if the sky can crack [OTA mingle]

[sixthiteration]

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.]

Comments

[3ofswords]

"I guess I should ask the guy who all but told me he ran guns and brothels back home," he sighs, leaning his head back as the damp wood starts to smoke, catching on embers. "But, you know, super clean and empowering ones where women are only there because they have a love of the craft, or something."

He's rolling his eyes even now, standing up to leave the kettle boiling and walking far enough away that Aurora starts to look between them, like she's not sure who might need her comfort--or give her more attention for it--in this situation. He doesn't push her by making a noise or gesture in either direction.

At the window, he runs a hand along the sill to check the seals: the wood is damp, and it's entirely possible a piece of hail is going to bust a window or three before the end of the night. It just reminds him of the panes Casey had gutted from Ren's house, the start of a slow-burning fight that Kira regrets, now. Those materials are sitting in the cellar with the wood and stove, waiting to serve their purpose, and Casey isn't waiting anywhere. "I think we're always in trouble, one way or another. If the hail doesn't stop we just deal with it. Between the two of us we can probably trek out under the dining room table if we have to."

Turning back, he shrugs with half a smile: "You'll understand if I eat you before I eat the dog, right?"

[zomboligist]

Ravi starts to lean towards Aurora, because if Kira isn't going to steal the dog's attention, then he is more than willing to be that guy. He makes a little hand motion and beams when she actually drifts closer, like he's just won a lottery. Really, this is better, this is the love of a dog. Who wouldn't want that? "I'd like to think we could attempt to eat some of the more organic parts of the house before we turn to cannibalism," he says conversationally, like this is just the sort of thing that two men talk about in their spare time.

"Or," he offers, "we could lure someone in from outside and work together to eat them!" That's just true friendship, as far as Ravi's concerned, and it shows real gumption in working together.