|
Post by Flare on Apr 18, 2020 21:42:57 GMT -6
At the first sign of darkening clouds above his head, Flare worked to find the largest containers with no holes or cracks to collect the rainwater. Mannah still remained a precious resource for him, and he didn't have freshly drawn water constantly available. Not like a sink. There was a small burbling spring in the garden's setup, but not nearly clean enough to drink without having to try and boil it. Or just retrieve a waterskin. The sky opened up and poured. First lesson of the not-desert, anything that wasn't sand turned to mud. That, and mud did not bode well for sticks driven into the ground. The residual crash of tent stakes and canvas didn't wake Flare from his slumber, flat out asleep in his barrel, his wooden limb poking out just barely out of the barrel's mouth, dripping with rainwater. But a panicked yelping howl did wake him up. With the canvas covering the opening and something struggling outside. 1 x.20
|
|
|
Post by Flare on Apr 18, 2020 21:48:05 GMT -6
Hardly aware of his surroundings except for reaching outside, the tumaian struggled through the mud and the downed canvas until he found himself half bare standing in the rain. Thrashing about in a smaller barrel shaped bump of the tent came a yelp and scrabbling. Panicking at the confinement. Flare struggled to get the canvas up to allow his rakai to bolt out from under the heavy woven cloth, skidding in the dirt with his fur plastered with mud and red eyes wide with fear. What what! Why home go down?! The animal joined his alpha who seemed to be less awake but as they stood at the sight of the flattened tent, now filling gradually with rainwater and making it much heavier to lift. Water plastered Flare's hair to his forehead, his brilliant colored bangs now flat strings down his face. How that this not woken him up. Now they had to figure out what to do with the tent, and cover up his harvests box. 2 x.20
|
|
|
Post by Flare on Apr 18, 2020 22:07:14 GMT -6
The struggle to lift up that heavy canvas did not help with having limited footing. His wooden limb stood strong but his normal leg wasn't nearly as strong, and kept slipping in the mud. Standing back in the rain, Flare shivered from the effort of trying to move the heavy canvas. His breath came in cool visible bursts, as the rain had turned somewhat cold. A sharp shiver traveled up his spine. The rakai's barrel had been the first thing he unearthed, and stepped aside to let him bolt inside the barrel... oh boy was that going to smell badly when the rain stopped. He needed a break, and hobbled off to find a place to get out of the rain briefly. As he hobbled, wincing with every other step from his very tired limb, still soaking wet from the rain, he passed an open door on the main road... 3 x.20
|
|
|
Post by Flare on Apr 18, 2020 22:25:12 GMT -6
"You look like someone in need of an umbrella." He looked up from staring ahead, looking to his right from where the voice came from. A young woman with a large pole angled over her head, but not getting wet stood outside her door. "Precious Parasols for sale, from umbrellas to a lady's fine parasol for all ocasions." she chimes at him. A few seconds crawl by as the rain continues to fall, but less heavily now. he sneezed, a shiver running through his soaked frame. Clothes barely clinging to his thin figure. "Oh dear of dear, come in." she comes out, taking his arm and leading him into the shop. Its WARM in here, considerably warmer then outside. There's a roaring fire inside, and its very cozy. Umbrellas are hanging from the ceiling, in all shades, colors, and makes. She's bustling around, and without warning, Flare finds himself bundled heavily in a thick cloth towel and plopped in front of the fire. 4 x.20
|
|
|
Post by Flare on Apr 18, 2020 22:35:13 GMT -6
After a few minutes of resting in warmth, another towel finds itself wrapped around his head. Rubbing at his stringy mane and then left there. Another shiver, almost painful, runs through him. "What in Harvest's green earth are you doing outside on such a miserable day with no protection from the rain?" she asks him. "House fell down." he mutters, pulling the towel closer around his chin. Its almost embarassing to say. "Tent fell down." She didn't seem to quite understand. "Tent... do you not live here in the city?" "Garden. No kenel." "Oh. So you're a visitor. Poor thing, waking up to your tent falling down is terrible. Especially in this weather." She doesn't seem to understand but the confusion doesn't seem to clear up. "Just sit here in front of the fire and warm up. I get you being a visitor. Lets go get you something warm to drink." 5 x.20
|
|
|
Post by Flare on Apr 19, 2020 20:40:13 GMT -6
