002; here's a fellow in blue jeans dancing with an older queen

[igotacrossbow]

WHO: Jake Jensen
WHERE: Edge of the woods/Jake's back yard
WHEN: August 8th, mid-afternoon
OPEN TO: OTA!
WARNINGS: Slightly off-key singing, but that's it
STATUS: Open

---

Waking up to find a small, yipping box on their front porch had definitely been outside the ordinary, but Jake had fallen head-over-heels in love with the little, wiggling puppy he found inside. He's always been a sucker for dogs. The first day had been spent mostly lying on the floor, playing with the little pup and letting it chew on his hands (he knows he shouldn't allow it to do that, but it's so cute), but then he had to braid it some kind of harness/leash get-up so he wouldn't run away. He may not have a name yet, but Jake would be absolutely devastated if he lost his smol dog son.

The sheet he'd wound up tearing into strips and braiding into a leash for the dog was a pale blue color, and Jake has to admire how it sets off the pale blue of the dog's eyes. His dog is so handsome! He'd taken him on a long walk around the village earlier in the morning to show him off, but then, unfortunately, duty calls. He'd promised Cougar earlier he'd start a wood pile, so despite the distraction of the puppy, he heads out to the forest to start hauling wood back to the house.

Using a rusty axe head that he'd managed to sharpen on a stone and fit with a new handle as the old one had all but rotted away, Jake manages to make it to the end of their little "yard" before the puppy's whining brought him back.

Which is how he finds himself with a dog leash in one hand and an axe in the other, singing to himself as he walks into the forest.

He's worked through most of Sam Cooke's greatest hits by the time he returns to the house, the dog leash tied around his waist so he can still hold the axe in one hand, the other being occupied with carrying the tree limbs he'd managed to hack down. There's a tree stump near the edge of what he considers the yard that will be perfect for splitting wood, and a scraggly looking bush he can tie the puppy to so he won't run away. It's as good a set up as he's going to ever get, so he sets himself to the task at hand, getting into a rhythm pretty quickly with the chopping.

He gets so into the swing of things that he actually starts swinging; his hips, that is. Dancing whilst chopping wood is a delicate maneuver, but he manages it, bopping along to his rendition of soul classics.

Comments

[thecatinahat]

Cougar's used to Jensen singing over the comms. He's had years of experience tuning him out. That said, he knows it's a good way to track the man and after he's finished the day's deliveries, he follows the sound of singing to find Jake moving in what can only be described as dancing, wielding a sharp weapon, with a dog nearby.

Everything about this is normal, sadly.

Except for the dog. Cougar stares for a long moment, gaze slipping down to debate whether Jensen is going to cut his own hand off through sheer accident, before he whistles along with the melody for two bars, perching himself on the porch steps as he stares at the dog and the dog stares back.

It's a contest that goes on for a very long time and eventually, he looks back up to where Jake is no longer singing or swinging. "Why is there a dog?" he asks, suspiciously staring at the dog. "Who did you take it from?"

[igotacrossbow]

Having finished Twisting The Night Away, Jake moves on to You Send Me, crooning at the puppy for a while as he hacks off the smaller pieces of wood and whittles the branches he's collected down to logs that require actual chopping. This require more concentration, which means he stops paying attention to the dog, which means he misses when Cougar makes his appearance and engages in a staring contest with the puppy.

The heavy weight of Cougar's stare prickling between his shoulders is familiar to him, and barely even registers any more.

It's a nice day, breezy and warm, but all this chopping is starting to make sweat crop up along his skin, so Jake gives in and hauls off his shirt, wiping his face with it before tossing it to the side. There's something so freeing about working shirtless; if he had more privacy out here, he'd probably take off his pants, too. Jake is something of a closet nudist, or at the very least, an exhibitionist.

Cougar's voice startles him, but not badly enough that he does something stupid like hurt himself. "Huh?" He turns, wiping his forearm over his forehead, and grins. "Oh, he's mine! He was in a box on the porch with my name on it. Freaky, huh?"

[thecatinahat]

Cougar's gaze slips over Jake carefully, across the shoulders as he scans for new scars or marks that will tell him what Jake might have been getting his nose into. He looks good (yes, he looks more than good, but that's a thought Cougar buries neatly under a pile of other thoughts he's entertained and dismissed over the years), still glancing at the dog.

"And you trust it?"

Strange gifts from a place that seems determined to trap them doesn't seem like the smartest thing to put your faith in. Even if the dog does have very pretty blue eyes.

[igotacrossbow]

"It's a puppy, Cougs," Jake points out, like Cougar is stupid and/or blind. "I hardly think it's got a bomb inside it."

Burying his axe in the stump with a thwack, he moves over to untie the puppy's braided leash from the bush he'd tangled it in, letting the leash fall to the ground so the puppy can bound forwards towards Cougar with all the unbridled enthusiasm Jake can completely relate to. He's that eager to run towards Cougar sometimes, too.

Best not to think about that.

"He doesn't have a name yet," he says, standing with his hands on his hips as he watches the puppy nearly tumble to a stop at Cougar's feet. "Go on, play nice."

[thecatinahat]

It's not that he thinks the dog has a weapon inside of it, but he also doesn't trust it to not have rabies or be trained to lash out at them when they least expect it. This place, after all, has kidnapped them, nearly drowned them, and tried to blow them away after stealing all their things. His charity isn't running high.

Still, the animal is hardly the cause of any of this, which means when the puppy skitters to a stop by his feet, Cougar bends down to heft up the little thing into his hands, pressing a splayed palm under the belly to hold up the dog with one hand like a tray, raising it to his eyes to study it carefully. The dog keeps staring back, but at the last minute of their contest, licks him. Cougar remains impassively calm, but adjusts his hold on the dog so he curls him in.

"We'll keep him," he decides, patting its head the once before setting it back on the ground. "Stay," he informs the dog, showing it how to tuck its legs back under itself into a sit, rewarding it with a hidden morsel of rabbit meat when the dog does well, nodding in satisfaction as the dog chomps away at it happily, sitting in place.

[igotacrossbow]

"I already decided we were gonna keep him," Jake mutters to himself, but can't stay annoyed as he watches Cougar play with his puppy. (He's a little annoyed at how well behaved the thing is when Cougar's the one in charge, but he can't blame him for that either. Cougar is just someone who expects to be obeyed, and it's hard not to. Jake gets it.)

Pleased that they seem to be getting on well, Jake turns back to his task.

"Cupid, draw back your bo-ow," he sings, lifting the axe and bringing it down hard to punctuate the rest between measures. "And let your arrow go-oh." The wood splits relatively neatly in two, and Jake smiles at it. Well done, wood.

[thecatinahat]

Cougar can't help his amused expression when Jake starts to sing again and that song particularly. He thinks it had been pointed specifically at him, which is fairly amusing. He leans down to pat the dog's head, hefting him up into his lap as he starts to speak to the animal in Spanish.

"Es un hombre divertido, sí? No le diga que va a ser un perro español," he murmurs, ruffling the ears. "He will hunt with me. Yes?"

[igotacrossbow]

"Straight to my lover's heart for meeeee," he continues, twisting to look at Cougar and going so far as to point a dramatic finger at him. If anyone is Cupid in this relationship, it's obviously Cougar, and Jake doesn't want to examine that thought too closely for fear of stumbling across thoughts that are better left unexamined for his own peace of mind and the state of their friendship.

Cougar with little fluttery wings is a hilarious mental image, though.

"No turning my dog against me!" he protests, the pointed finger becoming more accusatory. "I haven't even named him yet, you can't usurp his affections!"

[thecatinahat]

Cougar just holds Jake's gaze for the lyric and lets himself smirk a little, even if Jake has had no lover in some time and Cougar is typically the reason for it. Just because he doesn't think he wants to make a move doesn't mean he's good to see Jake with other people. Of course, then he sometimes takes those women for himself, but only so far as kisses and light touches.

"Is he my hunting dog?" he repeats calmly, because if he is, then there are certain things he wants trained right from the start.

[igotacrossbow]

"Well, I guess he can hunt with you," Jake allows, frowning slightly. It would be kind of pointless to have a dog in a place like this and not teach him how to hunt.

He's still a little wary, though, because Cougar has a habit of swooping in and charming the pants off anyone Jake has ever talked to, and he wouldn't put it past him to somehow charm his dog so that it likes Cougar better than him. He wouldn't really blame it, but it's kind of tiresome, to always play second fiddle to man.

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn was out an about early that day, off in the woods doing his usual hunting and gathering. Jo's home wasn't far from where Jake and his people lived. Which was odd to Thorfinn, his English may be bad but he knew numbers. It made no sense how their numbers were so far apart but they lived that close together. The village made no sense to him half the time anyway.

It was hearing singing and the sound of wood being split that brought the viking around from his usual path to the edge of Jake's yard. He blinked a little seeing the other blonde with an axe...and a dog. The gods are surely smiling upon the other warrior.

Thorfinn stood there with a bundle of kindling under one arm, and his pack over his other shoulder. "Good afternoon." He spoke out, hoping to not spook the other. "What is that you sing?" He knew songs, none like that though, he knew old sea shanties, war cries and poems, but nothing like what Jake was singing, the axe and the dog didn't matter as much as the strange words Jake sang.

