle man was not cross with Pocahontas for outright going against his instruction to wait. She was not blind to the fact that her timely action against the snake removed any reasonable concern Tarzan could have with her being there. Tarzan was actually and sincerely grateful toward Pocahontas then, and her admiration for him continued to grow because of it. The Powhatan nodded gravely as her companion verbalized his thanks and began to explain why he hadn't been as wary as he might have. Pocahontas' eyes narrowed while Tarzan explained of this "Hista." Her blood began to chill at the start, but by the end of the explanation it was intermingled; cold with caution and revulsion at this Hista, and aflame with righteous fury directed toward him.
Pocahontas understood and respected the pattern that nature had to follow to continue turning, but the serpent that Tarzan spoke of seemed nothing short of evil. That was something that she had no sense of mercy toward. Tarzan moved from his explanation of Hista to his experienced warning concerning the snake as well as the hostile environment around them. Pocahontas listened carefully and nodded once again, even more gravely, once he had instructed her. His advice she held in high esteem, and Pocahontas was not about to go against it. Hardly had Tarzan concluded when he pointed out the very plant that was the Powhatan's salvation.
Pocahontas' eyes widened. She was possessed with the urge to leap, ricochet and swing with abandon to the small island of ashy earth that sported the blossoms in her relief. Tarzan's warning as much as his demonstration of how to go forward stilled the woman's heart. Forcing caution over herself and ever looking accusingly at her surroundings to assure no sight of Hista could be seen, Pocahontas began to gingerly ascend another deadened tree that leaned adjacent to the one Tarzan was mounting. "What is the color of the serpent's scales?" she thought to ask after a moment. Pertinent knowledge, she thought.
Tarzan paused as his friend asked for more detail about Hista, namely his colours. Presumably she just wanted to know what to watch out for.
"Red."Like the blood he spills."and black."Like his heart. It seemed better to keep the answer short rather than go into the grim details that were in his head.
As he tested the next branch Tarzan wondered about Pocahontas and where she was from. How they were both similar in ways, but different in others. Jane had told him about London many times but from what he'd heard it didn't seem like the kind of place Poca was from. Her quick adaptation to the jungle suggested that she came from a natural environment but he worried that it would be hasty to ask her if she was raised among animals like he was with the gorillas, Tiger Lily had looked at him like he was crazy when he made the connection to her feathered headwear as a sign that she was raised by birds.
"Are you from another jungle?" He thought it was a good place to start. "You swing good."
Bracing himself around a tree trunk, the apeman reached to the next branch and tested it with a little weight, only for it to snap off and sink slowly into the tar. In response Tarzan grunted in frustration and changed route for a safer advance. He hated travelling slow and the worst part, aside from the murderous python probably hiding nearby, was the rotted vines hanging limp over some of the branches reminding him of a better way to get anywhere. Still, safety was paramount and his new friend did need that plant, for reasons he didn't actually know come to think of it. Pocahontas was surely taking a great risk for it not to mention how far she probably came on the boat. Surely it wasn't to stick in a vase and place on a table. Stopping to check on her progress he secured his grip, just in case the heat from the sun and the pit got to him and he slipped.
"Why do you need this flower?"
At the edge of the pits, out of sight of the two intruders, the master of the domain had returned from his recent hunt. Though his previous meals could keep him going for some time he still ventured out to pick off a few smaller jungle residents out of malice. As he coiled around a branch and let his head hang he set his yellow eyes on the two below. The hairless ape who had spoiled one of his meals some time back (never mind that he found sustinence elsewhere, but his pride was hurt when he didn't finish Tarzan off) and he'd brought a female with him. The other animals had heard that the gorillas protector had a mate, perhaps this was the best way to hurt him. Hista lowered himself slowly to the top of the ledge, looking to observe for now and see if they'd tire themself out or fall into the tar traps before he struck.
David Xanatos: Kat's back. Hope the vacation was fun.
Jul 21, 2018 21:00:05 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: 'Twas a good trip! I'm sad it's over, but at the same time I'm glad to be back home so I can finish up my cosplays for a con next month and hang out with my cats
Jul 26, 2018 12:34:56 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Hope the cosplay goes well. I'm putting away a little extra for a con in a few weeks. and yay cats, they're always good company. Except for that one who slaps me unprovoked XD. So what cosplays do you have in mind unless they're secret?
Jul 26, 2018 17:07:41 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: I'm cosplaying Pearl from Steven Universe and Joseph Joestar from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure!
Jul 26, 2018 23:16:41 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: I'm almost done both of them, I just have to finish styling Pearl's wig and fix up Joseph's gloves and wristbands
Jul 26, 2018 23:17:31 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Awesome. Had to look up Jojo because I'm not hip with the modern pop culture but I hope they turn out well.
Jul 30, 2018 15:33:15 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: I only just started watching the anime last year and I haven't even touched the manga, so I'm barely hip with it lol. fortunately I have my cosplay buddy guiding me through the whole experience
Jul 30, 2018 22:29:38 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: also I finally finished the gloves! They were more of a pain to work with than I expected, but they'll hold together... I hope...
Jul 30, 2018 22:30:13 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Niceness. Hoping they hold also. Got the Dublin comic con next Saturday here. Hoping to meet Karl Urban.
Aug 1, 2018 19:05:32 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: Cool! I think he's coming to my city in the fall, if I remember correctly. Hope you enjoy the con, Daryl!
Aug 2, 2018 19:10:23 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: I spoke too soon. Karl Urban had to cancel for schedule conflicts. They got Nick Frost though, I'm gonna ask him if he'll sign my Hot Fuzz.
Aug 3, 2018 18:08:47 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: Dang! Nick Frost is great though, I love his character in Into the Badlands
Aug 4, 2018 22:54:36 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Enjoy your weekend Kat, hope the costumes came out as you wanted.
Aug 10, 2018 16:49:31 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Met Nick Frost and Michael Dorn at the weekend. Both very nice blokes.
Aug 13, 2018 15:22:59 GMT -5
Dodger: Happy 2019 everyone
Jan 1, 2019 10:54:04 GMT -5
Yen Sid: If anyone is passing by I posted a Hiatus update. Hope everyone is doing well!
Apr 18, 2021 11:31:09 GMT -5
Yen Sid: I've temporarily disabled account creation while I update the site. Sorry for the inconvenience and thanks for your patience!
May 9, 2021 18:31:45 GMT -5
Owen Burnett/Puck: Checked the site again and saw the update! Here's hoping to a revitalized 2022.
Dec 15, 2021 14:41:27 GMT -5