Having grown up on a farm, there had been instances when Spirit would have to play Mother to baby goats. It was unfortunate and sad, but sometimes, a mother goat did reject a kid, especially if she had too many to feed, or the kid was sickly or small. Ever since Spirit was seven, she'd help take care of all of the babies on their farm - not just the goats. This included her youngest brother, Elvar, whom she had deigned to help her father take care of after her mother was first diagnosed with cancer, when Elvar was only a couple months old.
She honestly didn't expect to have many issues when it came to caring for the kid. However, she did know that baby goats needed to be bottle-fed every four hours or so, but she knew she could probably pay someone to feed him when she was asleep or at work.
Savanna moved out from behind the desk to get a closer look at the baby goat, her golden eyes narrowed in uncertain consideration. "I don't know, Elsa. How do you even know how to take care of this thing?"
"I grew up on a farm," Spirit gave a small shrug, using one hand to awkwardly reach and stroke the kid in her arms. She heard Cyber as she came out of the elevator, speaking before the doors even opened, and she turned sharply to glance at the girl. Cyber had, of course, stopped dead in her tracks, and Spirit realized how the situation must look. With a sigh, she looked back at Savanna.
The kid let out a desperate little cry again, and Spirit's attention was immediately back on him. "Rolegur, Ast," she told him delicately before once again returning her half-gaze to Savanna. "He's injured. One of his legs was crushed. I'm not going to justify myself to you, Balance." The fact that she used the girl's Resistance name did not go unnoticed, and Savanna clenched her teeth before heading back behind the counter.
Turning away from Savanna, Spirit headed towards the elevator, knowing that Savanna would buzz her in. She spared a glance at Cyber, feeling a bit attacked and not particularly wanting to explain herself, and secretly hoping Cyber wouldn't say anything. "Need something, Cy?"
Britters
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Posted: 3/21/2019 at 5:18 PM
Post #432
A city girl, born and raised, that was Cyber. This didn't mean she had never been exposed to things like farm animals or anything. Her mother had loved taking her to petting zoo as a child, even though her grandparents had insisted they were just filthy places, breeding grounds for germs, not a place for a young girl. She had loved seeing all of the animals, feeding them out of her hands, petting each of them and marveling at how different they all felt. Now...
Well, now Spirit was standing in the middle of the lobby of the Resistance headquarters with an injured baby goat bundled in her arms, and Cyber needed to snap herself out of her reminiscing.
"Not a thing," she said to Spirit, her green eyes still staring at the goat (and perhaps lingering on the other woman's...choice of wardrobe), still trying to gather her thoughts, "So what's the plan?" She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded the other woman thoughtfully.
Whatever had been going through Spirit's mind when she'd discovered the baby goat was beyond Cyber's understanding, but if there was one thing that she'd learned the last few weeks...it was that there was no stopping the blonde woman when she set her mind to something. There was something rather attractive about the quality, not that she was prepared to admit such an attraction...yet. Instead she was simply sticking to the creed which had been driving her since they'd met.
The facts were that Spirit was a decent person, and she had taken time away from the kids to help Cyber out in numerous ways. Therefore, she was determined to do whatever she could to help the other woman out.
"I'm 'fraid I don't know nothin' 'bout goats," she said, stepping close to Spirit, "But I'm sure an extra set of hands couldn't hurt." This was going to be a long night...
Creativity
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Posted: 3/21/2019 at 7:45 PM
Post #433
Of course, some parts of Spirit told her that suddenly taking in this baby goat was definitely not a good idea. She normally wasn't an entirely spontaneous person; she preferred to plan things, and organize things, but as it so happened, life was not planned or organized. When Hilmar and Jennifer died, and their children were left orphans, Spirit hadn't expected any of it. When she had lost her twin and her eye, she hadn't expected any of it. What happened with Ingvar, that wasn't planned. Joining the Resistance, that wasn't planned either.
Some of the best and worst things that had happened to her weren't planned, and however much the tried, she couldn't control life. Only people. Only perceptions and impressions. Not life. So, even though she had these doubts, deep down, about just how she'd take care of this baby goat, she knew that she couldn't let them show.
Anything less than strength and stability was a weak impression, and Spirit would not be shown as weak. She would not present herself that way.
