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Post by Thalo December on Mar 22, 2013 22:15:59 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 1em; -moz-border-radius: 1em; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2wom9du.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] Sometimes I wish for falling, Wish for the release I’ll dance with myself, I drunk myself down, Found people to love, Left people to drown, I'm not scared to jump, I'm not scared to fall, there was nowhere to land, I wouldn't be scared at all…
Her mind was still and nearly silent, and her body felt stiff and tired even though she'd only just woken up. Her memory felt cloudy and distant. She wondered vaguely how she'd gotten there and glanced around herself for a fourth time. Well, she was in the forest. She had a hatchet in one hand. There were two men she didn't know sleeping a few feet to her left. Thirty feet in front of her was a mound of carrion and flies that she supposed was a corpse. A very large corpse.
It came back to her then what the man had said to her. "Just wake me if you see anything." Strange. She could recall the words, but not who exactly had said them to her nor how recently. Had she been sitting there long? She turned her head back to her left, moving slowly as if her joints hadn't moved in years. The closer one was black-haired. The other, she could just tell, had slightly lighter hair. His face was turned towards her, and she could see blood on it. Was he injured? She rotated slowly back to facing forward and looked back down at the hatchet. She hadn't hurt him, had she? A part of her knew that notion should have frightened her, but instead she felt nothing.
She could see a patch of herbs growing just beyond the large corpse and struggled to her feet without another thought. The action made the forest around her spin, and she nearly fell before gaining her balance. With it came a sense of clarity... and the pain. Her head was throbbing terribly. But, no, she could remember now. She'd been sitting there for about an hour. The lighter-haired one had given her the hatchet and told her to keep an eye out. For what, she couldn't remember him telling her. The corpse in front of her was the moose, of course, but she didn't remember it dying. Then again, she couldn't remember where the second man had come from at all.
Thalo walked slowly, her back and neck sore, presumably from the blow she'd taken from the moose. But moving began to loosen the muscles and brought her mind further clarity. She carefully crouched down over the herbs, feeling dizzy again for a moment. Setting the hatchet aside for a moment, she plucked some of the herb at the base of a stem and brought it closer to her face. Deerleaf, she remembered her grandmother calling it. It was named for its faintly sweet flavor that deer liked to eat. It was good for reducing swelling and fevers and preventing infection. A useful herb. She remembered hearing, though, that you had to eat a lot of it for it to work best. She plucked nearly the whole plant and stuffed the pockets of her dress.
She began returning to the sleeping figures, but stopped a short ways from them. Now would be the best time to return to the Base. She didn't know either of these men; they could be murderers or rapists for all she knew. But she cast another glance down at the hatchet in her hand. Why would they arm her if they intended to hurt her? Plus, the lighter-haired one had apparently trusted her enough not to kill and rob them. For that, she decided to stay at least a little longer. If one of them woke, she'd tell them what the deerleaf was good for, thank them for saving her, and head back home.
With this plan in mind, she sat back down again next to the smoldering remains of a fire and began covering it in tinder to build it back up gain.
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Post by Roger Gale on Mar 23, 2013 21:45:32 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;]BATTLE BORN cut from the cloth of a flag that bears the name He rarely dreamed anymore, but when he did, they generally didn’t make any sense at all. Roger must have groaned loudly in his sleep—he heard himself do it within his dream. What had he even been doing? The only detail he clearly remembered was getting crushed beneath a giant boulder in the dream. Roger tried to sit up, but his whole body still ached from his encounter with the moose. That damned moose. He smelled the carcass from where he was at. He blinked the bleariness away from his eyes and slowly lifted himself onto his elbows.
It was getting dark. Roger wasn’t sure how long they had been there. He glanced over at Tom, who had fallen asleep not too far away. He scratched his jaw as he tried to piece his vague memories together. He had been hunting that deer before the moose showed up… But before the moose there had been something else that distracted him.
The girl, he thought groggily. Was she still here? Roger narrowed his eyes through the darkness and tried to find the girl. If he recalled correctly, she had rather pale hair—he figured it would have been easy to spot. He looked around the premises and finally spotted her, sitting by the fire. His first reaction was one of confusion—had she been waiting there the whole time? She hadn’t taken off with any of their things, and the fact that she stayed around suggested that she wanted, or perhaps needed, something. However, she had some bandages on her—probably thanks to Tom. Roger knitted his brow as he thought about it.
His chest barely moved as he breathed shallowly. He began to wonder if his ribcage was ever going to repair itself. With a pained grunt, he fully sat up, contemplating how he was going to initiate conversation with the mysterious girl. Roger had never been so good at conversing with anyone, but especially not the kind that his father had only ever warned the boys about. Girls meant trouble. Girls knew how to mess with people’s heads. However, something about this girl seemed rather innocent.
He was sure she had noticed him by now, staring at her. He still didn’t know what to say. Awkwardly, he leaned forward and began to say something, but the pain in his side forced him to stop and cradle it. His side was still bruised from the moose. Wonderful.
