( open ) summertime,

[periastron]

WHO: Alexandra, D’Artagnan, Fingon, Kylo Ren, Rey & open
WHAT: brave camp-anions assignment: members of Forces test Inquisition camping gear on the rough terrain and weather of the Wounded Coast, others can come by and laugh at their struggles and applaud their victories (lol)
WHEN: vaguely June
WHERE: Wounded Coast
NOTES: set up your starters, assigned campers! and feel free to come visit the campers.

Take a quick trip outside the city to test Inquisition tents, and try building your own shelter.
What’s easy to set up? What holds up well against the weather? Does anything need repairs?
Did you figure out the ideal ‘smore ingredients, or ghost stories to demoralize the enemy? Team bonding!!!

Comments

open // prose or brackets are good

[periastron]

Ah, the Wounded Coast. A wondrous place, beautiful views, fantastic weather. The people are friendly, the wildlife is a joy.

In an alternate timeline, maybe. Unfortunately in this timeline the Wounded Coast remains pretty shit. Nothing against craggy cliffs, mind, those are heaps cool, but fuckin’ endless sand. And it ain’t nice, hot sand that leads into beautiful blue seawater. No, this is the kind of sand that has gravelly bits and dirt and mud mixed in. Tainted mud.

a. singalong.

“This tainted mud you've given, I give you all a camper could give you,” as she tries to hammer a spike into the ground, “take my tent pegs and stay in the fucking ground, oohhh tainted— fuck!”

The fuck echoes around the cliffs, and can be heard quite far off, as can the snapping sound that accompanied it.


b. creepy crawlies.

“Well, g’day, little one.” She’s watching a giant spider. A baby giant spider, which so far as Alex knows, is just the size of a giant spider. She doesn’t know better, yet. “Y’know, people went on and on about how big and burly your lot were. Bunch of idiots, huh? They don’t know shit, you’re a cutie.”

Enraptured, she watches the spider, and reaches for a leatherbound notebook, and starts idly sketching it. She’s no artist, but she’s just trying to get something of a scientific doodle. And, now, she might be mindful and aware, but she’s so invested in looking at this spider that she hasn’t noticed the long legs of a fully grown spider inching out from the caverns behind her.


c. gondolaaargh

Poling along her floating gondola (which she used to bring some of the equipment along without needing to carry it), Alex is looking at the steep slope before her, thoroughly distracted from what she’s meant to be doing, and grins over her shoulder.

“How much will you bet me that I can steer this beauty down to the water?”


d. wildcard

b.

[letoldthingsdie]

"Cute isn't the word I would use." He makes a face, watching her interact with the spider. He looks up when he sees the fully grown one approaching and debates killing it before it can get too close. He's sure she can handle herself, though.

"They're likely to try and kill us if we get too close to their nest." Well, that big one might try. It's mostly just lurking for now.

[periastron]

Ah, this guy. A natural source of light and uplifting sentiment from their time together in the Sunless Lands.

Truthfully, she doesn't know much about Kylo Ren. He'd seemed dramatic and moody when they were stuck in the ice shelters together, but who wouldn't be moody in those circumstances? She was pretty sure she didn't come off too well, either. Alex grins up at him. "Adorable, maybe? Delightful?"

She does nod at that, though. "True. That's too bad, though. I just wanna scoop it up and cuddle it."
At least she knows better that to actually do that, as she watches its shining black eyes. So many eyes.

[letoldthingsdie]

He does somewhat remember her from their time in the Sunless Lands. So much of those first days had been filled with freezing temperatures that made his bones ache and wariness at anyone and everything around him. He hadn't exactly been open for friendships or alliances, though he'd struck up conversation with Iorveth. Now that he's settled in - mellowed out, as it were - he's somewhat more approachable.

"What's so fascinating about them? Do you just like the creatures here?" Nothing fascinated him about them, other than watching her be fascinated by them, anyway. He's curious what the appeal is and if perhaps she just knows a lot about creatures. He'd never thought to ask when they first met.

[periastron]

"I like most creatures. I just... think there's a lot to them and they've got so many different ways of being remarkable, y'know?"

