Logs:Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.
| Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2020-10-28 "-- wasn't expecting you." |
| Location
<GA> Across the Rift - Holland Farm - Hiawassee | |
One of many such family farms -- though fewer all the time -- in this little Appalachian town, the Hollands' 160-some rolling acres are divided about evenly between peach orchards and yearly rotations of crops. A burbling creek winds along one edge of the property, which extends up past the arable portions into steep, wooded mountainside. There are several acres of vegetable gardens nearest to the farmhouse, producing enough food to feed the family and often with excess to sell locally. The barn and pasture adjoining this are likewise mainly for the family's own use, with just a couple of dairy cows, a pair of horses, and plenty of chickens. The farmhouse itself is a big rambling white affair with a generous wraparound porch, full of rustic charm even in its no-nonsense practicality. The furniture is sturdy and plain and well-cared for, the walls adorned with handmade crafts, children's artwork, and some of Jackson Holland's more whimsical original paintings. The kitchen is vast and airy and superbly organized, always redolent of rich home cooking and of the herbs hanging in bundles to dry. In addition to the main house there are two smaller outbuildings, used in the past to house farm hands during the harvest, though these days they mainly host the steady stream of mutant refugees passing through the farm on their way to an uncertain hope of safety beyond the borders. The hillsides are ablaze with autumn colors in Hiawassee, and there's a hint of chill in the air even before the sun has set. Still, the brilliant sky fading to match the foliage is a special magic all its own, as each breeze that wends through the hills and hollows brings down a shower of bright yellow leaves from the dark brown boughs of the orchard. Polaris has just put the pot pies for supper into the oven and stepped out onto the porch to admire the glory in the sky and on the earth alike. She's dressed in a green corset over a white long-sleeve blouse of soft cotton with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows to reveal the intricate woven wire cuffs on each wrist, a voluminous black skirt--the folds move with an odd weight, as if something else were attached underneath--that falls to mid-shin, though she's hiked and tied up the front to just below her knees, and heavy black steel-shanked work boots that seem just a touch at odds with the rest of her somewhat anachronistic outfit. DJ is just returning from one of the outbuildings, a leather medical bag slung over one shoulder. Less colorful than Polaris, he's in jeans, a soft black and white flannel, hair grown out a little bit longer than he often likes but his beard trimmed close and neat. The autumn trees are perhaps the source of his leisure -- he's actually walking the distance between the houses, eyes turned up toward the canopy. This speeds, though, shortly after Polaris steps out onto the porch -- a glance at her and in a blink he is there beside her, setting his supply bag down gently before slipping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple. Polaris's wide hazel eyes fix intently on DJ the moment he's in sight, but she does seems content to wait for him to come to her. She sighs softly as his arm curls around her, a smile curving her lips. "Everyone doing alright out there?" She nods in the direction of the outbuildings from whence her husband has just come, then rests her forehead against his chest. "If there's no pressing need for either of us right now, it'll still be a while yet 'til supper's ready..." She lifts up onto her tip toes, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper in his ear. "...we could play a board game." A faint flush creeps up into DJ's cheeks, a slow smile spreading on his face as he squeezes Polaris just a little bit closer. "You always know just how to tempt me." His head tips, cheek pressing lightly to the top of her head as his eyes drift back out toward the trees. The very faint tightening of his jaw can be felt, then, rather than seen. "Kid's got a real bad fever, I don't want to send them on till it's broken. Really hoping it's not the flu. -- need to get my hands on some vaccine shots this season anyway." He pulls back, smile a little crooked as he looks to Polaris, picking his bag back up and moving to hold the door open for her. "-- Which isn't going to happen in the next hour, anyway." Polaris hums softly, lays a soothing hand against his side. "I got stock and chicken enough for plenty more soup, if it's needed." The hand slides around to his back. Stops before it slides yet lower, her restraint evident in the brief tension that vibrates through her frame. "If Doc Wendell can't hook you up in town, we'll hassle the Tessiers about it." She pulls away from him reluctantly and sweeps through the door with a playful half-skip. A wave of warm savory fragrance wells out from the kitchen to buffet them. "Spence is due to check in soon anyway, right?" It certainly is a teleporter who lands just then on the porch, but not Spence. There is a soft thud as two pairs of feet land on the wooden boards, then a rattling as the door opens. "Everyone decent?" Lily yells ahead, before taking