004 { A life you don't live is still lost

[tobeclosetohim]

WHO: Jo & THE COMMUNITY AT LARGE
WHERE: The Pub & Inn
WHEN: July 27th, Midday through Night
OPEN TO:Everyone was invited personally
WARNINGS: Jo's Better At This Than She Means To Be
STATUS: Open To All; Threads w/ Jo, w/ Others & Threadjacking Welcome

---

Jo told everyone she saw yesterday to come by the Inn & Pub today.

Anytime after midday, and to pass on the message to anyone and everyone else they saw. That it wasn't a meeting per say so much as something everyone was going to need everyone's help with and something everyone should probably get in on. But without clarifying much else.

She spent the rest of yesterday stealing nearly a half dozen curtains from houses that hadn't been claimed by anyone, and then acquiring enough charcoal to fill two small baskets. It's not paper and pens or pencils but it's going to have to do until someone has a better idea or finds better supplies.

The morning of the 27th, Thorfinn helps her get them tacked to two different walls of the main room of Inn & Pub using her knives to cut holes and then sharpened bones, from earlier meals in the month that she hadn't been aware had been saved even, banged into the wall to make them hold high and sturdy enough.



On one side of the room, three curtains line the wall and it says at the high top MAP & LANDMARKS. In the center most piece there are sketched bits for the buildings they can all recognize, the center most being the fountain, and in the distance the river, certain bits of forest, canyon wall, but there's a lot of white space in every other direction, too.

On the other side of the room, one curtain goes up, marked only at the top with FOR TRADE. For the moment that one is entirely blank, but sooner or later she going to end up writing Fresh Meat, with her name and Thorfinn's next to it. There's a second curtain for that wall folded behind the bar, for when and if it's needed.


For now Jo's sitting on a table, again, feet on a chair, elbows on her knees, hair loose on her shoulders, looking at the maps' ocean of white, waiting to see what else might get filled in by those who show up today. Or at least having a better idea of where they should still be looking that hasn't been covered half a dozen times already by everyone else.

Comments

[seekingcrocodile]

Come to the pub, well, it didn't take much convincing to get him to agree to do that, even if he didn't know what it was for. Even if he hasn't figured out that not even alcohol exists here right now and it's a pub in name only.

He wonders for a moment why they've been invited here, until he adjusts to the darkness inside and notices what's hung on the walls. Just about the first useful thing he's seen in his short time here.

He goes over to the map to study it, and sees the obvious landmarks, buildings and such, surrounded by even more blank space. He remembers a stream he had discovered yesterday but doesn't see it on the map. (Of course he would find water.) He picks up one of the chunks of charcoal, one with a fairly good point on it, and sketches it in.

He'll make sure Emma knows to stop by here and add anything she might have noticed as well.

[tobeclosetohim]

It's all worthwhile, is Jo's thought. Even if it doesn't seem it. It helps. Every little bit will tell them more about where they're stuck and what is in every direction. Every little bit will add to a bigger, broader picture. It means everything discovered in the last few weeks isn't lost entirely, and they spend forever only relearning what they already know.

She wants to know where the borders are, and if there are exits, and which direction to go to check on that which hasn't already been double checked a hundred times. Whether it's into the woods, or the far ends of the river, like she told Emma. She doesn't have enough supplies yet to consider making a circuit, but the idea is still gnawing at her. Wanting to start at one canyon wall and edge around until she finds an opening or comes back to where she started.

But that would be days in the making. Maybe even a week, or even longer than.

It's quiet watching, and some gratitude when someone finally shows up and hones in on the point of the message in an instant.

"Hey." Her own words are quiet in the near empty place, but nowhere near whisper. "I don't think I've seen you around here before."

[seekingcrocodile]

If she hadn't done this, chances are he would have. Not only to help him keep track of where he's found himself, but in case anyone else had something to add to it. He hasn't been here long, but he's already figured out that they're going to have to work together if any of them are going to survive.

He turns to the woman who addressed him. "I'm newly arrived. I've only been here for about a week." He knows it's a pretty small place, relatively, with not many residents, but without anything organized, it's possible to go in a completely different direction from someone else and miss them entirely.

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn had remained sitting when the other man made his way in. Whittling away at what would eventually be a sun-compass. The blonde only looked up when he saw the man lift the charcoal and start to draw. The knife and wooden chunk of debarked branch remained in his hands as he pushed off the chair to move closer. Though he could see just fine in the darkened room, he still wanted to see what the man was adding closer.

