( open ) there's a road that follows to a home

[cadeuces]

Who: Angela & you!
When: The month of February and onward
Where: Region 2 farmlands, at her cottage
What: A permanent downtime log for house shenanigans!
Warnings: None, but I will update if anything comes along!

[ Angela's work schedule is a fairly clear-cut thing on the best of days. Three days working in Kauto's hospital, three days up on Chioni, and then two days off. Around the time of planet discovery and the initial burst of travels, she hovers around the Ingress Complex to assist any who may return injured, and she's otherwise on call across all three if emergencies required her skills. To say she isn't home terribly often is a fair enough assessment, but she still had plenty of downtime every evening, considering the longer days.

There's a key in the base of the lantern beside her front door, but not everyone knows about it— not even a handful from her own world. Those who do, however, know they have a free pass to her home whether she's there or no. A spare bed to crawl into, a couch to wait on, access to her stash of medical supplies (but seriously just call her for help). A kitchen to rummage through, now often with fresh-baked bread and a steady offering of apples off her trees on hand, as well as any leftovers in the fridge.

Eiger still accompanies her to work as a resident therapy dog, but he could be found around the property when she works her shifts on Chioni, access out the back door through the flap when he no longer feels like awaiting her return at the front. The cottage itself is on a hill and the back extends out on a bridge as an elongated sunroom, stretching out over the creek running through her property. The back door itself leads one to a winding path down through the copse of trees preceding her quaint little orchard of apple and walnut trees, surrounding a gazebo set up with a fire pit and the basics for cooking in warmer weather, hammock piled high in furs leftover from the Midway Hub's game— if anyone chose to visit and didn't have access to her house, this would be the ideal place to camp. (Just make sure to message her so she knows you're there! She'll come around once she's home to let you in.)

If she's home and not in the house, one would undoubtedly find her in that hammock with her work, fire crackling at hand and her cup of coffee long-since cold, Eiger curled up behind her legs. It's not the largest of places, but it's home, and there's blankets on near every surface— even the chairs in the kitchen. The creek is a relaxing babble, the creak of the water wheel partially powering her home, and if she's home, there's always a fire going if it's cold out and coffee going. ]



( ooc: This will be a permanent post for house stuff! I'll be posting monthly headers and any prompts relating to events or going-ons within to link from my toplevels, but I am 100% open to casual plotting or visits; just hit me up at clegane or on discord (gauche#5968) and we can work something out! ♥ )


february ● march ● april ● may ● june ● july ● august

Comments

FEBRUARY

[cadeuces]

[cadeuces]

( arrival ) in the home she's in a lonely room
with music playing

[ The apples had been her main draw, admittedly, with the creek running through a strong second. The cottage itself is quaint and the property upkeep would be minimal, and the standing agreement to give half of her "crops" to the market in exchange for the home was ludicrously fair. She signs the agreement and Eiger is the first to run through the house, padding up the stairs to the loft where both bedrooms existed above the expansive kitchen, which she takes her time to scope out. There's a central fireplace, open on both ends to see through to the living room from the kitchen and vice versa, a mud room at the back heading out to the woods, down to the creek— she wants to hesitate. This should all be temporary, really, but...

...When was the last time she'd ever settled down and had a home? (The answer is: never.) It may be temporary, but she's in love all the same. It's sized just right for her, with plenty of room for a couple others if ever such a thing came to pass. The first night is in an empty home, but she has her air mattress laid out and piled in blankets, and Eiger is always excellent company.

From there, she wastes no time with her sizable funds to find furnishings. The first delivery is without help, smaller bits and the sofa for the living room, the chairs— but once the beds start coming in, the dressers, the appliances? Yeah, she'll need some help. Rest assured, though, there are plenty of crisp apples she's already picked on the kitchen island and she'll make it well worth the assistance come dinner time.

It's a fine balance of shoving things around as more comes in to fill the house, but within a few days it feels like home. Better, there are blankets everywhere. Blankets hanging beside the tub with the towels, blankets on the sofa, blankets in a basket in the mudroom to wander the woods and the orchards all bundled up, blankets over the chairs in the dining room.