[igotacrossbow]

Luckily, Jake was in the middle of selecting a new log to start to hack apart when he hears Thorfinn's voice drifting across the yard. He turns, his eyebrows lifting, and smiles immediately when he sees the shorter man, ignoring the way his dog starts to yap frantically at this surprise intrusion.

"Oh, hey man!" he calls out, lifting his hand in a wave.

Being caught singing by someone who isn't used to it from him is a little embarrassing, but Jake has already embarrassed himself in front of Thorfinn before, so he recovers quickly. "Sam Cooke," he replies, and then continues to explain because he knows that won't mean anything to him. "He was popular about fifty years ago, he was called the 'King of Soul.' Real popular, he wrote a lot of love songs."

[seekingvinland]

When the dog starts yapping, Thorfinn smiles in return to Jake. Clearly the man had a smart guard dog. Maybe the animal could smell the monster he was, he didn't now but it was an adorable creature yapping. His attention returning to Jake as he nodded.

"Hello." His English was improving day by day, he was learning how to speak some of the things he wanted to say, but his phrasing was still off. "Soul, like soul's of the dead?" He asked with a tip of his head, he didn't try to move closer yet. Staying at the edge of the yard. "The poems you sang is much pretty." he's still having issues with very. "Maybe you sing more?"

[igotacrossbow]

The dog is probably just excited to see another person, someone who might pay attention to him now that Jake is busy with the wood pile.

He thunks the axe into the wood stump, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and makes a gesture that's meant to invite Thorfinn closer but doesn't include any sort of beckoning gesture at all.

"Sort of," he allows, his hand see-sawing. "I think it refers to how your soul feels moved when you listen to it," he tries to explain, realizing as he speaks that his explanation probably goes right over Thorfinn's head but not really knowing how else to describe it.

He colors slightly when Thorfinn compliments him, not used to people responding to his singing with anything other than exasperation, and lifts a hand to scrub at the back of his neck. "Uh, okay," he said, thinking for a moment before launching into another song. "She was only sixteen, only sixteen, and I loved her so..."

[seekingvinland]

Thorfinn only moved closer once Jake spoke, dropping his pack and the pile of wood at the edge of the yard. Thorfinn nodded just a little, getting just a bit of it.

He said nothing else just yet, Jake's words went right over his head. Somedays he thinks his English is coming along, other days he feels like he desnt understand it at all still. He didn't know what else compare the poems Jake was singing to. The words felt both sweet and calm not at all like the war songs Askekladd's crew would get to singing when the ale went to their heads or they just decided to be rowdy.

Though Thorfinn had heard music in the Roadhouse back in Medietas, it was still such foggy memories of that place buried under time back home. So, as far as he could tell this was his first taste of a new beautiful kind of poetry. He didn't think it could be anything but beautiful. He listened to Jake sing, staying quiet as his brown eyes moved then from Jake finally noticing.

"You have Axe!" Everything else could wait.

[lastofthekellys]

There are many things to admire with the picture Kate finds in front of her on this after-lunch walk. That Mr Jake Jensen's found an axe, that he's gathered timber for firewood, that he knows how to chop it. That the swinging motions of both chopping and the dancing of his hips set off his magnificent physique in a way that is very, very distraction. That the axe itself gives her an idea. That he is singing, that she's not the only one who sings.

But all of that is as nothing as Kate stops, stares. Her dark hazel eyes going wide, her full lips parting in a surprised 'O'.

"Is... Is that a puppy?" she asks, voice filled with a cautious delight.

[igotacrossbow]

If Kate's admiring his physique, she'll love to watch him pause and reach behind his head to strip off his shirt, free hand lifting to make sure his glasses are still on his face before he twists to stretch his back. This has the added benefit of him noticing her arrival, thwacking his axe into the stump in front of him in time to hear her cautiously hopeful question.

"Sure is," he agrees, grinning at her, seemingly oblivious to the possibility that she might find him standing around shirtless objectionable to her sensibilities.

"I haven't named him yet," he continues over the frantic yapping of his puppy. "You wanna see?" Before she responds, he moves to untie the dog, letting his leash go so the puppy can bound over as excitedly as possible, his little braided leash dragging behind him.

[lastofthekellys]

Admire it she does, for a long moment before she remembers herself with a faintly strangled sound, a distinctly pink cast to her pale cheeks (she knows, she knows, she has the complexion of a fresh Irish rose and she is grateful for it, and yet sometimes it is most inconvenient) and a resolute look at his face.

And the puppy.

