Logs:Picking Up The Pieces
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| RL Date: 17 May, 2011 |
| Who: Emmeline, Rhaelyn, Shimana |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Two days after the storm, the islanders are picking up the pieces and putting their settlement back together. Rhaelyn is not fond of the task she's been assigned. |
| Where: Settlement, Western Islands |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
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| The clear afternoon, though cool, is a welcome reprieve from the storm two days previous. The usual set of daily chores are well in-progress, but supplemented by the unpleasant task of hut-repair. Shimana is supervising a set of younger children, none older than seven, in mixing up the mud that will be used to repair some of the worst of the damage-- not that a bunch of kids playing the mud /need/ all that much supervision. Her attention wanders, as it often does, out east towards the sea, but not enough that she's completely oblivious: "Orian! Mud goes in the buckets, /not/ in your sister's hair... there's a good boy." "Now if only he would listen that well during his lessons." Emmeline muses, coming up from along the shoreline with a bucket of water for that mud-mixing. "Good afternoon, Shimana." Like many at this point of the day her tone is growing a little weary with the harder work involved in repair after such a storm. But, even with a few mud-spatters on her and a smudge or two on her face, she's still got a bit of a smile at the ready. "That was some storm. Do you think we're in the clear for awhile now?" Rhaelyn is doing much sighing and groaning and whinning as she sits near one of the fires, making a huge show of wrapping bundles of reeds together with some twine. It's a great show too, the way she flings her hands and wipes her brow and moves the bundles around and wraps and re-wraps but she's not getting much done. It's been the whole day and there's little to show for it. Now and again she glances at the mud makers and right now she's rolling her eyes at the talk of the storm. "Oh, he means well," Shimana remarks fondly. "Sometimes we just forget, don't we?" The little boy ducks his head in embarrasment, and takes a renewed interest in filling his bucket. "I doubt it." Her tone remains upbeat - for the children - but the look she directs towards Emmeline is a little sad. "Season, don't you know. Late fall storms tend to be nasty. We should have at least a seven, though." She turns to squint at the sun, then at Rhaelyn. "So long as we don't do anything /disrespectful/, of course." Is her voice pitched a little louder? Maybe. Emmeline stifles a chuckle when Orion ducks his head; and then dips her hand a bit in the water and flicks some of it playfully at the boy. Hey, if she can't have fun with the kids at all then her job would be soooooooo dull. She then sets her bucket alongside many of the othes waiting for dirt to be mixed in properly. "I'll spend some time making sure the caves are well stocked for emergencies, then." The words accompanied by a simple nod at news of there being about a week prior to the next outpouring. Of course, the words ostensibly directed at Rhaelyn make her glance over, but only for a moment. Rhaelyn 's reed bundle comes all undone in a clatter at her white-knuckled fingers tighten a ltitle too hard and snap the too-thin twine she'd attempted to use. A merry clitter and clatter of sticks fall around her. Perhaps if the children had not started laughing, she would have held it together but as one of the mud-puppies close to her points and giggles, the girl lets out an angry cry and kicks at the various arrangement of reeds and twine and what-have-you. "This is man's work. It is. I can.not do it." Tossing her head willfully she crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes gleaming with would-be tears of frustration. "That would be a very good idea, Emmeline," the older woman remarks as her always-wandering attention re-settles. "Better to have too much food stored than not enough. We can always use it later. /Excuse me/--!" Shimana grows sharp, turning towards the giggling children with a clap of her hands. "If we're done in the mud, I can think of some seeds that need sorting." She commands obedience enough that the laughter subsides, mostly; she doesn't linger, but instead moves on to Rhaelyn. "A moment, Emme-- /Rhaelyn/! That is /enough/." "I'll see to it, then." Keeping busy seems to be keeping out of trouble, so Emmeline is more then happy to heap extra work on herself at the moment. And from behind the elder, the harper gestures towards the fallen reeds with a raised eyebrow for the kids. "Count them while you sort. That should keep you busy, yes?" Such a little teacher. Everything must include a lesson. She's a little taken aback by Rhaelyn's outburst it seems, head tilting a little bit and her brow furrowed when Shimana chides the woman. And oh there is /something/ that she mutters under her breath in a whisper. Probably something like 'About time.' Rhaelyn's glowers. Oh she glowers. Choking on a teenaged angst; of the unfairness of island living. Poor Emme gets a glower and Shimana too because she has blisters on her hands and even, gasp, a splinter. She untangles her thin arms from her chest and points the finger out at the pair of them, "Just -looook- at this. Why...why...? If my father was