(no subject)
It takes Sean a little more than a week and a little more than an afternoon spent knocking back drinks before he finally gets back to work on building a fence for the dog. He'd been making decent progress before the hurricane had seen fit to undo it all, but with everything else that's been dogging him lately, he just hasn't been able to work up the ability to care again until now. Maybe 'care' is the wrong word, though. He just wants a different distraction.
Living so close to the Compound means that it doesn't take him long at all to get himself set up, and the hurricane felled enough small trees that gathering up a few to work with is no huge task. The rest of it is where he expects to work up a sweat, and alright, so maybe getting drunk first wasn't the best of ideas, but he dutifully gets down to work nevertheless, sawing a few of the smaller logs down to size before he splits them.
So what if things are a mess? So what if it feels like the life he's managed for himself is falling apart around him? So what if the next new catastrophe is likely right around the blessed corner? He's got a damn fence to build.
Someone passes by, one of the many cons to living so close to the Compound, and all he can do is steel himself and hope that he doesn't look nearly as out of sorts as he feels. At least Daisy's apparently gone and buggered off, which means there's one less person around to care about seeing him acting so bloody domestic. Small favours, right?
Swearing under his breath, Sean just spares a glance toward the path and keeps working.
[He'll likely try and hide his bad mood, but if you annoy him any, he'll get belligerent in a hurry. All manner of tags welcome, open to new tags right on through the weekend.]
Living so close to the Compound means that it doesn't take him long at all to get himself set up, and the hurricane felled enough small trees that gathering up a few to work with is no huge task. The rest of it is where he expects to work up a sweat, and alright, so maybe getting drunk first wasn't the best of ideas, but he dutifully gets down to work nevertheless, sawing a few of the smaller logs down to size before he splits them.
So what if things are a mess? So what if it feels like the life he's managed for himself is falling apart around him? So what if the next new catastrophe is likely right around the blessed corner? He's got a damn fence to build.
Someone passes by, one of the many cons to living so close to the Compound, and all he can do is steel himself and hope that he doesn't look nearly as out of sorts as he feels. At least Daisy's apparently gone and buggered off, which means there's one less person around to care about seeing him acting so bloody domestic. Small favours, right?
Swearing under his breath, Sean just spares a glance toward the path and keeps working.
[He'll likely try and hide his bad mood, but if you annoy him any, he'll get belligerent in a hurry. All manner of tags welcome, open to new tags right on through the weekend.]