FOR FOREVER | o, finishing fence

[PETER M.]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;font-family:arial;font-size:8pt;line-height:1;text-align:justify;font-family:verdana"]He’s been sick for the past week, under somewhat strict orders to stay in bed (although he’d felt so sick that he hadn’t even wanted to leave his bed) and unable to do much around the Lodge. He’s felt like shit for the past week, whining to Benjamin, refusing half the food his boyfriend offered him and unable to keep down the other half. Now, after a week of being ill and a few meals in which he scarfed down as much food as he could manage, he’s back up and running for the most part. And his first priority is the fence.

He drops the hammer into the snow, the last nail hammered in to hold the fence together. It’s not the most sturdy, but it will definitely hold up against the harsh wind and thick snow that sweeps the territory daily. It won’t provide all that much protection against potential attackers, but it will add another layer of difficulty to getting to the ski lodge. He isn’t sure what other uses the fence can have—all he knows is that Win gave him the task of building the fence a couple months ago, and he hasn’t had the time or the motivation to finish it before. And now, at long last, he’s finished.

"Finally," he groans, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm. The migraine that he’s had for the past week is beginning to show itself once again as an annoying headache that pounds at his temples like a jackhammer. Grunting, he rubs at his temple, fingers digging in as if he can claw the pulsing pain from his head. At least I’m done, he thinks, before dropping into a sitting position to slump against the fence he’s just erected.

[ this is baD but oh well ]

[merged stuff]

track

[impiety]

[div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Greer had been worried about -- well, everyone. Johannes was sick, Peter was sick, Benjamin was sick, Gilbert only just now returned as a very different child, and the Lodge was decreasing in members seemingly everyday. But either way, she had been doing her best to help where she could. She slowly moved towards the sound of hammering, and it took her awhile until she saw Peter, and a brand new fence. Her brows raised with delight upon seeing her friend, and she quickly moved closer. "Yer looking much better. It's good ta see ya up and running." She would speak up, walking closer and glancing at the fence. "Did ye make it?" She asked, eyes staring curiously.
[align=center]"Greer"            "Gilbert"

TAGS

[merged stuff]

[align=center][div style="width:400px;line-height:0.9;text-align:justify;font-size:9pt;"]emmor knew the feeling of headaches that wouldn't go away, the feeling of pressing his fingers to his tempkes and desperately rubbing circles into one's temples. he had seen it in a lot of the adults in gstaad, and he had even experienced it once or twice. without hesitation, he crouched in front of peter and tilted his head, mask showing the male his reflection. "does your head hurt?"
[spoiler=TAGS | 3/03/18]GENERAL INFO —
→ Emmor | " Em / mor / morie " | masked guy
→ cisgender | male | he / him | it's very difficult to tell his gender
→ physically 22 y/o | mentally 20-25 y/o | may 25 | gemini
→ member of flintlock | joined mm-dd-yy
APPEARANCE —
→ 6'0 | 120 - 135 | feminine build
→ heterochromia, left eye is a very bright amber, right eye is a very intense greyish blue. his right eye is effected by coloboma, a birth defect that makes the pupil look like a key hole | diamond face shape, high and protruding cheek bones, pointed pixie like nose, small ears
→ curly white hair, often peaks out of his hood. bushy black eyebrows | very pale skin, almost considered albino
→ dylan forkest | ref
→ dresses so no skin is showing, always has good on over his cap | outfit
→ no scars | has a tattoo on the nape of his neck that says 'I want to live not just survive'
→ doesn't brush his hair, does bathe but only when he knows no one will see him.
→ voiceclaim: cole sprouse | example
→ terrible posture, always slouching | often makes motions with his hands to combat emotions or words, when he talks, his hands always move | has ok manners
PERSONALITY —
→ ISTJ | choleric | gryffindor | alignment
→ realist | ambivert
→ no psychological disorders
→ fears being hurt by someone he trusts / betrayal | his entire being is a secret | has few regrets
→ sometimes swears | has an extensive vocabulary | "no, i will not remove my mask."
RELATIONSHIPS —
→ unknown mother xx unknown father | unknown siblings | unknown father
→ single  | taken by __ | interested in relationships
→ homosexual | demiromantic
→ open to one night stands with men only | pm for romance / family plots
BATTLE TAGS —
→ peaceful actions can be powerplayed | reacts ok to physical contact of it's required. uncomfortable with unnecessary contact.
→ physically difficult (depending on the opponent) | mentally hard
→ uses a automatic rifle (one clip) | ok with hand to hand combat
→ attack in #B9AC8C | @ salem for quick reply
OTHER —
→ "speech"[/spoiler]

[BENJAMIN]

[align=center][div style="border:0px;width:450px;text-align:justify;line-height:1.1;font-size:8.5pt;"]The fence actually getting done isn't really that worrisome of a problem, to Benjamin. What's worried him is Peter's damned health, because he's his boyfriend, and honestly he's just worried about him dying or some stupid shit, not the task he's been assigned that had taken an ungodly amount of time to finish. It's not really his fault that it had taken so long—it had been quite the big task, honestly, and with sickness, the leading, Jasyn... Well, all that had just made it longer. It's done now, though, as Peter groans from his place slumped against his finished masterpiece. Benjamin doesn't exactly get the memo, though. He's actually not even aware of Peter's existence out here. He's just walking along, minding his own business, cane tucked under his arm as he fiddles with the string, which he's somehow knotted by some strange circumstance. It's really annoying not to be able to hang the damned thing on his belt when he's not using it, so he's working at it, trying to get it untangled as he grumbles to himself quietly. He's traveled this path many times—it's the one to a little ways out into the forest, so he knows he's not going to bump into anything while he goes and gathers some firewood. That is why he's not paying attention. However, there's something he's failed to realize—Peter's done with the fence, and it not looms in his path like some evil blockade—an evil blockade that Benjamin quickly slams his foot into. "FUCK—" comes a very... Graceful shout from Benjamin's mouth, and then he crumples over the top of the fence, defeated. His toe hurts. He must have stubbed it. Angrily, he pats the object in front of him—what the fuck is this? Where did this come from? It's some kind of fence, he realizes, and then he remembers. Peter. Well. "...What a nice, great, amazing fence," he comments to the air, because someone probably heard him yell fuck at the top of his lungs. "Peter is so talented. It's so sturdy. Can withstand a kick, too, because I definitely meant to do that. Haha. Yeah."