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riverviewlogs2017-03-09 05:59 pm
pundemic) wrote in riverviewlogs2017-03-09 05:59 pm
catch-all;
who: Flint or Ellie (but probably not both) and anyone who cares to join them.
what: general catch-all log for the month of March
where: All around!
warnings: Ellie is a foul-mouthed teen with some trauma she'll never bother talking about but that might come up in introspection, and Flint is a considerably less foul-mouthed carpenter nee pirate captain with the same. Both tend to kill things with impunity, so maybe that? Idk. Will change if anything comes up.
notes: There are a variety of starters under the cut. Feel free to PM if you'd like one specifically tailored to you/your character or any scenario you'd like to run. I have a strong preference for present-tense brackets, but I'll match style if it's an accessibility issue no prob.
what: general catch-all log for the month of March
where: All around!
warnings: Ellie is a foul-mouthed teen with some trauma she'll never bother talking about but that might come up in introspection, and Flint is a considerably less foul-mouthed carpenter nee pirate captain with the same. Both tend to kill things with impunity, so maybe that? Idk. Will change if anything comes up.
notes: There are a variety of starters under the cut. Feel free to PM if you'd like one specifically tailored to you/your character or any scenario you'd like to run. I have a strong preference for present-tense brackets, but I'll match style if it's an accessibility issue no prob.
a; anywhere around Quarantine,
[Ellie definitely has a bag full of assorted types of candy that she is Determined To Try, but also: she pays a lot of attention to her surroundings and the people that occupy your space. You look sad? Lost, out of place, upset or any species of alone? Kid, adult, whatever, doesn't matter. Have some candy.]
Hey. You look like you need this more than I do.
b; anywhere around Quarantine,
[She has definitely found a place that's chill about renting motor scooters to minors (she has a permit now and everything). And that scooter has definitely gotten a flat tire. So now she's sitting on the curb with a mess of tools trying to strong-arm the exhaust off so she can get at the lug-nuts behind them. The new tire is on the sidewalk beside her and she is probably cursing loudly at something. Care to help?]c; (for MCU!Bucky) in the woods somewhere,
[She is terrifically shitty at making her own arrows, but loathe to rely on just bullets. You never know when you'll need something quieter, or that you have a good chance of being able to recover later. So. She's. Experimenting. Out in the middle of nowhere, with a shitty fire, and some shitty sticks, and a variety of shitty arrow heads made from a variety of things she's collected. She is sitting down by a fire trying to figure out how to fletch them properly, and there's definitely a ruined pile of feathers beside her.]
Oh, for fuck's sake!
[Yep, she definitely just split that stick halfway down. There is a moment of vehement frustration, and then she throws the damn thing on the fire. It kicks sparks up into the sky, and she huffs in pure exasperation.
Also: be careful of the half-dozen tripwires she has set up around her perimeter, pal. Smoke-bombs are pretty harmless, but boy do they give away a position.]d; (for DCEU!Clark) Clark's floor and shared quarters,
[Being able to cook, being able to find ingredients that aren't 'whatever you can throw in a pot' is probably the biggest fucking novelty of her life. Cookies. She's gonna do it. She thumbs through recipes on her tablet and eventually decides on gingersnaps. Some trial and error, one burnt batch and another decent one later and she is knocking on his door with a plate of them.]e; (for Prison Break!Michael) sad stairwell shenanigans,
[She doesn't like elevators. Like, call her crazy, but relying on something that's just a series of pulleys and counterweights really isn't her thing, so she sticks to the stairs. It's not like they don't have their own problems (narrow corridors, not a lot of exits, etc) but she's more comfortable in them and tends to take them two at a time on principle.
Today, as she's heading down to the ground level she's stopped short by a guy. He's sitting down at the bottom of the steps that lead out to the second floor landing, facing away from her. There's something about the tension to his posture that makes her think he is probably several shades of not okay and she honestly debates with herself about whether or not she should just quietly edge out the door she came in through.
But. Eventually,]
Hey, pal, you all right?
[Her voice is gentle and soft, but she absolutely has one hand on the gun stuffed into the waistband of her pants. Just in case.]z; forests around Quarantine and near the perimeter fence,
[Monsters pose no especial trouble to him. They are fierce and many, of course, but more predictable by half than any one man he has faced down at the point of a sword. He kills them, and having observed some resort to cannibalism he has taken to burning the bodies afterwards. Thick black smoke roils up from this latest pit, and James stands at the edge of it leaning on a shovel. He is dressed simply in all black, with no particular nod towards any one point in time. He has a modern rifle slung across his back, a modern handgun at his hip and a sword at the one opposite, so really: it's anyone's guess where the fuck he's from.
