fishermansweater: (Jacket side-eye)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
WHO: Finnick Odair + his peacock
WHERE: The 6I park
WHEN: August 3
WARNINGS: Baby peacock being ridiculous. Probably mentions of mental health and anxiety later on.

he's a peacock, a total preener --> fountain park

There's been an escape.

There'd been another aftershock, and after he'd calmed Annie down, Finnick had gone outside to check on the birds, only to find another hole in the fence. He'd thought he'd patched it up before he'd gone back to Annie, but he's come out again to find that Star, the oldest of the peacocks, is on the other side of the fence, and making his determined way down the path towards the village.

Finnick curses and turns, rapidly, to pull open the door of the house and shout in to Annie.

"Star's gotten out, can you check the fence?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, only hopes she's heard him before he's off down the road after the blue and brown bird. Hearing Finnick behind him prompts the bird to take off, skimming low over the bushes at the side of the road and leaving Finnick to chase after him.

They're halfway to the village by the time Star lands again, and the bird doesn't seem inclined to let Finnick catch up. Every time he gets close enough to reach out to catch the bird, Star flutters away out of reach and continues on down the path. They've made it all the way to the park before Star finally stops trying to actually run away and starts contentedly pecking at the grass, looking for something to eat. Finnick gives up the pursuit, too, and sits down on the edge of the fountain.

Perhaps he should consider trying to make some sort of leash or harness for the bird so he can't get away. He always carries some of the nylon cable he'd acquired around with him, so he'd be able to, but he's not sure about whether it's even possible to leash a bird. The propaganda films at home about agriculture in District 10 had never said much about poultry.

While Finnick watches, Star stares at the fountain, then turns around, slowly, holding out its wings, tail held straight up in the air. His tail is quivering, displaying the stubs of feathers that haven't yet grown in.

"You've got a while before you'll make it in the Capitol," Finnick says, eyeing the bird.

fishermansweater: (The hat is *good*)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: House #57
WHEN: July 8thish
OPEN TO: Beverly Crusher
WARNINGS: Mental health type things

He's tried to stay close to home since the earthquakes started. A few people have stopped by to check in on Annie, and he's not sure how he feels about that: pleased that they're concerned about her, or worried that it's an attempt to manipulate her. And, whichever it is, there's the concern it will lead to a reputation spreading here like she has at home: the mad girl, broken, crazy, not to be taken seriously.

In Panem, that reputation had its benefits, because it shielded her from the worst of what happens to victors, and it keeps her out of the yearly trips to the Capitol for the Games. But in the eyes of the nation, like Finnick is a beautiful, shallow rake sleeping his way into wealth, Annie is fragile, mad, pitiable.

He doesn't know how to stop that happening, especially when the truth is that so much of his time since the earthquakes started has been spent in taking care of Annie, doing chores around the house, making sure there is enough food for her and him and Peeta.

It unsettles him, knowing how vulnerable she must seem, so Finnick does his best to make sure that everything looks as normal as possible. Which is why today, he's outside, hauling a big plastic bucket full of water into the yard, and settling it into a slight hole in the ground, with two geese trailing him curiously.

"There. I refilled it for you," he tells the birds as he turns around in time to see someone approaching up the road.
caelus: (pic#11477088)
[personal profile] caelus
WHO: Jim Kirk
WHERE: Around the village, after the earthquake.
WHEN: Backdated to July 1st and 2nd and onward.
OPEN TO: All except otherwise marked.
WARNINGS: Mild injuries. Will update if necessary.

jump to warp. )
treadswater: (Default)
[personal profile] treadswater
WHO: Annie Cresta
WHERE: #House 57
WHEN: 2nd, 3rd and 6th July
OPEN TO: Finnick Odair, Beverly Crusher, Natasha Romanoff and Percival Graves
NOTES: Most starters in the comments
WARNINGS: Anxiety - disordered thinking, intrusive thoughts, etc. Potential panic-attack, discussion of Panem.

2nd July | Finnick Odair

She has to watch. )
bewaretheniceboy: (the ruse is through)
[personal profile] bewaretheniceboy
WHO: Peeta Mellark
WHERE: Village in general, bakery, riverbank
WHEN: June 8, 9, and 10
OPEN TO: Anyone
WARNINGS: It's Peeta, so there's always possibilities of the Games coming up, especially now

( June 8, Village )

When he'd woken up that morning, it had been with his heart hammering in his chest and a barely contained panic. The symptoms weren't at all unfamiliar to him after a year: a nightmare, a bad one, the kind that made it impossible to ever think things could be good again, and he turned to look at Katniss like he always did to reassure himself that they were okay, that they were safe (relatively, at least), and-

She wasn't there.