She gently bumped against the 'up' elevator button with her elbow, and quickly, the elevator arrived. She entered and beckoned with her chin for Cyber to do the same. "He needs to be fed every four hours. I've had to deal with kids that were rejected by their mothers. It's sad, but it happens. I was actually the best at it out of my brothers."
Sparing Cyber a small grin, Spirit shifted so she could fully look at the other girl, even though her gaze focused on the goat, who had quickly become restless as the elevator began moving. "I think Huntress keeps goat milk in the Council fridge. It's not as good as a doe's milk, but it'll be fine for him. We just need a bottle to use to feed him."
Britters
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Posted: 3/23/2019 at 5:54 PM
Post #434
Despite the late hour, Cyber was feeling suddenly energized. She followed Spirit eagerly into the elevator, sparing a passing glance back at Savanna who was sitting back at the lobby desk with a disgruntled look on her face. Once the doors were closed, her full attention was back on Spirit as the other woman explained about what kind of care the baby goat would need. She listened with rapt attention, not wanting to miss anything.
To try and maintain her focus, Cyber began fiddling with some of her dreadlocks, as she often did when she needed to be able to listen to something important.
"So we'll be needin' ta take shifts," she said amiably enough when Spirit mentioned the kid needed feeding every four hours, "You're gonna have ta show me da ropes." She smiled softly at Spirit as she leaned against the elevator wall.
In truth, Cyber wasn't entirely sure this was a good idea, but regardless of that fact she was quite sure she would have done the same thing. She knew that Spirit had more than enough on her plate to deal with at the moment, but if the blonde woman was determined to do this than she would be there to help in any she could...even if that meant losing more sleep than she already was. She wanted Spirit to knownshe could trust her no matter what, and between the two of them she was sure they could make this work.
When the little goat started to get restless and fussy, Cyber's gaze flicked to it and it was as though a switch got flipped...
"Oh, poor little guy," she cooed soothingly, taking a step forward and reaching her hand slowly out to the animal's head, "It's alright, you're safe now. We're going to take care of you, little Digit." The name popped out without warning, but when it did she laughed a little. It was perfect.
Creativity
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Posted: 3/24/2019 at 1:19 AM
Post #435
Something that Spirit's second-best friend when she was younger, Ingvar, once told her, was 'Erfvafraevi var gott fyrir thig'. The translation was really rough, but in English, he had basically said, 'Genetics were good to you'. Spirit had been only thirteen at the time, but Ingvar was eighteen, and he knew much more than she did. He was sweet to her, and he told her things and showed her things she didn't know before, especially when they started dating, very shortly after that statement was said.
He had told her that genetics were kind to her, and Spirit knew that she had been born with a beautiful face, but genetics weren't always so nice, she reminisced as she pressed her back against the wall of the elevator. She did have a bad back - a nice little gift from her father, she supposed. The farm wasn't good for her, and the warehouse certainly wasn't good for her. But she was very good at ignoring her own pain.
"'Digit'?" she echoed Cyber, tilting her head to the side a little and studying the girl. "I know my English is very good, but it is my secondary language. Still... I am not certain that's a real word. Is it another little accent thing you say that makes no sense?"
Truth be told, Spirit liked Cyber's way of speaking. It was unique. It was so... Cyber. It was also somewhat amusing, and it actually had a tendency to lighten up conversations. If anything, Spirit was glad that the other girl seemed so eager to help out with the goat - Digit, she supposed he was called now.
"His leg was crushed by a metal beam, but I know how to set a broken bone. I can find some gauze that will work better than my old warehouse shirt, and we can get him fixed up." Looking down at the little goat, Spirit couldn't help a small smile. This could be a good thing.
Britters
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Posted: 3/25/2019 at 8:35 PM
Post #436
As they rode in the elevator, what was a generally short journey felt forever to Cyber as she began to feel her focus on the goat lapse and jumped to Spirit. She had been here for just over two months, and her attraction to Spirit had grown to a point that she couldn't ignore the signs anymore, but for now she was treating it like a crush. The blonde woman was simply gorgeous and she had a magnetic personality, but she had no evidence that Spirit would even receive her attraction favorably.
The hard way was how Cyber had learned to not just blurt out to every woman she met that she was attracted to them, and it was a lesson she strove to remember at all times.
