Posts by MALFOY —

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Or ... something of the sort. The pale feline (for he was a feline, that he was certain of) was battered and bloody and nearly unconscious on BlizzardClan's borders, though his stark eyes were somewhat cracked open and staring, almost blankly, straight ahead, paws flexing in testament to his agony. And it wasn't some minor cut, no; he was mauled! He was certain there was a broken bone or two, and the gashes themselves were enough to inspire pain in even the strongest. How he was alive, he wasn't sure, but the blood escaped slowly.

So there he lay, in this pretty terrible mobile post that was rushed bc Children in Need is emotional af.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]The voice was tinny, far away, but it was enough to shake him out of his stupor, somewhat, and he blinked blearily, his face twisted into a grimace, too far gone to make it a sneer and too in pain to smoothen his frown. " G- get me- some cobwebs, f- " he coughed- " fool- make it quick. " he was dying, and roaring wasn't going to help. If anybody was in earshot they wouldn't be close, and for all he knew, it was highly plausible that he could die before someone else got there. Someone ... competent. So was he stuck with steering this jaguar moron? Perhaps, but it was better than nothing. Not as good as someone with a brain, but still- better than nothing.

(again, rushed somewhat oops >w<)
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Ah, yes. He forgot that screaming like a moron was helpful. If only he'd remembered this simple fact — shrieking like a little girl saved lives — the world would be so much simpler. The young male cast Arcade a baleful look at the chastising, but, as talking hurt, he decided to hold off on it for the while, only ogling the medicine cat again as he asked if he was allowed to help. What was he expecting? A no? Did he think Draco wanted to die?

Well, I mean, that was debatable, but for the moment, life didn't seem like a constant hell. He was fine with staying alive.

He still remained that perfect level of silent as Darkrose approached, watching her grow the herbs with ill eyes. Yes, of course, magic herbs. He was slightly annoyed that the others didn't possess that ability and he was being saved by some horse dolt, but whatever — he assumed not everybody was meant to be gifted with great abilities, and some that were simply didn't deserve their prizes. Luckily, in his weakness, none of this was mentioned, and Draco stayed amicably quiet.

But that didn't last long, because Ultrapaw's statement was too gold to ignore. " What d- do you suggest I do, h- huh? My only other option i- is to roll over and d- die, so hanging in th- there seems great. " he got out, voice defensively sarcastic. And then he coughed again, blood coating his lips as he hacked it from his lungs. How ... Nice. He was definitely dying.

(three broken ribs and two fractured ones, fractured right forelimb, several large cuts all over his body and lots of bruising nwn)
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Draco had been doing alright at ' hanging in there ', as Ultrapaw had put it, until Arcade started feeling around - something akin to angry terror spawned in his eyes, as much as he tried to wipe it completely from his gaze, and he managed to transfix it on the medic, now glossed over with indignation. " Watch it, " he snapped, voice weak and tenuous, his body tensed with pain. At least he wasn't bleeding all over the place, now.

Fractured ribs as well as broken ones? Oh, how was he meant to cope like this? A grim expression of dismissal fixed itself to his features momentarily, but he said nothing on the matter. They were just taking him to camp? No name exchanges, no worth-proving? He wondered how many spies they let in a day. This was ... pathetic. But, still, if it meant he was alive and ... away from where he'd come from, Malfoy was hardly complaining. Much. Maybe a little bit. Complaining was fun, after all. He'd been raised in England; from Fan's experiences, they were very good at it.

He glanced to Darkrose, then. Was she going to manhandle him, too? Did they want him to stand up? He thought about this for a moment, then turned to face Ultrapaw. " That was almost w- witty. I bet that's you- your default when talking t- to someone with a brain. Go ahead. Is that meant to o- offend, or make me laugh? Doesn't matter, a- actually; it's too p- pathetic to do either, anyway. "

His eyes then found Neville, hanging back there, and- oh, no, another moron. Anything he could do to help? Leave, maybe? Stop squeaking like that? Find him a nice bath to relax in? Draco decided to say nothing to him, blocking him out with a soft snort of fatigue.

(shrieks neville
hi danny!)
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Draco and Luna, perhaps?

