sixthiterationlogs | if the sky can crack [OTA mingle]

Hail had been falling for two days now, peppering the ground and shredding the grass but rather than melt away like a late spring storm it had only intensified, growing in diameter and moving from a mild annoyance to damned near deadly. As the storm raged, ice flew up through updrafts and was forced back to earth in the downdraft, accumulating layer after layer of murky debris until it went hurtling toward the earth with wicked accuracy.

Shingles were ripped from roofs, the wind howled and lightning cracked. The hail had driven both humans and animals into the safety of the indoors, to the dark corners of buildings that might withstand the assault. With only candlelight and the hushed voices of villagers to stave off fear and boredom, the storm raged like a sentient being heedless of those who might be caught in the path.

After the storm, a calm came over the land and weak sunlight glinted off smoke-tinged ice. Steam rose from the melt and humidity was thick in the air; petrichor hung heavy, a soothing scent after a savage display of natural fury.

[OOC: Your hail mingle post. Feel free to have characters on the run, gathering animals or inside the Town Hall waiting out the storm.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

One left, thank the gods. She had managed to catch one, and while it fought her every step into the police station, it was finally secured in its cage. Gilbert stood in front of the sheep's pen, barking loudly at them until Margaery closed the cell door. Satisfied that they wouldn't escape, the dog charged outside again to wrangle the last goat.

Margaery followed after, her eyes scanning the terrain for Hawke. "Have you found him?" She asked, her heart in her throat. This storm had caught her by surprise. Had she known or suspected something was coming, she would have brought the animals in early. None of them liked foul weather. She should have known this would happen.

As Hawke charges out to find the last goat, following the dog's lead, she thinks that they might need a healer or something if they end up bruised by the hail. This invariably makes her think of the only healer she's ever known and a scowl crosses her face. She's really getting tired of this place making her think of Anders. It's been over a year. One would think she'd be over him by now.

But she isn't, not since he was such a staple of her life for six years.

She shakes those thoughts out of her mind, ending up making it look as though she's shaking her head at Margaery's question. "Not yet, but your dog went that way," she says, pointing in the direction of the dog's movements. "I'll see if I can catch up to him."

The hail was starting to fall a bit more heavily, still small in size but a nuisance. Her cows lowed pitifully from the police station. Given the nature of the storms in this place, it was little wonder that they didn't like it when the weather turned. There had been earthquakes, lightning and now hail. It wasn't a simple existence like they had in the woods.

She waited impatiently by the door, her eyes trailing over the sky as she listened for the sound of Gilbert and Hawke.

The puppy had sniffed out the billy, tracking him to a large shrub where he had gotten tangled among the branches. His ribbon had been caught, helping to keep him in place rather than making the situation worse.

It takes Hawke a little time to locate the last goat, but thank the Maker for the dog and the ribbon. She's slow about approaching so she doesn't startle him further and eventually she manages to untangle him. With one hand on the ribbon and one gently but firmly gripping the top of his neck to lead him, she moves them towards the station.

"Come on, little fellow," she tells the dog, like it's a mabari and can understand every word she says. "I could use a little help here."

Maybe it will understand somehow. Whatever the case, she manages to get it back, trotting through the hail with her head bent until the reach the shelter. "Here you go. One last goat." She says a silent prayer to the Maker that this isn't going to turn out to be part one of some long fetch quest.

Gilbert follows after even without the command. Until the goat was safely in the cell, he was going to tail the creature as he'd been trained. Every now and then, he let out a bark at the billy, a command to keep walking or a sign that he was keeping an eye on the situation.

Margaery spied them as they neared the station. She hurried outside and scooped up the goat in her arms, carrying him back inside. "Thank you. I counted the animals and there are none missing. I'm very grateful for your help."

Once they were all locked up safely, she turned back towards Hawke with a smile. "I'm Margaery."

"Helping is what I do," Hawke replies dryly, though not insincerely, watching as the woman carts the goat off. She's had plenty of experience with plenty of things, but not so much goats. Or sheep. Or halla. A part of her wishes Merrill were here. Then she might have someone more used to dealing with animals.

"Call me Hawke," she replies, rather than say any of that. "Everyone else does."

Hawke shakes off some of the remaining hailstones, kicking a few back outside where they belong. They won't have hurt her permanently, but they have stung. If she knew of a decent healer, she might be inclined to go for a check-up.

"At this rate, I'll be shaking out hailstones for a week."

"You are new, I think?" She asked, shaking the small hailstones from her hair. By the time she returned to the bungalow, her curls would be soaked and there would be tiny bruises. While the hail wasn't serious, it stung when it hit her. "The weather is always strange and irregular in this place."

She smiled, glancing outside as the ground became littered with hail. It was almost like looking at the snow again. Thankfully, nothing was being damaged or broken. It was bearable, unlike the lightning storm.

"I hope no one was in the woods. Should we walk to town hall together?"

"Unfortunately obvious," she jokes dryly. By now there's little use in trying to hide the fact that she is so new. She's still learning her way around this crazy place.

"If by walk you mean run side-by-side and hope the hail doesn't bruise us too badly, then yes," Hawke drawls, though her smile says she wouldn't mind making the joke a reality. "Let's go before our opening closes. We don't want to get caught here for however long this lasts."

They were all new once and confused. She offered a kind smile, peering outside into the storm. She wasn't joking. They would need to run to get to safety.

"I have a cloak that we can hide under." She always kept a spare one in the police station, giving her something to bundle herself in during the winter when one cloak didn't seem to be enough. She grabbed it, holding it over their heads. "Are you ready?"

A cloak to hide under is a good idea. Hawke nods, grasping one end to hold it over herself while Margaery has the other end. “Let’s go before we get stoned.”

She’s a good runner, having done so much of it through Lothering and in and around Kirkwall, but she’ll keep pace with Margaery, hoping that the hail won’t do too much damage to them while they’re running. Not quite running for their lives, but it’s still running for something.

It's not that far from the police station to the inn. A few stay stones land in the right place to hit her hands or arm, it's not nearly as painful as she worried about.

Once they reach the inn, Margaery shakes the cloak, knocking off the balls of ice. There were a good number of people present, all driven to the same location. She smiled at Astrid. "We will have to wait it out for now." Though there was no telling how long it would last.

Hawke, being as unlucky as she is, somehow draws the hailstones and she ends up pelted with more than a few. By the time they reach the Inn, she feels rather like she's been the subject of some joke in Darktown. Just another day in her life, really.

Still, she shakes off some of the stray hail once they get inside, her hair fluffing up like a cat's. Perfect. Just what she needed.

"Likely so," she agrees. "Which begs the question of what do we do now. I wonder if anyone has a deck of cards?"

"I believe there are some games here and if need be, I could quickly run to my home and bring back the ones gifted to me. I don't live very far from here." It wasn't that painful to run to and from.

"We can at least begin with cards left behind. Come, let's find a seat."

[ooc: Fade out?]

if the sky can crack [OTA mingle]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject