you may be a natural | bonfire, wt

[ophelia.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 65%; line-height:120%; text-align: justify;font-family: verdana;"]Bonfires. Her weekly task was to create a bonfire, with help from Leroy. Ophelia had to admit that she'd never made one, nor been to one. The task couldn't be too difficult, though, and she was sure she'd have fun. Leroy was someone she liked to talk to, which certainly helped make her a little less worried about the whole thing. It would be easy for her to get the practical things out of the way, and she'd make sure to do most of the labor so he wouldn't upset his injuries.

Of course, she figured it would be better not to say that she was doing most of the manual labor so he wouldn't have to. She'd found that pride was a thing that ran strong here, and she didn't want to impede on his. She only wanted to make sure he was safe, and the best way to go about doing that was to do it subtly and without telling him it was what she was doing.

So, early that morning she got to work on her contributions to the bonfire, gathering sticks, branches, and logs in a large pile. There was a lot of flight involved, going back and forth to collect all she needed. It was actually a little difficult to build something so large without it falling over. It was also difficult to make sure the wood wasn't too wet because of the damp, humid air and environment, but she made it work. By the time it was done, she felt a certain heaviness in the muscles of her wings and paws, but it was well worth it to see the pile she'd created. It needed only be lit.

Landing down lightly beside the pile, she breathed out a deep breath of air, moving her eyes away from her task to see how Leroy was doing with the more party-themed part of this task. She held up a couple of rocks in one of her paws, intending to let him do the honors of lighting the fire. "Are you ready to begin?"

[toboggan]

Leroy presumed that Malphas’ specific ruling on food was solely whimsical; it wouldn’t be great if people snapped their caps and busted his chops two weeks consecutively. While Ophelia transported all the wood towards the site of the inferno, bless her soul, he was charged with fashioning together the festivity side of things. The mutt understood that his role was based upon the injury he sustained, no matter how delicate Ophelia was about it. It bothered him none. In fact, he had much preferred constructing food tables, fputting out blankets, setting up chairs, and placing decorations, despite it giving him the appearance of pushover.

The blankets were old and singed, and some of the chairs must’ve been munched on by a termite or three, but as long as people got buzzed from the alcohol present, it’d be fine. You don’t have a very large selection in these parts. Games like spin the bottle were initially thought of, though that would be too much. This was a social event, others were to choose to do what they pleased, whether it was get drunk, mingle, tell stories, or whatever.

Leroy was quite content that Ophelia was his partner in all this. They understood one another, regardless of differences the two had in personality and ambition. He was fond of her company, as the feline was one of the few not quick to put him down as a buffoon, which was uncommon in Tanglewood, where negative personalities were prospered with positive ones shunned. That’s not to say Leroy wasn’t negative himself, of course, it was just nice to experience something different.

His ears rose as the words of Ophelia arrived, rotating his noggin to face his good acquaintance. A devilish grin sprouted from his crop as he was given the offer of starting the flame.  "I’m pretty ready, I’d say," he hummed before acquiring the stones. It took a few tries, but in no time some sparks erupted onto the heap of branches, giving forth the animated warmth that was flame.

”Thanks,” Leroy praised rarely, ”Thanks for doin’ all the work while I put up crisps and beer.”

[ophelia.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 65%; line-height:120%; text-align: justify;font-family: verdana;"]Ophelia offered a small grin as Leroy lit the flames of their little bonfire, alighting the otherwise quiet night with the sound of crackling flames. The warmth was immediate, but not overwhelming, and she stepped forward to push some kindling around to make sure the fire grew larger and larger. It was fairly quick work, but she'd be keeping an eye on it to make sure it stayed sizable enough to attract attention to their little party.

"You made this into a gathering instead of just a big fire. I definitely didn't do all of the work, so thank you for your contributions. They were just as important, if not even more important, than me lugging around piles of wood." she said, eyes crinkling up just a bit at the edges, a rare softness to her tone.

