none of my pain and woe can show through (July Catch All)

[theydrewfirstblood]

Who: John Rambo (theydrewfirstblood) & YOU! (Mostly. Couple closed starters below.)
What: July catch all for Da Hollow's Favorite Commando(TM)
When: Throughout July
Where: Baker Ranch, Temple of the Sacred Roots, Forest--all around, really
Warning(s): canon typical nonsense: war, violence, PTSD, police brutality, will continue to warn in comment subjects as I go, with extra warnings for coping with mental illness (PTSD, anxiety, depression), nothing graphic or disturbing but I know if I'm going through it, reading about it doesn't always help so take your measure and know ILU.




but my dreams, they aren't as empty (Ranch, ota)

After what happened among the cultists, learning about this eldritch bullshit...dying, coming back...

The tiny gold leaf he was clutching when he came back to himself remains in his pocket at first. He's got plans for it, and they all involve keeping the fucking thing on him at all times. He doesn't want to lose it, doesn't want to leave it laying around...doesn't want to be this irrational and paranoid about potentially letting one of the boys find it around the house.

That whole deal, the whole mess...John doesn't want it to touch them, even incidentally. He hasn't really talked about it with them, save to say that he wasn't in any shape to discuss it yet, and he's not.

But throughout the next few weeks, John can easily be found at the ranch, either by those on business or those with an open invite--or hell, those who get lost in the woods and end up on the new boundary of his property watching rabbits and hares roam free behind the specially constructed fencing. He's working hard...not to forget, but to cope with what happened.

He's also just plain working, because he wants to add a couple bedrooms to the house. Just in case.

If something else happens, if he needs to know his people are safe...he could use the extra room.

as my conscience seems to be (closed to Sigma)

Within a week of returning from...the bullshit...John's thinking of the others a lot. The ones that were there with him, the ones who had his back, the ones he was most fearful for.

He thinks of Sigma a lot. Guy's unstable, like John after a fashion, but there's something about him that reminds him so much of the colonel it hurts. It doesn't make him homesick, but gives him some of the same strange comfort he finds when he's spending time with Alex.

So he ends up dropping a note in the mail for Sigma--i just has his name, his phone number, and the offer use it if you ever need to or want to.

He also includes a date, time, and an offer to open a tab at the Oak & Iron if he's up for it.

Which is where John can be found, within about a week of the end of the cultist outing. He's at a table near the back, sewing--not fabric and thread, but leatherwork: a small pouch for the leaf that he can thread onto the cord that holds Serranai's bead.

Of course, he has no food or drink, despite Tasha's puppy dog eyes, but as he glances up again to see if Sigma's entered yet, her tiny blonde figure appears with a basket in hand, packed high with everything she could possibly hope for him to put away in a fucking week much less a night's dinner.

"I do eat, y'know." he reminds her.

"Of course, but this makes sure you eat well. Now hush, there's berries in there for Coco."

The aforementioned chicken peeks her head over the edge of the table, forcing John to grin as he sets his leatherwork aside to find Co's treat in the basket.

i have hours, only lonely (Temple, ota)

Thus far, John's communion with the goddesses has been private...but the more he learns, the more he finds himself turning to them, the more curious he gets.

So...he goes to the temple. Not a lot, but he attends a couple services, and a couple times he just goes to sit or to pray. It's nice, to sort of...do it right? Maybe. It does help, a tiny bit, to feel more like Serranai hears him when he talks to her, and if someone wants to join him in prayer or say hello after a service? He's not only open, but in a better mood for being there.

He still prefers the temple of his own making, though.

my love is vengeance that's never free (Forest/Wildcard, ota)

John does precisely that: visits his own temples to not merely pray, but reach out. He occasionally goes to the beach to give offerings to Kora: little driftwood tokens he's whittled into fish, coins, and bottles he's filled with broken shells and sea glass he collects from the sand. He'll walk along the water, toss them into the waves with a few words to her...

...and he makes his monthly pilgrimage to the depths of the forest for Serranai. He gives her his offerings, he takes his meal under the tree he thinks of hers--and he spends more than a couple of hours there, trying to draw comfort from her presence. It's probably in his head, but he feels her more strongly here. Maybe it's the memory of her, but he swears that the forest is more alive here, the animals a little tamer--the odd flower a little more colorful.

The place isn't hidden--at least not by John. Find him here, deep in meditation, walking to or from this place with an empty basket in tow and a homemade longbow slung over his shoulder--or anywhere else, doing anything else. The sky's the limit.