He hadn't panicked at first; sometimes she woke up before him and went out to do different things. Sometimes the hunting or tracking was better in the early day for reasons he didn't understand. But she'd always show up for lunch, at least long enough to grab something she could eat as she moved if she didn't stay for an actual meal, and this time she didn't... He'd left Jacob in the bakery to go check the house and see if she was there, and that was when he'd found that almost all traces of her had vanished. There was only one set of the clothing and supplies that people carried with them up from the fountain, only one scrubs top. The bow and arrows she'd been shaping were still there but nothing that had been supplied to them. As much as Katniss liked the woods, she wouldn't have packed up everything and run away to them, not without giving something away.

All of that means that Peeta goes into a mild frenzy and immediately into search and rescue mode, crutches be damned. Katniss is far from the most social person in the village, but she's been there long enough to still be familiar to most people, and anyone he runs into is likely going to be a target for that question of Where is she? whether he knows them or not. His first target is, of course, the inn and anyone there, but he spirals out around the village as well as he can while still being limited in mobility, getting more panicked as the day drags on.

( June 9, Bakery )

He can't search the woods in his condition and he's angry about that on a level no one in the village has seen from him, but he's not stealthy to begin with and a broken leg, even one that's mostly healed, makes him even worse. There's still two weeks, give or take, before the rigid brace can come off his leg and he can drop the crutches, and while he's gotten pretty good at dealing with them in the village, that's still somewhere with places for him to stop and sit and rest and convenient water and loads of other things. There is literally just nothing he can do right now that other people can't do better than him, so Peeta is pouring that anger and energy he has into doing something that's at least productive, mixing up, rolling out, and cutting down batches of pasta which he hangs to dry on a series of branches he'd carefully washed before using. It's very basic, just flour, water, and a little salt, but it's more food for people to eat and something to say "thank you" to everyone who wanted to help him or even commiserate with him. Even worried and angry he wasn't about to make things worse for the rest of the village residents, not when they all needed each other to get through this.

( June 10, River )

Two solid nights of terror have taken a toll on Peeta and he knows it's not really going to get any easier, though he also knows he'll reluctantly get used to it the longer it goes, and he just needs a day away from the normal haunts he'd established within the village. In case something happens, though, he's not gone all that far: just down to the river, not near the waterfall since that's the most popular area, but downstream from it a little to enjoy the cooler air around the moving water. The way it's drained reminds Peeta a little too much of when the Gamemakers had drained the stream in the 74th Games to herd them towards Cato and the finale, but it has uncovered a small cluster of rocks that make good seating for someone who can't swim. He's brought his pencils and one of the books he's working on to continue his project, the one that's a record of all the residents. The pages are opened to a certain entry and as the water swirls by he carefully begins embellishing it, adding more words and details to the sketch there, slowly and lovingly. Katniss' entry, of course; she almost looks as if she's staring at him from the page. He's entirely wrapped up in his work and oblivious to anyone coming up on him.
zomboligist: (oookay)
[personal profile] zomboligist
WHO: Ravi Chakrabarti
WHERE: Inn, near the Kitchen
WHEN: June 3rd
OPEN TO: All! Mingle post!

There's another one of those strange boxes sitting on the porch of their home when Ravi gets up to another scorching, awful day. He's not sure what switch they hit to get this sort of weather, but he wants them to take it back, seeing as he's been sweating so much that he has to do laundry practically every day to cope with the ridiculousness of it. He can't go shirtless because he has absolutely no will to show everyone the out of shape disappointment that it his torso.

He bends to pick up the box and bring it inside, but hisses when his fingers contact something frosty cold at the bottom of the box. Opening it in a hurry, his eyes widen and he tugs the box to his chest as best as he can, taking off in a completely ungraceful run, heading straight for the inn and shouting as he goes. "Ice cream!" he says, like the world's skeeviest ice cream truck on legs, luring children in after him. "Ice cream, there's ice cream, it's going to melt," he warns, because there are six tubs of it, but he fears that in this heat, it's not going to last very long at all. Scientifically, he knows that it's just going to be calories that generate heat, but science can go take a backseat.

He unloads the toppings and the various six flavours (ranging from vanilla to chocolate, cookie dough, mint chocolate chip, butter pecan, and even a treasured cherry garcia), the sprinkles and peanuts going with the caramel and hot fudge sauces. He could weep because there are even serving spades, bowls, and spoons. He knows he ought to be wary about food after the whole chocolate poisoning incident (if it really was the chocolate), but it's just so hot and he's just so hungry.

He'll chance it, because if he doesn't, he just gets some delicious flavoured ice cream soup soon.
fishermansweater: (Beautiful smile)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: Woods and waterfall
WHEN: June 1
OPEN TO: Annie Cresta
WARNINGS: Nothing yet
STATUS: Ongoing

Finnick has been thinking about what Johanna said. He's been thinking about it a lot, like the mere mention of the idea of marriage unlocked something in him that made him want the forbidden, the thing that had always been denied to him. He's had to teach himself a lot about refusing to admit to things he wants since he became a victor. Ironic, since the victors were always supposed to be the ones who had everything they could ever want thanks to the generosity of the Capitol, but that was never any more than another lie.