“You’re still here,” Roger muttered between breaths, stating the obvious. He realized it just after he said it. His voice was quieter than normal—he was sure it had something to do with all of the pain he was bottling up. He winced and tried to move closer to the fire. He was about to freeze his balls off. “You all right?” |
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Post by Thalo December on Mar 24, 2013 18:55:13 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 1em; -moz-border-radius: 1em; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2wom9du.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] Sometimes I wish for falling, Wish for the release I’ll dance with myself, I drunk myself down, Found people to love, Left people to drown, I'm not scared to jump, I'm not scared to fall, there was nowhere to land, I wouldn't be scared at all…
One of them made a noise, and she jumped in surprise, the motion making the forest sway dizzily again. She closed her eyes for a moment to recover. When she opened them again, the black-haired one had sat up. She watched him warily, but, surprisingly, without fear. She recalled that this was the one who had intentionally stood between her and a massive attacking beast. She wouldn't go so far as to say she trusted him, but Thalo found she didn't fear him.
She could tell now that he wasn't in very good shape. His slow, labored movements suggested he'd been hit in the chest. Without looking at the wounds themselves, it was difficult to see how bad they were. He seemed to be in a fair deal of pain, but she knew some people had very low pain tolerances. Still, her head was throbbing quite painfully, so she guessed he was genuinely injured badly. She glanced from his face to his chest. If she could see the wound, she might be able to help some. Still, she doubted either of them properly trusted each other, and letting a stranger pressed plants into your fresh injury took a great deal of trust. So she stayed quiet for the time being.
"You're still here." She didn't reply. It wasn't a question, but a statement. She wondered if perhaps he was as mentally foggy as she was. He certainly sounded like it. He moved closer to the fire, and she was surprised to find she didn't feel the urge to scoot a little in the opposite direction. Maybe she was starting to trust this guy after all (likely a bad decision).
"You all right?" he asked.
Thalo reached up and touched the bandage around her head. She cast a glance in the direction of the lighter-haired one as if to explain that he'd patched her up. She noticed for the first time that the two men were strikingly similar. Their hair was different colors, but their faces were quite a bit alike. "Your brother…" she began, making the connection between the two. "Did he kill it?" she asked, her voice as quiet as his. She didn't feel the need to specify what "it" was. She didn't remember when the lighter-haired one had appeared, let alone which of them had done in the moose.
She was silent a long moment, struggling with what she knew she must say next. Finally, unable to look at him, she muttered quietly, "Thank you for saving me." She glanced briefly back at his face to make sure he knew she was being sincere. Thalo wasn't certain what to say beyond that. Should she apologize that he got hurt? Or just get up and go home? (That was just wishful thinking, she knew her head was too messed up to walk the whole way home. Plus it was getting dark and she wasn't certain she knew the way.)
She did remember just a touch of her manners, though. "My name is Thalo," she told him, wrapping her arms around her knees and glancing once more between him and the fire.
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Post by Roger Gale on Mar 25, 2013 9:55:48 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;]BATTLE BORN cut from the cloth of a flag that bears the name Roger had to refrain from chuckling dryly at this girl’s reactions to… well, everything. If laughing didn’t hurt so badly, he might have. She just seemed so lost and confused. Apparently not having the words for him yet, she simply turned her direction toward Tom. His brother must have bandaged her up, or at least cleaned some of her wounds up. When she finally spoke, Roger found that her voice sounded exactly like he thought it might—quiet and calm. It was the first time he’d heard it since encountering her in the forest, he thought.
What surprised him was that she knew Tom was his brother. He felt an immediate sense of relief that there was no need for him to explain. Roger nodded his head offhandedly to answer her question, looking in the direction of the moose carcass himself. “Yeah,” he muttered casually. Then, for some reason, he added with a slight smirk, “He’s good with a bow, isn’t he?” Usually he didn’t like opening up to new people because he couldn’t trust them. But this girl hadn’t given him any reason to suspect her of anything yet. Maybe she could stick around for a little while longer, as long as she didn’t get in the way.
And then her super quick “Thank you for saving me”—Roger had no idea what to say in response to her. When she looked up at him, he immediately felt the urge to look away, but he held her eyes for the brief moment she looked at him. He glowered at the fire and thought. A man sees a girl in danger of a moose charge in the forest… Shouldn’t he at least try and help her? That’s what Roger thought. Then again, if he had simply continued on his merry way in the other direction, he might have made it out of there unscathed and with a full stomach of deer meat. However, he felt a pang of guilt at the thought of leaving such a defenseless woman alone to fight off such a large creature. He was somewhat glad that he stuck around, and even more grateful that Tom showed up.
When he realized that he hadn’t said anything in response, he tripped over his words. “I didn’t do much,” he said gruffly after clearing his throat. “Thank my brother.” It was true. He hadn’t done too much to help the poor girl. Well, he did serve as a decent meat-shield, he supposed, taking the hit from the charging moose. Otherwise he served as a fine distraction until Tom showed up. He promised himself that he’d take on the next pissing moose that he saw, with an arrow straight to the throat.
My name is Thalo.
Roger looked up at her again, though she wasn’t looking directly at him. It took him a moment to register that she had introduced herself. Thalo, she’d said. That was easy enough to remember. He said it once or twice in his head before nodding his head at her. “Nice name,” he mentioned quietly. Then he pointed a thumb at himself. “'m Roger.” When things got quiet between them again, his gaze bore into the fire, suddenly feeling the dull pain return. All of their conversation helped distract him from his bruised ribs—he figured he’d keep talking.
“So, Thalo,” Roger began, using her name so that it would stick. “Where’d you come from?” He imagined that she wasn’t from around here. Not many people would wander the forest without something to protect themselves with. “You lost?”
