ɢᴀʟᴇ (traps) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-02-14 19:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, gale hawthorne, leliana |
Who: Gale & Leliana
What: WEAPONS (and then Dole whips, later)
When: Cornucopia Day
Where: The beach then home
Rating/Warnings: Hunger Games trauma, FEELS, hairless pig bunny cuteness
Status: Complete
It had finally happened. Orange County reached into the depths of his war-torn, ravaged psyche and pulled out a whole cornucopia’s worth (pun dryly, and morbidly intended) of nightmare fuel to dump out all over what he considered to be home. There was nothing even remotely good about the Hunger Games - he’d spent his life, in his dreams, a slave to their unfair practices, rigged nature (no one ever claimed to, but he knew), and witnessing year after year the blood of innocent children being spilled. All in the name of a sick and twisted form of entertainment - then the winners were plopped into a lap of luxury, while the rest of the country continued to never get enough to eat. And dreaded the passage of time, weeks turning into months, as they wondered whether they’d be next. Until the age of eighteen, anyway, when you were officially too old and left to simply starve to death in relative comfort. No one could protect their children from the horror of that reaping ball - and that was what he despised most, that he could put his name in as many extra times as he wanted, in exchange for more grain and oil to help feed his family, but as was the case with Primrose Everdeen it only took one slip of paper to potentially send you to an early grave. Seeing the tidal wave slam against what looked to be an invisible barrier before retreating, right from their home on the beach, had been more than a little unnerving. The blood rain more so, and they’d herded the animals indoors for the time being - investigating further led them to Seal Beach, to the large golden cornucopia that looked all too familiar and was all too close to Peeta and Annie’s apartment building. It was overstuffed with a variety of things - weapons and tokens from Panem mostly; he thought he caught sight of a few Mockingjay pins and other assorted paraphernalia in there. “This is a fucking nightmare,” he grumbled, an arrow nocked and ready in case anything popped out. He was hesitant to actually walk closer to the foreboding ‘monument.’ “Doesn’t look like there are any plates around here though - every Tribute had to stand on one as they counted down to the official start of the Games. If you stepped off too early, you got blown to smithereens.” Had he mentioned he hated this shit yet? Because he did. Oh, yes, as if they needed something else not long after their literal fears and insecurities were made flesh from that all-consuming fog. It was a new shift in the weather - the air smelled metallic, blood soaked into the Earth. It reminded her of the stories the nuns used to preach to scare them about the end of times, make sure you’re on His side to achieve access to the pearly gates or die with the sinners. There wasn’t anything biblical about this, or apocalyptic. Just another person’s nightmare coming through. And this time, it was quite personal. “You don’t think this place has been turned into an entire arena, do you?” Gale’s body language spoke volumes. Leliana kept close, concealed blades on her purple-robed person, and she placed a hand over his bicep. “I doubt there is anyone out there. Relax.” She’d known enough about his dreams to recognize where this came from - the game that pitted previous victors against the other? Maker, it was cruel. And she was sure it was only the beginning. “It could be,” Gale was forced to admit, as much as he didn’t want to - but the tidal wave, the blood rain, the appearance of the cornucopia. It all made him wonder just what the fuck was next. “There could be mutts soon, popping up. Or acid fog. Or those bugs with the pinchers - whatever the noisy insects were supposed to be.” That particular arena for the Quarter Quell, the 75th Hunger Games, had been divided into twelve sections of complete and utter fuckery. Tick tock, tick tock. Surprise, it was a clock. “If it is, it’s not laid out like the one from my dreams. But we’ll see.” He tried to relax a little as Leli said, his muscles not so tense - then he stuck the arrow back in the quiver he wore, and shouldered the bow. Combat boots in the sand, and a sidearm pistol tucked away in its holster, he too was ready for more battle. Seemed like he always was these days - despite how he wanted to just retire for a little while. Return to regular therapy to get his head on straight, learn to bake more things at Mellarky, earn more responsibility at Arendelle Network. Maybe even go back to school, for a degree. Good to know. Perhaps to warn others too, though she assumed those like Peeta and Katniss would be spreading the wealth of information. Right now her priority was to make sure Gale didn’t lose it, because facing that Capitol-hybrid monster in the fog, and now this? Leliana could only imagine the storm in his head, and hoped that her touch would serve as a soothing salve on a burn. “Whatever happens, we will handle it,” she whispered, a kiss to her soldier’s shoulder. Together, because there was no damn fog that’d keep them separated this round. It was quiet now. The ocean at ease, no threat of another rainfall of hot blood at the moment. An opportune time to investigate everything in the center. “It