Detailed Roleplayers discussion
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Anna ~ Don't let anyone dull your sparkle ~ & Maven's Queen
The blacksmith gave a nod once he echoed what he had told him back in confirmation. "No, that should cover it." he answered. All morning Dasha had been striking out with finding herself a job. With each one it was a story derived from the same vein: already have enough help, can't afford another hand, suggestions of where else to check. So here she was, still checking on a few suggestions that she had been given on what now felt like a pointless goose chase. Despite the recent bout of misfortunes she had been faced with she still wasn't used to things not going her way, and it had sort of thrown her off.
Jarin returned the nod, said his goodbye, and headed off towards the other end of town where the general store would be located across from his destination. The heat was bearing down on him a lot more than he would have expected it to, and he shivered just thinking about it. Today hadn't gone too badly, even though he was sure it would be awhile at this rate before he even started working with metal. He found the leathersmithing shop and ducked inside, allowing the tools to shift together in an attempt to grab the owner's attention as he worked near the back of the shop. After a short conversation, Jarin explained that the blacksmith had fixed them best he could and that he himself was apprenticing to him now. Then he left, heading back along the dusty road towards the small shack where he and Dasha had been staying.
Dasha's options were dwindling. She paused for a minute outside the doors of the small boarding house that the last person she had talked to had suggested to check at. She wiped away a layer of sweat that had formed on her forehead with her sleeve and took a deep breath. She needed to make sure she upped the charm. She didn't think she could stand another turn away empty handed. She plastered on a friendly face before heading inside. This time her efforts were not completely fruitless as about twenty minutes later she was leaving with a basket loaded full of bedsheets that needed scrubbing. It was a 'trial run' and was not really an ideal job, but it was something.
Jarin didn't know where Dasha was, but if he chanced seeing her back at the shack, he could let her know about how his day went in case she cared. As he walked, he spotted a woman with black hair walking from the boarding house with a basket of dirty sheets. He would have passed her by as he walked, but paused midstride and grinned."Hey, it's you," Jarin called, striding over towards her and flashing her his smile--not that she cared or paid any mind. "Need help carrying that?" He gestured at the basket, though it was clear that Dasha could handle it.
At the sound of Jarin's voice Dasha had to suppress an audible heavy sigh. She was banking on having more done before he showed back up, but that hadn't happened. Not to mention she wasn't too thrilled with how things had gone back there, even though she had been successful in landing something. Nothing had gone wrong really, but she had made what she personally considered a mistake. She continued on, not changing her pace. "No, you're probably tired. I've got it." She said, dismissing his offer. She didn't trust herself to say much more at the moment, not until she cooled down about the events of the morning. She had more than spent all the forced charm she could muster for now.
"Tired? Me, tired?" Jarin's brows shot up at that, but he dropped his hands to his sides. With his long legs, he easily matched her pace and frowned to himself. He really wish she didn't seem to have him so much. If they didn't clash together, they might actually have a chance to make this whole thing of being stuck in the past work. But not if she was going to keep acting if he was the bad guy for getting them trapped. Annoyed, he rubbed his brow and wished it weren't so incredibly hot.
Dasha knew better than to touch that subject any further. Anything she could say in reply wouldn't be well received or would be taken the wrong way. As silence hung over them with nothing more than the sound of their boots hitting against the dusty ground to break it she realized that just the original statement on it's own probably radiated negative implications anyway. ". . . Sorry" The word felt foreign for her to say aloud and was certainly forced. She hadn't used it directly in years and hadn't really planned on doing so anytime in the foreseeable future, but she knew it was a necessary step in the right direction on her part. Afterall, he wasn't really the one that she was upset with, not right now anyway. It was this whole cursed situation. She kept her eyes forward, not so much as sparing a glance over to him. If she did she doubted she would be able to will any further words meant to bring peace into existence. "It wasn't the best morning for me."
Jarin shrugged at her apology, trying not to appear so surprised. "It's alright. I know you're capable enough to carry a little basket." He shoved his hands into his pockets, the metal band around his arm reminding him of how they'd gotten here in the first place. "What happened?" he asked curiously. "Nobody needed help?"
