sixthiterationlogs | Theres magic everywhere

Entry tags:

Theres magic everywhere

WHO: Thorfinn
WHERE: Around the Village
WHEN: Saturday, October 29th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Open!

Thorfinn's day hadn't started well, loud screams ripping through the house until he was pulled out of his sleep by either or both of those he lived with. The nightmares were worse than than had been for a long time, he had sat at the end of his bed staring off into space until he realize what was outside of his open window. Snow. He shot across the room fast taking in a deep breath of the cold air outside. Like a child at yule, it was everything his soul needed.

The cold sticking to his face. He smiled leaning half out the window, it was only when a few snow flakes landed on his bare chest he remembered that it wasn't the best idea. Pulling himself back inside it was time to get to work. Layers. Layers were important in the snow. The long johns pulled on under the outfit chosen for the day. The stained up scrubs pants and the tunic Kate made. He pulled the black wool coat from the back. It wasn't a style he knew but he had asked about it before and pulled it on. He made his way out of the room stopping long enough to clean his face and braid his hair down over his ears to keep them warm. He was already missing a chunk of one, so he tended to style his hair over the ear to hide the fact it was missing a bit.

"Going for wood, we will need more!" He called upstairs before closing the door. he didn't bother making a fire, he was sure Jo or Kol would take care of it if they intended to stay indoors. No sense burning wood if no one would be home. Once he was outside he found himself unbuttoning the coat again. Strange, he expected it to be much colder. The snow was nice though.

Swinging the axe over his shoulder he headed for the woods.

It was around noon when he made his way back from dropping more wood off at home. He was brushing wood chips off himself as he made his way across the village. Trying to decide if he should go to the inn and see how Kate and the other's were holding up, or go to the blacksmith to give forging the Bog iron another try. In the end he just ended up walking with his arms crossed over his chest. Taking in the beauty of the world around him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Your welcome, I'm always glad to help." He replied as he took what she offered over. He had honestly expected it all, but he said nothing and smiled anyway. His sister would have done the same, he knew that much. Some woman were built of stronger stock.

"I know the seasons well." He spoke shifting so he could move to walk along side of her, since he didnt know where she lived. He actively tries not to pay that much attention. "As soon as the leaves start to change after the killing moon, winter comes. Usually after wintersnight which I didn't expect quite yet. This place isn't exact to places I have traveled, but close enough to guess." He explained, looking a bit pleased to it.

"I can't be upset by it though, I love the snow. My home is very cold, even now the snow would be much higher by now in Iceland."

The heavy load means Nerys isn't walking as fast as usual, though certainly fast enough to keep warm. She adjusts her pace, though, to make it more obvious which direction she's going, so Thorfinn knows. After all, she certainly hasn't memorized every location in the village.

"The killing moon," she echoes, brow furrowing a little, making sure they keep apace for the sake of conversation. It takes a second to dawn on her. "Oh, the frost. That's a poetic way of putting it, I've never heard that before." The phenomenon happens on Bajor, of course, but that turn of phrase doesn't.

"I'm less upset than I am worried. I don't know how well we're supplied for a winter. Not food as much as clothes and boots."

Thorfinn made sure to match her pace, trying to not walk any faster than her so he could follow her directions. He was pretty good at picking up subtle changes in direction. Though he had the village mentally mapped out, who lived where wasn't on that mental map.

"..I... do not know how to say it proper in English. It is not the frost, but a certain moon. Signaling the start of the month we prepare for winter. The plants start to die. English words do not always match up." Mostly he didn't know the word slaughter yet. Slaughter was the word he was looking for.

"While I worry about wood for warmth. This is what I do so often." He rarely went to the daily lunches, always saying he was busy since the axes arrived with the weapons. "Mark's garden and the forest will provide food. We just must hope for the best and remember that once spring comes things will improve. "Margaery has sheep and wool, so clothes can be made. But boots... we may end up doing as my people do. Boots made of fish skin, leather and fur." He did miss his old boots.

Nerys nods, understanding. "Yes, I know the month you mean," she says. "Back home, we call it..." She makes a face, still walking, as she tries to convert the words into English. "The turning month, I guess is the best way to put it. Not as poetic when it isn't in my language. As you said, the words don't always match up."

She laughs softly, shaking her head, then nods towards her house--it's less attractive than it had been when she arrived, considering that she's had to cobble together post-earthquake repairs and oil-paper for the windows, but she's doing all right.

"We need more axes, to get more wood," she notes aloud, walking around the bungalow to the woodbox at the side. "Though we need to be sustainable--sorry, that is, careful not to take more than can grow back."

"Same problem... my language it is Gormánuður" He spoke the word, which despite sounding heavier in his own language sounded more proper coming from him, not having to make sure he was saying the right words, being at ease with his own language. "English is hard... but less hard than no one understanding." He spoke as he walked with her.

He looked a bit wide eyed at the repairs. Though he didn't really understand how these houses worked. "The shakes hurt your home to?" He asked assuming as he followed to put the wood she had let him take with the rest. "We do... one of those boxes that comes gifted me one. I had to find a handle for it, but maybe more will come?"

"I know the feeling. I learned Standard...I mean English...for the same reasons." The other tongue sounds noticeably right, to Nerys, tripping from Thorfinn's mouth. It makes her smile a little as she drops the wood as carefully as possible (that is, not very) into the box.

"The shakes--the earthquake--destabilized my..." She trails off, realising the word is probably unfamiliar to him. "It made the base, the foundations, unstable, but didn't bring the house down. I was able to put up supports so people can still use it."

She snorts wryly, leaning against the side of the bungalow, rubbing her biceps to loosen them up a little. "Everyone seems to be getting gift boxes. I haven't had one, I don't know if that's good or bad." At least Thorfinn's gift seems useful, as compared to some.