Her eyes moved around the area, scoping out the things that he'd set out. It definitely looked a lot more like something social than she'd probably be able to set up on her own. She still wasn't exactly sure about things that others tended to enjoy in their free time, always caught up in her head with the things she liked. She seemed to lack common interest with many others, most of them craving things that were fun over things that were practical. She wondered if she'd ever really get it, and somehow doubted it. Oh, well. It wasn't as if she were missing out on much. It seemed she were making friends either way.

Turning her head toward the dog at her side, she paused for a small moment before letting another smile through. She lightly placed her paw against Leroy's shoulder, careful not to upset his injuries, before moving it away from him and motioning to their surroundings. "Go enjoy the festivities, and get others involved. Don't worry about managing everything. I'll make sure the flame stays alight. I've never been much for partying, but... Somehow, I get the impression you'd enjoy it."

[Morgan]

Morgan's fluffy shadow announced his presence before he stepped forward into the light. "This feels really nice," he whispered as he inched closer to the flames. Fire was always something that interested the canine; he felt a sort of life within it not unlike the ice he wielded. Turning away from the mesmerizing display, he approached Leroy and Ophelia. "This is impressive, you two. I hope this didn't take too much time to get ready." He headed over to the drinks, but turned and smiled with his teeth. "Oh, and I'm sorry I'm late..."

After enough bad secondhand experiences with liquor, the cream-colored dog chose not to drink any if he could help it. He picked up a small plastic cup and filled it with water from one of his bracers, then returned to the pair. "So, how've the changes been treating you both?" He took a sip of his drink and asked Leroy, "And how's your wound been? Hope that heals soon." The incident with the alligator could only be described as a bit of a fiasco, and the samoyed felt quite guilty since he hadn't arrived to help sooner. The wellbeing of his fellow Tanglers was still a priority even if it meant he had to ask his rather blunt question.

[venus]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 550px; min-height: 9px; font-family: arial; line-height: 109%; text-align: left; color: black; padding: 20px;font-size: 12px;"]drawn to the warmth and comforting scents of alluring foods, venus encroached upon the scene like a rat lured by the promise of trash. azure hues raked across the neat displays of various snacks and alcoholic drinks that venus only had vague interest in. might as well warm up to those who were their new clanmates.

drawing closer, sneaking in a sly marshmellow into the pouches of their cheek, venus began idly chewing away as the feline finally felt the impact of the weight of the situation. venus wasn't exactly in the same age range as most present - they were all much older. come to think of it, venus hadn't met a single tangler similar in age to the adolescent yet. when did tanglewood get so old? tanglewood was always a name best suited for an aged care facility anyways. "cool uh, party yeah?" sidling up towards the older hosts, venus gave a polite forced smile of gratitude for the efforts made by orphelia and leroy - the silver-hued angora at least gracious for the food. "i'll just take some drinks for my leg yeah?" cheekily announcing their intentions the feline was excited to see whether the adults were 'cool mums' or not. at least old people were fun.

[VIGENERE CIPHER.]

[ophelia.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 65%; line-height:120%; text-align: justify;font-family: verdana;"]As Morgan arrived, Ophelia offered him a soft smile, the flames flickering at her side a constant but not uncomfortable warmth. "There's no need to thank me. Nothing is too much trouble, in my opinion. It was actually quite a nice day to be doing this. You're not late at all. The festivities have only just begun, and you're certainly welcome to indulge in them." she said, eyes crinkling up a bit at the edges. The softness of her surroundings and the nice day was enough to put her in very good humor, it seemed.

"As for the changes, I find them to be pleasant. I wasn't here for very long before everything started happening, but I can't imagine that anything you're doing is a downgrade. I think they're a pretty major upgrade, considering the state our surroundings were in before we began renovating them. Again, I was an outsider coming into this, though." she said, giving a small shrug of her shoulders.