He stepped up behind the other louder than he would like. He was still adjusting to the strange boots and it effected his once silent steps. He was a man of small stature, only standing about five foot four. His long blonde hair was plaited loosely at both sides, it half covered the scar down the scar on his right cheek and chunk of his left ear missing. But, the clothes he wore, a tank top and gray scrub pants, left most of his scars reveled.

Looking at it he easily realized it was a body of water just by the lines. He looked to the other man, his brown eyes curious as he had not seen this stream yet.

"ám eða straum" He asked, before trying to think of the English words in case. "Water? Straum?" His accent made the words harder, but he was a sailor at heart, he wanted to know where all the water may be. An idle hope of eventually being able to find a way to sail home if a chance ever arises. He knew it was a useless dream, but he was still hopeful.

[seekingcrocodile]

The man lurking behind speaks in a language he hasn't heard before (he's heard a lot, sailing as many places as he has, even if he can't speak most of them), but he's clearly taken an interest in something on the map.

"Water, aye." That much he can figure out. "Fresh water. It's a good source of fish." Along with a good place for washing when you're not in your house.

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn didn't really believe in wasting things that could be used. Bones had many good uses. Such as being used as a makeshift nails. He had stood repeating the words written after asking what they said. He was learning little by little he was learning. He didn't think himself to be the sharpest tool, but he would learn it all eventually.

He was sitting quietly not far from Jo, a knife in one hand whittling away at a pace of wood. He didn't care that he was covering his gray scrubs with wood shavings he was more focused on his work. He figured if he stayed quiet no one would notice his lack of conversational language aside from anyone who already knew. Part of him wanted to go back to the woods like he usually does in the day. He didn't though, he just sat there carving at the bit of wood, every now and then reaching up to push his hair back behind his ears.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo has gotten used to the silence with Thorfinn, in a way where she isn't, but she accepted that she has to accept it. For now. She misses listening to him talk. The bravado. The sullenness. The bragging. The terseness. The long line of other things. Ones she hadn't even realized she'd taken note of being there at all, until there wasn't any of it. Until there was a quiet man, with the barest of bones of broken English, sitting next to her.

Quiet was not a thing she would have pegged him having in him. But he does. During the day at least.
Though sometimes she's starting to think that isn't entirely because of the language barrier.

Like right now when he's doing something else.



She lets it go for a while, watching the trickle of people, who came and surveyed, wrote or didn't write, stayed or didn't stay, talked with her or with others, and petered back out, again. But eventually she nudges the edge of his chair with the toe of the heavy boots she's gotten used to at this point a month in, and she points, refusing to dumb things down for him, because he's doing so well, even when he's frustrated, even when he's quiet.

And. Really. Because she respects him too much for it. Even if it's a long ago him. "What are you making now?"

[seekingvinland]

All those little things had died in him over the years between meeting her in the strange other world and his time enslaved on the Ketil Farm, he had found a means of real feelings outside of of his bravado. The things he used to be so proud of were now a great shame to him.

He didn't mind the silence, though he did miss the constant chatter of his sworn brother. Thorfinn never really had to talk much with Einar, the other man would fill the air with his own endless words and stories and knowledge. Even the boy she knew had been a quiet creature, just not around her. She reminded him of the sister he missed so much. She got to see him in spirits others never would have back then. He was more himself in that moment whittling away than he had been bragging about his old exploits.

He never enjoyed the fighting. He did it for his honor.

Now he didn't have to. He'd never hurt another human being if he had the choice.

When she nudged him he looked up, those brown eyes still so different with their strange soulful light. It had started forming in the boy after the rains, but it had changed over the years.

He didn't know the English word, but he sat the knife aside and he held up the half carved handle. "sól áttavita" The words were spoken since he didn't know the English. He pushed up out of the chair and moved to her map motioning her over. Taking up a bit of charcoal and drawing a simple little cross. He pointed to north. "norður" then South, East and West followed as he held up the wood. pointing to the cross then the ceiling. "sól áttavita"

[booklegging]

Jess was another new arrival who was using the inn as his place of residence, and the commotion drew him down from his room to join the group where he lingered by the exit in his grey coat, watching.

Some faces he recognized, like the pretty girl with the brown hair he was sharing the inn with, but it being his third day, most were new to him. He'd devoted most of yesterday to scouting the area, so this was his first opportunity to get a feel for who he was dealing with. He spent some time observing the others and memorizing the crudely drawn cloth map before a space opened and he approached to add in some details--distances, mostly, to help flesh out the scale and distance of travel. It grated that Jess didn't know more. Three days and he felt at an unsettling disadvantage trying to get caught up on what's been said and done in the last month already.

He'd always hated showing up late to a party.