((and if you need a personalized starter, PM the journal or hit me up on discord--the server proper, or privately at madwomanwithabox. :D))

Comments

[spaghettification]

Siebren shows up a little later than the time suggested. he wasn't sure he was going to come, nervous after the whole cult thing and nervous after having been seen as Sigma for a night. But he arrives, still doing the whole floating-instead-of-walking thing, barefoot and six inches off the ground as he makes his way to John's table.

"I'm guessing you don't prefer 'Raven' in everyday life?" The question is gentle, as the scientist considers the situation nervously.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John is finishing a stubborn stitch when he hears his voice and lifts his head. He's--startled, for a second, watching the guy float, but he smiles quickly and gestures to the chair across from him.

"It's John Rambo." he assures him.

Co's head appears again, with the softest cluck ever heard to simply make her presence known. John looks more visibly startled by her demeanor than he does by Sigma's barefoot floating, then regards him with new interest.

"I think you're the first person she's ever met she didn't immediately assault for pets and praise." he laughs.

Buk? Buk buk. BukBUKbuk.

Co's neck cranes a little higher from her chair, bright dark eyes fixed on Sigma with a delicate flutter of her wings.

Oh, she's still demanding her due, but this impossibly perceptive chicken is taking special care with another nervous soldier.

[spaghettification]

"Dr. Siebren de Kuiper, then." He holds out his hand to John for a shake, before turning his attention to the chicken.

"I've never pet a chicken before. I might not do it right."

They ruined a perfectly good scientist--look at him, he has anxiety.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John accepts the handshake warmly, and gets his hip pecked for his trouble because Co Requires Adoration.

"You prefer your title, or is Siebren okay?" He asks, releasing his hand to reach for Co and set her on the table. It earns him a warning look from Tasha across the room, but he waves her off--Co's actually really good about not scratching up the tables.

"It's real easy." John demonstrates, using his index finger to scritch the top of her head. Co blinks slowly in visible bliss.

"And if that still worries you..."

John just raises his hand, palm down, about level with Co's head. She gently sets her open beak against his fingers, then draws back so she can duck and press her head into his palm with the same expression of pure contentment.

"Yeah, you're the prettiest girl." John assures her. "We all know it."

Buk! Co agrees cheerfully, settling herself to nest happily on the table's surface.

Temple

[graveling]

Angel's doing the whole "I'm a real priest" thing on his own this month. The services he leads are not the smoothest; it's clear his confidence is still not completely stable. But he's dressed in a proper robe and stole and doing everything he can to handle the situation.

When he sees John as the service ends, there's a sheepish little smile and a small 'can I come sit by you?' gesture. Like, if the guy needs time to commune with the goddesses, he's not going to impose. But...

[theydrewfirstblood]

John is a little nervous himself, absently toying with Serranai's bead as the service ends when movement catches his eye...

The moment he sees Angel, some of that nervous energy vanishes and he smiles, beckoning him over. When he reaches John's side, his gaze is assessing but warm as it moves over Angel to take him in properly.

"Looks good on you." he observes. "You did great with the service, too--far as I can tell, I mean. This, uh...this is sorta my first time."

[graveling]

"You're welcome to keep coming. Or, if the services are a bit much, just stop by and light a candle or some incense." Angel sits down beside Rambo, not really looking at him. It's not a pointed thing, it's just that after being started at for a while by everyone, eye contact is really hard.

[theydrewfirstblood]

Fortunately eye contact isn’t something John will judge anyone for—or even really pay attention to given that he has issues of his own with it. An effort to be non threatening, trying not to be seen, keeping himself safe—keeping others safe from him.

So while Angel isn’t looking at him, John is looking at Angel—then his hands for a few moments…then idly around the temple.

“I, uh—I’m not sure yet. What I prefer…what I want.” He admits with a shrug and a small smile. “Just had some stuff happen a little while back, and…Serranai came to me.”

Just saying her name makes him grin outright, soft and unashamedly filled with affection.

“I just—I feel like I wanna be close to her, y’know?”

Forest

[thaumatophage]

Kitty's taken to walking to try and clear her head. Just walking, not with any particularly clear goal, and letting her feet take her where they may. Today, she's headed to the forest. She's always liked forests and trees, as long as she can remember...which isn't very long, and may not even be something she decided for herself. But she doesn't want to think about that. She doesn't want to think about the cult or the killing or the...

...she sees a man sitting under a tree, and recognizes him. He was at the thing. He'd introduced himself as 'Raven', a name that was probably as authentic as the one Kitty had given (truthful, in a manner of speaking).