"Oh, its English," she said to Spirit, managing to pull her head out of the clouds just in time to hear the other woman's question, "It'sa word meanin' numbers or fingers." She waggled the fingers on her right hand in Spirit's direction, a slight smirk on her face, then she shrugged. "Just popped into muh head. Nana always said that animals will let you know their true name if you give them a chance." She reached up to scratch her nose and adjust her glasses.
Even though Cyber knew that Spirit had met her grandmother, Nana Jones, it still felt strange to be sharing her "teachings" with someone outside of the family. Honestly, it felt strange sharing her in any capacity with someone who was still, in essence, a stranger. It didn't make her feel uncomfortable, despite the strangeness, which should have told her more about the exact nature of her attraction to Spirit than what she'd already surmised. Unfortunately, it was something she simply shrugged off without further investigation.
Suddenly, as often happebed with Cyber's attention issues, a random thought that was completely unrelated to anything she had just been thinking about popped into her head...and she started laughing hysterically right as the elevator dinged their arrival.
"Oh, man," she said, choking down her laughter when Spirit gave her an inquisitive look, "I can't wait to see Jojo's face when he meets Digit." The elevator doors slid open and she walked out, still laughing softly to herself.
Creativity
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Posted: 3/25/2019 at 10:33 PM
Post #437
It was apparent that the goat was now named Digit. Not that Spirit had anything against that. It was, in fact, a rather cute word, and Cyber's definition - a number, or a finger, definitely had an odd sort of appeal to it. It was endearing, too, the way that Cyber waggled her fingers, as if to emphasize the definition. Spirit couldn't help a small smile, and she felt compelled to look away, for a bit of head had risen to her face.
Cyber was a friend. A new friend, but a good friend. And the fact that she could make Spirit smile when she was so worried about how she'd take care of yet another kid... That was a good thing. Why was it embarrassing, though?
Spirit was grateful when the elevator opened up before them, and Cyber kept on talking. She couldn't take her mind off of how fondly Cyber had talked of her Nana. Spirit knew that she had opened up the option of taking the woman to the Resistance when she had first recruited Cyber, but the other girl had shot it down. Too traditional. Too set in her ways. Thinking back on the last couple of months, Spirit realized how much Cyber had helped her. She didn't hesitate to help take care of the kids when Spirit needed it, and now, she was fully jumping into the idea of taking care of the goat, accepting shifts, even though Spirit was fairly certain she hadn't ever taken care of any sort of farm animal before, having been from the big city.
"You should bring your Nana here," she suddenly spoke up, her hand springing forth to close around Cyber's wrist, just about interrupting whatever idea had made her nearly hysterical with laughter. Spirit took a step forward, but she didn't make it much farther, almost overwhelmed with the fact that she had to give back.
So, she stood in the doors of the elevator, with her hand on the soft brown wrist, and she stared intently into her face. "I mean it. W-we have resources. Remember? I told you we have resources. You've seen now. We have all sorts of Abilities, and someone's Ability is always useful for something. We don't have anything that can heal, but we have some that can help. I promise you. We can keep her safe here." She didn't know what exactly had overcome her, but now she couldn't hold it back.
Cyber really seemed to love her Nana...
Britters
Level 72
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Posted: 4/15/2019 at 10:46 PM
Post #438
Scared...so very scared. The emotion dominated and conquered, trying to destroy everything in its path. Trembling fingers, quick and rapid breaths that felt like they were being forced through a pinhole, but feet inched ever forward. It was too much, too much for a person to withstand. All of the research, all of the planning, all of the rehearsing...
None of it had even come close to preparing Symphony for what she was about to do.
That day...Symphony could remember it in such vivid detail. She could see the moss growing from between the cracks of the chipped and broken sidewalk, and the lacy curtains on the front windows with their subtle pattern that was impossible to make out from this distance. There was a short chainlink fence between her and the house which had her gripped in such utter terror. All she had to do was open the gate and walk up to the door. It seemed like such a simple thing...and yet...
What if they rejected her? What if they laughed at her? What if they told her they wanted nothing at all to do with her?
All of the doubts which had plagued Symphony for months came crashing back down on her. She stood in front of the gate, green eyes wide and staring behind her glasses, feet no longer carrying her to her goal. This has been a bad idea, she was convinced of that now, and she should just turn around and go home. If it hadn't chosen that moment to begin raining, she might have done just that, and it wasn't just a little drizzle either. It was as though the heavens had decided to open up and pour out every last ounce of water they'd been storing up.
