beallmysins: (Default)
Jax Teller ([personal profile] beallmysins) wrote in [community profile] sixthiterationlogs2017-02-01 10:27 pm

001 ♠ riding through this world all alone

WHO: Jax Teller
WHERE: fountain; village
WHEN: 1 February
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: language
STATUS: open



I. THE CROW FLIES STRAIGHT

Water. Everything is fucking water from the top of his head to the bottom of his shoes and when Jax breathes in, he takes in a huge fucking lungful of it. It's burning like fire and he has no idea how he's drowning. He's known how to swim since he could walk, just about, so he pushes off against the bottom of the pool and claws his way up.

When his head breaks free of the water he realizes it's not the ocean or a swimming pool but a goddamn fountain. He half expects fairies or some shit pouring water but it's just a regular fountain, bubbling as if a full grown man hadn't just burst his way up from the bottom. Jax places his palms at the lip of it and pushes himself up and out, collapsing against the ground.

Wherever he is, its cold enough that he doesn't want to be outside in wet clothes and he lays there for just a few minutes, trying to catch his breath. He needs a cigarette. He needs a whole goddamn carton of cigarettes, at this juncture, and he has a sinking suspicion that no cigarettes will be to hand. There's a backpack or something strapped to his back and after laying on it for a few minutes he rolls over to his side and works it off; it's got a change of clothes in it, at least.

"Well I'll be damned," he says, pulling out the clothes to examine them. "Scrubs. Must be prison again." Doesn't explain the fountain, which wasn't at Stockton the last time he did time, but maybe he's gotten some kind of rec privileges and had a fight.

"Where the fuck am I?"

II. A PERFECT LINE

It takes him a little while to get his bearings but once he does, he sets out in search of civilization. He's got to figure out where the fuck he is and how to get out but, in the meantime, he needs a shower and a change of clothes. He's got the second part of it handled thanks to the pack he came in with but the first part is going to take a little more doing.

Wandering out of the park with the fountain, he finds a road and starts to follow it. Road has to lead to somewhere, right? Sure as he picks a direction and sticks with it, he comes up on several buildings. One of them looks like a police station, based on the shape and size of it, and he thinks there's some fucking goats or something in there making noise. Probably not the best idea to duck his head in there. No idea where he is but there's almost always some kind of outstanding warrant on his head these days thanks to feuding with the sheriff's office and the Niners so he's steering clear.

The next building he comes up on is a little busier, people coming in and out, and Jax runs a hand through his damp hair and strides up to the porch with the intention of getting some fucking information. Someone has to know more than "village that nobody knows the name of or how to leave," and he intends on shaking down whoever he needs to shake down to be able to get directions out of here. He's carless and bikeless, sure, but he can hitch if he needs to. It wouldn't be the first time.

He gets distracted when a woman walks past him and he tips his head, watching her ass as she walks by. The scrubs do nothing for anyone, it's true, but he likes to admire beauty where he can.

III. GOTTA RAISE SOME HELL

So after figuring out that there's really no way out of here and no matter how many pointed questions or threats he offers in exchange for information he's not getting anything out of the people here because they don't know anything, Jax decides he's going to go outside the inn and blow off some steam. He doesn't anticipate that there's a goddamn chicken coop out there, though, and he has no experience with chickens or farms or any of that domestic shit.

What is he, a fucking hippie? No.

Still, the chickens seem to be curious and one draws up close. He guesses it's the kind of thing his kids might want to see at the zoo or something, if he did stuff like that with his kids, and Jax reaches a hand out to pet one of them. He gets a peck between finger and thumb in response and jerks away. Still, the ground is soft and wet from what feels like a whole lot of rain (or snowmelt, maybe, but he has no idea if it snows in this fucking town or not) and he slides, feet going out from under him.

He lands, of course, in a whole bunch of chicken shit and the chicken looks pleased with herself. He's covered in mud, chicken shit and feathers and now the other chickens are clucking at him too. What is this, a goddamn chicken riot?

"I'm going to eat one of you fuckers if you don't stop," he curses, mostly under his breath. He thinks he probably shouldn't murder someone's pets even if they're stupid pets and he works on pushing himself to his feet. He's going to need another shower - probably ten showers to get all this off him and he hopes like hell that nobody saw that shit.

He stares at the chicken and moves his fingers from his eyes to point at it, issuing a threat. "You and me. I'm gonna get you back for this."
chosenbytheocean: (Standing to close)

III. Here to protect the chickens

[personal profile] chosenbytheocean 2017-02-02 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"You shouldn't threaten a chicken. It might remember the next time you meet."