Yes, the puppy. The puppy is safer. Particularly when the little fellows comes galloping over, so determinedly eager that Kate has to laugh.

"Aw, no name yet, huh? What a fine thing to do to such a charmin' little man," she says, kneeling on the ground and expertly tussling gently with the puppy. "Yes, you, you're a charmin' boy aren't you, and lookit your eyes! Yes, yes, hello."

It's been a while since she's been around the Kelly dogs. She misses them.

[igotacrossbow]

Jake doesn't quite realize that Kate's blush is in regards to his semi-nudity. He's aware he's relatively good looking, and his body is in good shape, but he's not used to being considered attractive enough to cause distraction.

Watching her tussle with his dog brings a broad, indulgent smile to his face.

"Names are important!" he protests. "I can't just pick any name, it has to be a good name. He's gonna carry it for the rest of his life."

The dog is loving all this attention, yapping and wriggling like mad, his little tail a near blur at the speed it's whipping back and forth to showcase his incandescent joy. "I think he likes you," Jake points out, amused.

[lastofthekellys]

"You gotta remember that you're callin' it out, too," Kate points out. "Can't be all complicated like a racehorse's name. Or a name that you'll be ashamed of. Mr Abbott, one of our neighbours, let his little boy name their new sheepdog. Last I heard, he was still callin' out 'Fluffy' when workin' his sheep."

Gently, she manages to roll the puppy onto his back, and starts to rub his belly.

"He's a good little boy," Kate says, glancing up - and up. He's tall, is Jensen. Tall and half naked. "I grew up with dogs."

[igotacrossbow]

"Exactly!" Jake replies, watching as Kate rolls the puppy onto his back to rub his tummy, something the dog is only too happy to do.

"My niece named her rabbit 'Princess Little Piddles' and it got loose one time, and I had to go around the neighborhood calling out her ridiculous name like a total idiot." The rabbit had eventually been found in the laundry hamper, hiding beneath a pair of Beth's pajamas.

The dog's paws wave idly in the air as he soaks in this attention, tongue lolling. "Yeah, he is," Jake agrees, smiling. "I can tell," he continues. "I always wanted a dog, growing up, but I never was able to have one."

[lastofthekellys]

"Oh no," she laughs in something like a delighted horror. She can imagine it, and she can sympathise. Not so much the pet rabbit - that seems very posh, very British - but the lost pet and the ridiculous, faintly rude name.

"Well, you have a puppy right now," she continues, although her tone is a bit more thoughtful.

She'd needed salt. Wanted it, earned for it, worried about its lack. And there, a box of it arrived.

He'd wanted a dog, and now one has appeared.

[dnr]

When Jensen passes the little brown bungalow all the way out on the edge of where the village meets the woods, he may find he's not the only one singing. When he hits a certain note in a certain bar of a certain song, there's a sound like a long, throaty bay that's been sped up to a chipmunk speed. The voice's pitch shifts and twists as if searching, until it hits just the right note to produce that nails-on-a-chalkboard dissonance with Jensen's song.

Inside, there's a thump, a crash, and a grumbled string of profanity.

A small, wrinkly nose presses through the slats of the front porch, tail a-thumping, and lets out another enthusiastic, ear-splitting howl. She looks pretty pleased with her tiny self. It must sound great if you're a dog.

[igotacrossbow]

The first little howl surprises him. The second makes his own dog start to howl, until there's two warbling puppy howls rising up to the sky.

Jake has always been too curious for his own good, and so he takes a brief detour up to the house to see just what's causing his lil' baby to go into full wolf-mode.

It's another puppy.

"Oh, baby," he coos, instantly going gushy and googly-eyed over the little wrinkled bloodhound. (He thinks it's a bloodhound. It's got those long floppy ears and wrinkled little face, it looks like what he's pretty sure a bloodhound looks like.) "Look at you, sweetheart, you're such a good singer, yes you are. Are you friendly?" Before waiting for an answer — which the dog obviously can't give — Jake thrusts his fingers through the slats at her, fearless or careless depending on who you ask.

[dnr]

The pup's many wrinkles wiggle with excitement alongside the rest of her at all the attention. Jake's fingers earn a liberal application of wet nose and wetter dog lips for their trouble as she attempts to absorb all the new smells he's bringing in with her entire face. Catching sight of the other dog through the porch slats, she lets out another little howl.

From the relative dark of the house’s interior, there’s a creak in the floorboards. Frank squints out an open window at the other man. New guy. Funny how up close he looks a little like Captain America.

"You riling up my dog?" he asks, with a tough-guy tilt of the head. It's hard to tell how serious an accusation that is or isn’t, with Frank.