CAUTION TO THE
COLOURFUL

CHAT WITH US!
WEATHER



SETTING
BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA

FORECAST
WARM & SUNNY

STAFF


Profile
Personal Photo

No Photo

Options
Custom Title
JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE doesn't have a custom title currently.
Personal Info
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
Interests
No Information
Other Information
Alias: TAYLOR
Element: FIRE
Occupation: SYNDICATE BOSS
Age: 23
Relationship Status: MARRIED TO NELL DALE
Shipper: http://cautiontothecolourful.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=13
Request: No Information
Gif: http://i.imgur.com/t3JMc9u.gif
Development: http://cautiontothecolourful.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=319
Statistics
Joined: 3-March 15
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Oct 26 2016, 03:05 PM
Local Time: Sep 22 2017, 10:04 AM
283 posts (0.3 per day)
( 7.33% of total forum posts )
Contact Information
AIM No Information
Yahoo No Information
GTalk No Information
MSN No Information
SKYPE No Information
Message: Click here
Email: Private
Signature
View Signature

JOSHUA DONOVAN DALE

FIRE ELEMENTAL (a)

Topics
Posts
Comments
Friends
My Content
May 8 2015, 06:39 AM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; padding: 50px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 11px; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; color: b0aca8;"><center><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background:#000;padding:5px;border:1px solid #121212;"><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background-image:url(http://33.media.tumblr.com/556ab11d6d34938ee53bdfdf628febf3/tumblr_nlaexmM4TY1rqmy9yo1_250.gif);background-position: 25% 10%;"></div></div></center><div style="width: 308px; padding: 20px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 15px; line-height: 112%; text-align: center; color: b0aca8; margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 25px;"><fe>LET THE HURRICANE SET IN MOTION</fe></div>

He thrives on order and control; Patrick's death has plunged his life into chaos. There's no way to predict and control others, no way he could have prevented the catastrophe that had left him hospitalized, that had nearly <i>killed</i> him, and it's more stress than he needs.<p>

He imagines the tension in the air when he enters the pub, imagines their eyes on him to be judgemental and suspicious. He trusts few, closer to none, and a scowl adorns his lips as he sweeps toward the back room without a word to any of them.<p>

He hopes they fear him. He hopes they've all watched the news, heard of the disappearance, put the pieces together and formed <i>murder</i>. He wants them to know what happens to those who stand in his way.<p>

Of the few he trusts, Caleb is not one of them. Yet.<p>

He's early to their meeting, always early, for he likes to ensure he's always the first one there. It sets a standard and reminds him of his grandfather, of his omnipresence, the feeling that he was always right around the corner and ready to punish any wrong-doings. It's strange to think that he's gone, that man who'd been so influential in his life. <p>

<fe>"Shut the door,"</fe> he instructs when it opens, offering not a smile but a cold and scrutinizing stare. <fe>"Lock it. Did anyone see you come in?"</fe>
</div><div></center>[/dohtml]
Apr 18 2015, 09:11 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; padding: 50px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 11px; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; color: b0aca8;"><center><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background:#000;padding:5px;border:1px solid #121212;"><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/lHpFDTF.gif);background-position: 55% 20%;"></div></div></center><div style="width: 308px; padding: 20px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 15px; line-height: 112%; text-align: center; color: b0aca8; margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 25px;"><fe>SPREAD YOUR WINGS AND SAIL OUT TO ME</fe></div>

Even through a medicated haze, Joshua knows enough to be afraid. <i>"You were shot,"</i> they tell him, and he remembers the alarm, the gunshot, but not much else. He asks questions where he can and it doesn't sound good—<i>critical condition</i> is something they throw around a lot. It takes time to process the information and he's quiet, subdued, thinking.<p>

<fe>"My wife,"</fe> is one of the first things he says, <fe>"where is my wife?"</fe><p>

They tell him she's here, that she's been around, but that's not good enough for him. He's too drugged up to be angry but he summons as much force as he can to demand, <fe>"I want to see her,"</fe> insisting, <fe>"I don't care,"</fe> when they remind him of how much trauma he's been through. They tell him nothing about Nell, about what <i>she's</i> suffered during all this, and he's adamant. <fe>"I want to see her,"</fe> he repeats. <fe>"I'm fine."</fe><p>

The nurse arches a brow, tells him, "I'll let her know."<p>

He examines the equipment while he waits, reflects on how weak he feels as he lifts his arm to inspect the numerous IVs. He's hooked up to every machine they have, it seems, and he knows he'll feel it later. For now, there's nothing but a strong desire for Nell's companionship and the fear that lingers in the back of his mind.<p>

<i>Someone tried to kill me</i> and he's intelligent enough to understand that it wasn't a random home invasion, that it wasn't sheer bad luck, that the Syndicate is swarming under its new management. <i>If I don't pull it together soon, it'll fall apart, and then where will we be?</i><p>

Nell arrives as an immediate distraction from his thoughts and the breath sticks in his throat. There's a twist in his heart when he sees her and he can't find words, wanting nothing more than to get up and throw his arms around her, kiss her, hold her until the world fades around them.<p>

He can do none of this. He can do nothing but take her hand with a loose grip, tell her, <fe>"<i>Ti amo</i>,"</fe> or <i>I love you</i>. <fe>"Are you all right, <i>passerotta mia</i>?"</fe></div><div></center>[/dohtml]
Apr 18 2015, 06:39 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; padding: 50px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 11px; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; color: b0aca8;"><center><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background:#000;padding:5px;border:1px solid #121212;"><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background-image:url(http://33.media.tumblr.com/1acd58fde02ccf7a39f999d6b713adcb/tumblr_njsjsc1dLE1rqmy9yo9_250.gif);background-position: 45% 25%;"></div></div></center><div style="width: 308px; padding: 20px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 15px; line-height: 112%; text-align: center; color: b0aca8; margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 25px;"><fe>YOU KNEW BUT IT WAS NEVER SAFE</fe></div>

