Posts by Jonsi Snow

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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jon sighed. He could easily see they were right about this. "The only doubt I have is... I may be able to pass the judgement and send Westeros into battle, but I cannot lead my clanmates into something I have no experience with. Some day I'll know enough to be able to stand on the front lines, declaring my people's presence and being the first into the battle, but I can't willingly do that now and still think well of myself," the canine answered, making sure to keep up his strong appearance, despite admitting the one weakness that frightened him most. "One of you will need to lead them into this fight," the tailless beast added, glancing between Coriolanus and Sousuke.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]It was good to hear that their allies were doing well. "I'm very glad to hear that you and your clan are well," he woofed sincerely, smiling at the two BlizzardClanners. He certainly hoped they stayed that way for a long time, just as he hoped Westeros grew in strength and impression and remained so for the rest of existence, if such a large goal was ever achievable.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]"It is good to hear that you are well," the King replied with a sincere smile to Blaise, before directing his attention to Rook's words. He grinned at them, and woofed, "Thank you, for your congratulations and your confidence, and I will certainly look forward to your visit. As for a drink, what do you have to offer? I'm unfortunately not well-versed in the refreshments outside of Westeros, and there it's mostly water and summerwine, though both are quite lovely."
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]The surprise on Jon's face showed, though it was a pleasant surprise. "Then I'll have to thank him when I return to Westeros. I never officially sent out news messangers, so I was under the impression that it wasn't common knowledge yet. Still, visiting in person, I feel, instills greater confidence in me from both my own people and our allies. And it gives me the opportunity to meet some members of allying clans, and I could never resist meeting new faces. It's always so exciting," the canine woofed in return with a grin, before adding, "And thank you for your well-wished. Hopefully, they are well-placed."
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]//my apologies for the late reply, I was busy all of yesterday and most of the day before <3

Jon, while still a bit nervous for the matters to be discussed, was actually rather grateful for the Prince cutting to the chase. "I know that, not long ago, you came to Westeros on matters of alliance, but you and my father were unable to work out a way to become allies. I do not know the details, only that it was an opportunity missed. Now that Westeros is under my leadership, I wanted to come to Dorne to see if it's not to late to make amends to what occured last time the subject was breached, and to see if you would still be interested in an alliance with Westeros," the youth said, keeping his voice level despite the slight tremble he felt in his hands, one of which was flexing and clenching again on his lap, helping to ease his nerves.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]The wolf sighed dramatically. "Dear, dear Coriolanus... What gave you the impression that I was speaking of myself? Would I have asked where we could find such a match if I already knew of myself?" he asked, shaking his head in an overdramatic way. Turning to the cougar with a flirty smile on his face, the canine added, "Of course, if you're trying to say something, we can always find a different match maker." With this, the youth winked at his Hand before wiggling his eyebrows and grinning. He was certainly enjoying this... interesting conversation.

//Sometimes I wonder if Jon is really more guy than girl...
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jon glanced at his paws. If she didn't know, then he couldn't prove anything. Except perhaps by taking her to Bill himself and asking, but... he doubted the female would be willing to go see her potential father. "So your mother never told you who your father was?" he asked, curiously but quietly, glancing at the apprentice. He could easily understand why no one would discuss such a topic with their children, especially before they were fully grown adults. The wolf just happened to be better at finding things out than Link was at hiding them.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jon half-snorted before getting himself under control. "That really narrows it down," he mused with an over-dramatic shake of his head. "How about... What's it like in the Exiles? I visited once, but that was very brief and shortened by Bill ordering one of your clanmates to attack me. I still have the scars to prove it, as well," the wolf suggested, with a chuckle.

//cuddles! <3
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]//my apologies for the late reply, I've been busy this past week with real-life things <3

It was easy for Jon to fall back onto a relaxed attitude, similar to the one Cain carried. The wolf usually stayed formal when meeting leaders over political matters, or for first impressions with anyone, but at the Admiral's casual speech, he dropped the stiffer approach. "Fresh air it is, then," he barked with a smile. "It's good to hear the Rift is doing well, and I hope it stays that way. Westeros is doing well also, though I'm irritated to report that Bill is still an issue. At this point, the only problems he causes are minor annoyances, but I'm always ready for him to try some stunt again. I can't wait until we get rid of his mangry backside," the canine replied, rolling his eyes as he discussed his father's antics. The Cipher was truly quite annoying. [/fancypost][/fancypost]

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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jon approached, dipping his head to the PhantomClanner. "Thank you for the gifts. And yes, our alliance still stands," he woofed with a friendly grin to the visitor.

