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sixthiterationlogs2016-09-06 07:35 am
thecatinahat) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-09-06 07:35 am
and the ground opens up
WHO: Cougar Alvarez
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: Hours post-quake, September 6th (pre-aftershocks) / September 6th, evening
OPEN TO: OTA / Closed to Jake (cut content)
WARNINGS: Slight injury
STATUS: Closed
cougar's barbershop of necessity
Cougar's beginning to think the boxes that arrive are possibly saving their lives. He wants to pretend they're from a friendly, but he also knows plenty about being used when needed. For all he knows, the boxes are coming from someone like Max, who is keeping them alive because there are nefarious plans in place for them. Unfortunately, Cougar has learned that you use what you need to and if you have to take advantage, you have to turn the tables for yourself.
The barbed wire that he receives in a box is small, but it will do the job. He really only needs it to create a mesh on the ground to catch the eggs in the small coop he's built for the chickens. The chicks are growing by the day and he thinks with another two weeks, they might begin laying their own eggs, which will take him from a production of three a day to twelve. With a dozen eggs a day, he knows that the food situation can alleviate a little and he can hunt less, which is something he's been worried about as the population of animals is only so finite.
He's on the ground looping wire when he feels something beneath him that troubles him.
The ground had moved earlier in the month, he swears, but Cougar is currently precariously positioned under a wooden chicken coop built without much sturdiness and the quake seems to be getting worse and worse. Sharply exhaling, Cougar bolts upright without thinking, the side of his neck slicing hair and skin as it hits barbed wire and makes him roll onto his stomach, deciding to use the very wire he's been hanging for eggs to protect him from anything that might fall during the quake (which is worse than the last).
Palms flat to the ground, he prays to God that nothing too big falls on him, his quiet litany of words keep going until the ground is stable beneath him. Blood, tacky and dripping, is now pooling at his neck and he crawls his way out of the protection to glance in the first water he can find. He lifts up the other side of his uneven hair as he realizes that the wire has taken off most of his hair to the jawline. While he can patch himself up from the wound, he cannot fix the hair emergency.
Which is why, once he's stitched, he finds the kitchen shears and goes to the inn, plonking them down at a table firmly and sitting there, waiting.
Someone is going to need to help cut the rest off and while he feels like a boy in Mama's kitchen again waiting his turn, he knows he cannot keep walking around with a half shorn head. Best to cut it to the curls, again. It will be short and strange, but it will grow properly, then.
the picnic
Jake's birthday is September. Without a calendar, Cougar is left without knowing what day it is, but the weather and other things give enough indications to tell him that summer is fading into fall. The way the sun sets, the temperature of the air, and other clues tell him that either Jake's birthday is about to come or it's passed. Either way, it's a good opportunity for Cougar to try and finally mend the ground between them.
He intends to do more than just mend, of course, but he'll take the small steps if he can't take the bigger ones. He uses the eggs to make meringue cookies, makes a salad with the greens and strawberries, and cooks up a hare before stuffing it into one of the boxes that had brought his items to him. When those are ready and Baby is at his heels, Cougar slips up to collect Jake, trying to tell himself that this will not go badly if he doesn't let it.
With his hair newly shorn, he feels more like a civilian than ever. In the humidity of the wet air, it's already begun to curl the way he hates and the stitches along his neck aren't hidden the way his hair or hat would keep them. He settles, instead, for trying to hide it with the collar of his scrubs shirt, though he has no luck.
He finds Jake, eventually, and whistles for Baby to go collect him at a gallop, yipping away as Cougar closes the distance just a little slower.
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: Hours post-quake, September 6th (pre-aftershocks) / September 6th, evening
OPEN TO: OTA / Closed to Jake (cut content)
WARNINGS: Slight injury
STATUS: Closed
cougar's barbershop of necessity
Cougar's beginning to think the boxes that arrive are possibly saving their lives. He wants to pretend they're from a friendly, but he also knows plenty about being used when needed. For all he knows, the boxes are coming from someone like Max, who is keeping them alive because there are nefarious plans in place for them. Unfortunately, Cougar has learned that you use what you need to and if you have to take advantage, you have to turn the tables for yourself.
The barbed wire that he receives in a box is small, but it will do the job. He really only needs it to create a mesh on the ground to catch the eggs in the small coop he's built for the chickens. The chicks are growing by the day and he thinks with another two weeks, they might begin laying their own eggs, which will take him from a production of three a day to twelve. With a dozen eggs a day, he knows that the food situation can alleviate a little and he can hunt less, which is something he's been worried about as the population of animals is only so finite.
He's on the ground looping wire when he feels something beneath him that troubles him.