"That was the story for a few places." Dasha confirmed. ". . . Many didn't seem to think I would be capable of meeting the demands of any position they could offer me." She fell silent again, her jaw set firmly as she recalled the voices of everyone who had underestimated her abilities today without any true substance to base it on. Even the one job that she had managed to get had come with such concerns. She had to make sure these sheets were perfect if she wished to obtain any further employment through the boarding house. Although she knew she was more than capable, each doubt from the parties that she had spoken to had made her feel small. Inadequate. Helpless. Those feelings did not have space to belong in the life of Dasha Ripley. They belonged to a little girl who she had worked so hard to sever herself from ; A girl who as far as she was concerned was dead. A girl who's name she had accidentally given due to the influx of unwanted emotions and the memories they dredged up instead of presenting a new random one. With any luck the woman who she had spoken to at the boarding house would not remember the name she had given her, and she could change it. She did not want to be haunted by the ghost of a previous time that she would rather not remember.
Jarin raised his brow further at that, then shook his head. "It's different here, and you know that. You know you're capable, and who cares what others think. People will always have their own opinions on that sort of matter. Ignore them." He hoped his words didn't bother her, as he meant them more as an encouragement--for some reason--and not that he was brushing her aside.
Dasha knew what he said was right. Normally she wouldn't have had a problem with doing such a thing, but nothing within the past few days had been normal. She had more stress on her than usual, that had to be what was throwing her off so much. "I suppose so." she said in reply, not having much else to say on the matter. The further they got away from the center of the town the more at ease she started to feel again. ". . . How did your morning go?" She asked, mainly just because she wanted to change the subject.
"It went fine. Boring, but it went," Jarin said, swiping some sweat from the back of his neck. Before long the sun would start going down and the air would cool again, probably requiring a fire to keep them warm enough. It was annoying how much the weather constantly changed."Unfortunately, though, I didn't learn a single thing about metal working. I organized..."
Dasha wasn't the least bit surprised by such. She had figured that would be the case. "I'm sure you'll start actually learning soon enough . . . probably just wants to make sure you're worth his time teaching first." There wasn't any use in her getting frustrated with that, afterall she couldn't control that part in the least. Eventually the shack that they had been staying in came into view.
"Yeah," Jarin nodded, though the way she worded it annoyed him. "Probably same for you, too." Not that cleaning really needed as much instruction...He picked up his pace and entered the shack, ducking low enough so he wouldn't hit his head. Inside, he looked for food, but saw none. One of them would have to go either fishing or hunting. What Jarin really needed was for Dasha to teach him how to do it better. He had learned a tiny bit of target practice while being a prince back at his palace, but since it wasn't what everyone else wanted him to do all the time, the practice was basically useless.
Dasha hesitated outside the structure for a moment, contemplating heading straight to the creek and starting on the sheets. She wanted to get them done and out of the way . . . but she knew it was best to rest for at least a few minutes out of the sun. If she let herself get too worn down by the heat it wouldn't be a good thing. Deciding that the sheets could wait for a little bit she placed the basket on the ground and slid it in and off to the side before following it through the doorway.
Jarin sat down on the currently cold fireplace ledge, stretching his legs out in front of himself. For some reason his back was bothering him somewhat, and he shivered in spite of the heat. He couldn't allow himself to get infected, especially not here in this unhygenic place and especially not when he just got a job. He was sure he could just sleep it off and decided to put his mind on something else. "You need to teach me how to catch something to eat so I'm not depending on you," Jarin suggested.
Dasha settled in at the other side of the room and pulled the basket along with her. She started looking over the sheets on the top, trying to gauge how much work they would be and locate any areas that might need a little extra attention. She glanced up only when Jarin spoke. ". . . I suppose that would be a decent idea." She replied with a shrug. "And I guess it wouldn't be too hard to teach you how to set up a snare or something."