better, he would not -allow- this." Talk of planning and keeping her spoiled butt fed is lost on her high-self-absorbed-ness. "/You/ lot, keep mixing. I want to see everyone nice and dirty, clear? Emme, keep an eye?" There's kindness in Shimana's voice as she directs the youngsters, though it hardens when she turns back to Rhaelyn. "Everyone has work to do, child. Their fair share. How do you expect to get stronger if your father doesn't allow you to be pushed? Let me see your hands." She's all business as she crosses the remaining feet towards Rhaelyn and holds out her own hand in a clear demand. "What's all this fuss, now?" Emmeline is clearly disgusted that Rhaelyn is whining over the few little blisters on her hands. She simply hasn't yet got the discipline to keep herself *that* much in check, though surely it's admirable that she doesn't do or say anthng more rash then just roll her eyes. Shimana's request is clearly obeyed and done quickly, since the harper steps right up to the children and levies some dirt into another bucket of water - handing sticks out to the children to use to swirl it around in the water. A bit at a time, to draw out the task for them. Hands, both of them, are thrust at the elder, as though she were presenting bloody stumps instead of the pink little fingers with various bruises and a couple splinters. She sniffles angrily, "I don't expect to -get- stronger. I am a girl; by the scales of the seamonster!" Frustration huffs out of her. She doesn't let Shmanna get /too/ good a look at her hands, she has to wipe away her emo tears. "Mara's getting married. -Mara-. She has a face like a hagfish and /she/ is getting married? I had to help mend the dress for her and everything." She glances over at Emmeline, as though she's waiting for her to say something, it's not like she's seeing the other girl busting her fingers on repair work. Rhaelyn did that. yup Gentle hands, roughened by turns of hard labor, clasp around Rhaelyn's wrists. "That's not so bad, now. A little seaweed wrap will see those healed up. It takes a strong hand to run a family, you know," Shimana admonishes, perhaps a bit sharply. "Mara is a good girl, does her work, and is doing her duty. If /you/ have found someone you'd prefer, you know you can ask us at any time. But this childish squealing is unbecoming of someone who'd like to be a married woman." She releases Rhaelyn, turning to gesture towards the harper. "You don't see Emmeline squalling about a little hard work every now and then. She has /respect/." That's classic Shimana, quick with a scolding lecture. Emmeline obviously prefers to let Shimana do the talking. Her words are for the children, making them count out the scoopfuls of dirt loaded into each bucket, and how many turns of the stick it's taking to make the mixture thick enough to let set prior to the next step in the process. One might easily surmrise that the level of respect the harper has is directly related to the treatment she herself receives from someone; thus, Rhaelyn hasn't an ounce of it from her. She appears entirely unconcerned with the other woman's injuries. One can hardly blame her though, considering who was present when she nearly became the evening meal one night. Oh sure, draw Emmeline even tighter into Rhae's sights, dangerious blue eyes narrow and cut into the harper as she glowers in that direction. Rhaelyn's harmless though, when it comes down to it. "Emmeline isn't patching up walls." She rubs a hand over the place where Shimana had grasped her, as though to wipe the rough texture away from her, as though that might prevent her from having the same fate. "Father says that I am to wait for guidance and not...muddy the waters until it has been decided for me." So, the girl does know about respecting traditions. "I care for father and I cook and I spend my days in the fields tilling and harvesting but no one notices that. Obviously." "Well if that's what your father says, that's what he says," Shimana agrees readily enough. "Emmeline has other duties. You have yours." She straightens, folding arms across her chest. "Why would anyone pay special notice to a girl doing her duties? Nobody praises the sun for shining. It simply /does/, as it's supposed to do. Come." She turns, gesturing sharply or Rhaelyn to follow. "You'll be no use with those hands. You can help the children mix mud; we'll find someone more able to finish your chores." It's the sort of scold that she usually reserves for the younger set-- an attempt to shame them into doing their responsiblities. "Thank you, Emmeline, for minding." For the mudders, at least, it's smiles all around. "Emmeline isn't patching up walls because she's been lugging buckets of water. And teaching the children their lessons. And working in the fields. And helping with lunch." The harper replies drily, incapable of allowing the slight to pass by unremarked. "Keep mixing - there's at least 5 more scoops for each of your buckets. Make it perfect for the people working on the walls." she encourages, ruffling the hair of the young charges before she turns back to Shimana and nods firmly. "No need to thank me." Besides, now she's irritable and thus she grabs more of the empties to take back and refill. Something, sinister, flashes in Rhae's eyes at Shimana's words. She holds her tongue though, the expression is enough to warn of trouble ahead, even though it only shows for an instant