Her eyes flicked toward Venus then, happy to see them up and about. At the mention of drinks, her gaze sharpened just a bit. "I do hope you mean something non-alcoholic. You're far too young for anything else." If she were in a more foul mood, she might tsk at the younger feline, but, for now, they escaped that, only getting a disappointed look. "If your injuries are affecting you enough to think about drinking, you can fetch something from the medics. I can even go get it for you, if you wish. I'm sure they'll be willing to provide relief."

Vigenere spoke then, momentarily distracting her again. The stern look was replaced with a polite smile of greeting. "I'm sure there are some somewhere. Leroy..?" She glanced over to the canine, hoping he had the real answer.

[toboggan]

Sore shoulders rose in a convivial shrug as Ophelia reassured him with the nectarous words of hers. She encouraged that piecing together furniture alongside decorations was at just as much value of her duties, if not worth more. And maybe she was right. The mutt was more of a pessimist than anything else, though through affiliation with the feline, he was becoming to feel more whole as a being. That’s what he liked about the little friendship he had with her.

Soon, other faces came into existence, the first being Morgan. The pooch’s deeds were slowly but surely molding Tanglewood into a much more liveable dwelling. The shore and junkyard definitely needed that doing-away-with, whereas the lumber work betokened that expansion to the territory wasn’t too unlikely in the future. Leroy liked it. His leadership forged a new era of history for the group, and it also gave people actual work to do with the cleanups, unlike before. When the fluffy tail-wagger mentioned his injury, embarrassment grew up in that throat of his. Only a fool like himself had the potential to get wounded by a gator that easily.  "’S been well," the rough tone he possessed notified, ”Jus’ gotta wait five more weeks, an’ I can walk like th’ rest of yas”. Five more weeks. Ugh.

For the rest of the chitchat, he let Ophelia do the speaking. It was an activity she certainly loved to do, judging by the sheer amount of sentences she could fit into thirty seconds. The array of colour their creation had to offer absorbed him for the time being, its warmth bidding a fervency of comfort that couldn’t be found in the arid puff that was the boiling summer. The mongrel remained in this state until his attention was caught by Ophelia, who required him in an inquiry about s’mores.

”Ahhh-I’m sure I left out some ‘mallows, chocolate n’ crackers ‘round here somewhere, probably on that table with all th’ other foods. Th’ problem is I didn’t make ‘em. Morgan, you wanna help him with that?”, he’d ask, seeing it as an activity for those two to do together. Unless the pup didn’t know how to (which would be blasphemous), it would be a fun, innocent way for him to interact with his Vigenere.

[Morgan]

Morgan let what little guard he had down as he felt his favorite feline push up against him. He let out a quiet, brief "Mmm," finding himself wagging his tail as his attention was split. "S'mores," he whispered, remembering the Fenrisulfr-cooked treats. He couldn't have the full thing before since chocolate was toxic to him, but even marshmallows and graham crackers alone worked surprisingly well.

Ophelia's opinion caused the samoyed to sigh, relieved. "I'm glad. I want the best for Tanglewood, of course." Leroy's comment provided some hope as well; even if it was a whole five weeks, at least recovery was certain. "I'm sure those five weeks'll go by quickly enough."

The suggestion to make s'mores with his boyfriend was brilliant to Morgan, who trotted over to the table once again. "Come on, Vigenere, let's make s'mores!" It took a few seconds for him to locate the ingredients, which were all scattered in bags around the table. He used a bit of water to soak into some crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate, then levitated them together. "Can you make one for me, please? This one here's for you, my Vigenere."

The dog headed toward the bonfire next, holding the s'more close to the beautiful flames. He could feel the water begin to evaporate, so he took some deep breaths to focus and keep it cold. Next, as if Morgan had commanded it, a small bit of the fire suddenly licked the floating s'more, roasting it to exactly how he wanted it. "Ah... this looks good." He drew the water out of the ingredients and took the finished piece of food into his mouth, holding it tight with his teeth but being careful not to bite into it. "W'nt a sh'morre, Vee-g'nere?" With a joyous expression, he brought the treat away from the fire and over to the Captain.