and remember that you too will die

Jefferson Soul · 02-22-2011, 03:17 PM

Mandatory -- everyone needs to post just once. Smile

We'll leave the other pack thread going till it runs out of steam, since you only need to post here briefly. Your character needs to just show up, pretty much, and report anything they saw or what they can help out with. I'm going to start out with everyone gathered automatically, so do what you will with that. Smile

Also note that the thread with Jefferson's accident has not yet been started, but it will be postdated to the snowstorm when it is. XD Derp!

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Postdated to the morning after the storm ended.

He had never known such chaos, in all the many months he had spent as an unwilling leader. Not when DaVinci had stirred up trouble with Inferni and Gabriel had come knocking at his door looking for blood; not when Geneva had tumbled and had to be rushed halfway across the continent to AniWaya; not when his children had suddenly reappeared, looking to behead him one way or another. Jefferson knew trouble well — he dwelt in it constantly even against his will, even though the scarred monster had not committed much of a crime since Maluki's demise. He had served as a leader honorably, protecting his pack and family, and other than a few scraps had only attracted trouble, not caused it.

And yet, somehow, he had ended up without an arm.

He existed in a cloud of excruciating pain; red and gold flashed before his eyes constantly, and more than once had he dropped blankly into the snow, overwhelmed and unconscious. They had wrapped it, stopped the blood flow, but the leader had hardly recovered neither physically nor mentally. Yes, he had known a one-armed life beforehand, but it was different then — the arm he used had been his good arm, and enabled him strength the other arm didn't. Now, only the shitty, scarred, awful arm remained. When the pain biting at the remaining stump of a shoulder subsided, whenever that would be, the brute would be cursed to using only the arm he had once declared useless and held in a sling. He had no other choice.

But Jefferson was unrestrained. He had slept the night through much against his will; he worried for his members and would have been out seeking them throughout the evening, but the strain of his lost arm forced unconsciousness upon him.

Dawn's first light — the first sunlight to break through snow-ridden, overcast clouds in days — peeked through his bedroom window and startled the male awake. For a blessed few moments he forgot all that had happened, and then the surging pain returned to him and he crawled pathetically from the mattress. The brute struggled with the bandages, disposing of those with no white still visible through the blood, and then pulled one of his thin, plaid shirts, and stared at the empty sleeve. He dwindled in the open area that was once the living room and kitchen, bathed in mounds of snow and coated in glorious sunlight thanks to the portion of the roof that had flown off and into the barn house. He stared at the debris, the room spinning in the midst of clouding pain, before he stumbled out onto the porch.

He summoned them with a call, as confident and assertive as he typically was, despite his condition. One by one they arrived looking wary and downtrodden, and when enough had gathered, the Patriarch finally spoke.

"There are new faces here," he began, though it was clear he did not desire to dawdle. "If you have not met me, I am Jefferson. I am the one in charge of this mess."

"The devastation is unspeakable," he began, turning his eye to the ranch and barn alike. "The house is still in one piece, but the roof flew off into the barn. Most of the animals are dead, and we almost lost Xeris, too. I watched Eagle Tower fall over, and I saw a few cabins collapse in. There's a lot of trees down. That's about the extent of the damage I know of." He dipped his head. "If you know more, speak up."

He listened through their answers, a stony presence in his scars, a nearly unfeeling expression in his eye. The biting, burning pain in his arm only augmented with the bitter cold of the morning. He winced at times, twitched at others, but otherwise behaved as if nothing at all had happened. "We have to start rebuilding, somehow. I need volunteers." A pause. "We won't fix the collapsed cabins; there are too many of them already. We need to focus on the ranch's roof, and a temporary shelter for the livestock that survived. The barn needs to be rebuilt completely, somehow. If you have any ideas, speak up. I expect all of you to take up some sort of responsibility in all this."

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