After a life of travel, missions, and roaming the deserts of the middle east in war relief efforts— yeah, this is nice. Yet at the same time, she isn't used to being utterly alone, so far removed from others.

...So, yes, some company may be in order, whether it's setting up the place or housewarming for dinner or just spending time in the first week. She'll appreciate it more than anyone could know. ]

( settling ) can she hear my heart coming through
on the door between

[ The two weeks following Eosoros, the house was off-limits to others. Once that period has passed, however, she's back open for "business", and she's starting to get the hang of baking proper bread— not the makeshift loaves she was pulling out of the campfires, but real and properly-shaped, floured and scored, with fresh sweet cream butter to spread on each carved off slice. She doesn't much bake otherwise, though she may have to start getting the hang of it with the abundance of apples and walnuts now at her disposal, and for that she'll need test subjects and assistants (or mentors).

Thankfully, coffee is a constant, and there is no shortage of familiar foods to begin stocking her house with the tastes of home, sausages cured or otherwise and a multitude of cheeses and a near-constant batch of spaetzle fresh from the pot to sautee in butter and herbs— if ever there'd been doubts as to just where she came from, they can safely be tossed out. The cottage is full of German food with a Swiss twist.

And she's beginning to relax. The Moira's uniforms still hang in her closet, but they're all clustered in the back and she's slowly replacing them with a thorough wardrobe as she returns from the markets, finding a piece here, a scarf there, seeing to the cordwainers for more shoes every week. It's a process, certainly, but she's getting there. (And she always comes home with more blankets; one day she'll just need to learn to knit to make her own.) It's getting easy to adjust to this sort of a life as every day passes, certainly helpful that there's plenty to do around the house and the orchards, not that she knows the first thing about caring for landscaping. She collects fruit as she needs it before it falls off the branches, collects nuts from the ground about the walnut trees, and Eiger delights in the room to run.

She walks along the creek in the mornings and evenings, throwing fallen apples and sticks for Eiger with a blanket about her shoulders like a shawl, either coffee or hot chocolate in her travel mug to sip at and stay warm. She'd be happy to have a partner— remember to snag a blanket out the door!

Help her gather from her orchards, come for the coffee stay for the comfort of the couch, cuddle with Eiger, help in the kitchen, or simply be fed because you know she'll offer— there may not be much to do, but she'll always appreciate the company. ]

settling

[gainedlove]

[Frisk had been taking their own time to settle in here in this new home. And for them, that's what Thisavrou most certainly will be: a home, not one with trees lacking leaves or a long, silent walk to a throne room, but a place that they are safe. That Frisk and their SOUL no longer pose a threat to anyone, where nothing will come to harm them--a place to rest. It's taken a few weeks for the idea to fully sink in.]

[But once it had, they knew they had some apologies to make. Which is what finds Frisk at the door to Angela's home, tracked down after a hesitant request over the MID. They...really haven't been kind to the poor woman, pushing her away in ways she hadn't deserved. Frisk knows there are mysteries surrounding them for the good doctor, and today, they're taking a step. Perhaps one of precaution, but...one that needs to be taken.]

[If their Determination ever does start working again, someone will need to know.]

[Frisk takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly before rapping on the door with two quick knocks.]

I-I'm here!

arrival

[desynched]

[ Lena is making her rounds, one person at a time. She finds Angela's farm easily and immediately grins. It's very much Mercy-- filled with life, the soft perfume of flowers wafting through the air, and an elegant but comfortable house at the end of the walkway. It's so pleasant that she actually walks leisurely to the door. She knocks, wondering if perhaps she should've called ahead. But it hadn't occurred to her.

She waits on the doorstep, dressed in a simple shirt and comfortable pants with only the accelerator to make her look unlike an everyday young adult. Lena bounces on her toes as she waits, the basket in the crook of her elbow jostling slightly as she does. ]

Settling

[neverheardofhim]

[There was a lot to see around Kauto, and some of that even happened to be outside of the bars and taverns he'd been lazing about in. Certainly, he spent a fair bit of time simply indulging in comforts that had been lost to him for two months. But eventually, his need for comforts refueled his need for adventure.]

[He'd started in region one, exploring the cityscape with bewildered eyes. Region two, in turn, was far more familiar. There was still evidence of his temporal displacement therein, but it also reminded him of the many weeks he'd spent wandering the Hinterlands.]

[It was on one of these adventures that he happened upon the creekbed, and the woman wandering beside it. He was certain he'd seen her face somewhere, but he'd met a lot of blonde women in his time, and quickly passed it off as nothing more than his brain playing tricks on me.]

[He followed after her, making sure to make enough noise that she wouldn't think him any sort of predator. When he was close enough to be heard without shouting, he spoke.]

Didn't think I'd run into anyone else out here. Hope you don't mind the disturbance.

( closed ) for jack

[cadeuces]

[ Staying in the hospital hadn't been an option for him, not once he'd been taken care of and the knowledge of his identity is now out there to one more person, but she's glad to have him around once he settles in and claims the couch for himself. Seeing him in comfortable clothes and feeling safe enough to leave his mask off around her is a new level of appreciation as they begin to find their new dynamic together, now that he's no longer necessarily her commander (but he'd always be her commander, at heart) and now with his identity in her care... It would take getting used to. For both of them.

For now, though, it's the crackling of the fireplace and Angela curled up at his feet on the couch when he sleeps, or napping in the nearby chair, or simply sitting on the floor with her back to the sofa as he rests, TAB in hand and working. She doesn't stray far, and it's a quiet ease as she simply enjoys his company. Eiger takes to him just as easily and stays close (on orders, yet even so), offering a large head to rest a hand upon, a cold nose to wake him if he grows fitful, and general companionship while Angela's away at work.

What's quickly growing to be her favorite is lounging in the sunroom with him, the door to the small patio above the creek open and bundled in a blanket, soaking in the last of the daylight in the evenings to the sound of water passing over the rocks. For now, though, it's time for her evening walk around the property with Eiger, not so much for exercise as to ensure everything's still in order. She's not accustomed to maintaining this much space and it's her best guess on what she can do to ensure nothing falls too out of place. She's winding a scarf about her neck when she turns back to Jack with another in her hands, smiling. ]

Did you want to accompany me, this evening?

[ With a scarf about the lower half of his face and a blanket about his shoulders in the dark, he should be fine, no? ]

[mylawn]

[Despite having every reason to sequester himself, heal on his own, and reject any further contact with basically anyone but Ana, Jack steels himself and accepts Angela's invitation to stay at her place while he recovers. He's skittish and vaguely uncomfortable, but he tells himself that this will be good for him--that they have catching up to do, and it turns out that her house is quiet and puts him at ease.

That much is evident by the fact that he's able to sleep. It's likely just because he's injured and needs to recover, but Jack is such an infamous insomniac that he's going to take what he can get, even if it's just naps on her sofa. He's a quiet housemate, not saying much, but he knows that Angela is giving him space and won't pry or push him into anything that isn't comfortable.

He's still feeling out just what 'comfortable' is.

One thing hasn't changed, however, and that's the fact that he doesn't quite like being cooped up. Once his injury starts to heal, he gets antsy, so when Angela offers to let him accompany her on one of the walks she takes, he accepts, standing from the sofa and moving to put his boots on.]

Is that for me?

[A rhetorical question. It's very clear the scarf is for him.]

Re: FEBRUARY

[infailtration]

York stops in to visit Angela regularly these days, usually after long security shifts at the Ingress Complex. He wears his armor to work and rarely changes before seeing her -- the receptionists at her clinic have long since stopped startling at the sight of him and his weapons but the first few visits were amusing to say the least. It's late, tonight. They're just about closed up but he's waved in anyway and makes his way down the hall to Angela's office, his footsteps softer than they should have any right to be when he's wearing a full suit of armor.

[cadeuces]

Well, certainly there could be stranger things than a man in a 7' piece of armor coming around to visit the good doctor. (There is also a 7'4" German man who has likely been spotted, but often sans said armor and far more boisterous than York. His laugh can be heard halfway across the hospital and the other staff has come to appreciate York's arrivals compared to the latter.)

