Devil's Tower

Who: Windchaser and Wren
Where: Kitchens
When: Week 23 Wednesday evening
Why: Wind needs to squee

Windchaser had pretty much stalked Wren to the kitchens when she returned from being with Black Cat. She'd missed her best friend so much over the last few weeks apart from her rescue from Jed and their subsequent rather heavy drunk conversation at the Independence Day party, and right now she wanted to share how happy she was rather than as miserable as she'd been over the last months.

A trip to Honey's had provided her with a decent, though fairly spiky white wine and a less classy hit of moonshine and weed from Lucy had set them up for a decent giggly girly evening. They'd never been backwards about talking about anything and everything and Windchaser finally had something current to contribute. She was happy, really happy and she wanted to share that with Wren.

Who: Blackcat & Wren
Where: The Woods by the trading post
When: Monday evening and throughout most of the night!
Why: They just find eachother insatiable
Rating: NC-17

Who: Everyone who wants to attend!
Where: The Trading Post
When: Monday evening and throughout most of the night!
Why: Some people just need a reason to party...
((OOC: Please put your characters name and the names of other characters they are tagging into the subject line of your post. If your character's post is open or a narrative, put that in the subject instead.))

Although the United States no longer exists in the way that the survivors knew it to before, there are still some people who use the national holiday as an excuse for celebration. The holiday has mutated into a kind of celebration of survival and perseverance rather than one of national freedom. This party at the trading post is a kind of organic event where one person dresses up and starts drinking and more people inevitably join them. With the number of drifters, travelers and traders in town this time of year there is no shortage of participants. The nearby Belle Fourche offers a cool relief from the heat of the day and many people can be found swimming there during this party.

The citizens of Sundance aren't as likely to join in the fun, unless they're a River Runner, but a few make it over to the Trading Post for some relief from their chores. With the right goods, or other offers, it's always possible to find some drugs or alcohol. This party tends to be more adult-themed than other parties at the trading post, so prudes usually don't enjoy themselves.

Who: Black Cat and Wren
What: He needs to say something
When: Wednesday Mid-Afternoon
Where: Wren's room
Rating: TBD but it is Cat and Wren

Black Cat walked into Wolf territory, his head low as he concentrated on getting to Wren's room. He had come to a decision while he was tending to Pan. He had nearly done it the last time they were together and he had known it as he had woken first, later. He had watched her as she slept, the light playing over her face. He had pulled her closer and kissed her forehead and settled back to sleep.

Black Cat had been searching for something since he was a kid, and now, in that moment, he felt like he might just have got closer to finding it again. And now he was going to tell her...Honestly...So why, knocking on her door did he feel sick.

WHO - Wren & Blackcat
WHEN - Monday morning
WHAT - Wren goes to pester cat
WHERE - The deck of Cats boat - River Runner Territory
WHY - Wren's under the crazy delusion that she's in love
RATING - NC-17 (crazy kids in love)
STATUS - Closed

Exactly how long it had been Wren was unsure.  Days came and went and the only way of guaging them was the calendar hung on the wall, with a million dates scribbled out and changed to keep track of the years.  Someone needed to raid a calendar shop that was for sure.  That and no one seemed to forget birthdays, confusion was kept at bay as best as it could, loose track of days and it was all the more evident that it really didn't matter anymore.  That's not to say all things didn't matter, just because the world was wiped out didn't mean humans changed.  Humans interacted the same, with just as much animosity and friendliness as before, just because there weren't any papers didn't mean no one heard about murders, if anything it got round quicker, and just because there was no tv didn't mean romance wasn't rife around them.

Wren awoke unusually early that morning.  The sun was barely up, in fact there was nothing but dark blue light around and as she stared out the window her limbs began to grow restless.  She tried to turn over and get back to sleep but her eyes wouldn't rest, her legs complained, begged her to stand up and so eventually she did.  Grabbing a pair of jogging bottoms she was pretty sure were Windchasers she padded to the door, grabbing a jacket, and made her way to the front door.  If she couldn't sleep it didn't mean she had to be alone.

