John J. Rambo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theydrewfirstblood) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2025-02-05 06:42 pm
theydrewfirstblood) wrote in ph_logs2025-02-05 06:42 pm
and i'm ready to suffer, and i'm ready to hope
Who: John Rambo and YOU!
What: Guess who's back? Back again...Rambo's back. Tell a friend. :P
When: a highly nebulous week and a half after Kitty's post because time is soup and I'm stalking that one HARD
Where: All around the Hollow
Warning(s): The usual stuff for John's canon--violence, PTSD, torture, etc., but also a tiny bit of self harmful thinking. It's been three years by his reckoning, and our boy's done a bit of backsliding.
it's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat - Re-Arrival
He never fully forgot.
The memories never felt as tangible as they ought to, but they never fade altogether. He remembers waking up with a face full of feathers or fur, feminine giggling and warm, earnest smiles from a strapping young man. He remembers the touch of lovers, partners, the face of a demon that isn't a demon, one that makes him feel fondness and brings a smile to his face and is interspersed with flashes of white blonde hair and sad, dark eyes.
The one face he never loses, not even a little, is hers. The wild red curls, the antlers, the forest and the sugary taste of violets on his tongue.
It's for her that he gets permission to make an altar from the monks in Thailand, where he still goes every month to pray. It's the pain of longing that drives him into the fights, the homesickness. And he is, he's homesick.
...so of course he nearly drops a wagon wheel on his head.
When he's back in that room, with that white haired woman, he speaks before she can.
"Just send me back. Please...she's the spring. You're the winter. Life and death--of you remaining three, I think my vows to Serranai bind me as much to you as they do to her. You gave me this choice already. Answer hasn't changed."
The moment he's off the ferry, he reaches out to catch the arm of the first person he sees. It's been three years and a world for him--the recognition may not be immediate if he knows them.
"Hey--sorry, I'm sorry, but uh...fuck. How long since the Givingstide where that gingerbread house showed up? How many years?"
looking for heaven - closed to Baker Ranch
It happened again. Longer this time...shit shit shit fucking hell.
John borrows a horse from a local butcher he definitely remembers Co assaulting...
Okay, he stole it. Temporarily, he'll give it back--he needs to get home fast.
"Ed! Kitty! Radar!"
He's calling out in case they're out taking care of things. Because they would, of course they would. Especially Edgar, and Radar, propping up poor Kitty who's probably a mess. God knows why, but she's let him in and he went and left her because he's a fucking asshole.
"Hey! Ed! Radar!"
He slows the horse as he gets closer to the house, starting to worry despite having learned it hasn't been years, he didn't miss anything...
"Kitty?!...Anyone?...Where the fuck's--"
BAKBAKBAKBAKBAKBUKBUKBUKBUKBUKBUKBUKBUK!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK!
John's heart squeezes painfully tight as he hears the familiar squawking--and before he's totally aware of what's going on, he's got an armful of furious chicken, wings flapping as he gathers her against his chest even as she tries to peck him with a strange, slow rhythm, pressing her beak against his neck and face repeatedly in that familiar gesture of comfort: chicken kiss.
"Hey--Co, hey, shhh, I'm here...I'm here, I'm here..."
He's weeping as he says it, burying his face in her feathery neck and shivering as it hits him just how much he missed this.
How much he missed home.
found the devil in me - open
It's maybe his second or third day back when he realizes why he was still getting his ass kicked once a month or so. It wasn't like Trautman said, that he needed to come full circle. It wasn't the soldier that needed the fighting, the bloodshed, the violence...
It was the wolf--and one night as he's considering going to bed, he realizes why he's felt so clear since he got back. He'd forgotten this part.
So, abruptly, at one point during the night, denizens of Baker Ranch will hear the door slam, and fairly soon the white balverine will be found tearing through the woods, hunting and just running full tilt. No humans are harmed, but a lot of animals die.
And, in the morning, many people will find packages on their doorsteps: fresh venison steaks, or stew meat, or even the odd freshly cleaned and plucked pheasant with a simple note that reads compliments of Baker Ranch.
{ooc: Feel free to run into John in the forest, or have received some gift of meat you may want to track him down and thank him for. ;p}
shake it off - wildcard
Choose your own John--I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!
What: Guess who's back? Back again...Rambo's back. Tell a friend. :P
When: a highly nebulous week and a half after Kitty's post because time is soup and I'm stalking that one HARD
Where: All around the Hollow
Warning(s): The usual stuff for John's canon--violence, PTSD, torture, etc., but also a tiny bit of self harmful thinking. It's been three years by his reckoning, and our boy's done a bit of backsliding.
it's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat - Re-Arrival
He never fully forgot.
The memories never felt as tangible as they ought to, but they never fade altogether. He remembers waking up with a face full of feathers or fur, feminine giggling and warm, earnest smiles from a strapping young man. He remembers the touch of lovers, partners, the face of a demon that isn't a demon, one that makes him feel fondness and brings a smile to his face and is interspersed with flashes of white blonde hair and sad, dark eyes.
The one face he never loses, not even a little, is hers. The wild red curls, the antlers, the forest and the sugary taste of violets on his tongue.
It's for her that he gets permission to make an altar from the monks in Thailand, where he still goes every month to pray. It's the pain of longing that drives him into the fights, the homesickness. And he is, he's homesick.
...so of course he nearly drops a wagon wheel on his head.
When he's back in that room, with that white haired woman, he speaks before she can.
"Just send me back. Please...she's the spring. You're the winter. Life and death--of you remaining three, I think my vows to Serranai bind me as much to you as they do to her. You gave me this choice already. Answer hasn't changed."