//rushed
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jon, too, found it difficult to hide his surprise. No wonder things had gone so badly in that meeting. Giving himself a few seconds to compose a calm reply, the youth took a deep but quiet breath. "I was never made aware of the details of the meeting, nor was I told the exact reasoning for the failure to form an alliance. I can assure you, however, that my views on the matter differ from my father's. I would not lead Westeros into battle against an ally, regardless of who was requesting our assistance. BloodClan has numerous allies to count on, and they would not need our assistance. Of course, this also means that I will not lead Westeros into battle against BloodClan at Dorne's request, as I'm sure you can agree with. I apologize for my father's decisions, but am glad I had the opportunity to hear them and make different decisions myself," the black-haired teenager said, the sincerity of his words reflected in his sapphire blue eyes. He glanced to Coriolanus, both for support and to hear what the Hand's opinion was, if his was any different.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jon approached, deep concern weighing down his movements. He could tell this had been ShadowClan. Anyone with a nose could tell. Yet, what Sousuke pointed out was correct. "I will visit ShadowClan personally to discuss these matters with Writingsins. If the message on the body is right, and a Westerosi left a body on ShadowClan territory, I will gladly assist Writingsins in finding the perpetrator and punishing them accordingly. For now, I want no instigation between Westeros and ShadowClan. Nothing that could be perceived as threatening or accusing. If this was the act of a single creature, it's unlikely it was ordered by Writingsins. And retaliation like this is much less politically tactful than coming or sending a representative to talk about it. If this was an ordered attack, it's unlikely ShadowClan is concerned about maintaining our alliance. And it could easily have been an attempt to disperse the alliance, in which case both sides need to be made aware of this so the enemy can be taken care of," the canine woofed, looking around his clanmates to see what they thought.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Oh, oh, JonJon!
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jonsi, hehe. I'm actually not sure which way this would go... Time to find out!
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jon approached, feeling both a bit annoyed that he'd taken so long to find this, and prideful of how welcoming his clanmates were. "Welcome, Youngblood," he woofed with a warm smile. "It's already been said, but thank you for the gifts. It is a welcome visit," the canine added, though he didn't repeat Milwaukee's question of how DarkClan was faring.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]As the past week has proven, I will be a bit more inactive with real life matters than I previously believed or intended. I will still try to get on daily and respond to urgent matters, but I cannot promise frequent replies. Because I want to make sure all matters of clan-wide business are taken care of, all private, non-political threads will be very low-priority on my list of items to answer to. I apologize for this, but hopefully weekends will be more productive for me.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jon practically bounced out of the passenger seat, a broad grin on the teenager's face. His hair was dark and messy, as usual, but topped with a Mickey Ears hat that practically blended in with the black locks. His strong, normally hard features were softened by the juvenile delight that exuded from his entire being. He was dressed in a navy blue shirt with the Disney logo in bright white on the front and beige cargo shorts. The youth wore bright red high top converse, freshly groomed and specified to attract attention. Just by looked at the blue-eyed man one could tell this wasn't his first-- and certainly not his last-- trip to Disney World. To add to the silliness of this 6'1", lean but muscled seventeen year-old being ecstatic for a trip to Disney, he wore a black fanny pack around his waist. Inside one could find a multitude of water bottle, a few snack bars, and a bottle of sunscreen, for the fairer skinned. He'd packed it just in case Coriolanus forgot anything. He viewed himself and Coriolanus as the caretakers of the group, even if he was close in age to Mononoke. What surprised most people about the normally goofy teenager was that, when necessary, Jon was very serious. Whether it be dealing with bumps and scrapes or tossing someone over a bridge for hurting one of those he deemed his family, the male could go from child-like joy and carelessness to murderous, over-protective Papa (Or Mama, no one's really quite sure) Bear in an instant. For now, though, he was carefree.

The black-haired man practically skipped to the front of the group, and turned to face them all. Shooting a quick wink at Coriolanus, he extended a single hand towards the entire group and began to serenade them. "I can show you the world," he rang out, his voice surprisingly silky and low, already a rather good rendition, before continuing, "Shining, shimmering, splendid..." For the next line, the youth's sapphire eyes found Corio again, and he smirked mischievously. "Tell me, Princess, now when did you last let your heart decide?" he sang loudly, wiggling his eyebrows at Coriolanus as he put extra emphasis on the word "Princess". Oh boy, was this going to be an interesting trip.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]There is was. The change back to seriousness. Jon refused to let his smile fade, but his gaze darted to an undefined spot behind the cougar. He could fake a smile, but the canine's eyes had always betrayed his true feelings. He couldn't let Coriolanus see how much that had stung, for reasons even the Snow couldn't decipher. Why should he be so hurt? It's not like there was anything between them. Was there? Confusion fogged his brain, but the King didn't try to push it away immediately. He enjoyed having something other than unjustified hurt in his mind. "Yeah, I always have. I've never understood how you can be so serious all the time. It'd kill me," he woofed back, laughing a little. It was forced, but he had to ease the tension, dispel the pain that nipped at his throat, choking it up just enough that his laugh turned into a cough. The tailless creature sat down, his eyes looking to the trees around them and avoiding, at all costs, turning back to Corio. His expression was carefree, happy, but his eyes stung and he knew without being told that they'd be hurt, or even empty. Sometimes, when emotions were suddenly shut down around him, the wolf followed suit. He lost all caring, all joy, all... anything. Sometimes he wished he could just stop caring on a whim, if only to suspend the disappointment, the pain, the suffering for a little longer. It certainly would've come in handy every time his father tried to commit suicide. "These trees really are lovely, aren't they?" Jon said lightly, changing the subject as quickly as possible.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]The canine shrugged. There wasn't much he could do about it, not now. At least, not to prove she was his half-sister. But, still, anyone who carried the Cipher name was related to him, in one way or another. And this feline wasn't licking the ground Bill walked on. She was family, and free-willed family at that. Had that not been what he was searching for? "So, where are you off to? We're still related, and I'd love to get together sometime. I love all my adopted family, but it's just different with blood family. And I don't exactly have an abundance of that worth having around here," Jon said, laughing a little bit. It was true. Most of the family he knew of belonged to the Exiles, and he wanted nothing to do with them, or with Bill. Unfortunately, half of his existence came from the demonic male, so he could never be fully separated.
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[fancypost bgcolor=#4E4E4E; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: 1px solid #949494; overflow: hidden; margin-top: 7px;][fancypost bgcolor=; width: 370px; height: 170px; padding: 7px; border: ; margin-left: -8px; margin-top: -8px; overflow: auto; line-height: 14px; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify;]Jon approached, ready to train but also taking an interest in the conversation between Sousuke and Blindkit. He could see where this was going, if any of his intuition was right. The canine walked to his Hand's side, lightly bumping him with a shoulder and mouthing in his best mafia accent (As well as one can mouth an accent), "You, me. Playground at three. No one takes my animal crackers" before grinning widely.
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