LYRICS. Flesh and Bone by The Killers
WORDS. 594
NOTES. They're so awkward, LOL |
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Post by Thalo December on Mar 25, 2013 21:55:56 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 1em; -moz-border-radius: 1em; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2wom9du.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] Sometimes I wish for falling, Wish for the release I’ll dance with myself, I drunk myself down, Found people to love, Left people to drown, I'm not scared to jump, I'm not scared to fall, there was nowhere to land, I wouldn't be scared at all…
She felt both faintly wary and curious about this dark-haired stranger. She couldn't read the expression on his face. Well, she could tell when pain flickered over his features, but not the other expressions. His actions implied he didn't find her a threat, but at times she could feel his eyes on her. Thalo was confused how to act around him. He was both her savior and a complete stranger. Instinct told her to avoid strangers at all costs, but he'd already proven he had no intention of hurting her. Well, at least not yet. She had been wrong about people before…
She happened to be looking at him when they spoke of his sleeping brother. "He's good with a bow, isn't he?" She couldn't quite tell if he said that with a tone of pride or amusement. She wondered how she would feel if Jory or Sam had saved her life. Pride? Relief? Probably just worry. Then again, she doubted a year had transformed her young brothers into warriors like these two.
He held her gaze when she thanked him, and Thalo decided at that moment that she would risk it and trust him. The fire light reflected in his eyes, but she could faintly tell they were blue. He diverted her gratitude onto the sleeping brother. As if in response, the lighter-haired one let out a quiet snore and pulled his blanket closer around his shoulders without waking. The girl glanced between them once more. They looked suited for this place. Perhaps it was the blood on the sleeping one's face, but she could tell they were far hardier than she was. She remembered he had just downed a deer before the moose appeared. They were fully capable of downing their own food. In her time alone, Thalo had grown used to eating nuts and plants, but meat had always been scarce for her. It seemed strange, but the apocalypse suited these two. She'd never met anyone before who seemed at home in the broken world around them.
His name was Roger. It seemed faintly familiar to her, like she'd met someone with the name before or read a book about a character with that name. But she couldn't recall exactly. She wondered if it was a common name. She'd never met anyone named Thalo before, but she'd met a handful of Sams on her lonely journey. Many of the faces in her mind had begun to blend together. She could no longer tell who had been friend and who had been foe. Which had she met where? The faces of the Residents were far clearer in her mind, although she had only spoken to a small portion of them. They all seemed very different, but she knew at least that she could trust them. So long as she labored away in the mine, they would be there with food and a warm bed.
She nearly jumped again when he spoke, torn from her thoughts. Without thinking, she responded, "I'm from the ocean." It only took her a heartbeat to realize how unintelligible that sounded. She blushed faintly. "That way," she pointed her finger due southeast. No matter where she was, she always knew which direction home was. Perhaps it was a good thing. If she ever wanted to go back, she'd know which direction to head. But she didn't want to dwell to dwell on that; it would mean a long, lonely journey home to what could very well still be an empty house.
"I live at the Base, over there," she pointed more directly south. "Just beyond the edge of the forest," she added. She could guess by how readily his brother had made camp here that they were travelers. That would explain their dusty, unkempt appearances. "Are you two nomadic?" she asked quietly.
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Post by Roger Gale on Mar 26, 2013 16:10:27 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;]BATTLE BORN cut from the cloth of a flag that bears the name Roger began to wonder if he looked intimidating to other people. He honestly hoped so—that could only help him if he encountered anyone dangerous. But the way this girl reacted to him made him think about it. She looked so nervous and scared that Roger wondered if she had seen a man before in her life. Perhaps not. He himself had seen a limited number of girls in his lifetime, but he wasn’t really looking.
He chuckled aloud when she stated where she was from, “I’m from the ocean.” He couldn't help it, even though it hurt to do so. He even had to resist the urge to tease her. The way she said it and blushed so discreetly afterwards was endearing. Roger glanced in the direction in which her finger pointed—south. Southeast, rather. It must have been some distance away if she lived near an ocean. He couldn’t smell it in the wind. Not knowing what to say, he simply nodded at her, until she mentioned some “Base.”
“The Base?” he interjected, without much thought. Roger was sure that he had seen it, but he wasn’t entirely familiar with it. He’d heard from various strangers that it was some group of kids living in some shack fort. It didn’t sound entirely appealing to the hunter, who preferred living on his own, and occasionally with his brother. “That’s just a group of kids up there, right? Living together?”
He leaned forward slightly to hear the second part of her question. Thalo’s voice was very soft—even quieter than his, at the moment. “Us?” Roger clarified. He kicked himself internally for sounding so stupid. He hated conversation. “Uh, yeah. You could say that. My brother and I, we… We move around a lot.” He scratched his jaw in thought, unable to come up with anything else. It was true enough—the boys had been nomads for a while now. It was hard to picture a life living on the mysterious Base and not hunting for your own food and defending yourself from others.
Roger cleared his throat and looked at Tom, who was still sleeping. He smirked. The kid must have really knocked himself out fighting off that moose.
A sudden thought came to his head, and he couldn’t help but voice his concern. He looked at Thalo again, furrowing his eyebrows as he stewed over it, “The people on the Base... They sent you out here alone?” It seemed a little careless of them. They didn’t even give her a weapon to fight with, or someone to go with her.