As per usual, Angela has a cup of coffee on hand and this time she's she's just finishing up with a patient who's come to see her for nerve pain in a missing limb; her specialty lies in trauma care and it dealt largely in amputations and prosthetics, where a side of physical therapy often went hand-in-hand (no offense to those without hands, though). The massage oils are still properly laid out and her hands are pink from working the man as she sees him off, shaking his hand and accepting the gratitude with amusement. It's simply good to see others feeling better after a visit, knowing they're on the road to recovery and the pain is relieved at least for a little while. It's all a process, in the end.

There's a hefty bag of coffee beans on her desk brought in thanks, as well as a few odd pastries she's not so sure she'll have the stomach to eat— one of them may still be alive. Another one is an eerie shade of blue that has nothing to do with a fruit filling. Those will likely be passed out to Savrii children along the way home, but the sentiment was appreciated all the same, and some of them were normal enough— it's a safe assortment from patients who couldn't be sure what she'd like and just brought a bit of each category.

If she hadn't already been in the hallway, she'd not have heard him until he was at the door. Her surprise, as ever, is pleasant with the tip of her head.

"York; what brings you by this late, dear?"

( closed ) for venom snake

[cadeuces]

[ It's been too long. The immediate thought flitting through her mind when the message had popped up on her TAB with a familiar name attached, just as scarce with his words even over a digital medium, requesting a visit. To look at his arm, he wrote, and her reply goes through quickly enough despite sitting at her desk on Chioni, a literal world away with no reprieve until the evening. Just a few more hours, and she realizes just how very spoiled she's been with such good friends here. She had grown accustomed to seeing one Snake or the other nigh on every day for the last month and change, and near enough even before— camping together, eating together, traveling together. Commiserating over their fates hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder (bicep, rather, on account of their size difference), and once they had arrived here and parted ways to find their new homes?

Well. The jobs were hectic and there had been plenty to do. It would be his first time coming over. Angela sends him the directions, a smiley face, and some well wishes, and she finishes the remainder of her shift with something to look forward to. Someone to look forward to, now that Jack has moved on from her couch.

By the time he's at her door, she's showered and dried and dressed comfortably in an oversized sweater and lounge pants, fur-lined moccasins keeping her feet warm as she pads through the house to metal knuckles rapping gently on old wood, just tying off the braid over her shoulder before opening the final barrier between them. Time and space had had their chance in the spotlight; it's time to move to the back of the line.

Needless to say, as ever, her smile is immediate. Sunny for a split second, but every presence at her door has failed to materialize into the one she still hoped for in the back of her mind, and then it's a landslide from there— everything that's happened since she'd seen Ahab last, some weeks ago, and it shows in the sudden weariness at her eyes and the fractional shift down of her smile. It never loses its warmth, however, because she's never displeased to see him. Just a section of her lacquer flaking off, giving him a peek at the color beneath the shellac.

In fact, she'll just be raising her arms up, reaching for his face to draw him down within her domain. ]

Ahab, it's so good to see you.

[alterplex]

[ Contrary to popular belief, people don't always break like dams: sometimes the trickle is miniscule, a dampness in the ceiling, a stain on the wall. Grief is like a curl in the wallpaper that you forget about in your day to day life, left to fester when you're left alone in your four-walled space and are forced, in some measure, to acknowledge its imperfections.

Malaise peels. Slides along uneven surfacing until your hands aren't enough to hold it up and keep it away from soft carpeting. Venom knows what that feels like— the eventual realization that your walls have finally rolled bare.

He sees the glue melting under Angela's smile. What punctuates his suspicions are her actions. ]

Angela.

[ She's always affectionate, yes. But she's always mindful— she always waits for Venom to catch his breath before tugging their faces too close together.

So Venom frowns, even as he lets her gravity pull his vision to her height, even as he cranes his neck and accommodates the slide of palms to his jaws. ]

...Nice place.

