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[Image: FtR0iD0.jpg]
August - 25 - Flintlock lodge member - bio
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early bird gets the worm | open
#1
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[I]clever as the devil
and twice as pretty     
[B][I]if you wanna rumble as you have to do is ask
[b][tw: alcohol, underage drinking]

For once, she was awake before anyone else. At least, it seemed as such but it was possible that they had gone out for something. Ginger locks were pulled into a messy bun on the top her head to go with the lazy first-thing-in-the-morning look of a tank top and flannel pants. She'd be dressed warmer once she actually got dressed, but she didn't feel like doing that right now.

She wandered into the kitchen and pulled down a mug. Most people would have coffee in the morning, but she didn't feel like trying to figure that out, so she went with an alternative. She dug around until she found alcohol and poured some into the mug before putting it back. If anyone asked, she had coffee. 

The nineteen-year-old hopped onto the counter, crossing her ankles and taking a sip of the drink she had poured into the mug. She rested the cup on her lap and wasn't paying much attention to if anyone else had woken up yet or not.
[color=transparent]thes code


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#2
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Daniel’s sleeping schedule was fairly sporadic. He’d integrated into the lifestyle of both early birds and night owls, and those he takes preference to staying up late and sleeping in, there were those days where those days of rarity where he likes to enjoy a sunrise or those less than rare days where he's  jolted by a nightmare. He hadn't had many of them in the past, but since Sarah died, they encompass his very being, and it's so unlike him. He sits on his bed for about fifteen minutes, face cradled in his hands, before finally deciding he'd rather not suffer from whatever internal damage that'd tainted his conscious, plucking his pants and sweater off the ground, putting them both on (because even in the coldest weather he tends to sleep in his boxers).

Since arriving in homely Flintlock Lodge, he'd uncharacteristically tended to keep to himself. He was not the one to brag or anything, but his charisma would have already landed him on both good sides and bad sides, in his eyes both being eminent as it assures him to being the center of attention, but instead he'd rather watch. Enjoy the sentiments that come with being in a group that's not filled with drama-filled lunatics who attempted to be more than they were (ironic). Was he actually?— growing up— God, gross. Even his internal dialogue revolted at the thought. It'd just reminded him of a normal he'd come to know, and he knows holding onto it was holding onto something he just wasn't meant to be. Maybe it could be his day to move from the memories of Sarah that plagued him. Whatever that meant.

Maybe it meant her.

Blake was an potentially a ticking time bomb, painted as an appealing distraction. Every ginger he'd associated himself with ended up crazy, but crazy always ended up being the most mind-consuming. He hadn't seen much of her since he'd arrived, so when he walks into the kitchen to see her perched on the counter he'd take this as the sign he was looking for. He was still induced by his conscious, of course, but he wouldn't let it turn him into a sensually deprived bitch. After all, Sarah didn't seem to mind giving herself to other men. Perhaps it'd give him the opportunity to piss her off in the afterlife, if there was one.

"I bet you I can guess what's in that mug." It started as joke; however when he nears, elbows leaned against the counter, the smell  of alcohol unmistakably radiates from her. He snorts in amusement, reeling back, beginning to inspect the cabinets, not for alcohol, but for tea. He needs a warming stimulant after a night semi-naked. "Rough morning?" He inquires, his hand landing on the tea, rolling it over in his hands. "God, had people makin' this for me all my life and it's depressing to admit I've got no clue.... hot water, hot water and you put the bag in there, right? But judging by what you got in your cup I'm sure you don't know much either." He raises his eyebrows, the hint of a teasing grin pulling the end of his lips.


[align=center][font=arial][I]so, i heard the world doesn't revolve around me /:
Hoot loves your aesthetics
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#3
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clever as the devil
and twice as pretty     
[B][I]if you wanna rumble as you have to do is ask
She looked up when she heard someone walking towards her. She recalled greeting him when he joined but that was about all she had seen of him. How sad. She offered a smile in greeting and took another sip from the mug [b]"I bet you can, it's not too hard" she mused, glancing over at him as he leaned against the counter. A light giggle escaped her lips when what she assumed was him figuring out what was in the mug occurred. [i]"Rough morning?" "I didn't feel like trying to make coffee" she shrugged, she honestly didn't even know if there was coffee at the lodge.

"Oh you're so funny" she teased back, setting her mug down on the counter so she could hop down from her perch. The Australian reached back up to grab another mug and placed it in front of him "Put the tea bag in there" she ordered before backing up and doing a little spin before huffing "Where the hell are the pots around here?" she muttered out loud to herself. "We need to put water in a pot and heat it until it's...sort of boiling? Well, we don't need a pot per say but something to warm water" she figured a pot would be the easiest to find. Apparently she was wrong.

She pulled the elastic out of her hair, causing ginger hair to fall over her back and shoulders, covering up some of the scars visible due to the tank top though the larger one on her right shoulder was still visible as only some was covered. Most people would probably put their hair up in this case, but Blake was just getting annoyed with the weight on her head. The elastic was put onto her wrist in case she wanted to put her hair back up later.