LYRICS. Flesh and Bone by The Killers
WORDS. 432
NOTES. ROLO |
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Post by Thalo December on Mar 31, 2013 20:20:19 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 1em; -moz-border-radius: 1em; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/2wom9du.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] Sometimes I wish for falling, Wish for the release I’ll dance with myself, I drunk myself down, Found people to love, Left people to drown, I'm not scared to jump, I'm not scared to fall, there was nowhere to land, I wouldn't be scared at all…
A part of her wanted to like him. The way he chuckled at her mistake reminded her at once of her father, and Thalo felt herself struggling not to feel instantly fond of the young man before her. She reminded herself that she didn't know anything about him. It was one thing to trust him; after all, he'd saved her life. But liking him was another story altogether. She realized that she didn't even like most of the Residents. (That wasn't to say that she disliked them.) There was Alexander, of course, of whom she was very fond. But he was little more than a child, and he reminded her so fiercely of her brothers. The others at the Base, though. She was kind to them and trusted them, but none of them were her friends… She'd never really had friends before at all, really. She'd grown up with her family, and after leaving them, she hadn't had time to stop and get to know anyone. Maybe that was why it was so foreign to her that she found amusement in Roger. She struggled silently, careful not to let any of it show on her face.
She was glad when he spoke; it was a welcome distraction from her thoughts. Thalo nodded slowly in response. That was the just of the Base, she supposed. They were all just kids. There was more to it, though. They worked together and relied on one another. It seemed mature, despite the fact that there were almost no actual adults. "We take care of each other," she replied, meeting his eye once more.
She was curious to hear what his life was like, living with his brother. Her travels had been lonely and fraught with danger. With these two, though, she supposed they didn't always have to live in fear. They probably had all sorts of exciting adventures that would have ended in disaster if she'd been in their place. She watched him scratch his chin and offer a short answer. Well, that didn't sound nearly as exciting as she would have hoped… Maybe their lives were actually really boring.
While he looked towards his brother, she took the opportunity to look at Roger more. His hair was as dark as raven's down, and she could just see that his eyes were a lighter color. Blue? Green? The firelight cast strange shadows across his face, but it only made him seem even more hardy. Thalo turned her eyes away again before she could be caught staring.
“The people on the Base... They sent you out here alone?”
Thalo felt as if she'd been hit by another moose. Cold realization ran over her. She wasn't a scout, and she wasn't supposed to go out without one. This rule had previously seemed overbearing, but now she wished she had listened. Not only had she put herself in grave danger, two people could have gotten killed defending her. Roger obviously had a chest injury, and the other one's face was covered in blood. And it was entirely her fault.
"No," she managed to reply, her voice becoming hoarse. "That was my own stupidity." Before she could stop herself, a tear ran down her cheek, and Thalo found there was no way she could meet his eyes now.
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Post by Roger Gale on Apr 3, 2013 19:32:53 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;]BATTLE BORN cut from the cloth of a flag that bears the name Taking care of each other. So that’s what they did up there. Roger assumed it was something like that—some communal daycare. He had no interest in visiting the place, and especially not joining it. He had the suspicion that he would put more effort into the Base than anything he could receive by being a part of it. Not to mention that he would technically be in their debt for taking him in. No, no, he thought earnestly. Roger much preferred wandering alone and occasionally with Tom. How could he possibly be a decent caretaker for anyone on the Base?
After he asked his question, he saw Thalo’s emotion clearly on her face before he heard it in her voice. She must have felt guilty—of what, Roger wasn’t entirely sure. While he felt like she owed him a favor previously, his mind was changed by her innocent appearance and demeanor. He would feel guilty asking anything of the poor girl. His eyes scanned her face and he felt his gut wrench.
She was crying. At least, he thought he could see a tear on her cheek. Was she hurt? Or just sad? He almost never cried, but when he did it was because he was in a lot of pain. Roger didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have the slightest idea of what to say in response to her. Was going out unarmed in the forest a stupid idea? Well, it wasn’t the brightest plan. But he couldn’t exactly tell her that, and especially not when she looked so guilty over it. Roger furrowed his eyebrows as he fished for something to say. His mouth opened once, but he closed it again when he thought on it for a few extra moments.
“Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself,” he mumbled, looking her in the eyes again. He gently shifted toward her, but he stopped when the dull pain returned. Roger winced and tried to hide it behind a smirk. “Sometimes… Well, sometimes moose attack, y’know?” Wow. Good one, wise guy. Roger nearly smacked himself for sounding like such an idiot. “I mean, uh… How were you supposed to know a moose would be out here?” he quickly added.
It was true enough. After all, he himself had gone into the woods with plenty of weapons, and he still got mauled by the moose. It was nearly impossible for him to predict what the forest would hold in store for him on a given day—it was impossible for anyone. He couldn’t really blame the girl for wandering the woods alone, despite the fact that it was his gut reaction to do so. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and his face returned to his pondering scowl.
“Is someone coming to fetch you?” Roger asked curiously. Of course, it would be best for Thalo to wait until it was light out again, but even then he still felt the slightest ounce of concern. For some reason, he felt fond of the girl already. “It’ll be dangerous to go back alone.”
