sixthiterationlogs | I felt so far off from the ground I stood on

WHO: Bobo Del Rey
WHERE: Around the village
WHEN: Latter part of March
OPEN TO: ota
WARNINGS: Will update as needed though hunting and aggression

Finally facing the past - Shine Bird

If it's not edible, or won't benefit him, Bobo hasn't done much research on the animals in this place. Certainly he's considered the records, studied what is beneficial to him and his, but a lot of it he just kind of looked over.

Such as the fact that some birds are freaking emotional sirens hanging out by the water where he happens to be, checking the trap lines and all he's set up for fish and crustaceans. So it never occurs to Bobo why he's ended up sitting on the shore, huddled into his fur coat, head bowed and crying.

Heavy tears pouring down his face, the sound of his sobs soft and choked as he buries his hand in his face and mourns for a woman that abandoned him to die, whose death had made accepting Hell over torture more acceptable. Who had been everything like him, and had hurt him because they were so alike, and who had been the only person he had ever loved in a century and a half.

Dumb ass animals are dumb - Squirrel Dog

Kevlar gloves have been the only thing keeping Bobo's hands in one piece while he works on the stone blade knives he's come to appreciate and actually enjoy making. Having one of those gloves snatched up by some fluffball is not in the day's plans.

"Come on, you tiny little bit of nothing, give it back," he growls, having spent the better part of three hours either chasing the damn thing, or using food to try and lure it in. Neither of which seems to be working as of yet.

Currently Bobo is laying on belly down on the ground, his fur tossed aside and his clothes dusty as he holds out a bit capful of alcohol he stole from his roommate, figuring if he can get the damn thing wasted, maybe he can get back his glove.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"My damn kevlar gloves. When I catch it, I'm going to feed it to that damn dog," he snarls, not at all worried that Foggy isn't intimidated. Even if when he lifts his head, his eyes are red.

"Hey, chill. You're getting worked up and for most animals? The more you chase and shout, the more excited they get thinking it's a game. How about we sit down, I'll use the armoured skin thing to protect hands and maybe if you ignore it, it'll come out to find you and we can try to bribe it into dropping the glove. Sound like a plan?"

His eyes narrow, still maintaining that demonic hue. "I could just roast it alive and then eat it," he snarls. "Or if I had my ability, I would be able to use the glove to kill it from here," he says, just really upset and fed up and emotions and pain that he's kept in for months now creeping to the surface.

"Hey, hey, Bobo." Foggy tries to take his hands. "It's not worth all this anger. I promise you. What's really going on, buddy?"

He draws a deep breath, his gaze mere slits, gleaming red as he stares at Foggy for the longest time. Yet all he does is stare until, after a long moment, his eyes slowly fade to blue.

"It's mine," he says, knowing that sounds childish and he doesn't care. "And I'm tired of the world taking away what's mine." And suddenly this is about way more than a glove.

Okay. Not about the glove at all.

"Okay... it's a small animal, and it's not doing it to antagonise you. You know that, but you're frustrated. I get it. Which is why I'm suggesting that you sit down and do some work, I can protect your hands, and you let me work on getting the glove back, okay? I'm your friend, let me help."

For a long time, chest heaving and his eyes narrowed, Bobo just stares at Foggy. He's trying to let the words get to him, to accept them, so that after a time he gives a single nod.

"Okay. Okay. I'll try that," he says. "I'll try it your way," he says, which shows that he is truly trying. "You shouldn't have to though," he says in a low voice, even as he moves to get to his feet.

"I don't have to," Foggy points out. "I'm offering to help a friend out. It's not really a hardship to sit here and chat and watch you work. Certainly beats butchering more wood in the name of a crucifix."

His brow furrows, not even sure what to think of that and what it means. "Are you suddenly praying to God?" Frowning at that, his nose wrinkling. "You run into that guy that claims he's Satan too?"

Because maybe that would encourage it in some. So far not in Bobo though.

Foggy laughs. "No, Matty's Catholic, though. We've been making rosary beads together, but the crucifix is taking a lot more skill than I have.... Lucifer? Yeah, a few times. In his world, maybe he is the Devil. My world has a Thor and Loki, why not Lucifer in another one?"

Bobo laughs at that, giving him a look. "I guess that's one reason to believe into it. I don't care either, but if he thinks this is Hell? His Hell is way nicer than mine," he says, making a face. What he talks about wouldn't have made the monster that Bobo is. Not as he sees it.

"Yeah, I have to admit, this is not what I picture when I think of Hell. I don't think Hell would give us random gifts and time off between troubles." He picks up a discarded stone, turning it in his fingers. "I talked to him about his Hell. It wasn't the one you hint at."

"I like you well enough not to talk about what it's really like," he says, meaning that. "But apparently it was a better choice than being without Willa," he says with a snort.

"Why I know this place is not Hell. It's given me everything I thought I'd never have," he admits. "Good friends. A home." He chuckles softly, shrugging. "Maybe more," he says, thinking about how he had thought Willa was all the lvoe he'd ever have and maybe that's not the case, and he's excited for that, to learn what chances he has.

"This place isn't even hell-ish to me. I mean, I'm not happy with the whole lack of power and hot water and things I like in my life and take away food... I miss take away so much. But it's far from hell. I lived with a Catholic for years, I heard a lot about hell and it doesn't involve comfortable houses, enough to eat and pleasant company."

This place is more like a reality tv show, to his mind. Or a social experiment.

"Isn't that the damn truth," Bobo sighs, thinking about it and how much he misses it for a second. "I had almost stopped thinking about it," he snorts. "I'll give you that one though."

He nods at that. "It's everything you heard and more," he admits, shrugging. "Though I don't believe as many go there as they'd have you believe. It's not like that. Not at all," he admits.

"We should talk about something more cheerful," Foggy offers. "You've really made a go of this knapping thing with the stones, some of these are really nice. Do you think one of these would be any good for skinning?"

He chuckles at that, almost smiling at that. "They're coming out pretty well," he agrees with a nod. "Nice for something I've never tried," he agrees, glad for how they've been coming out. He pauses, considering that. "There's some I did that wouldn't make great knives but they might be good for that. I was hoping to get them that way, make things easier than what we have already."

Foggy keeps playing with some slivers, letting the weak sunlight catch the sheer planes and highlight the variations of greys and almost silvers in it.

And he's aware of a little nose appearing near him, clearly curious about why it's now being ignored.

"Plus there's the guy in the forge near here. He's fine with making blades."

He snorts at that, giving Foggy a look. "Way you say that sounds like you know why I started making them. Didn't like being told I couldn't be armed by someone that could make them for those he wanted to, and I wasn't making any promises about not hurting people," he says with a snort, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah. It's odd getting people up here working. Especially since I think of it as my village," he says with a laugh.

I felt so far off from the ground I stood on - OTA

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject