[Seasonal Event] Three is Company
Leatherworker

Age: 36 | Height: 175cm / 5'9 | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 3 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 17 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 8 - Int:
Played by: Neowulf Offline
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Posts: 397 | Total: 642
MP: 970
#15
Rory had always enjoyed physical labor. There was something deeply satisfying about the long, hard work, the pace at which it moved, refusing to be rushed—and something deeply satisfying about the tired ache of his body after a day's work. Fascination, in the phoenix workings of the body, how he woke refreshed the next morning, ready for another round. Sure, sometimes an ache lingered in him for a day or two, but most of the time, sleep was like a miracle cure. He had grown up into the workload, and his body had adapted as well as it could.

He ate better now that he was alone on the farm. It was the same yield as it gave year after year, but only one mouth to feed. He took little joy in the revelation.

Another reason he enjoyed physical labor was because time flew, his mind engaged in the task: even something as simple as fitting planks into a stall wall required a certain amount of awareness and focus, and it allowed his anxious mind to rest. There were few thoughts that didn't touch upon the work at hand.

He lost all track of time until Amalia's pattern of movement changed. Rory blinked and straightened up, looking over to her as she stretched. Next to her was a feeding trough like the one he had kicked earlier that day, a mishmash of old and new wood—mostly new. It looked as it should, he thought, and sturdy, too, but he couldn't know from just looking.

He nodded at her suggestion, about to answer something innocent, when she whirled out of the barn and up towards the house. Rory was left looking after her, an unmistakable ache and longing in his chest at the idea of having dinner with his friends.

Of having a full house again, even if it was only for the rest of the evening.

He thought about want and need as he turned back to the stall wall, giving Jigano a raised eyebrow but little else; not yet at the point where he could say something dry and amused, too uncertain of what it was that was building between them.

Perhaps Amalia was the wisest of them all in that moment.

In silence he finished up the wall, cleaning up by putting the excess wood to the side and gathering up the tools in a single spot. Aware of the sweat and dust and grime on his body and hands he still paused by Jigano as they were done, his fingers opening in a silent invitation before he proceeded up to the house and whatever miracle Amalia was in the process of performing.
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
Played by: Cirago Offline
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Posts: 3,914 | Total: 7,219
MP: 10170
#16
He was glad of the gloves before too long. His hands were callused with the hilts of sword and dagger, but saws and hammers were different beasts and rubbed his skin in different places. Jigano prided himself on his endurance, hard-earned over a dreamless Deepfrost, but the motions used to cut and place the boards were new enough that he began to ache after awhile. If Rory had not been counting on him he might have taken a break, but his pride would not let him falter while his friends labored. He pushed himself to keep pace with the hunter’s rhythm, swallowing back the yelps when the hammer slipped and struck his fingers.

He was almost pathetically grateful when Amalia stood and stretched, her stomach speaking for all of them in that moment of silence. ”Dinner sounds—“ He meant to say ‘wonderful’ but her sudden teasing caught him off guard and he trailed off to silence as she made good her escape. The look he turned to Rory might have been rueful if it wasn’t so cautious, trying to figure out how the hunter felt about her words – or rather, the knowing tone of them. There was no denying that he liked being on his own with Rory, but their friendship was far too precious to him to risk with… with things he was still afraid to put into words, lest that make them real.

Everything changes.

As so often happened when he was with the blond, words failed him. Or maybe it was just that they weren’t necessary, as Rory began to straighten up the lumber and tools and Jigano took a broom and swept the debris of their labors outside. Dusty, sweaty, and far from his best he still smiled with unself-conscious warmth when his friend reached out his hand. There was a bittersweet ache in his chest as he twined his fingers through those that were offered and walked beside his sunlight knight towards the house, but the sweetness far outweighed the bitterness, and he laughed as Isuma bounded off the woodpile to join them, reeping happily about her day’s adventures.

It had been a long, long time since he had sat down with friends for a meal. He hoped it was but the first of many more to come.


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