#bonecarvedquiver

[merkissescanhealyou]

The Token

Closed for @bonecarvedquiver 

A soft smile crept upon the mer’s lips as minnows and guppies nipped at his fins. They dangled below at the shallow pool of saltwater, and he sat on the dunes that stretched out over the water. It started to make the shape of a cave, after years of storms and erosion. Like a cliff that was safe enough to jump off of and splash into the wading pool below without breaking a bone. Unlike a certain someone.

He felt a blush rapidly cover his cheeks. Ah yes, the someone that which brought a widened smile to his face. The someone that came into his life and rocked his world. Turned it upside down and inside out. A shiver went up his spine. Rangi.

The sun was starting to set in the distance. The perfect time to catch the rays on the west coast was always at sundown. Warm streaks of color reflected on the water. The sun danced on the surface of the waves. Below, filtered light penetrated the hidden shadows of the ocean. It was a sight only the brave could see. 

Rangi wanted to see him, said he “has something to give him.” Marius was happy enough to just be with him, regardless of a gift. But he agreed to meet with him anyway. Now, he was waiting for him. What was that popular expression? “Butterflies in my stomach?” He felt like the butterflies were fluttering in his gut. His heart was giddy, light and fast. A slight, warm breeze rustled through the grass on the dunes. The reeds tickled his skin as they pecked and poked him. A completely different sensation from sea grass, he noted.

Those butterflies needed to be soothed soon. He couldn’t wait any longer for the sniper. It wasn’t an angry type of impatient. It was more like a can’t-wait-to-see-you-again feeling. He couldn’t wait to see that bright smile, those wild locks, those intense eyes. Perhaps his emotions were beginning to get rowdy. Marius nodded to himself. He took a deep breath, and let those butterflies go. 

[sweetirishmedicine]

@bonecarvedquiver

“Uh…. alright, now. Don’t be makin’ fun of me, but…” Owen looked about, a little confused, as if he wasn’t sure the Medic was speaking to him. “You know, I… don’t really know what that is. A cannoli. Sounds like some sort of cannon ball. I mean, if you’re askin’ me to leave a gun and pick up a cannon ball, it’s going to take some time, but I bet I can find one. And I’m sure I can lift it.”

“I was tryin’ ta be dramatic in a cheesy way, but I admit, I mighta missed th’ mark wit’ no’ leadin’ wit’ th’ cannoli baggy. So much fer soundin’ like a tough in a gangster film. Eh, couldn’ pull it off wit’ me accent anyway.” He chuckled, getting close enough to plop a decently sized brown paper bag on the wide railing of the bridge. This was the place they’d last run into each other too.

“They’re a kinda Italian pastry. Help yerself. Someone on RED got a wee bit too overzealous wit’ makin’ sweets taday, ta th’ point we’re tryin’ ta get BLUs ta take ‘em because e’eryone on our side is sick’ve ‘em. Ya dun’ actually haveta leave yer gun, jus’ dun’ point it at me.”

[sweetirishmedicine]

@bonecarvedquiver replied to your post: “…I am a good doctor, aye?”

“I mean, never met'cha or anythin’, but, can’t say you’re a bad one. Not just by looking at you, I mean. So nah.”

“Oh.. wull.. I ‘ppreciate it?” Liam blinked, clearly taken aback that his offhand musings had been answered by a stranger. 

“Urm... Who’re you?”

[barrelofbullets-blog]

Frozen Outlook

@bonecarvedquiver

Rob rubbed his gloved hands, making sure the thermoses attached to his belt were secure before he started climbing up the steel latter.

It was a dark and snowy night, a few lights around the base glowing like halos in the mist. He was at Coldfront this week, had just gotten in that night, and had noticed on the bulletin that Owen was on lookout tonight. Poor guy.

He’d had some trouble sleeping, too many thoughts buzzing around in his head, so he’d shambled to the mess hall, brewed up some coffee, tea and hot cocoa and bottled them all up, as well as a thermos of tea for himself. Then, bundling up in his puffy coat and warmest hat, he trudged out into the storm, working his way up to the crows nest. 

Despite the cold, overlooking the base from the roof as the snow fell onto the dimly lit paths and buildings was beautiful.

Rubbing his arms, he clambered up to the nest. The base provided a heater so at least Owen wouldn’t freeze to death, but he had a feeling the man wasn’t happy to be there all the same. 

“Don’t let me startle you, comin’ up!” Rob shouted up before he popped his head through the hatch in the floor of the lookout post. “Saw you were on lookout tonight, wanted to see if you wanted some company. Looks like I’m stationed here this week.”

[pushspacetocontinue]

‘You’re like'... some young buck who can run fast, get out of danger, but you're still timid enough and you don't go out of your way to be annoyin', like some other Scouts.

“Ehehe, I guess that’s a nicer way to put than what I usually think of myself, ehe…” he smiles despite the slight blush painting his cheeks, “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.”

[dancing-death]

The snow had let up, slowing to just a light flurry- enough to be picturesque without being a nuisance. Karl gazes out the window, humming slightly to himself. The year was drawing to a close- less than two hours now, and the page would turn, the earth would begin another rotation around the sun. Another chance to do things over. And Karl thought, with a slight smile, that he hadn’t been better equipped to do so in ages. His shoulders felt less burdened. He was surrounded by support and love. From his adopted brothers, yes, but also from Owen. What a difference having one person here made. To everything. Delicately, he sunk his fork into a small slice of cake, putting the smaller portion into his mouth with such meticulous neatness as not to get a single smudge of icing on his lips. It was good. Moist, soft, the icing fluffy, the cake perfectly sweet without being overly so. Truly one of his brother’s masterpieces. He’d have to thank him later. For now though, he was content sitting here with his cake and his tea, watching the snow and waiting for midnight. And, perhaps, a certain someone to kiss as the hour struck. It would be both a perfect seal on the old year and a delicious promise to the new.

[dancing-death]

Sometimes I wish I lived in a snow globe where the wind blows, It’s wonderful And every single time that you shake it you make it so magical...

It was about the third time in a week that the steady snowfall had lured Karl out into it. It had to be the uptick in his mood- the usually austere, icy Medic had been unusually cheerful for the past week or two. He felt so vibrant that even his usual inclination to dance was in overdrive, and he lept and pirouetted through his matches, slaughtering and healing with a hum on his lips.

And then there was the snow dancing. With the setting sun as his backdrop and a lamp post as his spotlight, he twirls among the falling flakes, the little dancer centerpiece of his own personal snowglobe. The source of his joy might be known to his brothers, but little did Karl know that it was currently disembarking a ramshackle old truck, trudging up one of the cleared paths.

He’d been waiting for this moment for months. But he was too engaged in his own wintry ballet that he didn’t realize that it was about to happen right now.