Heat (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iron_stomach) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
route666rp2025-06-14 08:09 pm
iron_stomach) wrote in route666rp2025-06-14 08:09 pm
drinking mystery booze may be unwise.
Who: Serph, Heat, Jayce .. possibly eventually Secunit and or John and or Jack. TBD.
What: Maybe apologies. eventually, getting drunk.
Where: Convoy!
When: Late evening, after the shield is fixed
Warnings: May contain ANY of the following: Alcohol, drinking, adult themes, canon typical violence, carnivory, mention of cannibalism, secunit judging everyone organic, Great Old Ones, monsters and shenanigans.
The heavy rain and thunderstorms of the day have tapered off to a thick mist behind the wall of the convoy's newly repaired shield. It does nothing to mute the chorus of strange frogs and insects out in the wet and murk, their warped biologies and instincts not abating the one springtime party they all seem to throw.
With the rain past it's a struggle to get a low campfire going, not because it's necessary but because it's strangely relaxing to be able to lean against one vehicle's giant tire, low flames flickering in their little circle of rocks driving back some of the damp, and listen to the noise going on out in the water.
The small fire is an ongoing, silent invitation. Most people might be asleep, but there was always someone coming and going at night. Sure, dinner might be gone, bones charring gradually black amidst the flames, but there'd be fire if someone wanted to reheat another meal without hunting the entire kitchen up at this hour.
Most of his armor is for the moment missing, stripped just to the black undersuit, foraged orange gloves, shoes and nothing else; the evening's warm enough for more to not be necessary, and with the shield up, what feral demon was going to attack successfully? After the frenetic work of the past while, it's ... almost peaceful. People kept telling Heat this isn't Nirvana. The only thing that made it not so to him was his absent comrades.
What: Maybe apologies. eventually, getting drunk.
Where: Convoy!
When: Late evening, after the shield is fixed
Warnings: May contain ANY of the following: Alcohol, drinking, adult themes, canon typical violence, carnivory, mention of cannibalism, secunit judging everyone organic, Great Old Ones, monsters and shenanigans.
The heavy rain and thunderstorms of the day have tapered off to a thick mist behind the wall of the convoy's newly repaired shield. It does nothing to mute the chorus of strange frogs and insects out in the wet and murk, their warped biologies and instincts not abating the one springtime party they all seem to throw.
With the rain past it's a struggle to get a low campfire going, not because it's necessary but because it's strangely relaxing to be able to lean against one vehicle's giant tire, low flames flickering in their little circle of rocks driving back some of the damp, and listen to the noise going on out in the water.
The small fire is an ongoing, silent invitation. Most people might be asleep, but there was always someone coming and going at night. Sure, dinner might be gone, bones charring gradually black amidst the flames, but there'd be fire if someone wanted to reheat another meal without hunting the entire kitchen up at this hour.
Most of his armor is for the moment missing, stripped just to the black undersuit, foraged orange gloves, shoes and nothing else; the evening's warm enough for more to not be necessary, and with the shield up, what feral demon was going to attack successfully? After the frenetic work of the past while, it's ... almost peaceful. People kept telling Heat this isn't Nirvana. The only thing that made it not so to him was his absent comrades.
no subject
Junkyard rain was nothing like this, but to feel the droplets of water pelting his face again puts him in a wistful mood. Despite everything, he does have some fond memories of the place... especially considering how quiet the Convoy is in comparison to Muladhara after everyone slowly awoke to their emotions.
But his wings unfortunately aren't waterproof, so once the bad weather fades the fire is a welcome source of heat to help dry his feathers. When Serph quietly slips into an empty spot by Heat's fire, he folds his wings forward to dry his pinions, the angle completely unnatural.
To Serph, this kind of peaceful quiet is the sort of thing they would have even more of in Nirvana. If the others were here, there would be undoubtedly even more chatter and laughter. He doesn't have anything to say, content to absorb the atmosphere.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)