LYRICS. Flesh and Bone by The Killers
WORDS. 513
NOTES. I'm laughing so hard at Roger right now, hahaha |
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Post by Thalo December on Apr 26, 2013 20:31:13 GMT -8
| [atrb=style,height:12px;] | | [atrb=style,background: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/14kdz61.jpg);,bTable][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; -moz-box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; -webkit-box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; width: 420px;,bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=border,0,bTable] | [atrb=style,width: 390px; border: 3px solid #87b8bb; background-color: #eae8e4;]❝ it was not your fault but mine and it was your heart on the line ❞ There was a silence between them, and she thought he must be angry. She knew that she would feel angry if someone's stupidity nearly got either of her brothers killed. She stared down into the fire, wishing she could sink into the earth below her and disappear.
"Hey, don't be too hard on yourself." She looked up at him in surprise. To her shock and relief, there didn't appear to be any trace of anger in his face. (At that moment, Thalo decided to let herself like him; just a little couldn't hurt, could it?) Instead he looked uncertain, although she couldn't tell of what. He spoke again, and she noticed for the first time that he seemed to be struggling to find the words to say. Was it possible that he was as uncertain of how to act as she was? It didn't seem possible that there was another person out there as socially deprived and awkward as she was, but by the look on his face, she might have met her match.
She let her guilt dissolve just a little. What he said made sense. Neither of them could have known there would be a crazy moose in the forest. If she had, Thalo definitely would have stayed back at the Base. She realized that after a near-fatal encounter with a massive beast, the mines didn't seem so terrible anymore. At the very least, she'd gone out into the forest with good intentions: collecting herbs that would both flavor food and help heal. And Roger had simply come to hunt. For a second, she wondered if he encountered moose often. She quickly decided it was unlikely. If anyone did, it was probably the unconscious brother; he was the only one of them who had handled the situation well.
"Is someone coming out to fetch you?" Roger asked, drawing her from her thoughts once more. Frowning faintly, she shook her head. It was a sad but true thought that no one would have noticed her absence had the moose killed her. Okay, perhaps Alexander would have noticed that she was gone, but no one would have gone and looked for her. They would have just assumed she'd left, off again to find her family. Perhaps, if she had been really lucky, a scout would find her body in the forest and give her a proper burial. With a shudder, Thalo pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. What an awful death that would be. "I'll have to go back on my own," she said, trying to sound confident as she said it. Who knew, maybe she'd get mauled by some other forest creature on the way. Glancing past the fire into the darkness, though, she realized how foolish it would be to leave right away. "I… I might have to wait until morning. If it's alright," she added quickly. A faint blush settled over her cheeks, and she hoped he couldn't notice. What would her father think if he heard she spent the night alone with two boys in the forest?
She didn't want to be a burden on them, so she quickly added, "If I say, I could take a look at your wound." Reaching down to the pocket of her dress, she tugged free some of the Deerleaf. "I know a little bit of healing," she continued quietly. She doubted her skill was great enough to make much of a difference, but she thought perhaps she could make some tea from the herb; it might dull his pain enough to sleep.
notes:: finallllllly posting!
music:: little lion man - mumford & sons
credit:: konya
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Post by Roger Gale on Apr 26, 2013 21:26:05 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;]BATTLE BORN cut from the cloth of a flag that bears the name Whatever the girl had been thinking about, it didn’t look good. Roger watched as Thalo pulled her cloak tighter around her and seemed to get lost in whatever she was pondering. “I’ll have to go back on my own.” She sounded like she was resolute in her plan, but she didn’t look the part. Roger had feared that was going to be her answer. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, holding back his initial thought: You’ll get killed. His gut dropped and he looked into the fire again, swallowing hard at the thought of it.
His mind reeled for a moment. It was true enough, it was dangerous for anyone to walk alone through the forest, but that wasn’t what gnawed at him. Roger had never trusted someone so blindly before, nor wanted to put himself on the line if it meant helping them. Thalo was so unlike others that Roger had encountered in the area. She was honest, and innocent—sure, she was naïve, but she seemed trustworthy.
Who was this girl? This girl who appeared out of nowhere in the middle of a forest?
In the midst of his thoughts, Thalo piped up with something Roger hoped she would say. He looked up at her and nodded his head solemnly. Yes. It would certainly be better if she waited until morning. He cleared his throat when he realized he hadn’t said anything in response to her. “Mm, yeah. Morning would be best. When it’s light out.” Thalo had blushed—her skin was so pale that he noticed it even in the dark. Roger wasn’t entirely sure why her cheeks went pink, but he had a guess.
At her offer, Roger’s spirits lifted slightly. He knew a little about healing plants, but only enough to staunch blood flow and clean wounds up. Nothing like easing pain or anything fancy. The plant in her hand looked familiar. “That’d be good. I’d owe ya,” he mumbled. Roger carefully pulled at his shirt and lifted it up and over his head. The cold hair felt surprisingly good on his wounds—he even let out a quiet sigh of relief. “It still stings, just a little.” It hurt more than just a “sting,” but he couldn’t tell that to Thalo. “Tom must’ve patched it up.”
He felt slightly vulnerable (and his pride was only slightly wounded), letting Thalo tend to him in such a fashion, but he was sure that she knew more about healing plants than he did. And what harm could she do, anyway? Well, there were a few harmful things that came to Roger’s mind, but the girl looked like she wouldn’t even want to hurt a fly.
