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He was cold. It was his fault and he knew it, because there had been a coat at the last dilapidated grave of a shack he'd found, but it had been crawling with ants and warm or not, he had no plans on washing a wooly coat until every last insect was drowned, he just didn't have time or, frankly, faith that he wouldn't wake up with ants crawling down his throat. It wouldn't be the first time, unless you didn't count hallucinations, and he really didn't want to know if it really was as bad as it seemed, excellent source of protein or not.
You need to focus.
He was trying; but clutching an old knit shawl around his shoulders, his ears bright red in the cold air that meant you were far enough from sea level spring didn't really mean spring, it was hard to keep his mind on task, especially when he wanted to do all he could to get his mind off the cold. At least he'd found a path lacking in snow, though to make up for it his oversized boots were covered in mud. He knew there was something here; back when Northstar had been down the mountain, before they'd left and he'd stayed, desperate for a shelter and full of fears about where they'd end up.
But survival wasn't easy--not on his own. He didn't know how to achieve it, really. He was skinny, far more than he'd ever been, and when the first sounds of life--the first scent of smoke and the first glimpses of wood and a roof and--the lodge, his numb fingers relaxed on his shawl, his mouth gaping as vapor clouded the air in relief--he was still far enough away, he thought he might die anyway, but at least he'd be buried now--and he knew he needed to can it with the morbidity, but really, sometimes it helped to think of the worst.
[align=center][div style="Width: 495px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px;"][spoiler= information // 4/28]★★★ // ROQUEFORT M. POUSSEY. BORN 6/26/2024.
 genderqueer. flintlock lodge. no rank. oocly created 9/1/15.
 main account || full bio
★★★ // Jack Poussey X Colby Brodeur .
 ½ of nothing. no crush. queer. not actively looking.
 desperately wants a cat, but has no pets.
★★★ // 5'6''. 130lbs. 6/10 HEALTH.
description of appearance here.
 reference links here. include voice-claim. current injures;; none. permanent injures;; bite scar on left shoulder. rasp in his voice and occasional pain swallowing.
★★★ // INFJ. HUFFLEPUFF. INTROVERTED.
description of personality here. tropes;; list tropes here.
★★★ // HAS SMALL SHOULDER BAG, ONE SET OF CLOTHES
 always wears a rosary under his shirt, rarely visible.
 bag holds first aid supplies and photographs--rations if he's found any lately.
★★★ // HAS NO WEAPONS. CAN POWERPLAY PEACEFUL. 0/10 TRAINED.
 will run if attacked or provoked, if caught will beg before fighting.
 has no training in any kind of combat.
 @ROQUE when attacking.
 open to capture and maim, but ask me first. stats;; strength: 2/10. agility: 3/10. endurance: 3/10. accuracy: 2/10. luck: 3/10.[/spoiler]
Jo really didn't agree with Roque's idea that thinking of the worst was ever a good thing. In her experience, it tended to do the exact opposite of any good. Thinking about the worst always made her stomach churn and her heart beat a little faster. She didn't want the panic of knowing that screwing this up could be monumentally bad. So instead, Jo tended to think about the best things. Like the fact that her parents would still love her, no matter how badly she screwed up, and that Ellie probably wouldn't hate her if something went a little sideways. If nothing else, she always had the dogs to comfort her. That got considerably more difficult when it came to life-or-death matters, since there's usually not much of an upside to death. Then again, it's not like she's ever been in many of those. Her trek here had been pleasant, actually. Ellie was good company, and her gloves and hat kept her warm. Nothing before that point had ever been deadly either. Good days, bad days, but nothing she'd ever doubted she would survive. But she understands that not everyone is so lucky.