He's been thinking, so much that he's a little distracted by the idea, by imagining how it could happen, what he could say to Annie, how he could make Johanna's certainty into reality. He's also spent a lot of time imagining the things that could happen if he tries, because he can't let go so many years of terror about daring to choose his own lover, his own future. But as the weeks passed and nothing happened to either him or Johanna, he started to try to really believe it could happen, if he could find a way.

The first step came when Moana showed him how to make a fine, pale cord out of the stalks of a plant she'd discovered in the wood. He found another stand of it to use himself, harvested it, and set to work secretly making lengths of finer and finer cordage until he thought he had something he could use to weave a ring. He remembered the way Johanna had said that Annie would be happy with a ring he made, and how uneasy her judgment of Annie's taste had made him, but it was true. What would matter would be that he'd made her something.

The next thing is to work out how to actually start the conversation with Annie. The inspiration comes from an unlikely source, when he stops by Jyn's house to take her some fish and finds that she's gone three days in a row. There's no sign of her when he goes inside, all her things abandoned, none of the fish he's left over the last few days collected when she returned from wherever she'd been. Her house is, to all appearances, untouched for the last few days, and she hasn't brought him and Annie any food either.

She's gone.

Which is why Finnick takes some time to look around her now-empty house for things that might be useful, and comes away with a hank of cord and, after some consideration, a telescope. Annie loves the stars, she always has, always felt them linked with the sort of freedom the Capitol denies its subjects. So he takes the telescope, and that night, he goes to bed early, so that he can wake up before the ever-earlier dawn. It's still dark when he wakes up, and he dresses quietly in the green suit and black boots he'd recently found, and slips what he'll need into his backpack.

"Annie," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed near her. "Annie, I'm going out to check my traps early. Want to come with me?"
maternis: (pic#11116489)
[personal profile] maternis
WHO: Newt Scamander
WHERE: outside gathering animals during the storm, helping people into the town hall (if need be), and at graves' house.
WHEN: backdated to the 14th when the hailstorm began
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: Just an extremely introverted magizoologist who prefers the company of all things not human.
STATUS: Open, save for the closed starter that is marked.

Gathering the animals:

It had been quite an eventful month, thus far. While he was still making due with feeling as though he had lost a sense with having no access to his magical abilities at all. Still, he did much as he usually did. He kept to himself mostly, though Carol had insisted that Percival was to be visited quite regularly. She had become rather attached, and so he had started to come to the village more regularly than he had in the previous months. Mostly, it was to check in to see if anything had changed with Credence, say hello to Tina and Queenie in brief, and Jacob as well.

He had been in the relative safety of the forest when the hailstorm began, and likely would have stayed if things hadn't begun to grow worse. It was during the start of it that he had found his newest passenger, though he had yet to introduce him to anyone as of yet.

But while he's helping to gather the animals, some by ushering them towards the safety of the Town Hall, and others by the armful if he's able to grab hold of them, one might notice the tiny triangular face of something that looks suspiciously like a weasel of some sort. Newt will be happy to introduce you to him after the current situation is handled.

"Come on, that's it. In we go," Newt soothes, warmth in his voice despite the urgency of the situation. "All of us inside where it is warm. There we are."

He looks back over one shoulder, his left cheek is stinging and starting to bruise from a glancing blow from a chunk of ice, but otherwise he's unharmed. "Is that all of them?"

Helping people inside the Town Hall:

While Newt has experienced his fair share of bad weather, the brunt of it had been during his time past in Equatorial Guinea, and the monsoon season coming to bear. It's tropical climate meant that he didn't have to contend with something so fierce as a hailstorm that seemed to have no end in sight, but rather the torrential rain that came instead.

If anyone needs assistance with supplies, or merely getting to a place of shelter, Newt is there to help take items, or offer the slight shelter of his peacoat over the top of their heads as they go to the Town Hall. He won't be staying for long, and will likely attempt to make a break when it is safer.

Closed to Graves at his house:

Newt shows up during a small lull with a polite knock to Graves' door that belies his current state. The hail is still coming down all around the village, but most everyone is safely away from the worst of it to wait it out. He isn't much for crowds, much less of people he doesn't know well, and decides that this is the better option. What Percival might see upon opening his door, despite the quiet ask for entry, is a sopping wet Newt Scamander, curls sticking wetly to his forehead, a small cut and bruise forming on his left cheek, and his coat tucked carefully around his thin frame.

It's obvious that his coat wrapped as it is, while not for his own benefit, is for the benefit of yet another creature he has managed to gain the trust of.

He casts a glance up, meeting his gaze briefly, and then letting it settle on the other man's shoulder. His expression, however, is warm as he offers a smile as if it were a day like any other. "Hello."