“Hey,” he began, rather seriously. “I’ll walk you to the Base tomorrow, to pay you back for the treatment.” Roger didn’t like being indebted to people for very long, even new acquaintances, and it would put his mind at ease, anyway. As long as they didn’t encounter any moose, they’d be golden. At least, he hoped—Roger couldn’t afford to look so weak in front of anyone ever again.
LYRICS. Flesh and Bone by The Killers
WORDS. 519
NOTES. omg post layout envy (OuO) |
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Post by Thalo December on Apr 26, 2013 22:31:20 GMT -8
| [atrb=style,height:12px;] | | [atrb=style,background: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/14kdz61.jpg);,bTable][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; -moz-box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; -webkit-box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; width: 420px;,bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=border,0,bTable] | [atrb=style,width: 390px; border: 3px solid #87b8bb; background-color: #eae8e4;]❝ it was not your fault but mine and it was your heart on the line ❞ She tried to read his face to see what was going on in his head, but his expression was mostly unintelligible to her. For a brief moment she thought she saw something like surprise or fear flicker over his features, but then it was gone again as quickly as it had come. She wondered faintly if she had always been this terrible at reading people or if she'd gotten decidedly worse at it after spending so much time alone. He appeared somewhat relieved when she offered to wait until morning. She had meant her statement as a question, asking his permission, but Roger hadn't caught on to that. Or if he had, he didn't comment further.
He agreed to let her take a look at his wound and went to remove his shirt. She noticed how carefully he moved, and hurried closer to help if necessary. Even before she could see the wound itself, Thalo guessed he might have a fever. The cold air seemed to bring him a sense of relief. To her, the evening air was nothing short of cold. "It still stings, just a little," he told her, although she suspected it either hurt plenty or he had a really high pain tolerance. She maneuvered herself so she wasn't blocking the light from the fire and took a look.
His chest was turning purple. Even in the dim light, she could see the bruises developing quickly. He had a single small gash on his abdomen, but the worst of it seemed higher up. Where the skin wasn't turning purple, it was a shade of angry red. It had begun swelling. Thalo guessed he had a broken rib or two. Awkwardly, with a quick glance at his face again, she touched his chest with one pale hand, careful to avoid the worst spots. His skin felt intolerably warm, but she couldn't tell if that was because he was feverish or her hands were just really cold. Determined to decide one way or another, she move her hand to his forehead before she had a chance to be embarrassed. He did seem warm.
Frowning, she removed her hand and moved back a little. "The swelling's looking a little bad, and you might have a fever," she told him, her voice quiet again. From her pocket, she pulled free more Deerleaf. "Some tea might help," she added. Next to the fire, she spotted a small pan that must have belonged to the sleeping brother. It had some residue in the bottom, presumably from cooking some meat. Leaving Roger's side, Thalo took it by it's metal handle and took a few steps away from the fire. "I have to go get some water," she told him, saying nothing of the hatchet she'd taken into her other hand.
notes:: so fucking cute
music:: little lion man - mumford & sons
credit:: konya
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Post by Roger Gale on Apr 27, 2013 8:26:51 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;]BATTLE BORN cut from the cloth of a flag that bears the name Roger didn’t follow Thalo’s gaze as she looked over his wounds. Instead, he kept his gaze on her, to see how she worked. At first she seemed reluctant to touch him—probably because of his nakedness, and not his ghastly wound. She looked incredibly focused as she touched his chest with her chilly fingers, inspecting him carefully. He suspected that Thalo had some kind of training in medicine before, because she hadn’t flinched or blanched at all upon seeing his wound. Perhaps she was a nurse at the Base, or something like that. He thought of asking her, but he didn’t suppose it was any of his business.
Thalo put her hand on Roger’s forehead. It wasn’t until then that he noticed how warm he felt, even in the cold air. He wasn’t sure how much of that had to do with his growing fever, or the fact that his brain at last realized that Thalo was touching him. Her soft hand felt nice on his forehead. For that split second, he completely ignored his pain and the cold, and he held her gaze. He wanted to say something, if not only to break the silence. But by the time he found the words, she had already retracted her hand. Roger frowned.
He watched as she pulled more of the familiar plant from her pocket. “Some tea might help,” she said. Roger tried not to groan aloud—he hated tea. Especially the kind that he managed to brew up whenever he had stomach pains. Something about boiled leaves never sounded delicious. But Thalo seemed to know what she was talking about, so Roger took it upon himself to trust her judgment. If tea would calm his fever and dull the pain, then he was ready to drink a whole bowl. When she got up and grabbed the pan, he said nothing, but when she mentioned that she was going out to fetch water, he scowled with concern. “Wait, Thalo,” he stammered under his breath. The nearest creek couldn’t have been too far, Roger remembered passing it before encountering the moose, but it was still too dark for Thalo to venture out on her own. She must not have heard him, because she was already on the search for water.
Then his eye caught the hatchet she carried in her other hand, and Roger stopped. He smirked and sighed gently—there wasn’t much he could do to convince a girl with a hatchet to stay put. This girl, Roger thought to himself. Still, he managed to lift himself up and hobble after her. “Come back,” he said through the darkness. Then he added in a harsh whisper, “Thalo!” When he didn’t hear a reply, he cursed under his breath. Just like that, she had vanished. He frowned and leaned against the tree, reaching for the knife at his side.
If he went after her, he wasn’t sure how helpful he would be, but he knew he would feel guilty for staying put if something happened. After realizing that he was about to go running into the dark forest wielding a small knife and wearing nothing but his pants and boots, Roger hesitated. Then, without another thought, he dashed for his abandoned shirt and snatched his bow and quiver from the ground before taking off after Thalo.
