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fishermansweater

WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: House 57
WHEN: June 30 and following days
OPEN TO: OTA (with closed section)
WARNINGS: Nothing so far

JUNE 30

LOCKED TO ANNIE

The small, hairless mutt has been following Finnick and Annie ever since they found the thing. They'd thought that getting back in the boat might shake it off, but it had just followed them back along the river, trotting through the reeds and rushes on the bank as it went, and they hadn't been able to move quickly enough to shake it off. It hasn't actually done much to them, and it's shown no aggression, but Finnick's uneasy about it continuing to follow them all the way back to the village.

It's still trailing them as Finnick and Annie cut through the trees on the edge of the village, making their way back towards their house. They're not far away, and they can hear the distant murmur of the geese in their yard, when the creature starts to bark. That sets off the geese, whose voices take on a fussy, cranky tone. It makes Finnick and Annie hurry their steps back towards their house.

They break out into the open not far from their home, and immediately it's clear that something strange has happened. They'd been gone for less than two weeks, and yet there are vines climbing up the front porch, bushes larger and more numerous than they had been, and their carefully constructed bird pen is completely overgrown with weeds and scrub. Most of the birds are huddled on the porch, and when they see their owners, they let out a loud chorus of honking complaint. There are two peahens and Star perched on the roof, and Aloft runs out onto the porch steps, hissing at a small group of the big, dark-coloured geese that Finnick and Annie had seen on the riverbanks.

"What?" Finnick finds himself asking, staring at the unexpected tableau.

FOLLOWING DAYS

OTA

There is a lot of work to do to clear the goose pen and path up to Finnick and Annie's house from the plants that had overtaken the area during their absence. Finnick had noticed that there were a lot of plants growing around the village that he hadn't seen before, but nobody had seemed certain whether this was normal for this place or not.

Normal or not, it's not like anything Finnick's ever seen, not that he pretends to be any sort of plant expert. Johanna might have some suggestions, but she's been gone for weeks now, and he's slowly getting used to the idea that she's probably not coming back. So that leaves Finnick and Annie to try to work out what's happened, and if there's any way to get the plants out and keep them out.

The days after their return see Finnick in the yard more often than usual, often watched by a wary flock of birds and unwillingly attended by the hairless fishing dog, which seems to enjoy running around in circles around Finnick and Annie's house. The geese clearly don't trust it, and Finnick's not sure whether to or not. While the dog does whatever it is it's doing, Finnick is taking a machete to the scrubby overgrowth in the bird pen, or a hatchet to the overhanging branches on the trees.

"These things better not grow back that fast."

tosavecocoon

WHO: Oerba Dia Vanille
WHERE: outskirts of 6i, outside House 38...
WHEN: June 23rd
OPEN TO: Everyone!
WARNINGS: tbd

The last few weeks have been an adventure for Vanille. She hasn't been content to simply stay in the village, mostly because no one she's spoken to really knows much about the world around them. They've given her a general idea, which is better than nothing. Still, she's seen some of the animals around and wondered what else might be out there. No giant oretoises or behemoths can be seen even looking at the village, let alone out on the horizon. It makes her wonder.

Not that she's wanted to ask anyone yet. She's tried to be careful to fit in as best she can. Just like she did on Cocoon.

On her fourth day in the village, she decided to wander off. There's no one here she knows particularly well, no one to really miss her if she left for a while. Besides, if she could come back with more knowledge about the world around them, that would help everyone. And who better to go than someone who's used to the dangers of Gran Pulse life?

So she'd taken a few supplies to make sure she wouldn't be defenseless in case she ran into something and headed out. She spent a lot of time exploring, smelling the naturey smells and examining the plants, but eventually she'd come across a herd of purple and woolly animals. They were... really cute, didn't look particularly dangerous, reminded her of larger versions of sheep. She knew better, though, growing up on a planet where even the most docile animals could kill a seasoned hunter if provoked. So she took her time near them, spending days just watching them, learning their habits and getting them used to her presence. She never slept where they might be able to reach her and kept her body language and tone calm as she interacted with them. They didn't seem to mind her and eventually, they even let her approach.

