The Field

Who: Cross and Helena
When: Late afternoon
Where: A part of the beach where lots of lake seaweed grows
What: They make a discovery while preparing a clam bake.
Status: Incomplete

Helena had a high fire stoked on the beach and a wide basin of clams already standing by for the hot stones and the clam bake. She was tired of grazer for the time being and had decided to quit being lazy and see about doing something useful with the day. She wasn't entirely sure where her honey had run off to, as she was still dreamily thinking of him since the day before. She amused herself as she worked by thoughts that he was avoiding her so that he wouldn't have to perform any more. Or that he felt guilty about the lack of work getting done the past few days.

( what is it? )

Who: Cross and Rowan
When: morning
Where: at the spring
Status: in progress

Breakfast had been the oddest meal Cross could recall since he'd arrived here about a month ago. People had been either blushy and quiet or almost giddy and babbling to break the air of nervous unease that had surrounded the circle. He felt fortunate that he hadn't slept with anyone besides Helena, and there was nothing wrong with that as far as he was concerned. They might not speak of it in concrete terms, but they were in a relationship. Thus, as much sex as they felt capable of should be perfectly acceptable.

He headed off to the spring with his water bottle, pleased that he felt much more normal today. Most of the pollen seemed to have blown away during the night, and the air was cooler. It was very pleasant, he thought as he ambled along, rounding the curve on the path that would take him to the spring and lookout tower.

( TBC )

Who: Helena and Cross
Where: Their lean-to
When: Morning time
What: Waking up in the grips of pollen
Rating: NC17

( too hot for clothes )

Who: Cross and Helena
When: night
Where: by the fire

It had been an extremely long day, but Cross was satisfied with the work they'd gotten done. Once the logging crew had returned to the island, he'd eaten and washed up, and it was full dark by the time he ambled back to the fire just outside the lean-tos. He picked out Helena from amidst the other shapes that huddled in the dimness and lowered himself down to sit beside her, shaking out the damp rag in his hand to show her. "I think it's done," he said of the shirt he'd been wearing when he'd arrived here. "S'there enough cloth left to use for anything?"

Helena had marked his arrival as she always did. She was used to Cross taking his time coming back from a day of labor. He was so fastidiously clean despite their surroundings but she liked that about him. Without the benefit of hot water and deodorant he almost always smelled of the cucumbery freshness from the soap pods. Beneath that, though, was the pleasant musk of his own skin. Damp or not, she graduated toward him and took the shirt from him. "Hmm, don't know," she said honestly. "The girls can always use rags though, if you're willing to give it up." She arched a brow at him. Coping with the natural course of femininity wasn't pleasant or something they even enjoyed discussing in this place. She'd only suffered with it once so far but she was due again in a little more than a week. No hot baths or water bottles, muscle relaxers or the most basic in hygiene products had left her testy and miserable. She supposed it would just become something they got used to. "And I'll make you something to replace it." She fingered the green thread she was currently working with. They were a tall pair of socks. She had delivered a similar pair to Rowan along with her poncho earlier that day. She was hoping to have the above-the-knee socks finished for Analiese and Coop by the next evening.

It took Cross a few seconds to figure out what Helena was talking about when she said the girls could use rags, but then it clicked and he nodded. "I can't really use it for anything," he pointed out. It wasn't something he'd really thought about, but now that she'd mentioned it, he could see how not having the most basic of supplies could be an issue. The shirt was too full of holes and rents and too stained for anyone to want to wear it again, so it might as well go to good use. He'd found that most of the time he went around without it, anyway. "Wonder how long it'd take to make a shirt that'd fit me?" he mused. Helena was getting quite fast at knitting by now. He sighed, letting his shoulders relax; he'd felt tense as metal wire all day long. "How you feelin'?" he wanted to know, glancing over at her again.

( Favourite Company At The End Of The Day )

Who: Cross and Helena
When: evening
Where: at the edge of the stream near camp, then their lean-to

The weather had been incredible today, breezy and warm, and Cross had taken full advantage of it. He'd spent the majority of his day repairing their lean-to, mudding the second wall and then moving on to work on the others. He'd started a frame for another of the small structures in the late afternoon, getting as much accomplished as he could before it was time to go and wash up before dinner. He'd made quick work of it despite how nice the cool water had felt on his sunburned neck and shoulders and then made his way back to camp to partake in the seafood stew and grazer jerky that someone-- possibly Sophie-- had prepared.