The grass was wet under her feet, the dew making grass stick to the bottom of her trainers but the moisture felt good on her clammy just-out-of-bed skin.  It wasn't a suboncious trip to the river, she knew where she was headed, from the first moment she awoke she knew she was going to go see him.  It was quiet all around, save for the occassional chirps from the birds and beasties in the trees, some awake and waking up others.  She should have been more careful about walking around in the dark but even criminals need to sleep some time.  Five in the morning seemed like a perfectly safe time to be wandering around in jogging bottoms, a t-shirt that should only be worn on a six year old and trainers that made her slip in the mud...if it came to a struggle the most Wren could do was hope the guy didn't like girls who wiggled...and they always liked it when they wiggled.

When she got to the boats she made a bee-line for Cats, climbed the steps quietly and tried the door handle...she expected it to be locked but when she couldn't get in a brief feeling of surprise his her.  "Stupid," she mumbled, "Of course it's locked," she shook her head and crept over to one of the windows.  The shabby net curtains prevented her from seeing clearly but she could see some sort of wrinkled shape in the bed and with a smile she tapped on the window.  Gently at first but forcefully afterwards.  Now she was here he would wake up and let her in, even if he just dragged her to bed to sleep with him again, she could sleep with him around.

Who: Wren, Windchaser, Cat and whoever else
Where: By the river
When: Sunset
Why: Because Wren's birthday requires celebration

Windchaser had decided at fairly short notice that some event was needed to clear the air after the war, and to keep her busy. She needed to do something other than wallow and the best was she’d ever distracted herself was to focus on other people. Wren’s birthday was a perfect reason for both.

Too short notice and probably too personal to take place at the trading post, a quick parlez with Wren’s new ‘he’s not my boyfriend, honestly’ had secured some relatively safe space on the river bank and by bartering and networking like crazy people Windchaser and Black Cat had managed to gather enough stuff and drop enough ‘bring your own bottle and a gift if possible and DO NOT tell Wren’ type hints, to drum up what looked like it might well turn out to be a decent surprise party. It was officially an open to all invite, though if any of the Jackals turned up, they might not prove so welcome. Now it was just a case of hoping no one had blabbed and figuring out how to get Wren down there without her suspecting.

Windchaser really hoped that Wren would like the ornate Chinese kite Windchaser had received while she was still a drifter for treating a broken leg. She loved it and had carried it around with her, but Wren was definitely the best person to hand it on to.

When: Saturday afternoon, when the sun is at its highest
Who: Wren and Cat
What: Wren decides its hot enough for a dip in the river
Where: The Belle Fourche/River Runner territory
Rating: Nc-17

Wren had had enough, she'd become shuddery, jittery and quickly annoyed by the time the war was over and listening top hushed whispers in grave voices did nothing to comfort her.  She'd almost lost the ability to pretend to the children because she was caught between having to pretend and having to act like a grown up.  She could only imagine what people felt like in wars past.  She was scared, she wasn't afraid to admit it, just walking outside she was afraid she may be subject to the same fate as Libby or as the members who wondered out and where then delivered to the door with throats open and pulsing with blood.  It was gruesome and soul destroying.

Rising later than normal on Saturday she sat and realised she could not remember the last time she went for a swim, a keen swimmer, but not pro, Wren loved the feeling of the cool water on her skin.  After eating and wearing out the kids for the afternoon she grabbed a bag, stuffed a towel in it with a few cigarettes and a jumper she found herself walking down the river, nodding to the few runners who guessed she was taking a dip.  Most of the boys didn't mind, so long as she swam past them and flashed them a bit of bare flesh out from under the water.  Stopping under a stooping tree she laid the bag down and shed the shirt she'd been wearing.  Abandoning her bra and shorts afterwards, followed by her socks she dipped a toe in the water and sighed.  She was glad she could do this again, free to swim at her leisure and only worry a fraction of what she used to about people coming out from the trees and jumping in after her...

The water was nice and cold, but the air warmed by the sun meant everytime she popped up from under the surface she wasn't met with frigid air.  After wading out far enough she began to slowly swim up and down, a few times either side of the river, lengths almost, and then she took off towards the boats, swimming behind them slowly, being nosey and looking into some of the windows to see who was about.  Stopping a little to admire a floral box one of the runners had assembled on their boat Wren silently thanked god that the Lions were gone.

