December/spring catch-all

[feralheart]

WHO: M-21 and anyone!
WHAT: Open + catchall
WHEN: All spring
WHERE: All over the island
WARNINGS: none, TBA if needed. Plotting here!


i. what do you mean 'consequences'

[ On one specific, highly cursed day this month, M-21 can be found lurking forlornly outside the island's little clinic. An internal war seems to be going on; he takes a grudging step towards the doors, then stalks away again. As if unaware he's doing it, he reaches down to rub irritably at his lower back. Maybe someone's a little less suited for farm work than everyone else? ]

This is so stupid.

[ He shoots a mutinous look up at the sky like he'd like to direct a complaint right to the management but doesn't quite dare. Then he's back to his pacing, with an occasional sideways glance thrown in towards the vet. Or he can be found draped somewhat pathetically over the nearest fence-shaped thing he can find, apparently no longer willing to move.

Help. ]

ii. like herding cats

[ On days when the weather is sunny and cooperative, despite all complaints, M-21 is hard at work in his fields. Reluctant concessions to farmcore have been made to spare what's left of his suit, and a sturdy pair of farming gloves covering his hands well past the wrist spare what's left of his palms from the sub-par farming tools. Things are coming in pretty nicely, especially the new stand of trees. They're full-grown and leafy and already showing a crop of... one fluffy orange kitten with oversized paws perched on a branch, chirruping furiously. ]

You got yourself up there.

[ Rescue? Or wait another few seconds to catch M-21 sighing and stripping off his gloves as he goes to climb a tree for what appears to be the five hundredth time that day. ]

iii. wildcard

[ Catch me on my planning link or PM if you want a starter! I welcome any and all bingos or just chaos. Or just hit me with anything, he'll be Around. ]

Comments

[feralheart]

[ M-21's expression brightens when he spots the matches, then turns sheepish. The only downside of spending time with competent people is having his nose inadvertently rubbed in his own shortsightedness. ]

Alright. Sounds simple enough.

[ Not that he brought something to dig with, either. But with a quick glance to see if Syrlya is occupied, he flexes his fingers and turns his nails into claws to start cutting through the grass down through the soil. Overkill, but it makes quick work of the job. ]

You've done this a lot?

[chronosynthesis]

Mmhmm. When the next town or waypoint is days away, it is important to know how to survive. Even creatures that do not eat plants may respond to movement.

[Also, starvation sucks a lot worse than things tasting bad.] But we should be safe here, and the farms are only a few minutes away. I know someone on this side well if we did need any assistance.

[feralheart]

Waypoints. Trahearne mentioned those. What's the point of teleportation if you have to hike all the way to them anyway?

[ He's clearing out a good-sized space pretty rapidly, brushing the dirt smooth and eyeing his handiwork. ]

Safe enough, probably. I don't think the goddess would've put us down in the woods with something that would eat us.

[ ...Or so he says, but he casts a kind of suspicious glance towards the trees again when he thinks he sees movement. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya looks up, expression twisting with amusement.] It is not easy magic. The Asuran gate system needs a physical anchor somewhere, so it is mostly used to connect cities, trade hubs, or havens along the roads. Not so much if you're deep in the desert.

[He circles the camp spot to pick up a few more rocks, until he thinks he has enough, and then returns to the pit.] You've cleared that well.

[feralheart]

Oh. He could've said that. [ M-21 coughs a little sheepishly into his fist. Was that what all that "aetherically" or whatever nonsense meant? Anyway, ] Could use something like that here, anyway. Everything's on foot.

[ But he perks up a little at the praise and sits back, dusting dirt off his hands. ] That everything we need?

[chronosynthesis]

Everything except the wood. [He starts to set the stones along the rim of the dirt.] I don't believe it has rained recently, so finding the wood dry shouldn't be an issue. Sticks, branches, pieces of bark...

[feralheart]

I brought some bigger pieces. Figured the goddess might not like us chopping up pieces of the woods here. [ Look who's devout all of a sudden! He goes to unroll the messy bundle of Stuff he brought tied up in a blanket. ] I'll find some smaller stuff to start.

