sixthiterationlogs | Like autumn leaves his sense fell from

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Like autumn leaves his sense fell from

WHO: Bobo Del Rey
WHERE: Around the North village
WHEN: Early part of October to mid month
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: PG probably. Will warn for stronger

The Woods

Grabbing an axe from the storerooms and straps that he found as well, Bobo heads off into the woods several times a week. It's been years since he's had to function without electricity, but he's lived in a time where all a man had was what he gathers for himself. Or got others to gather for him.

Sadly Bobo does not have others to do it, and so he's preparing on his own. If this place is anything like the world he knows that looks so much like this, then there's snow coming, bitter cold nights, and a need to ensure they are not a problem for him.

Often due to the weather he strips away the fur coat he wears everywhere, leaving it laying over a low branch while he works. A few times when he's been working for a while, he adds his shirt to the pile, figuring he's far enough out that perhaps no one will see the demon's mark on his back. Here it may not glow, appearing to be a massive scar, but still there long enough he doesn't consider it much.

He hauls the wood back with the straps, hanging on his back and starts making a well stacked pile to one side of his place in the North village.

Fishing, of a sort

He'd once talked to another here about building a stone and stick trap to try and capture fishes instead of spending time fishing. Gathering up a lot of sticks from when he's chopped wood, he carries a bundle down to the river. Adding large smooth stones to the pile where he's working, he leaves his boots and coat high on the banks and starts working on building a M shaped trap like ones he remembers from a century or so before. He's not sure that red salt will work to preserve fish, but he's willing to try.

The Inn

Bobo makes a point of coming to the Inn at least once a day for a meal. He tends to sit by himself, with his back to the wall when he can, watching others from time to time, though he isn't used to approaching others and isn't sure how to begin.

About once a week he can be seen heading into the kitchen with something he's gathered or killed, leaving them in the kitchen for those that prepare the meals or others. He remembers well enough that payment is needed, or at least appreciated, and so he ensures that they have the items they need to continue making the meals.

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The sound of metal hitting wood draws Bull's attention closer. He approaches carefully, hand on the handle of the big axe Tony had made for him. He pauses when he sees something that looks like glowing skin. But the guy looks like someone he has seen around the village. He lowers his hand from the handle, but they are still up in front of him, ready to defend himself is he should have to.

Then he clears his throat to let the guy know he is here before he comes a little closer and finally speaks up.

"Hello"

It was habit now to come every day to the inn to help prepare lunch, since from the beginning of her time here to now. Faces came and went, eventually, it all seemed to be a blur. Those that kept to themselves didn't leave much of an impression. It sometimes took time for Margaery to notice them or approach them.

It wasn't until Bobo came to the kitchen, carrying his fresh kill that Margaery realized he was new to the village. It was embarrassing, but so much of her time was focused on other matters, all she could do was kick herself for failing to notice him.

"How long ago did you arrive?" She asked, turning away the stew that she had been concentrating on.

It isn't until he's actually working this hard that Bobo misses two things in his life. A demon's strength, and a legion of revenant minions to actually threaten into doing this kind of shit work for him. Damn but he's missing that last one a lot.

So he's actually pretty grateful for the interruption. Lowering the axe, he turns around to see who's out that far as well, not really considering he might want to be wary of others. It's just not a concern he's had for a lot of years.

"Hello your... well." He gets a full gander at the person before him, giving him a once over and seeming to be suitably impressed. "This place is stepping up its game, isn't it? You are?"

"Sorry to intrude," he says, watching her for a moment before he responds. "Thought I could maybe slip in without being caught again," he says, chuckling softly, admitting he's made a point of trying to slip in around others. "Back when I was a youth, I was raised that you didn't let others do for you without helping them in return. The meals are always good and hearty, so been bringing around supplies as it works for me," he admits, feeling kind of stupid for it. Mostly because it's been a century or so since he's helped others.