***OOC: Be sure to label the subject line of every post with either "Open" or the names of the chars that are involved in a particular thread! This will help eliminate confusion and let you know what threads are up for grabs!***
Who: Anyone and everyone who’s in Sundance at the time!
What: St. Patrick’s Day/Spring party!
Where: The Trading Post
When: Saturday
Why: Because it’s fun!

In the warmer months the Trading Post is almost always busy, full of drifters and members from every tribe who come there to barter, socialize, and a whole host of other things. It’s generally a peaceful place since it exists in neutral territory and everyone who comes there seems to have an understanding of an unspoken truce. The Trading Post is a large park the sits on the banks of the Belle Fourche river. There are picnic tables, a delapidated swingset and monkey bars, old grills, and of course trader stands. There’s also a dock there, but it is understood to belong to the River Runners, as it’s where they are docked most of the year and those wishing to use it usually have to give the RR a token of some kind, or at least ask nicely.

The St. Patrick’s Day/ Spring party was not planned or hosted by any tribe. The whole things seemed to have come about on its own, first as a rumor and then with complete strangers and tribe members alike planning for it. Saturday morning the place was busy with people decorating in any way that they could. The place was strung with streamers of all different colors, some torn and ratty. There were candles, and lanterns strung about and a few different musicians set up throughout the park. By the time the sun set the park was teaming with people, more people than it had seen in years. Between the boos and the open admission there was no telling what the night would hold.

Who: Windchaser and anyone who’s around

When: Tuesday Afternoon
Where: The kitchens of Wolf territory
What: Looking for company to dig herself out of the mood she’s been in for a few days

 

Windchaser knew she hadn’t been any fun for the last few days. After everything with Ryder, she tried to force herself to think of him as Ryder, as a different person, someone who would walk away from her. She ached inside and out, she just hadn’t wanted to see anyone, and had pretty much barricaded herself into the room she’d been given while she dealt with how she felt. She had come close, so close, to turning and running, but these people had been good to take her in, and they needed a medic. She knew she was better than that, and running only ever led to trouble. She didn’t dare go back to the pastures, so when she was simply out of energy to work, she slept.

She also felt guilty, she’d barely eaten and not even bothered to speak to Wren, sneaking out just before dawn to fulfil the minimum of her responsibilities to Cabello. She knew it was wrong of her, that she owed it to herself and to them to get out there. She’d made the decision to stay in Sundance, so now she had to build a life there, pretend she was OK, and let him choose to come to her…If he didn’t, so be it.

Windchaser was starving, she’d tried to keep herself busy making treatments that she knew could be stored and were used most often, but hadn’t really bothered to eat, simply worked and slept, trying to prove her worth, at least partly to herself, and when the time was right, to the Wolves.

Now was the time, standing in that kitchen, to connect with these people who had chosen her and who she had decided to stay with. It was time to accept that and start making this place feel like home.

She wanted to make sure she caught up with Wren soon, the younger woman had made a lot of effort with her the previous week, and she still owed the ghost story in return for her new hair, which she still loved. She ran her fingers through the purple streak and sighed as she grabbed a piece of fruit and plonked onto a stool, beginning to think over her story and making a note to herself that she ought to find a way to catch up with Peri soon too.

She had promises to keep, and she wanted to be known here, as she always had everywhere else, as a person who could be relied on to keep her promises, pull her weight and be there when people needed her.

 

Where: Wolves front room
Why: Wren's feeling daring and decides it's time for Windchaser to meet English.
Who: Wren, Windchaser and English
Rating: PG-13

Wren glanced over at the clock on the wall that had only just recently been fixed, it seemed funny sometimes that in a world where nothing that really relied on time should even exist anymore that they still felt the need to be guided by it.  It ticked quietly showing her the new time of eleven and with a grin Wren finished off her beer, making a mental note to replenish seeing as she was running dangerously low, and crossed towards her friends room.  Wren bounced on her toes a little getting herself ready for a quick cover and duck, and reminding herself that she could get potentially stabbed for what she was about to do but just glancing back at the coffee table that held hair dye, makeup and yet more beer, was enough to get her through the door.

She could hear Windchaser behind her, possibly completely unaware of what was about to go down and she signalled for her to stay put for the mean time.  With a few careful steps, avoiding the creaking floorboards, Wren slowly placed her hand on the bedroom handle and twisted as slowly as she could make herself.  Her heart drummed in her ears.  Her mouth tugged into such a grin that she felt like she was about to burst into hysterics at any moment, she was so scared and excited that her hand was shaking.  This was going to be amazing.