Wildcard! choose your own adventure:

( Perhaps I missed something you'd like to see. Go ahead and comment in, and I'll happily join in! )
stillplaying: ([action] pausing the hunt)
[personal profile] stillplaying
WHO: Katniss Everdeen
WHERE: Outside House 41
WHEN: May 22

It's taken her a while to find the perfect branch. Something that wouldn't require too much trimming in size. Something that was relatively straight, free of the knots and side branches and anything else that might get in the way of carving a decent bow. She had found that bow a few weeks back, shortly before Peeta had wound up with a broken leg. Her project had been put to the side in favor of fretting over Peeta. Maybe that had been a mistake. If she had actually worked harder on finding the right branch, if she had worked harder on making her bow, maybe she could have done something to prevent Peeta from getting hurt. It's a stupid and irrational thought but it's one that's plagued her nonetheless.

Although his leg is still broken, it's finally sunk in that she doesn't need to watch him every second. He's capable on his crutches and that's something that she should respect. This new arena might be dangerous in its own way but there's no one actively trying to kill them. Besides, it's easy to keep an eye on the bakery from the porch of their house. She can stay out of his and Jacob's way but still monitor the bakery's comings and goings.

She sits quietly on the porch, the branch between her knees as she works on carving one edge. The paring knife is small but sharp enough to gently remove the wood from the belly side of the bow. She slowly works her way down the branch, crafting the wood until the limb bends in an even curve. Eventually, she carves notches into either end before moving on to working on the strings. Every now and then, she looks up to watch the bakery entrance - especially if she hears footsteps.

It's not a bad way to pass the afternoon, though she'd rather be out in the surrounding woods. That's the purpose of making this rough bow though, isn't it? She won't feel fully comfortable in her new surroundings until she had a way to protect herself and Peeta. And a way to provide them with extra food.
fishermansweater: (Actual human dolphin)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
WHERE: The waterfall
WHEN: During the hot weather in late May
OPEN TO: Anyone
WARNINGS: PROBABLY NAKED. cw your warnings in individual threads.
STATUS: Open. THIS IS A MINGLE, have at it, tag around, you know what to do. If you want Finnick, let me know in the comment subject!

He wouldn't actually say it was really hot yet, but it's definitely getting to the sort of temperatures that make Finnick miss swimming. There's no substitute for the sand of a beach underfoot, the reassuring roar of the surf, the taste of salt in the air, but there is at least water here, tumbling down from the waterfall and flowing through the canyon until it disappears into the rocks to the south. And he knows from constantly checking his fish traps that the water is deliciously cool.

He's tested out a few spots along the river for swimming, and it's good to be in the water again, after being kept out of it for so long by the harshness of the winter.  Not swimming doesn't feel right to him, and it never has. He's never spent this long somewhere with a winter this cold, and he can't remember ever going this long without swimming. So Finnick's been testing the water out since before it was probably what most people would consider to be warm enough to swim. It had helped that he and Annie had some gifts to hunt for in the river, but those have long been found, and now it's just for relaxation.

The calmest, most relaxing place he's found so far for swimming in the river is the pool at the foot of the waterfall, where the water plunges into the canyon crisp and cool from the heights of the cliffs. It's deep around the falls, and it's big enough to swim, and Finnick spends most of the hottest parts of the day there.

So whenever he hears someone talking about the heat while he's dropping food off in the village, he suggests they try the waterfall pool. Word's likely to get around, so he won't be entirely surprised to find other people stopping by the falls.

When they do, they're likely to find him swimming around the deep part near the falls, stripped down to his underwear and, from the grin on his face, having the time of his life. It's clear just from looking at him that he's good at this, moving through the water with a confidence and grace more like to a sea-creature than a man. He's in such a good mood that he even calls out to greet many of the people who approach.

Of course, he's not the guardian of the waterfall: everyone's welcome to stop by whether he's there or not. Once or twice, there's even a moose to be seen standing at the edge of the pool taking a long, relaxing drink.
ethnobotany: have you noticed how your boobs have started to firm up }{ insurrection ({ i'm back for more)
[personal profile] ethnobotany
WHO: Beverly Crusher
WHERE: Hospital, outside House #15
WHEN: Second week of May
OPEN TO: Anyone, with one closed for Wanda
WARNINGS: Nothing for now, will update if necessary


It was a strange box she'd found that morning. What was even more strange was what she had found inside the box. A bunch of seeds of all sizes and shapes stared up at her, glinting in the little bit of light filtering through. What startled her more than those were the gardening tools resting above the seeds. It was like someone knew she liked gardening, knew she would want to help out and wanted a garden of her own. Was this something those Observers she had heard so much about liked to do?

Pulling out the tools, she set them aside and began to sort through the seeds. There were so many, she barely even knew where to start. Two of most things, except one willow and four aloe. The willow made sense, though she hoped it was the seed for a smaller willow tree. The aloe plant also made sense. The more aloe they had, the better off everyone would be. Some of these would have to wait for a greenhouse or something of the sort. Otherwise, the climate here would kill them. But some she could go ahead and plant.