half a step over the threshold. She looks haggard, the wrinkles in her thick red and black flannel shirt going nicely with the lines under her eyes. Her boots are scuffed to hell, but still without holes, and her jeans only have slightly more dirt on them now than when she left. "We got company." She leans up against the door, twisting an earring as she holds it open. The person who slips through the door in Lily's wake is decidedly also Not Spence. Vector is blandly dressed; black denim jacket, heavily scuffed and fraying, blue jeans, a grey tee shirt. Despite his current pallor and the guarded way he holds an arm against his chest, his expression seems calm enough as his eyes sweep the kitchen. His head dips in thanks to Lily, gaze shifting to DJ. "Can you set a bone?" A little too strained to be casual. "Hope so. He had a lot of deliveries. Oh!" DJ's expression warms when his sister arrives. "Did you run into --" He cuts himself off abruptly. There's nothing casual about his reaction as the other man enters, either; snapping to quick attention, smile dropping from his face and his abruptly-wider eyes rapidly shifting to the ceiling. One beat of delay draws into another and then another before, "-- wasn't expecting you. I -- can't X-ray anything here. Not -- right this minute, but if you," very reluctantly, "can wait until later tonight, we can go to town." Polaris's posture straightens, her expression brightening before she's even turned fully to see their new arrival(s). "Lily!" she pipes, rushing to embrace her sister-in-law. Her eyes go wider when she spots their guest, but she still throws her arms around Lily. When she steps back from the embrace she draws the other woman somewhat reflexively with her, further into the kitchen. "Um. There's chicken pot pie for supper. And vegetable pot pie. Think the crust. Turned out okay." Her eyes are very wide when she finally addresses Vector. "Can I get you something, meantime? For the pain?" Lily gives DJ a smile, but there is a little bit of panic behind her tired eyes. Polaris gets a warm hug back, but its not nearly as energetic. "Smells amazing. You're amazing." She holds on a bit longer, then reluctantly pulls away to slump into a lovingly crafted chair. "Anybody need another jump?" Lily asks, her tone light and jokey despite the tension evident in her face. "I'm about to drop this one." "Thank you." Vector's voice is soft, carefully polite. A small tight smile works its way onto his face at Polaris's offer, and he moves to settle stiffly in a seat at the kitchen table. "Please." A very brief pause. "Do you have much room, currently? I ran into a family --" His fingers start to flex, but the motion does not get far before his jaw tightens and he relaxes them again, returning to just holding his arm still against his stomach. "-- and left them safe for now, but I don't imagine it will be long before they send more police to that block." "How much time do you think they have?" Dawson's brow creases deeper as he looks from Vector to his sister; he can't much disguise his anxious tone with the follow up, "You really look like you need to rest." He moves his bag to the kitchen table, opening it up and dragging a chair closer to Vector, his shoulders tense as he sits. "Let me splint this, until tonight. Shouldn't be moving it." At Vector's question he glances up to Polaris and Lily, hesitating before offering, "-- We could take a few more. Be less of a squeeze if -- we were supposed to move three of our people today, but they have a little one who's very sick." Polaris lingers for a moment, as if reluctant to leave her family alone in the room with Vector. But the hesitation passes quickly and she ducks out into the half-bath in the hallway, returning a moment later with a handful of ibuprofen. She fills a glass with water at the tap; brings it, and the medicine, to their guest. "Would appreciate if you could take a look at the kid," she allows. "But either way we can probably fit them." An infinitesimal pause here, her eyes darting rapidly between her husband and sister-in-law. "Depends on the size of the family, obviously." Elsewhere in the house the scream of a small child dopplers and is echoed by another. Polaris starts. The pots and some of the cooking utensils rattle ominously. Lily sighs, just under her breath. "I'll hold onto Spence, then, if we're making another New York run." She rolls her head around her neck once, twice, fine light brown hair falling from her braid. Polaris' eye catches Lily's. "We can make room. Somewhere." A little bit of doubt crosses her face right before the children cry out - and Lily is gone, presumably to check on the toddlers. Vector's eyes lift, slowly, toward the ceiling at the sound of the crying. For a long moment he fixes his gaze there, steady, a small tension settling into his jaw; his uninjured hand is pressing down, harder, against his knee. The peripheral flicker of motion that is Lily Vanishing pulls his attention back to DJ. Also slow, the injured arm extends. "I'll take a look at the child." The breath DJ pulls in is slow. His eyes dart up toward the ceiling as well and, too, only snap back to Vector once his sister has blipped away. Lets that breath back out after Vector speaks, reaching to take the other man's hand in his; the smile he offers Polaris is small. "We'll make it work. Always do." | |
