sixthiterationlogs | with rabbit and dandelion and thistle

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with rabbit and dandelion and thistle

WHO: Kate Kelly
WHERE: The Inn & Pub
WHEN: 3rd August
OPEN TO: E V E R Y O N E
WARNINGS: N/A
STATUS: OTA

It's been a couple weeks since Kate woke up and nearly drowned in that cursed fountain. She hasn't slept much, truth be told, and she's no closer to feeling like she's wearing proper clothes so she's still wearing her overalls instead of the given trousers, under that flimsy red blouse. Her curly hair is being combed with a fork and fixed as best she can. However, she has been paying attention. To the group and to the food situation. The group isn't exactly a community, but Miss Jo and her curtains of maps and skills have given Kate an idea.

(That, and honestly? The quietness of the inn's kitchen and main room is driving her to distraction.)

It takes time and it takes effort, Kate's idea of a communal lunch. She walks around, knocking on doors, and she asks, begs, flirts, lures-with-promise-of-hot-food people to arrive at midday. The hunters get asked if bring their game nice and early, those more inclined to gather or cook get asked to do that, and others... Well, she'd just like it if people turned up.

After so long being sulky, being this social again makes her sparkle.

With the help of some volunteers in the kitchen, by midday, the meal is ready. Really truly nothing fancy: rabbit stew with dandelions (flowers and plant both) and thistle (stems, leaves, roots and the young flowers) and some other wild herbs to flavour.

But it is food, and it is hot.

[ooc: Party-style post! Post starters in under the subheadings or make your own, volunteer your character to cook or clean or neither, and have fun!]

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Slow is good. Slow is excellent. Jake is still struggling to remember what he learned all those years ago, murky memories that he has to fight to dredge up. He doesn't get every single word that Thorfinn says, but he gets the gist of the whole thing, and that's all that's important really.

"Vi er begge dårlige," he says with a laugh, shifting so that he can lean both elbows on the table in front of him.

Most of the Danish he learned was for flirting or fighting, things that seemed important at the time, but he's got enough basic vocabulary to hold this conversation. He can do it. "Hvor er du født?"

Slow worked best for him with English so it seemed the wisest thing to do. Thorfinn still felt a bit stupid for not making his sworn brother teach him english the years they worked on the Ketil farm together. Einar was an Englishman, one who spoke both English and Norse. It was such a shame in hindsight. He missed the other man but there was nothing to be done about that.

"Meget dårlig, men det er en start." He spoke with a grin.

Most of the English Thorfinn had learned in his youth all had to do with battle, the curses, or things people screamed as the horde came through. Nothing terribly useful. "Island, men jeg tilbragte det meste af mine år i selskab med en dansk band. Jeg brugte også en vinter ansat hos Prins Knud af Danmark ... Kong Knud, min undskyldning." He waved a hand, it was still strange to thing of Canute as a king. The boy he used to tease was no longer that but a true warrior king last he saw him. "Og du, Jake?"

At least they're both smiling. Even if they make fools of themselves, they're in good company.

Thorfinn immediately launches into a slew of Danish that all but flies directly over Jake's head, causing his eyes to widen and another laugh to bubble up form his throat. He gets a few words here and there, but most of it's lost on him; still, he got Iceland, and Danish band, and a king. That's a good start.

His lack of English and all this talk of kings, coupled with his general appearance — short stature, wiry muscles, multiple scars — make Jake wonder just where this guy is really from, though. When.

"America," he replies. "Ved du, hvor det er?" He winces apologetically, just in case his guess is wrong and Thorfinn is just an unusually short and scarred modern man. He doesn't think so, though. It makes no sense, but he can't shake the feeling that this guy is...old.

Thorfinn knows that look, that's the look he gives most people here as they speak. He looked apologetic almost as soon as he realized he had gone to fast, said to much. Excitement had gone to his head.

He waved a hand then. "Undskyld Sorry." He added the English word at the end to make sure his point was made. He hadn't meant to lose the other.

He shook his head to the question. "Jo from America." he spoke in English. Before again shaking his head, one of his loose hanging braids was starting to come undone the more he shook his head. "Jeg kender ingen Amerika selv."

Edited 2016-08-04 01:01 (UTC)

Jake waves away his apologies, already thinking ahead to the rest of the conversation.

"Yeah, Jo's from America. I think most of us are." And then again in Danish, "Mange mennesker her fra America."

