Log:Early Morning Woes
| Early Morning Woes | |
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"What're you doing anyway? You the inspector or something? | |
| Participants | 11 March, 2017 Two Ancients meet in the morning, and discover that Jonah shouldn't do home decoration. |
| Location | |
| It's early enough into the morning that the sun hasn't fully risen, and the chill of last night still hangs in the air. Stoneheart is usually empty this early save a few Darklings or wandering hobs, but the only soul to be found is Jonah moving bits of furniture around. The furniture itself looks hastily made, and only good enough to maybe sell to somebody in the backwoods. It's still well below freezing, but the Ogre appears to care little about it in a thin jacket, jeans, and is oddly sans shoes. Currently, he's moving around the practice dummies in the usual practice dummy, grumbling something under his breath that carries a small cloud of warmth with his every movement. Early as it may be, some rise with the sun. Or at least appear to do so. Perhaps they never slept. Iris must not be bothered by the cold... or -- more likely -- the trek from the doorway of her Hollow to the Stoneheart is short enough. She's wearing a dark gray sari-skirt with silver threads picking out various constellations. Whatever blouse she's paired with it is obscured beneath a hooded sweater; knit (or woven) and a rust-red in shade. Warm, but certainly no help in below freezing. At the least, she's wearing boots. The woman pushes the hood of the sweater back as she meanders into the Stoneheart and the breeze that tugs at her hair isn't entirely from without. Especially as it continues even once the door is closed. Either she hasn't noticed Jonah or is purposefully ignoring him, for she makes her way towards one of the pieces of furniture and sort of prods at it. Another dummy's set aside, and it lands with a heavy thud that kicks up dirt and dust. As Jonah turns around he catches sight of Iris, expression turning dour. "Hey! Hey! Don't go poking at that!" he shouts while stomping over in the other Ancient's direction. "What're you doing anyway? You the inspector or something?" The chair -- she assumes it's meant to be -- wobbles a bit, but it doesn't fall to pieces. After all, if it can handle an ogre's manhandling... But Iris just looks to Jonah as he stalks her way, head tilting slightly. The color of her eyes shifts through shades of blue towards indigo. "I don't think I am." There's a bit of a furrow of brow before she shakes her head. "No, I'm not. It just-" she looks back to the chair before leaning down to look at one of the legs. "I hope you don't intend to sit on this. You'd break it." Jonah crosses his arms over his chest, nose turned up at Iris briefly. "I don't plan on sitting. Considering how much sitting down I've had to do and staring at maps last night it'll do me some good." He nods affirmatively as if it'll somehow solidify his point. "Why? You got about thirty chairs you can loan out, hmm?" "The chair might be safe, then. Well, provided one of the other big guys doesn't sit in it." So many of the Freehold's guys are 'big' to Iris. She's not short-short, but she's on the shorter end of female average. he woman does cast a glance up to Jonah at the last, blinking a few times. "Not thirty, no. I think I can manage... ten or fifteen? comfortably. Maybe twenty if people don't mind getting cozy with one another." Jonah still stands there, as stubborn and aggravated as seems usual when interacting with Iris. However, he sobers as she speaks. His shoulders sag, just a bit, as he lifts a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. When he speaks, he sounds defeated if not mellowed out. "Alright, Iris. What would it take to borrow those chairs for the day? So long as it ain't something that'll get the folks of the Freehold killed, I'll do it." "Well." Iris purses her lips slightly, leaning back on her heels as she straightens. "Mostly just..." she looks at Jonah, regarding him. "I was going to say some muscle, but you're that." She brushes at her skirts a bit. "My shop has a meeting room. It's mostly... couches and reading chairs. There's no easy way to move them except one-by-one, but-" She brightens a bit as she adds the last bit. "I can open the doors. There's a portal to my Temple right from the room. So it won't be terribly far to go." Jonah scratches at his forehead briefly while looking at Iris, slowly moving up to the base of his horns. "I can do that. Not like it's that long of a drop from that temple if I jump down either." He mulls that over for a couple of beats, and then nods. "What kinda muscle are we talking? Need someone beaten down? Something heavy moved around?" "I-" Iris blinks a few times as he talks about jumping. She starts to say something, but opts for a period of silence, instead. One to steadily take things in. At the kind of muscle, her expression brightens again. "Just the