littledhampir: ♫ Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees. (Not a lot of options.)
яσѕє нαтнαωαу ([personal profile] littledhampir) wrote in [community profile] sixthiterationlogs2018-08-15 09:08 pm

You have that look in your eye

WHO: Rose Hathaway [personal profile] littledhampir
WHERE: Various places around 6i
WHEN: 15th - 25th of August (Before the end of Sirens Call)
OPEN TO: OTA - Late tag-ins are always welcome.
WARNINGS: Minor references to blood & a pack of rabid Bambis. Character Death. Others may well come bc… Rose, so. Watch this space. FYI. So much TLDR under the cut.


If you go out in the woods today...

THE WOODS + THE INN

She’d been getting a little too comfortable with the fact that the wildlife here didn’t seem to have a problem with her. Rose’s strictly human status here in the village was generally a point of contention for the Dhampir, but if she had to have picked one thing that didn’t suck - it was her recent ability to be able to pet an animal without fear of it trying to snack on her. Until today.

In her defense...Who the hell would think to be careful around something that looked like Bambi had been left in the dryer on high for too long?! Sure they lull you into a false sense of security by sending one out to try and get your attention, and the next thing you know there’s eight of the little suckers - and she does mean that word literally - all trying to sink their teeth into you while you flail around like a fish that had escaped from its bowl. (Or. ya know. The lead singer of a popular Australian 80s band.)

While it was true that Dhampir blood was considered to taste better than that of a Human, Rose had been hoping that her change in race, courtesy of this godforsaken place, might have meant that had changed it. If the last ten minutes of her life was anything to go by, she hadn’t gotten so lucky.

You would be forgiven for laughing, however, if you happen to spot Rose as she emerges from the edge of the woods. Her appearance mildly alarming due to the bite marks that adorn her arms and legs. The long dark hair that had been pulled back into a ponytail was now a tangled mess that half framed her face. The clothing she’d raided from the discarded items of the Inn, probably more useful as dishcloths than it would ever be for training now. You may even spot one of the little creatures in question as it’s brave enough to think about having another go. And if you do, you’ll also spot Rose as she turns around and sends it back towards the treeline with a kick that sails wide.

Don’t worry if you miss it, she’ll be dragging her sorry self back to the Inn, looking like the disaster that she is, in search of something she can use to clean herself up and bracing for the numerous questions she knows she’s going to regret.

People are strange when you're a stranger

BUILDINGS AROUND 6i

If her encounter with the pack of Rabid Bambis had taught Rose anything, it was that this place was in desperate need of somewhere she could use to train. Running every day might be a part of her routine, but if she weren’t so bored out of her skull from not being able to take to the mats of a gym, maybe she wouldn’t do stupid things like, oh… say… pet the cute yet utterly terrifying spawn of satan.

It’s why she’s been out scouting the various buildings around the village, something that seemed like a wise idea until she realized that half of them were occupied and Rose had no idea which half. The ones with lights on inside made for an easy avoidance, but seeing as most of the people around here didn’t actually have electricity, there was a 50/50 chance that one of the windows she peered through belonged to an inhabited residence. Surely this was going to be fine.

And can you shake it off?

HOT SPRINGS

Even before the Wendigo attack, the Hot Springs had been a regular haunt of Rose’s, dating back to the first time she’d found herself in the village with a busted ankle and a series of conspicuous bite marks that weren’t exactly easy for her to keep covered. From the very moment she’d found out about the spring water and it’s healing potential, she’d been coming here every day. In part because of the healing but also because it seemed to be one of the few places she could visit that wasn’t overrun with people like the Inn was.

Of course, coming here these days wasn’t half as relaxing as it used to be but that was a story that even Kira didn’t have enough alcohol on hand to pry it out of her. It’s usually around dusk that she can be found this way, though, when most are making use of the last hour of natural light the village is afforded.