So here she is, several weeks later, coming back with four purple fluffy animals and one much smaller that looks like a reptilian dog. The latter she'd run into on her way back with the four. It's apparently chosen her as a friend and won't leave her alone, not that she's tried hard to be rid of it. She has rope loosely tied around the fluffballs' necks to guide them and the knots appear to be easy to release should the animals panic or start to pull. She won't risk their health just because she thinks the four of them need a new home.

But that does make her wonder where she's going to put them. She hadn't really thought that far. So she and her unconventional pack of animals can be found wandering the village. Vanille takes them mostly around the outskirts of the buildings, so she doesn't risk frightening them with all of the noise and strange people. For a time, she lets them graze around the boathouse to get them used to the surroundings, but they do eventually end up close enough to be seen from the Inn and police station, if anyone decides to come say hello.

"Do you know of a good place to keep them for a while?" she asks anyone who does decide to approach them.

By the end of the day, she takes them down the row past the blacksmith and behind the town hall, to give both them and herself some space while also staying close enough to the village to know what's going on.

"We're going to need a good fenced in pen for you, aren't we?" she asks one of the purple ones, scratching it behind the ears. The animal leans into the gesture and she smiles. Well... if she can't have a chocobo, she may as well have four purple animals, right?

onen_i_estel

WHO: Aragorn
WHERE: Fountain, wandering the settlement, inn
WHEN: June 17th and 18th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: None really, will update

[ Fountain - Owen ]

Losto.

It was the last thing Aragorn remembers her saying before drifting into peaceful slumber. The day had been a long one. The festivities commenced shortly after his coronation led into the early morning hours and it was a party Aragorn wished to remain to the end of; to spend that time among his those he cared for and respected. Yet it is also a time that he quietly reflects on everything that has happened in the six months since Frodo left the Shire with the One Ring.

It was all over now.

With the Ring now destroyed and Middle-earth at peace from the evil Sauron, it was time to rebuild, grow and become stronger again. Yes, it would take time, Aragorn knew and there would be times when the past would come back and the faces of those they lost would remind them of the sacrifices that had been made to help get them to where they were now.

But then that sense of calm and rest suddenly shifts and the darkness beneath Aragorn's lids fades into a wicked blackness. His head and stomach twist and turn and a weight presses into his chest making it impossible to breathe or even move. He felt like he was drowning.

Echuio.

Grey eyes flash open and limbs begin kicking until Aragorn breaches the surface and tries to make sense of the whirlwind of things that are simple not right. The odd weight on his back, the feeling of restraints under his arms and over his shoulders. The lightness of his clothes.. the whiteness of them.

Gasping, the Ranger clings to the edge of the fountain, pushing away the dark hair that stuck to his face and in front of his eyes before moving to climb out. And when the water is rubbed out of his eyes and he can finally see Aragorn notices that nothing about these surroundings looks familiar.

[Translation: "sleep" and "wake up" ]

[ Wandering 6I - OTA ]

Even after a day, Aragorn had trouble grasping this new situation; the world, one that bore some similarities to his but one which was largely different, in a way that is immensely uncomfortable. No one would suspect it beyond the slightly troubled expression of someone that was new.

The Ranger turned King walked slowly through the dirt streets of the settlement and stops occasionally to study the houses or other buildings. He can guess their purpose, for the most part, but the other ones are a little harder to distinguish. Until he sees a few people going into the inn.

So he follows.

notbadcakeboss

WHO: Peeta Mellark
WHERE: The woods, The bakery
WHEN: June 16 - 30
OPEN TO: All, One closed prompt for Katniss
WARNINGS: Nada

The Bakery

It had taken time to adjust and let his paranoia about the village to subside. While he had decided that this wasn't the arena and he wasn't in the games, instinct kept him braced for violence or ambushes. Too often, he stayed up through the night, keeping watch and listening for the familiar sounds of the games. There were no canons, no images in the sky and no mutts to chase them. After a month, he was able to relax and rest during the night. The more he regained his energy and strength, the more he felt ready to make something of his life here.

He'd been directed to the bakery and warned in advance that it needed to be cleaned. The building was at least in tact, even if it had dust, dirt and leaves everywhere. He'd have to scrub it from the walls to the floor, but it would be worth it in the end.