And while we're on it, threads with the ass?
[/fancypost][size=2px][color=transparent] #malfoooooy

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]that's because nobody can resist the ass
who makes?

i'm not out of my until dawn phase yet tbh
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]tracking out of curiosity !!
[/fancypost][size=2px][color=transparent] #malfoooooy

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]sure! i'll post it here when i'm done - i don't think i have any homework ...

i know, i just
im so excited & omggg
also yes josh i felt v bad for him & mike & literally everyone tbh
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Malfoy scowled as somebody else approached with pacifistic exclamations on their tongue, but he hunkered down and didn't deign himself to reply, because it wasn't worth it. Pain? Yeah, he hurt a bit. Throbbed all over. He could still remember the events before arriving here with startling clarity, but everything else? Actually getting here? All a bit of a blur, really; he almost fell in a ditch at one point, he recalled, hid in a bush, and last to his knowledge, there was ... a river. But other than that? He recalled nothing.

He turned his head again as Neville spoke, raising his brows in mock shock. " So y- you'll ... what? " he broke off in a fit of coughs, wheezing and wiping his mouth with his left forelimb, the only good one remaining. " Walk away? I- I bet you- w- won't. " he choked out, blood welling in his jaws and forcing him to fall silent again.

(how's it going? ^o^ <3)
[/fancypost][size=2px][color=transparent] #malfoooooy

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]The word used to describe his current disposition was not sulky, for that made him sound like an insolent child, which was far too accurate; it was better to use ' broody ', or ' contemplative ', because it was true that he was deep in thought. He had seen little in the way of promising lifeforms here, and was almost starting to miss home, wherever that now was in relation to BlizzardClan, even if home likely meant more of what he'd run from, more of the ... he almost said punishments, but sometimes it was counted as praise. It was just daily toil, really. For a prodigy, a protégé, he hadn't been treated quite like the so-called one he was, and yet couldn't bring himself to scorn his name. Imprinting and influence ran through his veins, and he couldn't seem to bleed it out.

And he had, Draco noted as he shifted with a displeased expression, bled a lot. He was still healing, broken bones bound and wounds bandaged, and he would be found in a secluded part of camp, having managed to convince another apprentice to get him some water and something to eat (manipulation ... he still had that, at least) and having finished that off, staring irritably at a bug just out of reach. He wanted to squish that bug. Bloody thing deserved it.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]http://feralfront.com/index.php?topic=2248036.0
boop!

and yes mike was amazing
his random monologues just
yes
[/fancypost][size=2px][color=transparent] #malfoooooy

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Draco had good control over his own powers; he'd never been bad at using them, rather the opposite, and had particularly enjoyed duelling when younger, even if now it was much more serious, and far more than a child's club. Still, he was mostly useless without his wand (note - mostly, he could still wield his abilities, just with less focus without its presence), and made a mental note to try and find it the moment his blasted leg healed, and whatnot. Pah; he knew people who could've helped him in half a second, but he was still, obviously, injured, having to heal like ... like a mudblood. Waiting. Just ... waiting for the bones to knit together, or whatever bones did.

Ugh.

" Oh, so you aren't all completely incompetent. " sniffed Malfoy with an air of superiority, his sharp eyes raking Toris.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Of course. Draco had already knocked him into Hufflepuff, rather disdainfully - or Gryffindor, maybe, if he bared his teeth a little. Something pathetic, either way. He would have sneered, had his features not been tugged into a constant grimace due to the pain, though at Neville's question, he shut himself down, eyes slitting. " None of your bloody business! " he snapped suddenly, stifling the coughs so that he sounded far more indignant than he would have, pain still snapping at his heels; it was clear Neville had touched a nerve, though Draco wouldn't give him the satisfaction of prodding much further.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]He was hardly in the feral lands, barely over BlizzardClan's border, but Malfoy was scouring, and he was scouring because he was impatient and didn't want to have to wait for his stupid body to heal; he wanted his wand, and he was certain he'd dropped it just before reaching BlizzardClan, hence why he was still close to his new ... alliance's territory. Limping due to having one broken leg and several broken and fractured ribs, the still-injured, pale male ducked low to the ground, expression one of disgust as he picked through the wet ground, searching for his wand.
[/fancypost][size=2px][color=transparent] #malfoooooy

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]iF you make friends with the wolf and i just
i loved that wolf omg
i was sad when it ended, too </3
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]The pale feline stepped backwards at the appearance, just to place some distance between him and Leonidas, though he regarded the male with begrudging interest, his chin tipped upwards in a superior manner, so that he could definitely ' look down ' at the cub. " Something of mine. It's none of your business. " he pressed, because telling people about his wand was, apparently, something he wasn't comfortable doing. He had no idea who was like him, who was similar to him but a complete moron, and who was a muggle. He had no idea whether Leonidas was (his idea of) good or not, so remained steadfast.