"Yeah," Jarin agreed, glad she wasn't going to toss the idea out the window at first chance. He was starving, actually, because he'd only stopped to eat a small crust of bread the man offered, smaller than his offering because he knew he couldn't eat the blacksmith out of his job. After all, he was helping both of them by being willing enough to teach Jarin the basics.
Dasha finished inspecting the sheets, placing the ones that were bound to be more problematic towards the top of the pile. It was getting late in the afternoon and she was sure he was hungry, she was herself. If only that dog wouldn't of been here last night and stolen the leftovers. ". . . I could show you on my way to the creek." She offered up, figuring that would be the best use of time.
Jarin's stomach growled and he nodded. "You going to wash those now or later? Did they give you any soap at all since we can't buy any?" He glanced around their small habitation, wishing that food would magically appear in front of them. He missed eating his steaks and rich soups and seafood...all rich-people food that he would probably never eat, at least not for a long time.
"It's going to take them a bit to dry, even in this heat, so the sooner I get them done the better." Dasha replied, figuring that was answer enough. She planned on leaving again as soon as she recovered a bit more from being out in the heat. "There's a bar of laundry soap at the bottom of the basket, so that's covered . . . yesterday I spotted some blackberries not too far from the creek as well. I could show you where those are too if you want."
Jarin grinned. "Blackberries! I love blackberries. I used to go out into the surrounding land of the estate and pick blackberries from the bordering bushes when I was little. I got pretty messy but George always cleaned me up before Mom saw me." He realized he had been blabbering on about his youth hood, and blushed--not from the heat. "Ah. Anyway. That would be nice if you could show me," he added quickly.
It felt odd getting a short glimpse of what his past had been like. Dasha had always made it a point to know nothing about her charges other than a face, name, and bounty amount. It was easier to stay indifferent that way. Of course in this case she hadn't been very indifferent to begin with anyway. She had disliked him before she had even set eyes on him in person due to his title. Perhaps what truly felt odd to her was being reminded that even princes had fairly normal and innocent child hood memories. She pretended not to notice the red tones that bloomed under his skin as she looked to the task of weaving a couple strands of her dark hair back into the braid it had escaped from instead. "Alright . . . We can go as soon as you're ready."
"I'm ready," Jarin said quickly, standing. "Uh, you want help with that basket on the way?" He was relieved that she didn't say anything about his major blushing. Hopefully they would be able to find something to eat for the night. Fish would obviously work, but everything was a lot different now that he didn't have everything he needed right there.
Dasha hadn't really expected him to be ready so quickly. She definitely wasn't complaining though, the quicker they left the sooner things would get done. "Nah, it's alright, I've got it." She said as she stood up again herself. She wasn't very often one to accept help, even if she did need it.. She dusted the worst of the dirt from her clothing before picking up the basket and heading back out the door and into the sun again.
"Sure," Jarin shrugged indifferently. It didn't bother him if she felt his help was unnecessary. As soon as he stepped back out into the sun, that heavy weighted feeling fell back onto his shoulders, pounding in his skull. The only nice thing about wearing long sleeves was that his arms wouldn't burn, but most of the reason was so he wouldn't show his wrist with the metal band. They walked towards the river, Jarin decided he really wasn't suited for hot weather and leaned against one of the few trees for a second. After a moment, he silently continued without looking at Dasha.
"It's hot," he said in response before she could even ask her question.
Although she didn't really allow herself to show it, the heat was having it's toll on Dasha as well and she was getting tired of it. Her steps felt more labored than usual, her limbs overall seeming heavier than they should be, even with the added weight of the basket factored in. For a brief moment the thought that it might not be just the heat crossed her mind but she pushed it away. She had only just dropped off the grid, she still had time. It had to simply be a combination of running low on energy and not drinking enough water. She glanced back as the sound of Jarin's footsteps dropped off, seeing him stopped and propped against the tree momentarily. She didn't stop but did slow her pace a bit to where it would be easier for him to catch up when he started moving again. "So it is." She agreed upon hearing his explanation when he rejoined her. She didn't say anything more on the matter though. When they finally reached the creek she set down the basket and used her sleeve to wipe away the drop of sweat she felt training down the back of her neck. ". . .The blackberries are about five yards up from here, just past that crooked tree." She offered up, intending to give him the choice to go alone or have her show him.
