sixthiterationlogs | with rabbit and dandelion and thistle

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with rabbit and dandelion and thistle

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Inn & Pub
WHEN: 3rd August
OPEN TO: E V E R Y O N E
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: OTA

It's been a couple weeks since Kate woke up and nearly drowned in that cursed fountain. She hasn't slept much, truth be told, and she's no closer to feeling like she's wearing proper clothes so she's still wearing her overalls instead of the given trousers, under that flimsy red blouse. Her curly hair is being combed with a fork and fixed as best she can. However, she has been paying attention. To the group and to the food situation. The group isn't exactly a community, but Miss Jo and her curtains of maps and skills have given Kate an idea.

(That, and honestly? The quietness of the inn's kitchen and main room is driving her to distraction.)

It takes time and it takes effort, Kate's idea of a communal lunch. She walks around, knocking on doors, and she asks, begs, flirts, lures-with-promise-of-hot-food people to arrive at midday. The hunters get asked if bring their game nice and early, those more inclined to gather or cook get asked to do that, and others... Well, she'd just like it if people turned up.

After so long being sulky, being this social again makes her sparkle.

With the help of some volunteers in the kitchen, by midday, the meal is ready. Really truly nothing fancy: rabbit stew with dandelions (flowers and plant both) and thistle (stems, leaves, roots and the young flowers) and some other wild herbs to flavour.

But it is food, and it is hot.

[ooc: Party-style post! Post starters in under the subheadings or make your own, volunteer your character to cook or clean or neither, and have fun!]

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Thorfinn had never been much of one to hang around kitchens. Most of his style of cooking was over an open fire. He didn't really understand a lot of the cook wear used in these strange houses the village had... and he had already broken a few dishes in Jo's hall trying to help her out.

So, he felt a little strange making his way into the kitchen of the inn. He had been looking for Kate, dropping off a pre-skinned hare and some wild herbs he had found. The blonde man took in the sight of the other's in the kitchen. Already feeling a little out of place he moved to place the hare down where ever the rest of the meat that wasn't in the pot was. He felt a little bad for running behind.

Seeing the man stirring at the large pot he quietly made his way over. Thorfinn was a smaller man than Cougar, only about five foot four, and his scars showed both on his arms and one down his right cheek. He pushed one of his loose blond braids back out of his face as he neared the man he hadn't met yet.

"Hello." He spoke, his voice thick with a heavy Scandinavian accent. He knew Jo wanted him to be social, so he was trying.

Cougar affords the man a nod of his head, studying him curiously. Cougar isn't that tall himself, but this man is still at least five inches shorter than him, judging from the hollow to toe. He gestures to the braid down the man's back, an approving glint in his eyes. "I like it," is what he says when he speaks, voice rough from disuse.

"Maybe you can do mine?" he suggests, prying off his cap to run his fingers through his hair (which is growing longer and longer, without a cut).

He understood most of the words the other spoke and gave a sheepish look before nodding. "Not good." he spoke pointing back since his two braids were both kind of loose. He was willing to try but without anything to properly tie all back it seemed a bit awkward.

Still, he nodded, responding with a simple word. "Yes." As long as the other didn't mind it might not be the best he was willing to try. He should have learned to do it better in his youth but time never allowed for it.

Cougar glances at it and gestures for the man to come closer, miming doing the weaving and braiding motion with his own hands to offer his services to him while the soup cooks. He doesn't actually have to do anything apart from sit and wait, so he thinks it won't harm him to do a kindness for a stranger.

"And then you do mine."

"Yes. Will do." he spoke the english word. Yes and No he was getting very good with. He moved closer and turned. It was strange to turn his back to someone but it was a show of trust. He wasn't sure if the other would want him to kneel or stand so he remained standing. His blonde hair went down past the middle of his back, but it was well cared for. As well as a viking could do anyway.

He wondered if he would be better with someone elses hair than his own. It made enough sense to him.

Cougar gives a firm nod, pleased when the man comes to sit in front of him. He leans forward, prying off his baseball cap to set it aside as he extends his fingers before he works on beginning to plait and braid the hair in neat, firm braids that suit a man like this. He's quiet as he does so, reaching over every once in a while to stir the soup before returning to his task.

Finally, finished, he tucks the loose hairs under themselves so they won't fall out, giving a nod as he taps the man on the shoulder. "Done," he informs him, grateful for the exercise for his fingers.

When he has the man's attention, he lays his palm flat over his chest to indicate himself. "Cougar."

Thorfinn stayed still the whole while, moving only as needed to make the braiding easier for Cougar. He had a lot of patience being from a time before television and such. When the man tapped his shoulder and said done, Thorfinn shifted to push himself back to his feet in a fluid motion, turning to face Cougar as he finished standing.