LYRICS. Flesh and Bone by The Killers
WORDS. 555
NOTES. in which Thalo thoroughly impresses and befuddles Roger |
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Post by Thalo December on Apr 27, 2013 13:50:55 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0px,true][atrb=cellpadding,0px,true][style=float: left; width: 250px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; padding: 5px; height: 200px; overflow: auto;]Tom was drifting through what seemed to an endless plain of sleep, dreams coming and going so quickly that he had no time to remember them. Even entirely unconscious, he was vaguely aware that his head hurt like hell and that seemed to only make his dreams stranger.
Without fully realizing why, he opened his eyes. The dark of the waking world seemed like only another dream. He could see the flickering light of a fire not far away, but he couldn't recall having started it himself. There was another sound nearby, a voice he guessed. Turning his head only a little, he caught sight of his brother hobbling off into the darkness shirtless. Yup, this was definitely a dream.
Without sitting up, Tom scowled. "Roger! Get th' fuck back over here," he growled drowsily. His head hurt too much to remember what had happened, but he was for some reason feeling more protective than usual. But not too protective, because if Roger didn't come back on his own, Tom sure as hell wasn't getting up to go after him. This was just a dream, after all. Roger would walk off in this dream and walk back into another.[/style] [style=margin-top: 6px; width: 100px; height:100px; float:right; font-size: 7pt; font-family: calibri; font-weight: bold; text-align: center; border: 5px solid #fefefe]
[style=background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px]SLEEPY TOM[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px]SHORT POST[/style] [style=margin-top: 5px; background-color: #dfdfdf; padding: 2px]© MOO OF OTE[/style][/style] |
-- | [atrb=style,height:12px;] | | [atrb=style,background: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/14kdz61.jpg);,bTable][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; -moz-box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; -webkit-box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; width: 420px;,bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=border,0,bTable] | [atrb=style,width: 390px; border: 3px solid #87b8bb; background-color: #eae8e4;]❝ it was not your fault but mine and it was your heart on the line ❞ She could hear him not far behind calling her name, but didn't look back. She was feeling faintly dizzy again, but tried breathing deeply to steady herself. Surely there was a stream around her somewhere. Faintly, she could remember hearing the sound of running water nearby when she'd been looking for herbs. The more she thought of water, the more aware she became of how dry her throat felt. Yes, some water would be very nice.
She kept her grip on the hatchet tight. Despite her fogginess, she felt hyper aware of the forest around her, flinching at the sound of her own footsteps. If anything was out there… She hoped it would't come near. Not only did she hate the thought of having to kill an innocent animal, Thalo also had no clue how she was supposed to defend herself with a hatchet. If she threw it at something, she only had one shot. But if she wanted to swing it, she'd have to let her attacker get awfully close first. How on earth did Roger fight with that thing? Still, she didn't loosen her grip. A barely useful weapon was better than none at all.
It only took her a few minutes to spot a small stream up ahead. She found it very shallow with thick plants growing along the edge. She had to follow along its edge for a few yards to find a spot where the water was deep enough to fill the pan without also filling it with muck. Thalo knelt as close to it as she could without getting her skirt wet. Reluctantly, she set the hatchet aside and slid her hands into the water. It was still very cold, but she raised some of it to her face, hoping it might stave off her dizziness. As it ran down her cheeks, she shuddered, pressing her hands into her eyes with a sigh. There was fabric under her finger, though, and she reached up to touch it in confusion. She realized (for a second time) that there was a bandage tied around her head. With careful hands, she unwound it and pulled the fabric away from her head. It was covered in blood. So that was why her head hurt so much. Thalo cleaned away as much of the blood as she could, leaning over the stream to rub the clothe against itself.
She didn't think the stream was very loud, but it must have masked other sounds, because the girl suddenly froze at the sound of breathing right next to her ear. Thalo held intensely still, her hands growing numb in the cold water. Something was sniffing her hair, a muzzle of some sort ruffling her pale locks. Without moving her head, she strained her eyes forward and could just barely see a pair of paws on the other side of the stream. They were a little smaller than her palm and colored a reddish brown. After a tense moment, the creature apparently found her uninteresting and began to move away. Only then did Thalo allow herself to slowly raise her head and grasp for the hatchet. The creature was a dog, and it wasn't alone.
A handful of feral-looking dogs moved through the forest nearby, bumping against each other as they jumped with ease over the small stream and continued forward with purpose. The reddish one who'd sniffed her jumped to follow them without glancing back at her. She noticed the almost cute way its floppy ears bounced as it landed. She'd seen wild dogs a few times before. You always had to be very careful with them. They weren't like wolves, who would leave you alone if you left them alone. Some of the dogs were kind and had previously lived with humans, but others had been beaten by people before and were mean and rabid. Some, like these it seemed, were simply wild animals looking for food.
Without taking her eyes off the animals, Thalo filled the pan with water and stood carefully to avoid spilling it. She swallowed nervously. The creatures seemed to be heading for Roger and his brother. She tried to hurry after them, some of the water sloshing onto her skirt. As she neared, though, she saw the dogs glance nervously between her and the fire and shy away. Several of them grabbed the skeletal remains of the deer and began dragging it away. Thalo moved past them as quietly as she could, trying to appear unthreatening. The reddish dog watched her with sharp gold eyes until she ducked around a tree and reentered the firelight.