He certainly wasn't about to be above putting people to work, especially if they showed interest in what he was doing. "This will go a bit faster if you give me a hand." He said, smiling at whoever was peeking inside.

The Woods [Closed to Katniss]

He never cared for the woods in District 12, having lived more in the village than in the Seam. He didn't have to survive in the way Katniss did, though that wasn't to say it was any better. He'd always admired her ability to trek out into the forests and collect game. It certainly had kept them both alive in the the arena, even if he hadn't been able to contribute much.

But that could be changed here. After Mark's lesson on plants, Peeta had revived the familiar project that he and Katniss had started in 12. The plants were different and apparently more dangerous. They'd need to keep track of them, especially if someone who happened to recognize the plants happened to leave. This also let him feel as if he was contributing, as he couldn't hunt like Katniss.

Perhaps even better, it gave him a chance to be alone with her. He would be glad to wander off into the woods now for that. There was nothing to distract or drive them apart. His mood was bright, despite where they were and had no answers in how they came to be there. He grinned at Katniss, picking one of the Forget Me Nots. "Here, for you."

fishermansweater

WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: The woods, by the fields, and the Inn
WHEN: June 6
OPEN TO: EVERYONE
WARNINGS: None so far but always the chance of Panem-related asshattery

THE WOODS

OTA

He thinks they're dandelions. At least, they look like dandelions. But for all his training, edible-plants was never Finnick's strongest point. Fishing, hunting, improvising nets and ropes out of whatever he could find around him, those were the skills that got him through the arena of the 65th Hunger Games. So when he finds that a spot in the woods near one of his fishing traps has, in the space of a few days, erupted into a carpet of fluffy white balls that burst seeds into the air as he walks through them, Finnick's immediate response is uncertainty.

He crouches down by one of the plants and peers at its leaves. Dandelions, he knows, are safe to eat. He's seen tributes eat them in the arena. But he isn't sure if these are actually dandelions or just some other plant that acts like them, and he can't remember as he studies the leaves whether or not that's what dandelion leaves look like. if they were dandelions, shouldn't there have been flowers? Or at least, flowers for longer than the time it's been since Finnick last walked through this spot?

Maybe someone in the village will know. Maybe Katniss will know, since somehow she seems to know a lot more about how to survive in the wild than any tribute from her District he's ever seen. (There's a story there, somewhere, but it's a story that nobody would expect anyone else to share, at least not someone who's spent as long under the Capitol's surveillance as Finnick.)

So Finnick gathers a collection of leaves from the plants, and tries his best to collect one of the fluffy heads without it bursting into the air, and puts them in one of the woven baskets he and Annie use for transporting fish.

THE FIELDS

OTA

Finnick plans to stop by the fields on his way home, with the vague thought that there might be someone there who's able to help him work out what the plant he's found is. But as he cuts across from the woods towards the fields, Finnick's suddenly overcome by the smell of salt on the breeze, the tangy smell of the sea that means home.

He stops, uncertain, and raises his trident, his body suddenly tense, the alertness that's always running under the surface suddenly springing to the surface. It's impossible that he's smelling the ocean here; surely it can only be some sort of trap.

He waits, only sign of movement the rapid rate at his his gaze goes from one spot to another, scanning trees, shrubs, anything that could act as cover. It's only slowly that he realizes there's no real apparent danger, and heads towards the smell.

THE INN

OTA

The smell of the sea had turned out to be coming from another unexpected spring blossoming, this time an expanse of purple flowers on the boundary of the fields. He doesn't remember seeing wildflowers there before now, and now there are so many of them that they look like a field of their own. Since he already has a sample of uncertain flora in his pack, he'd picked some of these flowers, too, and he heads for the Inn with his samples in his backpack.

He stalks into the main room of the Inn, because it's one of the places it's common to see a lot of the villagers gathered. He has one of the purple flowers in his hand, and he holds it out, his head tilted to one side, as he leans on the never-stocked bar.

"Is it me, or are there more plants around than there should be?"