"Ah!" shouted Symphony, the sound jolted out of her as she threw her arms up to cover her head, "No, no, no!" She reached down and fumbled with the latch on the gate until it swung open. Scurrying to get away from the rain drops, she tore across the yard without a second thought and quickly found herself on the stoop where the roof shielded her.
Now the door was there in front of her, and Symphony's heart resumed its pounding rhythm. She'd passed the point of no return once she'd opened the gate, and now she had only one choice. She slowly extended her hand out towards the doorknob, working as hard as she could to keep her panic at bay...but she never opened the door. Instead, it was as though one minute it was closed and the next it was wide open
"Hello, child," came the warmest, most wonderful voice Symphony had ever heard in her life, "How long was you plannin' on standin' out there? Better get yourself on inside." The woman was old, with a dark wrinkled face and hands. Her silver hair was like a halo around her head, and Sympnony was aware she was staring.
"Ma'am, I'm...," she started to say, but the old woman cut her off as she threw her head back and laughed loud and full.
"Oh, child," the old woman said to her, brown eyes shining with mirth and something that Symphony would later discover was love, "I know who ya are. Now get your behind in here before my cookies burn."
-----
Suddenly finding herself staring down at the hand which was closed around her wrist, Symphony shook her head firmly as she struggled to throw off the effect of such a powerful memory. She knew that what felt like an hour to her had been mere seconds for Spirit, but when she looked up at the blonde woman she could feel that her eyes were still miles away, hurrying back to the present. She blinked them several times, shocked to find them moist. It felt too good to be true, that was the problem...but perhaps it was time for her to take a leap of faith, just as she had that day in the rain.
"Sure," she said to Spirit, her voice initially coming out as a croak, causing her to clear her throat firmly, "If you could help her at all...I would be forever grateful." She smiled at Spirit, a soft, cautiously trusting smile. It was one thing to trust the Resistance with herself...it was another to trust them with her Nana.
Creativity
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Posted: 4/16/2019 at 11:17 AM
Post #439
Ever since she and Howl had been released from quarantine, Trace had been confused, to say the least. She had mostly avoided him, not quite understanding how to feel about the kiss they had shared. On one hand, it was absolutely amazing, warm and comforting and everything she had been deprived of for years on this island, and perhaps, even, for years before hand, if she'd admit.
She had never thought of Howl as, really, anything more than a possible friend, maybe a partner-in-crime when it came to screwing with the scientists, or a makeshift vet when her horrible creature had acted up. Some part of her thought that Kutta had told Howl more than she knew, that Howl knew about her heart issues, but she had no way of knowing.
On the other hand, she was happily married... And if she did something, would she be able to enjoy her marriage with Erik as well as she did before? Part of her thought that that was stupid, that of course she would. That was off of the island. This was on the island...
The only thing she seemed to have come to a decision on was the fact that she definitely needed to talk to him, if only because the sight of those scars on his back recurred in her mind more often than she'd like to admit.
It wasn't hard to find Howl. He was in his usual spot, and without saying a word of greeting, she sat down beside him, her legs out and her hands rubbing her thighs as she avoided looking at him.
"Where did ya get those heaps of scars on your back? Deadset."
-
Everything was a mess. Ziva had truthfully found that everything was a mess now, and not just her life. Her emotions, they were a mess. Her relationship with Diego. That was a mess, too. Even the closet in the infirmary, which seemed as if stuff had just been tossed lazily into it all across the years. She was desperately trying to get her life back in order, making actual attempts to get her emotions in check when she was around Diego. And, for the sake of cleaning, she had decided today to sort through all of the equipment in the infirmary closet.
Her short hair was pulled back into a tiny little ponytail, no more than a few inches past the rubber band that she had found in a drawer in the infirmary. Some of the equipment was heavy, but not overly so that she was unable to remove it from the closet and sort it into its own pile by use. She figured she'd sort them, and then decide if there was anything they didn't particularly need. Already, she found multiples of machines, old and used rolls of gauze, bloodied bandages, and plenty more she could dispose of to clean it up a bit more.
