songerein | Half My Life's In Books, Written Pages

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Half My Life's In Books, Written Pages

Who: Soldier: 76 &anyone
Which: Open Interactive Dream; Quest #0901(Baby Tapirs) || Open Log
Where: Dream || Edge of forest and fields
What: The task of feeding baby tapirs within a dream || Recovering after a run in with some red caps, but also there's a fairy cow covered in blackberries.
Warnings: Weirdness that dreams can take on, especially ones edging bad. || Injury.

A.Tapirs

A rich orange sky with yellow clouds and streaks of blue as if it couldn't decide if it was daylight or sunset, fields and corn stalks well over six feet high. Went on for miles, stretched out as far as the eye could see. An old barn, farmhouse- all too far apart to be normal. Smoke rising in the distance but whatever fires they had to be coming from out of sight.

Quiet, with a man standing near some fencing just beside what looked like the start of a corn maze. A scowl on his face, one that didn't fit the young face just by the look of him- "Of course it's one of these," muttered, aware of what was happening to some extent. These were the types that could pull him in, but something had interrupted that.

There was a baby tapir by his foot, gnawing on an ear of corn that looked as if it was glitching between yellow and multicolored. Another wandering a little.

Sounds of groaning machinery was keeping it's distance, at least.

"How many of you got in here?" Little punks.

notice; replies for this prompt will be coming from statued

B. Blackberry Bramble

Had it been the smartest idea to take up the redcap iron hunt from the board alone? Possibly not, but he'd needed to do something, and why not take up one that would have had him fighting? Didn't imagine it would have been like stepping on a fire ant nest the moment he'd gone in to the ruins and brushed against some vines within. Gotten out, gotten some of the farm tools back along with some scrap he'd stashed away.

Currently? 76 was seated on a fallen over log, jacket set aside and already patched up, instead checking over bandaging on his arms. Not alone, however.

Grazing just beside him was one of those Fairy Cows, green leaves and ripe blackberries adoring it. He'd found it on his trip back-

"The moment this is re-wrapped?" A grunt, winding a bit of fabric around his forearm, talking to the cow, "You're going back. Probably safer for you back in your field with your friends." Hell of a day, really.

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A nod, hand moving along to the cow's flank for a bit of scratching that she was leaning in to, "Yeah, some do." Especially some of the younger ones- then again the older ones would happily bowl someone over or just not notice it.

Weird for a cow to smell of ripe blackberries, but there they were growing on her.

"It's a possibility," young and energetic, and just as happy to stand and graze- or get petted and scritched. "I'll be fine. Walked on worse."

"You know, that's not really reassuring." Roxas admits, giving 76 a look. But he nods to him, before looking to the cow. "You hear that? We're gonna take you home. You excited?" And he'll give her one more good pat before taking a step forward.

"Where was the farm you said you saw?"

"Is from me," said with a shrug. This was minor, really. Other than the sting and achhhhe there wasn't much else to it. Could stitch anything up later, but for now he would rather some keep open just in case- even if under bandaging to protect them.

He moved towards the cow's head, fingers and palm rubbing along before moving down along cheek towards jaw as her tail flicked, attention pulling from Roxas to him after she made a noise in reply. "C'mon, time to get you back." At least she seemed eager to follow, too.

"Can keep to her side, encourage her from wandering again," and sneak pats to said side.

"Okay." Roxas will do as he's told, moving to the cow's side as he begins walking. He keeps a hand on the blackberry cow's flank, gently patting her soft fur as they moved.

"You're really good with her. Are you used to working with cows?"

At least she wasn't too tired to walk, keeping note that there was no limping or signs of exhaustion, watching for it from the corner of his vision. Last thing he needed was having to carry her- even if he could. Rather someone come from the adventure in better condition.

"Grew up on a farm," didn't have many animals, but things happened during state fairs and the like. Had enjoyed getting involved as a kid. "You pick up a thing or two."

Wouldn't that be a sight? An old guy like 76, carrying a cow... it would be something to behold, that's for sure.

"You did?" Roxas asks, looking over the cow's neck to look at the old soldier. "You don't look like someone who grew up on a farm."

"Life can do that," take a farm boy and make him in to something else- and because he let it happen. Became hat he thought he had to be. Jacket and mask just a different set of armor for him.

76 kept his hand on the cow as a loose sort of guide, fingers curling when he felt it was needed to keep her set in the right direction, but otherwise gave little correction during their walk.

