Devil's Tower

Who: Gaia and OPEN to Mountain Lions
What: Exasperation? And sewing clothing!
When: Sunday, (around noonish)
Where: Her room at the Lodge
Rating: PG (I'm assuming)
Status: Incomplete

It was terribly quiet. Perhaps, unusually, could apply as a fitting word. Gaia barely glanced outside of her window as she efficiently cut a thread with her teeth. She was on her bed, surrounded by all types of clothing, and was sewing most of them by hand. If she could do it by hand, then she would do it by hand. There was a certain satisfaction of doing it herself; not relying on a machine to do the work her fingers could easy attend to. And her fingers did. Long, agile fingers moved rapidly along the seams … adding a button here, re-stitching a pocket there, and twisting the thread as expertly as possible, in such a way to leave it nearly unnoticeable.

Although her eyes were focused on her tasks, as was most of her mind, a part of her wondered at the silence. Even the weather seemed to hint at it with a sense of unease. Seemed to mock the stillness with an air of foreboding and with its dark clouds …

Quirking a brow more at herself than at the work in front of her Gaia let out a little sigh. She really had to stop reading Poe before bed. Had to stop reading Yukiko R.L. Stine for fun. It put her in the mindset of an overly maudlin melodramatic. Nevertheless, despite her typically practical mindset, Gaia couldn’t deny the fact that the current mood of the Lodge at this very moment was contrary to everything that was happening at Sundance. A lot of things were happening at Sundance if even half of the things she had heard were correct. If her sister hadn’t been half-asleep she would have been restlessly repeating that ‘a-fun is a-coming.’ Words that caused Gaia to sigh again, only this time in exasperation.

Why couldn’t anyone be into drama-less fun? Noooo, they all had to be into activities that’d get somebody in trouble. And they wondered why she preferred spending time in her room rereading classics or doing her duty as a seamstress. She didn’t mind listening to others problems, she didn’t mind lending advice … but really, there was only so much drama she could hear about (whether intentional or not) before began to question about people’s sanity or intelligence. Not nice questions at all, either.

WHO: Azrael & OPEN
WHERE: The Lodge
WHEN: Saturday afternoon
WHAT: TBD

The office at the Mountain Lions' lodge was on the top floor and had a large picture window, equipped with a scenic view of the power grid looming on the horizon. It had a large writing desk, a couch, and a few chairs, but the space not taken up by professional furnishings was occupied with piles and piles of books - everything from reference to poetry - strewn haphazardly across the room in a system of organization (if there actually was one) known only to their owner. Most of the books had long ago been inscribed on the inner cover with the name "J. Fraser" in the untidy cursive befitting a teenage boy, but others said boy had accumulated in the past couple of years since the virus by theiving them out of various places from which they would no longer be missed.

It was in this office that the majority of the Mountain Lions' decisions were made, most of which called into question their morality. The character of their leader, specifically, seemed to be a popular subject of scrutiny. This room, with its calming watercolor landscapes hung on the walls and other conservative, tasteful decor, was witness to all of the crimes and cruelties of J. Fraser, better known as Azrael.

When the Lions had adopted the lodge as their home, Azrael had immediately staked out this particular room, once an administrative office of some sort, as his war room/library. It was where he held his meetings and spent a good portion of his time reading, and his followers could usually find him there unless he had ventured out due to business or just plain restlessness. At any given time there was likely to be a number of books lying open on various surfaces around the room, and the mahogany writing desk was usually covered with papers scribbled across in that same scrawl. Azrael was usually seated behind the desk accomplishing said scribbles, or lounging across the couch with a book in hand.

Today, he stood at the window, arms across his chest, watching the rain drizzle on the other side of the glass. Winter was coming, and Azrael was in a generally down mood. He hadn't even gone to the dance the Wolves had hosted the night before; he just didn't feel like causing trouble at the moment, which was quite uncharacteristic of him.

Who: Gaia and Ace
Where: Her bedroom ... He wishes.
When: Week Four, Tuesday Evening.
What: Can't old friends just have a chat?

The sun was setting and peeking slightly through the shaded window. Breaking through the blinds it provided Gaia with enough light to read.  She was currently rereading Pride and Prejudice. It was one of her favorite books. It hadn't always been that way. She used to think the book far too close to home, with the pretentious cold way that it displayed the wealthy. The way they felt they had right to all. Not to mention Gaia had never liked the fact that there were moments in her life when she was no better than Caroline Bingley. Funny how things barely changed over two hundred years into the future. It also hadn't helped the fact that she had thought Darcy utterly boring and Elizabeth a big brat. Then again she had been thirteen when she'd first read the book and had been coming off a Breakfast Club obsession high. The delights of classics.

It'd been because of an English requirement that had forced her to watch the movies and reread the book that had plunged her deep into the world of wonder that was all things Jane Austen.  Plus, it didn't hurt that Matthew Macfayden and Colin Firth looked damn near sinful in breeches. And the lake scene? Gaia let out quite the girlish sigh when she thought of the scene. Flipping the page with a slight pout she sulked in thought that never again, at least in no time soon, would there be a Darcy on screen with such caliber. And such fine backsides.

Who: Nova and Gaia
Where: The trading post
When: Monday, Noon
Why: They're planning on starting a sewing circle.  No, really. 

