(no subject)

[seekingvinland]

WHO: Thorfinn Thorsson
WHERE: The Woods, The Blacksmith, The Boathouse, and House 8.
WHEN:September 14th
OPEN TO:OTA
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Open

---

A: The woods
It was a day, he wasn't really sure which day it was since Fenrir's shakes he had lost track of his days to busy with his tasks. Making more soap, carving bone and a second bit of wood for Kate since he didn't like his the one she asked for turned out despite having given it to her. But when he wasn't working around the house he was out and about. As always his favorite place to be was the woods.

Some days he fell trees when he had an axe, other days he hunted. Days like today he just foraged. Part of it was for survivals sake. The rest was just a pure need to reconnect with nature. He spent so long in the woods trying to buy his freedom back that he felt more right in the woods. He no longer kept his injuries from the day of the quakes covered they were all scabbed over enough for him to no longer care. New scars would come and cover his skin. Things he didn’t give much though to, being blissfully ignorant to things like germs. Such things were not known in his time, and he's never thought about it since arriving in this new land, he lived by what he knew.

Which was part of why he was out, he was looking for herbs. His stomach had been bothering him for a couple days now. He couldn't pin why, but he figured he could find an herb to help ease the pain.

B: Blacksmith
Thorfinn had noticed the building but before today he hadn't ventured to close to it. Just idly looking and passing by. He wasn't sure why today the desire to get closer hit, but it did. He could recall being young and innocent running across the village he was born in 'Father! Father!' he would always call out. Happy to sit and watch Thors try to repair and make things. His father was such a bad blacksmith, but a good man. In Medietas, Thorfinn himself tried to become a blacksmith but a month of learning didn't do a lot for him here.

Stepping up he kept a hand on his pack, the other ran over the door before pushing it open. Disappearing inside the building. It was all different from the smithy in his village. Like everything in this village it was still rather futuristic but, he had the basic idea. He couldn't explain why, but he had the desire to be in the building. Sitting on the floor with his pack beside him he looked around the empty dark building.

C: Porch of House 8
When he finally made his way home he didn’t go right inside he tossed his pack on the porch taking a seat on the steps and pulled up the bit of bone he had been carving the night before. Sitting back against a post he pulled one leg close to his body to prop his arm on, the other stretched out to try and touch the other post, it didn’t work his legs weren't long enough. Yet he remained sitting the same as he shaved away at the bone in his hand. It was comb but this one made of wood, a piece he had been whittling down for awhile. Experimenting with new ways to make things.

He knew he could have gone inside, but he was feeling a bit out of sorts. Sitting on the porch in the cooling air seemed like the thing to do.

Comments

[almightythor]

Thor had been in the village for a few days now and, as such, had only just started to explore the area around him. He'd realized that some of his friends from Midgard were here, which was good, but he still didn't know how or why they'd all been drawn to this place.

He'd decided to try and explore the boundaries of the place, pushing the limits of the prison he'd found himself in. His attempts to scale the canyon walls had been thwarted by crumbling rock and a swarm of bees and it was the latter that sent him running through the woods, stripping off his clothes in an attempt to get the damned things off him.

He cursed, loudly, in a language known to most on Midgard as Norse but one that he'd found especially useful for saying things he did not wish his mother to scold him for. Damned bees.

[seekingvinland]

The nice quiet of the woods was utterly disturbed by a lot of Thorfinn's favorite words flying loudly. His head shot up from the plant he was looking up as he heard the loud curses. 'What the fuck was that?' He pushed to his feet pulling his blade from his boot and moved towards the cursing.

When he saw a very large very naked blonde running his way he moved out of the way.

"What's wrong?" While part of him wanted to ask why in Odin's name the man was running nude when there was bushes around that could hurt a lot if snagged, he wasn't about to judge another man's choices. However, if he was being chased by a bear, well, then the man's on his own.

[almightythor]

"Bees!" Thor shouted, swatting at himself to get the rest of them off. He didn't want to be stung any more than he'd already been stung; he'd never been stung by a bee on Midgard in his life and supposed that if he had, it would have not hurt him at all. These bees were something else entirely.

"Where on Midgard is this damned place that it has bees that sting like that?"

[seekingvinland]

"Water, find some water! They wont follow you in! The river is this way." He pointed off towards the river, the quickest way he knew anyway.

Thorfinn looked confused, the voice registered as someone he knows, but his days in Medietas were so fuzzy sometimes that it didn't connect that well. The issue at hand was much more important anyway. Though the way it was phrased made Thorfinn shrug.

"I thought it Vinland myself, but it is not. We do not know where we are. We were all taken from our home." Midgard... who would use Midgard. No, it couldn't be.

