abraxaslogs | [closed] And it's strange to him

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[closed] And it's strange to him

Who: Crane and Diana
When: May
Where: One small town
What: Assisting those affected by the flood
Warnings: None currently

[Floods. Disasters. Scientists flood the local community and lend support: not out of charity but opportunity.

Crane watches them swarm the relief efforts while taking lunch: a flatbread and a glass of water flavoured with slices of lemon and lime. His own efforts have involved people, his words designed to engineer minds instead of erecting dams and sandbags. Is it a stressful time for the locals? Certainly. For others? Depends. One woman has heeded the call and taken to physical labour like a duck to water. He watches her work for a minute before announcing himself.]

What a small world.

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[When the call for aid comes, of course Diana answers--not only because her help is needed, but also because it affords her a rare opportunity to see some of the smaller settlements in the Free Cities territory. She does wish it was under better circumstances, but still, she's glad for the break from the bustling city of Cadens.

Building barricades against the rising waters seems like the best use of her abilities right now, so she hauls sandbags, more at a time than a normal mortal might, and drops them where they are most needed for folk to arrange as they see fit. The work is not necessarily difficult for her, but it is rewarding; she is making a marked difference for this people, and that is all she could ever ask to do.

When she hears a familiar voice, call out to her, she has a sandbag slung over each shoulder, but turns quickly as if she isn't burdened by them at all. With the need for ease of movement with the labor, she'd chosen a short chiton dyed deep green, a marked difference from either formal dress or her armor. A smile blooms over her lips as she sees him, and she deposits the materials at a nearby budding barricade before approaching him.]

I have found that the world is much bigger than I ever dreamed. But I understand your meaning.

[Barricading the flood is slow and laborious: a fun show for those watching from the side. Crane reclines against the bench and enjoys his refreshment, though he refuses to eat a bite. His private manner makes it difficult to eat with others and today's meeting hardly makes it necessary.

He shakes his head and offers a smile but remains sitting at his table.]

Of course. How is it going?

[Diana pauses in front of him, eyeing the small spread on the table briefly before her gaze returns to meet his. He had told her already that he was a healer of minds, so she assumes he is here to do that in some capacity, rather than build these stopgaps.

Her eyes flick towards the barricade for a moment, and then she nos shortly.]

We are progressing. If the gods are good, we will be able to finish these before the floodwaters set in. [A beat, and then she adds:] How is it going for you?

[If the gods are good. Crane locks his skepticism inside his mind and slides his glass into the middle of the table. He rises from his chair and clasps his hands at his back. Then he offers a polite tilt of his head.]

Well, it's difficult work. Not the physical kind like yours but it feels hard advocating support when people are unwilling to talk. Regardless, I understand why. People are afraid.

[She nods along as he speaks, knowing that what he says is true. One of the things she's learned during her time among men is that it is more difficult than she ever imagined to get someone to talk about something they don't want to talk about. Maybe Amazons are just used to being open with one another.]

They are. But we are here to help them feel less afraid, yes?

[Diana smiles, believing that with her whole heart.]

[Crane bows his head in agreement, lifting his heels off the grass, almost standing on tiptoes. He settles back onto the earth and nods once.]

Of course. Helping others is my raison d'etre.

[He smiles, believing that with anything but his heart.]

[That is the best possible answer he could have given, mirroring what Diana herself would have said. She makes a "come on" gesture, and then points towards a pile of supplies that are ready to be added to a barricade.]

Then let's help. Come, there is much to be done, and the daylight dwindles.

[One flick of the hand and his gaze is directed to a pile of wooden beams, rubble and bags of cement and sand. He fidgets on the spot and stretches on his heels, his limbs and joints painfully stiff. His nose crinkles as his hands clasp across his stomach.

Manual labour.]

Well, the sooner we start...

[The sooner he can kick back. He hauls a bag of cement onto his knees and up against his chest. He eyes a small wooden plank. No, that's too much.]

[She nods approvingly as he picks up the bag, knowing that they need every set of hands they can get to ensure the barriers get built before the floods hit. She can tell, however, that perhaps he isn't exactly comfortable with the idea, so she elects to be encouraging.

Diana gathers up some of the planks of wood he was looking at, not having any trouble lifting or balancing them. In her other arm, she hauls up two bags of cement. She smiles widely.]

The walk isn't far. Let's go.

[Encouragement enters one ear and immediately vacates the other. The display of raw strength wrinkles his nose but he will explain that as being a reserved man used to books and paper, not exercise and manual labour. He momentarily closes his eyes and listens to his heels crush grass - a soft sound that gives way to the trampling of dirt.

Pebbles make his foot wriggle and adjust. Small stones that become little more than gravel. It is not an enjoyable task but he is willing to commit to making an effort.]

You look like a woman who could do this for a living.

[For Diana, labor like this is simply another part of life. She has heightened strength and speed by the grace of her mother and father, and would not squander it. The distance and weight are nearly nothing to her, and she takes the time to enjoy the small-town scenery as they walk.

At his comment, she turns slightly to flash a smile.]

I would, but I pray to the gods that such an occupation never becomes necessary. I would prefer if disasters didn't befall these communities in the first place.

[What a quaint village. What a quiet village. Its streets full of people whose homes are buried in galleons of water. There is nothing but water around, mud and dirt where people had once lingered. Now those people are repairing their homes. Surely this is the loudest they've been?

Crane wrinkles his nose and adjusts his sandbag, resting it on his knee. It takes him a while to carry on but he does, motivated not by the urge to help but by things he could accomplish here.]

Well, I would hardly disagree. But people invite disaster when building homes upon a flood plain. There is something to admire about how mankind can adapt to live in adverse environments, really.

[She hums in agreement, but doesn't immediately respond, instead taking the time to nod and quickly greet those they pass. Everyone is hard at work, and yes, it does seem like this is probably the most activity this town has seen in a few decades. When she finally does respond, she sounds thoughtful.]

I have found that men are wonderfully resilient, even when they bring the hardship upon themselves. Perhaps this is very fertile ground, and the only place to farm within miles. They must have known the risks of living here, and chose to anyway. I find that brave.

[Crane offers a smile and straightens his back, stopping for breath as people walk past, balancing his load against his knee. He considers what she admires - bravery and resilience - and amuses himself with the idea people are neither.]

At this point, I would agree. Their success speaks for itself.

[He doesn't look around at the flood and laugh.]

[They come to the area that needs reinforcement, and Diana easily sets her burden on the ground. Perhaps if she had come into her power sooner, if she had learned what it truly meant to be a god, she could have done more for people like this, helped them better their situation faster; but that is not a path she lets her thoughts wander down. She is who she is now, and that is all she can work with. Tomorrow, she, too, will be better.]

So it does. Now, come. There are more supplies to transport, and the day is still young.

[Eyes narrow at Diana from behind her back. Her comment - more a command in his opinion - needles and writhes inside his ego. Had she suggested his help was welcome, that his presence was felt, she would not be so goddamn annoying. One free and eager hand wipes sweat off his brow. Two flatten his hair back into order after an angry moment.

He expresses nothing of his displeasure and follows her along, back towards his burdens, back towards their work. Would it be wrong to ditch her with the excuse of returning to his work? Would it even be relevent? He doesn't care and after another hour's work he politely excuses himself - he needs to return to helping minds - and leaves.]

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[closed] And it's strange to him

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