Jo Harvelle runs on 100 proof attitude power (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tobeclosetohim) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2016-11-13 07:11 pm
tobeclosetohim) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2016-11-13 07:11 pm
{ raining blood, from a lacerated sky
WHO: Jo Harvelle, a dead elk, and you!
WHERE: In front of The Inn
WHEN: November 13
OPEN TO: Everyone (Especially those in the inn or close enough to hear!)
WARNINGS: Animal Death's w/ Mutilation, Manipulation, Gore, Blood
STATUS: Open
People have been sticking close to the buildings, to each other, to not being out late after dark if they can help it, and even then, almost never alone. There's a charged air to everything, like a shot about to crack, or like they are strung up and held in a never ending loop on that second of shock the moment after the crack sounds, before the body can relax again.
Mapping has slowed to nothing this week, and Jo's among the many who remind people to be more careful when hunting right now. The Village seeming less and less safe with the animals that had appeared in the wide open of the buildings and fountain, with no one seeing anything, which made the dark, closed in shadows of the forest seems even darker and even more closed in.
She's as much not expecting it as expecting it, whens she opens the door, intending to head to the house she's sharing with Kol and Thorfinn, and there's a huge hulking animal form mountained right in front of the path into and out of the Inn. The same path people walked all day to get food, and everything else.
"Fuck," is revulsion for the smell, black and bloody and something else, the sheer size of the body, the still towering form, with its cracked and somehow dangling antlers, before her hand is tightening on the door still in it and she's calling back inside. "We've got another one!"
Jo goes for the knife in her boot even though there hasn't been an attacked attached to one yet, before she's headed down to the huge beast. It looks like the others have all reported in, and gotten written down by her. Ripped apart by teeth and claws, chunks of flesh hanging here and there, but nothing taken, nothing missing. Limbs twisted and contort in impossible ways, pointing toward the door.
The blood everywhere all around it. On the steps. On porch. On the door.
More like it was thrown than like it sprayed in an attack.
The same as the animal that looks like it was dropped -- no, placed -- so far from where it ever might be found in this place. Leaving Jo looking quickly all around there. The whole wide space of the creeping, settling early night dark of this place.
WHERE: In front of The Inn
WHEN: November 13
OPEN TO: Everyone (Especially those in the inn or close enough to hear!)
WARNINGS: Animal Death's w/ Mutilation, Manipulation, Gore, Blood
STATUS: Open
People have been sticking close to the buildings, to each other, to not being out late after dark if they can help it, and even then, almost never alone. There's a charged air to everything, like a shot about to crack, or like they are strung up and held in a never ending loop on that second of shock the moment after the crack sounds, before the body can relax again.
Mapping has slowed to nothing this week, and Jo's among the many who remind people to be more careful when hunting right now. The Village seeming less and less safe with the animals that had appeared in the wide open of the buildings and fountain, with no one seeing anything, which made the dark, closed in shadows of the forest seems even darker and even more closed in.
She's as much not expecting it as expecting it, whens she opens the door, intending to head to the house she's sharing with Kol and Thorfinn, and there's a huge hulking animal form mountained right in front of the path into and out of the Inn. The same path people walked all day to get food, and everything else.
"Fuck," is revulsion for the smell, black and bloody and something else, the sheer size of the body, the still towering form, with its cracked and somehow dangling antlers, before her hand is tightening on the door still in it and she's calling back inside. "We've got another one!"
Jo goes for the knife in her boot even though there hasn't been an attacked attached to one yet, before she's headed down to the huge beast. It looks like the others have all reported in, and gotten written down by her. Ripped apart by teeth and claws, chunks of flesh hanging here and there, but nothing taken, nothing missing. Limbs twisted and contort in impossible ways, pointing toward the door.
The blood everywhere all around it. On the steps. On porch. On the door.
More like it was thrown than like it sprayed in an attack.
The same as the animal that looks like it was dropped -- no, placed -- so far from where it ever might be found in this place. Leaving Jo looking quickly all around there. The whole wide space of the creeping, settling early night dark of this place.
no subject
"It hasn't escalated at least. It's still only outside that we find these things." Small comfort as it was.
no subject
"Each of these animals should have been able to put up a better fight against whatever it was than the last one before it. They've been fiercer, more aggressive, larger--" She gave a wave at the huge body of the bull elk. The thing that would have to be five to seven times the weight of either of them. "--and they're each taken down like it's nothing. As though they didn't even get to fight back or struggle, score their attacker at all."
It was a type of escalation. It might not have been a violation of a house yet, but it was getting worse still.
no subject
"You would think there would be screams at night." It had always been quiet, eerily so. An elk would make noise as it was ripped apart. Her sheep would have screamed. None of those things happened, they were simply found where on the ground. "Do you think we are next?"
no subject
This is the point where you lie. Naivety only helps your murderer then.
There's a chill down her spine, saying, "I don't know."
no subject
"Will you teach me to defend myself?" She asked, meeting Jo's eyes. "If we have something stalking us, we need to know out to protect ourselves. Help me?"
no subject
Jo looked at her only the best on one pause, reading Margery's face and making a choice she might not have made in Medietas. But she had made it in the Apocalypse. She had taught an angry, ice blue eyed young girl, who looked more like a model than a monster killer.
But Rachel had been so much more, and become even more than that.
"Yes, but I won't go easy on you," Jo warned. She made a gesture toward the mutilated body on the ground. "There's no time for it now."
Which meant something from a hunter especially, who would have expected death, by any slip, from any hunt, her world and these alike. But there was not even the pause between the beginning and the possible battle coming to them like then.
This one was already on them.
Nothing in the world like so much red blood spilled on virgin snow.
no subject
Jo was someone that seemed to know how to handle these situations. She was strong in the ways a warrior should be. Having met Brienne, it wasn't unheard of for a woman to be capable in this way.
If Margaery wanted to survive this place, she would need to learn to be like Jo and Brienne.
no subject
There was a core of strength to it. It's own kind of weapon that would see her well, if she didn't have too much pride.
"Have you used any weapons before?"
no subject
This was far too important to be demure and afraid.
"No, I have no experience with fighting."
no subject
"Do you have any kind of weapon you think you'd be more comfortable with?" Beat." Or?"
Or was she simply open to everything and anything. Even as Jo's mind began to consider the need for possibly many people being trained, and of the skills among them, and those who might both need and be willing to help those who did need.