She's still looking at the baby spider; thus far, there has been no movement from the bigger one, as it watches its young from the shadows.

"People are so... I dunno. I've had a lot of disappointin' experience with people. Animals ain't never disappointed me, and I'm always learning new shit." She smiles fondly at the little spider, as it starts to skitter away from her.

c

[mousquetaire]

D'Artagnan had not been overly on board with the idea of bringing a boat. His horse has been able to carry a good deal of supplies for them, but this is something else. In his personal opinion, it's highly unlikely it'll make it to the water without overturning and spilling all of their supplies under the surface.

But on the other hand. He does love a challenge.

He glances over, measuring the angle of the hill and then looking at Alex.

"I'll bet tomorrow's breakfast on your taking a bath in it the moment you get there," he says, lifting his eyebrow. "Feeling confident?"

[periastron]

A bright, cheery grin is her response. Of course, the way down is strewn with rocks, scrubs, a fallen tree or two, and this thing gets wobbly if it goes over uneven ground.

"Hows about we take out some of the essentials so if it does flip it, I'm the only one gettin' fucked up? And that way when I win, you'll have tomorrow's breakfast supplies all ready to cook."

[mousquetaire]

D'Artagnan takes another glance down the ill, and then with a nod, moves to remove the perishables. Namely the food, because there's absolutely no way he's letting the prize go under before he has the chance to win it. The tarp for their tent can come out, too.

"We wouldn't want you to break any eggs," he says, smiling cheerfully. "Are you sure about this? I wouldn't blame you for changing your mind, if you're afraid..."

He gestures at the rocky field before her. Still time to back out, Alex!

[periastron]

"Afraid?" Did her voice just go up an octave or two with incredulity? It sure did. "Mate, Alexandra Karahalio knows no fear. She's a relentless badass who sometimes talks in the third person for greater emphasis."

This was a girl who ran across the school roof, leaped off a cliff into a river just because her cousin told her she was too small to do it, and threw a rock at a brown snake that was chasing her uncle's dog.

A rocky slope down to the sea? That's nothing, and she flips out the stuff with gusto, and braces her foot against it.

"Maybe you're the one who's afraid, bucko."

a.

[utulien_aure]

On general principles, it's tempting to ask what the original version of the song she's singing was- but judging from the epithet perhaps there are more pressing concerns at the moment.

"Are you all right?" Fingon turns to her and asks. It sounds as though it's just the equipment which took the brunt of the accident, but he might as well be sure.

[periastron]

"I," she starts, voice muffled, "am fucking fantastic." Considerably less lyrical than before, yep.

She has a red lash mark across her cheek. "That thing there, that came undone and kinda whipped back and," she gestures to the angry red mark with a flourish, "now I'm looking extra flash, yeah?"

Looking up at Fingon, she shrugs helplessly. "I feel like this world needs to be introduced to the concept of—"

Wait, hang on. "Do you know what an RV is?"

[utulien_aure]

Fingon’s spent near five hundred years a soldier, he’s heard worse.

“Nothing a little ice won’t fix,” he tells her, “Though for now, cold water might suffice.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve not heard the term. Something from your world?”

[periastron]

"Thank God I have no cold water at all, then." She says it brightly, for all her inherent grump and snark. There's a sort of wryness to it, more than unpleasantness. Looking around her, Alex picks up a smooth rock from the shade, and holds it up victoriously. "Oh, snap. Here we go."

This is not going to help, even remotely.

"It's like... a little house on a carriage. I guess like a caravan, except heaps souped up. There's plumbing, and everything."

Kylo Ren (and Caedus the Mabari!) | prose or brackets are welcome

[letoldthingsdie]

The last thing he expected out of an assignment for the Forces division was a camping trip. Yes he had agreed to do it but that still didn't make him a fan of doing something other than hitting monsters for the Inquisition. The Wounded Coast also left much to be desired as far as landscape, but it wasn't the worst thing he's seen.

