Eleven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bearshermark) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2022-04-14 10:42 pm
bearshermark) wrote in westwhere2022-04-14 10:42 pm
Don't ever forget
WHO: Eleven & Open (various closed prompts in comments)
WHEN: Early April
WHERE: Around Ke-Waihu
WHAT: A motley thread collection + open prompts
WARNINGS: none for now
i. Farming (Open)
[It's a fight he's going to win if it costs him every last second of daylight. Eleven spends far more time than he'd like making compost and churning dirt into usable soil to spread over failing fields. His smith gloves will never be entirely clean ever again, but when vegetables grow under tender care, it will all be worth it.
Knelt in a field, Eleven touches the earth, pats around blindly a moment, then turns a frown down at the patch of ground. He's already unpotted a young plant and holds it ready to transplant, but he's forgotten something. He glances about, spotting the missing tool at the edge of the field, but doesn't relish the idea of disturbing the plant any more than he already has.
His eyes snap to someone passing within hearing distance and raises his free hand to carefully wave and hopefully gain their attention. He points to the gardening tool on the ground]
Could I trouble you to toss me that trowel, please?
ii. Fishing (Open)
Depending on one's standards, the dark was either exceedingly late or terribly early. Eleven stifled a yawn and set his lantern down by the lakeshore. Fish, he'd come to learn, could be obnoxious at this hour here, and it seemed he wasn't getting much sleep tonight anyway. So he cast his line and waited.
Sure enough, the moon's reflection in the water shattered as sounds he would never have attributed to fish started up in the waters, ceaseless and echoed by splashes.
"Goddess," he grumbled, resigned. "Between this and the talking vegetables.."
WHEN: Early April
WHERE: Around Ke-Waihu
WHAT: A motley thread collection + open prompts
WARNINGS: none for now
i. Farming (Open)
[It's a fight he's going to win if it costs him every last second of daylight. Eleven spends far more time than he'd like making compost and churning dirt into usable soil to spread over failing fields. His smith gloves will never be entirely clean ever again, but when vegetables grow under tender care, it will all be worth it.
Knelt in a field, Eleven touches the earth, pats around blindly a moment, then turns a frown down at the patch of ground. He's already unpotted a young plant and holds it ready to transplant, but he's forgotten something. He glances about, spotting the missing tool at the edge of the field, but doesn't relish the idea of disturbing the plant any more than he already has.
His eyes snap to someone passing within hearing distance and raises his free hand to carefully wave and hopefully gain their attention. He points to the gardening tool on the ground]
Could I trouble you to toss me that trowel, please?
ii. Fishing (Open)
Depending on one's standards, the dark was either exceedingly late or terribly early. Eleven stifled a yawn and set his lantern down by the lakeshore. Fish, he'd come to learn, could be obnoxious at this hour here, and it seemed he wasn't getting much sleep tonight anyway. So he cast his line and waited.
Sure enough, the moon's reflection in the water shattered as sounds he would never have attributed to fish started up in the waters, ceaseless and echoed by splashes.
"Goddess," he grumbled, resigned. "Between this and the talking vegetables.."