Marx Member

My fault, I should've said something earlier.

I'll make a post after Harin.

If it feels natural, then post. If it feels forced, don't.

Sierra Nevada/Lake Tahoe/Lower Montane Forest - Modern Day - Earth Each day begins with the hunt. No hunt is the same; new leaves decaying on the forest floor, a fresh set of tracks, a stream running lower or higher, a world that changes every day, a world that will leave behind the huntsmen who cannot change with her. Sven first wakes well before the birds first chirp, dressing in nothing more than a pair of boots, pants, and a white shirt, the latter two having been hung to dry before he had retired to his home to do what he once had an army of men for. Once he was dressed he went about starting a fire to warm the stew which was more a broth with bits of venison, potatoes, and carrots which happened to be floating about in the same pot. The hunter would sit tight to the fire, both to warm himself for what was to come and to hide away the scent of man which the wildlife was so keen on avoiding any scent not birthed from nature herself. From Sven's lips would spill the hymns of his people, a tone low and rounded, carrying through the silent sleeping wood like the babbling of the streams and the rustling of branches in the winter breeze. He sings the song of a people never meant for this world in a tongue that twists and turns in ways no human could dream to mimic. He sings to the audience of birds who soon will chip the melodies from the branches once the sun crawls up from beyond the mountaintop, and soon Sven will take his leave into the woods carrying only what must weigh him down. A bow of oak with a string of sinew rest on Sven's shoulder, a sling of tanned leather keeping safe a handful of arrows from the same wood his bow was whittled whose heads were made of sharpened obsidian, and an ax which has kept to his side since he was but a boy act as Sven's company as he sets out once more in search of whatever the earth mother shall gift him. He could smell her gift in the air and already longed for what was to come, a hunt worthy of an Asgardian. He set off that morning at the song of the birds, his belly filled with the last of his stew, and his eye searching the sleeping wood for signs of what he was to hunt today. Sven drifted through the wood with deft step, taking moments to hunt for the latest sign of his mark. Gashes fresh set in bark, droppings still pulsating heat, leaves pressed deep into the dirt, prints wide and befitting of the beast he was in pursuit of. Large round paws, much larger than that of any man with curved claws that left deep prints on the moist woodland soil. Sven stepped slowly and calmly at first wind of the black bear, his pace growing to that of a crawl at the sight of the beast. It, in its might, stood taller than any man, lost in a sea of ecstasy as its back grinded against bark, gratified groans rumbling from its wide throat. The beast in its final moment would be robbed of whatever peace it now felt as Sven slowly drew an arrow and took aim, his breathing slowing until his heart pounded in his ears. The arrow flew free as his lips parted for air, the Asgardian saying in a definitive voice, "I, Odin, king of Asgard, give you my thanks for giving so that I may take." The bear dropped with a whimper as life departed her, the arrow doing a fine job entering the exposed neck and making peace with her spinal column. Odin would be sure to use all of her properly and make a burial of her heart, the last respect he could pay to the beast who would give him food, warmth, and whatever those at the resort could make of her. She would be put onto a cart and drawn back to the cabin where she would then be skinned and properly butchered, what Sven needed for the week to be left in his icebox, while the rest would be wrapped in paper and packed onto the sled. The skin would be left to dry by the river where he would take care of upon his return and with that Sven, the one-eyed mountain man would take his leave from the depths of the wood to the very edge of civilisation, the closest he ever felt comfortable to going. Sven was a welcome sight to those who labored at the resort and those that were not familiar with the man tended to avoid him. He stood a foot well above the average man, a beard of rust and a head of hair to match, an eye patch hiding the pit where once an eye made home, and an ax dangling by his side as behind him he dragged a sled packed with fresh meat. A man who looked to have more in common with the beast he hunted than the men he sold the meat to. At the door to the lodge Sven dropped the rope and took his time fishing a pipe carved from bone, which he patiently filled and lit, allowing his dear friends the time they needed to come out and greet him. At a glance at the clock on a nearby wall he was ten minutes shy of his usual 9a.m. arrival time, but then again he always was one for punctuality.

