Day 018: Smoke Break
Summary: The Coesbur dropship recon team camps for the night and smokes some weed.
Date: 31 May 2016
Related: The Destruction of Thripoda
Thesda Rinnan Arlin Wren Tuan Veks 


En Route to Coesbur
A temporary campsite somewhere between Coesbur and the obliterated village of Thripoda.
Day 18

At some point the group en route to the ship make the decision, however they come to it, to stop and make camp. It's maybe an hour, perhaps two, that hoofbeats, softer than normal but certain for a trained ear to hear come within range. The figure on the back of the horse may or may not be familiar, clinging low to the beast in the saddle. Lifting up, the softness of the horse's hooves is explained by the hoof sandals tied on the quadruped's feet to muffle their sound and provide traction. A trilling whistle, reminiscent of a bird cry is added to the noise; assurance that the scout on approach is from Coesbur. As the horse comes to a stop, Thesda dismounts, looking around to take in faces.

Rinnan stands next to a draft horse, named Horse, a dapple grey and black that was in no way made for stealth or cooperation. The familiar whistle of the scout by sound but not necessarily face or name, pulls her out of her concentrated effort to re-tie down a piece of wreckage pulled from the crash site. In the dim light of the camp site, it appears to be a metal fragment with the words DANGER: HYDRAZ in yellow paint on it. Rinnan pauses in her notice of Thesda, a slight cant of her head follows a slightly curious raise of her eyebrows before she looks on to the assembled group of campers for more recognition within the collective of the specific person joining them. "Hey," she offers quietly, in staid but friendly greeting to Thesda.

Seems that too many years in Polis have made Arlin soft. Exhibit A: he has a tent. It's a fairly nice one, too, of treated hides, and it looks like it could possibly accommodate two people; three if the third person were the size of a small child and everyone cuddled. Fortuitous, that, really, because there just so happens to be a little girl, maybe 4-years of age, who is hovering around him the way someone in desperate need of moorings does in a tumultuous sea of trauma.

Aldria, as it turns out is her name, has since been cleaned up (somewhat) to reveal her skin is a ruddy brown beneath all the soot and ash and dirt. When Thesda approaches, she huddles a little behind Arlin, who is busy tying off something or another to stabilize his sleeping accommodations. Instinctively, he loops an arm in front of the girl, protectively putting himself in the way while he peers up to assess the possible threat. Tired as he is, the lines of his face shift into something friendly and welcoming. "Wantoppa," he greets, before informing his itty-bitty human shadow, "That's Thesda. You'll like her." That assurance doesn't prevent the child from grasping the fabric of the medic's field jacket when he lowers his shielding arm.

Wren is taking his time training. By himself. His axe cuts the air in numerous swings, hitting an opponent that only he can see. It passes the time, keeps his edges sharp and honed. It's not exactly shadowboxing, but it does come close, going through what be considered more like katas than anything else. Not a lot going on with him, he's in training mode.

Roach, for his part, lifts his tail. And farts. Loudly.

Not likable is Tuan. Ok, well he may be likable but at the moment he is focused rather intensely on the horizon which he is surveying with steady eyes. Ever since they set up camp the youngest of the crew has taken it upon himself to be the sentry from the tree line. Plus it keeps him from having to talk to the others about what they've seen, what he has been silent about since seeing.

Thesda inclines her head to Rinnan amicably, and since Arlin's already said her name, no need to introduce herself. Thesda's not much of a talker unless it involves providing details in scouting reports. The aforementioned medic gets a smile, as she tilts to the side to espy the little girl. There's a soft, gentle huff, and she holds out her hand. "Ch-ch-ch." she tsks gently, as if luring a shy horse or dog. Only briefly does her head turn to consider Tuan, and whistles to get his attention. By extent, it will likely alert Wren to her presence as well.

"…Everything's okay?," Rinnan asks Thesda in a tone that seems to mostly expect that things probably are okay. Maybe? Whatever load tie-down there is to do has been done enough, as Rinnan pulls away from her horse and steps closer to the center of camp. Her own humble bedroll placed near whatever they've set up as a fire. She smiles briefly at Aldria, currently fighting a serious case of the shys behind Arlin, as she sinks to her knees and starts rooting through a saddle bag. There's another brief look, though, at Thesda in slight head canting consideration, a sort of 'oh so that's Thesda' air to it. Her shoulders spin slightly as she levers around at the waist looking for sight of Tuan.

