The Field

Who: Sophie and Baz
What: Sophie likes books, Baz likes books. They like books?
When: Morningish Day 19
Where: Around the camp
Rated:PG Sophie's a sweetie

( It disappeared when he did....where was it....he had to have it! )

Who: Aaron
When: Just after nightfall
Where: The tree, his hammock
What: Rotten luck, or is it?
Rating: PG for swearing.

Aaron dragged himself up the curved trunk of the climber tree. He had to climb upward and back again, shuffle around and crane his neck but eventually he remembered where his bed was. He was still in shock, no doubt about that, but he was functioning at least. He'd managed to harvest a metric ton of those yarnballs. At least, that's what it seemed like. Then he'd helped to load up the carts and munched on a thoroughly boring meal of the strange pink lemonade flavored melon. His stomach was a bit unsettled from eating so much of the fruit's sweet pulp. Meat was scarce in the group, but the melons were plentiful. After taking care of his nightly business he'd attempted to find his sleeping bag. The temperature was already dropping and more than anything, he just wanted to climb into his sleeping bag hammock and get some rest. Everyone was talking about this long walk they'd have to take the next day.

He'd finally found his branch and sat down with his back to the trunk to unlace his boots. Once he got them off, he tied them securely to a branch much like he'd seen some others do who had theluxury of footwear. Since the previous night had been so chilly, Aaron decided to keep his coat on for now. It wouldn't be the most comfortable sleep but he was counting on exhaustion to take care of any resistance. Easing himself down the branch he reached for the edge of his hammock and pulled it toward himself. All of a sudden from the deeper shadows in the pit of his hammock there came a small engine rumble that had a very distinct warning sound to it.

( Ain't That A Kick In The Nuts? )

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: 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: Quinn and Delilah
What: Packing up the carts
When: Afternoon time, day 19
Where: Under the climber tree
Rating: Tbd

With a grunt, Quinn hefted the braidgrass basket full of heavy milk melons up off the ground. Long unused muscles in his chest and back groaned in protest but he just sent a mental curse their way. He wrestled the basket up onto the bed of the cart and heaved a sigh. The baskets were a stroke of genius on Rowan's part, he had to admit. They were flexible in their shape but sturdy because she'd treated them with climber resin. They conformed to what they contained and fit around each other in the back of the cart just like a tetris game. It was important, considering how many melons they had harvested. It was true that there were a lot of grazers where they were going but as far as they knew, that was it. Sure, there was a whole mess of the sweetgrind game but he still felt like actual bread was a lot of work away from being a reality. He had no idea how to go from wheat swaying with the wind to flour. He considered that to be a concern for someone more domestic than himself.

Then again, what use had he really been? Sure, he could talk deadfall traps with Clay but they had not had any time to put them into effect. He didn't have any weapons other than the little blade he used for carving and so far his only real contribution had been to locate and warn of a deadly threat and to carve a chess set. He'd stashed the chess board and pouch of pieces at the back of the cart where it wouldn't be left behind.

With that on his mind he gave up on loading the melons for the time being and wandered over to the root where he had stashed his own split melon. He'd already slurped the citrusy tasting juice out of the coconut-like fruit, deciding that it did taste a lot like pink lemonade. The flesh did as well but he had saved that for his break, which he decided should be now. He sat in the shade, scraping the meat out of the inside of the hard shell with his fingernails and watched people coming and going. As they finished coils of grassbraid rope or pulled the grassmats down out of the trees they stacked them next to the cart. Mostly people were just dropping off their harvests or projects today, not their personal belongings. Theft wasn't really a concern here but the small bits of home that some people had were too important to risk.

Lost in his own head, he watched the stacked cages of pesks that people had caught. The inquisitive nature of the little half-lizard, half squirrel creatures had made them fairly easy to catch but they seemed pretty upset to be caged on the ground now. They tumbled over each other and rattled their bars, desperately trying to find a space wide enough for them to squeeze through. He was sorry they had to take them and he really hoped they would adjust to captivity. If they could survive outside of the forest, their eggs would continue to be a vital part of the human diet here. Quinn, himself, loved those eggs once they were boiled. So crunchy. They reminded him of eggy M&Ms.

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: Aaron and open to Jeannie
Where: The camp tree
When: Soon after all of the noise stops in the morning.
What: Dunno yet!
Rating: Maybe PG for language?

Aaron was exhausted by the time he had to get over his trembling fear and climb out of the tree in the morning. The strange violent laughter had refused to be muffled by his thin pillow or even his hands clapped over his ears. He didn't think he'd so much as slept a wink all night. Now that it was light out and quiet, he thought he'd go find a nice and peaceful bush to throw up in. To say that he was coping well with his arrival in this place was a little less than truthful. Aaron wasn't sure, but he thought he might be in some kind of low level shock. Walking wounded, maybe? Rowan hadn't been wrong though. His first night in the tree had convinced him of the alien nature of this place.

He was aware of other people climbing down the tree to survey the damage left by the lust-crazed laughers the night before. Thick gouges in the trees, puddles of blood and small hunks of flesh lay scattered intermittently around the flat forest floor under the canopy of the Climber tree. He barely noticed as he splashed through one such puddle on his way to a nearby stand of bushes. He relieved himself before making his way to the stream. After rinsing his mouth out and splashing water over his face he held very still as he observed a plump unfish propelling itself slowly along with the current. He'd never seen a creature like that before and his stunned mind couldn't stamp out his scientific interest. He watched it until it disappeared downstream. Once it was gone he half whispered a desperate and amused laugh. It was real. All of this was really happening.

Who: Angelica and Arlo
What: Arlo's back and Angelica wants her damn gun!
When: Afternoonish Day 19
Where: Around the camp
Rated: R there's gunna be some fighting ahead.

( It disappeared when he did....where was it....he had to have it! )

Who: Sophie and Arlo
What: Arlo is back and Sophie is glad.
When: Afternoonish Day 19
Where: Around the camp
Rated: PG-13 at least with Arlo

( A dad is universal, they're not a dad because they fathered a child, they're a dad because they took responsibility and cared. )

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 )

Another chilly night of wild Laugher antics bathes the forest in blood once again. With temperatures dipping as low as 14C (57F) in the forest and 12C (53F) at the island, people must be beginning to wonder if a serious change in the seasons is about to occur. It doesn't help that the sun stays hidden for most of the day, with a damp and muffled feeling on the ground. It breaks through and bathes the land in it's fierce white light just as it's gaining momentum (or so it seems) on it's downward arc.

Kenneth made a point of getting everyone's attention to announce that Helena and Cross had not returned in the time that he'd expected them to. Since his carts were completed and functional he felt that it was time to pack up and head northeast to the island on their own. His announcement made it perfectly clear that he was going, whether everyone was with him or not. He left it up to everyone to decide if they would be coming or staying. If they are coming along though, he encourages everyone to harvest as much of the useful items that they can - yarnball fruit, ying yang beans stored in water in one of Ryan's successful clay pots, milk melons, cages of pesks, heaps of fragrant bloodfruit, shocklate, Bazzer's skins and pelts, yards of grassrope and clay jars of resin, make one last round to look for found items in pesk nests and grassmats as well as coils of climber vines with the hope that they'll still be pliable by the time they get where they are going. Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch, people. It's time to be making ready to leave.

( Mod Notes )