actual hobbit trash chrono (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
overclocking) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-12-14 07:04 pm
overclocking) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-12-14 07:04 pm
(no subject)
Date & Time: December 14
Location: SNOW
Characters: Chronooverclocking and Rosette 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. ]
Location: SNOW
Characters: Chrono
overclocking and Rosette soul_sisterSummary: 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. ]
no subject
[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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]