"You basically need pretty hot water, then you pour it into the cup and wait like five minutes so the tea can...steep? Is that the word?" she covered her mouth as she yawned, shrugging as she did so. She didn't know if the word was right, but it was.
[color=transparent]thes code


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#4
[align=center][div style="width: 430px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8pt; color: black; line-height: 22px;"]☁  it was morning.

hayley realized this only when she turned her gaze up from the table in front of her, with various little figurines to represent various things, and glanced out the window. this realization wouldn't have been as startling if she'd been, say, in her bed at some point. but, when hayley had gone up to her bedroom the prior night, instead of laying down beside jackson, who was fast asleep beneath the covers, she'd seated herself at her desk and worked out plans for various things. several times she'd left the desk, only the make a quick trip to the bathroom, or to tend to hope, but she always returned to the desk. and only when she glanced out the window did hayley chase realize that she'd spent her entire night working instead of sleeping, and now that it was morning, it was a little too late to go to bed.

❝fuck it,❞ was her response, pushing herself out from the desk. she'd pulled two-nighter's more than once since her arrival to the lodge, and while she knew going for a walk outside was impractical on such little sleep, she had plenty she could do inside. help with meals, restock the infirmary, go through supplies. she always spent a few days inside a week, and thus far, no one had ever cornered her about needing more sleep. on a good night, she might get five hours rest anyways.

mind made up, she changed out of yesterdays clothes, touched up her hair and makeup from the day before, and headed down to the kitchen for some caffeine. jackson would have to wake up soon, and whoever beat the other up almost always had a cup of something warm ready for the other. slipping silently out of her room and down the hallway, by the time she made it to the kitchen her brows arched in surprise at the sight of daniel and blake already wide awake. she caught the tail end of the conversation, blake drinking not-coffee and daniel clueless as to how to make tea, and she glanced at the two with a look of surprise. after all, neither of them really struck her as early-morning-people.

❝they're not too hard to find if you know where to look.❞ hayley spoke finally, alerting the pair she was there, opening a cabinet to produce a pot. she grabbed one of the many jugs of melted snow and poured it into the pot, walking towards the firepit they often cooked on, flames still clinging to life, and she hung the pot on one of the hooks before placing another few logs on the fire to heat up before breakfast. ❝i will say though blake, i'd recommend wine for breakfast. you can use the whole made-from-fruit thing as justification.❞ she spoke as she worked, before straightening and moving towards the other two, pushing herself to sit on the counter. ❝not that most people here would judge you. i was nineteen once,❞ she said, pausing and smiling just a bit, ❝and eighteen, and seventeen, and sixteen, and... shit, i'd be getting a cup myself if i didn't have a kid. but alas, tea it is.❞ she mused, some part of her missing being young and stupid, but another part of her glad for the growth hope brought into her life.


[b][i]make your girlfriend mad tight, [color=#4A272E]might seduce your dad type
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#5
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AUGUST NEGASI.
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[i]His horse and his cattle
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August and her dear folks, god bless their souls, were simple people. When there was a homestead that needed to be run, a child that had to be raised and animals to take care of to boot, there was no room for any form of intoxication that could waste time that could have been used to keep up with their many tasks. August had never seen any sort of drug in their life before, they did know they existed, however, but their knowledge of such products was incredibly limited. What they knew, they had picked up from novels and stories. Mentions of beer and whiskey for the late night parties while champagne and wine were offered during formal events. many stories mentioned a type of inebriation one way or another, and with reading, they caught the gist that these beverages were drinks that somehow altered the mind, but how that happened and to the extreme it went to was unknown to the hermit.

They were quiet in this new space. After having lived in the same log homestead for their entire nineteen years of their life, unaware of any form of outside community and culture, now that they were shoved into the middle of a society they couldn't help but feel as if they were a fish flopping helplessly out of water, exposed to predators and the elements threatening to dry them up. It was a frightening situation to find yourself in. To have lost everything and to now have to move on to foreign spaces. Adjusting was difficult, this space did not feel like home and these people were strangers. August had no family, no support, no ties.

It was just them.

They were fine on their own, often just popping by the stables and spending the majority of their time with Moose, who seemed to have settled in far better than they had. Farmwork however, was a strenuous task, August knew this more than anyone else. With enough work came plenty of calories burnt, and when that happened, hunger was inevitable. Once the twist in their belly became unbearable, they left their mule within his pasture and walked into the kitchen, massive overalls covered in paint and filth hiding their frame, their deerskin coat slumped over their rather wide, bulky shoulders. The froze the second they saw all these folks already inside the kitchen, appearing rather busy as they gathered in friendly groups. [color=#7989A2][b]"O-Oh, I'm sorry."[b] Said the newcomer with a timid nod of their head, pulling their pelt coat from their muscular shoulders and now clutching it in front of them. [b]"Am I interfering with anything?"[/b]
[color=transparent]claire loves u!
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