So she sits out in the cold, jacket on and thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders over it. Though she would much rather be almost anywhere else  the greenhouse, her own room, or even just in front of the fireplace  it's better to promise people safety from the cold with a welcoming expression. It's become something of a habit, waiting for people out here, so when the dog she sits with (not Piggles, this one's sewn collar says "Max") lets out a cheerful, howling bark in lieu of a shouted "hello", the director is already rising to her feet and tugging the blanket off of her shoulders. The person is still distant, but from what she can see, they're slight and  and very much not dressed for the weather. And what does she do about it? Well, she folds the blanket and tucks two corners into Max's collar and tells him to go say hello. The dog seems happy to bolt through the snow towards Roque, and Jo follows at an easy jog. She doesn't make it close enough to talk until a moment after Max, but hopefully the stranger got the memo and took the blanket.
"Hi," she says, fully aware of how awkward she sounds. "Sorry about the dog."
[align=center][div style="font-size:16pt;line-height:.9;color:#000;font-family:georgia;padding:4px"]CAN WE SPEAK IN FLOWERS?
[sub]IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO UNDERSTAND[/sub]
[sup]━━━━━━━ [ ❈ ] ━━━━━━━[/sup]
Well, Roque agreed with Roque's idea, and that was all that mattered, thank you kindly. Luckily for him, or perhaps luckily for Josie, Roque could not hear her thoughts, nor she his--and if she could, he hoped she spoke French, or she'd just get a headache. Which, honestly, he was giving himself--
A dog howled, but not with the loneliness of a wolf or coyote far away, on some mountain in some idyllic nighttime serenade--in fact, he could see the dog only moments later, bounding and covered in...something. He didn't look particularly aggressive, but all the same--Roque stumbled back, brown eyes wide and one hand hovering over his bag--if the person jogging along was a bandit, or anyone with mal intent, he was fucked, to put it mildly, and already his other hand had gone up in surrender.
But then she spoke. Dog, still draped in a blanket for some reason, wasn't jumping or barking or growling, so Roque stopped--once there was a good six feet between them. He looked...gaunt; his face was naturally round, heart-shaped and his cheeks were distinctly less full than they were meant to be. By contrast his eyes were large--perhaps only because he was nervous; the way his mouth was small, lips pressed close and gaze darting around, he didn't look like a man comfortable in his environment.
English. Of course; most spoke it here, since they were in the--well, either Canada or the USA, he had no clue. No one else did either, it seemed, or they didn't care. "Bonjour." His voice was raspy; perhaps only due to the cold. It was soft and not very deep, and the ease and delicacy his pronunciation took signaled a native tongue. "He is friendly?" Just to...make sure. English was heavily accented, though he sounded at ease with his words. "Is this the lodge?"
[align=center][div style="Width: 495px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px;"][spoiler= information // 4/28]★★★ // ROQUEFORT M. POUSSEY. BORN 6/26/2024.
 genderqueer. flintlock lodge. no rank. oocly created 9/1/15.
 main account || full bio
★★★ // Jack Poussey X Colby Brodeur .
 ½ of nothing. no crush. queer. not actively looking.
 desperately wants a cat, but has no pets.
★★★ // 5'6''. 130lbs. 6/10 HEALTH.
description of appearance here.
 reference links here. include voice-claim. current injures;; none. permanent injures;; bite scar on left shoulder. rasp in his voice and occasional pain swallowing.
★★★ // INFJ. HUFFLEPUFF. INTROVERTED.
description of personality here. tropes;; list tropes here.
★★★ // HAS SMALL SHOULDER BAG, ONE SET OF CLOTHES
 always wears a rosary under his shirt, rarely visible.
 bag holds first aid supplies and photographs--rations if he's found any lately.
★★★ // HAS NO WEAPONS. CAN POWERPLAY PEACEFUL. 0/10 TRAINED.
 will run if attacked or provoked, if caught will beg before fighting.
 has no training in any kind of combat.