[ We're playing with Fluffpods and Forget Me Nots! Check them out on the Flora list for more information about them. ]

pharmakis

WHO: Circe
WHERE: The village, the woods
WHEN: 6/3
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Mentions of mortality and death

The Village

Fear was rare in the gods and it was always over the unknown. For Circe, the moment that fear came to her was not when she climbed out of the fountain and found herself in a different realm, it was when she heard the sound of her heart and felt blood racing through her veins. Mortality was a concept she had thought of and considered, but never experienced and not in such a jarring way. It was almost as though she were living Glaucus' tale, she fell asleep and was changed. But she knew the reason behind his transformation. Had she done this to herself?

As she had when she arrived on Aiaiai, she had needed a day to curl in her room and let her fears pass before she explored and accepted her home. This was no difference. She disappeared after her arrival, preferring the woods to the village. She had found a mossy bank surrounded by strange flowers, wrapped herself into a ball and slept.

When the morning came, she was dry, the strange bracelet was still on her wrist and she could still hear her heartbeat. This wasn't a dream and she couldn't allow herself to cry herself until she became a tree or stone. Resolved, Circe pushed herself from her hideaway and trailed back towards the village. There was more life now, something that she hadn't seen the night before. There were animals, the sound of others working and mortals tilling in the fields.

She watched at a distance for a time, trying to decide whether this was some set prepared by the Olympians or some new punishment devised for her by the Fates. Had Aeetes cast some spell? It seemed unlikely and her intuition said no. With that simple reassurance, she pushed herself to find an empty home, assuming that it was for them to choose, ready and prepared for them. There was one near the riverbank that she liked, close to what looked like a Mill.

It was empty and dirty, unlike the mansion she had been given during her exile, though this meant little. It gave her something to focus on instead. She pulled her pant legs up to her knee and tied her hair into a loose braid, ready to work. The rooms needed dusting and there were paw prints from animals, she would have to find something to hunt the predators (as well as provide company.) Much of the plumbing was foreign to her, but that didn't matter in the moment.

She took the linens from the bedroom, washing them in the nearby river. There was a stone she could use to beat the sheets with, but this needed someone else to help her lay out the linens against larger stones. She scanned the path, curious and hesitant. Still, being shy and hanging her head would do her no good now. Summoning that same courage her powers had given her before, she called out to a passing mortal. "Could you come help me?" Not a demand, that was where the gods would mock her. "I need another set of hands if I hope to get these dry before the sun goes down."

The Forest

Her second day in the village was to clean her home, the third was to rebuild the garden that she had left behind in Aiaiai. She hadn't taken the time to explore the woods after she arrived, wanting to rest and let everything sink in (though she still had no answers). Most of the plants in the village gardens and fields were familiar to her, as hundreds of cultivating them allowed. But there were different flowers and vines in the forest that she didn't recognize. They didn't sing to her as her garden had, another unfriendly reminder of the magic she had lost. The creatures were different as well. There were no boars or wolves to keep her company, only strange amalgamations of two different types of animals. It left her questioning whether this was Zeus' personal playground, the place where his monsters could grow, but that seemed unlikely.

There were hostile creatures and others that were hesitant, but a few friendlier animals approached her. By the time of late afternoon, she had found a small collection of beasts to take back with her. Something that was pink and resembled a type of sheep, an animal that jumped as high as a goat but looked close to an elk, a weird crocodile/dog mesh and a cat with peacock feathers. They regarded her in different terms, but they were enticed enough to follow, both by treats, kind words and simply curiosity.

With a full basket, she was nearing the forest's edge, animals in tow. It was only the sudden snapping of a branch that nearly made them all disperse and run back into the wild. "No, don't be afraid!" She turned, dropping her basket as she knelt to try and lure them back towards her. "It's only a mortal. There's nothing to fear. They won't hurt you." She looked over her shoulder towards the figure. "Stay still. They don't know to trust you yet."

Sixth Iteration

Logs

Entries tagged with - plot: wild & wooly

Credits & Style Info

ψ they got the cages they got the boxes | OTA

JUNE 30

FOLLOWING DAYS

try to find a way to make things better now

ni leithiad

"With my paintbox I can make..."

ψ haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? | OTA

THE WOODS

THE FIELDS

THE INN

" I closed my eyes. If I had been a mortal, I would have heard the beating of my heart."