wonderful life — open.

[EDMUND.]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: andale mono; font-size: 6.5pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 14px; color: #484a4d"]❝ A’right then, there you go ‘n’ pour the mixture in right there. ❞ Sleeves to his flannel shirt rolled up to the elbows, Eddie rested both hands on the edge of the kitchen counter as he watched Ida messily dolloping a ladle full of a beige mixture into each concave section of a muffin tin. Whilst Eddie couldn’t say he was much of a baker — the last time he’d ever involved himself in such a thing was when he was only young and his mother was baking another loaf of her esteemed banana bread. One thing that he did know how to do, however, was follow instructions word for word.

And so he did just that, allowing Ida to do all the jobs such as pouring the flour in and mixing all the wetting ingredients whilst Eddie would precisely measure each ingredient with narrowed eyes and a concentrated gaze. This had been entirely Ida’s idea — Eddie would point out — as it had been her plan to bake muffins for when William and Frederick were due to return to the Lodge after heading downhill to take care of some business that would otherwise interfere with Eddie’s plans to start manufacturing the Stirling’s prized whiskey again.

❝ Oops. ❞ Ida squeaked as she knocked the bowl, Eddie catching it just before it could slide right off of the counter and onto the floor. Nudging it back into a place safe from the elbows of clumsy youngsters, Eddie murmured softly, ❝ Don’t worry, you’re doing just fine. ❞ There was a softness in his voice, often unheard of when surrounded by most. But, it was needless to say that he always had a soft spot for Henry and Ida, as well as his two children too. 

[SAINT BERNARD]

[align=center][align=center]

a

THE TIRED SOLDIER

[b][i]bernard smith. it had been years since bernard had last been able to be in the kitchen. jillian's passing had hit him so hard, it was difficult to make anything for himself. it was always frozen dinners or take out when she was gone. the strike of the power outage had also hit bernard harder. his leftovers that gathered in his fridge spoiled, the food in the freezer were rotten. he struggled to eat. the wound of jillian's passing was still fresh, and he would stand at the kitchen doorway, willing himself to start new, but he couldn't.

however bernard was passing by when he heard the small oops, and the army vet stuck his head in the doorway. he noticed ida and edmund, and his brows raised just slightly. what were they making? he gave a small wave from the doorway, but did not advance. he was sure that if eddie did not want him there, he would make him know.

jillian's soft smile would always greet him whenever bernard would linger in the doorway, and she would always pull him in with that smile, and she'd speak to him in such a low voice and bernard's heart ached. he tensed his fists but refused to show how much he missed her. he was an army man. he was stonefaced. grief should not be this hard.

"speech."

[spoiler=//tags — updated ;; 09/01/21]
general
> bernard smith ;; saint bernard, bernie
> male;; he/him
> 47yrs ;; ages real time ;; december 15th
> flintlock lodge

physical
> physical health ;; 75%
> minor injuries ;; frostbite on fingers, a few bruises
> major injuries ;; n/a
> [i]important things to note ;; n/a

appearance
> thick and short grey hair ; dark blue/green eyes ; average, def a dad bod, rounder stomach ; 5'9" ; 240 lbs
> no body modifications
> a white shirt with suspenders ; black pants ; usually wears a heck ton of jackets if he's cold
> pocket change ; cigarettes ; a photo of his wife and son
> important things to note ;; scar on left side under ribs ; missing a toe or two

personality
> very honest ; stubborn ; sympathetic ; comes across as airy or non-present ; in his head often ; quick-witted ; think first, act after
> PTSD
> no tics

relationships
> oliver smith x dianne smith ;; dianne - deceased ; oliver - deceased
    > henry passed from cancer
    > dianne passed from natural causes
> no siblings
> heterosexual
> no known crushes
      > widow, wife was jillian williams - deceased ; passed from a raid in home
          > son was warrin - deceased ; passed from a raid in home

interaction/confrontation
> medium mentally | medium physically
> non-violent power play allowed
> will not attack/kill/maim/capture without asking the author
> do not kill/maim/capture without asking me (timothy)
> if you want to attack, use this colour (red) and underline it

misc importance
> "this is him talking." ;; his speech is bolded
> this is him thinking ;; thoughts are in italics
[/spoiler]

[EDMUND.]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: andale mono; font-size: 6.5pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 14px; color: #484a4d"]Ida had been the first to take notice of Bernard as he peeked his head into the kitchen, Eddie not taking notice as he had his back turned away so that he could find something to place beneath the bowl to stop it from sliding around. ❝ Mister Bernard! ❞ She lifted a hand to wave back before eagerly pointing out, ❝ We’re making muffins! Eddie said that if they taste good he will make some with me every week! ❞ Eddie looked over his shoulder towards Bernard, huffing a small  breath through his nostrils before returning with a damp dishcloth to place beneath the mixing bowl.

