29 Cylus 722
Dan rummaged through the compartments of the box he had been given two Zi'das ago, gently moving aside the carefully folded paper and coiled ribbon that had wrapped it at the time. Saoire had been there, the only Immortal he'd ever met in person, though of course, Ilaren ruled Rhane, and her decrees had probably shaped his life in some way.
The tailor's chalk had fallen out of his sewing kit, but it had to be in the box somewhere. He found it at last, buried in the bottom corner of one of the compartments, and shoved it into his pocket instead while he put everything back. He closed the lid, slid the seperate back piece into position, and locked it, turning the box from a box into a seat. He retrieved a bag of worn out rags that he was slowly turning into patchwork squares (when he had enough squares, he planned to join them into a quilt, but that was a long way off yet), and settled himself on the chair near the brazier.
He would have more space and more light if he went down to the Inn, but there was also more people there, and after almost a full Cylus around them, he wanted a break. He wanted to sit in his own space, doing his own thing at his own pace, and getting absorbed in his work. He couldn't get fully absorbed around other people. There was always a hypervigilant corner of his mind that insisted on staying alert and keeping an eye out for anyone approaching him or trying to talk to him.
Besides, his tent was home. He had spent so many Cyluses tucked inside it, making things while his ponies ate and slept on the far side that it felt like a place he could relax in. Ten feet by twelve feet of unbleached canvas, softened and insulated these trials by plain cream coloured felt hangings. A carpet of pine boughs covered the floor and insulated him from the cold, a brazier gave him heat and light and the option to cook if he wished, and a box bed of lashed-together boards, filled with more pine boughs and piled high with blankets served him as a bed. His cart was tucked into the far end, holding most of his other possessions. All in all, it was plain and simple, but cozy enough for him, and best of all, fully portable. He didn't need to stay in one place. Although right now, he realised, glancing up, he had been in one place long enough for a spider to weave a web in one of the top corners of the tent, though what it thought it was going to catch in Cylus, he had no idea.
Some trial, he hoped to be able to decorate the felt hangings, with embroidery, or dye, or appliqued designs. The problem was that it would take time, and in general, the only time he had to sit down and take on such a major project were exactly the same seasons as the seasons where he needed to have the hangings up on the walls for warmth.
They muffled sound a bit too, which he was glad of. Not that Eureka was louder than the wild, particularly. Anyone who thought nature was quiet hadn't been woken up by a dawn chorus of umpteen birds shrieking at the tops of their little lungs. It was worst in mating season, before they laid their eggs, but in general birds had three main messages and they wanted to be sure you got them. Fekk me (I'm sexy), Fekk you (I can sing/perform/do better than that), and Fekk off (this is my territory). Knowing which was which was always a good clue as to what was around and whether it was dangerous.
The sounds here were just different, and harder to understand. Even now, tucked away in his tent, if he listened for it, he could hear voices and singing drifting over from the Inn.
"Signed words" Spoken words
OOC note
Words in red are indicators for the writing challenge.
This thread covers the following challenges:
Thread challenges:
1. Write a thread that includes a box, a piece of chalk, and a spider.
5. Write a thread that includes a ribbon, an egg, and a rabbit.
7. Start a post with the line, "I didn't know it then, but I'd walked into a nightmare."
8. Write a thread that references an Immortal your PC has never met.
9. End a post with the line, "That's when he/she/I/they knew, he/she/I/they had no control."
10. Write a thread that includes rainbows, a song (written with lyrics that are properly attributed if necessary or not original), and a reptile. (Song original, full details here)
Character challenges:
2. Earn 5 knowledge in a single skill in a thread. (hopefully)
5. Describe your character's home in a thread or in your CS.
This thread covers the following challenges:
Thread challenges:
1. Write a thread that includes a box, a piece of chalk, and a spider.
5. Write a thread that includes a ribbon, an egg, and a rabbit.
7. Start a post with the line, "I didn't know it then, but I'd walked into a nightmare."
8. Write a thread that references an Immortal your PC has never met.
9. End a post with the line, "That's when he/she/I/they knew, he/she/I/they had no control."
10. Write a thread that includes rainbows, a song (written with lyrics that are properly attributed if necessary or not original), and a reptile. (Song original, full details here)
Character challenges:
2. Earn 5 knowledge in a single skill in a thread. (hopefully)
5. Describe your character's home in a thread or in your CS.
The tailor's chalk had fallen out of his sewing kit, but it had to be in the box somewhere. He found it at last, buried in the bottom corner of one of the compartments, and shoved it into his pocket instead while he put everything back. He closed the lid, slid the seperate back piece into position, and locked it, turning the box from a box into a seat. He retrieved a bag of worn out rags that he was slowly turning into patchwork squares (when he had enough squares, he planned to join them into a quilt, but that was a long way off yet), and settled himself on the chair near the brazier.
He would have more space and more light if he went down to the Inn, but there was also more people there, and after almost a full Cylus around them, he wanted a break. He wanted to sit in his own space, doing his own thing at his own pace, and getting absorbed in his work. He couldn't get fully absorbed around other people. There was always a hypervigilant corner of his mind that insisted on staying alert and keeping an eye out for anyone approaching him or trying to talk to him.
Besides, his tent was home. He had spent so many Cyluses tucked inside it, making things while his ponies ate and slept on the far side that it felt like a place he could relax in. Ten feet by twelve feet of unbleached canvas, softened and insulated these trials by plain cream coloured felt hangings. A carpet of pine boughs covered the floor and insulated him from the cold, a brazier gave him heat and light and the option to cook if he wished, and a box bed of lashed-together boards, filled with more pine boughs and piled high with blankets served him as a bed. His cart was tucked into the far end, holding most of his other possessions. All in all, it was plain and simple, but cozy enough for him, and best of all, fully portable. He didn't need to stay in one place. Although right now, he realised, glancing up, he had been in one place long enough for a spider to weave a web in one of the top corners of the tent, though what it thought it was going to catch in Cylus, he had no idea.
Some trial, he hoped to be able to decorate the felt hangings, with embroidery, or dye, or appliqued designs. The problem was that it would take time, and in general, the only time he had to sit down and take on such a major project were exactly the same seasons as the seasons where he needed to have the hangings up on the walls for warmth.
They muffled sound a bit too, which he was glad of. Not that Eureka was louder than the wild, particularly. Anyone who thought nature was quiet hadn't been woken up by a dawn chorus of umpteen birds shrieking at the tops of their little lungs. It was worst in mating season, before they laid their eggs, but in general birds had three main messages and they wanted to be sure you got them. Fekk me (I'm sexy), Fekk you (I can sing/perform/do better than that), and Fekk off (this is my territory). Knowing which was which was always a good clue as to what was around and whether it was dangerous.
The sounds here were just different, and harder to understand. Even now, tucked away in his tent, if he listened for it, he could hear voices and singing drifting over from the Inn.
Filler Text
Filler Text
Filler Text