Now he was washing the plate he'd used; it was one of a set that Ryan had made, and it was actually a cross between a plate and a bowl, with the edges curved up so liquids would not readily pour off of it. He was using sand to clean its surface, only halfway listening to the faint sounds from camp behind him. Once he'd finished with the sand, he'd rinse it in the lake. His close-cropped head was bent as he concentrated on his task; Helena had made good on her promise to trim his hair with the sharply-honed blade of his knife, and he was pleased with the job she'd done.

Helena came down to the water with her own plate. So far everyone had been really good about cleaning what they used and returning the clean dishes to the communal stack next to the fire. She had a lot of things to be grateful for and the small price of still having to do with dishes, well, it was a small thing to accept, given how far pottery had advanced their little tribe. Having a plate to eat off of was like a little slice of home, even if the food didn't quite resemble a hamburger. Dinner had been incredibly satisfying after the day she'd had and she was looking forward to moving their now-dry belongings back into the lean-to and settling down to do a bit of knitting before bed.

( Routine Even In The Unroutine )

Who: Delilah and Cross
When: late morning
Where: between camp and the spring
Rating: tbd

Delilah was in the mood to walk, and at least the weather was cooperating. By the time she'd gotten up and eaten something, it was almost hot out, and shiny like a new penny. She wanted some time away, some time to ... bathe and think, probably. Quinn was dead, and Rook seemed to be gone. Taken off with that Russian girl and a couple of others. Which was disappointing and a little chest-achey. This place was difficult enough without people being temporary in it. Which was a preference that she knew was unrealistic, but ... there it was anyway.

She'd taken her pillow out of the case and tucked it somewhere that seemed dry enough, then put the collection of sticks and stones she'd collected into the cloth sack. She was slowly building a collection of runes, though none of them had anything written on them yet. She was attempting to memorize them from shape and coloring. Perhaps she'd find more at the spring ...

Delilah walked with her head down, watching the ground pass under her sunburned bare legs and red sneakers she'd been lucky enough to find, humming softly to herself, head very far away.

Who: Aaron, Open to one more! (Posting Order: Cross, Angelica, Aaron)
Where: The beach in front of camp
When: Early Afternoon
What: Archery lessons to anyone who wants them.

Arlo was no teacher, that was plain to see. He was downright unpleasant to be around for more than thirty seconds. That is, unless you were a young girl. Aaron had butted heads with him a time or two but one thing they did both agree on was that Aaron was the more experienced archer. Arlo had thusly given him four of the composite bows he'd made and a thick bundle of arrows.

After speaking with Bazzer about the state of their skins, furs and needs in that respect, he'd come back to camp with a bit of determination. He was going to get the hang of these hand made bows and arrows. He was going to learn to hunt with them. So he'd bundled up some of the fallen thatching scattered around camp and tied them all into a thick bale that he could use as the target. There was nothing like paint to put a bullseye on it so they'd just have to eyeball it. After setting it on a boulder on the beach, he paced away from the target and set the bows down, sticking the arrows point down into the sand.

It was still drizzling from time to time but for now the wind was down, which helped. Trying to calculate the angles when accounting for wind was never the easiest thing. It took practice and time, and when your tools were not exact from arrow to arrow, that made it even harder. Before long, he felt he'd drawn a bit of an intermittent crowd. Stopping to wipe a bit of sweat off of his brow, he turned to look at the watchers. "Anyone want to learn?" he asked, "I can probably teach you."

Who: Helena and Cross, plus Olivia and Meredith (NPCs)
When: Just before dawn
Where: Their lean-to
What: Experiencing the storm

( lightning, hail & tornadoes )

Who: Helena and Cross
When: late afternoon
Where: the lean-tos to start
What: working, and then bathing
Rating: NSFW (sexual content)

The cool, cloudy day was perfect for working on the lean-tos. Cross, who was filthy from his stint at gravedigging and then helping to fill the grave back in, had scraped off just enough of the dirt that had coated his arms and hands so that he wouldn't get it on everything he touched. He was only going to do more work that would get him sweaty and dirty, so he didn't see the need to clean up yet. That could come later, once he'd raised blisters on his hands and worked his muscles to quivering exhaustion. He couldn't have articulated why, but it felt important to be too tired to think by the end of the day.