The little girl is less shy than she is temporarily clingy, nestling closer to Arlin as she comes 'round enough to press her cheek against his arm. She is, after all, the sole survivor of her utterly annihilated village. Also, her kitten died. Bad day all around. Even so, she's clearly a curious sort, her brown eyes widening as she regards Thesda, intrigued by the noises the scout is making.

"She doesn't bite, sweetheart," Arlin tells the child, unthinkingly tacking on, "Well, actually-" Abruptly, he stops, realizing that he's talking to a four-year-old and that kind of innuendo isn't appropriate. And not because it's heresay. Quietly, he clears his throat, as if that will somehow destroy the evidence. "Go on, darlin'. Go say hi," he gently nudges, his expression emulating his words. It takes a moment, but Aldria tentatively steps forward, smiles as much as someone in her current circumstances can muster, and offers a soft, "Hi."

Hearing the whistle from Thesda, a sound that's been drilled into his mind over the years, Tuan starts to slide out of his perch having not even looked for its source initially. Climbing down, he lands softly on the ground and starts to walk to where he'd seen Thesda at previously, approaching her side to squat nearby her. "Everything looks alright, nothing on the horizon that I can see. No other scout parties and no sign of the Skaikru yet." After giving the report, he looks down upon Aldria from his squatted position, offering a small smile to the girl.

Lowering his axe, Wren passes by Roach while he places the weapon on his back, giving the horse a dirty look. Roach, in return /almost/ looks like he returns it. As if the warrior and animal have a love/hate relationship. Hence the farting likely. Or maybe the horse is just grumpy in general. A far cry from the usually jovial Wren. "Rinnan." he finally says, wiping sweat from his brow. "You brought your herb with you, yes?"

"Hello, Little Bit. I am Wantoppa." Thesda speaks low and carefully to the child, a brief look of inquiry cast upward Arlin's way, even as she holds her hand out to Aldria. Askance to Rinnan, she nods until she realizes that the other woman, crouched over her saddlebag, may be unable to see her. "Everything's alright." she assures, before noting to Tuan, "Skaikru don't have enough horses to all keep pace. I doubt you will see them come upon us, even if they walk through the night." A nod is offered to Wren.

Rinnan's hand, likely rousting around in her bag for the very thing Wren is asking for, goes very still. As does the rest of her. She sort of blanks out for a tic of a second, mouth pulling into a tense and expectant grim line. Well good times, you were awesome while you lasted. Send me a post card from Post-Apocalypse Aruba, would you? I'm sure it's still very nice there despite the apocalypse because nature has a terrible sense of humor.

She pulls in a short breath of air through her nose and then nods to Wren, even if he can't necessarily see the action. Her hand comes out of her bag and holds up rolled joint for his retrieval, even as Rinnan looks right at Arlin with a brief expectant look. "Over here, Wren," she states, finally before looking at Thesda and standing back up. "That's good," she says, with a slightly more distracted air.

Veks. Where the hell is Veks? His horse is Over There, happily chowing down on some grass. Maybe he wandered off for a leak. It's too early in the night to offer to put out the bonfire, after all.

As Thesda leans forward, distracted by getting to know the sole survivor, Veks slides out from behind the nearest tree. He eases forward one step. Another step. The last step brings him within arm's reach, and he lifts his hands to deliver a jab to each side of Thesda's short ribs. It's meant to tickle. It's probably also terrible timing. Oh, well. There's a reason Veks isn't a battle general.

"Wantoppa." Wren smiles over at Thesda before moving over to Rinnan plopping down to take a seat next to her. "Good. Because I figure it's high time to take in a time to simply collect one's thoughts." That's a pretty way of saying, 'dude, let's get /baked/'. "Are we going to have to trade for something like last time?" he asks, setting his axe on the ground next to him.

Tuan looks at Thesda then nods in a barely noticeable way. "I am also looking out for others, hunting parties or the like from the village that might have been away." He bites his lip and then looks around the camp before the slight lift of his shoulders. "For anything. You know I cannot just sit." Even if that is what he is doing, sitting on his haunches, looking at the others from Coesbur with a measured gaze.

The little girl gnaws on her lower lip a bit, considering the hand. She looks back to the medic, who is busy packing his mallet and tossing the rucksack into his tent, and then back to Thesda, and down to the scout's hand. "'m, Aldria," she offers, dropping the 'I' in I'm. And just as she reaches to accept the offered hand, Veks comes out of nowhere to rib-poke the woman, and the child lets out a spooked scream before darting straight for Arlin, clinging to him with a thud.

