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 Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 5:12 pm
It was possible the saddest throw that Ilmar had ever seen. It didn't even whiffle past his ear, so he could feel the breeze. The snowball went a few feet and plopped into the snow, collapsing all of Annie's hopes of hitting her friend in the face. Ilmar stared at the mound for a few moments.
"Well, good job, Annie. You have determined that gravity is absolutely still in effect. Never know when it might suddenly turn off. Here, I'm a gentleman," he said, lying through his very teeth. He spread his arms out wide. "I'll give you a shot. Just because you're a good sport."
PFFF
The resulting blow was stronger than Ilmar expected and hit him right in the chest. He almost even staggered, but managed to stop himself at one step, which he totally meant to take. And Annie would be a liar if she insinuated that he hadn't.
An... it was a lot darker...
"Oh..." Ilmar totally had a witty retort planned. It was the wittiest and most retort-iest retort ever. It was practically even a riposte. But something took precedence over the sound of hearing his own voice.
They were there, at the edge of the woods.
Shadows danced just inside the trees. Of course, it was caused by the pattern of clouds in the sky, briefly drifting over the sun. Naturally. Logically.
Somehow, Ilmarinen had the feeling that Logic had no place in the forest.
And he absolutely wasn't going to let a bunch of trees beat him either. "Are you going to leave anything?" he asked, slinging his pack off his back.
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 5:23 pm
Annelie wasn't listening, Ilmar. Annie was running, straight at him, because Yes, logic really was absent in the forest and the same went for those who were in its vicinity. ...Not to say that suddenly Annelie was possessed by forest pookas, or that they'd both be illogical, babbling baboons for the rest of their lives. No, she just felt like winning the game for once.
So without a word, she launched herself at him just as he had turned, and wrapped him in a bear grasp of snowy cold death as they fell into a snow mound. Just inside the forests tree line.
"I'was just going to leave you," she replied, face and hair covered in snow. "Though you'd probably cause the forest to wage war on us."
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 5:37 pm
Suddenly, Ilmar's life was full of Annelie. It usually was, of course, but now it was even more full. Extremely full, especially in certain places as she tackled him. No one ever expected to be tackled by Annelie. It was like being attacked by a goldfish.
But, for once, Annie was more like a shark. A... snow shark, rising up from the icy depths to attack some poor hapless Ilmarinen seal, who just wanted to go about his seal-y business (which, coincidentally, involved making noises in exchange for fish).
Ilmarinen hit the snow with a thud and a grunt. Snow puffed out everywhere as the young man flailed.
Really, it was a rather fabulous snow angel. So long as you didn't mind a snow angel that had four extra limbs.
"And here I thought working with all those high lords and ladies would teach you honor," he said, once he got his breath back. Not that he'd ever scrapped with it, of course. He tried to roll over on his friend. "Anyway you couldn't leave me! You'd have to find another cat-husband."
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 5:59 pm
Trying to get snow of your face when everything else was on your person was covered in snow was all rather counter productive. It was like trying to dry your hands with a wet towel.
Giving up on ridding the rest of her face from ice crystals, Annelie just sighed in defeat. She contimplated joining in on adding four limbs to Ilmar's snow angel of death, but then he opened his mouth and spoke. And also tried to smush her before she could roll away.
"I would have much more honor if I didn't have to listen to your d**k jokes every day," she moved to scurry away from him, "or be reminded of your d**k jokes every day by some otherwise innocent object, word, or memory." She grabbed a handful of snow and attempted held it up like some threat display.
"And I'll have you know that I don't need a cat-husband. I can manage very well as a cat-spinster, thank you, Mister Bardic Soul."
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 6:08 pm
AHA! Annelie was trying to get away! That meant, in Ilmar's mind, he had officially won. Being a gracious victor, he allowed Annelie to crawl away (and he reasons for allowing her to crawl away had nothing to do with the possibility that, if he continued this fight, he might lose later) and started digging through his pack. See? He had a reason for not wrestling his friend! He had an offering to leave.
It wasn't because he was afraid of losing or anything. Not at all.
He held up the little stick-deer like a talisman designed to protect him from errant snowballs. "Hey! You love my d**k jokes! Ain't nothing classier than a well-told d**k joke," he said, still hiding behind the small toy.
But now he had a problem; if he put the stick figurine down, he'd be unprotected. But he needed to leave it. Well, he could stall for a little while longer. He busied himself by fixing up the ribbons keeping the sticks in the vaguely deer-like shape.