[chronosynthesis]

[Would the goddess have an issue with them cutting up trees? Surely the homes will need to be kept warm somehow in the winter, unless it just never gets cold.]

I'll look as well. About this long is good. [He holds his hands roughly a foot apart.] We don't want them too short or too long.

[feralheart]

Got it. Us burning the woods down would probably be more of a problem than borrowing some trees.

[ M-21 looks up to compare, then nods, trotting off a short distance to start rummaging for bark and sticks. The 'fetch' joke practically writes itself. ]

[chronosynthesis]

Mm, yes. [Also because a forest fire would probably take them with it.

He doesn't wander too far to find suitable sticks and chunks of bark. What he brings back, he stacks up in a careful pile, dusting a couple dead leaves at the very top to help jumpstart the fire.]

[feralheart]

[ Also that little problem, yes.

There's a muffled yelp, and the sound of M-21 throwing a stick with possibly unnecessary force. But he's back a moment later to contribute his own little offerings to Syrlya's pile, looking just a little ruffled. ]

So... how do you usually pass the time when you're camping.

[ Please don't ask about the yelp. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya jerks his attention up when he hears M-21 yelp, staring as he waits for some explanation... but he doesn't see what it was about.]

Well... there's talking. The trees are a big dense for looking at the stars, but we may see some wildlife approach. [He carefully tests the sticks as the rest are added, then moves to strike a match against a rock and start the campfire.

[feralheart]

Starwatching. I've got that one on my card too. But Ellis said it was one a day. [ With one person, anyway. He gives a little shrug. ]

There's definitely some wildlife around. Campfire might scare it off. [ Which will leave them with the talking, clearly M-21's strong suit. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Starwatching. Close enough. As the fire sparks, he drops the match on top of the sticks and then scoots back to sit at a safe distance.] Unless they have become acclimated to people. I suppose we'll see.

[feralheart]

[ M-21 leans in with some fascination to watch the fire catch, though he shoots a quick glance at the night around them. ]

Then I'll run it off if anything annoying turns up. [ Like a bear. Or that damn wolf. ] ...That wasn't so hard. You're good at that.

[chronosynthesis]

Thank you. [He doesn't consider it doing much, but he won't argue.

He rests one arm over his leg, getting comfortable.] So, what sort of world do you come from? Anything like this one?

[feralheart]

Hn. Earth. If this is Earth. [ He sighs, and preemptively adds: ] The planet, not the... ground. I've never seen the countryside like this, but I guess it's about the same. You from Tyria too?

[chronosynthesis]

The planet is called Earth? [That's kind of a boring name, why would you name your planet 'dirt'?]

I am, yes, same as Trahearne. [Though of a... different year. But that seems like a lot to get into with M-21.] We are friends and siblings.

[feralheart]

I didn't name it. [ He knows, he knows. He keeps hearing this from off-world people. ]

...Siblings? By blood? [ A moment belated, he realizes that expression might not quite apply on plant-people. ] You don't look much alike.

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya chuckles.] No, rarely do we look so similar except for twins. But my people all come from the same mother tree.

[Mostly. Anyone whose existence is acknowledged in the open.]

[feralheart]

All? Then how many siblings do you have? [ The mental image he is having right now... this 'mother tree' must make Trahearne look tiny. ]

[chronosynthesis]

Thousands. [They haven't really kept up with specific numbers very well, though. Syrlya knows least of all with how far he's wandered.] Trahearne was--is the oldest of us. He and eleven others make up the Firstborn that awoke years before the rest.

[feralheart]

[ He cocks his head a little at that 'was,' frowning a tiny bit. ]

Either he's older or he's not. [ ...Probably. The other reason for past tense doesn't make sense. ] How old are you, anyway?

[chronosynthesis]

Ten years. [Give ot take a season, but long enough he only starts updating his age by the year now.] Trahearne is older, for sure. He is Firstborn.

[feralheart]

Ten? [ Trees... grow fast. Alright. Tree lore will continue overwhelming M-21 until further notice but he'll get there. ] Huh. You seem older. By human standards. Or your years are long.

[ Firstborn, though. ] ...So he's important? Or just special.