[ He won't accuse her right out of the gate; that's not productive, after all. ]

( closed ) to shiro

[cadeuces]

[ Angela's out walking with Eiger when Shiro arrives, bundled up to stay warm and breath curling up from behind her scarf as the (significantly larger, now) dog trots about his property and ensures everything still smells as it should, a gentle presence that returns to her side when he hears someone else's approach.

Her cottage itself isn't terribly visible from the main road, so she wanted to make sure she wandered down the winding tree-framed path to meet him up front.

It wasn't like Shiro to come off as anything but collected, and so soon after his hospital stay—? Yeah, she worries. So she'd sent him her address and she'll be offering the travel mug in her hands, keeping her fingers warm. ]

Hey, Shiro. Come on in.

[ It's a little bit of a walk, but she'll fall right into step at his side. ]

[shiro2hero]

[A risk.]

[He can still hear her saying it. Still feel how much it stings. How much it feels like she'd lied to him. Because she'd been afraid. She'd been afraid he'd lose focus, lose himself, just... afraid of him. Like everyone else had been, initially.]

[Right?]

[It still feels like the world got pulled out from under him. And part of him hadn't even realized he'd made it to Angela's vicinity. Just too absorbed in his own thoughts. Stupidly. It's not until she speaks that he actually looks up.]

[A little too haggard around the edges for someone who's supposed to be resting.]

Hey. Thank you -- for meeting me.

( closed ) to reinhardt

[cadeuces]

[ Reinhardt hasn't been to her home yet, come to think of it. And what a first invitation it would be— she'd discussed with Jack and tried to convince him to tell the crusader himself. It was starting to unravel, his intricate facade he had kept (not so) well, and Rein didn't deserve to be the last to know. Really, he should've been the first.

Angela had been an accident, in the end, but it seemed to be the beginnings of an avalanche. Now the mountainside was sleeting off and all Jack could do was struggle to stay atop it, and his hesitations were evident to her no matter how she brought it up— gently, straightforward, nudging him along, giving him a shove. She didn't want to continue to pester him so she takes it into her own hands, at least knowing she can mitigate the fallout and they can have a proper discussion after.

It's cruel to go about it this way, though, isn't it? To invite him over, unknowing, just to say she wishes to speak with him and catch up. How unbeguiling. No one deserves that either, much less Reinhardt. The man who's always given his all to those around him, protected them through thick and thin.

He's invited in and she finds her biggest mug to fill for him and there's plates of apfelstreusel, with a mighty slice for him and a dainty sliver for herself, settling at the bar beside him. The middle of the kitchen practically glows— there's gold-red apples in a golden wire basket in the middle, the ceiling yawns above them with open timbering, and sun shines right through all the windows around the little cottage. This is the biggest room for the biggest man she knows, and it's still warm from the oven with spices in the air. The streusel's still hot.

Her fork sinks in to scoop up the first bite, passing through the dollop of whipped cream on the side, and then right into her mouth. Much better than her last attempt. ]

You said your home was in the first region? I hope you didn't have to travel too far, then, and we can pretend we're nearly neighbors.

inhales

[grandpaladin]

[He thinks nothing of her invitation. Honestly, he'd even stopped for flowers, on the way over. Because that's what you did, when you visited a friend. You brought them something too. Even if it was something small.]

[But Reinhardt never does anything by halves. So of course he turned up with a massive bunch of alien flowers. Beaming over the top of them. And of course, he'd collected her into an equally massive hug once they were all settled. Amusement is in every motion. Excitement visible in every expression.]

[Her home is delightful.]

[And food? Well, he's never going to say no to any kind of food, no matter how it tastes. He's grinning at her, waiting to inhale the offering until she takes the first bite. That's only polite, after all.]

Yes... something small and easy to keep. It is hard to believe I have one again! Much different from a truck.

[But he certainly doesn't seem upset by the idea.]

Not far at all! And, I hardly mind. Always good to see more of this place.

MARCH

[cadeuces]

[flashbanging]

[ Angie's place isn't hard to find. McCree essentially looks for the coziest farm on the planet, and when he finds it, he knows he's got the right trail. It's only been a few days since his confrontation with Jack, and he's still aching from it, inside and out. His back's in particularly bad shape--getting thrown against the side of a house by someone with super strength is not good for the bones. He's rubbing an indeterminate spot on his side with his good hand while he knocks on her door with the other one; his metal fist makes a loud, clanging rap against the wood. ]

Angie? Doc, you in there?