Moana was being 100% serious though her smile might make it appear as if she's joking. She had a very small collection of dead grasses tied and tossed over her shoulder. She's wearing the thick jacket that had been in her pack and her navy blue scrub pants which looked a little worse for wear. Moana wasn't too concerned now that she found what she needed to make both a dress and the net she'd promised Thorfinn.

Her head tilted to the side, her thick messy hair falling over her shoulder as she looked at the muddy stranger. It was a shame it was to cold to wash off in the river, that would have been easier.

"You need any help?" She might as well offer. He's going to track dirt, mud and chicken poop through the inn like that. "You should probably wash up out here first."
chosenbytheocean: (Umm...)

III. Here to protect the chickens

[personal profile] chosenbytheocean 2017-02-03 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
"I can get a bucket from the kitchen. Even if you strip you'll need to wash those clothes." She pointed at him as if this fact wasn't obvious and then began to walk around him. "Wait here okay?"

Moana stepped inside, placing her bundle of dead grasses out of the way before fetching a bucket. She filled it with water, which was cold, before heading back outside.

"Here."
chosenbytheocean: (What?)

III. Here to protect the chickens

[personal profile] chosenbytheocean 2017-02-06 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Moana can be forceful and when she thinks she’s right she speaks in a practiced commanding tone. One that she’d use when acting as chief of her village.

She placed the bucket down before looking at him with a very unamused expression. "I could get you a change of clothes but I don’t know which room you’re in." She also didn’t think he wanted her in his room. Not that Moana expected to find anything other than the pack that they’d all been given. It was just polite.

"You don’t have to do it here either. You can go wherever you want but you’ll want to dry up and warm off quickly. You’ll get sick otherwise." Moana would definitely turn around if he started to strip right here.
turned_to_steel: (★ surprised (gasp))

II.

[personal profile] turned_to_steel 2017-02-03 04:16 am (UTC)(link)
Maybe if she had seen the way he turned his head to check out a woman as she walked by, Sansa would have known that it wasn't her boyfriend Raleigh but she had missed it. All she saw was a familiar frame that brought a warm smile to her face as she hurried her step to reach him. It wasn't unusual for them to meet up at the Inn if they weren't together earlier in the day and so she didn't think anything of it.

The only thing she did was glanced around quickly to see if her brothers were anywhere nearby as she hurried up behind the blonde man. Reaching out, she slid a hand against the small of his back. "Hello, you."

She moved around his side, already pressing up on her tiptoes to greet him with a quick kiss. Or at least she was about to before she pulled back with a gasp, stopping herself just an inch or two from making contact. Then her cheeks flooded with color as she yanked her hand away from him as though she had been burned. "I'm so sorry! I thought you were someone else!"
Edited 2017-02-03 04:16 (UTC)
turned_to_steel: (★ one awkward pause)

Re: II.

[personal profile] turned_to_steel 2017-02-05 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
Her heart jumps into her throat when the man slides an arm around her waist to keep her right where she is. Pressing a hand against his chest, she tries to push back again.

"I was when I thought you were him." She replies bitingly. "But you're not and I insist that you let me go!"
turned_to_steel: (★ discussions (outside))

Re: II.

[personal profile] turned_to_steel 2017-02-09 05:27 am (UTC)(link)
"I apologized for that. As I said, I thought you were someone else." Sansa replies quickly as though trying to soothe any annoyance that he might be feeling at the moment. She doesn't know who he is and so she certainly doesn't want to anger him.

Dropping her arms to her sides once they had a couple feet between them, she silently marvels again at just how much he looks like Raleigh though she can see the differences now. "It's Sansa. Who are you?"

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bit_fairytale: (know better)

II

[personal profile] bit_fairytale 2017-02-03 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
It's not like Amy's never had a man stare at her arse before, seeing as she used to make a living off her looks (both as a kissogram and then that brief stint as a model), but it's winter and she's in scrubs (Rory's, so even a bit baggier than usual), and never mind that, but what the hell is wrong with the bloke if that's his first priority? "Oi!" Amy shouts at him, glaring as she pokes a finger in his general direction.

