It is only a few paces from the edge of the wilderness to the lake; trees crowd close to the water in every direction. The water at your feet is pristine, shining blue. Gentle ripples ruffle the glossy surface of the water and whisper at the shore. The hump of Katahdin Peak, blue-grey with distance, looms over the trees as they ring the lake. The air smells clean, rich with pine and fish. In the distance you can make out a dock, and other signs of human habitation; but here, only the calls of birds, frogs, and insects disturb the peaceful quiet.
The floor of the treehouse is nestled, carefully placed in the break in between a twin-tree trunk about ten feet off the ground. The panel in the center of the wood paneled floor opens to allow a rope to drop down, to give access to those welcome.
The house itself is sturdily built, mainly of pine panels. One wall is left mostly open, covered in a metal wire mosquito-screen. This makeshift window faces the lake, westward.
By itself, the place is scarcely furnished. A bedroll in the corner carries a work pillow, though a rolled-up sleeping bag is available for others. A clay pot in the opposite corner, by the window, smells of woodsmoke and coal, so it's obviously a firepot. A small frying pan leans against it, the bottom blackened by multiple uses.
You paged the room: 'OOC note! The place looks like it says, =except= it's full of blankets and pillows all over the place that are sort of nesty and comfortable looking, there's a blanket tacked over the screened bit to keep out the cold, and there's a couple bags that presumably hold stuff. Also a teakettle and some other cookery stuff by the firepot. It looks homier.'
Did someone call for 'tall, dark, and handsome'? Well, dark's fairly well covered, at least. Jet-black hair's pulled into a long, loose tail at the nape of his neck, a few stray strands about the face occasionally drifting into his almost equally dark eyes, the irises of which are a brown deep enough that one needs to look closely to find the pupil. Nut-brown skin that sets off the white of his teeth and eyes -- it could just barely be mistaken for a very deep tan, if one really tried. Tall is a miss; he's still several inches off six feet, and he probably won't ever get there. Handsome... well, not a classic beauty, to be sure, but well-proportioned, with a stunning, frequent grin and deeply expressive features. Slim, but in perfectly good shape.
He's clad in... well, black leather pants. Somewhat faded, well broken in, but nicely cut and really =quite= nicely fitted. A simple cream shirt hangs untucked above them, long sleeved and fastened with a row of small, black stone buttons. Over that, he wears a decidedly well-worn old black trenchcoat, almost too big for him -- the cuffs hang down half-over his hands, when he lets them, and the hem hangs perilously close to his heels. Scuffed black leather boots with worn soles adorn his feet; there's a seemingly random collection of bracelets, all on one wrist, and several piercings along the upper section of each ear -- little silver hoops.
Thin and lanky, almost gangly at her modest 5'5", Rahne has an almost childish quality to her form and features. Raggedly cut reddish-blonde hair falls in loose, fluffy curls about an impish face that's drifting into maturity. High cheekbones offset wide, oval eyes of bright, piercing green and a frequent smile that makes her tan face look rebellious.
Arms and legs that seem a little too long for the rest of her body are swathed in old clothes. A pair of faded jeans, the knees long since gone to rags, cover her legs. A thinner pair of leggings shows through underneath in a soft brown. Two sweatshirts cover her torso, one blue, one green, and both faded to near-grey. The collar of an old white t-shirt shows at the neckline. Sneakers patched with duct tape cover her feet, as well as a frequently dingy pair of white socks. Inconsistant with this portrait of growing youth is the large, broad knife resting in a worn, tooled leather sheath at her side. A rope belt, wound tightly about her waist four times, secures sheath and blade to her waist while a smaller leather strap pins the bottom to her right thigh. The leather bears the fading intricacies of celtic knotwork, a composition of light and dark growing dimmer with age.
She's often seen lugging around a somewhat sizeable backpack, the sides of it bulging here and there in possibly strange ways.