Jarin tilted his gaze towards where her finger was pointed and nodded. "Alright. I'll be back," he said, having snatched up a dusty cloth in which to store them in before they left. They had to get used to the filth, him especially. "See you later." He turned and marched up the grass and towards the blackberries. As he made it to the tree, a large twisted oak that must have been struck by lightning, the bushes appeared, large and full of fruit. He smiled and started forward to start picking the berries off. He stuffed more into his mouth than his cloth, remembering the memory he had blurted out to Dasha about.
Dasha watched him walk off and then decided to start on her own task. She pulled the basket full of sheets closer to the water's edge. She was going to get wet, there was no way around it. She dumped all the sheets from the basket and sorted them into different piles based on how dirty they were. She assessed the area, planning where she could hang the sheets to dry before grabbing the bar of laundry soap and setting to it.
Jarin busied himself with the berries, finding that he was actually enjoying this task. It was bittersweet in a way, he knew, because as much as he didn't want to think about how he was stuck here in the past, at least it reminded him of the good times he had had when he was a kid. He moved towards a clump that was half in the sun, then paused as a hot wave passed over him, causing him to stumble. The heat shouldn't be bothering him like this. Sure it was hot, but it wasn't like he hadn't traveled to different places around the world, some to very hot countries. As he reached for a rather plump blackberry, his whole world suddenly spun and he toppled off balance, falling to his side. He grunted, angrily wiping away the sweat beaded on his forehead, and tried staggering back to his feet. He fell again, and Jarin decided to just stay seated where he was until the dizziness passed.
Already busy with scrubbing the first sheet, Dasha gave the prince little more thought beyond hoping he had the good sense to be careful and not snag his shirt sleeves on the thorns of the blackberries. She didn't want to be forced to try and track down a needle and some thread to mend a ripped shirt. It took quite a bit of rough scrubbing to get the first clean, and by the time she was done with it she was already tired of hearing the loud slosh of water caused by her efforts. She rung as much water out of the fabric as possible before taking it and placing it to hang and dry over a low hanging branch of a nearby tree, careful so it wouldn't drag the ground.
Jarin rested for quite some time before the dizziness passed, and when it did, he went back to picking blackberries. He had spilled some of them, and now they had little pieces of dirt stuck to them. Stupid. He replaced them and stood again, trying to ignore the burning in his forehead from the heat--or whatever was causing it--and reached for more of the fat fruits. There were a few stains on his right sleeve, but at least he hadn't ripped anything. For some reason, he was sure that Dasha would be just as annoyed at it as his mother used to be.((Their relationship makes me crack up. Jarin's like the little boy who's constantly getting into trouble and Dasha's like the mom who's constantly having to pick up after him XD))
Dasha repeated the same process nine more times, the only thing really changing the tree she walked to to hang up the freshly washed sheets. As she hung up the last one she breathed a relieved sigh before stepping back and admiring her work. Although she was well acquainted with hard work, she wasn't at all used to the harsh composition of the soap. That coupled with all the scrubbing she had done had worn away the top layer of skin at some parts of her hands. That was to be expected though, and it would heal quick enough. ((Very true so far, lol))
((XD I love it))Jarin eventually returned, heading towards the river where Dasha probably still was. He had filled the berry sack back up after emptying it a few times, and now he was mostly full and tired and ready to sleep. He really was feeling sick, and he had started shivering even though the air was still hot. He went and sat down on a nearby log. The clean white sheets blew gently in a breeze, seeming out of place in this setting. He shivered and drew his knees up closer to his chest.
"Got lots of blackberries, if you want any," he said.