furniture! I can't move it myself. Sofas tend to be a bit- y'know, heavy." The sweater ripples a bit as she shrugs. "But if you can promise to bring them back later, you're welcome to use them." Jonah shrugs. "As Harvestmen I still do the bit of protecting folks when they have to go about the Hedge too if that was what you were meaning. But I haven't actually done that in months." Another shrug follows along with a tired sigh. "That's the problem with promotions, but that doesn't matter. If stuff is heavy, it's fine. Might be able to see if I can talk a spirit or two into helping, too. Just hope it ain't too pricy, and short notice usually means a pain in the ass later." "Ah." Iris seems to come to a sort of understanding. She takes in a breath, looking thoughtful. "Well... The furniture is from the room I rent out to covens and book clubs. No one's booked it this weekend, so-" Tilt of head to one side, then the other. "We can consider it the same. Free to use, just gotta pay for replacements if anything gets damaged. And... have it returned by the end of the weekend, please?" Jonah smiles, a devilish thing from the horned giant. "You have it my word that I'll bring 'em back. If anything happens it'll come out of my pocket." He then steps forward with his hand extended to Iris. "So, what can I do for you in return? Nothing in this world or the next is ever free, and I don't take to charity. You may be an ancient, too, but there has to be something you need or need done." There's perhaps some surprise at the offer being accepted, but Iris wears it well. She accepts his hand... well, as best she can. Her own being a fair bit smaller. "I keep a garden," she offers, finally. "Sometimes I need things from further in the Hedge. Maybe you or one of yours," the Harvestmen, "can help me obtain them sometime. There's certain fruits I'd like to get." Jonah's hand is course, and feels more like stone. He doesn't apply much of a grip to the handshake, though he can't help it if he jerks her arm when he shakes her hand. "Since this is me asking, I'll do it personally. I pay my own debts, and, truthfully, I can't wholly trust you not to tell them all of what you think or what I really am." It does rattle the woman a bit, but she just sort of smooths over her clothes once she has her arm back. Maybe trying to hide it, though not very well. Iris does look up at him, at not trusting her. She blinks a few times. "I have a right to my opinion. It's a bit ridiculous to think you can keep me from sharing my thoughts with others." She may have missed the point. Jonah looks off to the side. Maybe one of the dummy's is saying something. He eventually responds, "Yes. Right. Opinions." He then looks back to her, hand drawn back for him to return to his usual crossing of arms. "It's not that I don't trust you. Far from it. There are few enough of us around this town much less the world that I'd completely distrust another Ancient. I assume you're ancient, at least." "Ancient implies age," Iris decides after a long moment of reflection. "I just... am." She fusses with one of her bracelets; a thing covered in various charms. It jingles with the fiddling. "Though I suppose age is a thing now." A frown, at this consideration. "I don't know how mortals manage all of this." Jonah idly shrugs, and it almost looks like he's growing comfortable. Almost. "I haven't really aged in, well, forever. Not literally, but I've found myself for what now?" He cranes his neck back a little, eyeing the clouds above. "Thirty-ish years now. Give or take a year or two. I rea-" He looks down again, eyes set upon her arms. "You alright, Skittles?" "I think I age now," Iris says finally, lips pressed into a line. "Part of the curse." When he looks down, she does too. As if just realizing that she's fidgeting. The woman gives a small shake of her head, colors sliding through her hair with the motion. "I'm fine. I just don't... like thinking about it much. I don't enjoy being homesick." Jonah lifts his gaze to look upon hers, consdering Iris as she speaks. "Homesick? Whatcha mean homesick?" He sounds confused, more so than usual. "Aren't all you messenger types super fast? Shi-" He immediately cuts himself off with a clearing of his throat. "Excuse me. Anyway, isn't home where the worship is?" The look that crosses Iris' features could be mistaken for offense, but it's more pained than anything else. She shifts back a step, or two. "Yes. No. I mean..." She shakes her head a bit, swallowing. "It's like... home away from home, but it's not //home//. It's not the same people or places or-" she waves a hand. "Whatever. Shall I show you the way to the furniture?" Jonah's brow quirks at her retreat, but he says nothing of it. "Yeah, sure. You gotta tell me about this home some time, though. If it's got you like that it must've been a Hell of a place." He nods then, thumbing back in the direction of Stoneheart's entrance. "Ready when you are, though." | |
