Day 060: A Wounded Raccoon
Summary: Fayet accuses Luther of being like a raccoon, and offers to fight Nathaniel when he looks for a sparring partner.
Date: 27 July 2016
Related: None directly.
Luther Fayet Nathaniel 

Public Garden and Orchard, Tondc
The public gardens of Tondc inhabit a long, narrow strip of land between the marketplace and a narrow babble of the divided Potomac. They are divided up by narrow footpaths that have been here since before the bombs, and help create a variety of garden beds to host primarily edible plants. The garden is tended by the citizens of Tondc, which also means it provides for the citizens of Tondc. Those who work the gardens are given permission to harvest from the vegetables and fruits in exchange. Toward the back of the gardens, near the riverside, are many fruit-bearing trees that are heavy with apples and cherries in the summer and autumn months. Toward the midway point is the large building used for the Warrior Barracks — all crafted from stone, metal and wood.
60 Days After Landing

Luther is still healing from his wounds in the Mountain. And apparently, one of the healers from the healing house has decided that weeding the garden is good for healing. Or, they just want the gardens weeded and have some power over some of the warriors. If the latter is the case, then they're doing it wrong, because Luther is spending some time weeding, and also some time eating, like the tomato he plucks from a plant, polishes lightly on his shirt, and then takes a big bite out of it.

Training peas to grow on their trellises is usually a fairly straightforward task. But not this one. Not this stubborn, recalcitrant pea plant. Fayet grumbles, retying the scarf holding back her dreadlocks, before carefully trying to tie the troublesome plant in place. When she sees Luther just taking a bite out of a raw tomato, she wrinkles her nose. "I don't know how you do that," she says, shaking her head.

Luther chews the meat of the tomato, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then shrugs, "I like the taste. Plus, apparently it's good for you." He points down to the garden bed ahead of him, "Weeding, that is. The tomato just tastes good." Taking another bite of the tomato, he chews and swallows again, gesturing toward the trellis, "So… uh… that might be my fault. I was grazing there yesterday. I mean, weeding there yesterday." A grin flashes across his lips at the self-correction.

Fayet straightens up enough to cross her arms. "You did, did you?" she asks sternly, though her eyes twinkle with good humor. "And here I'd blamed it on a raccoon." She eyes him up and down. "The raccoons and getting bigger every year, it seems," she smirks. "Come on over here and help, raccoon. That tomato is all yours, though."

Luther picked the tomato at just the right time, since he can bite into it and let it hang from his mouth on the strength of the meat alone. He rises to his feet with a little groan, working his left arm as he moves over toward the other box bed. Kneeling down alongside it, he finally takes the bite out of the tomato, "I'm totally not a raccoon. I only have the eyes when I'm fighting."

Fayet chuckles. "I don't know. You kind of have the nose. Here," she says, indicating a portion of vine. "Hold it still so I can tie the twine." She cuts a small length of twine with her knife. "I have never liked raw tomatoes. They taste like… like blood and snot raw."

<FS3> Nathaniel rolls Alertness: Good Success. (1 7 5 6 8 1 1 4)

A wild Guard Sargeant appears! Or an off duty one at any rate. A giant 6'4 man in a sleeveless black shirt and short jeans walks along, his eyes going this way and that. It's fairly easy to tell the man keeps in excellent shape with the relatively light clothing, his arms easily borderline body-builder proportions. Right now though, his eyes are on the Gardens, and he only looks down in time to see the two in his path when he's about a dozen feet away. "Oh. I'm sorry. I was distracted by… well, all this." Nathaniel gestures about, "I'm… looking for a place called the training grounds?" Nathaniels deep baritone is easily heard from this distance, "I can just keep moving if you prefer. I'm sure I'll find it eventually."

Luther leans forward, starting to use his unwounded right hand to hold the vine as directed, and then reaching out with his left instead, wincing as he does. "<In Trigedasleng> Raccoons have cute noses," once more, Luther flashes a grin, brightening his features. The commentary on the taste of tomatoes, however, causes him to chuckle and shake his head, "<In Trigedasleng> Maybe that's why I like them." He looks over as the Skaikru appears, his smile and chuckle alike disappearing. "They are past the Warrior Barracks." He starts to look back to the peas, then grunts and looks back to Nathaniel, "Why do you look for the training grounds, Skaikru?"

Kai emerges from the healing house, shoulders stiff and expression schooled to neutrality, going from walk to jog as she heads off towards the Guest Village with the focus of a woman on a mission.

"<In Trigedasleng> Hmm. They do…" Fayet grins, shaking her head. At his comment about tomatoes, she makes an exaggerated face of disgust, sticking her tongue out. She doesn't say anything to the stranger, but she does eye him levelly.

