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

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya leans back, propped on one hand as he glances back to M-21.] My duty to Tyria meant constant danger and movement. So long as the Elder Dragons existed I needed to fight them.

[He looks up into the trees.] I couldn't very well ask someone to follow me into that, or wait an undetermined time until my Wyld Hunt was over. So I never looked for it.

[feralheart]

[ It takes him a few blinks to translate that into terms he understands, but when he does, he gives a little shrug of provisional agreement. ]

So you have an enemy you couldn't have risked someone you cared about around. Makes sense. [ He frowns and stares into the fire in thought. ] Puts your life on hold until you're done with that Hunt. But you can't always pick your fights.

[chronosynthesis]

[Hm, he never thought about it as putting his life on hold--his Wyld Hunt was his life. It was simply a different trajectory than most people.

His expression twists wryly.] No, you really can't. But it was a fight for a brighter future for all of Tyria.

[feralheart]

Pretty big job, for one person. [ A whole planet? Is it his sense of scale that's broken, or everyone else's here? ] Trahearne didn't mention the dragons.

[ Which still sound like a fantasy thing to him, but he's talking to plant people, so... not quibbling. ]

[chronosynthesis]

I didn't really do it alone. It took all of us coming together, of course. [And Aurene.] I simply needed to play my part.

Trahearne was also central to that fight, but--I suppose it must not have come up?

[feralheart]

Probably. We didn't talk that long. He was explaining the waystones.

[ And a pause, as he tries to decide if "Trahearne is a nerd (positive)" is a concept that Syrlya will recognize. As a compromise: ]

He didn't seem like a fighter.

[chronosynthesis]

Oh, he is much more powerful on the battlefield than he seems. [It's kind of hot.] But he is a scholar first. Pursuing knowledge is more of a comfort to him than war.

[feralheart]

[ Sir you're doing it again... the "Trahearne is special and important" voice... M-21 tips his head a tiny bit the other way. ]

He should do alright here. [ ... ] You're a fighter. You hear any animals nearby?

[chronosynthesis]

[He's doing better than Syrlya expected. And better than Syrlya himself is doing.

He cants his head, pausing. Despite the length of his ears, his hearing isn't any better than most humans.] Mm, none that are approaching at least. Crickets, sure.

[feralheart]

Yeah. Me neither. [ He slumps a tiny bit, either relief or just tired. ] Seems like there's really nothing out here.

[ His hearing might be better than a human's, but who knows if it's giving him reliable information right now. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya hums in agreement, leaning over to start digging through his back for the dried snacks he brought.] Are you hungry?

[feralheart]

[ That's a much better thing to focus on than phantom wolves. M-21 nods and reaches for his own pack. ] Yeah. I brought marshmallows because the locals said. What've you got?

[chronosynthesis]

Oh, just some grain and jerky that was available at the farmhouse. Marshmallows sound much more appealing.

[Even he has to acknowledge the plainest possible granola and some jerky isn't terribly appealing.] We could toast them over the fire.

[feralheart]

Jerky? [ M-21 pauses to perk up a little, then extends the bag of marshmallows in offer. ] We can do both. They told me to bring those little sticks, too.

[ So they are now equipped for toasting, and for fighting extremely flimsy vampires. ]

[chronosynthesis]

Oh, that's wonderful. [Syrlya pulls the jerky out, offering it to M21 in a trade as he hands over the marshmallows.] Have you ever done that before, roasting marshmallows? I haven't, but I have heard of it.

[feralheart]

[ A very good trade. M-21 is doing his very best not to imitate a dog treats ad as he accepts the jerky. ]

I haven't. We just stick them in the fire? [ Seems like they'd melt, but... ] So you eat about the same kinds of things humans do.

[chronosynthesis]

Wondering about that, were you? [His expression twists wryly.] But to your question, yes, they go on a stick over the fire until they develop a burn.]

[feralheart]

[ M-21 digs out the sticks too, proffering one to Syrlya. ] Not like I think you eat people, or anything. Just wondering if you were managing here.

[ Was that rude... it was probably rude. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya chuckles, sticking two marshmallows at the end of one stick.] I appreciate your concern, but I'm all right.

[He sticks the marshmallows into the top of the fire.] You seem to be doing well for yourself.

[feralheart]

[ M-21 helps himself to some of the jerky as he observes the marshmallow technique. Not that hard...

He gives Syrlya a startled little look for his observation. ] Do I? ...I guess. It's not dangerous here. And I'm good at surviving.

[chronosynthesis]

But you're doing more than just surviving? I don't think many have decided to forego the goddess and scrape off the land alone.

[feralheart]

[ With a wry glance at the specter haunting the corner of his vision: ] Wouldn't say I'm forgoing the goddess. The farming is easier than I thought it would be, though.

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya nods once, turning the stick to roast the other side of the marshmallows.] The start is easy, but the hard part will be ensuring everything grows.

[feralheart]

Would've thought the goddess would take care of that part. But if she could, she probably wouldn't have needed us in the first place.

[ M-21 finally picks up a stick to stake a marshmallow himself. What's the worst he can do, set it on fire? ]

[chronosynthesis]

Mmhmm. [And then she'll take care of it anyway, so...

He draws his stick back, inspecting his toasted marshmallows before he blows to cool them and takes a bite. It is sticky, and he fumbles to try and get some of it off his lip gently before it dries there.]