Venat (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
he_shall_walk) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
singillatim2024-10-25 02:31 pm
he_shall_walk) wrote in singillatim2024-10-25 02:31 pm
Entry tags:
first umbral days | open!
« Who: Venat and you (open!)
« What: catch all
« When: October-long
« Where: Venat's house, throughout Milton, in the nearby woods, at the fishing hole
« Notes: None yet. Working on backtags but wanted to have something up for October.
She had been the heart of a star for many an age.
A most lonely position, and a position largely apart. Even as she loved her people, suffered for her people, suffered the slings and arrows of the ages and even her own former countrymen's work, it was rare she got to talk to anyone. Twas not her place.
So even here, as people reconstruct supplies and homes and plans and relationships, Venat remains apart.
She may dance in the Community Hall for the amusement of others in the evenings, or out front of it during the day, this time with her chakrams flashing through the air to provide her practice. She may offer assistance if she is walking through town and sees someone who is struggling with something, be it to carry or push or pull or anything else. She may nod her head to others while she is in the basin, either ice fishing with self-made tools or hunting with her weapons. Anything she catches, she will prepare and offer to the group other than a small portion for herself. And she will most certainly venture down to the hot spring a time or two to wash off, something that she hasn't had to do in ages and which she takes a certain amount of delight in now. But largely, you will find her in front of her house on Blackrock Road, carving or whittling or otherwise working to create.
« What: catch all
« When: October-long
« Where: Venat's house, throughout Milton, in the nearby woods, at the fishing hole
« Notes: None yet. Working on backtags but wanted to have something up for October.
She had been the heart of a star for many an age.
A most lonely position, and a position largely apart. Even as she loved her people, suffered for her people, suffered the slings and arrows of the ages and even her own former countrymen's work, it was rare she got to talk to anyone. Twas not her place.
So even here, as people reconstruct supplies and homes and plans and relationships, Venat remains apart.
She may dance in the Community Hall for the amusement of others in the evenings, or out front of it during the day, this time with her chakrams flashing through the air to provide her practice. She may offer assistance if she is walking through town and sees someone who is struggling with something, be it to carry or push or pull or anything else. She may nod her head to others while she is in the basin, either ice fishing with self-made tools or hunting with her weapons. Anything she catches, she will prepare and offer to the group other than a small portion for herself. And she will most certainly venture down to the hot spring a time or two to wash off, something that she hasn't had to do in ages and which she takes a certain amount of delight in now. But largely, you will find her in front of her house on Blackrock Road, carving or whittling or otherwise working to create.
no subject
"But yes, I was often solitary in my journeys."
She looks over and smiles fondly at Trixie.
"Do your people have a name?"
no subject
She laughs under her breath at her question. Oh, her people have a name alright, but maybe she shouldn’t make the whore joke to her yet. She’s trying to make friends after all.
“We’re called Americans,” she tells her with a shrug, “but we ain’t a race. White, I guess. It’s a loaded question when it comes to what we are - don’t think we quite know anyways.”
But speaking of names, “don’t think I catch what you’re called. Name’s Trixie.”