" Do you have a reason for lurking around, or will you piss off? " he continued, turning again to continue looking.
[/fancypost][size=2px][color=transparent] #malfoooooy

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]the devil made me, only we never met;
what you do is say it with a smile boy,
makin' us all forget

Six hours passed remarkably quickly when the mind wasn't all there, Draco had learned. His jaw clenched and unclenched rapidly, steps uneven, something he could blame on the broken leg and ribs, and he found himself back in BlizzardClan camp without even knowing how he'd gotten there, empty pawed and without the wand he'd set out to find. Admittedly, there was a reason for that - he'd ... been ... unwillingly distracted from the task at hand - but he wasn't about to tell anybody why he'd set out, because the humiliation of having to say he'd not found his wand was bad enough.

The actual reason for not finding it? That was something that he took surprisingly well. Draco was used to it, besides. He wasn't particularly traumatised by another event, though his self loathing did increase a notch, admittedly.

The pale feline didn't sit, but he eased himself into a laying position, belly-down, in a secluded part of camp, arranging his broken limb so it settled comfortably. Damn this all! He'd wanted his wand, and now he didn't have it, but he had more of a burden on his hands, instead.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Was she his unwilling antipode, then? She was a child hurt and turned good, and he was a child hurt and twisted by that pain. Now a teen, Draco was listless and malevolent, and as all knew, a bored child was a naughty child. He had never grown out of the spoiled brat exterior, even if now, he knew that spoiled didn't always mean loved. It wasn't that he'd ever accept that he wanted to love, though. It wasn't like he'd ever accept that he wanted to be loved. Draco had grown and been raised in a way that meant he no longer accepted it, or used the terms of endearment that others did.

He'd just about stretched and gauged the distance between him and the bug when Tama settled down right in front of him, cutting off his view of the beetle and forcing him back into his previous, half-coiled position. He managed to force himself to sit after a moment of contemplation, then returned a typically scornful gaze to Tama. It wasn't that he hated her, personally, or anything; that was just his defensive stare. It could be melted, but that wasn't often. He never looked soft; not recently, anyway.

" What do you think? " he muttered, voice still hoarse from the amount of coughing he'd done. Hopefully that'd clear up, soon, too. He hated having to wait so long to get better. There was little to be gained from faking pain, nowadays, so he just wanted the real problems to be done with. He did pause, though, after that, and nod his head, curtly. He was okay, and yes, he had turned up battered. He knew why, too, but ... well, he wasn't one to go enthusiastically recounting his history to strangers.
[/fancypost][size=2px][color=transparent] #malfoooooy

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]Draco's eyes swept up to Neville and he was sat up in an instant, ignoring the flashes of pain as his body protested against his brain's orders. Why did everybody feel a need to bug him? It wasn't that he hated attention, he just- didn't need the whiny nagging of some people, Neville included. He missed the ... old times, when people never questioned what he wanted, when the mere mention of his father had people trembling. Now? He never even bothered to whine to daddy dearest, because he now knew what that meant for big boys.

" Do I bloody look ' alright '? " Draco's head throbbed, and he squinted at the pain, before forcing his expression out of that small, vulnerable frown and into something more ... him. Even if, now, him was far lower than his previous, narcissistic self. He'd fallen far. " What do you want, anyway? " he eyed the sack. " What's that full of? Your breakfast, or the snack before lunch? "
[/fancypost][size=2px][color=transparent] #malfoooooy

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; font-family; font-size: 8pt]With his wand, or with four working legs and a intact ribs, Draco would have perhaps been able to defend himself, either in magical or physical combat. Yes, he was thin, and without the powerful muscles of some, but he had some strength, right? Alas, with his already-uneven structure, the injured male went down with a low hiss, ears flattened to his skull. What did this imbecile think he was doing? Draco was tempted to use his father as a threat, but then it occurred to him that he'd run ... away ... from his father ... and ... ah. Well, he'd lost that card.

" Get off me, you moron! " Draco snapped, aiming to stamp on Leonidas' toes.
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