Cross was working on a wall for one side of their lean-to, using some of the thin branches he'd brought back the previous day. To start with, he planned to tie them together at the top and bottom with some of the tough cord the blind kid, Ryan, had been braiding together in between his pottery attempts. Once he had a rough semblance of a wall, he would figure out how to weatherproof it a bit; climber resin would most likely be the best option. Even mud would probably serve, he thought. He worked fast, ignoring everything around him as he knotted cord expertly. Some of the branches were too short, some too tall, but nonetheless he thought they would serve their purpose.

Helena had flitted around the camp, trying to stay out of Cross's way since his face had clearly said he didn't want to put up with any fussing or pleasantries that day, as well as attempting to be useful. A couple of the other guys who were working on lean-tos had noted Cross's method for building the walls and were busy at it. He'd mentioned the idea of filling the chinks in the wall with a paste of some kind and Helena had disappeared with one of Ryan's largest clay bowls. She'd scavenged some of the clay-like mud and mixed it with a bit of water to soften it and added some dried straw and sand. The finished product wasn't exactly like the stuff the ancient Egyptians had made bricks out of but she thought it might do well enough. Once it dried (if it dried) they could treat both sides with climber resin. Returning to the build site, she set the heavy bowl down out of the way and armed some sweat off of her brow. "It looks good," she told him, a little breathless.

( Without Saying A Word )

Who: Alex & OPEN
When: Day 25, morning
What: Graveside funeral for Quinn
Where: at the newly created cemetery

( Requiéscat in pace )

Who: Helena and Cross
What: Winding down toward bed
When: Well after dark and the last meal
Where: At the campfire, where their bedroll is
Rating: PG for kissing.

( Kisses Sure Do Tell A Large Part Of The Story )

Who: Cross
When: early morning through the afternoon
Where: across the lake and to the south
What: gathering and finding
Rating: G

( repetitive work )

Who: Helena and Cross
What: A little bit of medicine administered
When: Early evening, before dinner
Where: The edge of camp

Helena was seated outside of the lean-to where Jasper was snoring gently in her pile of blankets. So far she hadn't shown any symptoms of the illness that was floating around camp but that still didn't seem to stop her from claiming the day for recovery. No one held it against her. Helena herself was feeling worse and worse as the day wore on and she was sure she was coming down with it now. Still, she was helping Thorne by inventorying all of the herbs that several groups had managed to locate, tying them in bundles to be seen to at a later date. she was happy to see that his notebook was very useful here. Whoever its author had been, she or he must have lived in this region at least for a little while.

Separating the greasy feeling neoheather from the mushy scoops of pink lake algae and the fat bulbs from the burnbutter plant, she was practically in a daze, nearly unaware of any movement within the camp.

( Read more... )

Who: Cross and Helena
When: late night
Where: camp, then just past the north rise

( Read more... )

Who: Jasper, the npc babies, Kenneth, and then open to everyone!
Where: The lake
What: Badness
Rating: Oh, let's say somewhere between PG and R for profanity

Jasper had made a severe error. One she hadn't made in, oh, years and she was definitely regretting it now because this could very possibly cost three people their lives - her's included. But she wasn't used to being weighed down by two children and a bunch of things left at the prime camp; she was used to running for herself, with the things she was used to running with. But right now she was going much slower than she'd thought she'd been, there was a large tract of land that didn't have any trees, just open field, and on the other end of said tract of land was the lake. It was also sunset. Jasper could hear the laughers in the distance, but she knew how fast those could run and if she made it to the lake it would be by the skin of her teeth, and there were still the shallows that the laughers would undoubtedly be able to get through before it became too deep for them.

( Laughers Are Not Friendly )

Who: Helena and Cross
Where: On the island
When: Just about dark
What: Is that the tribe we hear in the distance?
Rating: PG

( a good defense is still a good offense )

Who: Cross and Helena
Where: on the island
When: late afternoon
What: Preparing the first meal of the day.

( We Walk On Them )

Who: Cross and Helena
Where: the spindle trees, half a day's walk from Grazer Island
When: evening, shortly before dark
What: preparing to settle in for the night
Rating: PG

( the dying light washed everything around it in rose and orange, and it nearly stole his breath )

Who: Helena and Cross
Where: The Grazer Island Camp
When: Sometime as the sun was rising
What: Waking up, making plans
Rating: PG

( Nearly Idyllic )

Who: Helena and Cross
Where: Grazer Island
What: Now that they have chosen a place, time to draw up a plan of attack.
When: Noonish, Day 17
Rating: PG for wet boys in their undies? *coughs*

( So Few Tools )