Pitching a Tent

With his hair pulled back out of his face, Kylo was staring severely at the instructions left for putting the tent together. Caedus was circling his feet, sniffing the ground and looking up at Kylo as he turned over the diagram in his hands to get a better look and figure out which piece he needed to start with. The mabari, sensing that someone was being too serious about this, decided to pick up one of the poles and take off with it. Was it one he needed right now? Would it be perfectly straight when he got it back? Only the Maker knew.

"Hey- Caedus." Kylo looks up from his work, completely exasperated with the dog. "Kriff. Why did I think it was a good idea to bring him along?"

Sighing, he shoves the instructions in his pocket and stabs one of the poles into the ground out of irritation while he waits for the pup to bring the other one back, or be laughed at by his fellow campers. Which ever happened first.

Let there be fire! (Just a campfire, don't worry)

Once the tent is finally put together and only a little crooked, Kylo is all too happy to distract himself with getting firewood. He has several broken branches and some split logs in his arms and carries them to the center of their circle of tents with ease.

"Is this too much? We don't have to use it all at once, I guess." He looks to the person nearest him as he starts creating a bit of a fire pit, though nothing too fancy. It just needed to be enough to keep the fire in one secure place. The last thing they needed was the forests around them catching fire.

Tent

[mousquetaire]

D'Artagnan, usefully, is off to one side leaning against a tree, and observing Kylo's dubious attempts to erect the tent.

Incidentally, this is something he's used to. He's never been given a camping assignment before, but it comes with the territory in his line of work. Still, Kylo seems so determined, and for now at least, d'Artagnan will let him work.

That is until the little Mabari puppy steals one of the poles, and then he pushes off the tree with a smile.

"It was a good idea, he'll warn us if any strangers approach. Clearly he wants to play. Shall we take his advice, or do you want to struggle with that for another hour, first?"

[letoldthingsdie]

He looks towards D'Artagnan, surprised. Had he been watching him struggle with the tent? Unconsciously, he presses his lips together and tries to swallow the embarrassment. There were tents where he was from, but so much of the technology there was different to here. You didn't need tents when you spent half your life on a star cruiser.

"Isn't the mission more important?" All work and no play, of course. This was hardly a dire situation. He did play with the mabari sometimes, but it was usually with Rey and Padawan around him. He hardly ever let his guard down around strangers. Though, technically Rey was here on this trip, too.

[mousquetaire]

D'Artagnan shrugs, clearly still taken with the puppy.

"What do you suppose the mission is? He's an ideal test for our equipment. If it can survive his teeth, it's well made."

And if it's not well made, the Inquisition will surely thank them for pointing it out so succinctly. That sounds like an excellent excuse to play fetch.

"Besides, that's easily done if we work together." He gestures at the collapsed remnants of the tent. "You know it's all right to ask for help, Monsieur Ren?"

fiyaaaa

[provenforce]

Rey is sitting on the ground nearby, patching some holes that she's found in a fishing net that she'd borrowed. When Ben returns she gives him a soft smile before going back to her work, but when he speaks she looks up again and squints at the wood he'd brought with him.

"If anything it probably isn't enough. Wood burns fast. But there's no shortage of it around here so that's a good start, at least."

[letoldthingsdie]

"Mm. True." He crosses his arms for a minute, staring at the pile he's brought. She was right. He'd need more. He looks to her for a moment, head tilted in interest.

"What are you working on?"

[provenforce]

"Fishing net," she replies, holding it up for him to see. She's almost done knotting the new threads into the old ones, so it's fairly recognizable as what it's supposed to be. "I borrowed it, but it's... in rough shape, so I'm fixing it up so we might actually be able to use it."

open!

[mousquetaire]

A. Food Supplies

Darkness shouldn't be far away. By now, the fire has been crackling brightly for a few hours, and d'Artagnan feels it's high time to test out some of the provisions. Some are the dried and salted variety they brought with them; others are fish he's caught and cleaned ready to be roasted. He has two cooking over the flames already, while he looks through some particularly unappetising baked goods. They look somewhat like ship's biscuits, which d'Artagnan has never had the misfortune of tasting. He feels that's about to change. Uncertain, he knocks his knuckles against one of them, producing a solid sound not unlike the kind that comes from knocking on wood.