wouldn’t hurt to see what is in there, no? Dangerous things lying about, it is best we take it and not leave it so readily available for strangers,” suggested the redhead. “Then we can go home - I still have those dole whips to finish.” It was Valentine’s Day, this wouldn’t ruin their night together completely. Dole whips were her one Pinterest success she had perfected during their relationship - she’d make an endless amount, to distract his mind from all this. Well, Gale wouldn’t argue that logic. Stupid people didn’t need to be wielding weapons - basically any idiot in the OC could stumble upon this treasure trove and take something they shouldn’t. Then who knew what the fuck kind of horror would be unleashed. “Let’s do it,” he agreed, taking a few steps closer to what literally gave him the heebie jeebies - and if he had trouble defining what exactly that meant before, he knew now. It was everything related to Panem in this life, where the Hunger Games didn’t belong. Another three or so cautious steps toward the cornucopia, holding an arm out to ensure Leli got behind him - like hell she was going first. Call him paranoid, call him crazy, but this was his nightmare bullshit, he wouldn’t expose her to it by throwing her in the thick of things if he could help it. But there was nothing popping out. It really was just...a smorgasbord of weapons and other random tokens. “There’s another bow and arrows? A spear, I think? Mostly primitive stuff,” he said as he rummaged. You wouldn’t find any flamethrowers in here; that kind of selection never was available for Tributes. “But I’m all for collecting what we want and going home. I do have a gift for you, maybe.” Gale insisted being her shield, Leliana would insist on being his shadow, then - trailing close from behind, making sure no surprises crept on them. He was brute force, she was always something a little more gentle. Quiet but swift, and when they were met with only the sounds of the ocean once they reached the center, she let out a breath of air she didn’t even know she’d been holding. That was oddly easy, for now. The selection of weaponry seemed mostly melee. Some projectile things, like an assortment of throwing blades she pocketed, because those were certainly shiny! “Do you?” Pink lips smiled, soft blues peeking up at him. “I suppose we should hurry then, no?” She’d feel much better with him being away from all this, in the safety of their own home. But the worst was always yet to come. The best she could do was make sure he didn’t lose himself in the mess of his mind while they rode this most recent carryover out. “Yeah, I agonized for awhile about whether you’d like it or not - even asked my sister for advice,” Gale smirked, but it wasn’t as if Posy had some deep connection to the inner workings of the female psyche; she was only ten. Instead, he sent her ideas via pictures taken on his phone and she had picked what was shiniest and prettiest, and told him to choose that one. Hurrying to get to that sounded great. Plus, the Dole whips. He really loved those fucking things, and Leliana had struck gold with the recipe. Basically she could get him to do anything with that dessert as incentive - he wondered if she knew of the power she wielded in that regard. Selecting a sword, because he’d always wanted to learn to use one, he made sure it was sheathed and covered when he drew it free. “Not much other stuff like empty canteens, dried fruit, or matches,” he observed - these bits and pieces of outdoor survival necessities probably weren’t required in Orange County. He allowed himself some relief with that, for some reason. “Alright, I don’t really want any white roses or Mockingjay belt buckles - so we can go whenever.” Leliana had been looking at those aforementioned Mockingjay trinkets - the white roses, too. It was curiosity, and perhaps she thought that touch would help her understand his world a little more. Even if she had seen what that kind of world had done to him, physically and mentally - heard about it from his friends that shared the same dreamscape, it felt surreal to see some of it transplant here in a more tangible form, for all to witness. “I wouldn’t discredit any advice she gave you,” she chuckled softly, dropping a token item of another world’s revolution, and used the length of the spear to help her stand. “Children can be very perceptive. But I’m curious to see what Posy helped contribute to?” Though she seemed done as well. And very eager to leave. There was nothing else for them to do but to wait for the next sudden change of events. Stepping over the pile of essentials between them, she hopped over to minimize the gap between them and tip-toed for a kiss - the boots she had added height, but Gale was a towering giant. “You know the saying - ‘this too shall pass,’” Leliana whispered, nose to nose. “It will be alright.” Gale slung his arm around her waist, palm of his hand splaying on Leliana’s lower back. He held her close to him, the strength in his arms protective, and kissed her again because she was there and it helped. Being here sucked, but it was necessary, and the gestures of affection for such a hardened, steely soldier - yeah, those definitely helped. His eyes tightened, soot and coaldust, and he let out a cleansing exhale. “I think I’ve heard that somewhere. It’ll pass. Panem is...not Orange County. Maybe temporarily, but not forever.” If he said the words aloud, they’d be more convincing to his