The moment he's off the ferry, he reaches out to catch the arm of the first person he sees. It's been three years and a world for him--the recognition may not be immediate if he knows them.
"Hey--sorry, I'm sorry, but uh...fuck. How long since the Givingstide where that gingerbread house showed up? How many years?"
looking for heaven - closed to Baker Ranch
It happened again. Longer this time...shit shit shit fucking hell.
John borrows a horse from a local butcher he definitely remembers Co assaulting...
Okay, he stole it. Temporarily, he'll give it back--he needs to get home fast.
"Ed! Kitty! Radar!"
He's calling out in case they're out taking care of things. Because they would, of course they would. Especially Edgar, and Radar, propping up poor Kitty who's probably a mess. God knows why, but she's let him in and he went and left her because he's a fucking asshole.
"Hey! Ed! Radar!"
He slows the horse as he gets closer to the house, starting to worry despite having learned it hasn't been years, he didn't miss anything...
"Kitty?!...Anyone?...Where the fuck's--"
BAKBAKBAKBAKBAKBUKBUKBUKBUKBUKBUKBUKBUK!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK!
John's heart squeezes painfully tight as he hears the familiar squawking--and before he's totally aware of what's going on, he's got an armful of furious chicken, wings flapping as he gathers her against his chest even as she tries to peck him with a strange, slow rhythm, pressing her beak against his neck and face repeatedly in that familiar gesture of comfort: chicken kiss.
"Hey--Co, hey, shhh, I'm here...I'm here, I'm here..."
He's weeping as he says it, burying his face in her feathery neck and shivering as it hits him just how much he missed this.
How much he missed home.
found the devil in me - open
It's maybe his second or third day back when he realizes why he was still getting his ass kicked once a month or so. It wasn't like Trautman said, that he needed to come full circle. It wasn't the soldier that needed the fighting, the bloodshed, the violence...
It was the wolf--and one night as he's considering going to bed, he realizes why he's felt so clear since he got back. He'd forgotten this part.
So, abruptly, at one point during the night, denizens of Baker Ranch will hear the door slam, and fairly soon the white balverine will be found tearing through the woods, hunting and just running full tilt. No humans are harmed, but a lot of animals die.
And, in the morning, many people will find packages on their doorsteps: fresh venison steaks, or stew meat, or even the odd freshly cleaned and plucked pheasant with a simple note that reads compliments of Baker Ranch.
{ooc: Feel free to run into John in the forest, or have received some gift of meat you may want to track him down and thank him for. ;p}
shake it off - wildcard
Choose your own John--I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!
looking for heaven
When she hears a familiar voice calling her name and Co going absolutely bananas, she gets to her feet from where she had been crouched and whirls around, running towards the commotion, her headband jingling.
"Mr. Rambo?!" He'd wanted her to call him John or Rambo but the Mr. slaps on out of...apprehension? Fear that she's wrong?
no subject
He couldn’t get rid of that association. Taking care of the kids, and those damn little bells.
Co pecks at him until he puts her down, like she knows what he’s about to do. Hearing that jingling, and her voice, John runs towards it with his lungs in a vise of raw emotion.
“Kit Kat?!?”
He follows the sound, follows his ears…and without realizing it, follows his nose until she comes into view…
…he’s not even aware of moving until he’s got an armful of teenage girl, spinning around and holding on tight and just fucking drowning in a warm wave of relief and affection that has his eyes streaming again.
“Kitty—fuck, Kitty, missed you…God I fucking missed you…”
no subject
"I was so worried," she says into his shoulder. "Thought you might be gone forever...hoping you'd come back."
She blinks her tears away. "You missed me? I thought...if you go back...that's it. You...you did go back home, right?"
no subject
When she draws back and asks about where he went, he hesitates only a second before nodding. He hasn't really shared a lot of what he and Jon discussed when they put together their theory of what was happening, when John put together his about how they got here...
...but now he has proof, so he gathers her face between his hands, and he nods.
"Yeah, I went home, baby--but I didn't die. Happened to me once before, too. There's this theory I had, and now I know it's true: not all of us die. Lot of us just come from a moment we could have."
He pauses, then looks down at Co and back up at Kitty.
"C'mon--in the house, all of us. We'll sit down and talk about it. You too, Co."
Bukbuk. Buk.
"You been takin' care of Kitty? Not letting her work too hard?"
BukbukbukBUK! Buk BUKBUK! Buk? BUK!
"Thought so. Sorry, Kitty, the chicken ratted you out. You're taking a break, c'mon."
no subject
Nothing could keep me from you, Kit Kat. Not the goddesses, not the universe, not everyone.
She was starting to believe that.
When Co rats her out, she scowls down playfully at the chicken. "Traitor."
no subject
Chicken kiss. Sorry, Big Sister, but Dad would be really mad if she didn't take good care of you. And taking care of you means snitching when you don't listen to her and sleep and eat and stuff why do you think she spends so much time chasing you and pecking your shoes when you work too hard.
"Welcome to my world." John snickers as he leads Kitty inside. When they get into the house, something in his chest loosens, and he can breathe freely. God, the smell of home--fresh greens, recent cooking, the mix of soaps and earth and animal musk and other, indefinable things that punch at the buttons in his head that scream Kitty, Radar, Edgar. Max, Alex, Siebren. People that have been here, that are here...
"I know it hasn't been that long over here...but I been gone three years on my end." he admits softly, pulling Kitty into his arms again for another hug. "Too fucking long without you. All of you."
He pauses, smirking a little as he reaches up to poke her headband, making it jingle.
"Mostly you. And the sleigh bells." he teases gently.