It's afternoon -- not bad for an early spring afternoon, at that. There's a light drizzle, but nothing to compare with the flurries from before, and the temperature is downright balmy. The snow -- and lake ice -- are melting, and the barest hints of light green have started to peek throw the melting layers as the hardier plants strive toward the light. Serendipity is on the log again, but seated, this time, feet planted on the log just in front of him and arms wrapped about his knees, staring off into the distance across the lake. His expression is difficult to read, except that he certainly appears to be lost in thought. Today, he isn't humming.
Humming drifts through the trees, growing louder as its source pads down the trail to the lake. With the temperature change, Rahne has eschewed the cloak in favor of her otherwise serviceable clothing. A colorful scarf ties up her hair well enough, though a few curls have valiantly struggled free. A slight slushy sound accompanies her as she walks, keeping a rhythm to the meandering humming from behind her lips. Pausing for a moment, she bends down to brush a few blades of grass beginning to make their appearance and smiles. "Welcome, little green, herald of the larger green." she says contentedly, fingering the pale green strands.
Serendipity is distracted from whatever had held his mind by the humming and sound of speech; he glances over his shoulder toward the source, and half-grins, not his usual sun-from-behind-the-clouds grin but friendly and pleased enough to recognize her nonetheless. "Heya, lovely," he calls quietly in greeting.
Rahne looks up from her admiring of the grass at the greeting, blinking her own green eyes a bit before smiling warmly in return. "Heyla, Ren. Lovely day....isn't it?" she says pleasantly, rising from her stoop to stretch languidly and walk with somewhat quicker steps over to the log.
Serendipity's grin spreads a little, seemingly in spite of himself, and he gestures gallantly to a portion of log beside him, inviting her to sit. "Absolutely," he agrees, "...birds about, I saw a squirrel, green things gettin' green, and we get to appreciate you without that big ol' cloak that was hidin' you last time..." He smiles cheekily, and unfolds a bit, letting his feet slide a bit away.
Rahne colors a little in the cheeks and accepts the spot on the log, folding her own lanky self down onto it with a giggle. "Well, it was warm, and I wasn't goin' to turn down a loan like tha'. I can't wait for more warmth than this, though. All this layerin' is startin' to itch me." she quips, pulling one leg up to her chest and curling an arm around it loosely.
Serendipity reaches over with the closer hand and plucks at the various necks of Rahne's shirts. "Not s'prised," he remarks, pulling them out a bit one at a time and glancing in for the next layer -- or potentially lack thereof -- as he counts. "One, two, what, three layers here? Hell, I'm amazed you haven't melted." He grins at her again, and lets the fabric spring back to its accustomed place, resting his arm on her shoulder as if it were a handy mantelpiece. "What've you been up to, lately? Anythin' new an' excitin'?"
Rahne blows a stray curl out away as it dangles over her eyes and smiles, "You shoulda seen how thin these were for a while, I needed three! As for me...mostly been wandering around, seeing where spring is springin' and seeing all the faces I missed for a while. Lots of new faces...'least to me." She doesn't seem to mind the arm, instead wiping a little of the drizzle's dampness from her face. "How 'bout you, mmm?"
Serendipity catches the curl and winds it gently around his finger, toying with the disobedient ringlet. "Nothin' too exciting. Enjoyin' the weather, doin' some stuff on the Farm, pissin' people off, y'know, the usual," he replies a bit dryly.
Rahne chuckles at that, eyes glittering with amusement, "The usual, eh? Sounds like y'need to be gettin' into something....more unusual. Too much 'usual' and a body gets a boring life." Her gaze flicks briefly to Ren's finger and her smile broadens before she looks back at him in general. "In need of a bit o' fun, mmm?"
