SCENERY

[oi_theoi]

Who: Anyone
When: Day 117, let's say "All Day" through to "Evening"
Where: Misty mountains
What: mingle

[So since this morning the HQ has been buried in mist and fog. There's the sense that the HQ has been slowly rising and falling in elevation, much more slowly than it had been proceeding until now. The power consumed by flying also seems to have increased as the HQ is forced to compensate for wind and drag and maintaining equilibrium while traveling over extreme slopes and other various factors of trying to fly directly over a mountain range.

Chill winds whistle through the hallways now, funneling through the HQ, down the stairwells, finally escaping out of the unsealed parts of the hangar on Level 2 and the great, gaping doorway on Level 1 (careful when walking in those areas or you might get dragged out). The lizagons have either retreated to the more secure nests closer to the covered parts of the dome or have moved to the first Level and scratched out the doorways of the abandoned rooms to settle in. In the mist outside one can sometimes see shapes passing by the windows: the tree-covered faces of a mountainside, or occasionally faster shapes... Sounds call out in the gloom, but the HQ's hulking size and constant motion seems to be enough to deter anything that might try to investigate for the time being.

Toward sunset, as the HQ seems to peak in one of the longer ascents of the day, the mist slowly begins to thin, and one can make out the shadows of another uneven stretch of mountains spreading out before the HQ, the setting sun painting them blue and purple as it starts to dip below the horizon.]


((ooc: We're looking to set the HQ down sometime between Thursday (tomorrow) or Friday night. There are some limited options, but the goal is to get to a place where people can rest a while.))

Comments

[bitingbark]

Ya could toss it to me raw if ya like.

[but you may find that more gross than me]

[anklets]

[Gross, certainly, but about as much as she might have expected of him. Some people, like Allen, eat too much. Others, like Krory, eat things no one else can. So she pauses when he says that, glancing back over her shoulder to him and perking.]

All right.

[She's tempted to toss it. Tempted, sorely, but like a good girl, she'll bring it over and hand it off.]

[bitingbark]

[Kane wolfs it down like he hasn't seen food in, well a week.]

Goooooood....so hungry!

[anklets]

[Hardly bats an eye.]

Be careful not to make yourself ill.

[bitingbark]

If I get sick, it won't be from this shit.

[licks his fingers]

[anklets]

[Crosses her arms. She'll take that smirk as a sign you're feeling better, coyote boy.]

I suppose not, if you're eating it raw to begin with.

[bitingbark]

[anytime there's food involved, Kane feels a tiny bit better \o/]

Well, s'not like it minds how it's gettin' eatin'. Less it's alive. Then might scream a bit.

[anklets]

Somehow, I don't feel as though that would bother you, either.

[bitingbark]

[Nibbling the last piece and not giving a reply.]

[anklets]

[Mmn. She's here already. A pot of coffee might do her some good.

Returns to the counter and turns the sink's faucet on to hot, slipping her hands beneath the stream with only the slightest hiss.]

Do you drink coffee?

[bitingbark]

I'll drink it if ya make it.

[watching her hands]

[anklets]

I think I shall.

[The water's steaming, and her hands come from it an angry red. She shakes them and, against her more ladylike instincts, pats them dry on her shorts.]

[bitingbark]

[Kane is standing behind you and if you question how he came up so quickly and quietly, it's a good question. It's almost as if he just disappeared and reappeared.

He slides on hand under yours to cup it and lift it up to examine with his eyes, curiously.]

I don't like t'eat the hand that feeds, little flower...not while there may still be food a comin'.

[anklets]

[The demons she's fought at home weren't of the quick and quiet sort, and so Lenalee doesn't often expect it. She starts when he's suddenly near to take her hand, pupils going wide for an instant, and then pulls her hand back, away, holds it to her chest. Leave it.]

Then you can leave them be long enough for them to put something together, can't you, Kane?

[She won't bother with insisting on her name. It's pointless.]

[bitingbark]

[He leans down, hunched so his face is level with yours, golden eyes looking into yours as if judging you in some way.

And then he reaches out very very slowly with one finger as if he were going to stroke your hands.]

[anklets]

[Bristles, eyes flashing with something close to discomfort (ah, no, it's very real discomfort, but she's talented in covering her feelings), and takes a very clean and crisp step back.

And here's your proof she hardly considers you her superior, Kane, because if she did, she'd sooner uncomfortably tolerate the advances than speak up—]

Stop that.

[bitingbark]

Why?

[anklets]

Because. It's strange.

[bitingbark]

Stranger than cookin' your own han'?

[will you let him touch them?]

[anklets]

It wasn't cooking them, it was—

[Nope, not buying any tomfoolery today, thank you!]

I said stop that!