(no subject)

[catchallthecats]

WHO: Arya Stark
WHERE: By the fountain
WHEN: December 13th, afternoon
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Arya Stark being Arya Stark, discussions of violence more than likely
STATUS: Open

---

It had become something of a habit. Arya would explore the strange town, and on the days when her older brothers weren’t keeping tabs on her? She’d range further. Into the woods, looking for any signs of anything off. Old campfires, ruined buildings, anything that might hint at what story this place had. Not too far yet, not with what had happened. Just enough to start getting used to what was normal, so she’d notice when things were off. While snow hid quite a bit, the lack of leaves and undergrowth currently meant she could see much more of her surroundings.

But even on days when Robb or Jon were paying more mind to what she was doing, her daily explorations took her to the fountain park. If anyone asked, she was simply hoping that other members of her family might show up. Not entirely a lie, but the knife borrowed from the kitchen hidden under her coat belied the claim, as did the dark expression she sometimes cast towards the fountain when alone.

There were specific people that if Arya saw them arrive would certainly get a hand, though that would be followed rather quickly with a knife somewhere unpleasant. There was no way she’d take any risks and if there was one Southern lady here already, who was to say more wouldn’t come? Those who meant her family harm? So no one should pay any mind to the girl scowling at the fountain like it had somehow personally offended her, hands in the pockets of the coat she wore. She wasn’t bothering anyone, wasn’t getting into trouble. Just plotting a bit of hypothetical murder, nothing wrong with that.

(no subject)

[seekingvinland]

WHO: Thorfinn
WHERE: The woods, The blacksmith.
WHEN: December 13th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Nothing yet, will update if needed, though its Thorfinn so bad language might just be in norse.
STATUS: Open

---

The woods
Just like any normal day, Thorfinn was up before the sun. A sad welcome home to Jo. The resident screaming alarm clock hadn't changed that much. He felt bad for waking them, he always felt bad when it happened. He dressed quickly, pulling the multiple layers and then the cloak Kate had made on, and set about heading off into the woods. He no longer worried about any thing happening to him. It was a touch dangerous but it was also truer to himself than he had allowed himself to be for a long time. Since he had taken his oath of non-violence. He feared nothing in the woods with the horrible gift he had received. If something tried to attack either it or he would die. A sad end to a story, but it was how he felt of late.

He spent most of the morning into late afternoon felling and chopping up a tree to make it easier to drag home and split into lumber to use at home. The colder it got the more the need grew. Not just for his home but for others, which was why he left almost all of it sitting out back, easily seen to be taken. Kate was given permission as he owed her for the cloak, but still he didn't care who took from the wood pile. He and his would make due, and he would keep working through the winter.

The Blacksmith

Coming by again, he made his way inside, dropping some wood to feed the fire for the forge in case the new Stark came back to mess with it. He checked out first to make sure no one was around before pulling the door shut and taking his cloak off. His long hair was hanging loose today but mostly confined under the cloak. It was staticy when he tossed it aside. Walking across the room he sat down beside the wood pile and took a deep breath. holding his hands out he pushed his sleeves up and, then he let the breath out and watched flames start to dance around his fingers.

It hadn't gone away yet, nearly a week and he was still trying to hide it. Forever secretive when it came to himself. Reaching one of one of the split logs he had brought with him he held it in his hands watching it start to burn as he held it. He knew he should get the forge fire going and see if he could get it to temperature without relying on the charcoal, but honestly he was scared of what that meant for him.

"Faðir, hvað er að gerast við mig?"

He spoke as he did often when he thought he was alone, he spoke his now language.

something for nothing

[notan_animal]

WHO: Logan Howlett
WHERE: The Inn, poking about outside any of the empty houses, woods - pretty much getting the layout of the land
WHEN: December 14
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Surly mutant Canadian man is super grumpy.
STATUS: Closed

---

Had Logan been anyone normal, he might have found the irony of his arrival to the village marginally amusing. Only he wasn't normal and there wasn't anything funny about being made into some ugly rebar art sculpture, thrown across a city and into a river to sink to the bottom of.

That was before cresting the surface in the fountain with a sudden loud growl that quickly turned louder when six certain claws didn't extend when they should have. Instead Logan was hollering from the pain and intense pressure radiating through his fists and up his arms.

Hours later, Logan emerged from the woods again dressed in the change of clothes provided to him in the waterproof backpack. None of it made any sense and that didn't improve his mood by any stretch. The mutant knew, however, that he wasn't going to learn anything about the place unless he asked questions. So, he moved around unseen until someone stuck out in a way that would suggest they knew something.

Unfortunately, asking nicely where the hell he was and who brought him here was out of the question.

[Later - Inn; Around the village]

Besides being told the same thing by three different people, Logan was still hard pressed to believe it. As far as he was concerned, this was about him. And it wasn't the first time his mutation had been screwed with. In fact, as he sat at a table in the Inn, everything that happened in Japan shoved its way back to the forefront of his mind.

From there, he wandered, keeping a face on him that suggested he wasn't in the mood to talk. But that never worked for Logan in the past and he was sure there'd be that one person (or, three) who had to stop and talk to the apparently obvious new guy in town.