Thorfinn Thorsson }{ Karlsefni (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seekingvinland) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2016-10-13 12:04 pm
seekingvinland) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-10-13 12:04 pm
The gods are laughing.
WHO: Thorfinn Thorsson
WHERE: The Inn, House #8, The River.
WHEN:One Backdated to October 9th // The other for October 13th
OPEN TO: One thread closed to Sam, the rest OTA
WARNINGS: Some heavy cursing in Norse?
STATUS: Open
Backdated to the 9th: Closed to Sam
Once the rain had stopped, Thorfinn had been quick to get back to his daily tasks, he had days to make up for after all. When he came in the afternoon to drop off lumber he heard about the fact Kate and Margaery was missing, and he hadn't seen Margaery that morning, which in itself was strange but he didn't see reason for alarm when they were only out of sight a few hours at most. They had been seen at breakfast then gone after they went into the woods.
If it had been anyone else he would have rolled his eyes and gotten back to work, but it was both Kate and Margaery, and people were going off to look for them. So he watched and listened a few minutes before he looked to the person nearest him, Sam Wilson.
"You want me to go with?" He offered, though still he didn't look too concerned. If it had been a full day he'd be worried, but a few hours was not a big deal in his eyes. Kate was capable, and Margaery was learning.
OTA; Morning October 13th.
Thorfinn was making his way out the front door of House #8, he usually headed from the back door to the inn to collect and axe and get to work, today he was aching from a worse night of sleep than usual so he was going to skip out on collecting wood for the day and get to following the river. He made his way out finishing the last touch of his braids, twisting them into themselves to hold in place. While he messed with his hair he managed to trip on the box sitting on the porch and hit his knee in the process.
"Ríða! Stykki af skít, hvað í fjandanum!"
He had not expected something on the porch much less that heavy. The box was more or less crushed under his weight, and when he shifted off of it and realized there was a point sticking out dangerously close to where his leg had landed on the box. No wonder it hurt like it did. Thorfinn he realized it was the way the last box had displayed his name, of course the rest of his name was there. He shifted to sit cross legged despite the smarting pain in his leg. This was for him. Why were their captors giving him strange gifts, and leaving them in a place he could kill himself?
Tearing the box the rest of the way from the place the blade was sticking out he quickly realized what it was. An axe head it was unlike the ones he was used to, closer to the ones that came in the weapons crates but still strange in its hammer like end. He looked over the heavy item a few moments before he slowly looked up unamused. His face twisting to anger.
They gave him and axe.
An axe with no handle.
He was going to have to go fashion a handle and hoped it could support that weight. "Þetta er ekki fjandans fyndið." He placed the axe-head aside with a loud thunk. Looking to the rest of the crushed box, his eyes going wide. Wheat seeds.
He knew what they were by the sight of them. Looking up at the sky, then back towards the back yard…. He needed to make himself a little field and get these planted before it got to late, Einar had taught him Wheat could be planted in the fall. It wouldn't be able to be harvested in time for winter, but it might be good to do for next year if they are still here, if not maybe it could help someone else in the future. He just sat there staring at the box for a little while.
OTA: Following the river.
The axe-head was in his bag over his shoulder, but the wheat seeds had been left in his room. Thorfinn got to work quickly on moving to the river to start following it. He was looking for off orange coloring, for signs of bog iron. He wasn't an expert and his lessons on the stuff had been ages ago when he was in Medietas, but, it was something worth looking into. A possibility of getting the smith up and running. He didn't have high hopes on finding the bog iron, but, it was worth a shot to try. Worse come to worse he'd time to find a stick worthy of whittling down into a handle for the axe-head.
WHERE: The Inn, House #8, The River.
WHEN:One Backdated to October 9th // The other for October 13th
OPEN TO: One thread closed to Sam, the rest OTA
WARNINGS: Some heavy cursing in Norse?