[almightythor]

Thor jumped into the river and quickly rid himself of the bees before coming ashore again to greet the man who had provided him with such valuable information. Having never encountered such on Asgard, Thor had no idea what to do when bees stung him.

"My thanks to you," he said, managing something of a smile. "It is no realm I know, this place, and the lack of knowledge is something I find disturbing."

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn just quietly waited, still a bit unsure about it all. At least he knew enough about bees thanks to his travels in his youth. He was always glad to be a help when he could be. He was leaning against a tree waiting for the other man to come out of the water again. Nodding when he did.

"It is no problem. Bee's hurt like a son of a bitch. I am not fond of their stings myself." He figured it was one of the herbs in his pack that was still half open at his side that was the saving grace keeping him from getting stung. At least just yet. "No one here knows this place. Jo has taken many notes but still nothing is really known about this place. We were all just taken from all around. Different times and places." He stepped forward then offering a hand out. "My name is Thorfinn, Son of Thors."

[almightythor]

"I am Thor, son of Odin," Thor said, reaching out and shaking his hand. It was a firm grip and a sharp shake, full of power, and he felt like he could get along well with this man. They shared language, after all, though Thor did not know which language was this man's native one; the one he'd used was old and out of use on Midgard except among academics.

"How long have you been here, Thorfinn?"

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn's brown eyes went wide as he seemed to straighten his shoulders a moment. Almost like a cat recoiling away from something. He didn't pull away from the shake though. He shook back a strong form shake as well, before taking his scarred up hand back. "It is an honor to meet you, Thor." His voice was just a bit shaken as he said it, his mind screaming to say lord, to bow to be respectful, but Thorfinn knew if he went down on bended knee he wasn't likely to get back up. He had to stand tall... as tall as a man a foot short than a god could anyway.

"A full moon phase and two halves." He spoke, finally taking his hand back crossing his arms over his chest trying to hide the face that he was utterly shocked to be standing speaking to Thor. Of course he remembered bits of his short talk with Thor in Medietas, but he didn't expect a god to remember him, much less with the way the Multiverse seems to work. "Others have been here longer."

The Woods

[treadswater]

Finnick's not with her. Usually, they stay close. Certainly within earshot. But the earthquake broke their water supply and the river is tainted, so he's left. Gone to find where the people in the village are getting their water form. Other end of the canyon, isn't it?

Yes. Something like that.

She's not with him. She's trying to be more independent. Trying to be useful for more than strategic thought. So she's collecting what few plants she knows for dinner, checking a snare. Shimmying up a tree to see if there are any birds' eggs around.

It's while she's up a tree that she sees movement, and goes very still.

Her clothes are white, but she's rolled around in dirt and mud enough that she hopes it's not too noticeable any more. But her hair, there's nothing she can do about that.

Except go still. Don't move. And maybe the man won't notice her.

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn had been walking along looking at plants, trying to not think about the things he could feel under his skin. The sound of whispers and sight of things moving just outside of his peripheral vision. These things were different than the other people in the woods. These things came when he didn't sleep enough, when he stressed to much. The dead of his dreams making themselves known to him in the day.

The difference. The dead didn't have ginger hair, the dead didn't breath, or make the smallest of noises. The tracking and hunting of his youth left deep instincts he never knew how to shut off. The way he could tell when a rabbit or snake was near. There were people who could bypass his senses, but, the woman he could tell was in the tree above him. She wasn't one of them, at least he doubted it. Her hair, her hair caught the light just right.

While part of him wanted to ignore her, let her be, he tipped his head at a strange noise. Looking up he pointed to her. "Höggormur!" He called out the word, then remembered Snake's nickname. English English... how did Einar say it. "SNAKE!" He called the word up to the redhead, behind her was a serpent slithing across the branch at her.

[treadswater]

It's actually a relief.

Oh, not the man. Not him. Short, heavily muscled, she can see the scars because she's got a sailor's sharp, far-sighted gaze and he walks around the forest as skilled as Katniss Everdeen.

Not even his warning, the first word garbled (she's sure it's garbled, because what did he say?) and the second thickened by accent but understandable.

But the snake.

The snake. All orange like her hair and black, sliding straight for her.

She almost feels like saying finally. Finally. Something that's a direct threat. Finally, something she knows how to deal with.

Slowly, Annie slips off her branch, swings herself down and across to another. She's grown up jumping around decks, balancing on lines and clambering up pots, this is easy. She doesn't panic. She'll be proud of herself, later. She just moves, and hopes the snake doesn't can't won't follow her.

"What's it doing?" she calls out to the man.

cw; snake death

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn can almost see it in the way she moved from branch to branch. The way he used to move from the mast to the deck, running and jumping from one of the ships to the next if need be. To hone his old skills to kill time on long voyages when glaring at a certain old man's head was just to much. Though those days were long gone, those kind of skills are notable.

Who was this ginger haired woman? He knew he had not seen her before.The snake turned when she jumped slithering still towards that same nest she had been after. It wasn't after her but the eggs.

"Nest!" He called up, he could see it. He didn't ask her thoughts, or if she was okay he could see that well enough. Reaching down into his boot he pulled up the knife he favored the shifted his weight tossing the blade up. A noise like dart hitting a dart board could be heard as he managed to catch the snake by its middle to the branch just above. Leaving it wiggling but death would come fast. Of course, now his knife was stuck in the three holding a dying snake above the eggs. Hindsight it wasn't the BEST idea.

[treadswater]

It tells her a lot, his throwing of a knife. That he has a knife. That he knows how to use it, hitting a moving living thing. That his instinct and action was to save her, first to call out and then to kill the threat. Save her, not stand back and let the arena kill her.

Not kill her himself, sending that knife into her faster than she could dodge.

Annie swallows, carefully, watching him more than the writhing, dying snake.

"Thank you," she says. Means it, means it with the depth of seeing all seventy-four Hunger Games and exactly what people do to each other there.

icon for expression

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn didn't expect to be thanked by the girl in the tree. He blinked a little and lifted a hand up to his chest with a sheepish embarrassed smile.

"Not problem. Okay?" He asked after a second, he looked to where the snake had finally finished wiggling, making a face. He shifted his arm, to point to the knife. "Would you mind?" he asked hoping she would understand what he was asking.

[treadswater]

"Okay," Annie repeats, then she seems to freeze. He wants the knife back. She pulls the knife free and the (apparently) dead snake will go tumbling free. He'll have both weapon and food.

But he hadn't killed her. A gesture of trust, or of careful positivity. She can return it.

She moistens her lips, nods, and then carefully moves back to the branch. First thing is first, make sure the snake is dead: with a lightening fast move, she grabs the snake behind the head and twists until she hears and feels the crack of the neck breaking.

There. Now it's dead.

Then, carefully, she works the knife loose, and tosses it down to the man. Not throw, she's not aiming at him, she tosses a safe distance so it won't accidentally hit him. The snake falls, but Annie, Annie stays up in the tree.

[seekingvinland]

He saw how she froze making sure he stood perfectly still and his hands were visable. He wasn't certain but something told him that he frightened the poor lady. He didn't want to make it worse so, he did what seemed natural not that the danger was over, he made himself look unassuming...as one can looking like he does.

Thorfinn turns and moves to pull his knife up and slipped it back in place in his boot. He looked to the snake then to her and motioned down. "Would you like? Likely good." He figured it would be a sign of good will to offer her the food, snake was now considered food instead of threat. He could always find something else, he wasn't set on snake.

Blacksmith

[thecatinahat]

Cougar had seen Thorfinn heading in the direction of the building that hadn't seen much use in recent days. The two men who had been there at the start had seemed interested in it, but since then, no one has really gone near it. It's a shame, too, because Cougar would love to trade his hunting and eggs for materials from a smith. He follows after Thorfinn, quiet with every step, only making a noise when he's in the doorway.

"New home?" he jokes, gesturing to Thorfinn settled on the floor like he intends to make a space for himself.

[seekingvinland]

He had been lost enough in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Cougar enter, not until the man spoke. Which got a bit of a confused blink out of him before a sheepish almost embarrassed smile.

"No, no, new home with Kol and Jo." He pointed in the general direction of the house he was staying in now. A couple weeks back the pipes had busted in their old house and utterly decimated it. He notice it then, Cougar's hair, pushing up off the ground without his hands he looked at the other. "Your hair." He looked shocked, how had he missed that. He himself had improved his braids but using Jo as a doll to practice on did wonders.

[thecatinahat]

Cougar's smile is wary and rueful, running a hand through the curls in his hair, frizzing in the humidity. "Quake made things bad," he says, tipping his neck to the side to reveal the stitches that he'd had to give himself in order to stop the blood. "Wire," he explains. "Took off most of the hair. Cut the rest," he indicates, and though he knows it will grow out again, there's a part of him that feels like part of his identity is somehow gone, having lost the hair.

But it will grow back. And maybe by then, he will be able to find a hat, as well. "Why in the blacksmith's?" he asks.

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn's look turned a bit sympatheic as he nodded. Motioning to the bit of sheet still around his arm. "Was in kitchen, glass broke." He hadn't really let anyone but Jo look at it, and his knuckles were his own doing but were already healing pretty well. He was used to messing his hands up. Moving closer he looked at the stitches. He knew well enough what stitches were.

"It will grow." he replied reassuringly, he had been pretty upset when Ylfa demanded to cut his hair, it had been just dumb luck the world snatched him before she could actually get the scissors to his hair. Long hair was hard work but something a man should have a choice to.