 @ROQUE when attacking.
 open to capture and maim, but ask me first. stats;; strength: 2/10. agility: 3/10. endurance: 3/10. accuracy: 2/10. luck: 3/10.[/spoiler]
[align=center]
[div style="text-align: justify; width:490px;font-size:9.2pt; line-height:1.4"]Ellie wouldn't have minded a coat full of ants- there weren't many in this area that she'd found yet, and truthfully, she missed seeing the mounds of their homes near her own home. They were incredibly interesting creatures, especially those who had a tendency to invade other colonies and steal the larvae to raise for laborers. It was like an insect form of child slavery, which, in human terms was awful, but among insects the behavior was simply added to the list of many other aspects of insects that people would find perturbing in themselves. Anal trophallaxis, for example. Not something she wanted to picture happening among humans, but in termites it simply made sense. She wished she could say the same about the things people did, though she had accepted a long time ago she was more for entomology than sociology or psychology. Honestly, she was sometimes curious why people chose to make a settlement all the way out here. Insects didn't make a habit of forcing themselves into extreme environments. Humans could survive here of course, but it would be less grueling to form a society in a place warmer, with distinct seasons and land not so terribly difficult to traverse; however, that wasn't to say she regretted coming here. Far from it.
It was just a curiosity.
Uncurling her legs where she had them tucked beneath her, Ellie set aside the book she was reading -castes among termites and other behaviors of truly social orders- and stood from the couch. She supposed she could go seek out Jo's company, and last she knew, the other woman was outside. Knowing her, she likely still was, so she slipped on a padded jacket and twisted a scarf around her neck before leaving the warmth of the lodge for the cold outside. Instead of sitting on the porch, she was walking toward another figure, and Ellie quickened her pace to catch up, but she nonetheless only arrived when the stranger presumably answered one of Jo's questions. A warm glance sent to Jo and Max, she then trained her gaze on him, tucking her hands into her pockets. "Don't worry, he wouldn't be out here if he couldn't be trusted with strangers." Her smile was polite and tight-lipped. "Yes, this is Flintlock Lodge. Can we help you with something?"
[div style="width:500px;font-size:12.6pt; line-height:.5; font-family:times; color:white; margin-top:5px"]
TAKE AN ANGEL BY THE WINGS
[size=13pt]BEG HER NOW FOR ANYTHING
Oh. More people. Roque stiffened, withdrawing further as the other young woman approached, his eyes darting between them--and down to the dog. He nodded slowly as she spoke, large eyes somber as he wished he could touch his rosary--but that would mean withdrawing it from his shirt, and he didn't really enjoy doing so around strangers. She looked...professional. Chilled. He hesitated, a hint of defensiveness rising in him as she asked if he needed something--of course he fucking did, he was dying out here.
He did not quite say so. "I--not if--if you are...having...trouble, no, I--only...was looking for a place, to...rest. If--if a possibility, but--I do not wish to be an imposition."
[align=center][div style="Width: 495px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px;"][spoiler= information // 4/28]★★★ // ROQUEFORT M. POUSSEY. BORN 6/26/2024.
 genderqueer. flintlock lodge. no rank. oocly created 9/1/15.
 main account || full bio
★★★ // Jack Poussey X Colby Brodeur .
 ½ of nothing. no crush. queer. not actively looking.
 desperately wants a cat, but has no pets.
★★★ // 5'6''. 130lbs. 6/10 HEALTH.
description of appearance here.
 reference links here. include voice-claim. current injures;; none. permanent injures;; bite scar on left shoulder. rasp in his voice and occasional pain swallowing.
★★★ // INFJ. HUFFLEPUFF. INTROVERTED.
description of personality here. tropes;; list tropes here.
★★★ // HAS SMALL SHOULDER BAG, ONE SET OF CLOTHES
 always wears a rosary under his shirt, rarely visible.
 bag holds first aid supplies and photographs--rations if he's found any lately.
★★★ // HAS NO WEAPONS. CAN POWERPLAY PEACEFUL. 0/10 TRAINED.
 will run if attacked or provoked, if caught will beg before fighting.
 has no training in any kind of combat.
 @ROQUE when attacking.
 open to capture and maim, but ask me first. stats;; strength: 2/10. agility: 3/10. endurance: 3/10. accuracy: 2/10. luck: 3/10.[/spoiler]