Thorfinn nodded, a smile crossing his features. "It is hard being alone." He agreed as he followed her move placing the wood in the box after her. "If you run short one night, you are free to come to Kol's house and I will give you some of the wood I have already split." He offered since he was worried about the survival of the others.

"I do not understand these homes." he admitted. "I am used to turf or wood. I can repair those. This... this I can not. It is to advanced." He hated admitting what he couldn't do. "Many houses are hurt but usable."

"I've gotten two but I do not understand why. It is strange to me. Things that are needed and yet not made to everyone. Even things unneeded. I was given a blade made just for shaving. I do no intend to remove my beard, I could have already done so." The gifts confused him, as he had never seen a straight blade before Jo explained it.

"For me," Nerys admits, "it's not advanced enough. Too simple. Where I'm from, things are..." But how the hell does one explain computers to someone like Thorfinn, she realises before she even finishes the sentence. "Things are very complicated. You get used to it, even people who have almost nothing. But maybe it's better, here, to know less advanced things. Those ways aren't bad ways."

She pauses, rubbing her forearms, and hopes like hells that she's not being condescending, because she truly means it--he is far better equipped than she is, for this kind of place. "The shaving blade is called a razor," she says. "I guess you shave with a knife, where you're from? It might be useful for something else, cutting fine things."

"For many it is the same. My time... is far back from many. Far enough back that my language and culture are dead." At least to his understanding. "Many things are much better here. Like hot water without having to boil and wait." It made him smile to say it. He should have listened to everyone a long time ago. "Veronica showed me the indoor water is not evil." which he had thought since the flood. For good reason, as indoor plumbing wasn't a thing in his time, at least not in a real way.

He was pretty hard to offend when it came to multiverse fuckery. He actually understood a little of computers because of the device from Medietas that had helped him speak to people and translate words so he could read them. Not that he even knew what to call the device. He nodded to her question. "Yes, always a sharp one, the razor..." He spoke the word after she said it, always just soaking in the new words. "is much sharper, I like it. It is easier to carry." That said he reached back into the pocket of the jacket he was wearing but didn't have buttoned, pulling the straight blade from his pocket and offering it over her way to see.

"It wont help with hunting, but many other things."

"Maybe not dead, but changed," says Nerys, though she isn't entirely sure all of which human cultures are extant in her own time. "Though maybe that is somewhat the same, in a way." In that case, though, the Bajoran cultures from before the Occupation, were, in their own way, dead too, and that was the source of so many people's fear--including, unfortunately, the Kai's own.

She smiles at the hot water comment, then takes the razor and looks it over--the weight of the metal shows that it's good quality, and the handle is solid as well. Briefly, she checks the blade against the side of her ring finger and notes with the faint well of blood that it's fantastically sharp. Wiping it off, she closes it and hands it back, nodding. "It's a good one, and a good present. Helps after the hunting is done--probably would be useful if we were to make leather."

"Yes, changed. Changed sounds right. The way the English spoke back home is much different than the English I have learned here. Cultures steal from one another, like the Angles and the Saxons from the Celts." As much as he hated the man who raised him and grumbled for him to stop talking to him, he had learned a lot of history from the man. Askeladd had a major issue with the Angelo-Saxon people... and well everyone who not Welsh. He choose not to mention his own raiding culture, he knows history documented that well enough. His time in Medietas taught him what his people were remembered for. He couldn't even argue it with his old life.

"That is why I carry it, I intend to try and make some leather if I can." He shrugged some then. "I try to do all I can to fill the time."

"My people all speak the same language, but differently in sound in different places," observes Nerys thoughtfully. "Our cultures all stole from each other so much that they became very close. It took thousands of years, though, and we do change some anyway."

She's not really sure how to explain the not human thing to most people, but maybe Thorfinn will understand from the fact she's implying she's not from any of the cultures he's mentioned.

"As for filling the time..." She laughs, wryly. "I know what you mean. It keeps me from thinking too much, but I would like some books here, or something, now that it's getting colder and we'll need to be inside more. Or maybe people know some good stories? I've got a few." They're harrowing as all the hells, of course.

"Ahh yes, I understand. I sound different from many others because I am a Icelander, and I traveled with the Danish. My speaking is different because of it." Despite the fact his parents were Danish by birth, he had picked his accent up in his youth, playing with all the other children and listening to Leif's stories. His travels had not helped with making him sound like everyone else. As far as he could tell he was the only person who spoke the way he did in this place. Even Kol being Norse by birth didn't sound like him, even Thor sounded different. "It is amazing to hear of such change. Are things more peaceful in your time and place?" He asked curiously.

The fact she's not human still went over his head, but he didn't see her as very different. Just a pretty woman with interesting features.

"Yes, this exactly. Though, I can not read english..." He didn't say all together. Though reading was rare in his time, he could read and write runes as well as most highly educated men. "so books would do me little good. But stories do sound like fun if you ask me. It is how my people passed many a long voyage."

"Are things more peaceful..." Nerys laughs wryly at the thought of it, then quickly clarifies, "Sorry, Thorfinn, I'm not laughing at you--it's just that my people have only just now had some peace after a very long war. An awful war. We were..."

She tries to find a word in Standard that conveys the enormity of the situation but is familiar enough to someone newer to the language. "Another race of people took over our home. Forced us into camps, made us basically slaves, and we have just become free. But it seems like just when things get better, something else goes wrong, and it was when I left. I guess it's probably like that for you, for everyone, in some way." In Nerys' experience, peace--even for the Federation--isn't something that lasts; as long as people disagree, there'll be conflict.

"But it might make for a good story to tell, some evening. You might like it but other people might find it upsetting."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Theres magic everywhere

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject