[SE] vegetables are a luxury
Weaver Hale
the Scythe
Warden of the Citadel

Age: 33 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 4 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 13 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 22 - Int:
Played by: Kyra Offline
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Posts: 903 | Total: 918
MP: 0
#1
Weaver finally caved. Her and Korbin set out one mild Halo day (which is to say maybe only -50) to make the trek to the Fangs and the portal. Why was the portal so damn far away? Couldn’t they have opened it in the Citadel or at least Snowcloak? It would make travel so much easier, though then again she may never see Korbin again if it was. He was shockingly excited to explore the Hallowed Grounds. Both of them were loaded with trade worthy goods, hoping they could get things that others might consider commonplace and they a luxury. Like vegetables. Not a lot liked to grow in the tundra.

The trip to the portal is (thank the gods, not that they care about her) uneventful. It takes them a while to find what looks like civilization here, getting turned around in this place that isn’t white. Turned around or maybe just distracted, really. They’ve never been outside Halo after all, never known a world that wasn’t deadly and frozen. Longheat probably isn’t the greatest season to visit in for them. It’s brutally hot, something the siblings were definitely not prepared for. Weaver, at least, had been smart enough to wear a low cut dress and not her usual attire of wool and pants. The problem was that she didn’t have clothing designed for summer, for the sun that blazed overhead and scorched the earth below.

Korbin and Weaver part ways once they find a settlement. It seems safe enough, the market there something familiar in a sea of green and brown so unfamiliar to them. She tries not to worry as she leaves him, though worry claws into her anyway. He’ll be fine. Everyone loves Korbin. He’s a goof and a sweetheart and a flirt, the sort of person you feel guilty about accidentally scratching let alone murdering.

Leaving him to the trading, Weaver sets off to explore. Eventually she finds her way into a field, something that looks like it’s probably rather fertile and lush in better months. Everything is a bit dried with the summer sun, but still, the grasses are long enough in places to be turned into a basket. Deciding to make quick work of the grass itself, Weaver pulls her scythe off her back and slices it through the grass is a few broad strokes. The blades fall easily to the ground, leaving her with what she assumes will be enough to make a basket.

There’s no real shade to be found, so Weaver makes do, sitting down in the tall grasses and hiking her skirt up to her knees. The ground is cool on her bare calves, but she’s careful to keep much of her skin covered for fear a burning. Sun is not a thing her skin knows how to handle. Once settled, she grabs a collection of the felled grasses and starts trying to figure out how anyone turned grass into something useful.

Ingrid

weaver

-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --

Quote by Charles Dickens




Age: 29 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 1 - Strg: 8 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 17 - Int:
Played by: Sky Offline
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Posts: 89 | Total: 131
MP: 50
#2
Ingrid

She was actually heading towards the portal Weaver had just recently come from. Usually, she wouldn't have bothered with a random lady crouching in the grass — generally grass-crouchers were just taking a dump or something — but this woman looked strangely familiar. (Living in the same town of about 500 people has a way of making everyone from there look sort of familiar.)

Ingrid looked at her feet and waited for a bit. Okay, there's no way she's taking this long to take a shit.  So, naturally, Ingrid headed over to try and see what the woman was doing. Is she... playing with grass? Who likes grass that much? she asked herself, managing to trigger some memories of her time spent in a very different body. Oh wait. Me. I like grass that fucking much, she thought with an amused snort.

"Mind if I ask what you're up to?" she asked.

"Shrine Ho"
Weaver Hale
the Scythe
Warden of the Citadel

Age: 33 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 4 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 13 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 22 - Int:
Played by: Kyra Offline
Change author:
Posts: 903 | Total: 918
MP: 0
#3
She might actually roll around in the grass just for the hell of it. Why? Because she has never had the luxury before, having spent the entire twenty-six years of her life trapped in Halo up until now. It’s not as if she’d ever rolled around in the snow in Halo even. Anyone who values all their extremities skips that part of growing up when you live in a Tundra. But she definitely finds that she likes grass, not for the grass itself but for the novelty of it. Truthfully the grass itself is just itchy. It catches in the wind and scratches at her bare neck or tickles the underside of her legs and she wouldn’t mind ripping it all out from around her, but the stuff is useful, and so here she is.

At this point she’s got some semblance of a weave happening, but she’s failing rather epically at turning up the corners and getting it to stay. There had to be a way to weave up and around to force it, but arts and crafts time was not Weaver’s forte. She hears footfalls and she pauses, hand gravitating toward one of the many knives along her belt, but the voice that follows is kind enough. Weaver doesn’t look up right away, returning to work on the stubborn corner. ”Attempting to make a basket,” she mutters, though it’s clear the annoyed muttering is at the grass and not at the stranger.

Finding a point that seems like a good stopping place, Weaver finally looks up. “It’s not going great, as you can probably see. Got any ideas?.” she says, taking in the woman who has come to join her. She looks familiar, and Weaver pauses a moment trying to place her. ”Have I seen you in Halo?” she finally asks, because she feels like she has seen those eyes before in passing. You don’t forget such crimson eyes.

weaver

-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --

Quote by Charles Dickens




Age: 29 | Height: 5'6" | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 1 - Strg: 8 - Dext: 10 - Endr: 10 - Luck: 17 - Int:
Played by: Sky Offline
Change author:
Posts: 89 | Total: 131
MP: 50
#4
Ingrid

Ingrid plopped down in the grass beside her, picking up a frond and examining it. "I don't have a clue. But also... Why do you want to make a basket? Can't you just, y'know, trade for one?" she asked, stretching her arms behind her head. She leaned in to inspect Weaver's work. "Also, I don't think you can make a basket out of just grass. It's like a gay man in a room full of show girls: flimsy until you add some sticks."

”Have I seen you in Halo?”

"Yeah, probably. I lurk by the shrine and the bar a lot. You're from Halo, too, right?" she asked.

"Shrine Ho"
Weaver Hale
the Scythe
Warden of the Citadel

Age: 33 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 4 - Strg: 10 - Dext: 13 - Endr: 21 - Luck: 22 - Int:
Played by: Kyra Offline
Change author:
Posts: 903 | Total: 918
MP: 0
#5
”My hands were feeling idle,” she says, because she felt like she’d done a whole lot of trading and not a whole lot of working since the portals opened. Occasionally she needed to go hunt, of course, but it wasn’t like it had been before. Before that’s all she’d done. Hunt, make whatever supplies they could, trade for what they couldn’t. Things were so different now, the world spread wide before her, that Weaver had honestly just wanted a moment of life that felt familiar.

As familiar as making a basket could possibly be, anyway, given that she’s never made one.

She laughs as the other suggests adding sticks, not at the suggestion but rather at the description of what it was like. ”It’s not like it really needs to be functional. Just gotta attempt to “catch the sun,” she says, stopping for a moment to make finger quotes around the last part. Silly tradition, but she wanted to learn about the rest of Caido so she supposed the best way to do that was to get involved.

”Then I suspect I’ve seen you around the bar, because I don’t frequent the shrine.” Why bother? Occasionally she went to make sure the Gods didn’t smite her, but really, it’s not like they were going to be bothered to respond to her. She returns to trying to figure out how to weave a corner, which was proving to be the tricky part. “I’m Weaver.”

weaver

-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --

Quote by Charles Dickens




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