"Ha! You know that won't go over well. You can't have unmarried wimmin cluttering up the city, making the place look tidy! You let wimmin go unmarried and, sooner or later, they're measuring up all of the city for new carpets and drapes."
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 6:38 pm
While finally able to get a few feet away and at least to her knees, Annelie still held the handful of snow in warning. ... though as more time passed she seemed to just keep her arm like that simply out of having forgotten about it. See, this is was d**k jokes do to a person: even as soon as they're mentioned, the recipient's mental capacity just weakens, and they do things like hold snow above their heads.
"Half of your d**k jokes don't even make sense, Ilmar," she corrected. She quirked her mouth as he fiddled with the ribbons and his offering, and eventually she lowered her arm to allow some much needed blood flow. Oh she wanted to lob something at him, but the little stick deer was doing a good job at warding her off. She didn't want to break the thing.
Though now she was starting to not care so much if she did. "Cluttering the city with carpets and drapes? Ilmar, now you're even going beyond d**k jokes. You better hope that offering is enough for the forest to forget about your language."
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 7:01 pm
"That's the miracle of d**k jokes. They don't have to make sense. If I went around making sense, then I'd lose my entire audience." Ilmar paused, head slightly tilted to one side as he examined the snow that Annie still held. Bits of it plopped to the ground, but still not quite enough to make him feel comfortable putting down the offering just yet. "Mind you, after a few drinks of that swill the innkeeper serves, they'll laugh at just about anything, right up to and including ladders."
Which were, obviously, inherently not-funny. For... some... reason.
AHA! Finally, Annelie lowered her weapon, allowing Ilmar enough time to leisurely make his way towards a particular tree. The snow was thick and it just felt pointless to put the little stick deer on the ground. It'd just get covered with snow.
"Here, give me a boost and I'll leave it in one of the branches," Ilmar said to a woman that he'd recently attacked with a handful of snow. "Anyway, that's what wimmin do when they're not watched. They'll sneak in and redecorate the city, just when you're not watching. Soon enough, there won't be dirt in the streets, no more peeling paint, the trash will actually be in the trash piles, entrails won't be thrown from windows... hmm... I'm... not actually seeing a bad thing here..."
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 12:03 pm
In the end, all she could do was roll her eyes in response. d**k jokes could be argued over till the cows came home, and Annelie didn't have the patience for that. Better to cut the loses than stand about and talk about dicks till her whole body went numb...which would be long from now. It seemed to be colder at the forest's edge than out in the emptiness of the road.
Not like she had the time to think about the matter, seeing as the Man was already calling forth her services. She followed him to a particular tree, then gave him a smug face once his babbling was over. "Seems it's the men that need the marrying, not us women."
She took off her gloves and shoved them into her jacket pocket (which she regretted a moment later but couldn't really do anything about), and then pulled out an old.....scarf? Boodles of yarn? looked like a scarf, albeit old, but newer yarn was wrapped around and down its length like one tied a pork roast. Some ribbons came out too. "You boost me up instead, Sir."
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 12:21 pm
"I dunno. Getting married would seriously cut into our crotch-scratching and burping contests." Now that was a bit unfair, of course. He and Annelie used to have burping contests frequently, especially if they managed to pool enough money together to buy a bubbly drink. A small child could burp the entire alphabet, if they were careful; that was a huge social skill at about age seven.
He leaned forward curiously, trying to get a better look at the bundle of yarn and ribbons. It looked like something that had once been a scarf, but the ravages of time and fashion had not been particularly kind to it. "You know, an offering is supposed to appease the spirits. That's practically a declaration of war," he pointed out with a grin. All the same, he looped his hands into a primitive stirrup and knelt by the tree, his own offering nearby.
"Balls, I think I need a new pair of gloves. The 'holes in the fingers' look isn't really 'in' this year," he grumbled, flexing his fingers as he tried to restore some feeling into them.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 2:25 pm
Eye rolling went to head shaking, and she flipped the end of the scarf in his face in light admonishment. "It was my father's; I think it'll suffice," she added, though not harshly, as she stepped up onto him.
When she got high enough, she looped her offering around a branch so that it looked like it was actually wearing the scarf. Then she wove the ribbons through the scarf's knitting. "And I don't think 'holes in the fingers' was ever 'in'.... unless you thought this look somehow made your artistic persona more appealing," she commented, giving him a skeptical look after she tied the ribbons into bows.
"If your deer where you want it, or do you want it over here?"
