Devil's Tower

Who: Wren, Windchaser, Cat and whoever else
Where: By the river
When: Sunset
Why: Because Wren's birthday requires celebration

Windchaser had decided at fairly short notice that some event was needed to clear the air after the war, and to keep her busy. She needed to do something other than wallow and the best was she’d ever distracted herself was to focus on other people. Wren’s birthday was a perfect reason for both.

Too short notice and probably too personal to take place at the trading post, a quick parlez with Wren’s new ‘he’s not my boyfriend, honestly’ had secured some relatively safe space on the river bank and by bartering and networking like crazy people Windchaser and Black Cat had managed to gather enough stuff and drop enough ‘bring your own bottle and a gift if possible and DO NOT tell Wren’ type hints, to drum up what looked like it might well turn out to be a decent surprise party. It was officially an open to all invite, though if any of the Jackals turned up, they might not prove so welcome. Now it was just a case of hoping no one had blabbed and figuring out how to get Wren down there without her suspecting.

Windchaser really hoped that Wren would like the ornate Chinese kite Windchaser had received while she was still a drifter for treating a broken leg. She loved it and had carried it around with her, but Wren was definitely the best person to hand it on to.

When: Saturday afternoon, when the sun is at its highest
Who: Wren and Cat
What: Wren decides its hot enough for a dip in the river
Where: The Belle Fourche/River Runner territory
Rating: Nc-17

Wren had had enough, she'd become shuddery, jittery and quickly annoyed by the time the war was over and listening top hushed whispers in grave voices did nothing to comfort her.  She'd almost lost the ability to pretend to the children because she was caught between having to pretend and having to act like a grown up.  She could only imagine what people felt like in wars past.  She was scared, she wasn't afraid to admit it, just walking outside she was afraid she may be subject to the same fate as Libby or as the members who wondered out and where then delivered to the door with throats open and pulsing with blood.  It was gruesome and soul destroying.

Rising later than normal on Saturday she sat and realised she could not remember the last time she went for a swim, a keen swimmer, but not pro, Wren loved the feeling of the cool water on her skin.  After eating and wearing out the kids for the afternoon she grabbed a bag, stuffed a towel in it with a few cigarettes and a jumper she found herself walking down the river, nodding to the few runners who guessed she was taking a dip.  Most of the boys didn't mind, so long as she swam past them and flashed them a bit of bare flesh out from under the water.  Stopping under a stooping tree she laid the bag down and shed the shirt she'd been wearing.  Abandoning her bra and shorts afterwards, followed by her socks she dipped a toe in the water and sighed.  She was glad she could do this again, free to swim at her leisure and only worry a fraction of what she used to about people coming out from the trees and jumping in after her...

The water was nice and cold, but the air warmed by the sun meant everytime she popped up from under the surface she wasn't met with frigid air.  After wading out far enough she began to slowly swim up and down, a few times either side of the river, lengths almost, and then she took off towards the boats, swimming behind them slowly, being nosey and looking into some of the windows to see who was about.  Stopping a little to admire a floral box one of the runners had assembled on their boat Wren silently thanked god that the Lions were gone.

Week Thirteen
WHO: Black Cat and whoever he runs into
WHAT: Exploring
WHERE: River Runners territory
WHEN: Friday
RATING: TBD
STATUS: Incomplete and Open

Black Cat roused slowly, the light creeping in through the window of the boat rousing him, but the rocking of the craft on the water keeping him lulled in relaxation. Not that he was ever particularly stressed. It was an unusual morning, by virtue of the fact he was sleeping alone, but he always got up early, normally paying scant regard to whoever it was who slept beside him. It wasn’t that he didn’t respect women, he really did, the memory of his sister and mother always staying close to the forefront of his generally restless mind. It’s just that it always seemed, just a little to easy, he’d pull all the wise old soul stuff that he always did, spin a yarn or two about the old country and that would be it. It wasn’t earned, so it meant less.
He wandered out onto the damp jetty beside his boat, agile feet gripping as he moved to sit looking up, to feel the rays of the see new sun hitting the skin of his bare chest and the coolness of the wood beneath his feet. He looked around at this place he found himself in. How odd, in the midst of what so many other people would have deemed chaos, to have found himself his first permanent home in years, or as permanent as he could let it be.
For all his front, for all the cheeky chappy, wise old sage, couldn’t care less attitude, he did care, or he wanted to, he wanted to be like his Da, and care more for one human being or one group of human beings than he did himself. He wanted his yarns to be the same as the real ones his parents would tell about dancing around each other doing ridiculously romantic things, just so they could spend time together. He wanted one very boring thing, to be normal again.
He sighed, he’d made himself an image to live by now, that of the post Virus rock star, and even though, now he’d grown up a bit it wasn’t really him any more, but he didn’t know how to leave that image behind.
He shrugged off the thoughts and got back on his boat, changing into daytime clothes and setting out to explore around the River Runners territory. He was new here and he hadn’t really met anyone yet, so it was time to get out there and do the meet and greet.

***OOC: Be sure to label the subject line of every post with either "Open" or the names of the chars that are involved in a particular thread! This will help eliminate confusion and let you know what threads are up for grabs!***
Who: Anyone and everyone who’s in Sundance at the time!
What: St. Patrick’s Day/Spring party!
Where: The Trading Post
When: Saturday
Why: Because it’s fun!

In the warmer months the Trading Post is almost always busy, full of drifters and members from every tribe who come there to barter, socialize, and a whole host of other things. It’s generally a peaceful place since it exists in neutral territory and everyone who comes there seems to have an understanding of an unspoken truce. The Trading Post is a large park the sits on the banks of the Belle Fourche river. There are picnic tables, a delapidated swingset and monkey bars, old grills, and of course trader stands. There’s also a dock there, but it is understood to belong to the River Runners, as it’s where they are docked most of the year and those wishing to use it usually have to give the RR a token of some kind, or at least ask nicely.

The St. Patrick’s Day/ Spring party was not planned or hosted by any tribe. The whole things seemed to have come about on its own, first as a rumor and then with complete strangers and tribe members alike planning for it. Saturday morning the place was busy with people decorating in any way that they could. The place was strung with streamers of all different colors, some torn and ratty. There were candles, and lanterns strung about and a few different musicians set up throughout the park. By the time the sun set the park was teaming with people, more people than it had seen in years. Between the boos and the open admission there was no telling what the night would hold.