auryn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
do_what_thou_wilt) wrote2015-04-02 02:53 pm
do_what_thou_wilt) wrote2015-04-02 02:53 pm
Entry tags:
to live where one will
It's raining, and that means it's muddy, and cold, and everything takes a little longer than it needs to. Auryn doesn't care. When he looks at the work in front of him, what he sees is freedom.
He knew, almost immediately, that he couldn't keep staying in the motel. It was good, in its way, for a while: motels and hostels have served him well in his travels, but he doesn't like paying what's basically overpriced rent to borrow something. There have been a lot of ways he's gotten himself from place to place, but the itchiness he'd been feeling to get out wasn't the same drive he usually felt to get out of a place.
He's not done with Siren Cove, yet, and that means finding a place to live. Making a home, not a camp or a place to crash.
His research had been meticulous. Someplace close enough to water to take advantage of the coast and the natural energies of the ocean, but far enough away that he isn't exposed. Away from town, easily hidden. He'd settled on a space a bit east of the Atwater place, undeveloped land but not so far off the road that it's hard to find again.
And then he'd started building, his tiny off the grid home. All told it's about 200 square feet with its upper half-story spiraling into the arms of a tree. He's done as much manual construction as magical lifting because it's his that way, his energy poured into the place, his blood in the wood when he gives power to the protections breathed into the place. But maybe he did a little suggesting to make the water collection work so well or to haul firewood.
No building permits, no permission, and the ward that makes people have a tendency to walk around it and forget it's there isn't, probably, legal either. The trees have accepted him, and no one's using the space, and that's all he's concerned with.
He's in a good mood then, heading back there, walking along the shoulder of the road with a knot of wood and a box that's equal parts hammer and nails and magical tokens.
[OOC: Open! Find Auryn and his tiny!house. Or get suspicious about what he's up to. But for the love of god, don't start googling tiny houses. Don't do as I have done.]
He knew, almost immediately, that he couldn't keep staying in the motel. It was good, in its way, for a while: motels and hostels have served him well in his travels, but he doesn't like paying what's basically overpriced rent to borrow something. There have been a lot of ways he's gotten himself from place to place, but the itchiness he'd been feeling to get out wasn't the same drive he usually felt to get out of a place.
He's not done with Siren Cove, yet, and that means finding a place to live. Making a home, not a camp or a place to crash.
His research had been meticulous. Someplace close enough to water to take advantage of the coast and the natural energies of the ocean, but far enough away that he isn't exposed. Away from town, easily hidden. He'd settled on a space a bit east of the Atwater place, undeveloped land but not so far off the road that it's hard to find again.
And then he'd started building, his tiny off the grid home. All told it's about 200 square feet with its upper half-story spiraling into the arms of a tree. He's done as much manual construction as magical lifting because it's his that way, his energy poured into the place, his blood in the wood when he gives power to the protections breathed into the place. But maybe he did a little suggesting to make the water collection work so well or to haul firewood.
No building permits, no permission, and the ward that makes people have a tendency to walk around it and forget it's there isn't, probably, legal either. The trees have accepted him, and no one's using the space, and that's all he's concerned with.
He's in a good mood then, heading back there, walking along the shoulder of the road with a knot of wood and a box that's equal parts hammer and nails and magical tokens.
[OOC: Open! Find Auryn and his tiny!house. Or get suspicious about what he's up to. But for the love of god, don't start googling tiny houses. Don't do as I have done.]
no subject
As soon as she was inside, she felt her body welcome the heat. "So you can create as well. It's very nicely done, Auryn. It feels like a home."
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He smiles as she settles in. "Thank you, that's what I was hoping for. I've -- rarely had much to call home. Sometimes you have to build things up from the ground if you want them."
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It used to be with exception for her family, but those might be the most tiring people around right now. If it wasn't for Isaiah, Aoife would have moved deep into the sea every day. She smiles at the thought of them living deep in the sea, Aoife living off his breathing. It's too soppy.
"I'm sorry this is the first time for you to have such an experience. Everyone should have a home, a place of comfort."
no subject
"Well, there you are, me too." He smiles. "Do you want a drink? There's not much in here yet, but I could make tea or coffee."
"Thank you," he says, though he doesn't want to be felt sorry for. "That's not everyone's opinion. In my experience," he answers, "when people find that you have something secret and all of your own, they want to take it away from you or have it for themselves. Especially if you're not like them." His face goes a little hard and he realizes how bitter he's coming off. "That's why I have the wards. Not to be some hermit. To protect myself."
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She looks around, seeing if she can sit somewhere that won't leave stains. "Wards. Not very aggressive ones, if I'm allowed to walk in here without sensing a thing. Or was it the wind still clinging to me keeping me from hurting?"
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The kitchen's small and connected to a dining-living room, a table and chairs rescued from someone's tag sale and a wooden ledge to sit on built into the house itself. At some point he might upholster the chairs and bench but he hasn't gotten there yet. There are stairs up to the loft bedroom from there, and in the space below is a small study area filled with more esoteric materials and books.
"No, they're not aggressive," he agrees, glancing at her. He's not sure if she's curious or judging him. "They're meant to put people off the trail, not harm them. If there's a real threat to me, I'll deal with it in person." The kettle whistles, and he pours water into a cup. "But you were with me, I suspect that's why you didn't sense them. Do you have a tea preference?"
no subject
"Something with herbs, please. Nothing black, I'm a weak tea drinker. Thank you."
"Can I .." She gestures at the table. "Sit down, with my wet clothing, do you mind? Well, wet-like, I think you're poking enough heat in there to have me air dried in less than thirty minutes. Thank you, I always like it well-toasty."
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"Hibiscus?" he suggests, feeling a little like his mother in what's probably a good way. His memories are a little biased, but not much of what he remembers about her is bad. It's good for calm, and he tends to keep it around along with a supply of other herbs that might not taste quite as nice.
"Yes, sit," he says with a bemused expression. "It'll dry. But that's another good thing about having such a small space - it's nice and warm in here quickly."
no subject
No need to think about her. Aoife pulls back a chair and sits down, locking her legs at the ankle. "I will have your jacket dry-cleaned, of course, if that's what you want. Sea water can be quite destructive to clothes."
no subject
Auryn smiles, almost amused at the thought put into that. His clothing's minimal and practical, and no household he's lived in could afford very many clothes that couldn't just be thrown into the wash. "Thanks," he says, "that's not necessary. That jacket's been through a lot, I don't think it'll give out on me yet."
no subject
Aoife nods. "If you say so. I'll just leave it here before departing, then."
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"A tea making witch. Well, I'm a witch who makes tea." He smiles, taking a sip of his own. "It is my own blend, though it's cribbed from what I remember of my mother. She always kept herbs around." He gestures at his cabinets. "And now I have a place to keep them, so do I. Though some of them are better for spellwork than tea." His cabinets have everything from ginger root to belladonna right now.
"That's fine. Should I let you get back to your dog?"
no subject
"Our family was never a herb family. Too hippie and all that. Like magic needs any flourish. That was my mother. Do you need me to leave?" She grins. "More people visiting from the water?"