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 2:36 pm
That was the problem with letting your mouth run away with you. Sooner or later, you said something and it would come back and punch you right in the gut. Ilmarinen pulled a face and muttered, "'ry."
It was about as close as he'd get to actually apologizing for anything. Her dad's scarf, huh. It certainly looked very worn, but he couldn't tell if that was from actually being worn----he'd certainly never seen it before----or if it was because it'd been eaten at by moths in storage. Ilmarinen grunted as he gave his friend a step-up into the tree. "Balls! I think that rich food is getting to you, Annie. Can't you nick at least a little bit for your old friend?"
Hmm, artistic, huh? Well, in that case... the man grinned instead. "Alright, in that case, my hole-filled gloves are clearly a result of my refusal to bend over for the glove-making industry. Just you wait. Soon, I'll be playing in those little coffee shops. And it'll all be songs that you probably never even heard of. Yeah, here. Just take it and wedge it somewhere..." he scooped up the offering and held it up for Annelie and tried to pretend that he didn't have to stand on tip-toes to do so.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 2:50 pm
"Give you food? I thought you were one of the People, Ilmar. The People don't want handouts from the bourgeois," she shot back, giggling at the whole talk of it. Cool to be barely scraping by. Aw yeah. It would totally end up being a thing some time down the road, if wolves didn't kill them all first.
She reached down and grabbed the stick deer, nodding. "Wonder if we're the first to put offerings up over here..." The thought was absentminded, as she was still searching for a place to wedge the little doll.
"We gave the gods offerings before it was cool."
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 2:57 pm
Annie had struck upon the problem. On one hand, it was totally cool to scrape for food and always wonder if there'd still be a roof over your head. That made you authentic. And you'd go out and drink the authentic taste of Palisade (ie, cheap threepenny beer) and talk to all your friends about how real the experience was.
On the other hand, the real experience also involved gnawing hunger pangs as your desperate stomach tried to digest your own heart. Oh, and frostbite. Lots of frostbite.
He rallied magnificently. "Naw, see? It's you who's taking it from the rich. And then we enjoy the spoils. That's us, the real Palisadians, pulling one over the rich folk. That's allowed."
The bard glanced around the forest once more. They were only at the edges of the woods... surely other people must've left something. "I guess the gods must've accepted their offerings," he suggested. "Either that, or they've been blown around by a blizzard. But I like your answer more. Come on, let's go before it gets any cooler."
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 8:32 am
"...So we're just all liars and thieves? I hope my employers know nothing about the Real Palisadians, for our stomachs' sakes." Ah, the life of an authentic yet struggling, thread-bare, poor, low-class Palisadian. Such complexity; so hard to be cool yet stay alive while not giving in to the main-stays of the upper class.
....Annelie wasn't sure if she wanted to gag, or just bust up laughing at it all.
Luckily she didn't have to even answer that personal question, because look, distraction!
"Ok ok, just a moment," she breathed, sensing that time had run out in finding the Perfect Niche for Ilmar's stick deer. Instead she found the next best thing and placed the totem in a Decent Niche. "....And now how do I get down?" It was a rather open question.... one up for some debate. But even without a real answer she just started to maneuver about in the boughs, looking over her shoulder in mild concern as she moved down the trunk.
Plans. What were Plans. Pff.
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 10:11 am
"Stop trying to get your logic all over my political theories, Annie. You know those two don't mix. Anyway, of course not. We're all just cheeky rogues. Like that fella who was always waylaying rich folks and then giving to the poor. Only, we give to ourselves, which is still ok, because we're poor." You could get away with a lot, if you used the word 'rogue'. It was a twinkly sort of word, bringing up images of charming gentlemen thieves.
Course, they still thieved. They just looked and sounded a lot better doing it.
"Anyway, borrowing things from employers isn't stealing. It's perks. Like how I'm allowed a pint of three-threads every night, without paying." Not that he seriously thought Annelie would knick something from her employers; she really wanted to keep her job, for some crazy reason.
Ilmarinen had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the lure of the certainty of a meal in her future. Oh and a roof over her head. Things like that. An...
Speaking of certainties... the look on Ilmarinen's face suggested that Annie had managed to plant a snowball firmly on his face: Sheer and utter shock, mixed with a bit of horror. Uh oh... no one considered how to get back out of the tree.
"Well, there's always gravity," he muttered, but that hardly seemed like the most reasonable suggestion. "Here. I'll pile up a bunch of snow and you can aim for it. We've got plenty of snow. And maybe the next folks can use it as a sort of ladder to get into the tree again." With that, he started moving snow to the base of the tree.
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