the days that bind us

[exequy]

WHO: Lots of people
WHAT: Recovering lost phylacteries
WHEN: Guardian 23, 9:44
WHERE: The Storm Coast
NOTES: Violence! OOC post over here.

All signs point to the Storm Coast, and once scouts have narrowed down the location it's only a short journey across the Waking Sea to move a small force onto the rocky coast. They row ashore just after dawn in driving rain, and follow the beach for at least a mile before finding a path that actually reaches the top of the cliff. The rain fades to a drizzle but the day remains relentlessly overcast as they hike toward their goal, grey and dim even at noon, with a raw breeze off the water.

Comments

[exequy]

On a bad day (so, a day like today) Kostos’ response to someone lecturing him about burdens would most likely be an obscene gesture. But at the moment his hands are preoccupied with the crate, so there’s no gesture. And he doesn’t care what anybody thinks of him enough to stand there and explain who he holds himself accountable to and what that means to him, so there’s no verbal answer, either. There’s only a facial expression—a lolling head tilt with narrowing eyes, a nonverbal sarcastic please—before he adjusts to get a firmer grip on the crate and walks away with it.

He waits until he’s out of everyone’s sight, halfway through the rocky hills between the compound and the ship, to put the crate down again, rubbing feigned pain out of his hands in case anyone does see him, and move the vial in his sleeve to a safer location.