Serendipity laughs, and gives the curl a gentle pull, just enough that he can watch it spring back. "Woman after my own heart," he declares, "...knew I liked you. Boredom's 'bout the second worst fate there is -- maybe third. Personally, I'm of the opinion that when things get too slow, it's time t' move on or do somethin' about it. Sometimes both." He twines the curl about his finger again, pressing it gently to her forehead, and then draws the fingertip lightly down from it, along the bridge of her nose, glancing from there to let the curl bounce back up and away, the fingertip brushing against her lips almost accidentally as he pulls his hand casually away. "...and even if it weren't, I'm always up for something fun. Got anything in mind?" he invites.
Rahne's eyes follow Ren's finger slowly, smiling as she listens to him. The light brush makes her blink a bit, and her hold on her one knee tightens slightly, but she continues to smile. If anything, one eyebrow arches lazily as she considers the question for a short time before responding, "Well...you did offer to show me the treehouse once....offer still stand?" She lightly licks her lips and quirks a more playful smile onto her face, the errant curl having sprung back into it's unhindered curl before her eyes.
"Like I said, anytime you like," Ren replies, grinning properly, and unfolds to his feet, stepping in front of Rahne to face her and offer his hands to help her back down off the log. "C'mon, cutie, I'll give you the grand toura my chateau. Amongst its many stylish features, it sports a roof, which does better'n one might think at keepin' the rain off."
Rahne laughs lightly and takes Ren's hands with a firm grip, unscrunching herself and getting to her feet. "Oooh, a roof! Whatever will they think of next, mmm? Lead on, MacDuff! My hair could stand to get out of it's prison for a while, I just don't want a wet head." she says, grinning and taking a moment to dust off her backside a bit.
Serendipity gives a little pull to help the girl down, so that she lands quite close in font of him -- definitely within what most people would consider personal space. He stays there a brief moment, catching her eyes before he lets her go to tend to dusting and takes one half step away, gesturing with both hands to the rope that hangs from the house in the nearby tree. "After you, madame," he invites with cheerful faux-snobbery, and follows along behind.
If the closeness bothers her, Rahne doesn't show it outwardly, instead looking back into Ren's eyes until he moves away. For a change, it isn't her cheeks that turn pink, it's the tips of her ears. Freed to clean herself off, she does so and giggles lightly before turning her attention to the rope and looking up. "Madame, mmm? I'm a little short on the requirements t' be runnin' a brothel, but I 'preciate the sentiment." she says with a wiggle of her eyebrows and a jiggle of her hips, giving a wink over her shoulder before she shimmies up the rope like a squirrel.
[Treehouse]
Rahne quickly moves out of the way once she's inside, standing up and surveying the interior with a half-critical, half-amused air. Apparently it strikes some note of approval, because she's smiling contentedly and tucking her hands into what's left of the pockets on her jeans and humming under her breath by the time Ren appears.
Serendipity follows behind, and closes the hatch behind him, pushing up to his feet and displaying the place with a gesture. "Ta da! Home sweet home. Lemme give you the tour." He places a hand in the small of her back to 'guide' her, and points out the various features, "...gourmet kitchenette, picture window with lovely view of the lake, when the curtain's open, natural heating and cooling, spacious yet cozy sleeping area, and that roof I mentioned before. Squirrels come from miles around t' see this one." He grins broadly, turning to face her again. The hand stays where it is.
Rahne chuckles softly at the 'guiding' hand, taking in all the amenities with a closer view of each and smiling in amusement. When finally she's face to face with Ren again, she gives him a lofty look for a moment, as if looking for something. Whatever that is, it's not clear if she finds it or not, all she does is quirk one corner of her mouth into a smirk. "Quite a nest you have here, Ren. Cert'nly a more comfy tree-home than where I'd been staying. Got that roof thing happenin' and all. Done quite well for yourself." she rambles approvingly, freeing one hand from a pocket and resting it against the arm attached to that guiding hand.
"Oh, I figure I'm doin' a'ight," Ren agrees, and reaches up to tug lightly at the edge of Rahne's scarf. "So where'd you been staying, then? And weren't we planning t' let those curls of yours outta their captivity?"