There's nothing like a burglar alarm to turn his sanctuary into a house of horrors. He's aware of every shadow, every subtle change in his surroundings as he loads his gun and keeps it ready, breath held and heart pounding loud in his ears. Nell's at work and his sister's out—he's alone to face the dangers, hoping it's just another raccoon rummaging through their trash, terrified that it's something else.<p>

He clears the second floor room-by-room and makes his slow descent to the first, cautious on the stairs. He swears he can hear movement and he tells himself <i>it'll just be the dogs, maybe Zerda's gotten into something</i> but the alarm's still screaming in his ears and he's not so sure.<p>

His phone vibrates in his pocket but goes ignored. <i>Not now.</i><p>

He's in the kitchen when he hears the shift of movement behind him, the draw of breath, but by the time he turns around it's far too late.<p>

A deafening <i>crack</i> is followed by the collapse, his own weapon slipping from his grasp as he stumbles back against the island, slides to the floor. His fingers are useless to staunch the bleeding and they're coated in red, his ears are ringing, his head is spinning, <i>fuck</i>...<p>

Someone's calling him, <i>Nell</i>, but his phone's out of reach. He tries to move, tries to concentrate but there's only the pain, so much <i>pain</i>, and his blood stains the kitchen tile as he closes his eyes, <i>fading</i>.

</div><div></center>[/dohtml]
Apr 18 2015, 02:11 PM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; padding: 50px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 11px; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; color: b0aca8;"><center><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background:#000;padding:5px;border:1px solid #121212;"><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background-image:url(http://33.media.tumblr.com/556ab11d6d34938ee53bdfdf628febf3/tumblr_nlaexmM4TY1rqmy9yo1_250.gif);background-position: 25% 10%;"></div></div></center><div style="width: 308px; padding: 20px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 15px; line-height: 112%; text-align: center; color: b0aca8; margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 25px;"><fe>TAKE MY HAND OR DON'T YOU TRUST ME?</fe></div>

He doesn't have much faith in magic. He knows its all a trick, all smoke and mirrors, but the crowd around the young man on the street corner gives him pause. <i>What's all this about?</i> They're gasping and laughing as he's finished some sort of trick and Josh frowns, thinks <i>bullshit</i>.<p>

"And you, over there, how about you?"<p>

Josh blinks when he's indicated, gesturing to himself and earning a nod from the magician. It's not his thing, not really, but curiosity gets the better of him and he steps up in the crowd. It feels like a challenge, a way to prove that magic is all illusion and that he can figure out the man's secrets while the rest of the crowd <i>oohs</i> and <i>ahhs</i>.<p>

He's not the only one who's been called into play and he frowns as he recognises the other man. <i>Hugo,</i> he recalls, for the Parkers have as much notoriety as the Dales, and he offers him a nod before turning, expectant, toward the magician. <i>What have you got?</I><p>

He takes a step back and shakes his head when the magician procures a set of handcuffs from his pocket. After two weeks in jail, he's had enough of them for a lifetime and this is the sort of thing he's <i>not</i> signing up for.<p>

<fe>"I'm out,"</fe> he insists, but it's too late and the cuff closes around his wrist, linking him to Hugo and committing them both to the display.</div><div></center>[/dohtml]
Apr 12 2015, 10:39 AM
[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 350px; padding: 50px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 11px; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; color: b0aca8;"><center><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background:#000;padding:5px;border:1px solid #121212;"><div style="height:120px;width:120px;border-radius:50%;background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/Gz1TC2j.gif);background-position: 70% 50%;"></div></div></center><div style="width: 308px; padding: 20px; border: solid 1px #121212; font-family: 'Roboto'; font-weight: 300; font-size: 15px; line-height: 112%; text-align: center; color: b0aca8; margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 25px;"><fe>TOE TO TOE, BACK TO BACK, LET'S GO<br>
MY LOVE, IT'S VERY LATE</fe></div>

It's strange how a place so familiar can feel so foreign.<p>

He knows all of the employees and most of the patrons—associates and soldiers mingling with the unassuming regulars. It should be a comfort, he supposes, but his skin is crawling as he tips back a shot.<p>

"You look like you could use some company."<p>

He doesn't know <i>her</i> and his eyes narrow at the approach. She stands too close and leans in too far and he knows what she's doing so he steps back with an expression of distaste.<p>

<fe>"Excuse me,"</fe> and it's flat. <fe>"I don't know you."</fe><p>

"We can fix that," she insists, smiling. "I'm Vanessa."<p>

Lifting his left hand, shot glass pinched between his fingers, he flashes the slim band he's sure she's already seen. <fe>"I'm <i>married</i>."</fe><p>

Vanessa looks around and lifts a carefully manicured brow, smile never faltering. She's pretty—beautiful, even—but she's not <i>Nell</i>.<p>

"Are you? I don't see your wife around."<p>

It's a parallel, a callback to a time long ago, and he might have laughed if he were anyone else. His eyes are cold. <fe>"She doesn't have to be."</fe></div><div></center>[/dohtml]
Last Visitors


Oct 6 2016, 11:14 PM




May 9 2015, 05:52 PM




May 3 2015, 12:00 PM



Comments
No comments posted.
Add Comment



affiliates

SKINNED EXCLUSIVELY FOR CTTC BY TAYLOR & STARK