sixthiterationlogs | Go South Young Man

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Go South Young Man

WHO: Reeve Tuesti
WHERE: On Way to Southern Farm, At Southern Farm Site
WHEN: 2/9-2/13
OPEN TO: Anyone, Starter included for Brigitte
WARNINGS: None Yet

On the Way Down

He had to get out of town. That much was obvious after the flubbing things with Alistair. No, being here with no goals had been frustrating to him, and as much as Reeve wanted to stick around and check over the people he had helped down from the shrine, the farm was more important. So, with his message out of the network and a time planned out, he had headed toward the edge of town with his gear and waited for the people to join him. Once it was all done and the party was gathered, he guided them all off. It's a long walk, and he doesn't intend to lose time when he could keep it. There was a lot to be done.

Throughout the walk he's often there with a carefully controlled fire dancing above his fingers. Clearly he's playing a bit with the pyrokinesis that he picked up for himself. Probably useful, right? When he isn't doing that he's making notes on some paper pinned to a piece of cardboard a few times. Clearly even walking along the man is a busy sort of person, who isn't very good at relaxing.

Closed to Brigitte - My What Big Stakes You Have

Every time she stops to deal with a stake, Reeve stops next to Brigitte, watching her quietly as she woks. They're more than half a day into their walk before he actually pauses to ask.

"So what exactly does the forgemaster intend these for? A walking guide?"

"At The Site - Downtime

Once the reached the farm site, Reeve was quick to throw himself into work. Within minutes of arriving he had reclaimed most of his gear that had been left behind and was pouring over papers. After that it was revising plans. So much happening to the fact that it seems like Reeve doesn't even stop until the night has come.

And then, Reeve chills out in a way he hadn't even during the walk down. A gathering of everything for a small fire and with a gesture he lit the thing with his fire. Sitting near the fire he seems to finally relax, smiling softly as he considers the flames. Something about a fire after a day of hard work just speaks to him. Reminds him of a childhood he hasn't thought about since he was a kid.

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Gaius isn't sure just why he'd had the impulse to come down to the farm site. He knows it's a sensible idea to find out as much as he can, since the second farm is intended to supplement the village's stores. But he'd had the urge to come down here when he'd heard that Reeve was planning the expedition, and it's the first time he's ventured this far from the village deliberately. He's feeling the need to explore, go beyond the comfort of the storehouse and the Inn.

He's been walking around the site, even though the chill of night is falling. Gaius approaches the fire only after it's already roaring, and finds a patch of ground next to Reeve.

"This was a good idea," he says in his heavily-accented English. "I am glad to have been able to come here."

"It is a different sort of peaceful," Reeve agrees as he contemplates the fire. Every now and then a rather spirited spark leaps from it, and he gently twists the fingers of an outstretched hand, sending it back into the flames. Does he need to use the gestures for the level of control he exerts? No. But has he enjoyed it? Absolutely.

He leans back against the bit of large wood that he'd taken as a support for his back. It isn't much more comfortable than sitting on the ground itself. In fact, he's even folded a blanket under himself to protect him from the cold of the ground.

"Not that the village isn't nice. I'm just glad to be away for a bit."

The southern farm is a great place to get away from the bustle of town, especially if you can blend in with the scenery. Which wasn't actually Fern's intention when he lied down for a nap, but here he is, one with the bush at the edge of a bit of woods.

It's the smell that brings him slowly but surely to consciousness, and finally the bushes rustle and separate to form... a boy made of grass, wearing a hat that might have been made from a bear's head if it wasn't also clearly made of grass.

"Hmmm. What's cookin'?"

He looks up when the voice comes, not when the boy moves. Reeve was too busy relaxing to much care for the movement here. During his time he had come to be certain that this place was more or less safe. Beyond that he had the ability to protect himself now, and people in reach if he shouted. Of course, he was almost tempted to shout when he saw who it was. Mostly so he could have good company.

Because whether Fern remembered or recognized him, Reeve definitely recognized the grass boy. Remembered his attitude that night nearly a month and a half ago. He offers the boy an indifferent look. He is not amused.

