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 Posted: Sun Apr 12, 2015 4:00 pm
While not a culinary master, Porsha Webber knew her way around a kitchen pretty well. She'd been cooking for herself for years now, even before moving out of her mother's house, but considering her busy schedule and odd hours it was seldom she actually did. Usually her meals were whatever she could grab on her way out the door, running high to fruit and things like granola bars. Not exactly healthy, but not exactly unhealthy either. It was certainly better than fast food, in any case. Since Shale had come to live with her, that had changed. Shale cooked, he even seemed to enjoy it. It meant they had well rounded meals throughout the day, and there was plenty of left overs for those times when one or the other was out and it would have been bothersome to cook a full meal for one. This being the case, it only seemed fair that Porsha would clean up after their meals. Plates and dishes were taken care of, counter wiped, and if there was anything else that needed a attention at that point she'd address it. It had turned into an easy routine. Usually music played in the background, and Po's movements around the little kitchenette were dance like and rhythmic, her voice a soft echo of the lyrics as she sang along. Today was like any other day. They'd had wild turkey tetrazzini. All the meat they ate these days was wild. Hunt and gathered, rather than purchased. It had been a little hard to get used to at first, but the girl was used to it by now. Shale was an excellent cook, and though she had plenty of money, there was a notable difference to her bank account now that their grocery bill had decreased so much. Shale was in the living room working on something. When asked he'd said it was an arrow bench, whatever that meant. Po had watched him for a moment or two before the change of the song stole her attention back to the music and her task at hand. "Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds, and it's all over now. Before it has begun, we've already won.~" A cupboard closed, and she took up the wash rag from the sink, rinsing and wringing it out. "We are wild, we are like young volcanoes!~" She wasn't singing overly loud, but the enthusiasm was there nonetheless, especially in the sway of her hips and a bounce in her step.
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Posted: Mon Apr 13, 2015 9:52 am
Music stole away the edge from grueling, monotonous work. It was a lesson learned over weeks of perplexing stints with Porsha blasting tunes while she worked on simple chores. They might've taken little time and effort, but were they not worth committing some thought to? Any task worth doing should receive a measure of respect, he always thought, but here his general banished such principles with a whimsical kick of her toes or shrug of shoulders.
Shale delved into his work with the same careful devotion that a dollmaker might carry for his craft. The hunter measured out each piece of scrap wood carefully, twice over, before making the necessary cuts with a hacksaw. After sanding the roughened edges, he fitted the corresponding pieces together for another estimation, and then they were set aside for the final gluing procedure. The pair of DIN removal tools came next, for he measured their placement over the dremel tool and measured for their small holes. Assembly would leave them imprisoning the dremel on its side, rotating blade outward and no slack to meander.
With the last few pieces done, all that remained was assembly. A bottle of wood glue sat within reach, its tip smothered with dregs of old glue that crusted over, but otherwise it looked perfectly prepared for the job. Each piece was cut to fit, and each hole drilled in accordance with careful measurements. He fully intended to start tonight, to finally be rid of this obnoxious project and use it for all its worth, but Porsha's sudden burst of song commanded his attention. He looked up from the radio tools he held to watch her quizzically.
Good song, I take it. Its tune offered no rise of emotions for Shale, but he enjoyed watching the plainclothes general dance around while she worked. Each mannerism fit the song. Even wiping down the counter lent an air of interest to her antics. For the moment, Shale abandoned the task of assembling the saw to simply sit back and watch his roommate. It felt easy enough, with resting elbows against each side of the fold-up chair he used. Fingers latticed across his stomach while he leaned into the backrest.
"Memorized it already?" I wonder how often it plays on that station. The radio isn't such a bad tool to have on in moments like these.
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Posted: Sun Apr 19, 2015 5:01 pm
She was very nearly done now, and what little there was left was punctuated by longer and longer spells of carefree dancing. The wash rag might still have been in her hand, but but she'd finished the counter, and it, along with her arms, were up over her head as she twirled, then fell into a familiar and flowing Latin step. As of yet she hadn't noticed she'd drawn Shale's attention, she was too absorbed in the music, in the dancing, in just enjoying the moment and making the most of what time she had left in this life. Something she had always firmly believed in, but something that had become much more important since joining the ranks of the Negaverse. Their lives were unpredictable things. She intended to live. "Make it easy. Say I never mattered. Run it up the flag pole." Back to her task at hand, she plucked the grates from the burners so she could wipe down the top of the stove. "We will teach you how to make boys next door out of assholes.~" It was short work, and she was pretty much done by the time Shale spoke up. "Mm. It's catchy as hell." She glanced at him over her shoulder, flashing a grin before heading tot he sink to give the rag a final rinse before laying it over the center divider to dry. When she turned she rested her hands on the edge of the counter, fingers curling over the edge. He was sitting back in his chair, attention very narrowly focused on her, and she had to wonder how long he'd been watching her. Silver eyes dipped to the wood he'd set aside. "How's your project coming along?" It looked like the same project that he'd been working on for a while now, but it was hard to say. He was always working on something or another.
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Posted: Fri Apr 24, 2015 7:46 am
Shale closed his eyes and rubbed them both with fingers and thumb, sighing. "It is at the stages of tedium. I need to bevel out the wood where the arrow shaft sits, but after that I only need to mark down the length measurements. It's mostly tedium. I shouldn't have mounted the dremel first, but it's been such a long time since I had put together one of these..." And even back then, one faked arrow saw offered him plenty of use. The only necessary replacements for it came as new heads for the dremel tool itself. Once done, he needn't worry about cutting arrows to length.
Slowly Shale drew his legs up to a crossed position on the chair. "I don't know how much use it will get."
The Negaverse demanded a greta deal of time dedicated to their duties. With Xenotime, she needed to train others and seek out the enemy. For Umber, he was required to gather energy and train rigorously for the moments when he would engage the enemy more fully. Currently he was uncertain how well he would receive official orders to consistently go after their kind. Many lurked among their number with great power, and as a hunter, his bow served as his primary weapon. It was not so in the Negaverse, so using his bow became superfluous.
It became a 'hobby'.
He hated the word.
"After this, I need to figure out where to get a bow press. The string is starting to fray on my other bow." Were he younger, he would've left the string to fray further, but he quickly learnt his lesson with the veritable explosion from a bow he once owned. The sooner he could obtain a bow press and fix the problem, the sooner he could stop worry about the moment when the string snaps and the cables don't hold the risers together. And until he replaced the string, Shale may as well retire his hunting until warmer weather subsided.
"If you want to help, you can grab a marker and use a ruler to mark out the inches on the side here." A point to the length of wood forming the top of the piece indicated necessary placement.
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 5:03 pm
Any wood working terms he tossed around were pretty much lost on the general. She didn't have a clue what he was talking about really, but that wouldn't keep her from asking. A lack of understanding didn't dampen her curiosity in the least, so she listened keenly as he explained what was left to do to see the project to completion. A thoughtful hum followed the mention of bow press. "Bow press?" Her lips twisted to the side. "Would that be something they'd sell at Cabelas?" Limited knowledge of game hunting aside, if a bow press was something essential to the maintenance of a hunting bow, it stood to reason that they could find one at a store specializing in hunting gear. "There's one in the next town over, we could go check." She'd never been there, but she knew where it was. Not exactly in the town, it was situated on the edge of a large group of outlet centers. The request for help--purely for her benefit, of course--had her pushing away from the counter and turning to the junk drawer so she could dig out a sharpie. "I suppose," came with a feigned sigh, and a betraying smile as she crossed the room to join him, leaning to rest her hip against his arm. He'd have to show her what he wanted her to do, at least once, but she'd be able to pick it up from there. This might not have been her usual scene, but she was a quick learner. "Alright." Her left hand came up to rest on his shoulder. "What am I doing?" The marker twirled between the fingers of her right hand. Likely she wasn't even aware of the way her thumb her rolled along the curve of his arm, an absent gesture that might have happened regardless, but certainly his habit of hanging around the apartment in very little clothing didn't help matters.
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 5:25 pm
Shale paused to think on it. As one who often avoided sporting goods chains, he lacked an immediate answer. "... Probably? It's an essential component to owning a bow... But they might just be endemic to archery shops. You should call before we take a trip out there." Though the trip would never amount to a waste - Shale often enjoyed browsing the goods offered in archery sections, no matter the quality. Often larger chain stores housed lower quality items, and if he found a bow press that failed his standards, he would know to avoid the business in the future.
Her sudden intrusion on his space provoked no protests; human contact still failed to bother him, despite Destiny City's aversion to touching strangers.
"It's pretty simple." Shale drew out the measuring tape and rested it parallel to the longer board sporting markings for beveling. Leaning forward and out of her grasp, he pinned the very edge of the tape to the L-base using his thumb. "You see this space next to the black lines, here? If you could mark them at each inch up to... Fifteen inches, then start labeling the number of inches from there... You should be able to stop at probably 30." He didn't anticipate cutting for others or getting any taller, but having a range suited his purposes. At some point he might decide to shoot without a release, and without the proper length of arrow, it simply wasn't possible.
"If you keep your writing small, it should all fit." Overall it was a simple task, and one he could accomplish well enough on his own, but inviting someone else to partake felt like proper bonding with a housemate - even if her hands often called up goosebumps.
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 5:56 pm
"Sure, I can call tomorrow." They could plan an afternoon trip, depending on what they told her. Aside from Cabelas, there were other stores in the same area that were worth stopping at, that you just didn't find in the city itself. One in particular carried her favorite brand of jogging apparel. Not that she needed more, she had plenty, but that didn't mean she couldn't look. Styles were always changing, colors varied, patterns and designs fell in and out of favor. When his arm moved out from under her fingers her attention dropped fully to what he was showing her and she moved in as well to lean her elbows on the table he was working on, chin falling to rest on the backs of her knuckles as she took in the instructions. "I think I can handle that." It seemed simple enough. Mark the wood at intervals and number them. She tucked her marker behind her ear so she could take the measuring tape from him, laying it out as he'd done a moment before. Moments of quiet as she concentrated, making small, neat dashes along the wood and labeling each with dainty digits. Careful and tidy. Periodically a soft hum accompanied the music on the radio. Eventually, as she found her rhythm with the task at hand, the lull and pull of the music incited. Another song with a catchy beat brought a soft sway to hips, a gentle bob of her head as she mouthed along with the lyrics. Considerate enough to not to sing with the same enthusiasm she had been so close to his ears. When she reached the request number she'd pause, glancing over her shoulder at him. "How's this?"
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 6:15 pm
Shale leaned to one side in his seat, with elbow propped against the arm and his jaw perched on his open palm. Fingers lighted against his cheekbone while he studied her work. Considering how simple it was, she couldn't possibly get it wrong - and it was the only step left that didn't require actual power tools. Her writing looked largely better than his, too, which meant he needn't look so closely at her 5s and 6s to determine which was which.
She made quick work of it in her own whimsical way. The lines were straight, even as her body moved gently to the rhythm in the songs. She never lost track of the numbers and needed to write over them. And when she finished, every line was as it should be, with even the half inch locations dotted if he ever needed to use them.
When she asked for approval, he leaned forward in his chair to better survey it. "That looks good. Thank you." It needed no perfection, just accuracy and legibility.
"I think that's it for this one today." I can pick up a bevel at any hardware store to get the groove I want, and then it's just sanding it enough to allow the arrow to roll. It won't take much more work than this. One less worry, I suppose. It looked decently put together to suit his needs, and was technically useable in its current state. If he found need to cut arrows immediately, beveling out the wood wouldn't stop him.
"Did you finish tidying up in the kitchen?" Shale asked while he leaned forward, elbows rested on thighs with hands left between to hang. "I think it's common courtesy to return the favor - if you need help there."
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2015 7:08 pm
Whimsy she may be, but work worth doing was worth doing well. A pleased smile touched lips as he surveyed what she'd done, and she waited, nails tapping against the table top, for the seal of approval. When it came she'd straighten up again, capping the marker to slip it into one of her back pockets. "Sure, anytime." If he need help later she'd be happy to provide it. Hell, she'd be happy to learn some of of the actual wood working aspects, or the arrow cutting itself. This was all new territory for Po. But it seemed the job was done for the night. She glanced down at the set up as she turned to lean her butt against the table, though her attention turned to the kitchen when he asked her about it. "Hm? Oh. It's all done, no worries. I don't mind, anyways. You're always cooking, so it only seems fair if I clean up, right?" A smile, head tilting as silver eyes dipped back to the man sitting in front of her, considering. It was still early. If he wasn't working on the arrow bench for the remainder of the evening she was curious as to what he planned on doing. While waiting for an answer she she shifted a little more comfortably, the table taking more of her weight--slight as it was--as her legs stretched out, crossing at the ankle between his feet. "So what now?" It was a simple question, utterly harmless and mild, but there was something in pale eyes, the set of her lips as she smiled at him, that made it more. A silent offer he had yet to take, but she saw the way he watched her, the spread of goosebumps under the brush of her nails along bare skin. He was perplexing, and in these moments--sitting so casually in her living room with next to nothing on--utterly frustrating. She traced the side of her toe up along the inside of his ankle with the flex of her foot.
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Posted: Sun Apr 26, 2015 4:30 am
Porsha's grins ran an interesting gambit.
He'd seen a great many in his time spent in her apartment. Her playful grin - the innocent kind - arose when the radio first turned on, when she recognized a song that she heard and loved, but hadn't quite played it to death. She would dance, then, as she had before, in a carefree manner that suggested she possessed no responsibilities. Sometimes her smile became wistful when asked about the origins behind her cat or the decorative finger armor left in a nightstand drawer. Other times that smile brandished a hunger, one typically only seen when she donned the armor of Xenotime, and afterward came a hunt both sloppy and feral. And in times like these, her smile looked more like a grin, like she wanted to swallow something whole and she was looking straight at her prize. It reminded him of a hungry dog who believed itself above the owner.
Only, in this case, he was probably the dog.
So what is it you want, Porsha? What would sate the hunger behind those teeth? Shale leaned back against the chair, his shoulders flat against the surface. Idly he chased the latter half of the arm rests with his nails.
"We go out," he answered finally. "The Negaverse expects much of us - more of you - so we won't disappoint it. There's always something to be done out there." He hadn't yet murdered any of their kind - an act he suspected would have to pass. It reminded him of his conversation with Hvergelmir, and the answer he cited.
I told her I wanted necessary but wasteful. That was not truth - it goes against my beliefs. All things must find - will find - use. And what if we are not to use the dead we mint on our journeys as officers? What, then, will that ask of what I believe? But Porsha's toe drew him out of thought, and Shale stood to pace back into their bedroom. He had learned long ago that dressing before powering up meant a much warmer, and considerably less awkward walk home.
It was like the entire city hadn't seen a man in his underwear before.Beejoux can end here or take it further - either is fine by me
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