(OPEN) APRIL CATCH-ALL

[killtime]

Who: Andromache of Scythia & you!
What: Spring cleaning, patrolling the woods, and getting half-eaten by monsters.
When: Throughout the month of April.
Where: Prufrock district, Trenchwood, anywhere in Trench.
Content Warnings: Profanity, violence, injury. Will update threads as needed!


A | HAZARDOUS SPRING CLEANING

[ In all honesty, Andy isn't exactly looking for a permanent arrangement. Sure, she'd found herself strangely open to the idea of making some kind of life here, but she'd also come from a nomadic bloodline — and might have spent the last several decades living between rat-infested safehouses besides. It's been a long time since she's had a real home. Centuries maybe. That had partially been out of necessity — harder for people to notice you're secretly immortal if you never stay in one place too long — and old habits die hard. Anyway, it isn't as if she's expecting guests. She's more or less kept to herself since washing up a few days ago.

But it wouldn't hurt to have a place to sleep. A little corner of the world to retreat to now and then.

The building she picks is a fixer-upper on the edge of Prufrock. Smells a bit like rot and mold. There's a hole in the rafters that's bound to let the weather in. Most of the furniture is a lost cause too. But it comes with second story balcony that doesn't look like too much of a hazard. Convenient for clearing the space too, seeing as Andy's taken to some rather dangerous spring cleaning, tossing an old table and a few broken chairs right off said balcony without much regard for anyone's safety.

Hopefully nobody's walking by down below. Or wearing a good helmet if they are. ]

B | PATROLLING THE TRENCHWOOD

[ It hadn't taken Andy long to find a job that suited her. Not because she's a particular industrious individual — but the days are long with idle hands, and she's done worse things than work to kill time. Being a hunter is a little less covert than what she was doing before she arrived in Trench, but the end goal isn't so different. Keep people safe. Do the dangerous work that might kill someone else. Get to indulge a little violence in doing both. It's a good fit for someone who possesses both keen martial skill and an utter lack of self-preservation.

She rides through the Trenchwood on her Omen, a large Friesian stallion with a dark mane almost as wild as her own. Strapped to her back is a hefty-looking axe, each of its two bits curved and cruel. For the things that go bump in the night, probably. Or anyone that doesn't think better of surprising her.

Maybe it's a rustle in the trees or a movement up ahead on the Staggering Road, but something has Andy suddenly pulling on the reigns of her mount, coming to an abrupt stop. She stares with narrowed eyes, barking out sharply: ]

Don't fuck around. Show yourself!

C | EVENT: WONDERKIND (ANYWHERE IN TRENCH)

[ It had been an immediate call to arms once word of the portals reached the Hunters. And in a twisted kind of way, Andy had been glad for the excuse. Better to have something to kill than too much time to think. When she's alone, centuries of regrets and pains always come to keep her company. She prefers the reassuring weight of her double-bitted axe in her hand — an old friend she's had by her side since the Bronze Age. The sharp end of her labrys is indiscriminate, and a reasonable tool against most flesh-and-bone things —

Though apparently not good enough to prevent her current predicament.

That predicament involves very sharp, very big teeth. Attached to some kind of giant serpent that slithered its way out of a Portal and now seems intent on making Andy its lunch. Her axe is buried in the creature's side, wedged between glimmering scales and well out of reach. The woman herself is squarely in the monster's gaping maw, holding its jaws apart just enough to keep from being crushed, her own teeth gritted with the effort of pressing up against the roof of that hungry mouth. If god or man doesn't intervene, she'll soon find out exactly how shitty it is to be digested alive while immortal. ]

D | WILDCARD

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Comments

a

[facultative]

[The more time Anakin spends by himself, the more he forgets why it was a bad idea in the first place. The corruption sets in slowly, taking advantage of his isolation. He lingers in places he shouldn't now that he no longer cares about the high rates of blood corruption and beasthood. His fear made him more susceptible, but what did it matter?

The furniture she sends off the balcony has no corresponding crash as they hit the ground. Anakin stands below, looking up at the table that's now floating in midair.]

You could hurt someone doing that.

[He pushes back and the table flies back up where it came from.]

[killtime]

[ It takes her a second, but soon enough, the woman appears over the edge of the balcony to investigate why it didn't sound like gravity did its work on that shitty table. The sight of the floating furniture makes her eyebrows raise ever so slightly before furrowing as she watches it land back beside her. She spares the stranger below a bit of a look, then exhales as if inconvenienced, glancing away to dig out a crumpled pack of cigarettes like she just knows she's going to need a smoke before interacting with another sentient being.

The cigarette bobs at her lips as she answers dryly: ]

No casualties yet. Not unless you telekinetically strained something.

[ Leaning up against the railing, she scrutinizes him from above. ]

You could've spared us both the trouble and left the damn table down there.

[facultative]

[His face scrunches in distaste at the sight of the cigarette she pulls out despite being far away enough to avoid the smell.]