The ground had moved earlier in the month, he swears, but Cougar is currently precariously positioned under a wooden chicken coop built without much sturdiness and the quake seems to be getting worse and worse. Sharply exhaling, Cougar bolts upright without thinking, the side of his neck slicing hair and skin as it hits barbed wire and makes him roll onto his stomach, deciding to use the very wire he's been hanging for eggs to protect him from anything that might fall during the quake (which is worse than the last).
Palms flat to the ground, he prays to God that nothing too big falls on him, his quiet litany of words keep going until the ground is stable beneath him. Blood, tacky and dripping, is now pooling at his neck and he crawls his way out of the protection to glance in the first water he can find. He lifts up the other side of his uneven hair as he realizes that the wire has taken off most of his hair to the jawline. While he can patch himself up from the wound, he cannot fix the hair emergency.
Which is why, once he's stitched, he finds the kitchen shears and goes to the inn, plonking them down at a table firmly and sitting there, waiting.
Someone is going to need to help cut the rest off and while he feels like a boy in Mama's kitchen again waiting his turn, he knows he cannot keep walking around with a half shorn head. Best to cut it to the curls, again. It will be short and strange, but it will grow properly, then.
the picnic
Jake's birthday is September. Without a calendar, Cougar is left without knowing what day it is, but the weather and other things give enough indications to tell him that summer is fading into fall. The way the sun sets, the temperature of the air, and other clues tell him that either Jake's birthday is about to come or it's passed. Either way, it's a good opportunity for Cougar to try and finally mend the ground between them.
He intends to do more than just mend, of course, but he'll take the small steps if he can't take the bigger ones. He uses the eggs to make meringue cookies, makes a salad with the greens and strawberries, and cooks up a hare before stuffing it into one of the boxes that had brought his items to him. When those are ready and Baby is at his heels, Cougar slips up to collect Jake, trying to tell himself that this will not go badly if he doesn't let it.
With his hair newly shorn, he feels more like a civilian than ever. In the humidity of the wet air, it's already begun to curl the way he hates and the stitches along his neck aren't hidden the way his hair or hat would keep them. He settles, instead, for trying to hide it with the collar of his scrubs shirt, though he has no luck.
He finds Jake, eventually, and whistles for Baby to go collect him at a gallop, yipping away as Cougar closes the distance just a little slower.
no subject
It's a rhetorical question, because of course that's how he got it. She can't help but be a little impressed, considering. Doing field stitching on yourself isn't easy. It hurts, and coupled with the pain you might already be in due to the wound you've already sustained, passing out is highly likely. An anesthetic can help, but this place doesn't even have electricity. Anything useful for anesthesia is probably nowhere near the table, let alone on it.
"You have chickens?"
no subject
"One hen, three chickalings," he says, accent thick. "Jensen will name them soon, then, I think, they will start laying eggs for us."
no subject
It's patently obvious that they're not. They're chickens, they (probably) have no concept of names. But she's trying to make conversation while learning about this place. Two birds, once stone.
At any rate, the question is rhetorical, and she's not expecting an answer for it. Instead, she continues on, leaning forward onto the table.
"Were they here when you arrived?"
no subject
He shakes his head, grimacing as it causes his short hair to swish. "No, they came in a box, for me. Chicks and a hen, all labelled to be mine."
no subject
"And you don't know who it came from."
no subject
He will take care of them first and foremost and worry about what the cost is later. "Eggs are sustainable. Don't worry about populations, with them."
no subject
Both eyebrows raised, and Natasha glances out the window towards the woods.
"How long have you been here?"
no subject
"Would be nice if we could have a centre," he says. "Breeding, all set up."
no subject
"We'd have to get some animals, first. Wouldn't it be better to leave them to their own devices and just be more careful?"
no subject
"Would you want to leave it to chance?"
no subject
"I'm not sure we can risk not. We'd need a lot more people before we would even make a dent in the local wildlife, I would think." She shrugs a shoulder.
"But I'm not an expert," she concedes. "I've just had to survive, before."
no subject
Better to have a plan, which is something he's learned from years of having to go through backup plans A through F, usually.
no subject
Natasha tilts her head to the side in quiet contemplation, tapping her fingers on her thigh. Unless you're humanely trapping them to bring them back here to breed — and that's provided we can get them to breed in captivity. Not all animals will."
no subject
no subject
"That's all any of us can do in a place like this," she says, tilting her head to the side. "At least the killing part comes in handy, even if you're being cautious about it."
There's no judgement there. Just the tone of someone who understands what he means because they've been there before, as well.
no subject
It needs to be done, though, especially with the upcoming winter.
no subject
"Natasha Romanoff. I'll be staying here at the inn, so when you've got the breeding center set up, let me know and I'll help out as best as I can."