STATUS: Open
Backdated to the 9th: Closed to Sam
Once the rain had stopped, Thorfinn had been quick to get back to his daily tasks, he had days to make up for after all. When he came in the afternoon to drop off lumber he heard about the fact Kate and Margaery was missing, and he hadn't seen Margaery that morning, which in itself was strange but he didn't see reason for alarm when they were only out of sight a few hours at most. They had been seen at breakfast then gone after they went into the woods.
If it had been anyone else he would have rolled his eyes and gotten back to work, but it was both Kate and Margaery, and people were going off to look for them. So he watched and listened a few minutes before he looked to the person nearest him, Sam Wilson.
"You want me to go with?" He offered, though still he didn't look too concerned. If it had been a full day he'd be worried, but a few hours was not a big deal in his eyes. Kate was capable, and Margaery was learning.
OTA; Morning October 13th.
Thorfinn was making his way out the front door of House #8, he usually headed from the back door to the inn to collect and axe and get to work, today he was aching from a worse night of sleep than usual so he was going to skip out on collecting wood for the day and get to following the river. He made his way out finishing the last touch of his braids, twisting them into themselves to hold in place. While he messed with his hair he managed to trip on the box sitting on the porch and hit his knee in the process.
"Ríða! Stykki af skít, hvað í fjandanum!"
He had not expected something on the porch much less that heavy. The box was more or less crushed under his weight, and when he shifted off of it and realized there was a point sticking out dangerously close to where his leg had landed on the box. No wonder it hurt like it did. Thorfinn he realized it was the way the last box had displayed his name, of course the rest of his name was there. He shifted to sit cross legged despite the smarting pain in his leg. This was for him. Why were their captors giving him strange gifts, and leaving them in a place he could kill himself?
Tearing the box the rest of the way from the place the blade was sticking out he quickly realized what it was. An axe head it was unlike the ones he was used to, closer to the ones that came in the weapons crates but still strange in its hammer like end. He looked over the heavy item a few moments before he slowly looked up unamused. His face twisting to anger.
They gave him and axe.
An axe with no handle.
He was going to have to go fashion a handle and hoped it could support that weight. "Þetta er ekki fjandans fyndið." He placed the axe-head aside with a loud thunk. Looking to the rest of the crushed box, his eyes going wide. Wheat seeds.
He knew what they were by the sight of them. Looking up at the sky, then back towards the back yard…. He needed to make himself a little field and get these planted before it got to late, Einar had taught him Wheat could be planted in the fall. It wouldn't be able to be harvested in time for winter, but it might be good to do for next year if they are still here, if not maybe it could help someone else in the future. He just sat there staring at the box for a little while.
OTA: Following the river.
The axe-head was in his bag over his shoulder, but the wheat seeds had been left in his room. Thorfinn got to work quickly on moving to the river to start following it. He was looking for off orange coloring, for signs of bog iron. He wasn't an expert and his lessons on the stuff had been ages ago when he was in Medietas, but, it was something worth looking into. A possibility of getting the smith up and running. He didn't have high hopes on finding the bog iron, but, it was worth a shot to try. Worse come to worse he'd time to find a stick worthy of whittling down into a handle for the axe-head.
no subject
It still makes something stutter in her chest for just a second. A kind of ache she can't describe, or word at all.
Jo pushed up from her spot on the stair next to him, and shoving over his box as she moved, sat herself down on the step below his, where the box had been, slipping between his feet. Casual as the first one touch of his hand, habit in some ways, that wasn't exactly, but she could walk those steps and say it was, that she knew it was. Whether it was or wasn't.
She could throw a smirk over her shoulder, and just ask, while waiting for him to start,
"Is this your way of saying you're not admitting you like me, then?"
no subject
His eyes tracked her as she moved, moving the box and placing herself between his feet. He had reached to pull the comb he carried from his pocket out to pull it gently through her hair to start parting when she asked her question, looking over her shoulder at him. He gave a soft smile, almost embarrassed. "Of course I like you Jo. Your the most important person here to me. No one else really knows anything..." And yet he cant help but think of the words Cougar had said says ago in the blacksmith.
no subject
She doesn't entirely have it to an order, but she can face forward, and look at the building in front of the house while he starts.