[ He sounds a little plaintive. If she doesn't answer, he's just gonna sit right there and wait. ]

[tinkerhell]

[He keeps everyone's schedules close, because its the easiest thing to keep his time occupied. He knows when they leave, when they take lunch, when they return home, their routine errands and other things. Distance between planets has made things harder to track, but when you're an employed mercenary, avenues are open to you.

He's kept his distance from most of them, biding his time, waiting for a stockpile large enough to finish what he'd started with Jack Morrison. It was a slower process than he would have liked -- and then there was the matter of Amari's disappearance.

Probably for the best, but no less infuriating.

When Angela returns to her abode in the evening, she will find her porch already occupied by a too-familiar trenchcoat -- worn in places it hadn't been before, gouges and burn marks in his mask, scuffs in the armor on his arms and legs. Whatever he has been doing, its not easy work -- even for a wraith.

His arms stay folded in plain sight, to show he isn't holding a weapon. After all, he's been out of contact for a few months -- there was no reason to imagine his arrival wasn't suspicious. With Sombra doing her own work on her own time, he only has so many people he can talk to.

That, in itself, was a strange revelation -- the desire for some sort of familiar noise that wasn't necessarily hostile.]

I don't think your dog likes me.

[sleepdarts]

( It's a chance that Ana takes on two fronts -- whether Angela is home, she remembered the younger woman's habits enough from the past to question her free time now, and whether she would want this particular visitor. They had had a pleasant conversation on Ana's message but she knew now after talking to Jack that things were complicated. Not knowing wasn't an excuse, not when Ana still agreed with what Jack had done, and she's ready to take her own consequences.

She gives a gentle knock on the door, adjusting the package that's in her hand slightly. One thing that being here before had given her was a few items -- other clothes, tea and, what had been a pleasant surprise, some coffee to take to Angela's. It was by no means fantastic, though Ana's idea of good coffee would probably hurt Angela's sensibilities, but it was an offering. The package also held a small parcel of tea, because of course Ana is bold enough to make the assumption that she's coming again. She may not know Angela's feelings on Jack's truth but she doesn't plan for them to stay negative )

APRIL

[cadeuces]

MAY

[cadeuces]

[alterplex]

[ It happens again, this morning: Venom's mental track list skips a few songs on its way from Track 1 to Track 5, stutters midway through Track 6, and gets stuck in the crossfade. What he knows is that he left his home sometime between now and sunrise, that he must have smoked in the interim— his mouth still tastes acrid, a byproduct of the genuine article instead of the electronic substitute— and that he can't remember a fucking thing about how he managed to end up here, back pressed against a cool wall in a dim backstreet alley.

He takes a second to retch his discomfort into a nearby dumpster. All that comes out is stomach acid, which makes him smile grimly to himself. Good, it's not that he doesn't remember eating— he just hasn't.

The fact of the matter is that dissociation isn't rare or novel to Venom anymore; it just is, the way some people are daydreamers or compulsive nail-biters. Sometimes he takes a left turn and finds himself eye-to-eye with people he knows better than to believe are still alive, but that's the reality of it: some parts of him are irreparably off-kilter, and it's better to know those faults than to ignore them.

Still, this whole fiasco with the asteroid hasn't helped. Exhibit A: having to wipe his grimy lips on the back of his sleeve, to spit bile out of the corner of his mouth. Having to list the NATO phonetic alphabet to make sure he keeps himself here, in the moment. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta.

(It's a little pathetic, he knows it.)

After three sets of 26, his hands are still shaking. The nausea hasn't abated despite the emptiness that's made a home in the back of his skull.

Clearly, he only has one option left to him.

He calls a friend. ]

—Angela.

[ Is what he says when she picks up. Baritone run over hot coals. ] You at home right now?

JUNE

[cadeuces]

JULY

[cadeuces]

AUGUST

[cadeuces]