before she turns her head with a toss of hair. A dismal look is offered to the mud and mess but she does follow, the attempt to shame her failing, but offending her at getting dirty is probably gets a better end result. She picks up one of the stirring sticks for the mud, taking it between two fingers gingerly. "Of course you do Emmeline. And patch up the sick and heal the wounded and read the sea-signs too." "Important tasks, every one," Shimana agrees, as if Rhaelyn were being perfectly reasonable. "Reading the sea keeps us all alive. If you think you've an aptitude, you're welcome to sit in at lessons with Rilka and my daughter." She doesn't bend to a bucket herself, but rather rests a hand on a little girl's shoulder while turning her gaze back, momentarily, to the horizon. "Everybody has a place, Rhaelyn. If you don't find your own, it will be given to you." "If only." Emmeline replies, her smile growing when Rhaelyn's acid-laced recital reaches her ears. "What is it you think you should be doing, Rhaelyn?" There's a shade of honest curiousity in her voice. "I mean, aside from being married. That's one of the things you'd like, right?" Rhaelyn draws her shoulders up, "Well, I don't know Emmeline, apparently working the fields and harvesting and cooking and attending to my father and the oldsters is not enough of a place or enough of an effort for me to be applying. I am not good with fixing houses but I was -trying-." And failing, which perhaps is a big reason for this tirade, "I am tired of being reminded that I am not as perfect as some others. And reading the signs did not keep everyone from getting caught out in the storm." She reminds nastily regarding the young girls and fishers, "Have they even come back to camp yet?" At least she has some compassion that the concern for her fellows distracts her from the irritation and the mixing of mud. Shimana stiffens perceptably, prompting the little girl under her hand to crane her neck upwards curiously. "I can't force people to heed my warnings. Everyone takes responsibility for themselves." She pats the girl in the shoulder distractedly, then paces a few steps towards the beach path. "I expect everyone to take responsibility for whatever it is they can do. Even /you/, Rhaelyn." "None of us are perfect, Rhaelyn. I don't know anyone who's tried to claim otherwise." While she doesn't exactly use a soothing tone, neither does Emme appear to be trying to antagonize. "I know I haven't heard anyone say that working fields, harvesting, and cooking is not enough of an effort. But what do I know?" And with her buckets in hand, she trudges away a bit to fill them at the shore. Rhaelyn looks out at the entrace of the cave, squinting a little, "Well, does anyone know if they came back? Did anyone go to find them?" She's stuck on that question rather than the other. Her expression goes unreadable as she looks away from the cave entrance and picks at one of the splinters. "I think some of the fishers out today were due to check the nearby islands, to see if they'd been-- relocated. Perhaps the sea was generous, yet." Shimana's hands clench together, and she scans the horizon from north to south. "I haven't heard that anything has-- been found. Have you, Emmeline? You've been at the shore the most today." "I know the missing fishers came back in the morning. They were there at breakfast. And they went back out later to look for the girls who'd been lost." Emmeline replies, glancing between the other two as she relates what she knows. "But I've not yet heard whether they returned with good news or not." she admits, setting her burden down slowly. "There's still plenty of light left, and they brought food and blankets with them to make sure the girls would be warmed and fed before they had to make the trek back." The darkhaired girl frowns and then sighs and sighs again, "I was going to go with them..." Rhae admits. It's right about then that a old, grey-faced man comes limping from the back area of the caves, "Rhae? Rhae? Can you help me? I can't seem to find...." Rhae's father has the usual lost and vacant look about him and Rhaelyn's shoulders sag with worry, "Father, you should be resting..." Rushing over to his side she helps lead him back into the warmth of the caves, soothing his quavering worries as they go. Shimana gives her self a shake, turning just in time to catch the appearance of Rhaelyn's father. Lips purse as she watches the girl leave, but she doesn't comment; instead, she heads back towards the children and starts inspecting mud buckets. "This is very good," she murmurs, taking a moment before acknowledging Emmeline. Finally, though, "I just hope the sea has been merciful to those poor girls. Such a shame. Please do let me know if you hear anything more, Emmeline?" "So do I. I hope they're found safely." Emmeline murmurs, her shoulders sagging some now that it's just the two of them there talking. "I'll tell you as soon as I hear something." she promises, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. And thus, smearing more mud across her face. "I think... I'll go clean up a bit. So I can help prepare dinner. I'll speak to you soon, Shimana." "Thank you, Emmeline. You're a dear." Shimana offers a warm smile for the young woman, then turns to her charges. "Alright, I think we've gotten our mud just right-- let's go down to the stream." |
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