"Huh." Roxas waits a bit to see if 76 will elaborate, but the silence stretches on the longer they walk. After a few steps, he turns to look at him once more.

"Well... what's life like for you back home, then?" He asks quite innocently. He's curious!

Silence wasn't unwelcome, wasn't welcome either it just- was. How long he traveled alone he was far more used to the sounds of where he was than the voices of someone with him. Had even taken a bit of time to be used to Ana traveling with him back home. Figured it was better to be used to a lack of conversation here, rather than letting himself slip as he had been.

This was all temporary—

"Busy. Always moving. Got a mission to take care of and can't stop for it," and this place was... It technically wasn't in the way of that. This was just some fragment of himself, while the rest carried on.

"Mission?" That actually causes Roxas to perk up in recognition, blinking a couple of times at 76.

"You go on missions too?"

A low hum, "Yeah. Self-appointed these days. I'm a soldier," and now a vigilante that's cleaning up the streets in his pursuit of answers. A mission was still a mission, all the same. His hand moved under the blackberry fairy cow's head again to get her attention, rubbing ears when her coarse went back on track rather than trying to stray away.

"Infiltration, information gathering, fighting," the whole nine-yards.

"A soldier?" Roxas knew what soldiers were. That was another name for a fighter, and he knows fighters all too well. He nods a couple of times, looking down the road.

"Sounds a lot like what I used to do. I used to do missions like that before, when I would go to a new world."

"Just an old soldier," and that was as far as he'd go with it. Best to keep it as vague as possible, because it was all he felt he was. Nothing more, nothing less, and a reason he was fine going by his old number that was meaningless and at best random to those that simply had no knowledge of its origin.

Those that would know could take it for a warning as far as he cared.

He knew what Roxas meant, but he wasn't going to speak up some other version told him. Keep some bit of distance there. Differences. "One way to get a lay of the land."

"Well, just because you're old doesn't mean you're not able to fight." Roxas knew that all too well. All one had to do was look at Xehanort, or Xigbar, or Yen Sid for that.

"Yeah, that's what we had to do. I didn't really get why at first, but... well, even if it wasn't for the best reasons, they were good skills to have, I guess."

"Being old means I'm not that easy to kill."

Good and bad, he just kept going. Could see fencing in the distance now, and a few buildings that read 'farm' to him at the very least. Almost home for the cow. "Can't always help the side you're on, since both have ways of getting you to work for them," even he knew the worst had easy ways of getting people to join without knowing what they were a part of.

"Yeah... that's not wrong. Older people seem to be harder to defeat." He says it like... he's got experience with that. Which might be startling? But also might not.

"Well, for what it's worth, I'd rather fight for my own side. I'm not really cut out for being the hero; I just want to do what I can for my friends." He says it with a light shrug. But he looks up when he sees the farm. "Oh... you think that's where she's from?"

It wasn't, given what he already knew- and there was something unfortunate about that he supposed. Possibly for a variety of reasons, but it was best left untouched, even if he hummed vaguely in reply.

"Sides comin in to play is when things get complicated," and too many things pulling in multiple directions. Reason he was going about things as he was back home. A low grunt. "That, or they might know."

"Yeah. That's what I find, too. I'd rather fight for what I think's important, than what someone tells me is." At the end of the day, Roxas just wants to be there for and protect his friends.

"Hopefully." Roxas nods, then pats the cow once more. "I bet she'll be happy to go home. You think we could come visit her sometime?"

A low grunt, agreeing fully. He had already played that game, entrenched it as both a soldier and a man who had to walk the lines of the political game with egos. Some old fashioned vengeance was all he could manage these days.

"Probably." Happy as a cow could be to be back in familiar fields with others of their herd- "With the fact we're bringing her back? More than likely, yeah."

"I hope so. I'd like to come visit her while I'm here." Funny, how he could go from talking about fighting and missions one minute but then finding joy in visiting a fairy cow in the next. Just a sign that despite what he's gone through, he's still got that childish light within him.

"You said you grew up on a farm, right? Maybe you'll be able to be friends with the farmer who owns her."

Depending on how things went- "Likely have plenty of time to do that, or even help out more," other than just bringing a cow back to it's farm. Still, place looked a bit of a mess, but he could see where broken fences had been freshly mended, so it was leaning towards this being a possible place the blackberry cow had wandered from.

"Not looking to make friends," easier to keep unattached. "Still help out as it comes up."

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Half My Life's In Books, Written Pages

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