The Field

Who: Rook and Delilah
When: night
Where: a bit away from the campfire
Rating: PG

As the day had progressed, Delilah hadn't really improved. She hadn't done much, trying to let her body rest, but it was hard when doing that made her feel so useless. She'd held onto Helena's blanket for as long as she felt all right doing so, then had left it neatly folded where she'd picked it up from. The other woman herself didn't sound so good at the meeting they had. She'd stuck close to the fire as much as possible, hardly awake and aware of anything except how crappy she felt.

Then night had fallen, and the temperature dropped even more. She'd tried laying on the ground, and that just ... no, that wasn't going to work. Fever-achey, Delilah got up and started to wander among the people settling in for the night, until she saw a familiar head poking out from under a blanket. Arms crossed over her stomach, goosebumps all over her bare legs, Delilah stopped and bent down a bit. "Rook?" she said quietly.

Apparently, Rook was going to be out of commission for a while. Sleep tugged at him, but his mind was running at a hundred miles an hour. What did this new leadership mean? There was something innately wrong with this whole situation and it made him sick to his stomach... or it could just be the grazer kebab rising from the ashes like a phoenix and determined to gain revenge for itself.

( You're freezing. )

Who: Rook & [Open]
When: Mid-afternoon
Where: Grazer Island
What: Building lean-tos
Rating: TBD


Rook knew something wasn't right. He'd been sick all morning, throwing up fluids and stomach acid the moment he had shot awake in a cold sweat. Lugging back disc trees in the freezing cold had been a bad idea, and it was evident he was only just paying for the consequences. Still, he forced himself awake, going back to the large pile of wood he had managed to gather in two days. So far it had been useful for avoiding people, for living in his own world. Now it was time to get to work.

Braiding grass through his dazed, semi-conscious state, Rook felt uncomfortably warm despite the cold breeze gusting through camp. His boxers and the bedding that he had wrapped himself in were soaked in his own sweat, and his muscles ached painfully in time to the throbbing of his head. His hands shook and shivered as he tightened each knot. It was a struggle to focus, to remember what he was trying to do, and at times he stopped without realizing. Once he had a decent amount of the rope, he forced himself to his feet. He tore at the trunk of the tree, pulling it apart into long, flexible sticks. Slowly, the frame of the lean-to came into existence as he dug a hole for the base, secured the stick into the ground and bound up the top ends with the rope to form a sort of dome-shape.

( By mid-afternoon... )

Who: Rook
Where: Grazer Island
When: Early, early morning.
What: Melancholy Rook doesn't want to talk and so he goes hunting for wood.
Rating: PG for bad, bad thoughts

( you make it real for me, and now that you're gone I just can't see. )

Who: Rook & Helena
Where: Grazer island
When: Early morning
Rating: PG

Who: Clay and Payne and Rook and Milo
Where: heading northeast out of camp
When: mid-morning
What: Leaving, a day early. Because Kenneth is not the boss of them.
Rating: safe to assume it will hit R sooner rather than later
Warnings: Assume that many will be necessary. Check back often, folks!

( ''I'm just a poor, wayfarin' stranger; travelling through this world of woe...'' )

Who: Delilah and Rook and Payne
When: in the morning
Where: someplace she'd -never- thought she'd wake up, aka the field
What: arriving
Rating: probably PG for some profanity

( Blame it on the satellite that brings me home. )

Who: Open to any and all in camp.
Where: Not smack in the middle of camp, but close enough to be noticeable.
When: Mid-afternoon.
What: Tempers flare. Yeah, we know the meteors were yesterday, but Payne and Clay fight every day.
Rating: TBD (It's already R because, um. Payne and Clay.)
Warnings: Language, violence, domestic abuse, tattooing.

( ''...you wish!'' )

Who: Ryan and Rook
When: mid-morning, day 16
Where: the field
What: ...the hell was that?
Rating: PG-13 (language, violence)
Status: Complete

It had been a bad night for sleep in the climber trees, despite the relative comfort of the hammocks. Ryan's sleeping bag and pillow, recently washed, were as comfortable as they'd ever been. However, between the odd light show, the thuds and crashes not far away and then the spectacle of every pesk chittering, shrieking and enacting the best of the WWF all of a sudden, sleep had been very sketchy and he was left with heavy, gritty eyelids and a mild case of crankiness.