Retreating from the map, he ended up next to a man who looked like he'd stepped out of an old Viking story, battle scars and overgrown platinum hair and all. Interesting, but not as interesting as his pants, being the same grey as Jess'. He gave a friendly nod, gaze dropping down to eye the woodworking project in his hands with curiosity. More the knife than the wood, if he's being honest, but the whittling is interesting, too.

all Icelandic will be hover-able for translations~!

[seekingvinland]

As each person came in Thorfinn would randomly look up from wood he was whittling away at. Nothing really said just a look before he would return to what he was doing. Careful pulls of the blade as he shaved away parts of the wood to bring the evntually sun compass from the bit of wood.

Thorfinn's eyes lifted once more when he felt the eyes of someone else on him. He knew it wasn't Jo, she would nudge him or say his name. Sitting down it was harder to see that he was small of stature, but otherwise he did fit the look of a proper viking. His hair was in loose braids and he wasn't giving off the most inviting air. Most of it was just a mixture of being socially awkward and irritation with the language barrier he was facing. His oddly calm brown eyes looked over the other male. He assumed just from a glance over the guy had to be about the age he had been when he lost his freedom. Maybe a little older. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Hello." It came out very thick, his accent lacing the newly learned words. He stopped working when he spoke, finding it easier to communicate when he was looking at other people. He pointed at the other, "You ný?" He couldn't recall the word for new, so he defaulted back to norse.

[lastofthekellys]

Coming to the inn hadn't been hard for someone who is currently still there. Except, that's not quite right. There are stairs involved. Stairs. Stairs when Kate's back aches and sometimes stabs, because she's pulled something there and she doesn't have her corset with its supportive boning.

(There's a chorus in her head about that. About women who don't wear corsets being no matter than they should be, and the excuse of 'it's not my fault' never flies, does it.)

Still, she's stubborn when she remembers how to be. She limps down the stairs, and tries not to show the limping. She's combed her hair with a fork yesterday, so at least her plait isn't as bad as it could be, but she doesn't need a mirror to know that sleepless nights upon sleepless nights have bruised her eyes. She's still wearing her overalls under her flimsy red blouse, she still smells of smoke from where she'd been jerking meat in the kitchen two days ago, but she keeps her chin up as she walks into the public room carrying a cushion for her back.

Then she sits, waits, watches. Remembers to scoot herself backwards against the chair to use its support. Watches some more.

As she watches people draw in places on the map, her mouth cants - she might read better than she can write, but drawing?

Drawing?

Maybe no one will ask her and she won't have to confess that she really doesn't much know how.

[tobeclosetohim]

It's sort of becoming unofficially a place people end up. Here. This room. Maybe because it's less formal than the town hall, which smacks of more formality than jo will ever like. Maybe because the lion's share of them got shoved into this place the first night and were stuck here through the nothing-like-natural windstorm, having to talk about where they came from, didn't come from and why them, why now, why here.

It's unofficially that place, which is why it was the perfect place to put these things up in. Besides it's more relaxed than almost anywhere else if could go, and still have the more starch element want to show, and Jo wants everyone who wants in. She's not beating heads and she's not begging, but she'd rather not be doing double work either.

She watched one of the new ones slide in toward the back, not moving from her perch on the table. "Hey."

[lastofthekellys]

She's trying not to limp. She'll answer readily enough if anyone enquires, because there's little hiding things with such a small selection of people, but she's trying not to make it obvious. Despite the limp. Despite the cushion. Despite the cessation of her normal singing as she does chores around the inn.

So she meets Miss Jo's eyes, and lifts her free hand in a small wave.

"Good afternoon, Miss Jo," she says. Then she gestures at the curtains and their drawings and words. "You and Mr Thorsson have been busy."

[seekingvinland]

He had still been wittling away at the bit of wood in his hands when he heard someone coming down the steps, he turned his head her way. It was easy to see she was in some kind of pain. He sat his project aside and pushed up from the chair moving over to where she sat.

Thorfinn's hair was plaited down both sides. A lot of men braided their hair before battle, and given he had nothing to brush or comb it with and he didn't care to cut it, braids had seemed best. He was dressed in the scrub paints and a tank top that had a bit of charcoal stains and dirt on it. His scars a lot easier to see now.

"Kate, okay?" He asked it wasn't the best English, but he was trying his best.

[lastofthekellys]

She doesn't correct him on her name. She's not sure how to explain without it sounding more like a correction on his language rather than it being manners where she is from. Her name doesn't sound like a proposition in his mouth, or a lessening of her dignity. It's simply her name.

Still, she doesn't look closely at his scars. A glance, to take them in, but then he's not even wearing a shirt and so her eyes move resolutely to his face. She's seen scars, from accidents and from floggings and from bullets. Some sabre-cuts, too.