You shouldn't leave a mess.

[He kicks the broken remains of a previous item that had been thrown out before he got there. He's considering whether they should also go back up.]

We all have to live here too.

[killtime]

[ It probably says something about her that seeing him scrunch his face up in such obvious distaste improves her mood a little. Almost makes up for him sabotaging her spring cleaning. She pointedly takes another drag off her cigarette, smoke wisping around her words when she responds: ]

Sorry. [ She's not. ] I have a tendency towards messes.

[ Tapping a bit of ash from the tip of her cigarette to the ground below, she goes on with the same habitual wryness: ]

Is this how you usually welcome your new neighbors?

[facultative]

[His eyes narrow in suspicion. Somehow he can guess she doesn't mean it. Maybe it's the way she taps her ash down his way or maybe it's the Force. Either way he doesn't like it.]

I don't do welcomes.

If you wanted one you should have introduced yourself first.

[killtime]

[ She gets the sense that he doesn't like it. And it probably makes her a bad person, the fact that his less-than-subtle disapproval amuses her a little. The least he can do for inconveniencing her with the damn table is to entertain her.

Though, to be fair, she isn't much one for welcomes herself. Or introductions. So it might sound a bit insincere when she quips back mildly: ]

Yeah? Will you leave the damn furniture alone if we're on a first name basis?

[facultative]

[He crosses his arms. Anakin likewise isn't inclined for introductions.]

I'll leave your furniture alone when you stop trying to drop it on people.

[killtime]

[ Pointedly: ]

I'll stop trying to drop it on people when it's cleared the fuck out from this damn house.

[ Finally, she puts her dwindling cigarette out on the balcony railing, straightening up to fold her arms right back at him. ]

You could help.

[facultative]

Or you can set it on fire with your deathsticks.

[That is a better alternative to him somehow.]

C | EVENT: WONDERKIND

[unphase]

[the monster came as a big surprise to Tinya because despite the portals, she'd been told that monsters and beasthood were both rare in Cellar Door, probably because its residents were mostly night walkers or connected to them somehow.

but she knew she had to do something, so she ran to the side of the monster, summoning fire and launching it at the creature's eye. with any luck, the loss of vision in that eye would distract it enough for the woman holding its jaws open to either kill the Void-infested thing or send it back through its portal.

but just in case] Let me know if you need me to burn this thing a little more!

[killtime]

[ Thank the rotting gods — she was not keen on being eaten alive. That's one of the few ways she hasn't tested her immortality yet, and she wasn't planning on doing it today. The fire does the trick, causing the giant serpent to writhe and hiss in pain — just enough of a distraction that Andy can pry her way free of its jaws, tumbling onto the ground in a bloody heap with a loud groan. In her momentary reprieve, the woman rolls onto her back, wheezing out ineloquently: ]

Athena's third tit. Fuck.

[ She's torn up and hurting, but the curse will patch things soon enough. It takes her a moment or two, but she manages to stagger to her feet, calling out to her savior: ]

A little more fire wouldn't fucking hurt! Make that son of a bitch crisp.

[unphase]

[she couldn't see a situation like that and not try to do something to help. she's not built that way, even if she's a Legionnaire. though, she imagines they'd have something to say about her new tendency to kill opponents who weren't sentient beings. she breathes a sigh of relief when the woman gets her self free, even though the first curse is one she's never heard before.

she's carefully eyeing the woman's opponent. it seems like it's in pain, which is good. that's a start]

Can do. [and what was a little ball of fire grows to a good-sized blast aimed directly at the creature, listening to it yowl when the fire really hits]

[killtime]

[ The stench of burning flesh fills the air. Smells like a damn barbeque. Small price to pay though, and she's not complaining about it. Instead, she makes her way over to the smoldering snake as it twitches in its last death throes, planting her foot against the side of its body and gripping her axe by the haft to yank it free with a sickening, fleshy sound. She gives it a swing, splattering blood from the blade onto the dirt before sheathing the weapon on her back.

Finally, she glances over at the other woman, giving her a bit more attention than before. ]

Handy trick you've got. [ That's probably as close to thanks as she'll get. Wiping a smear of grime from her face with her sleeve, she then digs into her back pocket for a minute before producing a crumpled, bloody pack of cigarettes, one of which gets lifted to her lips. She waves the stranger over with her other hand. ] Think you could give me a light without setting me on fire?

[unphase]

[she's never smelled burning snake, but she can't say she likes it. she keeps a careful eye on it to make sure that it didn't strike out as it was dying. however, the woman seemed to have the situation more than taken care of, which was a relief. one good thing about the powers this place had given her, she didn't have to get as close in battle as she used to have to.

Tinya looks on curiously]

Thank you. It's a Coldblood thing. [which hopefully should be its own explanation. when she's waved over, she comes easily] Pretty sure I can. [and she lifted her index finger, a flame like a candle coming to life] Here you go.