"What's this? I thought you could do for yourself. Surely you don't need my fire."

Fern didn’t particularly remember Reeve, but the cold rebuke does spark some memories. He frowns. Thinking back, he can actually kind of understand why Reeve would be upset. He still feels the offer was suspicious and condescending, but for some reason he wants to make the man feel... better? It’s weird, and he doesn’t get it.

"I’m not a big fan of fire. What was your name again?"

"Reeve Tuesti," he says, and there is more dismissive tone to it.

Fern had most definitely left a very poor impression upon Reeve. To the point where he doesn't even bother to look at Fern. The boy might need to do a bit more if he expects conversation, even some someone who forgave as readily as Reeve.

They're marching south and following the curve of the river, and Brigitte keeps occasionally having to pause, hammer down another stake into the ground beside the river, and string a thickly-woven rope through the rings. Wash, rinse, repeat. It's meditative and oddly calming work, and sometimes the group moves on ahead while she works and Reeve watches her. Hammer. Repeat.

"It's for the river," she says, nodding towards the band of water beside them. "There's a new raft, and if we can get it hooked up to this guideline, then the raft can easily stay on-course to get down south and up again. Carrying supplies down and produce up. It'll be easier and faster than this hike."

A lot of upfront work, but it'll save time later and it's a useful endeavour -- and more importantly for Brig, it keeps her busy for a while.

"Genuine question, how will it use the guideline? Because the loops of the metal will block any conventional looping over the rope, wouldn't it?"

It's a question of logistics and he wonders if anyone has thought about that particular issue.

"Another question, how you'll get the raft upstream. Clearly we won't have engines. Do you intend to pole it?"

That is a choice. If they are going to use animals to pull it, then they'll have to clear some ground for that. It's all a thought problem that he quite enjoys. Enough to forget about his cares. And if he's being more direct in pointing out what he sees as potential issues than he might have other times.

"Reeve Tuesti," he repeats, making sure he remembers it this time.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here when I lied down."

And he doesn't know... how to make up for the other thing. What would Finn do?

"And, uh... I'm sorry for how I acted before. I shouldn't have... been like that." He scratches the back of his neck, still trying to work this all out.

"I'm not very good at, well, anything. Am I doing this right?"

Oh dear, the language there. Reeve has to resist the whole correcting grammar thing. For all he knows, it's proper for the young man's world. And he's at least had a few days of practice at not being... well, straightforward reactions.

Still, the apology makes him, soften a little. He lets out a bit of the annoyed bluster and considers the boy. He actually seems a bit sorry, and considers it carefully.

"The apology does some good."

He also grew up essentially in the woods fighting monsters with a sword, so grammar wasn't a big priority. He's never been much of a book learner.

"It does?" He brightens. Some good is still good.

"Thanks! I was so sure I was gonna donk it up."

'Donk'?

"It helps some, but only some," Reeve warned the boy. There was still much to be said about this. His behavior for one thing. "Why bother to apologize now?"

"There's a winch and pulley mechanism that can sort of, roll its way down the rope. Propelling it upstream, though, I'm not exactly sure what the plan will be besides someone just standing there and, yeah, poling." Another strike of the hammer, and she tests the stake with a few experimental shoves to be sure that it's rooted properly.

Satisfied, she grabs her bundle and starts walking again with Reeve beside her. And shoots him a wry smile: "I'm sure we're taking suggestions, if you have any." She's sure he'd enjoy the thought experiment, because what she knows of Reeve so far is that the man never, ever stops working the problem. They're pretty similar in that regard.

He frowns again, looking down at the ground. He's just as confused as Reese is, if not more.

"I don't know. I just realized how you must feel, and I guess I feel pretty bad about it."

"I have not been this far myself before, other than when we were taken to the shrine."

Gaius is wrapped in a cloak and tunic, and settling by the fire brings back fond memories of days when he'd traveled with the army and watched the soldiers share their comradeship around the warmth of a fire in the bitter Sardinian winter.

"You are doing a good thing here. It's good for the villages. I should have been more involved in it."

He's found himself questioning much about his life here today, about why he doesn't throw himself into the projects he'd had when he was in Rome. It's that same timidity that kept him in hiding from the public life after his brother's death.