They say life carries on

PEETA'S GRAVE

When a Dhampir - a Guardian, died in her world, their death wasn’t something that was marked in any significant way. There was no memorial for people to come together and grieve. No procession of mourners to see them onto whatever came next. They were simply buried in a grave with a headstone that read the words ‘Eternal Service’. Dhampir, who like her, had dedicated their lives to protecting others. Dhampir, who like her, had always known that they would one day die because of it.

It was a part of her culture that had never particularly sat well with Rose. The attitude that when a person died, it was acknowledged - albeit briefly - and moved on from. Peeta was by no means a Guardian and yet, he’d gone into the fight knowing he could well die protecting others and while perhaps her only real connection to him was that she’d been there with him at the end. The thought that his death could be just like the many Guardians who had fallen before him, sat uneasily with Rose.

Those who have visited Peeta’s grave might have noticed the appearance of the forget-me-nots that somebody had been leaving there regularly. A single, lavender flower that seemed to be replaced with a new one every day. She never stays long, only long enough to retrieve the wilting flower and replace it with a new one. For Rose, it wasn’t so much about mourning as it was about remembering. About making sure, that at least as long as she was here, the boy who had sacrificed everything to help keep the people here safe, wouldn’t be just another headstone in a row of forgotten heroes.

Wildcard

Pick your poison. Rose lives at the Inn so when she’s not outdoors, she does spend an awful lot of time there.
underpinnings: (long draw)

[personal profile] underpinnings 2018-08-20 06:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"Just don't touch any of the windows," he advises, though most of the wires in the house simply add tension, keep things shut. It's the doors that are actually trapped; not his fault if someone is savvy enough to avoid the alarm but not enough to leave his house the fuck alone.

She'd knocked, he'd answered; no holes in anybody today.

As he makes for the kitchen, Nim bounds down from her path across and between the furniture, curious enough to seem more dog than cat in her approach. "She does just fine," he points out, crossing out of sight before the sound of cabinets, glasses, and running water signal his location. The long, spotted cat stands over Rose's feet, arches its back, and leans its entire side against her shins, purring loudly.
underpinnings: (devil may care)

[personal profile] underpinnings 2018-08-24 06:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"My cat feeds herself, generally." My is a little weird to apply to any of the creatures he's taken in, more easily reserved for the kirin; at least some effort went into that. Nim just slipped into the house one day and took to sleeping on or near him when their paths cross.

Nim splits the difference with Rose, sniffing briefly before setting her teeth on the tips of the offered fingers--gentle, quick, following with a scrape of her tongue. Satisfied, she slinks deeper into the house as if to show Rose the way.

Owen reappears in the kitchen frame, water in-hand. "She runs my croc-dog off just fine, when he tries to get inside." To borrow the name from Frank, odd as it is. Owen crosses, passes the glass. "You know whose house you were knocking on when you walked up?" The answer might lead to why.
underpinnings: (glasses tilt)

[personal profile] underpinnings 2018-08-27 05:05 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'll make sure to pick up one of those live, love, laugh signs for the kitchen, next time I'm out. Get some pillows for the couch." His own glass, partially drained, transfers from bad to good hand, and he sips.

"I'd take them down, but." He shrugs. They both know what can come through the village, now. Better to know there's a wendigo outside than not, and he wouldn't mind crippling it in the process.

"You looking to move out of the inn?"
underpinnings: (paused with cigarette)

[personal profile] underpinnings 2018-08-30 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Glancing around the beams and furniture that make up the room, it's more a training area for the cat than anything else. To him, the house is a cellar, a bed, and a bathroom. Traps just mean he can let his guard down long enough to store what he considers valuable and take a real bath when he's in town.

"Well," he raises his glass again, "it does come with its own obstacle course." He drinks, thinking about the other houses along this path.

"The one across the way's empty, closest place you'll get to that hot spring. I'm not here enough for noise to bother me." Though he can't say much for Nim, and what might attract her attention. "What kind of setup are you hoping for?"