"And not long. Going just on a month now," he says, bringing the goose thing over and laying it on the cutting board. "I tend to skin them and, in this case, did the plucking. If you need the hides or feathers though, let me know. Starting a collection," he says with a nod, watching her intently. Perhaps rudely so, social skills and politeness going the way as so much for him.

Though there are communal provisions, Ty wasn't content just being a mooch who didn't contribute at all. He'd been setting traps here or there, and was in the midst of checking a few when he heard some commotion by the river.

Curious, he headed over, watching as he large man set up his trap.

"Need any help?" He asked, though fishing had never really been his strong suit.

Bull grins when the other seems impressed. "I am The Iron Bull." He steps closer lowering his hands when he isn't outright attacked. "I think I've seen you in the village, I didn't expect anyone to be this far out getting wood though."

In theory these damn things work, but it's a lot of memory from a century before of a man that hadn't actually done it himself. He'd seen others in the area use these kind of traps, set it up that the fish swam in but couldn't find a way out because of the current. He'd kill for enough hooks to make a trap line, and would keep looking, but for now this would work.

Glancing up, his trousers soaked to the thigh, and his tee shirt splattered with water, he stares at the guy curiously before giving a nod. "Sure. Might make it easier. Getting these rocks set so that the sticks stay is proving to be a pain."

He points at a larger stone, but one he himself had hauled over. "Bring that to me. If you don't mind getting wet." He can't help but taunt, just a little.

Definitely impressed, and he's seen things most people can only imagine. "Bobo Del Rey, but Bobo will do," he says, giving a nod. "And I admit, I feel I'm missing a few things. Need to get out more, I guess. As for the wood..."

He shrugs, glancing back towards the village. "Figured out here I didn't have to worry about any trees people were trying to cultivate, and besides. Some of these city kids wander places and I hit one with a tree and someone's bound to get mad."

"Two heads are usually better than one." Ty agreed, setting his things down against a nearby tree, sizing up the rock. It didn't look like it would be too difficult, but in running water with slippery stones as the flooring, it might be a different story. He laughed at the jab, squatting down to pick up the rock carefully, taking measured steps into the stream.

It was icy, and in any other circumstances most likely he'd be complaining about it, but he hardly wanted to give the other guy the satisfaction.

"I wouldn't have offered to help if I did. You always like this to people who are here to help out?" He didn't seem too offended, more amused than anything.

"Tell me about it. Last decade or so I've spent around humans and elves and I worry I break them if I bump into them too hard." Bull chuckles a little and looks at the logs around them "Need help?"

"No intrusion. If you are bringing meat, you are more than welcome." She glanced over at him again in between dicing onions. "You don't wish to be caught? The inn is the worst place for that. Someone is always here." Especially in the kitchen. There were so many that needed to be fed. With the village expanding, they needed every free hand to help. "That's the philosophy implemented in the village. If you expect to be fed, you have to contribute something." He at least had that thought to begin with.

"Leather and fur makes for a good commodity. I have some skill in turning them into cloaks or blankets, if you want them for the winter? It will be cold soon." She didn't mind him staring, used to that sort of response from the small folk and the nobles. "I'm Margaery."

Phryne is, generally speaking, not specifically looking to run into people on her forays out into the woods. She's aware that it's not without its share of risks, of course, and she hasn't even her trusty gun to help in the case of significant trouble. But she's never been inclined to not do something simply because there happens to be a little risk involved. Besides, she always has been prone to curiosity, and the woods seem like a reasonable place to start any sort of major exploration.

(She may be past the years where she'd have climbed the trees simply for the sake of them being there, but that doesn't mean that there isn't still a touch of nostalgia simply by virtue of walking under the branches.)

Running across someone who happens to be out cutting would is, in retrospect, something she probably should have expected at some point sooner or later. But Phryne is rather less interested in that then the fact that she's just stumbled across a fairly good-looking man who happens to be naked to the waist beside. And sure, there's a fairly impressive scar running down his back, but who doesn't have their share of scars? Even if they aren't all quite as visible.