So for the rest of the week, she could be found outside when she wasn't on a shift at the hospital. With tools in hand, she's either working on getting some of the seeds into the ground or trying to remember how Annie and Finnick were doing their fence so she can make her own. The last thing she wants is to have her new garden get eaten or run over when it finally starts to grow. She makes a point of looking for anyone who might want to help on either one of these endeavors.


Her colleagues at the hospital are all very important here. Beverly doesn't know what each of them knows about herbal remedies, but she sees no reason not to offer what she does know to them. The more of a supply of those remedies they have and the more people who know what they are and how to use them, the better. So at some point during the day, she finds each of them, walking up to ask a few simple questions.

"I've just received a bunch of seeds for herbs and plants we can use for medicine and poultices when they finally grow. How much do you know about medicinal herbs?"


Wanda is one of the people Beverly wants most to work on her garden with. Unfortunately, not knowing Wanda's schedule means she isn't familiar with the proper times and places to try to catch her. So Beverly sorts out a handful of the ones she wants to plant now, setting them aside so she can plant them with Wanda at a later date. It isn't until the end of the week that she finally happens to make it into the Inn at the right time to find Wanda. Making her way over, again being careful not to sneak up on her, she offers a small but very warm smile.

"I remember you being interested in gardening," she comments easily. "I've just discovered a whole bunch of seeds that I'd like to plant. If you're interested, maybe you could help me."
bewaretheniceboy: (working)
[personal profile] bewaretheniceboy
WHO: Peeta Mellark and YOU
WHERE: Inn and Bakery
WHEN: May 7-10
OPEN TO: Anyone who wants to contribute to the records
WARNINGS: None at this moment, but he's still got a broken leg. Will change if it does.

It's taken two weeks for the medical people to feel comfortable letting Peeta leave the hospital since the supplies available in this place were so... primitive, and they had to be sure his leg was set properly and his ribs were mostly healed before turning him loose. But two weeks was all he could take in a bed, and he suspected they wanted him and Katniss out of their hair, so at that time he's given clearance to leave and permission for light duty to let him relieve some boredom. His return to the bakery and the inn is without fanfare, just him showing up one day to help Jacob and Miss Kate, trying to return to his normal duties in baking, cooking, and caring for the burgeoning garden behind the bakery. But two weeks without much movement has obviously robbed him of some of his strength and stamina, and he's moving slower and having to take more breaks, not to mention having to sit propped on a stool to keep the weight off his leg, since it's hard to cook, bake, or garden while standing on makeshift crutches.

Fortunately, he has another project to help with that, one he began technically before the attack. Digging in the storage room at the inn one day had turned up some blank, unlined books and some sets of drawing supplies, and he'd grabbed them all without remorse. Remembering the Everdeen family book he'd helped Katniss expand on while she was recovering after her misadventure with the fence, he'd planned to start turning these books into something similar: guides to plants and maybe animals in the area, with notes on what they could do in medicine, or for cooking, or if they were poisonous, and a sketch of what they looked like to guide unfamiliar eyes. He'd started planning it out before the attack, and now he could actually get going on the project, as long as people were willing to contribute what they knew.

The second book would be a little different, though. He'd heard about how people could disappear from this place by now, witnessed it once or twice, and so the second book would be a record of everyone in the village. A sketch of the person, their name, and a general description of them - just something to remember them, to prove they were there in case they vanished. Almost a memorial without the death. He'd begin with the faces he knew from home - himself, Katniss, Johanna, Finnick, Annie - and slowly expand to others around them and maybe even people who'd disappeared before he'd come and had never gotten to meet. Anyone who wanted to see him work on the books or contribute anything to them could approach him and ask questions or volunteer knowledge, since he isn't exactly hiding what he's working on. He can be found at the tables in the inn or the bakery sketching and writing, with a piece of charcoal from the fire to rough sketch unfamiliar plants (or faces) on the table so as not to waste precious paper or pencils (and a wet rag to wipe away the lines, don't worry Kate). Anyone who stops to look will immediately be able to tell he's a talented artist even with minimal supplies, as his drawings always look lifelike and almost as though they're about to jump off the page.
notabirdcostume: (Jump 3)
[personal profile] notabirdcostume
WHO: Sam Wilson and OPEN (except 1 thread)
WHERE: Inn, Church, Around the Village
WHEN: May 2-3
OPEN TO: All, 1 Closed Thread to Sonny & Stella
WARNINGS: Possible discussions of trauma -- I'll be more specific if something comes up.