Freeing her other hand from its pocket-confine, Rahne carefully picks at the scarf until she finds its end and tugs it out. From there, it's short work to unwrap it and shake out curls that are starting to cover her shoulders. "Ahhh, much better. They were startin' to scream for air. Keep them up too long, and these curls start to...wilt. As to your first question, I was staying up in the big Oak out along the road. He's quite a character, if you catch him on a good day."
Serendipity helps to fluff the curls out lightly with his fingers, watching with quiet delight as they bounce as they're moved. Gaze dropping back down (although admittedly, not exactly very far down) to her eyes, he asks cheerfully, "An' if you catch him on a bad day? ...I never ran into a tree that seemed t' care about days one way or the other, myself."
Rahne wrinkles her nose and blows one curl from her eyes, a different one this time. Lifting one shoulder in a faint shrug, she takes on a sly expression and leans in just a little bit to murmur, "He'll smack you with a tree limb. Saw 'im do it once when one of the townsfolk tried to cut him down. Y'don't go cuttin' down a tree what walked into your place o' residence."
Serendipity laughs, studying the girl with curious amusement. "Never met a tree that checked out new neighbourhoods, either," he remarks, and slips his fingertips down from her hair, grazing cheek and jaw to end up softly below her chin. "Maybe you'll hafta introduce me sometime, yeah?"
Whether by conscious thought or not, Rahne leans her head just slightly into the touch that grazes her cheek, eyes never truly leaving Ren's features. Smiling a bit softer, fondly even, she nods gently, bouncing her chin on Ren's fingers, "Indeed. Everyone should meet the Oak at least once in their lifetime. He can tell you all about the trees and their language...like he did me."
"So the trees really =do= whisper t' each other, then?" Ren asks. "I think I like that plan. We'll hafta not forget." He leans in a little, fingers gently tilting Rahne's chin up -- neither that much, really, since he's only a couple inches taller than she -- and kisses her, softly.
Rahne might have been about to say something...but it gets lost in the ether of her conscious mind, gone faster than a rainbow after a spring shower. The words come out as little more than a tiny sound from behind her lips, and both cheeks and ears turn that pleasant shade of red. Eventually, some little thing lights up in her head and she returns the kiss, just as softly.
Serendipity kisses her for quite a few seconds; when he pulls away, he's right up against her, just barely, the hand that was resting at the small of her back now wrapped gently about her waist. He smiles, tilting his head a little. "Mm. Anyone ever tell you you're amazingly kissable?" he inquires, "...I'm bein' a lousy host. I should offer you a seat, and maybe somethin' to drink."
Rahne licks her lips briefly and grins sunnily, "Can I count you in the listing? Not that it's a large listing....but I think you come out on top." Her hand on his arm has a gentle hold, only the softest pressure to let him know it's there. "I'll take a seat all right, but I just had a long, tall drink of somethin' good. If you're offerin', I'd take more of the same...." she says with a playful sauciness.
Serendipity grins back, eyes sparkling mischievously, and draws her along with him to get comfortable in the blankets. "Yeah? You're in luck, then, 'cause as it happens, we just got a whole fresh new shipment in t'day," he replies playfully, "...an' lovely, I'll happily give you just as much's you want."
Rahne wriggles her eyebrows again and happily settles into the blankets with Ren, curling up quite contentedly with him there. "Ahh, such a lovely way to drown..." she murmurs warmly, leaning in so that the words brush across his lips with her breath, followed by a kiss that's all her own.
Serendipity doesn't hesitate in the slightest about returning it, with interest. His arm returns -- or did it even leave? -- to curl about her waist, and his other hand slides along her neck to bury itself in among her hair, cradling the base of her head. His mouth is soft and warm, and he kisses rather well -- practice may not make perfect, but it certainly doesn't =hurt=.