(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

[killtime]

[ With a scoff: ]

Who fucking says I'm stopping now?

[ Unstoppable force, immoveable object? ]

[facultative]

[Frowning:]

You haven't started up again.

[That is not a challenge!]

[killtime]

[ Oh?

Really, Anakin? You want to go there?

Well. Far be it from Andy to disappoint.

She makes eye contact with him as she goes over to pick up that damn table. She keeps that eye contact as she lifts it... Holds it over the edge of the balcony... And drops it.

What was he saying again? ]

[facultative]

[It takes him far too long to realise what she's doing at which it's too late to stop her. Instead he's forced to hold it midair again.]

Hey!

[killtime]

[ She'll say one thing: Whatever he's doing, levitating the table like that, it's a fun little party trick. If he's going to interfere with spring cleaning, at least there's a novelty to it all. Seven thousand years old, and she's never seen someone do that before he showed up to scold her.

Dryly, she calls down: ]

Nice catch. You were saying?

[facultative]

[He takes a step forward and then another, before using the Force to jump onto the table and then up onto her balcony. He drags his hand up behind him and the table follows his movements until it stands exactly where it did moments ago.]

Can't you figure out something that doesn't nearly kill someone?

[killtime]

[ And there it is — the goddamn table, back where it started for the second time today. He's really determined to be a pain in her ass over this, isn't he? So much so that she honestly is a little impressed. You have to admire a man who sticks to his guns, even if that man refuses to let you finish your spring cleaning. ]

...Fuck it. [ She sighs at length, one hand on her hip. ] Just leave the damn thing there then. I need a drink.

[ Turning to head back inside, she waves for Anakin to follow her. ]

Come on.

[facultative]

[Her reaction throws him off and he's left standing there in utter confusion as she walks away. It takes him a while, but he does eventually follow after her.]

Are you really going to stop now?

[killtime]

[ She glances over her shoulder at his comment, giving him a pointed little look before descending down the stairs to what passes for a kitchen in this shack. It's barely functional, but the bare essentials are there — which, for Andy, includes a half-empty bottle of what looks like whiskey. She pours from this bottle into a cracked coffee mug. ]

Would you rather keep playing fucking hot potato with my table? [ Dryly, nodding at one of the rickety stools situated near the kitchen counter: ] Sit. You drink?

[facultative]

[He gingerly takes the offered seat and ducks his head, not wanting to be rude and look around so openly. He was judging her actions before, not what was available to her.

He fidgets, suddenly awkward without something to push back against.]

Sometimes.

[He didn't hold his drink particularly well, but he did drink occasionally.]

[killtime]

[ She doesn't seem to mind either way. He can look all he likes. She's honestly lived with less and under worse circumstances. Bones are good on the place anyway, and even if it is a shitty little house, part of that is her own fault — this spot of spring cleaning is the only real thing she's done to make the place slightly more liveable.

At least she has more than one mug. She sets the second one in front of Anakin, pouring the same questionable alcohol up to the brim. Mildly then: ]

I'm Andy.

[facultative]

[This is far too much hard liquor for one person. There is no way he is going to be able to keep this down. Maybe he could down it at once and hope it went down fast enough that it didn't register?]

Anakin.

[Or maybe he should wait to see how she drinks first.]

[killtime]

Anakin.

[ Somehow the habitual wryness of her voice almost makes it sound like she's making a little bit of fun just by saying his name — but it's amicable enough. ]

So. Now we're on a first name basis. You think we can fucking parley, or is it more entertaining if we antagonize each other?

[ Honestly, she sounds like she'd be fine with it either way. ]

[facultative]

[She can say his name however she likes as long as she doesn't call him Ani like that.]

Arguing wasn't fun. You found it entertaining?

[killtime]

[ She takes a sip of alcohol from her mug, which serves to mostly obscure the faint smirk on her face at his question. ]

What, you mean you didn't? You kept at it long enough.

[facultative]

I was annoyed.

[And he doesn't know when to quit.]

[killtime]

[ Apparently, neither does she. ]

Are you still annoyed?

[ She gives him a pointed look over the rim of her mug when she asks. ]

[facultative]

No.

[He takes a sip and then immediately stiffens and fights to keep a straight face as he struggles to keep it down.]

[killtime]

[ Andy doesn't try very hard not to look amused when he visibly struggles with the drink. Maybe this is her revenge? But she seems more entertained than truly vindictive, reaching out to give Anakin an amicable clap on the back. ]

There you go. You get used to it. Or the nerves in your throat die. Same difference, I suppose.

[facultative]

That can't be worth it.

[He knows he's not much of a drinker, but even if he was he didn't think he'd want something like this.]

[killtime]

Probably not. [ She agrees readily with a small shrug. ] But we might end up back at square one if you reject my hospitality.

[ Look at that wry, almost mean little smile. She can't really mean that, can she? ]

[facultative]

[He looks down at his drink and then looks back at her defiantly.]

What if I think that's better than this?

[killtime]

[ That only seems to amuse her more. Unfazed, she takes another drink from her mug without flinching. Mildly, at length: ]

I'll call it even if you move the table.

[facultative]

I'll help you move it back in any time.

[killtime]

[ Dryly then: ]

Now you're just being fucking contrary, Anakin. Does it really matter that much if you're moving it up or down?