Right, this is going to take some pantomime. He grabs Thorfinn's cup and pulls it slightly closer between them. "Danmark. Norge. Sverige. Europe." His cup spoon gets pulled a little closer too, set down close but not touching. "England." Thorfinn's bowl gets captured next, added to the tableau, placed much farther away across the table. "America." He points to the space between the utensils, the empty table. "Ocean. Water. Vend. Hav."

He nods understanding most of the words in the first speaking of the sentence he has been taught most of them by Jo.

The pantomime was the smartest thing. Thorfinn reached down pushing his braid behind his left ear, which was missing a chunk of the top of it. An old wound long healed over. His brown eyes following the words. "Ja, jeg kender alle disse lande." He spoke. He was a sailor by nature, he had traveled far in his years.

Thorfinn goes silent as he reels back some. His eyes going as wide as the glass. "West." Jo taught him the directions when he showed her his sun compass he had been working on. "Vinland." He looked at Jake with a mix of wonder and horror all at once. Was Vinland already colonized?

"Yeah, West." Jake is glad his little pantomime worked, that Thorfinn seemed to understand just what Jake was talking about with his collection of utensils. Thanks to a book report he'd helped his niece with, he's aware that there were Viking expeditions to America, that they sailed to Newfoundland and back, and even had settled down and started some colonies in what's now considered Canada. He just doesn't know if Thorfinn is from before then or not.

And isn't that a weird thing to be uncertain about.

His eyes brighten when Thorfinn uses the word Vinland. "Yes, Vinland!" He's run out of utensils to pantomime with, so he uses his hands instead, placing one flat on the table perpendicular to himself. "Vinland," he says, gesturing to the hand. "Canada." Lifting the other hand, he wiggles it a little before putting it beside the other, stacking them one on top of the other with both palms flat on the table. "America. South of Vinland."

Edited 2016-08-04 21:58 (UTC)

Thorfinn nodded when Jake confirmed west, his smile growing readily wider. The first expedition happened before Thorfinn was walking, but the second attempt to colonize had not happened yet. The man who would lead that second trip, was sitting across from Jake. Leif had faith that Thorfinn's new temperament would do better with the natives. The last run ended badly. Vinland had been a dream for Thorfinn. Something that kept him going. A land without slavery or war.

Thorfinn smacked a hand down hard on the table grinning. "Leif Eriksson var min fars bedste ven." he spoke slowly through his excitement and lifted his hands up to himself. "I go to Vinland." He spoke in his broken English. "Land of peace. No war." He had no idea what was really waiting there. Leif never told him.

Edited (WRONG LANGUAGE, fixed!) 2016-08-04 22:14 (UTC)

Watching Thorfinn light up, Jake feels pretty proud of himself. He didn't expect the news that America is where he said it is to be that exciting, but there you go. You never know what will make people happy.

He grimaces a little when Thorfinn claims that America is a land without war. "Some war," he says, holding his thumb and forefinger close together to indicate a small amount. "I'm a soldier. Jeg er en soldat. I fight in wars for my country."

The strange things that make people happy. Though, when Jake explains the look falls, more back to the look he started with. A little disappointed. He had hoped for better for the new land. A place where Arneis' soul could rest.

"krig sker overalt." His tone doesn't hide his disappointment, but he lifts a hand and points to Jake. "Viking eller Thegn?" A thegn was a solider to a king or lord, real soldiers opposed to militia like the vikings. Thorfinn had done both at a point, but the latter is what cause him a world of pain.

Jake doesn't understand the question. He knows it's an either/or, and he knows what Vikings are, but he has a feeling something has been lost in translation. So he tries to explain just what he does to someone who's never seen a gun or a computer in their life.

This is going to be rough.

"Jeg er en soldat særlige aktioner," he tries, though he's not sure that it translates well through the time difference between them. How the hell is he supposed to explain that what he does is man the radio and track intel through the internet? "Jeg og min ven, Cougar, er soldater sammen." Turning slightly in his seat, he scans the room to find Cougar and then points him out.

Edited 2016-08-04 22:56 (UTC)

Thorfinn looks confused a second, a special solider. Maybe it was something like a Berserk, or like he used to do. All the crazy shit was given to him in his youth. The expendable one, the boy who didn't know fear. That is special.

