![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Mr B...sitting in a tree. A short, nonsensical fanfic
January 21st, 2024
(Optional but reccomended "set-the-mood music"-Blood Upon the Snow-Hozier & Bear McCreary )
*Massive flakes violently whip and dance in the night sky; the wall of falling snow creating a cone of silence between not too distant city streets and the overgrowth of pine and spruce. The only unatural light visible in the area is by the locked service gate. One set of tire tracks, a few hours old leading up to the gate, then back away, clearly park security to check the lock. Beyond the gate the path leads into darkness, with the sky offering no lillumination to speak of this evening.*
*Walking down the dark service road, one might catch a faint hint of glowing red eyes from the treetops. Tucked in the boughs of a massive blue spruce, sits Mr B. No top hat this evening, but a practical hooded jacket, which is covered in about 2 inches of snow, indicating he hasn't moved from this spot since the storm started. He sits peacefully, waiting for the others. Brunhilde is a couple branches over, curled up in a burgundy scarf B had made for her, sleeping quietly. An old army surplus backpack is hanging on the branch below him.*
*He is enjoying the silence that the trees and the storm blessed this evening with. His beast is far quieter in nature, not being agitated by the lights and chatter of the city and the snowfall drowns out any lingering echos or evidence. There is a certain bliss in his expression. He is at home here; and despite the concern and caution that a recent discovery hath borne, he knows that this is his place of power. Even though there are things in the wilds more formidable than himself; he is his best self here...and if that is not enough, this evening....he has backup. Guests. He smiles at the prospect of visitors. He gets so few out here.*
*His attention turns to a white birch about 40 ft away, sickly and slightly creaking in the wind. With bark near the base that was stripped no doubt to start a campfire it's clear that this will be it's last winter. Truly a miracle that this forest has survived this close to so much pollution and general neglect from humans. How quickly they destroy what sustains them....they. B pauses at the thought. Wasn't so long ago that he was " they ". Now.....a radical shift in perspective.*
*Funny how the promise of immortality does that. He was studying to be a Forest Ranger a few years back; after years of doing things the wrong way he was going to make a legitmate living....and make a positive impact in the world. Help make it a better world for...*
*He halts for a moment, to avoid starting down a painful train of thought, and redirects himself....no, immortality affords the opportunity to fix something a human can only put a bandaid on after centuries of damage. But how? Even now, they say the damage is irreparable. Ice caps. Fault lines. Average Temperatures. Rising sea levels. Natural disasters. Ooh, it's coming for sure. Mother is angry.....and it's not a good idea to piss off mom.....Ugh. Leave it to men to tear down paradise for shiny baubles and bullshit they can't take with them when they die.....but they won't pay for it. Their grandkids will be billed with interest.*
*He looks over at Brunhilde, still sleeping and wrapped up; her tiny amethyst necklace reflecting the glow of his eyes. He smiles and leans back, shifting his thoughts again. At least he can protect his little part of the world. That's why he stayed. Even after being hunted; after the drone took his picture. Most of the time, he feels tolerated by the other kindred at most; which given his history and...well, his demeanor.., is a best-case scenario.....yet, despite his urge to leave and explore beyond this region from which he has never left.....he feels needed here. For now.*
*The faint sound of a siren is heard in the distance before he realizes the snowfall is lightening up. He takes it as a good indication to snap out of it and pulls out a well-worn copy of "The Kyballion " and skims through the pages to try to find where he left off. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Brunhilde stir slightly and he turns his attention to her. She's staring sleepily at B, feathers a bit ruffled. She tilts her head sweetly and says in animal speak "Bald." He chuckles audibly and gently pats her head. "Never gets old." She gently goes back to sleep as B starts to read.*
January 21st, 2024
(Optional but reccomended "set-the-mood music"-Blood Upon the Snow-Hozier & Bear McCreary )
*Massive flakes violently whip and dance in the night sky; the wall of falling snow creating a cone of silence between not too distant city streets and the overgrowth of pine and spruce. The only unatural light visible in the area is by the locked service gate. One set of tire tracks, a few hours old leading up to the gate, then back away, clearly park security to check the lock. Beyond the gate the path leads into darkness, with the sky offering no lillumination to speak of this evening.*
*Walking down the dark service road, one might catch a faint hint of glowing red eyes from the treetops. Tucked in the boughs of a massive blue spruce, sits Mr B. No top hat this evening, but a practical hooded jacket, which is covered in about 2 inches of snow, indicating he hasn't moved from this spot since the storm started. He sits peacefully, waiting for the others. Brunhilde is a couple branches over, curled up in a burgundy scarf B had made for her, sleeping quietly. An old army surplus backpack is hanging on the branch below him.*
*He is enjoying the silence that the trees and the storm blessed this evening with. His beast is far quieter in nature, not being agitated by the lights and chatter of the city and the snowfall drowns out any lingering echos or evidence. There is a certain bliss in his expression. He is at home here; and despite the concern and caution that a recent discovery hath borne, he knows that this is his place of power. Even though there are things in the wilds more formidable than himself; he is his best self here...and if that is not enough, this evening....he has backup. Guests. He smiles at the prospect of visitors. He gets so few out here.*
*His attention turns to a white birch about 40 ft away, sickly and slightly creaking in the wind. With bark near the base that was stripped no doubt to start a campfire it's clear that this will be it's last winter. Truly a miracle that this forest has survived this close to so much pollution and general neglect from humans. How quickly they destroy what sustains them....they. B pauses at the thought. Wasn't so long ago that he was " they ". Now.....a radical shift in perspective.*
*Funny how the promise of immortality does that. He was studying to be a Forest Ranger a few years back; after years of doing things the wrong way he was going to make a legitmate living....and make a positive impact in the world. Help make it a better world for...*
*He halts for a moment, to avoid starting down a painful train of thought, and redirects himself....no, immortality affords the opportunity to fix something a human can only put a bandaid on after centuries of damage. But how? Even now, they say the damage is irreparable. Ice caps. Fault lines. Average Temperatures. Rising sea levels. Natural disasters. Ooh, it's coming for sure. Mother is angry.....and it's not a good idea to piss off mom.....Ugh. Leave it to men to tear down paradise for shiny baubles and bullshit they can't take with them when they die.....but they won't pay for it. Their grandkids will be billed with interest.*
*He looks over at Brunhilde, still sleeping and wrapped up; her tiny amethyst necklace reflecting the glow of his eyes. He smiles and leans back, shifting his thoughts again. At least he can protect his little part of the world. That's why he stayed. Even after being hunted; after the drone took his picture. Most of the time, he feels tolerated by the other kindred at most; which given his history and...well, his demeanor.., is a best-case scenario.....yet, despite his urge to leave and explore beyond this region from which he has never left.....he feels needed here. For now.*
*The faint sound of a siren is heard in the distance before he realizes the snowfall is lightening up. He takes it as a good indication to snap out of it and pulls out a well-worn copy of "The Kyballion " and skims through the pages to try to find where he left off. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Brunhilde stir slightly and he turns his attention to her. She's staring sleepily at B, feathers a bit ruffled. She tilts her head sweetly and says in animal speak "Bald." He chuckles audibly and gently pats her head. "Never gets old." She gently goes back to sleep as B starts to read.*