Not wanting to interrupt him in his meditation, she walks as quietly as she can and sits under a nearby tree, closing her own eyes. Blood and death flash behind her eyelids, and she sighs a little, opening them and leaning her head back to see the dappled light dancing through the leaves. The gentle sway of the branches is calming, just a little. Maybe this guy has the right idea.

[theydrewfirstblood]

“…there’s enough for two.”

The relative quiet of the forest allows his voice to carry without raising it beyond his usual soft spoken tones. Lifting his head to face the young woman he remembers seeing that night, he reaches into the basket of food he brought to rummage for a second before producing a small tin of candied violets.

He keeps some on hand for his monthly pilgrimage—like the ones he ate in her presence that first time.

It also feels safe, with another person around, to pluck one out as he opens the tin and pop it in his mouth, the memories the sweetness on his tongue bring pushing back the fear as he crunches the sugar and beckons the girl over.

“C’mere, have one—I know, eating flowers, not the norm, but these are really good.”

[thaumatophage]

Kitty starts a little when she's addressed. She hadn't thought she'd been noticed or disturbed the guy from his meditation. She rolls to her feet. "Sorry," she says, a little sheepishly. "I didn't mean to, uh, distract you."

But - and that's a very large point in favor of continuing to stick around - he's got food, and he's offering her some. The teenager approaches, sits down across from him, and gingerly takes the candied violet from him.

"Thanks," she says, and eats it. It's nice - the violet tastes unusual but not bad, and it's like smelling a flower but more so. With sugar.

"You were at the thing, too." It's not a question.

[theydrewfirstblood]

“You’re not bothering me—promise.” He assures her as she joins him. “I came to sort of, uh…pray, I guess? But having company come along to join me feels like kind of a sign that I been heard.”

He thinks maybe Serranai would like the idea of it. John sharing a quiet moment like this with another person who needs it.

Her observation is met with a nod as he extends his hand to her.

“I was, yeah. I remember seeing you—John Rambo. Raven was my call sign during the war.”

Ranch

[saintoflangley]

John had been one of the people who'd taken the bait and followed the letter's instructions, and he'd paid in blood for it. There's a guilt gnawing at Alex when he finds out what happened to everyone who went (who was he to have survived, who was he to have decided his life was more important), so when people start to come back, he hightails it to the ranch, intending to talk to John about just what the hell happened.

And to check on him. It can't have been easy, going through that, especially for a fellow vet. He limps up to the house, Koshka the Sprigatito at his heels, and knocks on the door.

[theydrewfirstblood]

While there’s no answer at the door, John hears the knock from his place around the side of the house, where he’s dismantling the last of the makeshift rabbit hutches he had set up for the wild ones now living free range at the back of the property.

Setting down the board he’s just finished removing, he tosses his tools back in the box with a silent apology to Radar’s organizational work and circles around.

The moment he sees Alex, he feels something cold in his gut melt away into warm relief. He hadn’t seen Alex among the robes and masks, but he’s still been carrying that nervous paranoia, what if he missed him, what if he’s been hurt otherwise, what if he’s left like Ari…

“Sight for sore eyes, Conklin!” He calls out as he circles the house, tugging a rag out of the pocket of his jeans to wipe his hands before he reaches Alex on the stoop and offers him a handshake. “Good to see you, seriously.”

[saintoflangley]

When John comes around the side of the house, Alex sighs a little in relief. He had been worried; even knowing people came back, here, that didn't erase the concern.

"Good to see you, too, John," Alex says, clasping his hand warmly. "I was concerned about you. Don't tell anyone - it'll ruin my ice-cold image."

Koshka, twigging to how much her person likes this guy, rubs against John's leg, purring.

[theydrewfirstblood]

“Your secret dies with me.” John assures him, good naturedly deadpan while he crouches to pet the green cat nuzzling his legs.

“Hey, cutie. Lookin’ out for this bitter old man?” He croons gently, rolling a humorous look up at Alex. “Or you lookin’ for a bitter old man who’s uglier ‘n needs more love like me?”

He gets to pet her for about thirty more seconds before she returns to winding around Alex’s legs—just on time for Co to trot into view and race up to peck at John’s ankles possessively.

“Yeah, yeah—all I’m good for is chicken feed.” He laughs, petting Co before straightening with the decency to look sheepish. “So, uh—you hear to tear me a new one for gettin’ killed?”

Ranch

[ss_buttcrack]

Crichton was there that night, too. He saw how John fought; it was impressive. Crichton didn't know the man by name so he had to ask around. People pointed him in this direction.