"Come on, man." Leonce groaned as Drake went on about not being flexible enough to put his own foot in his mouth, "It's not meant to be taken literally. It's-" He stopped when the boy continued to go on, bringing to his attention that not only was Drake without friends, but without family to talk to. It was going to be a headache to help him become less of a... robot. Robot was definitely a good way to describe Drake. He was awkward, unaware, and painfully literal. He would've been surprised to find that the boy's nanobots didn't control part of his brain in addition to his arms. The candy being shoved into his face caught him by some surprise. He was used to girls throwing things at his face, but candy felt like more of a reward than a punishment. Can't fault her for trying though, Leonce rolled his eyes and popped another bit of candy into his mouth, turning on his heels to watch her walk away. "Thanks for the candy, dear. Save Drake 'n I a seat, wouldja?" Leonce slowed his pace down a bit as he let Drake catch up, whistling to himself as he waited for the nanobot boy to catch up, watching Esther round the corner and disappear into the mess hall. "You know," he said, looking to Drake with a soft smile, "I don't think you 'n I are all that different when it comes to our folks. I was all on my own when I first got to Earth and had been ever since. Though I wasn't blessed with a mind like yours," Leonce reached out and ruffled Drake's hair as he said that, treating him as if he had known him his entire life, "So I had to get a bit better at dealing with people." Leonce looked ahead, confirming where the mess hall was before looking back at Drake, "So how about you and I work with each other, alright? You lend me that sciencey head of yours and I'll help you get along with our squad mates, alright? We'll start with Esther. She might be acting like she's made of thorns, but I get the feeling something's really bothering her and as friends, we oughtta be there for her. Sound good?"

> So whats everyone up to? :) Reading mostly. Doing some editing for a video project for one of my acting classes. It's all fun and games over here. What about you, Nalls? > I am at robotics working on homework... Is anyone here good with Rhetoric? I'm a dumb former English major going on Journalism, so definitely not me.

There we are. Sorry, best I could do in 10 minutes. Paddington bear hype.

With every back and forth Drake and Esther exchanged, it became harder and harder for Leonce not to sigh. This was getting more painful by the moment and, if he were a better man, Leonce would have have to put a stop to it. Leonce turned to Drake once Esther began to walk again, hearing his question and contemplating an answer. "Here." Leonce said, reaching out and swiping a bag of candy which he ripped open, popping a single piece of chocolate into his mouth before giving Drake a jerk of his head, expecting the boy to follow, and ran after Esther. He shoved the bag into her hand, slowing down to her pace, "I opened it and had my fill. Eat the rest or you'll waste food." No reason to give her a choice when she was making the wrong one and starving herself. Leonce then snapped back to Drake and grabbed him by the arm, jerking him closer to himself and Esther. "Alright, we're going to try this again. Drake, this is Esther, she's stubborn and quick to embarrassment. Esther, this is Drake, he has a much more severe case of foot in mouth than I do." Leonce shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back slightly, letting out a long sigh, "I get he feeling neither of you have interacted with folks outside of your families all that much, now have you?" He paused, mulling over his statement, "So, square one. Drake, don't call girls pretty because your dad told you to. Makes people uncomfortable. Esther, we're your team and if we're trying to help you or offer you food, take it with a smile. Drake, you're unintentionally creepy, we'll work on that slowly." A man rounded a corner, his face glued to a vidpad, completely lost in his own little world. "Oi!" Leonce called out to the man, increasing his pace and closing the gap between himself and the man, "Where's the mess hall?" "Uh..." the man said, looking more lost than he had a moment ago, pausing briefly to scratch the back of his head, "right around the corner. First door on your right." "Cheers," Leonce said, clasping the man on the shoulder and turned around, now walking backwards as he looked to his companions, "Let's eat, talk, and become friends, yeah?" While posed as a question, it was anything but.

Working on a post. Might not finish it before I have to run out and go on a movie date though, so just a warning there.

Gnar is MIA, so it very well might be for the time being.