"Seems like the Skaikru label is sticking." Nathaniel chuckles, "I prefer Arker myself, but it'll work." Then Nathaniel looks to Luther and gives a nod. "I'm looking to spar, see if I can find a partner interested in learning for one another and training. I'm a martial artist among the Guard and do instruction sometimes, and I'd love to learn some new techniques while I'm here. I'm Nathaniel." Since Fayet doesn't talk to him, she gets a warm smile and a nod before he looks back to Luther. "So, where is this Warrior Barracks, then?"

"You are a kru, yes? A clan? Then you need a clan name." Luther glances over to Fayet, shrugging a little, then looks back to Nathaniel, "'Arker'," the way he says the word, it sounds odd on his tongue, "is not a clan name." When the Guard describes his task, Luther shifts a little on his knees alongside the bed of pea vines, "Our best are wounded from facing the Mountain." He himself sports a bandage on his left arm, and the shirt is bulked out here and there by other bandages. "But if you seek a young warrior looking to test themselves, beyond the barracks." And he nods off to a large building to the north.

Fayet arches an eyebrow. "I thought your people were tired of fighting us," she says dryly. She stands up, brushing her hands on her pants. "I'll fight you," she says, the barest hint of a smirk on her face.

"I still like Arker better. Far as I know, we haven't gone under your system of government, so I don't see how your term Kru applies," Nathaniel observes. "Still, at least I know why it's so… normal… among you now." Nathaniel gives a grin, "well, I'll be around for a few days probably, so plenty of time for that." Then Fayet speaks up and he looks over. "I don't like to fight just to fight. I fight so that others don't have to, and to improve myself. Our people never wanted to fight any of the Trikru in the first place." Then Fayet volunteers, and Nathaniel nods, "I have plenty of time, if you're available. What's your name? I'm Nathaniel Breen."

Luther shrugs a little helplessly at Nathaniel's observations, "No matter who leads you, everyone needs a clan. To be clanless is to be nothing." He takes a bite out of a nearly-eaten tomato, chewing with a closed mouth as he chuckles at Fayet's offer. "You should talk to your young people then, Nathan-eel kom Skaikru. They seem to enjoy fighting. Each other, us, Reapers, the Mountain. Everyone." He sounds more amused by this than anything else.

The dreadlocked woman cracks her knuckles. "Over here," she says, heading to an area of the garden that is in a fallow rotation. "I want to see what you can do." She shifts her weight to the balls of her feet, grinning. She smirks at Luther. "<In Trigedasleng> It's not only their young people who want to fight anything that moves. I see pointless bloody noses more days than not."

Nathaniel watches her, then shrugs as he takes out sparring tape from his jeans, lifting it. "Do any of you use this stuff, or is it bare knuckles sparring?" Nathaniel moves over to the woman, waiting for an answer before he gets into position.

Luther finishes off the tomato, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm and then sitting back on his heels, "Take it to the training grounds. It would do no good for anyone to see a Skaikru fighting a Maker in the middle of Tondc." The words are mild, and the warrior looks up from beneath heavy lids, "We have enough skill to avoid damaging each other. Or enough sense not to fight when we cannot afford a split lip or a black eye." Looking back to Fayet, he chuckles, "<In Trigedasleng> And you may see one today. I wonder if they can fire a gun with an eye swollen shut."

Fayet rolls her shoulders back. "Indeed. To the training grounds, then?" she asks Nathaniel. She bats her eyes playfully at Luther. "<In Trigedasleng> I don't know. Now I want to know, and I'll do my best to make it happen. Coming to watch, raccoon friend?"

Nathaniel gives a nod, "I'm assuming you're insulting me in your language, but I don't mind. This stuff-" gestures to the tape, "-is designed so that you don't need to pull punches as much. It dulls the force and allows for technique to be used better." Nathaniel goes in the direction of the Warrior Barracks, "Ready when you are."

"Actually, she was calling me a raccoon, Nathan-eel kom Skaikru." Luther bares his teeth in a smile, and then looks back to Fayet, laughing easily, "Because I have a cute nose." Shifting his attention back to Nathaniel, he adds, "I would tell you not to look for insult where none is intended. But I don't think you would listen. It is a particular skill among the Skaikru." There's an insult, if a mild one. "No, Fayet, I think I will stay here and weed. If I go to the training grounds, I will be tempted, and I would not want to anger the healers more than is necessary by slowing my recovery."

Fayet sucks her teeth. "I thought you were fun, Luther," she teases. She walks back over to him, kissing one finger and pressing it to the tip of his nose. "Don't want to anger those healers. They might cauterize you longer out of spite." She turns back, jogging easily back over to Nathaniel. "Let's go, Nethenel kom Arrkurr," she says, purposely and dramatically mangling his name.

Luther wrinkles his nose at the press of Fayet's finger, laughing, "I am fun. Most people think I am too much fun, which is why I have to not piss off the healers in between having fun." He waves off the carpenter and the Skaikru, and bends back to his weeding.

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