"Mornin'!" Crichton shouts from the fence line. "Got a minute to talk?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

John is working with his new mare, Helga, when the guy walks up to the fence line. He’s got her doing pretty well with the saddle, and decides to keep her going a few minutes longer by urging her to walk over to their visitor.

As he draws closer, he recognizes his face. Doesn’t have a name, but he was there among the others when they all got into that room…

Dismounting a couple feet away, he leads Helga, a dappled gray mare that resembles a Mustang—but who knows in a world where eldritch gods are real—over to the man with the too bright blue eyes with a curious smile.

“Yeah, I got some time—Helga here could stand to stay in her tack a little longer.” He replies, offering his hand. “John Rambo…I recognize you—you were there with the rest of us that night.”

[ss_buttcrack]

"Thanks." Crichton leans in to take his hand and shake it firmly. "Commander John Crichton. Just call me Crichton." Can't have two Johns here that might get confusing.

"Yeah. I was. Nasty stuff. I saw you try to take down the big guy. Reminded me of a friend of mine. Very... warrior-like."

Forest

[hereticofthewilds]

Elsie has watched him perform his rituals month after month, but always at a distance. She has no quarrel with the goddesses, but she has no allegiance to them, either. It felt wrong to intrude.

But these days, she grows lonely easier than before. She has met so many new faces with spectacular stories to tell from their own worlds. It's harder to only watch when she wants to join.

Today, she gives in to the urge by materializing above him in the tree, one bare foot dangling down and swinging anxiously as she says, very softly, "Hello."

[theydrewfirstblood]

John is just about to start his little, ritualized picnic when the voice touches his hears. Looking up, he blanches just slightly at the toes just a few feet above him, dangling off of what he assumes is a young woman from the quiet voice that came from overhead.

"...hi."

It's not every day he meets someone that's got Special Forces stealth down to a science like that...and he knows enough to realize that a barefoot girl in the woods can be as dangerous as anyone in his old squad.

But he's still breathing, so? He's taking it as a good sign.

"You, uh...you hungry?" he offers after a beat. "I make pretty good sandwiches, least that's what I been told. Got some sweets, too--ever had candied violets?"

[hereticofthewilds]

"Sorry. I scared you. Didn't mean it."

Elsie pulls her foot back and folds herself down over the tree limb like a pretzel to put her face closer to him instead. (What is she made of, rubber bands?)

"Never had, no. May I? Can trade for it. Fair trade." Like Ari taught her.

forest

[incomingchoppers]

To his credit, Radar has been more careful about going into the woods willy-nilly since Dolly rescued him the one time! And, okay, since a couple other people around town have had to yank him out of danger, too. It took a month or so, but he's finally calibrated his head from I'm not in Korea anymore! I can go wherever I want!! to look, you gotta think about it like there's snipers around here sometimes, too; snipers that'll bite your nose off if you get too close.

So today, he's made a point of skirting the forest's edge instead of walking straight through it from point A to point B. The route crosses over a narrow deer trail that leads deeper into the trees. As soon as he steps onto the packed dirt, Radar stops. Cocks his head. Listens.

And starts to grin as he breaks into a jog to catch up with the person he hears walking along the path.

Which is how John gets one of his ranch kids bounding up behind him from out of nowhere, calling happily, "Hey Mr. Rambo!"

[theydrewfirstblood]

It's only John's training that keeps Radar from scaring the living daylights out of him--the prickle of awareness creeping up the back of his neck, the keen ear catching a footfall with a ready hand on his bow--and looking before drawing, catching the glint of sun off Radar's glasses before he can do anything he might regret.

So it is that John meets Radar's sudden appearance with a broad, easy smile and an outstretched arm to pat him on the shoulder--or, if he's the type, take a quick hug.

"We're family, drop the 'mister' or I'll call you Mr. O'Reilly." John teases gently as he draws back. "What're you doin' out here? You eaten yet?"

He's on his way to make his offering to Serranai...and if there's anyone John feels he can share this with, it's his boys.

[incomingchoppers]

He wrinkles his nose as he leans into the hug -- as far as folks like John are concerned, he's definitely the type -- but he looks more amused than truly put-out. "Okay, sir."

Radar delivers that with such precise, straight-faced sincerity that it loops around into teasing John right back. But within seconds, he's not faking the earnestness anymore. There's food on the line! He would never joke about food!

"I was just walking. But I haven't eaten in hours." (Two. Two hours, to be exact.) "You having a picnic all the way out here?"