The little creatures had been sort of amusing fighting... up until quite a few of them had plummeted to the ground. He'd stepped on tiny pesk bodies three times thus far, and he was again glad that he had shoes. Shit, maybe they should try to cook them, he thought, although there couldn't be much meat to them. He'd gathered up any he found and put them next to the fire just in case anyone wanted to try it.

Once he'd washed his face and gotten a drink from the stream, he'd made his way back through the forest, past the climber trees and out to the field to find out what exactly had caused the horrendous noises they'd all heard in the wee hours. He couldn't be the only one who'd be checking it out; there was no way anyone in camp could have missed it.

Time: Late afternoon/evening, Day 15
Place: The western edge of the forest
Cast: Rook and Payne
Rook manages to ruin Payne's kill and get himself skewered, they eventually head back to camp.
R for all the good stuff

( what's the matter baby, you don't like the sighs, the cries inside? )

Who: Rook & Payne
What: Cleaning. Kind of.
When: Early, early morning on Day 14
Where: One of the bathing pools.

Warnings: R - Nakedness, kissing, touching and general implied-goodness.


( I could get used to this. )

Who: Rook and Sophie
Where: Camp
What: Having some bonding time.
When: Late afternoon, Day13
Rating: G

( 'cause being alone just sucks. )

Who: Rook and Helena
Where: At the camp tree
What: First encounters
When: Around noon
Rating: G


( and both of them are becoming a little heavy )

Who: Cross and Rook
Where: the field
When: mid-morning, day 13
What: gathering the remnants
Rating: PG
Status: complete

( don't move and they won't find you )

Who: Everyone
Where: Around the campfire
What: Catching Up and Discussing The Future
When: Sunset
Rating: G to PG, depending on how the language goes.

Helena returned to her log by the fire and settled down next to the pouch of yarnballs, taking them up once again. She worked at pulling them apart as people began to drift back in to the camp, pausing to breath in the smoking grazer meat and pop boiled pesk eggs into their mouths. Some of them chewed strands of sweetgrind or braided fieldgrass as they chattered and caught up. Once everyone had arrived, she stood up and cleared her throat. "I just wanted to say a few things before we pack up for the night," she said over the din.

"Firstly, welcome back Thorne, Cross, Alex, Kenneth and Jasper. We're really glad to have you back and it's nice to see that you found a few things on your adventure. The grazer hide and meat is especially welcome." She flashed a smile around at the more tanned and sunburned faces in the circle.

"Secondly, I want to pass on a bit of bad news before you hear it from others. We lost four women while you were gone." She cleared her throat, clearly upset by this happening and with good reason. No one had voted Helena as the leader of the group, it had just happened. She still felt responsible and she should, if she were actually the leader. "There's been no sign of Annie, Lauren, Nancy and Jeri."

"Lastly," and here her gaze lingered on Bazzer. He looked...not like himself. She wondered what was eating the younger man. Still, she moved on. "Bazzer and I were discussing the tribe's prospects the other day and I said I would bring up an option to the whole of the group when we were all together again." She clasped her hands infront of herself and tried to organize her pro opinion in order to deliver it well. "Plenty of small tribal societies living without large advancements in technology, much like we are, survived for generations as nomadic peoples." She felt more than heard a hum move around the circle. "I believe that becoming nomadic might be a good answer for us. We're stripping the food supply here nearly bare. We don't know how the weather might change here over the next few months as well. Also, how can we know if there is no city in this world if we don't forge farther out than we can do in a day's run? I think it is safer for the group as a whole if we travel together, look out for each other and move forward rather than wait around here for something to happen." That said, she waited for the questions and opinions of the others. "What do you think?"

Who: Rook, Clay and Sophie
Where: In the Field
When: Crack of dawn on Day Twelve
What: Rook is confused, half naked and covered in grass.
Rating: PG-13 for language


( what sort of delusional nightmare is this? )