modernknight (modernknight) wrote in the_colony, @ 2010-12-16 22:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 23, abigail theien, gregory blair, nathan theien, |* abby/greg/nate |
Week 23: Monday
Characters: Nate, Abby, and Greg
Location: The barn hayloft
Summary: The siblings have a hay fight and Greg is accidentally included.
Rating: G
“Yeah, yeah, I know y’all’er bored."
Muffled Texas twang groaned from the redhead currently knee deep in old barn dirt and dust in the back of the last stall on the left: that which she was preparing for the pregnant cow before the winter got too hard to handle. Relative--since anything below thirty degrees was pushin’ it for Abigail.
The boards had rotted along the foundation, leaving about three inches of space between concrete and dirt, and the rest of the south wall--a problem Abby had been working to fix with spare lumber for the last hour. All while being watched from the large window above her head, where the heifer and her younger sister loomed and snorted steam down at the vet’s head.
The bang bang bang of her hammer had attracted every large animal the group had wrangled into their care, excluding Gustav, of course, who was being his usual aloof self. Abby even had to resort to penning the goats, lest they shred her coat whenever she passed the fence in order to get more nails.
Thank god she was almost done.
After eating, Nate set out to find his sister, for no reason other than the fact he hadn’t seen her that day and while he was certainly more comfortable in this group than he had orginally imagined he would be, he still felt a little uncomfortable if he didn’t check on her every now and then. It wasn’t hard to find her, someone mentioned they had seen her out with the animals (which really just made sense) and the sound of hammering in the otherwise silent day was a give away. He smirked a bit as he entered the barn, walking over the stall she was working on.
“You know, it’s probably a good thing that your goal in life wasn’t to be a carpenter.” He smirked a little, leaning slightly against one of the walls. “Need any help?”
“Like always, your timing sucks,” she responded sardonically, and without looking up from the last board being put in place. Abby had actually known it was Nate by the sound of his footsteps. It came with practice, as well as instinct. “Since the hard work is already done.”
Now, she looked up, flicking escaped red hair from her eyes with a puff of air. She looked at her brother, then directed a glance toward the feed-ledge where a tube of expanding foam was waiting. “Y’all can fill the gaps when I’m done with this one.”
“Actually that means my timing was spot on, as usual.” He shot her a grin and moved forward to grab the tube. He fiddled with it, uncapping it as Abby finished with the last board before he moved in to finish up the job, “And, as usual, I’m stuck fixing the holes in your master pieces. You got anything I can use to wipe off the excess?” He chuckled a little at his own joke before looking over at Abby. She snorted lightly, and shot him a grin.
“Never had any problem with usin’ yer shirt.” Both copper brows shot up over her crooked grin, right before she tossed him the large rag tucked in her back jeans pocket. Abby turned, weaving out of the stall, then started climbing the wooden ladder to the hayloft above. “Watch that heifer, the young one...” She called down behind her. “She’s a biter.”
“I ain’t afraid of no cows.” He called out to his sister, but still eyed the younger one suspiciously as he squirted some of the expanding foam into a gap and wiping it the excess away with the large rag he’d been left. “How long you been out here working on this?”
“An hour, maybe?” Her voice echoed like her boot-steps on the hollow floor above, combined with the scrape of rusted metal tines. The pitchfork she grabbed from the wall, shoved into the nearest hay-bail.
“Heads up.” The hay soared over the loft ledge, and thumped on the dirt floor just outside the stall door.
Despite the warning that was cast at him from above, Nate jumped at the sound of the hay landing so shortly behind him, and gave a rather startled yelp before he realized what it was. He gave a light chuckle.
“That... was a joke by the way.” He said as he finished filling in the gaps, “You know... comic effect or something.” He said, taking a few steps back from the lumber and foam to make sure he’d gotten every major gap in the wood.
“What? You screamin’ like a girl?” Another bail plopped down beside the first, followed by a soundless snow of golden pieces barely heavier than the cold barn air. Abby peeked her head over the ledge, grinning all too easily. “Cause’at was funny.”
“Hey, Listen you, I will have you know that it wasn’t a scream it was... a bark. And a very manly one at that! Don’t make me come up there!” He called to her, tossing the rag at her head as she peeked over the ledge.
Abby’s delighted smirk was the back-drop to that rag as it dropped back toward the barn floor, and her brother’s feet. A note of laughter in her words. “Now y’all know better’n ta threaten a woman with a pitchfork.” Bail number three hopped over the ledge, followed by a scoop of loose hay that rained down on him like golden snow.
“Great, great, this is what I really need.” He rolled his eyes jokingly as he ran a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to removed the tiny bits of hay from his hair. Most of it stuck of course, but it didn’t bother him as much as he knew it would bother Abby.
A few quick movements later, and he was scrambling up the latter to the hay loft where his sister stood. Abby’s eyes went a little wide.
Crap.
“Oooh no, you stay down there!” Despite the playful alarm in her voice, more scoops of loose hay were shoved at the ladder, and in turn, the broader ginger ambling up to her level.
“Oh, so you thought I’d just leave it at an uneven playing field. As if.” He smirked a little bit, shaking his head to knock some of the loose hay out of his hair. Finally making it too the top of the latter, he scooped up a fist full of hay and tossed it at Abby.
“As if?” His sister snorted, snickering. “Y’all from California, now Buffy?” This half squealed as she tried to dodge the jazz-hands of hay flying at her.
“You live with someone like Heidi for as long as I did and see if you don’t start saying it.” He gave her a smirk. “Why ya squealin’, afraid of a little hay?” With that, he chucked another handful.