paranoia, and work to soothe flare-ups. “We’ll keep an eye and ear out? If something else happens - “ Gale paused, “...it wouldn’t feel right to not be involved.” Her own slender arms went around him, under his - and she may not possess the brute strength he did, but her squeeze was still tight, still fierce. “Of course. I doubt we’ll experience any sort of peace for the next couple days, and considering you’ve mentioned acidic fog...” It could come, but at what range? Just some places? Everywhere? Alyssa’s death was still fresh. A reminder that sometimes people didn’t survive what the disasters of this; no one wanted to see another life taken. No one wanted their baggage to be the reason. “Come now,” she began, sliding her hands down to give his rump a playful pat-pat - and she pushed their faces together for another kiss. “We’ll go out there together, even if I have to keep us together with a leash.” Leliana smiled impishly and tugged him along. This time she went in front of him, on their way back to the shore. “A leash, sounds kinky,” Gale lifted an eyebrow teasingly - the ass grab (okay, it was more like a light spank) had helped get his mind focused elsewhere, away from the giant cornucopia of doom, at least. “But yeah, you know. Together, like you said before.” That was how they’d handled everything thus far - everything from the wetworks operations to the explosion that ended it all, and settling into ‘civilian’ life. It was a lot, but having her was worth everything - and damn if they couldn’t stop this shit, or any other baggage from leaking through, but they could be there for each other. He adjusted his abundance of weapons, carrying the bow on his shoulder, the arrows on his back, and the sword sheathed in a scabbard he now attached to his hip, and they were on their way. “The acid fog was shitty, probably the worst part,” he pulled a face. “It caused these scabs that were so itchy. Plus it’s probably more deadly than that other fog - only takes a few minutes of exposure.” Which was why he would definitely be keeping a close, vigilant watch on the happenings - he couldn’t afford to slack, not right now. Not at home. Oceanfront living had its perks, it really did. Mostly the calming effect it had, despite the wave that almost drowned out their entire yard - blessed be that invisible barrier, or something. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest to stay too close to shore if another massive tide swept in but she could swim. Unless the waters were somehow infested with mutated sharks and a rabid piranha population. Seemed very Hunger Games like, actually, so Leliana then took a couple hops to the side once she thought that one through. “We’ll have to keep an eye on the animals when they’re out, then,” she hummed thoughtfully, fingers intertwined - affection and safety in one gesture. “And keep the ravens inside, all the windows closed. Unless the fog can somehow eat away at inanimate objects?” Andraste’s grace, she hoped not. Then no one would be safe. Gale didn’t think so - then again, his sense of finely-tuned paranoia when it came to the ‘wonders’ of the OC meant that sometimes he trusted nothing. “It ate away part of the uniforms, on the Tributes,” he said. “But something like a window, or building foundations? No, it can’t eat away at that.” Otherwise part of the arena would have been obliterated - still, the fog definitely caused some terrible side effects. Seizures, paralysis, blisters, boils. A big cup of ‘no fucking thank you’ for that one. It was relieving, to reach home again after that excursion. He’d still keep the animals inside just in case, the nugs and Bella Nutella and the ravens, because the blood rain had been bad enough - that shit could choke you, literally. But being indoors, a chance to decompress, that was a good thing. Gale immediately relieved himself of the weapons, putting them away safely, combat boots coming off - and like any true hungry man, he headed for the kitchen to sniff around for Valentine’s treats. “Are they in the freezer?” Look at the overgrown, excited puppy wanting a snack. “Yes,” she called out - mainly because she had been bombarded by the neediest and smallest of the nugs, Boulette. Leliana barely had a minute to strip herself of the excess ware when this particular one came around, circling her feet, and like a child begged to be picked up in her human’s arms. And held, somewhat like a toddler, by being attached to her hip. It was exactly how she entered the kitchen, the sight of a true pet-mother. “You know, if you were a tad bit more patient I would have brought them to you,” she smirked, an eyebrow quirked. But they were in the freezer - portioned out already in mason jars, several of them. Making them in a batch didn’t hurt in this household. She knew Gale was always prepared to trample strollers for them. Boulette pressed that odd noise against Leli’s jaw and sniffed-squeaked, which was a sound of curious investigation. “The least I could do for forcing you to have another romantic comedy marathon with me?” She proved to be a Netflix binge-watcher, you see. Valentine’s Day was meant to be a homey, stay-in sort of thing after the fog fiasco. A bit interrupted, perhaps, but unless something else popped up in the next several hours they could resume their plans, no? But Dole fucking whips! Of course Gale was impatient. His head was basically stuck in the freezer when Leli returned, and he emerged victorious with a mason