The Field

Who: Cross and Helena
When: evening, day 16, after the rain begins
Where: the rock ledge
What: an end to anger
Rating: PG

( she knew that he had her well-being at heart )

Who: Ryan and Thorne
When: day 16, night
Where: Thorne's hammock
What: rain and darkness
Rating: PG (boy snuggles, innuendo)

Ryan had had a disconcerting day, to say the least. He was usually so mellow that sometimes people had to poke him to make sure he was alive, and it was rare for him to argue with anyone. Usually that only happened when he was forced to defend himself for whatever the reason, like with Bazzer the other day. But suddenly he'd gotten into an actual fistfight with a guy, over nothing. It seemed unreal when he thought about it.

He'd spent most of the day by himself after that, first dragging himself off into the woods and finding a section of stream in which to wash his face; he'd splashed water over his skin for quite a while, hoping it would help the vicious headache that pounded at his temples and the sharp, stabbing pains in his teeth. He'd been really uneasy once he discovered that his vision seemed dimmer. It was his worst nightmare to lose the little bit of vision he had left. Ryan had found a place to curl up and rest his eyes for a while, trying to be as still as possible, and finally during the late afternoon the headache had subsided enough for him to discover that his vision wasn't really any worse. It must have been the effect of... whatever the hell had happened to him and Rook out there in the field.

( stay here with me? )

Time: Day 16, afternoon
Place: in the forest, then back at camp
Cast: Payne, Sophie and...whomever wanders in!
Payne hunts and kills, and it isn't pretty. Some graphic imagery and later, strife.

( do or die, what's done is done. true beauty lies on the blue horizon )

Who: Kenneth and
Where: Near camp
When: Early morning
What: Testing his cart
Rating: Depends

Kenneth was up far before dawn as he usually was. The finding of the rest of his lost survival gear had sped up his cart idea by allowing him to use the finger saw to cut down some of the smaller climber trees. By pounding them a little flatter, he was able to make beds. The wheels were harder, but layering vines around a round trunk until they dried and coating them with resin and letting that dry again, he was able to get round wheels. Well, round enough at any rate. A smaller round rock approximately the same size as the "axle" he'd found gave him the interior of the wheels and then more climber vines made the spokes.


Now then...everything was done and he just had to put it together. Hopefully, he and Alex could use the cart to collect the bodies of the girls that had gone missing so they could give them a proper burial.

He put the flattened beds onto the axels and attached it with the braided grass that Thorne and some of the others had made then coated it with resin to hold better. Next he got the wheels on then "locked" them onto the axels with more grass cord and coated that with resin. Sides, he was still going to have to work on, but for now they'd just have to tie things to the carts. Finally, he attached the braided grass rope that would serve as the "harness" so people could pull the carts along.

A good two hours later he stood back to survey his work. When he heard footsteps, he called back without looking, "Think it'll work?"

Who: Cross and Helena
When: morning
Where: Grazer Island
What: into every life some hot and potentially radioactive space rocks must fall
Rating: G

( No Way We're Huggin' It Out )

Who: Payne and Clay
When: Day 16, pre-dawn
Where: Payne's hammock in the main Climber tree
What: watching the light show
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Cursing; partial nudity; dysfunctional displays of affection/violence; the usual.
Status: in progress

( will there be any stars, any stars in my crown? )

WHO: Milo & Payne
WHERE: Just inside the forest near the field.
WHEN: Day 16; Late-morning.
WHAT: Hungry/Headache.
STATUS: Complete.

( Conforming on a Monday. Too often and too cold. But you aren't even listening, because you are just too old to feel an earthquake or too cool to even care. But you aren't even listening, so why should I? )

Who: Quinn and Open
What: Disecting fallen pesks for food.
Where: Beside the campfire
When: Morning time.
Rating: G?

Maybe it had been a rather grisly experiment but Quinn was pissed off at life enough to take apart the dead pesks left by the fire. He had the borrowed pocket knife out and the bucket, a flat rock set across his lap and a scowl on his face. When no one was around to blather on or bug him, he was attempting to channel his high school biology teacher and the lab where they had disected frogs. These guys were about the same size as those big old amphibians, just arranged a little bit differently. As he sheered tiny bits of meat off he dropped them in the bucket and figured he could make some sort of soup. Pesk soup. It was best not to think about it too closely.

Like always, he'd slept miserably and the shadows under his eyes had long replaced the bruising. Even though his injuries were getting better and better each day, there was a black mood creeping in. Prolonged lack of sleep was making him feel run down and today was absolutely no different. The weird behaviour of the pesks got on his nerves. The fact that no one else was looking to salvage the meat from the little squirrel-sized animals also pissed him off. In short, he was brooding.

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.

Who: Jasper
Where:  The Desert
When:  Morning
Rating:  G

When the sun came up fully, Jasper was still exploring the canyon, because it was so shocking.  A cross between a religious place and a massacre, almost.  There wasn't any bodies, but the canyon twisted, and turned, and in some places got terribly narrow and sometimes so wide six or seven people would walk with their arms stretched out and not touch fingertips.  But that wasn't the amazing part.  It was the names.

The night is much like any other - full of laughers. However, the night sky, where it can be seen, is quite a night time display! The stars, always intensely vivid, don't seem to hold still tonight. A meteor shower lights up the land and a few of these chunks of rock and mineral and ice make it through the atmosphere to strike the land with the sound splintering trees, muted thuds and shrieking predators. It's over well before dawn, a few steaming craters in the field. The little lumps in the bottom of the craters are far too hot to get anywhere near.

As if this wasn't enough to talk about! By early light it's obvious that the pesks are not ok. The small tree living creatures are agitated, their normal curious chitter replaces with a squeal of rage. They charge each other and knock each other out of the trees. Many of whom fall to their deaths as they are unable to recover fast enough from the blows to glide to the earth.

By mid-morning everyone near any of these meteor strikes begins to notice a headache throbbing behind their eyes. Before long their teeth are aching painfully and they're feeling sensitive to light and sound. People start to feel irritable and maybe even a few fights break out. Whatever it is, it isn't unlike the pesks who just can't seem to stand the sight of each other.

This continues on until the evening when the clouds roll in and a modest downfall of rain begins. The many woven and resin-treated mats have been tied up in the tree in such a way that it keeps the bulk of the rain off of the hammocks so no one is sleeping in wet beds tonight. The wind isn't too bad either. With the damp, the headache seems to ease. Mud and water wash into the craters and cover up the offending space junk. Peace returns to the tree, but was there any irrevocable damage done to relationships during the day?

( Mod Notes - Please Read )