Suffice it to say, he entirely misses Rinnan's expectant look because he's busy trying to comfort the poor kid, whom he gathers up in his arms. "Shhh. Shhh. It's all right, darlin'." He strokes her hair a few ticks before he lifts his eyes to figure out what happened. It looks an awful lot like glaring at Thesda and Veks.

Thesda lets out what can only be described as a -squeak-, and the fact that she is capable of making such a noise will burden her until the end of her days. Turning from the waist, her fist balls up as she reflexively sends the hard bone of her elbow back toward Veks' schnoz. Annoyed that the little girl was made so distraught, upon realizing it's Veks (with or without her elbow connecting) she gives him an exasperated look.

It's hard to say what Rinnan appears to have been expecting to happen in that before moment before but with poke attacks, child scares, and Wantoppa reprisals seems to have de-escalated the moment of hypervigilant expectation. "Knife sharpening?," Rinnan asks with a slight grin at Wren as he collects and settles in. A brief waggle of her eyebrows follows. Knives! Everyone likes to play with knives! She leans back with a considerable reach, borrowing some of the fire from the fire before she presses the joint between her lips. With a smooth, well practiced air, she inhales and passes straight on to Wren. A look to Arlin follows, her eyes narrowing in ever-so-brief resignation as the cloud mellows in her lungs.

"Is that what you want?" Wren remarks, watching the fight/spar/whatever between Thesda and Veks. "A bottle of grog that Thesda wins." he offers Rinnan before taking the offered joint between his two fingers. "But if that's what you really want, yes I can sharpen your knives for you." He'd have to be good at that, just look at that massive axe he carries around. It's always sharp. The joint is toked and passed back to Rinnan, exhaling after a moment. "Wantoppa, you're not going to let the dog-man have his way with you, are you? I have a bet on you!"

The girl screams. Thesda squeaks. Veks's expression is a mixture of 'shit, spooked the kid' dismay and puckish 'U BEEN PWNT' glee for an entire half-second before he's elbowed in the face. THWOCK. He staggers back, hands to his face, making a muffled half-groaning, half-laughing sound. "-motherfucker, 'ntoppa, 's a joke-" His face. His precious, precious face. It must not be /too/ dire if he's still got a sense of humour about it.

"You snuck up on me." Thesda's reply is serene, implying it is obvious that Veks should know better. There's an askance glance to Wren and a little shake of her head. "It ends here. Aldria's upset." And she's pissed about that. Her gaze is apologetic to Arlin, sympathetic to Aldria. "Sorry, Little Bit."

Tuan works very diligently to not smirk when Thesda gets snuck up on, it is a decent enough job to keep his expression neutral, made easier when Aldria gets startled by the entire exchange. His brow furrows momentarily before settling in back to a passive expression. "I will take first shift of watch tonight so you all can get rest."

Arlin would probably (definitely) be laughing at Veks' misfortune were he not so ticked off about the upset kid. (Protective much?) All the same, he smirks a smirk of schadenfreude. "S'all right, sweetheart. Veks is just being a dumbass." Beat. "He does that a lot. S'why he's so good at it." Snicker-snicker. That said, he gingerly pries off Aldria and instructs her, "Ar'ight. C'mon. Hop up," as he crouches down to lift her on his shoulders — something she readily does, her mood improving. "Let's go bother Auntie Rin. She's really good at being bothered."

It's an off-handed comment meant to annoy his BFF. It also is an unthinkingly and unintentionally cruel one considering the girl's current plight — and that Arlin intends to be back in Polis relatively soon, sans kidlet.

"It's what I want," Rinnan agrees with a final nod as she exhales the cloud of smoke from her lungs. "…since a throne made of the bones of my Azgeda enemies is probably too long term a project," she grins lopsidedly at Wren before she nods again, this time in acceptance of their bet. "Arlin has your winnings," she concedes, the matter of Veks v. Thesda ended before it's begun, voluntelling Arlin as the prize bursar even as she's wincing at Veks' blow to the face. She holds out her hand, taking back the joint before its offered up to Thesda with a slight raise as if to say 'welcome, please take these drugs with us!' before she looks over at Veks and Tuan. Her eyes slant down towards the joint in her hand in open invitation as well.