jar. Now to rummage for a spoon. First, however, he set everything on the counter and turned to lovingly squish Boulette’s cute-ugly face between his hands and smooch her on the top of her head. He was such a damn sucker for these nugs, and had been ever since Schmooples went digging in the mud with Tella at a park. “If you let me use your chest as a pillow, I might just fall asleep anyway, so I don’t mind the marathon,” he chuckled, twisting the cap off a mason jar. All this creamy pineapple goodness was making him nostalgic. “Remember when we went to Disney? I miss Jack. He must be missing the fuckery too.” Lucky bastard, moving overseas with his lady. Some days Gale hoped for a reassignment to a base in Germany or something, and he could take Leliana with him. “I’m gonna give you your gift,” he added, but around a spoonful it sounded like, “Ah aughta eh uh guh.” Attractive. Now Boulette was all riled thanks to Gale’s shower of affection, and squirmed until Leliana set her down on the floor. Fine, fine. Run along now. Snuff to your heart’s content, little nug. “I’m sure he misses you too, drinking that fireball abomination in your honor,” she mused. It was a very fond memory of the early part of the relationship, being called to pick up two very hung over men after a night of arson - and then pancakes. As for what he said, well… “Manners, Gale.” Actually, she didn’t even understand what he tried to say, just gave him a scolding sort of look before fetching a pineapple-filled mason jar herself. She liked hers with a couple cherries and dollop (which meant half the can in Leli terms) of whipped cream. It’d be her dinner. Stomach of a bird and all. “Swallow like a good boy - now what was that?” It was meant to be a little dirty, just a smidge. Those ginger-colored brows waggled. “I said that I’m gonna give you your gift, but I think I might just bend you over the kitchen table and give you a spanking instead,” he grumbled, tall and menacing ‘built like a brick shithouse’ soldier he was - but yet so soft when it came to the redhead he adored and the other ladies-gentlemen in the family, the sex-changing nugs and Tella. Who tended to guard those nugs like they were her hairless babies, it was actually kind of cute. To prove his point, Gale seized Leli in his arms and kissed her over and over, playful gestures of affection, something of a rarity for a stormcloud such as he. But she had a way of bringing whatever sense of humor he possessed to the surface. Now it was his turn to give her ass a pat - more like a grabby-grab in large hands, it filled out his grip perfectly as if the divine posterior was meant to be there - before he let go to find where he’d stashed her Valentine’s Day present. Ohhh, my! Was that a promise? Leliana would happily take being bent over and spanked any day - the kitchen table was as good as any place, mmf. At the moment she was ensnared in a whirlwind smooches and grabby hands, all things that caused a squeal with a very dorkish snort, and she hugged the dole-ship container against her chest protectively. Ah, yes. The clear image of a cut throat killer. She made many timbers shiver, clearly. “That could still be part of the night!” she sung out after him, contemplating on following him but, no, she thought it best to wait in the kitchen. And get comfy on the counter, dipping her spoon into the glass jar for a scoop of soft serve pineapple, cherries, and cream. He seemed to be doing better. For now, anyway. The next couple days would be a mental challenge, and her plans were to be attentive. Keep him grounded into the live they created here and perhaps it’d help him remember everything else a little less. Though it was quite a shame she couldn’t stab anything in the face for him at the moment. Stabbing something in the face (or shooting it in the face, in Gale’s case) was a tried and true method for the both of them - probably why they were kindred spirits. But no need, at the moment, he’d use today to sort of prep him for what was to come, to get his head in the game. Because it wouldn’t end here, he knew that. Nowhere did anyone in Panem get off easy - they’d gone to war to earn their freedom and abolish the Games; that had been no cakewalk. His hiding space was clever, because Leliana was a little spy so Gale couldn’t leave her present in an obvious location. Which was why he’d stashed it in a sock ball, the pairs folded up in the drawer and concealing the small velvet box. It was presented to her as she sat on the counter, with a rare genuine smile and a, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” Inside were his dog tags, cleaned and polished and shiny new on a chain. It may have seemed insignificant, and cheap, to not give your girlfriend a ring forged from blood gemstones or something - if you didn’t know what those dog tags meant, that is. But for a soldier to give their dog tags to someone, it was essentially giving themselves to that person. They carried no other means of identification with them in battle - it was how they were identified anyway, if they were killed, even if the dog tags weren’t with the body. Most soldiers had more than one set, but he wanted Leli to have one of his. Because he was hers. It was true - if she had an inkling that Gale had been hiding something (and she was very, very good at detecting telltale signs of bullshit), she would have done her utmost to sniff it out. Out of gnawing, mischievous curiosity. But he’d done well keep