He lets out a sigh.

"If I bite through this I'll break my teeth," he says, conversationally. He makes an attempt to break off a piece, but even that doesn't work very well. "Surely we can do better than this."

B. Night Watch

When night eventually falls, he opts to take the first watch, and sits by the dying embers of the fire with his sword punched into the ground. He might as well take the opportunity to clean and sharpen at. His horse is tied up nearby, and settled with water and food. After the first couple of hours are quiet, he has hope this job might be easy.

Then there's a crack from somewhere out in the trees, and his head snaps up. Cursing under his breath, he kicks sand over the fire, just in case there's anything left of its glow. A glance back at his horse tells him that it's alert again, and he pulls his sword out of the ground. Very carefully, he moves towards the outer perimeter of their camp, looking for signs of intrusion.

Perhaps it's just an animal.

Odds are he's not that lucky.

C. Wildcard

A

[utulien_aure]

Fingon leans over, takes a hard look at the hardtack in question, and groans.

"Soak it for an hour or two. It will improve the texture, at least, and you won't lose any taste from it."

A moment's consideration, and he adds, "If anything, it might be more flavorful with the right liquid. Do we have any coffee?"

[mousquetaire]

"Soak it for an hour?!" D'Artagnan says, somewhat appalled. How is that constructive for food to be eaten on the road? He's going to make a very poor report about this. He already looks disgruntled.

Then there's the question of coffee. He knows what that is, thanks to hearing it talked about over the crystals. He's dubious about its qualities, though he imagines it's something the King and Queen would enjoy. His own tastes could potentially do with refining.

"We have ale. I wouldn't know how to make coffee whether we have it or not; would you?"

[utulien_aure]

An hour is very little to Fingon, though he supposes it would look a bit different to a Man. "Perhaps it will be shorter," he offers in some consolation. "I guessed based on the waybread of the worst baker I've ever known, but perhaps these ones know their craft better."

Said baker being his sister, far too impatient to master any bread recipe when she could forage from the wild instead. Guess who had had to eat her half-burnt, resent-filled version of hardtack?

"Ale will probably work; the simpler recipes aren't hard, but I haven't any beans with me." More's the pity. For Fingon, one of the wonders of Thedas worth mentioning has been access to Antiva's coffee beans, the first he's had access to in the better part of five centuries.

Rey & Padawan; open; prose or brackets ok

[provenforce]

i. shelter building

Rey is adept at building her tent and fast about it, not needing instructions or to ask for help. She moves like someone who has had to do this before, and she has, several times with the Inquisition, as well as before, when she was on her own. Sometimes she couldn't get back to the shelter of her AT-AT before dark, and having an alternate shelter was life or death in the Jakku desert.

She makes a few tweaks to how the tents are set up from the others, folding the fabric so there's an overlap at the bottom, then rolling it in a way that creates a barrier from things being able to get in from the outside once the front flap is closed. It's not perfect, but once she's done she walks around the tent, scrutinizing her work while Padawan lays nearby, watching intently.

ii. campfire cooking

Rey is still learning how to cook things more elaborately than the cardboard meals she's used to back home. She's learned a few things, but the Inquisition provides far too many meals, which results in a little laziness on her behalf. Why cook when someone else is happy to do it for you?

She feels guilty about that, so she volunteers to do some of the cooking during this little camp-out. Unfortunately, this means that some people might be subjected to too-burned meat. Or it might be raw in the middle.

She's definitely trying hard not to poison anyone, though!

iii. tent mending

Some of the equipment seems to be in worse condition than the others. Since this would likely fall into Base Operations work anyway, Rey goes ahead and gets started on mending some of the tents while they're out there, sitting on a log with the canvas spread over her knees while she stitches patches into holes or tightens up stitches that are sound but loose.

She looks up every once in a while, looking out over the campsite like she's mentally keeping track of where everyone is, before smiling a little and going back to her work.

iv. wildcard