The Field

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? )

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: OPEN to anyone in camp!
When: Day 15, afternoon through sundown
Where: in camp
What: Dressing, cooking and eating of eleboar piglet. Also, there's a live eleboar piglet that needs to be confined in a cage or something. :D
Rating: TBD
Notes: Here's a shot at a group thread. Please feel free to comment, pick a threading buddy or two, and make sub-threads conversations with whomever you please! Thanks everybody!

( Let's eat! )

Who: Ryan and Clay
What: Yet again, the throwing of stones.
When: Eh, whenever. Day 14.
Where: In the field.
Warning(s): Just cursing at the moment, but you never know.
Rating: PG-13

( Li'l David was small but oh my; Li'l David was small but oh my; He fought big Goliath, who lay down and dieth; Li'l David was small but oh my )

Who: Ryan and Thorne
When: early afternoon, day 13
Where: camp, then the stream in the forest
What: a willing abduction
Rating: NC-17 (language, explicit M/M sexual content)

( the only future he was interested in at the moment was the next hour or so )

Who: Ryan & Bazzer
Where: around the campfire
When: midday Day 13
What: Ryan's attempting more clay pots. Bazzer is hungry. Snark ensues. Clay is thrown.

( Oh, heads I win, tails you lose, to the never mind. When to draw the line )

Who: Everyone
Where: Around the campfire
What: Catching Up and Discussing The Future
When: Sunset
Rating: G to PG, depending on how the language goes.

Helena returned to her log by the fire and settled down next to the pouch of yarnballs, taking them up once again. She worked at pulling them apart as people began to drift back in to the camp, pausing to breath in the smoking grazer meat and pop boiled pesk eggs into their mouths. Some of them chewed strands of sweetgrind or braided fieldgrass as they chattered and caught up. Once everyone had arrived, she stood up and cleared her throat. "I just wanted to say a few things before we pack up for the night," she said over the din.

"Firstly, welcome back Thorne, Cross, Alex, Kenneth and Jasper. We're really glad to have you back and it's nice to see that you found a few things on your adventure. The grazer hide and meat is especially welcome." She flashed a smile around at the more tanned and sunburned faces in the circle.

"Secondly, I want to pass on a bit of bad news before you hear it from others. We lost four women while you were gone." She cleared her throat, clearly upset by this happening and with good reason. No one had voted Helena as the leader of the group, it had just happened. She still felt responsible and she should, if she were actually the leader. "There's been no sign of Annie, Lauren, Nancy and Jeri."

"Lastly," and here her gaze lingered on Bazzer. He looked...not like himself. She wondered what was eating the younger man. Still, she moved on. "Bazzer and I were discussing the tribe's prospects the other day and I said I would bring up an option to the whole of the group when we were all together again." She clasped her hands infront of herself and tried to organize her pro opinion in order to deliver it well. "Plenty of small tribal societies living without large advancements in technology, much like we are, survived for generations as nomadic peoples." She felt more than heard a hum move around the circle. "I believe that becoming nomadic might be a good answer for us. We're stripping the food supply here nearly bare. We don't know how the weather might change here over the next few months as well. Also, how can we know if there is no city in this world if we don't forge farther out than we can do in a day's run? I think it is safer for the group as a whole if we travel together, look out for each other and move forward rather than wait around here for something to happen." That said, she waited for the questions and opinions of the others. "What do you think?"

Who: Ryan and Thorne
Where: the forest, then the climber tree
When: Day 12, shortly before the meeting
What: sharing... information
Rating: PG-13 (boys kissing, language, innuendo)

( it was about time for something good to happen )

Who: Helena and Ryan
Where: In the western woods
When: mid-morning on Day Eleven
What: A trip west to retrieve a chunk of clay and whatever else they might find.
Rating: G to start!

Helena had taken her usual walk into the field on Day Eleven and come back empty handed. Not another soul out there today, for which she was grateful. Then she'd turned her face eastward and wondered if the scouting party was ever coming back. Tomorrow, she decided, If they aren't back by sundown tomorrow, I'm going looking. Even wordlessly, she wasn't willing to admit that it was Cross's fate she was the most worried about.

She busied herself gathering a bit of food that she and Ryan could eat throughout the day. She borrowed one of Rowan's pillowcases to carry the berries and moss in, as well as a couple dozen hardboiled pesk eggs. They seemed to lay them almost faster than they could eat them, which was good. Once that was all gathered she lounged by the fire as she waited for Ryan to be ready. She knew the young man was up, she was just waiting for him to be ready. They were not too terribly pressed for time. She thought that just a day spent away from camp would do them both good, even if they didn't make it to the clay flats. She knew that she could really use the break.

Who: Ryan and Arlo
When: early morning
Where: the woods, at the stream
What: random encounter
Rating: R (language, of course!)

As Ryan washed his face in the stream, he was wondering how his socked feet were going to hold up to the walking he and Helena planned to do today. He could only hope that he wouldn't step on something he hadn't seen and get it rammed up into his foot. Not a happy thought, there. He sighed and paused with water still dripping off of his skin, then decided to immerse his entire head. Sure, the water was chilly, but he was definitely awake now.

