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Date & Time: December 14
Location: SNOW
Characters: Chrono

soul_sister
Summary: A nun and a demon walk into an icy tundra...
Warnings: Rosette Christopher vs. home improvement

[ Chrono and Rosette are no strangers to less-than-luxurious living. They've lived out of cramped cars or made temporary homes in naked forests, and slept under nothing but the star-painted sky. Outside of the occasional lack of privacy, Chrono hadn't even particularly minded the cramped living quarters on the moon. It's why, when word began trickling up to the Transports still on the base of a frozen wasteland, he hadn't been too concerned. Surely they could make it work, right?

Unfortunately, after a week actually on the surface, morale is a little less spectacular.

There's been extensive debate regarding how they should handle accommodations—if it could really be called that, when it's more akin to "how to not freeze to death every night". They've become experts at starting and maintaining fires, of nice-talking their way into Exile homes for a night, of throwing together makeshift wind breaks using whatever materials they can find- even if it's just a poorly constructed igloo. But pouring most of your time and energy into preventing hypothermia doesn't leave much for finding a more permanent solution, either.

For a long while now, silence—the eerie kind that only a heavy blanket of snow can create, muffling heat and sound alike—has been broken only by crunching footsteps and panted breaths. As the sun flirts with the edge of the horizon, and Chrono realizes once again that their remaining daylight is precariously limited. He contemplates convincing Rosette to turn back. They can seek refuge back at the Pad and regroup, or beg their way into an Exile home for the evening. Try again after they've rested properly.

He's half-turned to do just that when his foot catches something poking out of the snow (wooden, investigation will reveal) and faceplants with a remarkable lack of grace or dignity. ]

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Chrono?

[Seeing him drop beside her does actually cause a momentary start on Rosette's part. With snow as deep as it had been getting, while searching or hunting, there had been more than one occasion one or both of them dropped an unexpected distance as the snow had covered a gully or crack in the ground itself.

Seeing a snow angel of grump was immediately relieving.]

What on earth?

[She reaches down with gloved hands and starts shifting the snow away from the treacherous demon bane.]

[ Chrono sits up (and only the top of his head is entirely visible, thanks to the height of the snowdrift) with an irritable groan, shaking snow from his face and hair. Somehow, it's harder to get his muscles moving again now that they've been forced to an abrupt halt. ]

Oww...

[ Rosette's excavating efforts, meanwhile, will reveal something that looks suspiciously like- a wooden fencepost. ]

[Her hands quickly scrabble at the post, feeling the length of it... And there's another not far... She squints into the snowfield, shielding her eyes from the reflected rays of the sun and spots a larger rolling bump just to the left..]

Chrono! I think we've found something!

[The excitement shakes off the ice and defeat all at once, and one of her hands, offering a lift up, is pushed into Chrono's line of sight.]

[ He takes it without thinking, leveraging himself out of his impromptu snow bed and peering along the same path she did... ]

Something buried? I wonder how deep it is...?

[She regards the lump in the heavy snow. Some of the other small shacks had been like that. Often with often treaded paths and light from a window... It was about the right size... easy to mistake for a hill, and not a footprint in sight.

The real question was what it really was... and what shape it was in.]

At least as tall as I am.

[ He frowns up at the waning sun, then follows the lumps and divots in the snow.... He doesn't want to risk them freezing out here, but at the same time... ]

... We should start a fire first. But we can probably start working on it. There might be decent shelter underneath, at least.

[She followed his line of sight. It wouldn't be long until the cold went from bitter to brutal. Just a few days ago, she might have simply pushed on with bravado, assuming they could just make their way back.]

Even if it doesn't work out, it'll be a good wind shield.

...

If you can start working on the fire, I'll see if it's something we can use.

[With the snow as deep as it was over there, it would be easier for her to move.]

[ He looks about to object—he'll have to wander off to find the appropriate tinder, and it's already practically dusk- ]

... Okay. But stay in this area! Within sight.

How much ammo do you have?

I'll be just right there! I'll yell if I find anything. [As much as her tone sounds a touch petulant, she DOES twist to check her guns immediately. They've had way too many close calls of the empty click variety.]

Good. Enough for you to get back to me if it gets bad.