[killtime]

[ A Coldblood thing. The term earns a flicker of recognition on Andy's face, though the truth is, she's only been here a few days — just enough time to start picking up the relevant terminology. Maybe it's her age, but Andy's always been simultaneously adaptable and slow to learn. She's settling in fine — she's used to moving from place to place, even if Trench is stranger than most — but when you're thousands of years old, sometimes you get a little stuck in your ways.

She knows the basics. Like how that the smell coming from her is the Vileblood. Good thing the curse keeping her alive all this time has done a reasonable job of healing most of her wounds already. Either way, she seems unbothered by all the blood and grime, more concerned with leaning in to get her cigarette lit. ]

Like I said. Handy. [ The compliment comes wryly, and shrouded by wisps of smoke curling from her mouth. ] I should keep a Coldblood around more often.

[unphase]

[it's one of the few times she's been glad she had her Coldblood abilities instead of her native skills. those were great for stealth and infiltration, but those weren't exactly skills in demand for Trench.

no, what Trench required was brute skill. and if that's what she had to do, so be it. she wasn't going to let this world break her. the other world had tried, but she refused to let it. this one wasn't going to do what the other world had failed.

but she continues to hold out her index finger with a little flame coming from it to light Andy's cigarette]

Thank you. I'd like to know how you kept that beast at bay for as long as you did. That was impressive. [a slight smile] I work nights. The rest of the day is mine, other than ballet and karate.

[killtime]

[ Brute skill might not be the only way to make your way in Trench, but it's worked well enough for Andy. Same as it did back on Earth, for thousands and thousands of year. She came from warrior stock, and even with her long life, she'd never felt the need to stray too far from that. ]

Maybe I'm just really lucky.

[ She answers a bit vaguely, leaning away to exhale a mouthful of grey smoke before glancing back at the other woman. The second half of what she says earns muted interest, as if Andy is mildly surprised to hear what almost sounds like an offer to do this kind of thing again sometime. ]

Karate and ballet? [ A little dryly: ] Not sure where you'd fit in recreational monster-slaying with a busy schedule like that.

B.

[souledsister]

[Oof. One of those types. Still, Ianthe doesn't argue. She raises her hands, one skeletal from the elbow and pure gold, but the gesture is lazy, like someone at a concert they don't really want to be that.]

Believe me, if I were "fucking around", this would not be my place of choice.

[killtime]

[ The rider doesn't seem particularly pressed to respond immediately, instead giving the other woman a scrutinizing once-over, taking in the golden bone of her one hand with a slightly raised eyebrow. Some gut instinct says that this person, whoever she is, might not be less of a threat just because she's got her arms up. Still, cursed as she is, Andy can afford the risk more than most.

The harsh tension is gone from her voice when she answers, offering a curt wryness in its place: ]

You never know. Some people like that sort of thing. [ No judgement. ] Out for nice stroll?

[souledsister]

Oh, you'll always find someone who likes something... but that's not accounting for taste."

[She drops her arms in tandem with the drop in the harsh tone. Ianthe is not here to pick a fight, clearly, as she adopts a more languished posture.]

Mediocre at best. Still, full house, have to get away from it all.

[killtime]

[ The woman's not wrong. Andy offers a slight, one-shouldered shrug of acknowledgement. In her experience, you really can't account for taste, and she's been known to indulge a little tastelessness herself. Happens now and then, when you're a couple thousand years old. ]

So you, what, decided to walk through a hostile, monster-infested wilderness for some alone time? [ The deadpan in her voice is offset by something vaguely amused in the shape of her mouth when she goes on: ] Wonder what that says about your fucking housemates.

[souledsister]

Too much, right? Living with two necromancers, the emperor of your entire known universe, a little boy who calls himself a duke, an even smaller boy who's an... angle? Angel. Girl with big sword. It's simply... exhausting.

[SHE'S SUFFERING. DEEPLY SUFFERING.]

[killtime]

[ That. Does sound like a lot. All things considered, Andy might prefer the Trenchwood too.

Dryly: ] I get it. At least you can kill the monsters.

[ A half-beat, then she goes on mildly: ]

Does that mean you don't want a ride out of the woods?

[souledsister]

It's apparently frowned upon to kill your housemates.

[The girl tosses her long, pallid hair behind her shoulder and looks up at the women.]

I think this is the part where I say "depends on where you're going" or something like that. So. Depends on where you're going and if it seems less drab than this.

[killtime]

[ It's a more relatable feeling than a person might expect. Andy had her fair share of disagreements with her boys back home — and after centuries of squabbling, it had become normal for guns and blades to get involved. They'd taken their immortality for granted that way. Out loud, she offers the blonde a hummed noise of acknowledgement. Sure, most people probably would frown upon killing your housemates, but neither of them seem like most people. ]

Back to the Waystation. [ She nods in that general direction. ] Then to the nearest place that'll serve me something alcoholic.