She could see a foot sticking out from under the covers, still, signalling the person was fast asleep.  It was a shame the girl wasn't one for snoring because Wren was so close to laughing she had to stop breathing just to make it towards the bed.  Luckily a hate of decorating had included this girls bedroom so there was nothing to trip over or disturb, nothing to destroy her ninja moment.  When she reached the bed she saw the mop a top of brown hair and exhaled slowly, then ever so slowly she leant over and circled the girls ankle with a cold thin hand.  With one final deep breath Wren put all her strength into her right hand and yanked as hard as she could...

Who: Windchaser and open (but probably Wren)

When: Tuesday morning
Where: Floating around the outskirts of the farm
What: Windchaser feels lost and looks for someone to show her around
Rating: TBD

Windchaser had accepted her transition into the Wolves as a way to maintain her safety. She couldn’t stay with the Twin Feathers, there was no space for her there, they had their medic, but seeing a truly stable tribal life had made her jones for it. She had agreed to stay, but knew always where Cabello, her horse was. That way she could leave whenever she wanted or needed to.

However, the fact remained that she had promised to be the Wolves medic, and while ever they needed her she would stay, even if she tried to kid herself she was still free. Windchaser had decided the second she had opted to stay that if she ever did feel the need to leave again, she’d just find a replacement. Another stumper, as properly qualified medical staff were like hens teeth, and she was too dedicated to what she did to just leave, if they still seemed to need her, and larger communities always needed medics.

Windchaser liked the farm, and what she’d seen of the Wolves. It was busy and noisy and pretty close to civilisation. The air was clearer than the cities and the risks of city centric diseases, which often proved difficult to deal with as they were linked to habits and environment seemed low, which would make her life easier. She could actually settle here, have a workspace and storage, if they let her, but she felt too new to ask for it. She hadn’t proved she was worth such luxuries to them. Trust her to land up somewhere where she hadn’t actually been asked to stay. She wasn’t afraid to rely on her skills, or to work hard to gain the respect she would probably need to get by here, but she still felt more than a little adrift. She had become, by nature, a hardened traveller even before the Virus, and while she welcomed company and a break from crippling saddle sore, she still wasn’t sure how she would cope with so many people, or the familiarity that staying anywhere for long.

So she settled for kidding herself, there was plenty of nearby space for her and Cabello to run if they needed to, and she could go any time she wanted. Really.

There was something else too, that kept her here, not only with the tribe, but in Sundance itself, maybe it was the smell of horses on the wind and the rush of memories that brought, maybe it was the safety of not being alone anymore, maybe it was just plain hope that perhaps she could find herself somewhere to call home again after so long without. Who knew? But for now here she was, and it didn’t look as if she was leaving any time soon, so she’d do well to find out where everything was, and to meet a few people. As soon as she worked up the balls to actually walk into the farm proper, which she would, real soon. Honest.

Who: English and ?
When: Monday Afternoon
Where: The Farm, out on the boarder
What: English being antisocial
Status: Open, In progress
Rating: TBD


There were times that English just couldn't handle the atmosphere of the Farm. There were times she had to get the hell away and be by herself. After a long hard winter English was agitated and tense enough to come really close to just going off on her own and leaving and never looking back.

English always took a camping trip by herself once the weather broke. It was her way of letting off all the agitation of being cooped up for months at a time. There truly was only so much of people, especially Wren, she could take. She adored the girl, much to everyone's shock, but there was only so much English could take of someone trying to lighten her mood. So it was a full week ago that she had set out from the Farm. There was something freeing about being out alone in the wilderness with nothing but what you could carry.

Several rabbits met their death to fill her belly. She cleaned the skins and would bring them back with her. There would be someone that wouldn’t mind a pair of rabbit gloves for next winter or the like. If all else failed it was something to trade at the Trading Post.

Bright and early Monday morning she packed up camp and would start the trek back to the Farm. By early afternoon she could see it in the distance and by mid-afternoon she was planting a hand on the fence to jump it. She was dirty and sore from sleeping on the ground but she could not feel the tension building in her shoulders anymore and her want to maim someone was at an all time low.