it discrete. Had her rather proud, and she fought a coy smile when he joined her on the counter. And at the mere sight of the gift, she paused in dragging the spoon from her mouth. This was….well, this was probably the most personal gift Gale could ever give her - a representation of who he was. As a person, as a soldier. Eventually the utensil was pulled out of her mouth, the dole whip set aside so she could give him her full attention, and Leliana took the chain with such care as if it was glass. “It looks almost new, Gale. You’re sure you want to give me these?” “Posy told me to clean them because they’re prettier when they’re shiny,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “When I asked for her input so, you know, that was the sisterly advice she gave me. But of course I’m sure.” He reached for the chain and slid it over Leliana’s ginger head, so the silver tags dangled near her throat. “Now you’ll always have me with you, no matter where I go.” He was meant to ease into more of a civilian life, that was why he’d taken a few steps away from Active Duty - but Reservists did get sent overseas, if necessary, just not as often as he would have otherwise. So there was no way to tell for sure what would happen, or where his duty to be all he could be would take him - but he liked the idea of leaving the person he loved with something to sort of connect them, even if they were far apart and separated by an ocean. No matter where I go. Sounded very final, didn’t it? Sometimes it was easy to forget that he could be called elsewhere tonight, tomorrow, whenever, and it’d ruin the stride of mundanity they’d managed to build for themselves here. A home of their own, complete with their own family of hairless, furred and feathered companions. Maybe one day with a tiny human companion they made themselves (after this current wave of OC baby fever had subsided), but right now she was content to focus solely on them. “I would follow you, you know,” Leliana hushedly said, leaning forward to knock their foreheads together. “Just so I know my soldier makes it back home safe and sound.” He’d gone with her when her job had taken her places, why would she not do the same? They were in this for the long run, and she would always need him. “I know.” Gale cupped her face in his hands, framing soft cheeks, and kissed her gratefully - because he was glad, and relieved, that Leliana understood the significance of a gift like this. Not that he had any doubt about it, but he’d just never given anyone anything like that before. Not a piece of himself, not what was essentially his identity. “I’d want you with me...sometimes it’s unsafe though. In that case it’d be difficult to be separated but you’d still have me, this part of me, and we’d make it. I’d come back to you.” Loved ones could go with you, most of the time, and make a home on base with the rest of the service families. But in warzones? It wasn’t possible. There were those long separations, tours that took months, where every day that passed was agonizing. Everytime the phone rang you jumped a little, hoping and praying it wasn’t that call. The one delivering life-shattering news. He kissed her again, wrapping his arms around her to easily give a cuddle and potential transport. “You want to binge on that marathon and these crack whips now?” Even though she was confident in his abilities of survival, Leliana would rather not think about him in battle - being out there in the thick of it, where she couldn’t follow? At least in her clandestine network where she went, he went. She controlled the playing field. Most of the time she controlled the players themselves; moving the pieces where she wanted them, manipulating it her way. Not having that control was...rather unsettling. All things that could be analyzed over and over, then beaten with a hammer. The night was still young and she brushed those thoughts off, swinging her legs over his lap and scooting closer. Gale was more than welcome to provide that easy transport. “And I would always come get you if need be,” she promised, rubbing their noses in that affection eskimo kiss gesture. “Though if you miss Jack so much, perhaps we could always watch the Titanic? You might weep a little.” He grinned at the mention of Titanic, because how funny was that? Kind of in a morbid way, like, hey - here’s what you dream about and relived on a big screen for everyone and their mom to see. Jack just took it all in stride though, which Gale had to give him credit for. “I might ruin my makeup, if I sob,” he teased, scooting Leli off the counter and into his arms, with her legs hooked around his waist - he carried her into the living room this way, then would go back for his own Crack Whip (official new name now, very fitting). No, they’d totally stream some kind of Nicholas Sparks marathon (a popular choice after bad dreams and such) and that was fine with him. As long as the rest of the day was quiet and void of disaster, that was really all Gale could ask for. Leliana made sure his face was positively ambushed by an onslaught of kisses - forehead, nose, mouth, chin - all while he made their way into the homey living room of all things too soft, glass bird figurines and lavender scents. The dog tags jingled together too, like windchimes around her neck. There wouldn’t be a time where she didn’t wear them; this place was more likely to get them separated than the military. At least that way she would have him, always. |