ArchivedLogs:Fall

Fall
Dramatis Personae Flicker, Hive
In Absentia	Friday, October 27, 2017 Part of the Future Past TP.
Location <WES> Croton Gorge Park - Westchester
Situated on the east bank of the Hudson, this large park offers events year-round and a plethora of activities for nature lovers. With playgrounds, facilities for camping and swimming, boating and fishing, plentiful trails for hiking, biking, horseback riding, cliffs for rock climbing, grounds for winter sports, and ample ground to just sit and enjoy the weather, these park grounds are a great place to relax year-round. The grounds are well-tended, and with a host of avian and herpitological life, early mornings often find animal lovers scoping out the grounds in search of a glimpse of some rare bird or lizard hiding in the trees or rocks as well. It's not warm, not really. Crisp fall breeze stirring crisp fall leaves to flutter down, a shower of red-gold-brown that crunches, here and there, underfoot. Or brushes up in rustling-dry wisps against rockface and treetrunks and slick-sheened muscles pressed firm against a cliffside. It's not warm, not really, but there's sweat anyway trickling down lean hard back and tightly flexed arms and -- the silver-and-black-and-tan conglomeration of metal and straps and plastic and wiring that is harnessed across Flicker's torso. High high (/high/) up, he nevertheless climbs without /climbing/ harness -- though there /is/ a rope anchor with ropes dangling down nearby, he isn't attached to them in any way. Just the scritch of nails and scrape of rubber-coated carbon-fiber on rock. The limb attached to his harness resembles some sort of tentacle more than it does an arm, though its end at the moment is oddly pickaxe-hooked, the nose of it easing its way, just right now, into a slim crevice in the rock. Up up up. One pull of muscles and then another, teeth gritted and his breath wheezing slightly when his flesh-hand finally curls fingers over the cliff's edge. The tentacle-hook is soon to follow -- though an attempt to pull himself /up/ ends in slipping, hook caught on a grip that maaay have worked for fingers but it loses its purchase. A scraping rattle of debris and his weight comes dislodged, good hand scrabbling for purchase as he tries to keep his footing. Scrabbling-hand meets with a steadier one, strong and calloused and tanned dark. Hive /is/ anchored in, harness locked in to a rope anchor tied to a solid tree nearby. His fingers clamp around Flicker's wrist, his own muscles pulled taut as he steadies the other man long enough to get his footing back. Flicker's teeth flash. Bright-white smile. Black-and-blue climbing shoes find their purchase again, and his hook grips properly down this time, limb curling against the rock as he pulls himself up and over. He flops down, legs dangling over the cliff's edge and his head thunking into Hive's lap. Now that he's /not/ actively moving goosebumps prickle his skin in the breeze, stippling down over his chest and stomach. His hand stays squeezing at Hive's. One breath, two, three, then he drops his fingers to his chest, massaging the muscles around where his harness clamps. Hive drops his hand shortly after Flicker does, fingers kneading into overworked muscles as well. His head tips back, eyes closed as his face tilts up towards the sky. Stray leaves from a tree nearby are dislodged in a sudden breeze, flurrying down to patter against Hive's cheeks. His eyes scrunch tighter, head twitching away reflexively though it just puts a crooked grin on his face. A pair of leaves remain, lodged in the floppy scruff-mop of his hair. Flicker reaches up towards Hive's hair -- though it's more that the /tentacle/ expands, telescoping out to stretch up. Its hook-end folds in as he stretches it, whirring quietly as the end shifts and twists to transform itself from hook-claw into something more pincery. He pinches carefully at the leaves, plucking them out of Hive's hair and releasing them to let them drift down over the cliff, tossing and turning on the same breeze that carried them down. Hive /bats/ at the telescoping limb, head twitching again -- though not to pull /away/ from it. To bonk his head lightly against it, eyes opening again to watch the wind carry the brilliant red-orange leaves away towards the ground far below. He shivers as he watches them fall, but the lopsided smile stays firmly in place. The tentacle bonks right back. Tapnudge. Then pulls in, retracting once more to more or less match his other arm in length. He pushes himself up onto his elbow, head lifting slowly from Hive's lap to turn and watch the gliding-spinning leaves, as well. Hive moves his hands to his harness, once Flicker moves. De-anchoring from the tree, clipping back in to the double ropes dangling down over the cliff. He stretches, a lanky-lean flex of ropey muscle that precedes him rolling halfway to his feet. "C'mon." With that he's already jumping himself backwards off over the edge of the cliff -- but not before thwapping a coil of stray rope over to /tug/ Flicker towards the cliff-edge with him. Toppling him to tumble with the leaves. "Race you down."