1. May 2 Inn -- Kitchen; Morning or Evening [OPEN]
If you ever need a helping hand, I'll be there as fast as I can... )

2. May 3 Village: Morning [OPEN]
The road is burning up in flames and nobody wanna take the blame... )

3. May 3 Church; Afternoon [CLOSED - Stella & Sonny]
Let's raise the bar... )
3ofswords: (yellow/drink)
[personal profile] 3ofswords
WHO: Kira
WHERE: Behind the Inn
WHEN: April 21st
OPEN TO: All, Spring Feast mingle post
WARNINGS: Please warn for content in comment headers for individual OTAs

He's hardly the first to arrive for a shift in the kitchens, but those ahead of him have sunk into the the search for the building's chairs and tables--the kitchen is open and empty, the tavern devoid even of stools.  It's another wrench in the works, one of the smaller reasons for routine to fall apart to reactions, and Kira thinks they'll have a better time of solving it if someone gets the fire up in the stove and everyone eats first.
The damage assessment has people upstairs, people on the path wandered out of their homes.  Kira hadn't come through his own dining room on the way out, so he can't say if he's missing furniture or not, and his growling stomach doesn't much care.
It's when he slips out the side door of the kitchen in search of fresh kindling that he finds it.  Every missing table and chair standing in the grass, laden with platters of food, buckets of bottled drinks, carafes of what he finds to be coffee sending steam from their lids.  There are pastries with the coffee, roasted fowl gleaming golden on the next table, between ham hocks shining with honeyed glaze, large fruits piled among wreaths of fresh flowers.
Dotting the tables are jars, more jars than they've had since he arrived, flickering with short candles.  Garlands accent the tables, carry from them into the trees, a web of spring decoration with a feast at its center.  Between the platters are smaller plates, small chocolates laid out under decorative drizzle.  
"Hey!" he calls back through the door, blinking several times to make sure the sight doesn't shimmer away into the air.  "I found the furniture, and I don't think we'll need to cook anything today."

womanofvalue: (occupied)
[personal profile] womanofvalue
WHO: Peggy Carter
WHERE: Inside the Town Hall
WHEN: April 3rd
OPEN TO: OTA - Mingle Style!

The weather has taken a turn for the suspiciously lovely and while Peggy knows better than to think it's going to last, she does know that around here, if you don't take the good when it comes, you're stuck with the bad. She's had a bad few months, recently, between the lightning, the fireflies (she still feels worn down and exhausted, honestly), and the rash of disappearances that had taken their emotional toll on her. With the weather changing for the better, Peggy decides to put it to good use, quickly spreading word around town that she's going to hold herself a class.

It doesn't take very long to get the word out, thankfully, but even so, she doesn't expect there to be that many people who come. Lucky for Peggy, setting her expectations low means that she'll be pleased if even one person shows up and she knows that she'll at least have guilted Sam, Stella, or one of her other friends into coming.

Still, it would be nice to feel in control and useful instead of on the defensive. Carefully wrapping up her hands, Peggy finishes moving the last of the chairs to the side in order to give them some space, settling down blankets because she also doesn't want anyone to break a limb simply because she wants to offer some hand to hand training or, in some cases, simply practicing an old skill that might be growing rusty.

Eyeing the space and breathing in the fresh, fog-free air, she thinks that what she very much needs after her last few months is to hit something extremely hard and she does hope to find that opportunity now.
fishermansweater: (Wry amusement)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
WHO: Finnick Odair & Annie Cresta
WHERE: House #57 - The Windemere, and the woods
WHEN: April 2 - 9
OPEN TO: Everyone! Let us know whether you're after Finnick or Annie or both of them in your subject line. Or look out for a separate starter from Annie and tag her there.
WARNINGS: Nothing so far, but if things come up we will edit.
STATUS: Ongoing!

Twelve birds, five of them geese who are now getting towards fully-grown, are too many to keep in the house.

The birds living or sleeping in the house was never meant to be permanent, but they'd arrived in the midst of winter, and even knowing next to nothing about caring for birds, Finnick and Annie had known they couldn't be outside when they were so little and vulnerable. Now, though, their oldest geese are starting to look recognizably like adults, and the noise and the mess and trying to keep them fed indoors is too much.

The difficulty is that there's nowhere they can safely leave them without the risk of them wandering off and annoying Johanna by settling into her front yard, or wandering further afield and disappearing into the woods, where predators await. There's the remains of a fence around the house, but even the bigger birds would have no trouble escaping through it. Finnick and Annie have been talking, as the weather grew warmer, debating what to do and where to keep their flock. A little experimentation, and a lot of brush gathered from shrubs and trees, and they've done some experimenting and worked out a hardy-looking brush fence. The start of one, at least.

Once the fog has cleared, they've gotten to work, harvesting wood, shaping fenceposts, and soaking branches in their bathtub to make them pliable enough to weave. Most of the first week of April, one or both of them is usually out the front of their home. They smooth down the sturdier branches they're using for fenceposts, with a machete or Finnick's bright orange hatchet. They've borrowed a toolkit from the Inn storeroom to help, and the hammer proves useful when it comes to driving in the fenceposts. Once the posts are in, Finnick and Annie set to weaving the water-soaked wood into a fence.

