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aenseidhe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tushanshu_logs2013-02-12 03:53 am
aenseidhe) wrote in tushanshu_logs2013-02-12 03:53 am
[OPEN] I just want to play on my pan-pipes
Characters: Iorveth and YOOOU
Date: 2/12
Location: Outskirts of the Wood sector
Situation: Elf sits in tree doing typical elf shit like having pointy ears and playing his manly elf flute and leaving traps that will set you on fire.
Warnings/Rating: Nothing really? He won't let anyone actually step on the traps :| Unless anyone is Dean Winchester.
[ A suitable tree hadn't been hard to find, nor had been setting out the sturdy enough, thick enough branches and wooden planks over a couple level enough arms of the tree, nor the subsequently lashing them down with rope to make a makeshift sort of lofted platform with room enough for him and his pack alone. Setting the traps had been more of the difficult part. It wasn't that making and setting them were particularly hard - the crafting second nature to him after so many years - but it was more trying to find materials for the last few, after he exhausted the ones he had with them. That, and, listening to a bunch of humans telling him how horrible he is for wanting to put up fortifications where he sleeps. It's been laughable how absurd it is, and he almost wishes another Scoia'tael, or Geralt were around just to hear it. The day he sleeps without a bow in hand and something around to wake him if another approaches is the day he finds himself in a free Elven state, far out of Nordling or Nilfgaardian lands. He wouldn't even had mentioned it if he wasn't concerned a Kedan might wander by.
Despite the fact he'd sarcastically told someone he would set up a warning sign, there is no sign at all, as that would completely defeat the purpose of traps, but the elf seated high up on his lofted landing in the tree, partly camouflaged in the branches and leaves, is keeping an eye down at the area below. Just in case some idiot actually comes wandering out here. As much as he'd love to let them right into the trap that will ignite and light them up like a bonfire, A.) he doesn't want to waste the trap on an unobservant simpleton and B.) he doesn't want to have to evade guards without knowing the land well enough to hide somewhere and/or be wanted for murder quite yet.
So, with bow placed over his lap and quiver close by on the landing, he's idly playing at a wooden flute - a simple, soothing kind of tune that echoes nicely through the forest. It's something of home that relieves the tension a little that he'd been holding off since arrive. The woods here aren't like those in Temeria or Aedirn. They aren't as full, and the air still smells weirdly of sea. But he'll have to get used to it. He doesn't have a choice. If the phenomenon is what he thinks it is, he could be here for a short time, or he could be here forever. He can't know. At least not yet. ]
Date: 2/12
Location: Outskirts of the Wood sector
Situation: Elf sits in tree doing typical elf shit like having pointy ears and playing his manly elf flute and leaving traps that will set you on fire.
Warnings/Rating: Nothing really? He won't let anyone actually step on the traps :| Unless anyone is Dean Winchester.
[ A suitable tree hadn't been hard to find, nor had been setting out the sturdy enough, thick enough branches and wooden planks over a couple level enough arms of the tree, nor the subsequently lashing them down with rope to make a makeshift sort of lofted platform with room enough for him and his pack alone. Setting the traps had been more of the difficult part. It wasn't that making and setting them were particularly hard - the crafting second nature to him after so many years - but it was more trying to find materials for the last few, after he exhausted the ones he had with them. That, and, listening to a bunch of humans telling him how horrible he is for wanting to put up fortifications where he sleeps. It's been laughable how absurd it is, and he almost wishes another Scoia'tael, or Geralt were around just to hear it. The day he sleeps without a bow in hand and something around to wake him if another approaches is the day he finds himself in a free Elven state, far out of Nordling or Nilfgaardian lands. He wouldn't even had mentioned it if he wasn't concerned a Kedan might wander by.
Despite the fact he'd sarcastically told someone he would set up a warning sign, there is no sign at all, as that would completely defeat the purpose of traps, but the elf seated high up on his lofted landing in the tree, partly camouflaged in the branches and leaves, is keeping an eye down at the area below. Just in case some idiot actually comes wandering out here. As much as he'd love to let them right into the trap that will ignite and light them up like a bonfire, A.) he doesn't want to waste the trap on an unobservant simpleton and B.) he doesn't want to have to evade guards without knowing the land well enough to hide somewhere and/or be wanted for murder quite yet.
So, with bow placed over his lap and quiver close by on the landing, he's idly playing at a wooden flute - a simple, soothing kind of tune that echoes nicely through the forest. It's something of home that relieves the tension a little that he'd been holding off since arrive. The woods here aren't like those in Temeria or Aedirn. They aren't as full, and the air still smells weirdly of sea. But he'll have to get used to it. He doesn't have a choice. If the phenomenon is what he thinks it is, he could be here for a short time, or he could be here forever. He can't know. At least not yet. ]
no subject
Even after the question is shot at him and the humanoid turtle goes poking at one of the traps, Iorveth takes the time to finish out that bit of his song before setting the flute aside, tone casual and unperturbed. ]
No, it was the gnome that passed by earlier. Apparently he thought I'd needed some protection. [ Obvious sarcasm, but less dry and more amused. It was definitely him. ]
no subject
Wow, suspicious much? What if I stepped on one of these?
[He wouldn't, but WHAT IF HE HAD? He'd be barbecue, that's what.]
no subject
Then I imagine you'd be in a lot of pain. [ He would have stopped him before he did, honestly, but it's more entertaining to be contrary. ]
no subject
What're you doing up there anyway? Don't you have a house?
no subject
I do. It wasn't quite to my liking, so I found myself a spare.
no subject
A sad little treehouse is "to your liking." Okay. Whatever floats your boat, nature boy.
[Raphael considers briefly disabling the traps, but the guy will likely just set them up once he leaves again. He crouches to take a closer look at it.]
no subject
[ And as he bends down to look closer, if a hand moves to disable or touch it at all, Iorveth will be snapping off and arrow quickly and accurately, landing an inch away from the turtle-man's hand.
If it were a simple snare, he wouldn't mind him toying with it, but that's a conflagration trap, and if he sets it off, that'll be one less that he has in his stock. Scoia'tael do not waste. ]
no subject
Whoa! Don't shoot at me, you nutjob!
no subject
[ Said with mild amusement. He has a bad habit of getting a kick out of people thinking he's cray. 8| Because he is a little, mostly. Either way, he shuffles off the makeshift loft to jump down a couple branches, as if traveling through a tree like that is second nature, coming to crouch on one of the lower branches, bow still in hand. ]
Besides, I didn't shoot at you. I shot at the ground.
no subject
[Raph shoves his fist against his hip and jabs a finger in Iorveth's direction, glaring.]
You can't put traps all over the place, you're gonna really hurt some moron who just wanders through here!
no subject
[ A tilt of his head with a 'really, dude? really?' kind of look. ]
They aren't all over. Only around this tree. I did make an announcement.
no subject
Put up a freakin' sign or something! Not everybody sits around on the computer all day like a loser.
no subject
[ Duh, bro. ]
On the what?
no subject
The computer! The freakin' computer where you put up the announcement! [Or so he assumes.]
no subject
[ Idly muttered to himself. ]
You may wish to pay more attention. It seems important announcement can be made upon it.
Such as a warning for traps.
no subject
[OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO FRUSTRATING YOU SUPER-VIOLENT TREE-HUGGING FLUTE HIPPIE]
no subject
[ CENTURY OF PRACTICE YO ]