It's soft, almost tickles, and even though she says she's getting used to it, there's something new still there everytime.
"Well, that last part, I can agree with." Even if it wasn't entirely true. People were smart here, but they really did know a whole lot of nothing. Nothing about him, about this place, not a whole lot about each other really still at this point, too.
no subject
Something about doing this with Jo makes him feel closer to her. He knows not many would be permitted. It started to help him, but, it went on because he enjoyed it. It was the most he stayed still when he wasn't asleep... or eating... or speaking to someone.
"It is true," he spoke softly as if fearful of being overheard. "They will never know what we dont share... I've only told Cougar and Jess things." Maybe it was a little sexist, but he felt they would understand more. "You know more, you taught me english, and helped me so much. I owe you everything here, Jo."
no subject
His voice grew quieter, hushed, almost, and she could almost picture him looking down as he did, even while having to focus on whatever part of her hair was in his deft fingers then. If it wasn't for her eyes being mostly closed, she might have given a predictable eye roll. Jo Harvelle was the last person who gave a damn what people here thought about the fact she was living with two men, in a place where all three of them were hardly seen sometimes.
She'd grown up in a bar of rowdy, rough men, and she'd just come from owning a place where only one, and then two other girls lived. People could think whatever the fuck they wanted. They could think she had orgies every night. She'd stopped caring what the world at wide thought of her decades ago. They rarely knew a cent of truth about her or hers. Rarely had reason to, or for her to give any more than the acquiescence to using them for their own assumptions.
But his later words, made her shift a little. Turning her head to look back to her shoulder and him, even though she knew it would mean he might have to do a part again. "You owe me nothing. Do you understand? You're fine here because you made the choice to be. No one else did that for you."
no subject
But his thoughts of cutting his own hair didn't matter as much while he worked on Jo's, he loved the look of her hair on her. He had such a thing for long hair, things he didn't notice until he really had the time to think about it, which was mostly while being here. He had a lot of time to think.
He realized as she pulled back that was going to have to fix that part again, but he offered a soft smile when she spoke. "You can say that, Jo. It does not change how I feel. Yes, I decided, but you helped, you did not let me give up." Not that giving up was an option. He wondered if he should tell her about Cougar's talk with him. Throw it out there, but just the idea had his cheeks heating without having said a word. His hands moving from her hair to rest his elbow on his knees while she was looking at him.
no subject
Jo blew a breath out of her nose, but she was shifting to put herself back in the right direction, crossing her arms low against her stomach and her thighs. "I'm not very good at that." She meant a lot of things. Too many of them beat on her brain like a tin can, pinging off words she didn't say. Leaving her with the first one she meant, and at least the one that won out for today. "Giving up."
no subject
no subject
It's a hard thing to hear and she considered two or three jokes, given she was already too serious only the minute ago there. No matter how true it was. He was like a lifeline here, but those were not things she could put into words. They were not words, or ideas, she would allow anyone here to take from her and use as the next thing to gut and gore her on.
Not to mention she could be shitastic at deserving that in the long run. Especially by those who meant it most, to them and her. She watched the space in front of them for a long time, letting him get back to what he was doing, "I'll try not to make you regret that."
no subject
no subject
It makes it so light that all she says, pushing up from the step, and brushing her braid here back is. "Yeah, Yeah." Blase and brusque, even at quiet and almost fondly dismissive. "I'll leave what's left of your box in your room."
no subject
He didn't know Jo as well as he liked to think though.
He offered a grin back her way as he moved into the house. "Thank you Jo, your the best Jo." They rubbed off on him in the best ways, though he was sincere, there was a bit of smartass in his tone. "Leave it, I'll grab it later so I can get a handle for the axe head." And he would forget and trip on it again soon.
And that should be a good close on them both.
She shook her head, leaning down to pick up what was left of the box, and smiled, heading in after him.