The entire endeavor is made somewhat more difficult by the curiosity of the geese, who have taken to trying to nip at the brush if it's left too long unattended. In general, though, that just makes their owners laugh, and shoo them a little. Star and the three younger peacocks are less involved, choosing mostly to perch on the front porch and watch, occasionally keening at their foster-siblings.

The two victors are busy at work for day after day, and occasionally one or the other of them can be found in the woods, gathering a new bundle full of brush to take back for the fence.

Wherever they're found, there'll be a pause in the work if anyone approaches. It's necessary to assess any newcomers.

By the looks the geese give, they think so too.

maternis: (l)
[personal profile] maternis
WHO: Newt Scamander
WHERE: the fountain, the canyon wall, and the woods.
WHEN: March 20th + onward.
OPEN TO: Everyone
WARNINGS: Just an extremely introverted magizoologist who prefers the company of all things not human.

The Fountain:

Newt was still in quite the state after finding himself in this place. A place, which, he apparently couldn't leave. A place that separated him from his creatures, thrust him into a place where his magic was little more than barely within reach at his current ability level, and wandless. After recovering from the strange arrival in the fountain, he had gathered what belongings he had found himself possessing, and distanced himself from what seemed to be the town center.

After taking stock of everything, he'd gotten a very basic idea of the general layout, and since, has returned daily to the fountain. He may look rather strange, a tall man in navy blue scrubs hunched over as he checks the fountain, and the ground surrounding it for clues. What he's looking for are tracks of any sort that might mean any of his creatures might have accidentally found themselves in this place as well. So far, he's found nothing to indicate as much, but he's hardly keen on giving up so easily.

The Canyon Wall:

When Newt isn't tracking creatures who have simply not followed him through to this place, or foraging or fishing for the necessities, he is exploring the land. He's seen swarms of fireflies, and inspected them from a distance. Something nagging in the back of his mind kept him from straying too close, and they seem to congregate in places that might offer means of escape. The fountain. The canyon wall. How curious. He walks along the rock face, one way for a time, keeping a steady pace and counting his steps. He wishes he had paper to map out the area, but perhaps he can find something the next time he goes into town. If someone were willing to trade pad and paper for fish or what edible berries and plants he's found, that would be most appreciated, but it also requires he be willing to make the trek into the small town center.

He would really rather not, if that was all right with everyone.

The Woods:

Newt is used to sleeping rough. He spent a year in the field, the brunt of it in Equatorial Guinea, either taking rest in the shed and on the cot in his case, or making use of nature around him in the wilds. He finds a secure place to rest, where he is sheltered, and his position is protected, and he can gather his things quickly if entirely necessary. While he was not the war hero his brother was, he did still serve and fight (albeit under some duress) in the Great War, and he learned to move quickly from compromised positions.

When he isn't catching sleep at odd times, or running himself ragged as he finds ways to busy himself in this new environment, he's exploring and gathering. While there may not be much by way of hunting or foraging, there are seeds, and he gathers those in case they might be of use at a later time. It's during one of these trips that he hears the high-pitched chirp that most might mistake for a bird of some sort, but Newt knows to belong to a rather small mammal. A squirrel, in particular.

After a little bit of searching, mimicking the sound that the mother would return in answer as she tried to find her youngling, he finds a small, injured baby squirrel at the base of a tree. He crouches down carefully to inspect her, and lifts her up after she's grown somewhat accustomed to his scent.

"Hush, now," he murmurs as he lifts her close to his chest, bringing his peacoat around his hand to offer more warmth to the animal huddled in the palm of his hand. From what he can tell, she has a broken paw, and it doesn't look as if she's been seen to by her mother for days. Orphaned, probably. It does happen. A tension in his chest he hadn't realized had grown so tightly coiled lessens a little, and he smiles gently after what feels like ages. "Mum's here."
stillplaying: ([fear] please please no)
[personal profile] stillplaying
WHO: Katniss Everdeen + [OPEN]
WHERE: village, woods
WHEN: March 15
WARNINGS: Potential for PTSD, violence, death, other THG-related fun times


It's cold and wet but the clothes and the clothes she wears, although better than the sheer blue jumpsuit the Gamemakers had previously outfitted her in. That they somehow had time to change her outfit and provide her with a backpack of provisions still puzzles her. The last thing she remembers is the force field. Beetee's message sinking in. Knowing just who the enemy is. She remembers taking the wire and securing it around her arrow. She remembers nocking it in her bow and aiming it towards the chink in the field's armor right before lightning strikes the tree. She remembers being blown backward by the force.