But to study Thorfinn Thorsson's would be also to study his bare arms, and she's not doing it.

He can say her name, but this doesn't mean she has the right to ogle musculature when the man is just walking up to her.

"Hurt," Kate says. "My back. It is..." She looks at his face to see if 'hurt' and 'back' register as words he knows.

{ For Trade }

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo takes a while deciding just exactly what she wants to write down on this list. In some part, because it still feels like she's listing things that aren't exactly hers. Things she benefits from receiving, without actually having a hand in. Not that she doesn't. She's had to learn along the way, too. Had to return to things she hasn't done in at least three or four years maybe, and even to learn more from those skills from Thorfinn, the same way he's learning English with her.

How to skin animals. How to dry the meat. How to boil bones and leave them drying in the sun.
She learns, and maybe it's slow. So. Slow. Like she's learning this language herself, but she learns.

Eventually, Jo gets up and adds her own household to the list.
Not all of it made yet, but much of it something they're planning.
Things she's never needed to make, or know, but the Viking has.

Charcoal darkening her fingers with:


Fresh Meat
Dried Meat
Rawhide String
Small Furs/Pelts

Bone Combs (Next month)
Bone Knives (Next month)
Bone Needles (Next month)
Soap (Next month)

[notabirdcostume]

Sam had been keeping more to himself than he'd like to admit. For all his talk in the beginning of team work and working together, he'd sure done a bad job of it. Not that he wasn't trying to help. No, he'd gone back into the forests a few times for food and for exploration purposes. They needed to know this place, but it never seemed to give them any answers.

So when he had caught wind of a meeting, even if it wasn't a formal one, Sam had decided he should make an appearance. He was dirtier than he would have liked, returning from another venture into the woods and making a bee-line for the pub. However, he also wasn't disappointed by the contents of the inn either. His eyes immediately landed on the curtains transformed and the few people milling around.

The one thing this place hadn't claimed yet was his sense of humor so he spoke up as he entered, "I like what you've done with the place."

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo has a fair enough smile for Sam. Face she remembers, on someone who had agreed from the beginning about the kinds of things they needed to focus on first. Getting the lay of the land, and getting people together. She respected that. Even respected his windblown, dirt cover, look, like he'd just come in from doing that, again. Some people got lost for a while, and some of them didn't stick near the group, and Jo got both of those well, too.

The smirk that finds her lips is friendly and teasing. A touch proud, because it seems to be going well so far, for the few who've milled in, and she doesn't mind the compliment. "Well, I had to do something besides sunbathe and paint my fingernails in all this free time, right?"

[notabirdcostume]

Sam was already moving closer to the curtains as he entered. He'd done as much as exploring as anyone else and there were probably some spaces on it he could add detail to. He kept his bag with him, though it showed weight that meant he'd probably been collecting some things while he was out.

He smirked at Jo's response, "Glad you could spare some time." His eyes roamed over the map and then he looked back to Jo, "Seriously though, this will be pretty helpful if we can get it fleshed out more. Maybe even help us figure out this flooding nonsense."

[dnr]

Frank hasn't exactly been avoiding Sam. He'd helped with the initial exploration, and after that he hadn't been around town much, or seen the guy around when he was. So far, every trip he's taken out into those woods has taught him more about trapping rabbits than how to get out. But he could have sought Sam out, and might have, if there had been a particular point. Either the guy recognized him, or he didn't, and if they were going to get out of here tomorrow it didn't much matter to Frank which was true, so long as he didn't do anything about it.

Here, looking at the sheets going up on the walls, the gathering of their small number and the idea of trade circulating like they were settlers on the frontier instead of lab rats in a well-forested terrarium, is when it really starts to feel like they're going to be here a while. And one of these days, Sam will recognize him. He'll do whatever he's going to do.

Why not today. Frank waits, watching people come and go from the sidelines a while, until it seems like Sam has done most of what he came here for, before he approaches.

"Wilson," he says with a nod of his chin in greeting. "You got a minute? We should talk." Frank bobs his temple toward the kitchen, for at least a little bit of privacy.

[notabirdcostume]

It has been nearly a month and Sam hadn't seen the man in about that much time. They just keep missing each other -- despite being a part of a significant talk in the Inn on that first day and then both partaking in the first excursion out into the woods. Sam was grateful for that help, even if he felt like he still knew so little about his fellow survivalists. He has at least learned that the other man's name is Frank. He is also still certain he recognizes the man from somewhere, though it's not nearly as strong as that feeling he'd gotten with Peggy.

