to live where one will
Apr. 2nd, 2015 02:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
do_what_thou_wiltIt'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
Date: 2015-04-03 06:11 pm (UTC)"Considerin what I do t'make m'livin, I can understand th'love of keepin yer hands busy," Brigid laughed, "and of course I'll be bringin ye somethin, or ye can stop by m'shop and pick it up if ye'd rather not have visitors. M'mam would always bring fresh brown bread and stew t'new arrivals in th'village, but if I was the one cookin for ye, ye'd definitely not be thankin me for it. More like, ye'd think I was tryin t'get ye t'move."