❝ All right, Ida, I- ❞ Eddie was speechless, realising that perhaps Ida had just exposed his soft spot to the world: his family. Ida was blissfully unaware, smiling as she mixed the mixture before looking at Bernard again.  ❝ You can help put the mixture into the muffin tins. ❞ It was less a suggestion and more a command, earning a stern look from Edmund as he mumbled, ❝ Say please. ❞ ❝ Please! ❞ Ida held up the mixing spoon, then adding with certainty, ❝ And I can lick the spoon clean. ❞

[SAINT BERNARD]

[align=center][align=center]

a

THE TIRED SOLDIER

[b][i]bernard smith. bernard's eyes widened when ida noticed him, and he hesitated before letting himself fully stand in the doorway. he gave the young girl a shy wave, looking at eddie with a "whoops" expression. bernard stepped in quietly, his large boots were silent on the tiled floor, making it seem like he wasn't even walking. just floating, like a ghost. he wished he was a ghost. bernard's hands came to the counter and he leaned on it, peering into the bowl that ida was currently mixing.

"i would love to help." bernard's stone face had cracked, a small smile poking at the corners of his mouth. "i used to do this with my wife often, and my son." he said this moreso towards eddie, seeing the look he had on his face. he understood.

bernard used to be a solider. every waking moment felt like he had to be cold and secluded. he couldn't be weak. he understood. bernard often let that get ahead of him, and he knew he seemed so closed off all the time. he took the spook from ida, being careful where to grab, and he helped pour the mix into the tins. he looked up at eddie once in a while, a quick flicker of attention between focusing on the job, and watching eddie out of the corner of his eye. bernard also understood not to cross any lines. he would rather be safe than sorry.

bernard's hands were very steady. he remembered hearing about jillian's death. she had succumbed to an illness that none of their doctors caught in time. he remembered his hands, steady, holding on to the steering wheel on the way home. no tears had spilled. he was stone. bernard was always so stiff. he remembered carefully pulling his keys from his pocket, pulling out the house key, unlocking the door, and putting the key in the dish. from there, the rest was a blur. jillian's death hit so damn hard, especially after losing their son. bernard remembered he screamed so loud, standing in the middle of the living room, just screaming.

bernard had not ever thought about that since. he refused.

"speech."

[spoiler=//tags — updated ;; 09/01/21]
general
> bernard smith ;; saint bernard, bernie
> male;; he/him
> 47yrs ;; ages real time ;; december 15th
> flintlock lodge

physical
> physical health ;; 75%
> minor injuries ;; frostbite on fingers, a few bruises
> major injuries ;; n/a
> [i]important things to note ;; n/a

appearance
> thick and short grey hair ; dark blue/green eyes ; average, def a dad bod, rounder stomach ; 5'9" ; 240 lbs
> no body modifications
> a white shirt with suspenders ; black pants ; usually wears a heck ton of jackets if he's cold
> pocket change ; cigarettes ; a photo of his wife and son
> important things to note ;; scar on left side under ribs ; missing a toe or two

personality
> very honest ; stubborn ; sympathetic ; comes across as airy or non-present ; in his head often ; quick-witted ; think first, act after
> PTSD
> no tics

relationships
> oliver smith x dianne smith ;; dianne - deceased ; oliver - deceased
    > henry passed from cancer
    > dianne passed from natural causes
> no siblings
> heterosexual
> no known crushes
      > widow, wife was jillian williams - deceased ; passed from a raid in home
          > son was warrin - deceased ; passed from a raid in home

interaction/confrontation
> medium mentally | medium physically
> non-violent power play allowed
> will not attack/kill/maim/capture without asking the author
> do not kill/maim/capture without asking me (timothy)
> if you want to attack, use this colour (red) and underline it

misc importance
> "this is him talking." ;; his speech is bolded
> this is him thinking ;; thoughts are in italics
[/spoiler]

[EDMUND.]

[align=center][div style="width: 470px; text-align: justify; font-family: andale mono; font-size: 7pt; letter-spacing: 2.5px; word-spacing: 1px; line-height: 14px;"]Edmund’s gaze lingered for a second. Perhaps sometimes he took for granted the things he adored in his life — he was often so skilled at predicting peoples’ next moves that he seldom lived in the moment, appreciating all the little things that actually mattered. Unlike Bernard, Edmund was still graced with a family that he so loved and a fortunate lifestyle that he had been bred into. But, despite all of this, Edmund was trapped in his head, deep in thought and rather obsessed with the very worst that life had to offer. The loss of his brothers and the weight of his mistakes heavy on his shoulders, there was much that Edmund let cloud his mind.

Edmund’s eyes were contemplative as he peered across at Bernard. The way he spoke about his family was one of sheer nostalgia. A fleeting memory that had since passed. Lips tightened into a straight line, Edmund giving Bernard a sympathetic nod before glancing over towards the mixture Ida was concocting. Henry and Ida were both orphans, technically speaking, and had not received any sort of paternal affection for the entirety of their lives. Alfred was cold and aloof as a father, certainly not the kind of man to enjoy baking treats with his children. If Edmund were to be honest, people around the lodge treated the two children more like their offspring than Alfred ever did, Bernard included. The way he so carefully assisted Ida, it was as if Bernard had his child back and Ida had finally felt the love that a warm-hearted father could bring.

