Notes and an EP

[soldier_blade]

When Sonya enters the Bar, she has with her an army issued duffle bag and a note pad. To stay a few days in this place, much as Bar was nice about giving clothes along with board, she felt more at home with her own clothing and supplies: a trait that came with moving around nearly several times a year.

She asks Bar for the key to her old room, the one she lived in when she was Bound, and a few days for boarding. All signs pointed to the invasion happening soon, and she needed a few days away to better plan. They'd transferred her to another Base, her skills as an officer too promising to risk ghosts being raised: as such, she wasn't sure about those living here. Staying in milliways would be a good chance to get away, without actually getting away.

After having taken her bag to her room, Sonya's sitting at a table by the fire. Though her talk with Cadfael had her consider recruiting a number of people for their aide, closer inspection had her think otherwise. She was special forces after all, they were used to functioning within small numbers: and considering what they had to do, a smaller group would be tighter and easier to hold together. There was also the matter that to work as a team, they needed to be able to know how everyone fought and functioned-and the matter of communication would be easier to get across with a smaller team.

There was a matter of working without Bar's translator spell, but she hoped a certain thunder god could take care of things.

( Raiden )

That done, Sonya folded the note and proceeded to write another one.

( Cassie Cage )

Name signed, Sonya folded both pieces of paper. "Ms. Bar, could you see that these get to the people meant for them?" Both notes disappeared from her hand. She took that as an affirmative.

That done, she ordered herself a cup of tea, pencil once more on the pad, watching the room for a familiar face. So far she had an idea of who could help them, especially after fighting along side Rollo, but she could only recall a few names from the time. If she wanted to talk with them, she'd have to find them herself-with Cassie's help.

OOMs

[tu_vas_triompher]

((Harry wants to know, just casually, not like for any particular reason, what Feuilly thinks would be a good name for a horse. The dorks talk dorkily about honor, war, Milliways security, football, and space travel.

...also I guess we never remembered to post this library adventure from a while ago, which they mention. Sometimes the library makes you work hard to take out movies.))

(no subject)

[freedom_is_grey]

[OOM: I am the only unquiet ghost which does not seek rest

Or: In which letters are written and most of them are sent, some in very convoluted and treacherous ways.]

Exit post

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar Lothbrok is ready to leave.

He approaches the bar with an empty hand cart, and three pieces of paper.

The first is a letter to Athelstan, which he leaves with the bar.

It is ( brief. )

The second is a list, which Ragnar has written out tidily in his still awkward handwriting, and when he puts it on the bar and says something, she starts producing a number burlap sacks and linen bags and jars and casks and even a few boxes, which he loads onto his cart. Numbers are moving rapidly behind his name on the tab board as this happens.

The third piece of paper just contains the Greek words Αγαπώ Αθελσταν as Sinric has written them out for him, to startle Athelstan with when he comes home, and also in order to troll future archaeologists. Ragnar is going to carve those words into a beam and claim they're a good luck charm some wanderer told him.

And that's not completely a lie.


With his cart loaded up as high as things can be stacked, Ragnar wanders over to the door, and leaves for Kattegat. People need those things!



[[OOC: Catch Ragnar by the bar or on his way to the door as he's leaving. I'm gone all of next week for an actual vacation (!!!), so it's time the Vikings change over again.]]

(no subject)

[howtoactfereldan]

Cullen's previous foray might have been accidental, but this one is on purpose -- and he has set up a small experiment, even, to run in his absence.

It is well after nightfall in Kirkwall's Gallows, and Cullen has taken a new beeswax candle -- the kind that tells the hours -- and smeared a thin line of ink just below the top. He will stay gone long enough for the candle to burn down, and if it doesn't... well. If it doesn't, chances are Cullen has an undeserved reprieve from Kirkwall.

Still: night has fallen, evening prayer is over, his latest reply to his sister in South Reach went out today. Cullen would rather keep his mind occupied than not. So: experiments. So: civilian clothing, or what passes for it -- breeches, shirt, surcoat, in varying shades of dull.

So: Cullen, looking uncomfortable, seated by the window looking out to the lake, in a place where he can see most of the room. He is in the company of a small glass of West Hill brandy, untouched; a steaming mug of tea, half full.