[ It's really only a small comfort (snow beasts, honestly), but he nods in acquiescence anyway. ]

Just don't forget to use the tablet if you need to! [ CLUCKING AT THIS POINT, so he bites his tongue and starts trudging his way toward the clumps of trees on the horizon, cursing the length of his legs all the while. This is going to require approximately 80% more effort, thanks to his height. ]

I know! I know!

[She shoos him off, flinging light traces of snow in his wake. It doesn't take long for the snow to completely hide Chrono from sight... She checks the sun, still some light but not much, and wades forward through the snow with determination.

Carefully checking the firmness of the ground before she puts her weight on it... pitfalls and ice ponds were more than a small concern, she makes her way slowly over to the lump, shifting through the heavy snow..

Her expression lights up as her gloves finally unearth iced wood of ... some sort of structure.]

[ For Chrono's part, his movements aren't nearly as careful or measured. He trudges through the drifts with as much speed as he can muster, and he's grateful for the ammo box's presence if only because it's perfect for strapping firewood to.

It's well past sunset when Rosette hears the crunch crunch of approaching footsteps, and a tiny figure with a pile of wood taller than he is emerging through the gloom.

... The way he's covered head-to-toe in snow implies there's been a few tumbles into deceptive dips in the landscape. Frozen hair doesn't particularly help with the being freezing cold thing. ]

This place is terrible.

[ Grew up in simulated sub-tropical climate?? YOU BET. ]

It's.... ... Yeah.

[Chrono returns to... what looks like a tiny, run down house. She'd made respectable progress with only her hands, shoving wind packed snow and scrabbling at some of the ice. True to her word, the door was untouched and he found her sitting next to it, her gloved hands tucked under her arms. Even the thermal outwear can't quite keep out all of the chill.

Or it could be that the door is heavily iced shut and needs something more on the line of demon strength to actually open. But lets be charitable for the season!]

But never mind that! We may have finally hit it big!

Edited 2013-12-29 17:57 (UTC)

[ Chrono plops the ammo box into the snow, carefully arranges the wood on top of it, and follows the trail Rosette has dug out, circling the structure a few times. He pauses to knock on a wall — solid and not rotting — before turning back to her. ]

No sign of anyone living here?

[ They're never this lucky. ]

Unless they haven't left ever.

[She kicks at the door... the thick ice deflects her boot more than it cracks or gives.]

[ Chrono takes the wordless prompting and follows her to the door, looking it over a few times and then testing it himself. She's made a valiant effort from the looks of things, but... well. They always have a Plan B. ]

Stand back?

[She nods and takes more than a few steps back, pressing into the uncleared drift... just in case he had to use a LOT of force.]

[ He shows a commendable amount of restraint in that he doesn't knock the door clean off its hinges.

He simply considers his target for a long moment before planting a kick just below the handle. The ice sealing it closed cracks and falls in sheets under the force of it, and the door swings back until it slams into the inside wall, sending even more ice and snow spinning through the air.

The handle is salvageable, but hey, the door is open. ]

[The room inside is small and cozy. Boots, the leather now cracked and brittle, sit near the door. The frame and mat are covered in snow and ice where the elements had blown through the cracks... the house itself is dark, dust and powdery snow on the floor unbroken by any feet.]

Huh... Looks livable...

[ Chrono takes a few tentative steps inside amid the settling dust. A rusted kettle upon a decripit wood-burning stove, ice crusting the frame of a broken window, wood creaking noisily underfoot... They'll need to do a lot of work not only excavating the place (and keeping is unburied), but also sealing it against the cold. But she's right; it's definitely salvageable.

His curiosity takes him deeper into the cabin, rounding a corner into what was once a living room. A single wooden chair near a long-cold (makeshift) fireplace, and...

His footsteps draw to an abrupt halt. ]

Rosette.

[Her footsteps follow, boots heavy against the wood floor... and stop just a little behind him.

She doesn't say anything. She didn't need to ask. If Chrono had felt any soul left in the bundled form, his tone would have been higher, much more urgent.

She slips past him... whoever it was, sat huddled deep in blankets and a colorful, knit afghan. The skin was withered and stretched, but without any rot, preserved by the bitter, unmitigated cold. The fireplace only had ashes, and there were signs around, of what had once been furniture had become fuel.]

... I wonder if they were trapped in here.

[The heaviness of the snow, the thickness of the ice...]

[ Chrono circles around the other side, eying the afghan. Hand-knitted, by the looks of it. He can't help wondering who made it, and whether that person knows what happened to their loved one. ]

Probably. The weight of the snow would have been too much for a human to push the door open. [ Closer examination doesn't make it immediately obvious how long it's been. Dehydration or hypothermia, he reasons. Still better than starvation, or being out with the wildlife... ]

... We should bury them. Properly

Mm. Anyone deserves that much.

The ground is going to be hard... I'm not sure how much help I'll be.

I'll start a fire.

[Get a pot to boil for stew, and then get her copy of the bible out of the ammo box.]

It's okay. [ He flicks a glance out the window — the temperature will have dropped considerably now that the sun is down. He'd been hoping they could bundle up, sleep, and save their strength, but...

He can't very well sleep in this person's home, before they've sent them off. ]

I can dig the grave. You'll have to do- [ a hesitant pause ] the rest.

[ He wastes no time pulling his hood back up over his head, and as he pauses briefly at the cabin's threshold, he makes what feels like the day's hundredth mental note to get a shovel.

Hands and strength will have to do for now. ]

Edited (words tho) 2014-01-12 23:31 (UTC)

Wait!

[That pause was enough for her to put a hand on his shoulder, stilling his progress. She doesn't say anything, just unwraps her scarf from around her neck and pulled his hood down a moment to wind it around him. It still holds her warmth.]

There... Don't be too long.

[ It's Chrono's lucky day, because the temperature, darkness, and windburn all work together to mask the color in his face and ears.

He ducks his head, tucking the ends of the scarf into his cloak. He does feel warmer. ]

... Thank you. It'll only be a bit.

[ He turns abruptly and ventures back into the snow and ice, quickly — lest the tightness in his chest threaten to overwhelm him. ]

[She shuts the door behind him, and looks around the place... And pushes up her sleeves to get to work.

When Chrono returns, he'll fine her LED flashlight pointed out of the window, reflecting off of the ice and snow for a way back in the dark... The house is warmed, the blaze of the fire pushing the cold back into "chilly" territory, and their supplies unloaded, stewpot and rations making a nice smell in the air.

The person had been moved near the door with care, they looked almost like someone curled up on their side. Beside them, the back of the chair had been cut off, a bit of their rope cut to lash together a cross from the parts.]

It didn't seem right, without a marker.

[ She likely doesn't realize quite how much that light is appreciated, for more than just practical reasons; a reminder. Here's a place to come back to.

It's with this in mind that he returns, covered head-to-toe in snow, hands tucked under his arms to fight off the creeping frostbite. He's struck by how the cabin seems to have come to life — homey, almost — and hopes it used to be this way, however many months or years ago.

His eyes waste no time finding the makeshift cross and the body, mouth pressing into a thin line. ]

"Anyone deserves that much," right?

Help me carry them. It's not far.

[She nods.

They handle the person like spun glass, despite the weight. Still, between their determination, it's not long until they have the person in place. Their history, their name, even their gender unknown. For some reason, it seemed wrong to look. Or maybe just uncomfortable.

Rosette has considered psalms and verses. She considered parts of the gospel with both book in hand and on the way here. And finally, she decided the best way to do this was how she always prayed: speaking directly to God.]

Our Father in Heaven,

I know we do not send this person to you. They are already there at your side, warm and happy, but with this, I hope they can rest now.

That even though they had died alone, they are surrounded by those that love them. Please tell them, because they should know, that someone has noticed they are gone, we mourn them, still here on Earth. And we care that they are not here.

[She pauses a second, looking down at the small grave and the colorful afgan.]

We're bringing flowers as soon as we can find some. So make sure they have some up there too..

Amen.

[ Chrono doesn't know enough to find error in her eulogy, and wouldn't be much inclined to do so even if he were proficient in the proper verses. This came from their hands and their hearts, and that's all that matters.

He sets about filling the grave back in as Rosette speaks, then spears the makeshift crucifix into the frozen ground. Tests his weight on it once, twice, before stepping back with a small nod. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth; how many have they buried, metaphorically or otherwise? It seems like all they do anymore is mourn the dead.

But this is the most that they can do.

It's as they're walking back to the cabin that Chrono unwinds the scarf and stands on tip-toes to drop it over her once more. ]

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