Dasha heard him approaching and only glanced in the direction he approached from initially to make sure it wasn't anyone else. Once she was sure it was just Jarin she checked on the first sheet she had hung up to see if it was dry enough to pull down and fold. It wasn't, not quite yet anyway. She looked behind to where he was now sitting on a log when he offered up the berries. They did sound good and she was hungry, but she still had her qualms about accepting any help from others. "You should save them for tomorrow." She said in reply instead. "I'll just get some myself," She glanced him over, her eyes almost immediately drawn to the deep purple to burgundy stains on his shirt. Another thing to clean. At least it wasn't another rip. "granted that you left any".
"More for me, then," Jarin said without difficulty. If she was going to act that stubborn, even to the point of refusing food from him because he was a stupid prince that he didn't even want to be, then the only person she would be disappointing was herself. "There might be a few rotten ones left, or those hard green ones, but it's better than nothing. It's not like I would be of any help to you of all people." He rolled his eyes, then caught her staring at the stains on the sleeves of his shirt. "It's for camouflage, alright?"
This time it was Dasha's turn to roll her eyes, "Sure it is." She didn't say anything more on the matter of his shirt. She was washing her hands of it. If he wanted to look like a mess so be it. Although she forced her expression to stay fairly neutral, she was frustrated with his attitude. For every step forward she thought they they were making it seemed it wasn't long before they were taking three steps backwards again. Contrary to what he may believe, not all of her actions revolved around hatred for him. In this case she just didn't want to feel like she owed him anything. Him or anyone else for that matter. She knew that it could be seen as a fair trade since she had been feeding him prior, but to her that was just simply part of her job. She had dragged him here so she had to look after him. It didn't work the other way around. She busied herself with checking the sheets again, rearranging one that looked as if it could slip off if a strong enough gust of wind came along. "You know If you're going to think the worst and take offense to literally everything I say, its going to be a very unpleasant stay."
"I was just trying to find humor in it," Jarin sighed, all jesting disappearing from his face. "Sorry. I left plenty of berries for you back on the bushes."Why did they have to be so different in their attitudes? Dasha seemed to be constantly finding things wrong with what he said or did, then blamed everything on him. He even tried lightening a situation with a joke, but all she could do was act as if he was offended by it and make him look like the bad guy. Maybe, Jarin thought, he needed to stop acting like himself and become a robot who listened to everything she said with a simple yes or no. That would make her happy. Jarin hesitated, then set the berries to the side and worked to pull off his shirt over his head, revealing both his surprisingly muscled body (for a prince who apparently did nothing but get into trouble) and his bandaged back from where Dasha had ripped it open when she dragged him over the jagged wood pile.
"May I please borrow a little bit of your soap?" Jarin asked as politely as he could. He held out a hand towards where the soap was resting and waited. Probably that would irritate her as well, now that he was actually trying to make things easier for her.
It hadn't even crossed Dasha's mind that he may of meant it to be more or less harmless. She wasn't really around others much, and when she was and such a tone was used, it was always intended to be at direct expense to her. She took in a deep breath but said nothing further, letting the topic drop rather than try and amend it and make things worse. She went back to check on the first sheet, now finding it dry enough to fold. She purposely, and perhaps a bit childishly, kept her back turned to the prince while she folded it. She only glanced back at him over her shoulder momentarily when he asked about the soap. "Sure, have at it."
Jarin thanked her and picked up the slippery bar. He soaked his shirt sleeves before draping them across a rock and scrubbing hard at the stains with the soap. Some of the bubbles turned purple, and he kept at it. He rinsed it a few times, scrubbed some more, and rinsed again until most of the color had washed out. Then he wrung out the water and pulled it back on. He would have asked Dasha if she wanted help with the towels, but decided against it and sat back on the rock.
Dasha went back to pulling down the sheets and folding them. It took a bit of extra effort to make sure they didn't drag the ground while doing so. Once she finished with one she would place it carefully down in the basket and then move on to the next. She paid little mind to Jarin's efforts to scrub up his shirt. She did have a few tips that she could have offered him to make it a bit easier, but she figured it was best just to keep her mouth shut since there was a chance he would take it the wrong way. By the time she was pulling down the last sheet to fold he was already done anyway.