But moments like these were fleeting; Bernard’s son would never come back, and Eddie and Ida’s father could never rise from the grave to seek redemption.

Once the mixture had been poured into the tins, Edmund slid them into the wood-fired oven, brushing his hands together to signify a job well done. Ida had since taken it upon herself to collect the spoon from the mixing bowl nearby, licking at the batter merrily. A gentle sigh, then Edmund shifted his gaze to look over towards Bernard. ❝ Thank you. She appreciates it. ❞ He pointed out in a hushed murmur. ❝ She will never say it, but I know she does. ❞ Edmund cleared his throat, gaze darting away as he watched the fire roar inside the oven. ❝ Our father… He was not a man who wanted to be a dad. Just a father. So Ida hasn’t ever really had the opportunity to do things like these. It’s different with me — I can try and raise her the best I can but, at the end of the day, I’m still her brother so she’ll never know what it’s like to have a father figure that cares. ❞ Edmund glanced over towards Ida, forlorn features lingering as his half-sister was far too preoccupied to listen in on the conversation.

Perhaps this was exactly what Ida needed. Bernard, too. This was something that the both of them needed.

[SAINT BERNARD]

[align=center][align=center]

a

THE TIRED SOLDIER

[b][i]bernard smith. edmund lingering still made the war vet nervous. his gaze kept flickering up to look at him before looking down to make sure that the mixture was going into the pan. he smiled, seeming to forget that edmund was there for a time being. he was soft, much more soft than he would have liked, especially with someone in charge just being around, but he was too focused on helping guide ida. when all the mixture was poured, and edmund took the tray, bernard swiped his finger along the side of the bowl to take a bit of the mixture, smiling to the younger of the three.

he glanced over at edmund and immediately that smile faded for a moment, quickly putting his finger in his mouth like he just got caught doing something bad. he wiped said hand off on his shirt and watched ida, that smile returning. his son would have loved to bake, he thought to himself. he dreamed of returning home, to open the door and smell the pie being baked in the oven, to hear his wife humming to herself like she always did. she always seemed to do something with a rhythm, and he wished he could reach through time and pull her and his son out. he wished he could have them in his arms again. it made his chest hurt. his heart ached for that life again.

he got so caught up in thinking, being sucked up by his own thoughts, before edmund spoke to him. it made him startle, but not enough to be noticed. he just snapped his attention towards the other man before sighing and adjusting his shirt sleeve. bernard glanced towards ida as edmund spoke about her, watching as she contently lapped at the spoon. it made the old man's heart hurt, tears threatening to spill as he chose to look away. he chose to look away a lot. walking down the streets of the towns he destroyed, the way people begged for mercy. he just turned his cheek and continued. he bit his tongue.

he listened as edmund spoke about their father, nodding his head every now and again, focusing instead on the oven to try to watch the muffins. he himself could not remember much of his father, aside from the fact that he was some religious nutjob who thought everything around them was a sin. it made bernard tired. not as tired as he always was now, of course, with his slouched back and his baggy eyes. he looked years older than he was, because he had seen too much. he had so many deaths on his hands, and it shook him to his core.

he sniffled. [i]she'll never have a father figure who cares. what was he, but a father with no son? a monster? a criminal, born of hatred? he scratched at his arm and turned his gaze back to ida, a small smile cracking once more.

"i am sorry to hear that." his voice felt so rough. "i could not dream of doing that to my son." if he were still alive, he thought to himself.

at least, he thought selfishly, his son did not have to grow up without missing either or both parents.

"speech."

[spoiler=//tags — updated ;; 09/01/21]
general
> bernard smith ;; saint bernard, bernie
> male;; he/him
> 47yrs ;; ages real time ;; december 15th
> flintlock lodge

physical
> physical health ;; 75%
> minor injuries ;; frostbite on fingers, a few bruises
> major injuries ;; n/a
> important things to note ;; n/a

appearance
> thick and short grey hair ; dark blue/green eyes ; average, def a dad bod, rounder stomach ; 5'9" ; 240 lbs
> no body modifications
> a white shirt with suspenders ; black pants ; usually wears a heck ton of jackets if he's cold
> pocket change ; cigarettes ; a photo of his wife and son
> important things to note ;; scar on left side under ribs ; missing a toe or two

personality
> very honest ; stubborn ; sympathetic ; comes across as airy or non-present ; in his head often ; quick-witted ; think first, act after
> PTSD
> no tics

relationships
> oliver smith x dianne smith ;; dianne - deceased ; oliver - deceased
    > henry passed from cancer
    > dianne passed from natural causes
> no siblings
> heterosexual
> no known crushes
      > widow, wife was jillian williams - deceased ; passed from a raid in home
          > son was warrin - deceased ; passed from a raid in home

interaction/confrontation
> medium mentally | medium physically
> non-violent power play allowed
> will not attack/kill/maim/capture without asking the author
> do not kill/maim/capture without asking me (timothy)
> if you want to attack, use this colour (red) and underline it

misc importance
> "this is him talking." ;; his speech is bolded
> this is him thinking ;; thoughts are in italics
[/spoiler]