She let out a shaky sigh of relief, but offered no explanation to Roger. If he couldn't see the dogs out there, there was no point worrying him. As long as they kept the fire going, they probably wouldn't have any trouble. As she stepped back over to the fire, Thalo saw that the lighter-haired brother had woken, or a least partially. He gave her a short scowl, then muttered a few profanities and pulled his blanket back over his head.
Back by the fire, Thalo put the pan in the flames and began ripping up the Deerleaf to hide the fact that her hands were shaking.
notes:: lolololol
music:: such great heights - the postal service
credit:: konya
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Post by Roger Gale on May 1, 2013 12:02:15 GMT -8
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,480,bTable] | [atrb=style, background-color: #1A1A1A; border-radius: 35px;]BATTLE BORN cut from the cloth of a flag that bears the name ‘Roger, get the fuck back over here.’ It was Tom. He sounded like he could’ve been drunk. Roger wasn’t sure why, but he smirked in amusement. He was going to reply, but he was sure his brother was drifting in and out of sleep, and there was no use talking to him now. The kid wouldn’t have remembered it anyway.
Roger hobbled along the dark path, leaning against a tree here and there to support himself. Why was this girl so ready to run off into danger? Alone? With a hatchet she may or may not have known how to use? He had to admit that she was brave, at least. Foolish, but brave. A sharp pain shot through his abdomen as he lifted his arms to put his shirt back on, and he winced. He’d have to go without it. Luckily, it wouldn’t have to be for very long, because before he knew it, he saw Thalo rushing toward him, then past him, and she looked like she was in a hurry.
“Thalo?” he inquired. When she didn’t answer him, he turned on his heel and followed her to the fire, where she had already begun boiling the water she had collected. Roger heard Tom mutter something, and he rolled his eyes. He had a lot of explaining to do to his brother when he was fully awake. He still wasn’t sure if he could explain why he trusted Thalo, or why he wanted to make sure she was safe.
He scowled when he noticed her hands ripping up the plant. She may have been trying to hide it, but her fingers trembled slightly in her work. Roger looked back into the forest, wondering what she could have even encountered. Maybe she was just afraid of the dark, or being out there by herself. Perhaps she was cold, that seemed plausible… Christ, Roger, what does it matter? he argued to himself.
“Hey, you all right?” Roger began, sitting down next to her again. “Was there something out there?” He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pry an answer out of her. For a few moments, he simply watched her brew the tea. Then, in an attempt to lighten the mood, he chuckled and shot a quick glance at her. “You seemed pretty confident with that hatchet,” Roger joked. "Maybe you should hold onto it." Hopefully it was enough to get her mind off of whatever she had encountered in the forest.
After a moment, he looked at her again. He felt bad just sitting next to her, watching her work. “Hey, uh… Anything I can help with?”
LYRICS. Flesh and Bone by The Killers
WORDS. 432
NOTES. Roger sucks at this flirting thing |
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Post by Thalo December on May 2, 2013 14:19:32 GMT -8
| [atrb=style,height:12px;] | | [atrb=style,background: url(http://i52.tinypic.com/14kdz61.jpg);,bTable][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; -moz-box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; -webkit-box-shadow: 0px 0px 5px #989898; width: 420px;,bTable][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=border,0,bTable] | [atrb=style,width: 390px; border: 3px solid #87b8bb; background-color: #eae8e4;]❝ it was not your fault but mine and it was your heart on the line ❞ She felt him take a seat next to her, but didn't look up from the herb for a minute longer. She was silently freaking out a little. The water must have cleared her head a little because where before this all hadn't been too weird, but now the situation felt like a little too much. They'd just been mauled by a moose and now dogs and who knew what else were stalking through the forest around them. It took nearly all her strength not to burst out sobbing. She should have known better than to come this far north. Of course there were dangerous creatures lurking in the forests. Where she'd grown up, so long as you watched out for jellyfish and didn't go overturning rocks in summer, you'd be just fine. She realized now that was probably why her family had made their home there. But this place... Well, how did two brothers survive alone out here?
She'd missed his earlier words, but Thalo finally calmed down enough to hear him joking about the hatchet. "Maybe you should just hang onto it." She glanced over at him with a faint smile, but didn't mention that she'd probably end up accidentally killing someone if she carried a hatchet everywhere with her. The Deerleaf in her hands was pretty much shredded, so she dumped it into the pot of steaming water.
In the distance, she thought she heard a sound, and her head snapped up to look warily into the dark. There wasn't anything in sight besides the flickers of shadows cast by the fire. Thalo sighed and glanced sheepishly at Roger. "There are dogs in the forest," she admitted quietly and looked back out into the trees. "At least five." She hated to worry him, but if those beasts decided to attack, there was no way she'd be of much use. She almost suggested waking the brother, but it was pretty obvious he preferred to be left alone at the moment. (He was snoring quietly again.) For the time being, she kept the hatchet close at hand and stared down at the water in the pot. She knew drinking it would probably help with the pain in her head, but she worried it would make her too drowsy to stay awake all night.
Overhead, the sky had only just fallen fully dark. She drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders again. It was going to be a very long night.
notes:: sorry, sorta short :/
music:: the john wayne - little green cars
credit:: konya
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