ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ɢᴜᴛᴛᴇʀ ʀᴀᴛꜱ 𓂀 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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sixthiterationlogs2016-09-07 08:24 pm
booklegging) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-09-07 08:24 pm
002 ♙ open
WHO: Jess Brightwell.
WHERE: The inn.
WHEN: Sept. 7th.
OPEN TO: Anyone!
WARNINGS: Doomsday prepping because rude, mother nature.
STATUS: Open.
Jess wasn't normally one to spend time idling around when he had a canyon to comb through, but the growing ferocity of the earthquakes had shifted his priorities in an abrupt. Getting caught in the forest during yesterday's quake and nearly pitching forward into some brambles on account of the buckling earth had made it abundantly clear these things were getting worse--and the next one could do actual damage.
To think he'd brushed off last week's as an overactive imagination. Hindsight was 20/20.
He really didn't care to find out how bad their living situation would get if the buildings caved in on their already meager stores, and to that end Jess was determinedly preparing the inn in case of the worst case scenario. Being a pessimist had its advantages.
Jess spent the better part of the morning lugging around water and filling up whatever would hold it, then moved on to the unoccupied rooms in the inn, going through each one and making it less of a potential deathtrap taking down mirrors and moving heavy or breakable objects off shelves. His own room had already gotten a makeover: he'd pushed his bed far from the window, moving the rest of the furniture out of the way so he wouldn't be likely to get crushed by a shelf in the middle of the night.
Better. Not great, but better.
WHERE: The inn.
WHEN: Sept. 7th.
OPEN TO: Anyone!
WARNINGS: Doomsday prepping because rude, mother nature.
STATUS: Open.
Jess wasn't normally one to spend time idling around when he had a canyon to comb through, but the growing ferocity of the earthquakes had shifted his priorities in an abrupt. Getting caught in the forest during yesterday's quake and nearly pitching forward into some brambles on account of the buckling earth had made it abundantly clear these things were getting worse--and the next one could do actual damage.
To think he'd brushed off last week's as an overactive imagination. Hindsight was 20/20.
He really didn't care to find out how bad their living situation would get if the buildings caved in on their already meager stores, and to that end Jess was determinedly preparing the inn in case of the worst case scenario. Being a pessimist had its advantages.
Jess spent the better part of the morning lugging around water and filling up whatever would hold it, then moved on to the unoccupied rooms in the inn, going through each one and making it less of a potential deathtrap taking down mirrors and moving heavy or breakable objects off shelves. His own room had already gotten a makeover: he'd pushed his bed far from the window, moving the rest of the furniture out of the way so he wouldn't be likely to get crushed by a shelf in the middle of the night.
Better. Not great, but better.
no subject
Time spent here made him feel like he knew a lot less than he'd thought.
"Six years isn't chump change. Is it true what they say, you can take the soldier out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of the soldier?" he said, lifting his eyebrows. How was someone like Jon finding the adjustment? Saying it was ten shades of strange was probably still a bit of an understatement when the town itself was strange as all hell.
no subject
"It's hard to not be fighting constantly," Jon agreed. "It's hard not to always be on alert from a threat I know how to fight. This place is completely different than anything I've ever known."
He felt it was the same for many people here, all told, but he felt the differences very keenly; this place was as far from Westeros as he could imagine.
no subject
But Jess couldn't say the same about letting go of old threats. They were never very far from his mind, those things he'd been outrunning and the people he'd been outrunning them with. Some days it was like he was looking for an excuse to blame the Library for this, when it was at fault for so much already.
At least then he would be dealing with a familiar enemy.
"But you seem like you're doing all right for yourself. I've seen you coming back from hunting."
no subject
"I know how to keep us fed," Jon agreed. "I know how to survive. It seems that you do as well, judging by that waterskin."
It was a different sort of survival, ingenuity versus brute strength, but Jon could respect it. It was something that would take him far in the world. They needed minds like his as much as they needed bows like Jon's own.
no subject
"Fixing a leak? Sure, that I can do," he said, chuckling faintly, swinging the waterskin again so that the water sloshes. Didn't take a mechanic like Raven to patch a seam. "But if I had to make one of these from scratch I might be on your doorstep asking for tips. I was in training for the army before I wound up here. Basic bush training is a requirement, but I'd never so much as been hunting before I got here. Not even camping in the woods for fun. Put me in the city and I can find you the best price for a loaf of bread, but out here, surrounded by all this nature and quiet..."
It was about as far as you could get from the boom and hiss of steam engines, of crowds and the commotion of morning traffic. Made Jess wish his father had been the outdoorsy type. The only way Jess could picture Callum Brightwell holding an axe in one of his silk waistcoats was if the man was intending to put it in someone's neck.