Elena Gilbert (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bewitcheries) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} the_triangle_rp,@ 2012-04-04 00:13:00 |
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Character(s): Elena Gilbert and Klaus Mikaelson
Rating: PG-13, TBA
Cautions/Warnings: Language, pissy!Elena, sassy!KlausSassmeister?, most probably bluds.
Location: Fishing Area
Approximate Date: TBD for specifics, some time after this though
Status: Openish (PM to join)
Lots of brooding usually led to militant "usefulness" with Elena, and that was why she could be found sitting on a rock early one morning as she struggled with a long branch and a piece of twine that someone had salvaged from the cave, in what was claimed to be the best fishing area on the island. Somehow she felt that if she could provide for someone, anyone really, it would absolve some of the guilt she was riddled with over the events of the past weeks. There was also the option of resolving things, but she wasn't quite ready to confront Damon just yet, and she still had a lot of things to sort out in her own head before she could even make that step. So for now, it was fishing to cleanse the sins of the guilt ridden, and had she been less preoccupied with the task at hand, she could have probably found humour in the almost-Biblical style way in which she was trying to find retribution.
As it was, Elena had just about had enough of the twine that simply would not stay untangled. Carefully picking out knots for what felt like the hundredth time, she fished another small insect out of her bucket, attached it as well as the small rock in place of a weight, and tossed it back into the sea as far as she could. It wasn't far at all, in fact it had landed embarrassingly close to shore, but at least their wasn't anyone to witness the failure. After all, this form of retribution was more about the solitude required for her to make peace with her own thoughts than any real effort to reap some rewards from her time out on the rocks. She flexed her hand slightly as she looked at the wounds she held on her left arm. The two puncture wounds at the base of her wrist were healing surprisingly well, already scabbed over, but the same could not be said for the self-inflicted gash in the centre of her palm. It was not in an ideal position for healing over, honestly, and every time she so much as moved her hand the wound re-opened at least a little bit. This time was no different. Elena winced as she picked the stick up with the wrong hand and felt the scab on her palm tear yet again.
With a soft huff, she wiped the trace amounts of blood on her shorts and tried to ignore the dull throbbing ache as she pulled the twine in again and repeated the act of "fishing" once more: untangle, fling out, wait, pull in, repeat. She was not patient enough for a pastime like this, it seemed. After over an hour and only one, tiny catch she was almost ready to give up. She probably would have too, if it wasn't for the real reason she was sitting on the rock in the first place. Retribution wasn't a fast acting relief, as much as Elena was trying to force it to be.
Rating: PG-13, TBA
Cautions/Warnings: Language, pissy!Elena, sassy!Klaus
Location: Fishing Area
Approximate Date: TBD for specifics, some time after this though
Status: Openish (PM to join)
Lots of brooding usually led to militant "usefulness" with Elena, and that was why she could be found sitting on a rock early one morning as she struggled with a long branch and a piece of twine that someone had salvaged from the cave, in what was claimed to be the best fishing area on the island. Somehow she felt that if she could provide for someone, anyone really, it would absolve some of the guilt she was riddled with over the events of the past weeks. There was also the option of resolving things, but she wasn't quite ready to confront Damon just yet, and she still had a lot of things to sort out in her own head before she could even make that step. So for now, it was fishing to cleanse the sins of the guilt ridden, and had she been less preoccupied with the task at hand, she could have probably found humour in the almost-Biblical style way in which she was trying to find retribution.
As it was, Elena had just about had enough of the twine that simply would not stay untangled. Carefully picking out knots for what felt like the hundredth time, she fished another small insect out of her bucket, attached it as well as the small rock in place of a weight, and tossed it back into the sea as far as she could. It wasn't far at all, in fact it had landed embarrassingly close to shore, but at least their wasn't anyone to witness the failure. After all, this form of retribution was more about the solitude required for her to make peace with her own thoughts than any real effort to reap some rewards from her time out on the rocks. She flexed her hand slightly as she looked at the wounds she held on her left arm. The two puncture wounds at the base of her wrist were healing surprisingly well, already scabbed over, but the same could not be said for the self-inflicted gash in the centre of her palm. It was not in an ideal position for healing over, honestly, and every time she so much as moved her hand the wound re-opened at least a little bit. This time was no different. Elena winced as she picked the stick up with the wrong hand and felt the scab on her palm tear yet again.
With a soft huff, she wiped the trace amounts of blood on her shorts and tried to ignore the dull throbbing ache as she pulled the twine in again and repeated the act of "fishing" once more: untangle, fling out, wait, pull in, repeat. She was not patient enough for a pastime like this, it seemed. After over an hour and only one, tiny catch she was almost ready to give up. She probably would have too, if it wasn't for the real reason she was sitting on the rock in the first place. Retribution wasn't a fast acting relief, as much as Elena was trying to force it to be.