That sounds familiar. Reeve holds up his wrist to show off his wristband.

"What color were you when you arrived, and what are you now?"

"I'm not qualified to speak on vehicles," Reeve answers rather curtly. Because he isn't. And then he bites his lip, because he realizes that wasn't how he would normally say this.

It's getting frustrating, to be honest, to have this happening to him. And he doesn't want to offend a friend.

"However I will see if I can't think of things. You work with Stark, right?"

Yes, the shrine. The very mention of it gets a minor sigh from Reeve. Wasn't that inconvenient? But him doing something here? What was he doing here was just building a bunkhouse.

"Involvement is a thing one chooses," Reeve considers. "This is a place to consider learning new skills, giving yourself in new ways. I am just lucky enough to be here with a skill that is valuable. And administrative experience to keep myself on track. And you?"

Who is this man, what does he do? Reeve can't help but wonder.

"Color?" Someone clearly missed the bus here.

"I guess I was wearing a lot of orange. Now I'm just green again." His watch has a gray band, though. Fern clearly isn't very thoughtful or observative.

"Let me see your wrist," Reeve directs. There's nothing but a clear order to it, with the tone of one used to being obeyed.

Whoops, he really didn't mean to be like that most of the time. Tried to avoid it actually. And yet, well, the boy is frustrating.

Desmond was quiet on the way there. He responded when people asked him things and he was easy to use for manual labor. Having no active interest in being a warrior doesn't take away the skills, the knowledge, the power, the strength, all of it at his fingertips. He likes using it for other people though, and he generally likes being useful more than shutting himself inside for weeks. It's a credit to how much this place has changed him for the good that he does decide to take Reeve up on his offer rather than stay inside.

He likes it down here. It's quiet. For all his attempts to deal with people more often, it's still a process, and he really does enjoy seeing more of the land they're on. He and Frank talked about going out on an adventure to explore, and he's looking forward to that. This was cool too. So he has things to do that aren't wallowing in self-hate and sadness.

He feels like they did accomplish some things, and that is nice. He sits by the fire and glances over to Reeve when he settles down, smiling faintly. "Is this the sort of thing you did back home?"

"I was a city person," Reeve admits. "Since I was in college. So no, this wasn't what I did back home."

Of course he means the fire, which he is currently using his power to shape some of the fire into pleasing forms. Then he smiles at Desmond, because he feels so relaxed right now.

"As a child, yes. Or do you mean the building?"

"I do. He's the forgemaster down at the southern smithy." With the stakes tucked under one elbow as they walk, she shoots Reeve a sidelong look with an arched eyebrow. She's not offended, as such, but she does notice his uncharacteristic tone -- thankfully, he'd already sort of warned her about it.

"Is this what you meant? About you being more direct than usual?"

"Obviously," he said, and then looked like he was beyond annoyed. "Well fuck."

Even he seems a bit shocked by his curse. That was... uncommon. With a sigh he reached up to rub at his temples. This was beyond a headache. It was worse now that he knew what was going on. Sort of. Of course he didn't know what was going on. But he realized there was an obvious change, and it was away from everything he had built himself to be. Everything he had become to combat the phase in his life where he was like this.

"Next thing you know I'll slip into the brogue and then we'll all lose respect for me."

"Brogue? What brogue? I think you should go ahead and share it, now that you've mentioned it." Brigitte has a tendency to tease her loved ones, and so of course she latches onto this juicy tidbit that he's given her. "I mean, it's only fair as a present, after you have been so rude to me."

She's kidding.

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Go South Young Man

Downtime (with bonus orange personality)

Re: Downtime (with bonus orange personality)

Downtime! with a little mental makeover

Forgive Me, We Know Yellow and Reeve Mix Poorly.

Light gray is a good look on Fern

Re: Light gray is a good look on Fern

my, what big stakes you have

Re: my, what big stakes you have

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handwaves handwaves pretend the details work bc i don't know shit

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Re: handwaves handwaves pretend the details work bc i don't know shit

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Downtime I know I'm late

Re: Downtime I know I'm late

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