Abby was telling herself that her flaily reaction was a practical aversion to getting shards of plant material in her eyes--when in fact, she was being particularly girly (and resenting that fact). Nate’s last fistful hit dead center on most of her hair, with a side being stuck on her lips, which she puffed at: in vain.
“Ugh---y’know. Germs, an’stuff.” Said while drawing the back of her arm across her mouth, followed by more vibrating lip-raspberries. Quite an effective diversionary tactic, designed to get him just a little bit closer, giving Abby a better target for the half-crumbling bale of hay she whipped at him, just for spite.
Unfortunately, Abby’s aim was never great, and it sailed past her brother’s hip, and on down the ladder well toward the barn floor.
A surprised yelp drifted up from the floor below as an unsuspecting Greg was doused with hay. The chevalier had heard the siblings’ playful banter as he entered the barn to check on the horses, but aside from a chuckle he’d left them to themselves. To say he hadn’t been expecting to have half a hay bale land on his head was an understatement, and it took him a moment to get his wits back about him.
Nate froze when he heard the yell coming from below him. Curiously, he poked his head over the edge of the loft to see Greg standing there. He relaxed, snorting a laugh at the other man, leaning over to wave at him.
“Yeah, sorry about that, dude. It was totally Abby, completely useless in the aim department. You alright?” He chuckled at him, then was hit dead in the face with a small handful of hay-crumbs.
“Not completely useless.” She corrected her brother, then peeked over the edge along with him.
“Aye?” Greg cocked an eyebrow at the two siblings as he picked hay out of his hair. “This demands retribution you know.” He warned with a smirk, and moved toward the ladder to come up to the hayloft.
“Aww, now look what you did, Abs. Now Greg is going to come up and kill you.” Nate backed away with a smirk, arming himself with another handful of hay as Greg climbed up. “This time, you might actually want to aim for him.” Abby snorted, and shoved him lightly by the shoulder.
“You started it.” A picture of maturity, she said it amidst a futile attempt to comb hay-bits out of her hair by the fingers. A slightly apologetic look fixed on Greg, though in the back of her mind, the word ‘retribution’ was ringing a few bells. She was so not above throwing her brother under that particular bus... they both had much shorter hair.
An inquisitive noise was the only sign Greg had listened to either Theien as he made his way up the ladder. A devilish smile was firmly in place as he gathered handfuls of hay. The chevalier ignored Nate for the moment and focused his attention solely on Abigail as the culprit for his hay shower a moment before.
“Oooh, no. Y’all were jus’in th’wrong place, wrong time.” Boots scuffed the old boards as she took a half-step back, noting the two big hands full of hay at Greg’s side. Even though one hand and pointer finger was her feeble attempt to hold him at bay, the tilted wolfish grin on his face resulted in one of her own.
“Aye, the main floor of the barn is obviously a dangerous place for a poor unsuspecting horseman wanting to check on his animals.” Greg’s smirk grew wider as he continued to advance. With limited space she would have nowhere left to run shortly, he could be patient.
“Very. Look what it got’chu.” Stubborn sarcasm was Abby’s go-to when she was cornered, either playfully or not. Still, it didn’t hurt to swing down and grab a few handfuls for herself, even if the back wall bumped her hip when she did so.
The handfuls of hay were scornfully ignored. He already had been covered in hay once, what was one more time if it allowed him to accomplish his goal? Master Lee had always told him he had to be able to put aside discomforts in such situations, and the past year had certainly helped toughen him up beyond anything normal training had done prior to that. Greg’s eyes narrowed as he backed Abigail into the corner and let his handfuls of hay fly.
And of course, she screeched, turning her face away on instinct so that--naturally--most of it was caught in her hair. Of course, a split second later, Abby found her motivation to move, and stepped forward, practically into Greg, with an attempted handful of hay stuffed down the back of his shirt. Laughing as she did.
Most of the hay was avoided as Greg twisted out Abby’s attack, laughing. His hands clamped onto hers and sent her spinning toward the solid mass of hay bales a few steps away. She wasn’t in any real danger, that stack was at least ten feet thick and almost as high, but it was amusing to watch. He glanced over at Nathan, wondering if he was going to have to defend himself against attack from her brother or if he’d be too busy laughing at his sister’s fate.
Nate, while not particularly a sneaky person, had decided to gather more supplies while Greg honed in on his sister and both of them were distracted. He had gathered large handfuls of loose hay into his hands, scooping up just slightly more than a handful.
He looked up just in time to see his sister fly into a stack of hay bales, unable to keep from laughing, he was practically choking on his laughter, his face turning beat red. Of course, he then notice that Greg had looked back at him and it was far better to attack than wait to be attacked, right?
He threw the large handfuls of hay at the other mans face before stepping backwards to get out of the other mans reach.
Greg sneezed upon getting the face full of hay and blinked, falling backward onto a nearby hay bale. The attack had caught him completely by surprise as he hadn’t been expecting Nate to be so sneaky. After clearing the hay off his face the Chevalier couldn’t help but laugh, and waved off the other man. “Well done!”
Nate laughed as the other man fell into a bale of hay, smirking and holding his hand up in triumph, he was after all the last man left standing. When he was praised, Nate made a dramatic bow, with a flourish of his wrist.
“I know, I know, I’m a sneaky genius.”
“So you are.” Greg agreed. He eyed Nate and debated knocking him off his feet but decided against it. There wasn’t enough loose hay by the man to cushion his fall, and Greg wasn’t interested in causing him actual harm. With a grunt he brought himself quickly back to his feet and finished brushing himself off.
He glanced around the loft, looking at the loose hay strewn about the floor as a result of the fight. “We should probably clean this up or use it for the animals. It wouldn’t do for the new people to leave a mess for others to clean up.”