Which is to say, one of the first direct indicators Bobo has that he's not alone anymore is the very approving noise Phryne makes at the sight. She'll get to words in a bit. Once she's done enjoying the view.

Setting the stick, he waits and watches. He's not sued to having those he can rely on, figuring if he's going to get things done right, he has to do it himself. That said, he finds it interesting there are people he might be able to rely on, to have help him. It's still odd to him.

"Yeah, almost every time," he admits, shrugging because it's just how things are. "Most people that have ever helped me out have done so with a reason. So I wonder what your reason is."

It's a very honest moment, more so than he typically offers, but what does it hurt him to be honest in this moment. "You ever built a trap like this?"

Bobo echoes that laugh, nodding. "It's interesting how many chances they'll take when they're vulnerable and likely to die quickly," he admits, shaking his head ruefully.

"And who turns down help? I've got a canvas sheet over there I'm using for a sled. Just trying to stack things there."

They. That is an interesting observation. Maybe something to bring up later once he got a better read on the guy. Or it could just be a mistake, but Bull knows better than to always believe the best in people. He was trained to do exactly this after all.

"Only people with too much pride." He takes a breath and then glances around the place, assessing how much risk he is in. If this is just a trap Bobo is setting him up for. Also something he can't help doing, something that got drilled into him after years of service to the Qun. But he walks over and picks up an armful of firewood and then brings it over to the sheet.

"You live out here in the woods or do you got a place in the village?"

"I... I'm not used to doing good things for others," he admits, being as honest because he just sees no reason to lie about it now. "But I also remember a village much like this one and I was like that then, so figured it might help to do the same thing now," he says, nodding.

"As you said, it's like it was then. A lot of this is how I remember things, and it makes it easier." Especially to be the better man than he's been for a century.

"I'm called Bobo," he admits, moving to lean against the counter, watching her curiously. "Actually I have a friend that could use a warm blanket. If I bring them to you, could you make something for them so they don't end up tormented and miserable this winter and I have to listen to them whine this winter?"

Carefully, Ty set the rock down near the sticks that the man had been setting, unable to help but laugh slightly at such an honest answer.

"Well, we're all stuck here for now, aren't we? So doing things to help each other in an effort to get along seems like the smart thing to do." He straightened, hands on his hips. "And catching a few fish wouldn't hurt."

At the question, he nodded, grinning a bit sheepishly. "Kind of? I wasn't too great it. I'd prefer to sit around and fish, but that's not as efficient."

Drawing back the axe, the sound Bobo hears is not that of wind over the metal of the blade. It's quite a distinctive sound, and one that he isn't entirely unfamiliar with. A slow smile curves his lips as he swings once more, letting the axe sink into the wood. Leaving it vibrating in the wood, he turns slowly to get a look at the face behind the voice.

And what a face it was. There was a demeanor there, a way that she carries herself, that Bobo recognizes from decades of watching and adapting as he saw fit.

So he moves to step forward, closing the distance a bit before he sketches a bow towards her. "Hello there. How might I help you?"

There's something about being in this place that sends him back more to the man he was. Not because he wishes to change, but except for one person, no one here knows him or his history and he realizes he can be just about anyone he wants.

Bobo snorts at that, rolling his eyes. "There's a lot of sayings about pride and falls," he notes, though he knows how bad that can be given the times his own pride has brought him down. Not that he is likely to see himself in the same boat as many.

Watching Iron Bull, taking in not just the look of him that is so much different than anything or anyone he's known and being curious about that. So many different things here, but Bull is definitely the most unique so Bobo isn't hiding his curiosity.

Especially in how careful he is about helping, and showing a sense of self protection that Bobo himself well knows.

"Down in the village. Close to the blacksmith building in the North village. Just needed some distance," he admits, though he doesn't sound upset having company as he moves to gather some of the wood and move it to the "sled".

