See our world is slowly dying

[libertin]

Who| Courfeyrac & You!
What| Do you wanna build a barricade? Because Courfeyrac does.
Where| The Little Meadow
When| Week 2, after the snow and the tiger attacks are over.
Warnings/Notes| Free for all! You can make your own threads if you like!

The fresh fallen snow gave Courfeyrac a bright idea. Being dressed properly for the weather and able bodied this time around, it occurred to him that he was in a proper condition to build a structure out of snow. Having found shelter in the woods and in various locations until then, he was satisfied with the consistency of the snow to complete the task. He set out for the smaller of the two meadows, and with only his gloved hands as tools, he began to construct a fortress. Of course, the work would be easier had he companions to join in the task…

❖ ❖ ❖

Later in the evening, as the sun begins to set, the snow barricade begins to truly take shape. Large enough to accommodate it's builders, and a few more, it stands proud and serene in the meadow, both beckoning others to investigate and standing as a symbol of Tributes united. Don't fuck with the barricade, or these guys will fuck you up.

Comments

[libertin]

Ah, what a lucky turn for old Courfeyrac. He lets forth a cheeky grin, welcoming Firo into the fold. "Very well, then. I daresay we shall have ourselves a fine place to sleep in tonight. Or, at the very least, we'll have a nice pile of snow to burrow into when the time comes for it. Now, where to begin. Ah, yes, this side right here could use some attention."

[foundafamily]

Firo can't hold back something of a smile himself; at least this guy seems somewhat normal and pleasant, which is more than he'd dare to hope for. He supposes a little craziness is the price for that.

He walks forward, eyes following wherever the man points. "Just to warn you, I haven't done this kinda thing since I was a kid, so... I can't make any promises for quality."

Despite the chill, he rolls up his sleeves, ready to start working.

[libertin]

The Frenchman laughed as he kicked some snow into a pile. “You may have more experience at this than I do, my friend. I cannot recall the last time I deigned play in the snow. It was at least some three hundred years ago, I should think. Or something to that end, I am never quite sure how one calculates the sliding time scales.”

After a moment spent kicking up the snow, he knelt down beside Firo to start working the snow with his hands. “I cannot recall it ever getting this cold in Paris. It certainly never got this cold in the town where I was born."

[foundafamily]

He gathers some of the stirred up snow, packing it together before pressing it to the wall. "Paris, huh? That's pretty far away from where I was." So much so that he wonders if he should even bother asking about the other town; what are the chances the name would mean anything to him?

He casts a sideways glance at the man. "And how old are you?"

Firo's no stranger to long-lived people, but the ones he knows aren't that open about it. And he's never considered calculating his age into the year Panem's in--partly because obviously his time is correct and Panem's is just weird.