"A throne, eh?" Wren raises a brow at his current smoking buddy. "A little presumptive, don't you think? That would take more than a couple bodies to create such a chair. And I'm not craftsman, maybe Que would do it. Just as likely he make a footstool to go with something like that." When the bout ends, he looks put out. "Shame, I was hoping for something more visceral. It would be a shame if I had to step in and show how these things are done properly." But he doesn't look to get up. No, don't break the circle. "I think he's going to need it more than anyone else." he points out, looking at the shot Veks took. Second time in a day he's taken a blow to the same region.

Veks straightens, head crooked to the side, one thumb pressed to a nostril as he snorts sharply. The side of his face is coming up a lovely reddish blue-black from a recent injury. As he's a good enough horseman not to ride headlong into a tree, the next most likely source is a fist. "Missed you too," he says, grinning wide in Thesda's direction. The grin seems to freeze for a moment as he looks toward Arlin, brows twitching toward a frown before they smooth out again.

Thesda pats Veks' cheek fondly, carefully avoiding his tender nose. Rinnan earns herself a wistful look, however. "I need to stay sharp." she explains, ever the duty of a scout. Her gaze slides toward Tuan, but she doesn't voice whether or not he should be inclined to accept the other. He's a man grown, he can decide for himself. She does add to Rinnan, "Another time, I'd be happy to join." Just so it's clear that it's about expediency. Thesda is more than happy to get high like a Redman lyric.

Rinnan is proffering a joint and no one has accepted. Fair game for Arlin to snatch it. Which he does, tucking it betwixt his teeth just firmly enough that it doesn't fall out when he hoists Aldria off his shoulders, over his head, and down on the ground. He then plops his ass down, leaving enough space for the girl to squeeze between him and Rinnan. He takes his toke, blows out a smooth plume of smoke, and then passes it back to his hemp hook-up, who now finds herself flanked on one side by a curious 4-year-old.

Tuan also shakes his head in decline towards the offer. "There are threats, I cannot." He does sound a bit disappointed at his own refusal, but it is much like Thesda; he is on duty. Looking at the others, he frowns before heading towards his tree once more to take up watch.

Veks tips his head to the other side and snorts sharply again, then hawks and spits into the fire. "Son of a goatfucker, that hurt," he grumbles, still grinning, as he finally stalks over to the smoking circle. "G'wan," he tells Thesda, crouching down beside her to reach out a grabby-hand toward the smokytreat. "Tuan's already watching. Nothing he's gonna see but leaves and stars."

"He won't be keeping watch all night." Thesda points out. "I'll be taking a turn." Her hands go to her hips as she looks up into the trees, contemplating the security of the branches to sleep versus the warmth of being near the other Trikru. Sleeping in trees does come naturally to her.

"You guard, we'll smoke." Wren remarks lightly. Though it's not like he couldn't just get up and cleave someone's skull in high as a kite if he absolutely had to. He might just be laughing a lot more than usual while doing it. He himself stays where he is by the fire, waiting for his next turn with the joint if Rinnan ever decides to pass it back.

Rinnan accepts the joint from Arlin when it comes back her way before passing it on Wren. It's child time, which negates weed time. It is known. Arlin passing the kid off is met with a relaxed smile as she pats the grass before her for the girl to take a seat. "You need warrior braids, as you are now one of us," she informs her with a grin, as she's reaching into her bag and rummaging out a horse hair brush. She nods with a certainty. This is also known. Looking over at Wren, her head dips in concession at the talents of bone throne making belonging more to Que. "You'd bring a certain flair to the project. I can just tell," she winks at Wren before grinning over at Arlin. "We will then decide what warrior braids Arlin needs," she informs Aldria with a conspiratorial air.

"Mmmhmm," Arlin replies with a soft, rich rumble that's a little rough around the edges. Lids fall half-mast across hazel eyes, a bit more relaxed, and he eases back until he's sprawled on the grass. "Weave me a flower crown worthy of the Prince of Posies." Lazily, he smiles.

Aldria seems delighted by all she's being promised, and she settles in to be brushed, wrinkling her tiny nose at the pungent smell of cannabis smoke.

Thesda flashes Wren a feral smile. "Charmer." she says of Wren, and seems to decide well enough that being in the trees suits her. So she clambers up, easy as a squirrel, and lets herself dangle down briefly upside down, just so she can wave at Aldria before slithering further up amongst the leaves.

"Aren't I always?" Wren winks in return, taking the offered joint and going to move away from the child. Because that's not something a kid really needs to be around. And the big guy is just chilling at the moment.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License