Within the hour, the tumaian humanish fround himself supplied with a freshly laundered blanket once his shivers started to subside, a piping hot drink of something spiced that he could smell, and wearing what he believed to be a giant canvas with a hole carved in the middle for his head. "Its a poncho silly boy." The woman giggled. "Can't have you sitting around in those wet clothes. They're being laundered as I speak, so I'll have them back to you shortly." She giggles again as her drying guest pulled his head inside the poncho, his paleness now flushed bright red. "If the weather wasn't so bad, I'd be assuming you were here to be hired help." The big gray eyes peeked over the hem at her, curious but silent. "Oh, the weather's doing horrid things to my garden outside. Its muddy and wet and I need to fix stuff up." 6 x.20
|
|
|
Post by Flare on Apr 19, 2020 20:48:21 GMT -6
"Shopuh?" He mutters more to himself from what she can hear. "Help in shopuh?" "No no, outside in the garden, if possible. My flowerbeds need some sprucing up. They'll be nothing but mush after this storm lets up. Pulling weeds and such. Just sprucing really, no heavy labor." Its quiet except for the crackling of the logs in the fire and the occasional noisy sip of spiced liquid. "This is veryee good chai." Flare finally murmurs mostly into the hem of his poncho, peeking out of his blanket shell. He's wrapped up internally of staying very still. "Gooduh spuhice." He sips again. Its warm and hits every point inside to help his insides warm up. There's a few pops as he curls his normal foot's toes, trying not to wince. "Rain stopuh, I helpuh you out." "Really? Its no trouble to just sit in here and dry out. This shop doesn't see many people during a storm." 7
x.20
|
|
|
Post by Flare on Apr 19, 2020 20:56:25 GMT -6
A little while passes in silence before the shop owner gets up and starts bustling around her little shop, mostly tidying up by putting objects from one place to another. She doesn't appear to be a person able to sit still for very long without doing SOMETHING. Humming some sort of notes to herself as she works. Shifting his posture to wrap thin arms around his knees, drawn up to his chest, Flare rests his chin on his knees, staring into the fireplace. Each crack or pop of the wood in the fire is very subtle. What sort of wood did the pethians use to burn. It doesn't put too much smoke out into the room, just warmth and the smell of burning wood. Perhaps its the magical hum inside him but it doesn't lead to any answers on wht he could do to help the woman out for warming him up. 8 x.20
|
|
|
Post by Flare on Apr 19, 2020 21:00:39 GMT -6
Clattering sounds of boards draw Flare from his flame bound reverie to look up and around. The window, once shuttered, is now showing a broken ray or two of sunlight, and the umbrella woman is poking her head out. "Looks like its finally starting to clear out at last." she finally pulls her upper half inside and closes the window, shaking a few drops from her bound up tussled hair. "Wet season in Pethia, so much fun." she makes a face, and heads out into the next room. Returning with his clean and folded clothing to deposit beside him. "There you go, all clean and dry. When you're dressed, I'll show you the garden. Its probably all mud, but the weeds'll be easier to pull now." The clothing vanishes under the canvas poncho and his head as well, with rapid noises of shifting fabric onto flesh. Finally, Flare comes out of his shell of poncho and blanket, his stringy mane touseled and a bit damp. Following her outside. 9 x.20
|
|
|
Post by Flare on Apr 19, 2020 21:06:49 GMT -6
The mud squishes between his bare toes as Flare steps out into the small side yard beside the umbrella shop. He's used to dirt, so wet dirt, mud wans't so bad. Now that the rain stopped, there were puddles everywhere. The ground soaked to bursting and not drawing in any further moisture. Hm. The owner gestures at a few small framed flowerbeds, slightly raised off the ground. The mud is so wet and oversaturated, he can see why it would be considered a mess. There were no flowers here, just a few budded bulbs, which needed more dry soil. The hum of the earth inside of him tolled silently, a sound he could feel but could not hear. What if. Carefully, Flare approaches the flowerbed, and puts his hand into the mud, bringing up a handful closer to his face. Hm. Its so wet there's not much left to look at. [on the soil, and think about flowers] Curious, he put his palm flat on the surface of the mud. {Flowers...} And Flowers started to grow and raise up from the earth just under his hand. 10 [flare casts blossom, 1 earth mp] x.20
|
|
|
Post by Renathan on Apr 20, 2020 2:31:59 GMT -6
You have rolled a success! Your QP will be added to the bank and your prize sent by PM shortly. You may continue roleplaying if you wish!
|
|