Thorfinn nodded his thanks. "Many Thanks." he spoke before motioning to himself then. "Thorfinn." He returned the introduction. He could tell the man seemed to have the same issue he had, a language barrier. Thorfinn shifted his hand. "You now." he spoke motioning to Cougar's hair and moved to stand behind him. "English no good." He spoke as he moved back to run his fingers through the others hair to separate it so he could get started. He usually faced people when he spoke to them. reading their body language and facial expressions to help him understand.

"It's okay. Neither is mine," Cougar replies. He can get by, but the truth is that he much prefers to speak silently and let Jake interpret all of his silences and his expressions because Spanish is much easier for him at any given time. He shifts his head forward, eyes falling shut at the contact. He misses his hat a great deal and he's infamously touchy about people touching it, but there's also a part of him that could simply fade away into pleasure at a touch to his hair and scalp.

He grunts softly in approval as Thorfinn works, thinking that he will have to explain to Jake later, but it will help keep it out of his face.

Thorfinn got the jist of it. The other man's English wasn't the best either. And it shouldn't make him smile, but it does. He's not alone in his strange isolation. While he still curses himself for not making his sworn brother teach him English, it's alright. He'll get by.

His fingers move a little more sure as he starts on the top to braid it back, it's easier doing someone else's hair than his own. Given enough practice he would get better, but at least with someone else's hair he could see to do it tighter and less bits hanging free.

Much like when Cougar finished his he flips the hair at the end to keep it from slipping free. "No bad." He spoke once he let go of the other's hair. It took a few minutes easily but at least it would keep it contained.

Cougar gives Thorfinn an appreciative nod, his palm over his heart to offer thanks as he tips his head side to side to test it out. "Thank you," he says, giving Thorfinn a gesture towards the stew. He knows that everyone needs to enjoy it at some point, but after the favour given to him, he thinks he should offer the first taste.

"Do you want a bowl?"

Thorfinn nodded in return as he moved from behind him now to move back where he stood. He never quite got Your welcome down. so he mirrored Cougar's motion, a hand lifted to his chest and a quick bow of his head. It had been his way of protecting application since arriving as well. Some words just were not sticking.

"Ja...Yes." He always tried to speak his language first, catching himself first. "Please." He added after a moment. Curious as he waited he decided to ask the question many had asked him. "Where from?" He motioned to the other.

Cougar hasn't thought about home in a very long time, but before the army, he and his family had settled in California, but he'd been born in Mexico. This is as far from home as he can imagine, but he doesn't know how to explain that with limited English between them. And so, instead, he pours stew into the bowl and offers it with a spoon.

"Not here," he says. "Not this time. I was away from home," he says. "For work."

Thorfinn took the bowl and spoon and nodded in thanks. He was always appreciative of food. It was his biggest weakness always had been. Even when he was a boy and full of rage food always made him at least civil.

He knew the words Cougar spoke, and once more nodded. "Work." He nodded, and a thought bloomed. "Warrior?" it would given reason to be away, if Cougar was a raider like he used to be. He lifted the hand with the spoon towards himself. "I from Iceland." He spoke the words together as he scrunched his face trying to think of the right words. "Gone long of home." Half of his sorrow in this new found world was that he had only JUST returned home when he was pulled here. It didn't matter that he was planning on leaving soon after, someone or something took that choice from him.

He finally lifted the spoon and took a bite, his face lit up a bit, yeah. He liked it.

"Yes. Warrior." It's a much kinder word for what he'd done than he would apply himself, seeing as he doesn't think too highly of the work he'd been sent to do. Sometimes, the trigger is easy to pull. Other times, he'd needed to completely shut down his mind in order to get the job done. And then, there are times, just sometimes, when you don't even make the choice and people die.

Bolivia, he thinks.

Port of LA.

"Are you a warrior?"

Thorfinn nodded while he worked on the soup. He didn't bother moving away just yet. He was enjoying being able to talk to someone even if it wasn't much it felt easier to death with knowing the other man wasn't very good at it either.

"Used to be." He answered honestly. "no more, sick of it." There was a sadness in his tone. Part of him would never forget the rush of it all. Ten years of taking lives and standing respected among men, then falling so far so fast.. he learned humility, he learned to be humble, and to hate what once was all he lived for.

"New life, new try." He spoke after a few seconds looking for the right words.

Cougar doesn't know what retiring permanently would be like. Bolivia had been putting his head down so his nightmares didn't consume and destroy him. The doll factory hadn't been anyone's dream job, but it had suited him fine for the short while.

"Why?" is his only question, his only demand. "How did you stop?"