The blond sat back on his heels and pushed his hair out of his face, shivering a little as icy water dripped down his back. He squinted up through the trees into the sky, wondering what the day would end up being like. It was really too early to tell, and he couldn't see anything but a vague impression of color. He hadn't expected to, but somehow he couldn't stop himself from trying. His chin lowered and he got to his feet as he heard someone approaching through the woods; he half-turned and waited to see who it would be.

Who: Helena and Ryan
What: A weaving experiment and chat
Where: under the climber tree
When: the afternoon
Rating: G

( What Choice Did They Have But To Forge Ahead? )

Who: Angelica and OPEN
Where: Sitting in the climber tree, putting on sunscreen
When: 10 Late morning
Rating: R (possible cursing)

( That smack in the face wasn't very nice, but kind of eye opening. )

Who: Ryan and Clay
Where: near the climber tree
When: morning
Rating: PG-13 (language)

Ryan, who was ordinarily cheerful, was feeling more than a little cranky as he slogged back from making a short trip into the woods to relieve himself. It was so foggy that he'd almost gotten turned around, there were muddy puddles everywhere-- his socks and the bottom third of his pajama pants were caked with the stuff-- and he'd stepped on a fish that seemed to have teeth, as his left big toe could have attested to. Fish. In the forest. What the hell? Washed up from the stream by the monsoon, yeah, but it was still weird and just one more thing to have to watch out for.

He had the slippery, scaled creature in one hand as his other trailed over the tree trunks, counting his way back to camp. He should spread out his damp sleeping bag and hope it dried some; it hadn't been the most comfortable thing ever to sleep in. At least he had one though, he reflected. Ryan emerged into the main camp area just past the climber tree where most of them slept and ran right into someone. Par for the course today, he guessed.

"Sorry," he mumbled, squinting to try to recognize the person, temporarily breaching their personal space so he could see them. It was Clay, the guy he'd met the first morning he'd arrived here. "Hey," he said, stepping back again and holding up his hand to show off the peculiar-looking fish. "Where I come from, fish aren't s'posed to have teeth."

Who: Ryan and Olivia
Where: the climber tree
When: arse o'clock, when the storm blows in!
Rating: PG

( rain, rain, go away )

Who: Ryan and Thorne
Where: near the climber tree
When: early evening
What: Discussing fishing nets and talk of grazers.
Rating: PG?

( Thorne is eager to talk to Ryan again )

Who: Ryan
When: Day 7; 11:00 a.m.
Where: The climber tree
What: pesk nest raiding!
Rating: G

( a boy's adventure tale )

Who: Rowan and Ryan
Where: the edge of the forest, to start
When: morning, after the service
Rating: PG (mild language)

Ryan had waited until the majority of people who'd come to Father Alex's service had dispersed before he got up. He figured the last thing anyone would want was for him to trip over anyone else. It wasn't like he had an appointment to get to, anyway, so he sat and chilled, wondering idly what his roommates thought about his sudden disappearance. He was assuming he'd disappeared. Anything else he didn't want to think about, since that'd be a metaphysical nightmare of epic proportions.

Finally he hauled himself off the ground and began making his way back in the general direction of camp before changing his mind and veering off to the north slightly. He was hungry and he had hopes he could find some berries or something. Carefully he investigated the nearest bush with his fingers and found it to be berryless, then moved to the next one, hating to think about the state of his socks. He was grateful to have them, but he really would like to find a way to wash them out soon.

( why are we here? )

Who: Alex & Open (try to comment at least once just so I know who was there)
Where: Edge of the forest
When: Day 7, morning

( ...if you'd prefer a lecture, I've a few very catchy ones prepped...sin and hellfire... one has lepers. )

Who: Ryan and Thorne
Where: not far from the climber tree
When: first light
What: nets and water
Rating: PG-13 (mild language, innuendo)

Ryan had awakened earlier than he would have liked with the urgent need to make a bathroom visit. Well, a tree visit, he guessed. It was like being on a camping trip that never ended with the constant trips into the cover of the woods to pee on the base of a tree somewhere. He'd reluctantly climbed down from his sleeping bag hammock-- reluctantly and carefully, needless to say-- and taken his memorized path to the nearest cover. Once he'd done that, he'd made his way back to the foot of the climber tree, glad that it was light and at least he could see a little bit. He knew that most of the people at their camp would be heading out to explore the various directions and see what could be found, and he'd be stuck here with the pregnant chick and the lady who'd kind of taken charge.

He wasn't going to complain about it, but he didn't like it, just because he hated feeling useless. Ryan stood quietly, trying to smooth his rumpled hair with his fingers and decide if he wanted to get back into his hammock or stay up.

( nets, schmets )

Who: EVERYONE (posting is mandatory)
Where: The base of the climber tree, gathered around the fire after a yummy dinner of tubers, berries and citrusmoss.
When: Late afternoon as the sun is starting to set behind the trees.
What: A State of the Union address.
Rating: G

( Closing The Day )