"Yeah?" Bull glances back at him. A lot of people feel they need that distance. In his experience, it is because they are running from something. What Bobo would be running from would be the mystery. "Not a bad place to live. I ended up taking the first house I found with tall enough ceilings. Still need to work on getting a bed that is made for a Qunari. And maybe some sturdy furniture. This is almost as bad as some of the nobles in Orlais where it looks like I could break the furniture by looking at it."

He grins as he dumps the armful onto the 'sled' and goes to pick up another. "Not that I haven't enjoyed breaking some furniture in my time. Mostly beds." He gives Bobo another look over, not bothering to hide that he is doing so, and this time looking the guy over for other reasons than assessing danger.

"There isn't a lot of people up there is there? Seems like most of the things going on are in the south village."

"You do know that most don't do things that are smart," he notes, because not only has it been his experience, but in the end he can't say he's one of those men. He's done things for a lot of stupid reasons, and many of them spurred on by spite.

"And that's why I'm trying. Don't have the time to sit around, and definitely need a break from the stew," he says with a snort but it's partially a chuckle. "You ever run a trap line? If I had enough hooks, I would try that."

"That might be true, but people can surprise you when their lives are on the line." Ty headed back to shore to collect another large rock, hefting it carefully and heading back into the river. "Besides, there have to be some smart people here. People have planted crops, opened a hospital, and have taken shifts to wrangle in any newcomers."

"Have you been stuck here long?" Ty asked, a bit sympathetically. Other than the usual things like family, friends, and central heating, Ty was pretty sure he missed the variety of take out that he'd grown up with. He'd never been much of a cook, so the bland meals he'd been making were for sustenance and not taste. Unfortunately.

"I can make hooks for it out of branches or bones, but there's a forge here isn't there?"

"All these arts and crafts bungalows aren't made for someone with even my height," he says, rolling his eyes. "Whole damn thing makes me think about the nuclear test sites of the fifties. Not that I expect you to know what those are."

He laughs at that, amused by it. "Could cut and cure the wood, make your own. Anyone around here found a way to fashion nails? If not, could maybe snag some out of the empty houses." Which isn't safe for those houses, but eh. They needed places to live after all, and ways to find comfort.

Smirking at that, not at all bothered by the look. Actually, given he's spent a century as a demon, not bothered by the less than human features. "Well can't have that, can we? Have to figure out a way to not have things interrupted. Splinters are not fun."

He shakes his head though about that. "Not really. I make the hike down regularly, but I'm used to living on what I can scrounge and put together. Hence putting in firewood before things get too cold."

Bull shakes his head. He has no idea nope, he can make some guesses but he knows they are most likely wrong. "Not a bad idea, but I don't know how. That wasn't part of what I was trained for. Where I am from you're trained to do your job and leave the other jobs to the people who were trained to do them. And my job didn't involve carpentry." He shrugs, that just means his learning curve would be a bit steeper than most peoples. "I am sure Tony could make nails."

"A bit of pain and blood can be fun but only when it is planned." He nods at the putting together firewood. "Not a bad plan, I come from somewhere much warmer than this, but given the temperature right now I am guessing this place sees plenty of snow."

"Yeah, that's kind of how things were when I was ... When I was younger," he says, shrugging as he thinks about it. "I know a bit about carpentry, though fixing the wood for it? Not really. I tended to buy my lumber and go from there." Which isn't helping since there's no merchants and mercantile here. "You could ask around though. Everyone seems very excited about helping around here."

Which is so odd to him, but he's remembering a time when he was much the same way.

Pausing then, glancing at Bull, considering and not hiding that. "Most things are about if you want them or not. Splinters though? Still not fun," he says, smirking. "Worth it sometimes, but not fun. As for this place? Is it's like it looks... We're in for snow."

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Like autumn leaves his sense fell from

The wood

The Inn

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fishing

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The Woods

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