"What're you looking at?" she challenges, forgetting the part where she'd been on her way to see if she could offer any kind of writing help at the inn, her focus pinned on the man with the craning head problem.
bit_fairytale: (know better)

[personal profile] bit_fairytale 2017-02-05 04:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Do people get arrested here for kicking arseholes in the balls? Amy's genuinely considering the lock-up for a moment, but instead she crosses her arms over her chest and glowers at him. "Are you always so charming to strangers?" she asks, tone dripping with condescension. "Or am I just that extra special?"
bit_fairytale: (stunned)

[personal profile] bit_fairytale 2017-02-08 02:40 pm (UTC)(link)
"This beautiful thing can kick you in some very uncomfortable places," Amy sweetly replies, not entirely sure where she wants to get started, but the groin area is always a good idea. Still, Rory's told her that she should be nicer to people, because apparently when you're in a village even smaller than Leadworth, you need to care about these sorts of things.

Mostly, Amy doesn't, but she loves Rory, so she'll do it for him. "Amy Pond," she introduces herself. "Next time, maybe appreciate a little less visibly? The next person might not be as nice as me."

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repressings: <user name="goldsteins">, DNT (31)

i;

[personal profile] repressings 2017-02-04 07:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Credence is never quite sure what to expect when he finds out there's another survivor, but it's never quite this. Panic, maybe. Fear. Sometimes an odd calm, collected demeanour that makes Credence automatically think they're dangerous.

This one is just strange. Between him and the girl that fled to the woods to lean on trees, he wonders if this is another experiment.

Prison, he says. Credence had been walking to Graves' house, always taking the way that passes near the fountain, when he'd heard that. He feels a chill rush down his spine--someone spent time in prison is here, nonchalantly mumbling to himself.

Is he really any better, he wonders? Even if this new arrival is a bloodthirsty murderer, Credence is just as bad. He's killed.

He's killed a lot.

Credence cants his head, immediately chiding himself, and looking at the arrival rooting through his bag. He should say something, he realizes, because staring at a complete stranger who's sopping wet in the middle of winter probably isn't a good thing.

"Sir?" He calls out, taking a few tentative steps forward. "Did you come out of the fountain?"

Of course he did. That's a stupid question, Credence.
repressings: <user name="goldsteins">, DNT (32)

[personal profile] repressings 2017-02-05 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Someone more sarcastic--someone more confident--would probably have something witty to quip back with. But Credence is Credence, and he can only dig his hands into his pockets and rock back on his heels.

Very stupid question, Credence.

"Would you like to go somewhere warm?" There. That's what to do, isn't it? He's always lead people to the inns before. Just because this man has been in jail and his stature is incredibly intimidating doesn't mean he can't do the same thing he always has.
repressings: <user name="goldsteins">, DNT (22)

[personal profile] repressings 2017-02-12 07:43 am (UTC)(link)
"Cold as--" no. He shakes his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets, before realizing that the probably doesn't want to know. Crude is the word that immediately comes to mind, and Credence's lips press into a thin line.

Surely, he's just startled and in shock? This man from prison has to have some sort of inclination to make other's more comfortable than Credence is certainly feeling.

"There's an inn, sir, if you want to gather your things and follow me. There are people here that can answer a lot of the questions I can't."

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mund: (2)

iii.

[personal profile] mund 2017-02-18 04:44 pm (UTC)(link)
The noise from the chicken coop is what gets Graves' attention; someone's whipping them up into an excited flutter, and he only catches the sight of an unfamiliar young man getting up off of the mud with an issued threat to the nonplussed fowl.

Bemused by the unexpected sight, and aware that the stranger definitely is going to need to clean up, he pauses beside the door, hands in the pockets of his coat. He doesn't recognize that face, and wonders briefly if he's part of a new spate of arrivals. "There's a bathroom in the inn if you require it."
mund: (13)

[personal profile] mund 2017-02-19 01:22 pm (UTC)(link)
"It won't come to that." At least, about the lookout thing, because that's really not a thing Graves is looking to do. And speaking of looking, he's gauged a few things: the young man before him is distinctly American, new, and is probably nursing a newfound grudge against chickens somewhere.

"There's no system of currency here, as far as I know. The people here rely on bartering." He pauses. "Which part of the States are you from?"
mund: (3)

[personal profile] mund 2017-02-25 03:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"And other daily essentials, I assume, including services." Graves pauses. He supposes trading in eggs will do, but it seems like they belong to the inn, and he's not sure if the innkeeper will have something to say about that.

Graves can't quite place him, especially not his vocation -- the quickest, most convenient way is to ask. "What are you good at?"

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