He wonders why the man is calling him over. It's further curious since the other is gesturing to the kitchen to have this talk. Sam thinks about the last time he had a conversation in the kitchens. He hopes this goes a little more smoothly.

"Sure thing," he says, walking towards the door that will take then behind the pub part of the inn. He's still a little thrown off by how old everything is here, but he's at least more comfortable around some of the kitchen implements. As soon as they're in semi-privacy, Sam leaning against one of the counters he asks, "So what do we need to talk about?"

[thecatinahat]

Cougar's been keeping himself quietly busy in the settlement, testing out the canyon walls, assessing sunrise, sunset, and setting up traps for smaller game while he works on carving a bow and arrows for the larger. He's got a weapon that will do him fine, but it's not built for much repeat use. He always checks in on that same inn, once in a while, and heads in today to find things a little bit different.

He skirts his fingers over the curtains, then glances back to Jo, raising an eyebrow as he nods towards them, not actually asking so much as waiting for an explanation.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo's on the table, but she slides off with a nod for Thorfinn, about where she's headed before she heads that way. It's not even much a thought process anymore. Cougar at least has the bare understanding of English, while she's spent a good portion of her last month helping a Viking, now living with her, learn how to speak and understand any English at all aside from her name. Which he came in knowing.

But Language isn't an actual barrier in these things unless they let them be.

Thorfinn knew far more of the terrain than her already.

"Long time." Jo says, easy and even, sliding into place over by Cougar. "We're making a map of all the land that's been covered so far, and--" She paused to point over her shoulder, hand flipping upside down above it, as she gestures across the room. "And that's for things people are willing to trade. Or, I guess, they could list what they need, too. So far it was just offerings."

Or maybe she'd drag out the other curtain she'd stolen and make a Seeking For/Needs list for people to fill in, too.

Jo + Open

[andrend]

Open
Ren didn't greet the others when he entered immediately. The curtain map caught his attention first and he made his way to it instead, studying what had been marked down so far. He had not thought to make charcoal, or anything else beyond the very simplistic weapons/tools he had fashioned out of carved wooden chair legs. Theydid as well for weapons and hammers as could be expected, but he had been too preoccupied to focus on arts and crafts.

With all the time he had spent on the cliffs and land south east of the river and main town, he could fill in a fair amount of the map in that corner, and he did fill in the buildings and refine the canyon edges with one of the charcoal pieces in the basket. If only because a completed map would benefit him as much as anyone else. He adjusted the banks for some of the other changes he had noticed after the flooding and then dropped the charcoal into the basket, taking a moment to glance down at the black residue coating his fingers. He glanced at the trade curtains and then turned to leave, stopping whenever his path took him near another person. Make allies was a mantra stuck in his head thanks to Sam, and to his credit, he was trying.

"Have you found anything unusual or interesting? Aside from the dead ends and empty buildings." Obviously no one had found a way out or they would not be wasting their time hanging around. But it was possible someone might have come across something they didn't understand that would be more familiar to someone from a less primitive planet. He could hope, at least.

For Jo
Ren had not meant to encounter Jo in the town the day prior. He had only meant to check the fountain and the move on back to the Mill after a quick circle around the buildings. He had brushed the idea of going off entirely when she mentioned it, but still found himself walking to the inn the next day. For once he left the coat behind, dressed in the overalls and the undershirt he had been provided with, both much worse for wear after a month of overuse. His hair was pulled back through the loop at the back of the baseball cap on his head.

He didn't bring anything to trade, though he had collected some junk from a couple houses. He had thinned some over the month. Nothing too noticeable yet, but while Ren was good at surviving and had learned how to live in harsh conditions, he had not applied himself as much as he should have over the month. When he approached Jo at the table, it was with a slight frown on his face, but his words didn't mimic the sentiment at all, coming out honest, if a bit dragged out.

"The curtains are clever. Admirable work, under the circumstances."

Re: Jo + Open

[tobeclosetohim]

The odd thing was that even the odd things stopped looking odd after awhile. There were certain seconds Jo could see it. How odd they all looked in these clothes. This haphazard assortment of things none of them probably ever wore. Or maybe one or two did, but none of the rest of them. Baseball caps, overalls, puffy shirts and pants. All of them in these oddly brilliant different sets of colors that had done nothing to unite or divide any of them yet. But it was becoming normal, too, a month in.

"Thanks." Her words are general enough. "Necessity and invent and all that jazz, you know?"
A calm aloofness that didn't entirely cover a distant consternation.

She put the curtains up, but the whole lot of them had done so much more filling it in than she'd ever started with. At least it would all be in one place, even if she couldn't do the same. "You definitely had a lot to add in. Nothing helpful on the canyon walls over that way either?"