Thorfinn gave a sheepish embarrassed look, before looking around at the black smith, rubbing the back of his head some. "Father was blacksmith." It was an honest answer if he ever gave one. "Seeking wisdom of the dead."

[thecatinahat]

Cougar gestures towards it, because if Thorfinn wants, he could also do a quick study and make sure it's okay. He might not be a qualified doctor, but he's also not that bad at it that he'd hurt the man further. He could even ask Jake, if he wanted a testimonial. He gives an assuring smile to promise that he knows it will grow back.

"I can look at the wound," he offers out loud as he steps inside, giving a look around the place to see if there might be any chance of a future blacksmith here. Maybe Thorfinn will be able to provide them something new? "And you tell me of your father."

[seekingvinland]

It wasn't usually something he did, but Cougar had trusted him with his hair, so he saw no reason to say no. Reaching up he started to undo the knot that had been holding the faberic in place for a couple days. Since the glass had cut the back of his arm he shifted to make it easier for Cougar to look. It was strange turning his back to someone, but this place demanded trust. The wound didn't seem infected, at least not badly but it definitely should have been stitched. Which it wasn't. Like most of his scars it would be a rather nasty scar when it heals.

"Only if no burden." Since Margarey taught him the word he was using it more. "Father..." How did one explain Thors to a man who didn't know the tales of the man? He was used to people looking at him in awe when they found out, then questioning why he looked nothing like the man. But to describe his father to a strange. "He was the strongest man to be known. He was called a troll. He ran from battle before my birth." It was easier to speak not looking at the other man. he had never been comfortable talking about himself. It was just another trait he shared with his father. "He was killed when I was a child, he said real warriors need no blades." Thorfinn's eyes widened some staring at the forge, remembering the rain of arrows always made him stiffen up a bit. The moment he lost his father still haunted him nearly a decade and a half later.

[thecatinahat]

Cougar nods for Thorfinn to say as much as he wants. After being the quiet one in his group, he's used to the rest of them nattering on constantly and to be without it is a strange thing that he's not entirely used to, yet. He wants to hear noise, even if he's not very good at contributing to it. He moves towards the cut and makes a noise, thinking that he could stitch it quickly enough.

"Did you look up to him?" he asks, as he digs out the small medical pouch he's taken to carrying with him, offering the disinfected needle and thread so Thorfinn can both see them and so he can hopefully understand the intention behind it.

[fishermansweater]

Their camp had been badly damaged by the earthquake. A tree branch had come down on their shelter and shattered the jar they'd been keeping their water supplies in, so Finnick's been scouting. Watching the villagers, exploring in the direction they've been going to get water, and it's a long way away. They're going to need a lot of storage containers. So Finnick's been back to the village, looking for more jars, but what he's after now is the sort of pliable, broad-leafed grass he can use to weave water containers.

That's why he's crouched down in a clump of grass, cutting at the stalks with one of his knives. He doesn't hear the approach of a stranger, not until it's close, when finally the slightest rustle catches his hear and he freezes, except his head, which lifts sharply behind the cover of the grass.

Whoever this is, they're good. Trained-good, or just years of experience-good, and in the moment, it doesn't matter, because what matters is that the young man approaching him has managed to elude even the too-sharp senses of a Career victor, and that means Finnick's trapped. All he can do is stay hidden, in his stupid red pants and white tank top that after his constant efforts at dirtying and dulling them are still too bright.

It's the sort of mistake he's seen get too many tributes killed. But all he can do is stay where he's stuck and try not to draw attention.

That, and shift the way he's holding his knife to be ready to lunge out and stab.

If he has to.

[seekingvinland]

The young blonde man was in light gray scrub pants and a horribly filthy tank top. Like the career victor, he had purposely dirtied his clothes. Not only because he was more comfortable that way, but because it was easier to hunt if he didn't stand out. His blond hair made that a little harder but nothing to much.

He wasn't on the hunt for food today, no, just herbs. He was stubborn and even if he had realized something was wrong when he saw the fish floating he still bathed in the water and had felt ill since. He knew better and he had done it anyway. Today, he was looking for herbs, something to ease the pain before anyone realized he didn't quite feel tip top. He heard noises of another person, his senses were to sharp to turn off, but he tried to pretend like he didn't.

So many other's moved through these woods to, and as much as he'd like to claim them as his, like the woods on the Ketil farm, they were not his. He had no claim to it. And though he could tell the other was there, part of him wasn't paying as much attention as he normally might. Something off in the distance catching his attention. Something no one else would see. He hadn't been sleeping enough and his mind already liked to play tricks on him. He moved a in the direction he was looking leaving the other person to what they were doing, but leaving his back exposed, and the pack that was over his shoulder half open with different herbs inside.