Reach was in the infirmary, poring over files like she normally did. Ziva had helped her with the files some, but she was better at organizing them than actually copying and updating. Her handwriting was decent, yes, but it really wasn't overly good. And besides that, writing in English was... significantly harder than speaking it. She wasn't very good at spelling in English.
In her defense, she did know five languages, rather fluently, and writing was not her strong suit to begin with. She loved to read, yes, and she was certain, if she spent more time reading English books, it could help, but she had never been overly good at writing. Essays in school were done with reluctance and several hours' worth of work, and still resulted in somewhat low grades, in comparison to her test scores and homework scores. She was intelligent, but writing... She did not like writing.
So, she mostly left that part to Reach, and instead focused on taking care of the people that came in and cleaning the place. That was what she could do.
Britters
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Posted: 4/18/2019 at 6:14 AM
Post #440
If someone were to ask Howl what his favorite thing to do to pass the time was he would most certainly not say thinking (he would say eating), but he was currently very deep in thought. It was a condition he'd been finding himself in frequently ever since he and Trace had been released from quarantine. Though he had seen her only in passing between then and now, it still didn't surprise him that she was the source of nearly all of his thoughts lately. She dominated his mind, obstructing all else...even food.
Lying flat on his back in the grass, Howl stared up into the clear blue sky, his gold-flecked silver eyes watching a wisp of cloud drift lazily by without really seeing it. Things had happened so quickly when he and Trace had been caught investigating that mysterious box, and then they'd been tossed into that room together. The first twenty-four hours had passed without incident, and that was how things should have continued. There had been no need to tip the scales into chaos, but she had cried and he had been unable to control himself.
I shouldn't have kissed her...
You humans are really good at overcomplicating things.
To add to his unsolicited comment, Chap thumped his heavy tail hard on the ground and gave an exasperated bark. Just as Howl pushed himself up on his elbows to glare at Chap and give his rebuttal, his eyes found themselves looking right at Trace, and it felt as though his entire body was blushing. He blinked as she sat down next to him and try as he might he was unable to keep his gaze from drifting to her hands as she rubbed her legs. It was only her question which snapped him back to attention.
"Hello to you, too," he said, arching an eyebrow at her but with his mind already whirring into action as he mulled over what she'd asked him, "Not much to tell." It was the truth but not all of it. His story was not uncommon, but it certainly wasn't boring. He didn't speak of the past, for it was behind him, but she was asking him something personal...and he couldn't not answer her. "Growing up on the streets as a kid...the only way to survive is to be taken into a gang to be used as a thief and general errand boy. Some gang leaders are harder on their flocks than others." Not much...but it was enough.
-----
Clutter, disarray, muddle, jumble, mishmash...so many words, but one common meaning: a mess. That was what Reach's life felt like. Nothing was where it should be, there was no order, and the view was getting more dismal by the day. Her temper was short, her shoulders were tense, and her pale blonde hair was frizzing more than usual giving her a wild, untidy look. There were actual bags under her eyes despite how tolerant she was to little sleep, which was probably because she had been staying awake for more than twenty-four hours at a time.
Truthfully, Reach was grateful that she had let Ziva stay that first morning she had appeared in the infirmary. It had gone against her better judgement at first, but the teenager was surprisingly intelligent. She had proven herself useful, however, while she was bright, followed directions well, and handled herself well with the patients (though Reach had a feeling Ziva would disagree with this assessment), the fact was she struggled with the reading and dictating portions of the job. This meant that today the teenager was busy cleaning and organizing the closets in the infirmary building which had accumulated heaps of junk over the years.
That was fine really, since pouring over the files and scratching out notes in a frenzy of paper and ink was all that kept Reach sane these days. She wanted to just forget about Wire, but even if she wasn't stuck in the compound and therefore saw the other woman all the time, she could never forget her. If only she could have seen it sooner, maybe she would have made different choices. Maybe if she hadn't been practically slapped in the face with the reality of what her feelings were while Wire was possibly dying she could have reasoned better with herself. But that hadn't happened, and now she knew that she had lost what she'd wanted so desperately to preserve.
"And so what?" she muttered to herself, considerably louder than she meant to, pushing her glasses up her nose in an irritated gesture, "If she weren't so pigheaded she would have given me more time to explain. I just needed more time, couldn't she see that? Really, this is all her fault!" By the time she'd reached the end of the last sentence, her voice had raised several levels and found herself ranting indirectly at Ziva.
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