Thorfinn sat back looking at Jake silently and nods, he thinks he understands. The confusion is still there. "Vigtige krigere." Thorfinn turned his head when he sees the man that Jake's pointing out he nods. Cougar asked him earlier to braid his hair. So, he recognizes him. He's better at braiding other peoples hair than his own anyway. "He cook." He points to Jake again. "You broder?" He assumes buddy to be brother. Maybe just something he didn't grasp.

Edited 2016-08-04 23:26 (UTC)

Thankfully, Thorfinn gets the gist of what Jake is trying to say; he's not sure if he's up for the task of explaining the structure of a modern army, let alone what Spec Ops units are for.

He's been accused of being too stupid to be scared, but he's not sure if that's the same thing as a Beserker. Then again, considering the way some of his unit would cackle with laughter as they run head-first into a conflict, maybe it's not too far off the mark.

"Yeah, he's good at cooking," he agrees, thinking of all the delicious Mexican food Cougar has made for them all through the years. Jake can burn water, so Cougar tends to take charge of the food thing, simply out of self-preservation. "Blod broder. Shield brother." He doesn't know what shield is in Danish, but he holds his left arm in front of himself like he's holding a shield, using his other hand to smack his forearm where a shield would sit. He doesn't know how else to indicate that they aren't actually related but are brothers in the same-unit sense.

He had been lucky enough in Medietas to not actually SEE a gun, Jo had had one on her the night he had appeared outside of the roadhouse sobbing due to some emotion jacking rain, but he had not seen it. His knowledge of the modern he usually summed up as fuckin' magic.

Thorfinn never laughed about his missions, but he'd be a lair if he didn't admit he missed the rush of danger. He just wanted no more blood on his hands. He was sick to death of death.

Thorfinn nods in agreement as well. That man can cook. Thorfinn's cooking skills were mostly 'roast meat, eat meat' Which left a lot to be desired. "Blod broder." He smiled, understanding and mostly amused at Jake's pantomime. "I know shield." He spoke in his heavy accent, his english was still bad btu he was trying. "mit blod broder hedder Einar. Han er engelsk. En stor mand, med mørkt hår og mørke øjne." He spoke slow hoping maybe by some chance maybe Einar was there somewhere and Thorfinn hadn't found him yet.

Magic is as good an explanation as any. He has no idea how else to explain the internet, if he even tried.

"Oh," he says, a little deflated and a touch embarrassed that his pantomime had been unnecessary. He bounces back quickly, though, well used to making a fool of himself in front of people all around him. "Einar," he repeats. He's not familiar with the name, but the description makes him smile, what he can understand from it. "Sounds like Cougar," he says with a laugh. "But Cougar is not big." Cougar isn't exactly short, but he's wiry where Jake is broad, and the difference between them is almost impossible to ignore.

Magic would be the only way.

Thorfinn laughed a little shaking his head some. "Einar bigger Cougar." Thorfinn finally stood up, and yes, he was a short man, he was only about five four maybe an inch given for the boots. He lifted his hand up high to signal height. Then moved his hands out. A big man. Thorfinn looked back to Cougar a moment. "Cougar different." His tone said it was a good thing, but still something he had to ponder. Cougar was a strange word for him to say. He sat back down. Maybe Einar could pass for someone related to Cougar, maybe. He wasn't sure. Either way he grinned at Jake and shrugged.

"Yeah, I bet," he agrees, smiling.

He's surprised when Thorfinn stands to see how short he is — but that makes sense, right, if he's a Viking, they didn't have the same food as modern societies do, and that would hinder the kind of growth people are used to these days — but his indication of how tall his friend is makes his smile widen.

"Like me?" he asks, and stands up himself, placing his fists on his hips to make himself seem even broader, posing like Superman. "Cougar is..." He lifts a hand to indicate how tall Cougar is. Much shorter than himself, but taller than Thorfinn.

Thorfinn was short even for his time. He was the spitting image of his mother even in height. He was the only male of his family under six feet tall. Something he found vastly unfair, he had stopped growing taller at fifteen. Though his diet had never been the best. Before he was sold into slavery he cooked for himself, after that it was scraps before the Elder Master stepped in. He had bulked up after that but never got taller. He was short but well built.

Thorfinn smiled and nodded when Jake stood and nodded. He had not expected the man to be quiet so tall. Granted he had been looking into his food when Jake had approached. "Ja, Yes! Like Jake." He spoke with a nod. Einar was about that size. He nodded yet again when Jake pointed out Cougars height. "I midten"

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