He understood Cougar's question, it was one he needed to sit the bowl down and think about a second. Crossing his arms he made a bit of a perplexed face. He knew why he had stopped, he knew he no longer wanted the blood on his hands either, not human blood anyway. Yet, how to express that without sounding like a coward.

Being a coward was shameful, yet it seemed the truth in this situation. A Norsemen sick of violence was one who would be jeered by his peers and his family shunned. So, he decided it best to say what he could in the best English he could.

"King sold me." He spoke the three words that held heavy pain and truth to them. "Not allowed to fight on farm, Thralls not allowed. Now free again." He motioned to himself, he was free even here. A slave no more. "No more to hurt people. Tired of it." In truth he was always tired anymore, but he does his best to push on.

Cougar understands that, a little more than he likes to think about. After all, he's been seeing nothing but death and blood on his hands, and he doesn't think that he could do it much more. Not after everything that happened and the guilt that's sitting on his shoulders. "And how does it feel?" he asks, because he wants to know if it's as freeing as he could imagine it would be.

"Bad." The one word was an answer as he shifted his brown eyes back towards Cougar after looking at the floor a moment. He leaned back on the counter or stove, whatever was closest. "Not good." It was honest and humble, things he had learned on the farm. He didn't need to hide behind a cold bravado anymore. Being hollowed out had been the best thing that happened to him. He had learned to live again.

"Not fighting, not killing, makes coward." He spoke, a hint of sadness at it. "Cowards shunned. Better sunned than killing." He lifted a hand to his chest. "I have no enemies." He had been practicing his father's old speech to him the more English he learned, the more he felt it was important to say. A pacifist Viking, he was an odd one, even without it.

"Cowards are people who do dishonorable things," he says, because his definition of coward is different. It's names like Max and Roque who were too weak and cowardly to take the right way out. It's the men who decided to follow dollars instead of principles and ended up taking lives for no good reason.

It's cowardice that sent twenty-five children to heaven while Cougar watched his decision burn up in front of him.

"No fighting here," he reassures. "No cowards. Only men."

"Dishonorable." He spoke making a face. "No honor, yes?" He knew honorable but he hadn't heard dishonorable, yet. He was still learning. Picking up all he could.

Thorfinn had done a lot of bad in his day, sometimes woman and children got killed in raids, but generally he had tried to warn woman away before the hordes would arrive. He had been eccentric even before he fell on bad days. He could never condone the death of so many young children. That was a type of cowardice that was very dishonorable.

He nodded some to the words of the other. It was easy enough to understand to follow. It was easier to talk to Cougar, the simple English was easier for him to follow. "Ja, I hope." He unfolded his arms and offered over a hand to shake. "Pleased to meet, Cougar."

Cougar gives a firm, emphatic nod of his head to confirm that they're dishonorable men and they don't deserve pity. They don't even deserve prayers, no matter how many years he might have spent with one of them. He reaches out to shake the man's hand, a tight grip as he shakes it. "You, as well, Thorfinn," he says, gesturing to the braid.

"Maybe I will come ask you to do this again." After all, it would keep it out of the way from hunting. "Where did you learn it?"

Edited 2016-08-12 00:51 (UTC)

He nodded in return, his mind drifting back to Askeladd's crew, the mutiny, how he slaughtered quiet a few of his old companions when they turned on Askeladd. He never felt a drop of guilt for it. They were dogs meant to be put down, offering to steal the prince away to save their own hides. He knew they couldn't be in Valhalla. He never could stand them anyway... Some of the deaths he cause he couldn't feel bad about, those were a few of them. "Dishonorable, they no go to Valhalla." He spoke with a firm nod, he didn't know the man's religion, but his own was important to him.

Thorfinn shook in return before taking his hand back, and scratching at his cheek a little, a sheepish almost shy move. "Okay." He responded before nodded, he could do so more, he could use the practice to get his own braiding better to. "Watched many over years, warriors braid." He tried to explain. "me not much, need improve."

Cougar thinks that he won't go to Valhalla either, but his own assessment of his personal sins isn't a topic of conversation he has with his best friends, let alone strangers he's just met. So he gives a grunt and a noise, thinking that he could use some absolution, himself.

"Warriors braid," he echoes, gesturing to himself. He feels oddly touched at the gift of such a thing and Cougar knows that it means more to him than he can say. "Shame you can't give Jake one," he says, gesturing to the man.

He hadn't exactly meant it the way his words expressed, his english was still barebones and he was never the best at turn of phrase. Still he have a clue his meaning was lost in translation he just offers a half smile and a nod.

"Who Jake?" He hadn't had his sit down with Jake yet, but a friend of this man's seemed like someone he'd not mind knowing.

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