When Dasha was ready, Jarin stood and waited so they could head back to the shack. He walked silently, occasionally kicking a stone away from him in the dust and watching it as it created a small puff cloud rising from the ground. Once they left the cover of the trees, the sun bore down on them again and Jarin grunted impatiently and rubbed his temple.
On the walk back Dasha carried the basket tightly, not taking any chances with dropping it and having dust covered sheets. She really didn't want to be back at square one with them, especially since it was still very warm out here. She was really starting to get tired of the sun at this point. She glanced over to Jarin, catching his movement. ". . . Headache?" She asked, figuring that was the reason behind the action.
"Yeah, it's hot," Jarin said, squinting. "I would think the sun would eventually start going down by now. It's like it's still early morning, just in a different position in the sky." He shrugged and kept walking. His boots were covered in a thick layer of dust, and so was the rest of him. "What about you? Headache?"
It was a fair enough point. There seemed to be a grand total of two conditions here; scorching the entire time the sun is out, and cold as soon as it disappears. There was little to no reprieve from the extreme temperatures. "No." Dasha answered in reply to his question. She was moving a bit slower than she had been earlier, proving that even she wasn't immune to the draining effects of the heat. "Just a bit tired . . . but you should probably drink some more water when we get back, could be a sign of dehydration."
"That's good," Jarin said mildly. "I will, and you should, too. You're a bounty hunter, sure, but you're still human." He realized she might take that the wrong way and shook his head. "I didn't mean that in a bad way."When they reached the shelter, he ducked underneath it into the barely cooler temperature. It was still hot inside, but at least it wasn't the direct sun bearing down on both of them. He found the bucket of water, scooped some into the battered tin cup, and drank gratefully. It was definitely refreshing. When he finished, he scooped some more and held it out to Dasha.
Dasha knew he was right. Often times when she was focused on something, especially something such as this, she forgot to take care of herself as well as she should. In the future it had costs her little to wear herself down, any ailment or injury she had given herself could be quickly corrected with convenient medical intervention. Here that wasn't an option, she needed to be more careful.Even though he was right,, that didn't mean she had to admit as much out loud. Instead she simply nodded, as if she were indifferent about the matter. She glanced over to him momentarily at his last addition."Strangely enough, I didn't suspect you did to begin with." she replied with a shrug.
Once back to building she ducked inside under the boards after Jarin. She set the basket down, thankful to be rid of its extra weight. Even light things could become a burden to carry for extended amounts of time and in extreme elements.
When Jarin offered her the cup her automatic instinct was to refuse, but she caught herself. She glanced from the full cup, up to him, and back to the cup again before she took it. ". . .thanks". Once she took a sip she realized just how thirsty she was and had to remind herself not to gulp it down too quick and risk making herself sick.
Dasha telling him thanks was one of the most surprising things he had ever heard in his life. But Jarin knew that together they were both walking on thin ice, so he managed not to say anything about it and simply nodded. He moved away, sitting down on the floor and yawning. "Now we sleep and do it all over again until we can get out of here..." he sighed. It was very hot and he was trying not to be moody about it.
After Dasha finished with the water she placed the cup back where Jarin had picked it up from. She settled in on the floor as well, right next to where she had set down the basket. She pushed up her sleeves since they had no purpose while out of the direct sunlight. "Unfortunately so." She replied with a sigh of her own. ". . . With any luck the days will be absolutely monotonous. We don't need any more curveballs like the plague or something." She already had enough to worry about as it was, not only with Jarin but with herself. How much longer would she have before she ran out of time? What was protocol again? How long had it been already. . . a few days? She needed to start keeping track. She could start making notches across one of the boards with her knife. She absent-mindedly rubbed the back of her neck while entertaining such thoughts.
"Other end of town, across from general store, fur trade and leathersmith shop," he repeated in order to confirm where he was to go. "Fixed them as well as you could. Anything else?"