Her first visit to the trading post had been interesting. To say the most. She didn’t have any plans in making it a frequent part of her weekly itinerary but it continued to pique her curiosity, for some strange reason. She still wondered about the type of people that she could meet there since her last voyage had only led her to encounter another Mountain Lion. She thought of how it would be like to bargain; probably no different than it had been like bargaining in Manhattan, something she had always been horrible at. Gaia had no head for money and a part of her had always liked to think that the reason people spiked prices so high was because of need not for want. Therefore, she’d happily paid the price. It wasn’t as if she’d been lacking in currency. Now, however, she supposed it would be good to learn to bargain, everything was so much more precious it wouldn’t do to lose out because she had more of a head for books and words than for numbers and money. 
 
With curiosity over who she would find at the post this time, a need to improve her mathematical skills, and a boredom that could rival Yuki on a bad day, Gaia closed the book she had been reading and went to get dressed. Today, uncharacteristically, she felt in the mood for jeans and sneakers. Pulling out ratty, gray sneakers and a pair of Baby Phat jeans, she put them on and coupled them with a light gray t-shirt that had pink ballerina shoes on it and a black hoody that had a multi-colored butterfly on the back. With a few of the sweaters she’d had knitted stuffed into a large shoulderbag she was good to go. Yuki was out from running around the Lodge all day long and would still be asleep by the time she returned. Leaving a simply written note anyway on the dresser, Gaia was ready to go. 

WHO: Watts and OPEN
WHERE: Trading Post
WHEN: Friday morning

Her original intention had been to make an early start to the trading post, but Watts had been confronted with yet another emergency late last night. There seemed to be no bounds as to how the incompetents who passed for her "apprentices" could fuck up, and fuck up they did, on a regular basis. The boiler had blown out at three in the morning, and the basement of the lodge had undergone minor flooding before somebody thought to go wake up the mechanic who, in the midst of many yawns, glares, and violent curses, had fixed the thing in twenty minutes flat. She hadn't been able to get back to sleep for hours.

Watts usually woke up at the crack of dawn, went jogging, and then headed down to the power plant to make sure no major catastrophes had occurred overnight. Today, she didn't particularly care - if they were stupid enough to screw up more than once in less than seven hours, they deserved to be frantic for a little while. She felt she deserved a bit of a lie-in, and she was in desperate need of several supplies, most of them tools that people had carried off and lost. Cigarettes were another necessity, having smoked the last one the night before.

Her tribemates would not be pleased to hear that she'd gone off on her own out of Mountain Lion territory, but Watts, though small, was of the opinion that she could take care of herself. Besides, while not one of the most prominent members of the tribe, people usually remembered the Mountain Lions' mechanic - she could be found at the trading post at least once a week and was always willing to pay very well for the parts people found for her. Her bright red hair made her easily recognizable, her fair methods and the excellent goods she brought to trade with made her likeable, and her status with the Mountain Lions made sure nobody messed with her.

It was a cloudy day, and it looked as though it might rain, so the trading post wasn't as crowded as it might normally be on a Friday. Watts hitched her bag up on her shoulder and gathered her jacket around her, looking around for some of her usual suppliers. Though she was later than she normally was, perhaps some of them might still be around.

Who: Jace, Yuki, and Gaia
What: Little troublemaker finds an expert and big sis goes through various shades of mad
Where: the ML Lodge and wherever drifters roam
When: Wednesday, of week three

Chin sitting heavily on her hand the seven year old stared out the window with an overly dejected look on her little features. It was nice out and she was stuck inside. Again. No one wanted to play with her. Again. Danni was no where to be found. Her sister was busy. Again. And she didn't dare ask the other mountain lions. With nothing to do inside and no one to go with her outside, she was completely bored out of her ever loving mind!

Who: Anyone who attends the cage fight (all are invited!)
Where: Mountain Lion Territory, largest warehouse on the Vance Copper Mine property.
When: Saturday from dusk till late into the night
Why: Because gambling and bloodshed is fun!
(((OOC: This post is simply a starter for those of you who want to attend the cage fight. Please post all cage fight related threads here. J)))

Northeast of Sundance lies the open pit Vance Copper Mine. Before the virus it was a busy area. The price of copper had skyrocketed in the last fifteen years and by the time the virus struck the mine was so profitable that it was in operation 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. After the virus the mine had become a place of death and fear. The open pit was now nothing more than a yawning coffin, its stepped sides like rows of teeth grinning up at those that dared walk to close to its edge.

The mine warehouse was abuzz with life in a way that it hadn’t been for the past two years. In the center of the fluorescent lit building was an enormous chain-link cage. It’s a square cage of simple construction, complete with a roof to keep competitors from climbing out should things get too intense for them. The Mountain Lions have announced only two rules: There are no weapons allowed and the first person to be knocked out cold loses. The prospect of gambling, even if it is only for minor supplies, drew quite a crowd. There were a lot of drifters there and faces unknown to many of the tribes.

Since a few hours before dusk people have been arriving steadily by walking, the River Runners, or the Mountain Lions’ own horse caravan. When the sun finally sets there is quite a crowd and the warehouse has become noisy with anticipation. The rumor going around was that two drifters the Mountain Lions had personally trained were going to fight first, then things would work on a voluntary basis. Betting was encouraged by all those involved.

One of the Mountain Lions came over a loudspeaker they had managed to rig up and told everyone to be quiet. He explained the two rules, encouraged betting and welcomed everyone that had showed up. The two drifters were finally brought out from the tents that were set up just outside the warehouse. They were naked from the waste up and only one of them had a pair of cotton, fingerless gloves on their hands.

The two boys, who couldn’t have been older than 18 were then let into the cage and the gate locked behind them. At the Mountain Lion announcer’s whim he called on the fight to start and the whole warehouse seemed to erupt with sound as people placed their bets and called to the fighters who began to circle each other nervously.