Then she had been submerged underwater and survival instinct had kicked in. Now, ten minutes later, her clothes still drip water as she walks. It leaves a trail that can be easily followed. She should be more careful. Cannons had gone off but she still doesn't know for whom. Enobaria and Brutus could still be out there. Finnick and Johanna. Peeta. She should be more careful about the trail she leaves but she doesn't care. She needs to find Peeta. He had been screaming her name, hadn't he? Right before the world had erupted in light. She needs to find him. That's all she wants. All she had to achieve in the Quarter Quell. Get Peeta out alive. Make him Victor and ensure that Peeta will live the long life he deserves.

She can't actually do that unless she finds him. Despite the chill from the wet clothes, she presses on. It slowly starts to register that this isn't the Clock Arena. There are houses not too far from the fountain she had surfaced in. She isn't dumb. Houses potentially mean people. Peeta must have realized it, too. So long as they're weaponless, they need to get away. She heads towards the woods instead. It must be safe there.


Even after her new situation is explained to her, Katniss still finds herself wary. She carefully starts to explore the village, slowly mapping it out in her mind the best she can. If this is an arena, it's unlike any she's ever heard of. This is a village. Small, like District 12. Functional. It's a good setting for a blood bath but unless the Gamemakers have cameras within every building, entertainment might be mixed.

It isn't an arena. She has to remind herself that. The goal isn't for children to kill each other. There are more people here than the normal twenty-four in the Hunger Games. She remembers Haymitch's year though. Forty-eight children and only Haymitch survived. Madge's aunt had been killed in that arena. Still, if anyone comes near, Katniss will tense and scowl.
kestreldawn: ([surprise] jedha)
[personal profile] kestreldawn
WHO: Jyn Erso
WHERE: By the fountain/Jyn and Cassian's Cabin
WHEN: Future-dated to March 16, late afternoon/evening
OPEN TO: OTA/Cassian (Separate thread posted for Kira)
WARNINGS: Mention of war, blood (sort of self-harmy?), violence (Will update as needed)

// OTA - By the Fountain //

It had been a mistake, realized too late: attempting to climb the precipice in the northern part of town. She hadn't been doing it for any reason other than pure curiosity - wanting to know first-hand whether the stories she'd been told held any truth ("no one can leave," "everyone who tries is struck down," "the only way out is by death").

Even more foolish had been her attempting to do it alone.

She'd reached about ten feet up when the first floating orb wafted by. She hadn't thought much of it until another one showed, then another, then another - until they practically congealed around her in a brilliant, blinding burst of light - and for a moment she thought, the air sucked out of her lungs -

Scarif. The Death Star. It's happening again.

And in her panic, she'd begun to flail her arms while trying to maintain her grip on the rock's surface, not realizing that this would agitate the insects - or that they would retaliate against her.

It had been one sting - a little zap of pain on the side of her neck. She swatted, bringing palm to skin with a resounding slap. Then it was another, on her left arm - then four more through the fabric of her shirt on the expanse of her back. She leapt down from the crag, covering the back of her neck as she tried to run away, tried to escape the incessant daggers masquerading as flying insects.

It's when she reaches the fountain that the hallucinations and paranoia begin to set in.

She is back at war, back in the jungles of Onderon. She reaches for the blaster at her thigh only to discover it's been lost - or worse, taken. She ducks for cover in a small patch of trees, heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears, breathing short and furious. She trembles, petrified of an unknown enemy, wondering where the kriff her comrades have gone off to; have they left her behind?

// Cassian - The Cabin //

She hadn't told anyone where she was going that morning - not even Cassian. Part of it was because she didn't wholeheartedly believe in the danger, despite the warnings she'd received. Part of it was because she knew the reprimanding sort of look he would give her if she had told him - the silent worry glittering like a galaxy behind the blackness of his eyes. She couldn't stand to see it. So, she'd ventured out alone - didn't lie or come up with an alternative excuse, just said she would be back later.

After the attack, she eventually finds her way back to the cabin - some dull, weak part of her brain remembers it - knows it's familiar. She still sees the jungle, still feels the oppressive heat and the stink of rotting vegetation, but there's something in her, underneath the layers of fever and projected surroundings, that knows this place is safe. Or safer than the rest.

She's crouching, hiding underneath their porch - taking cover from imagined enemy fire that feels more real than the dirt pressing against her belly. Mutters and curses to herself that she's lost her weapon and has been left defenseless, not realizing the volume at which she speaks.
fishermansweater: (Running)
[personal profile] fishermansweater
WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: Out on the edges of the area, later Finnick and Annie's house.
WHEN: March 15th (forward-dated for schedule reasons because it's a long weekend and the rest of March will be terrible)
OPEN TO: Cassian Andor, Annie Cresta
WARNINGS: FIREFLIES so insect attack, paranoia, PTSD; also issues to do with powerplay and sexual abuse, plus you know, Hunger Games is a murdergame despotic dystopia canon.
STATUS: Ongoing!

retaining my composure... )


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