He can be found either killing monsters, burning them, inspecting various parts along the fence and/or cooking a particularly well-seasoned rabbit on a spit that is, thankfully, roasting over a fire made of wood rather than monsters. Feel free to join him at your leisure, but for the love of God don't sneak up on him.
Welcome in this thread: monster fighting! chats, cr building, disagreements about his Monster Murder, etc, all such things.]y; communal living space floor 1, all comers welcome,
[And speaking of cooking. James is not a chef, nor a particularly charitable man, but he certainly knows how to foster camaraderie and the role in which food features to that end.
So: he's made a meal of glazed salmon, several side-dishes and has left a note out on the counter next to it, help yourselves in a neat, calligraphic scrawl. He can be found sitting on his bed with his back to the wall, reading, at any point thereafter. He keeps a chest at the foot of his bed absolutely laden with books, but he's presently working his way through Don Quixote by Cervantes.]x; down by the river,
[He has claimed to be a carpenter, and to that end he has built several things with his own bare hands for use as a sort of... curriculum vitae, should the need for it arise. Presently, he is working on roughing out a single-log canoe. He's burnt out most of the inside, and is currently shaping the interior with a variety of hand-tools. He works simply, with speed that does not seem to be borne of urgency, and he will likewise seem untroubled should anyone join him there.
He'll give an acknowledging nod to anyone lingering nearby, but because he's a Stubborn Prick will likely not instigate conversation without prompting. Godspeed.]v; (for Eddie Thrawn) cutpurses and piracy and thievery oh my
[Flint is not one for indulgences, but the public festival of Sampremi could potentially yield information beyond what he's culled from his own investigations, and so he goes.
He does not mingle. Mostly, he observes. This place has a dearth of the usual suspects he would expect to find in a crowd. No whores, no cutpurses to speak of, nothing that marks it as a place in which civilization has festered. But then, he has not yet had time to survey the jails, nor the local ordinances to see what the penalties are for failing to abide by the laws of men. Perhaps everyone is simply executed, and that would explain their lack.
He is standing beside a stall, having paid for an apple that he is currently polishing on the shoulder of his shirt when he sees it. A young girl. She is looking for a mark, he can tell by the way she looks so specifically at everyone that passes her, and once she sees someone who fits her criteria, she makes a point of stumbling into them. He watches her hands, and true to form she comes away with the man's wallet and turns to hurry off into the night.
James shrugs - neither his business nor his problem. If you don't keep a hand on your money you deserve its loss. But, as it turns out, he is not the only one to have seen this particular transaction. He was about to turn away when he sees the other man cut across the street to apprehend the girl, and it is then that he decides to drift closer. He does not care for thievery but less for men who set themselves above thieves.]w; sailing the ocean blue,
[He has cleared an area on the ground. There are targets set up for projectile weaponry (ranging from bows to knives to guns) and an arena for physical combat. James will be seated at a table he has obviously built, working on building a star chart of the night sky as people arrive.]
no subject
[But that smile stays on, and she tracks his movement as he starts opening cupboards.]
Is that what people did? Popcorn on movie night?
no subject
[ Isn't that what people do? Go out with their friends, have fun, be normal? Clark wouldn't trade the life he got with his adoptive family.
He used to wonder what that kind of comfortable companionship was like, before he met Ellie. ]
I call dibs on the armchair!
no subject
[She definitely goes out into the living room and tosses herself down on it. She takes her backpack off and sits it down beside her, always close at hand. She's still armed, obviously, with the gun in her waistband and the knife in her pocket, but she's... a little less on edge, maybe, than normal. Than she is outside of his presence.
It's not really that he makes her feel safe. She feels safe with Joel, but she doesn't see Clark as being a fighter in that way. But she feels... like she can have fun around him. Be a kid. As if there's more to life than just surviving everything that gets thrown at you. It means a lot. More than she can articulate.]
What's a drive-in?
no subject
They set up a movie screen outside so you can drive there and watch. The sound gets broadcasted directly through the stereo system in your car.
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You know, I had one of these once? Me and some friends found this old vending machine in the mall, and there was one can that must've gotten stuck in the back. It was probably the worst thing I've ever tasted in my life. Are they supposed to be chewy?
[Oh, it's fine, she absolutely knows the answer to that is no. Honestly, it's a wonder she's not dead. But hey, she'll try anything once (twice) so she pulls the tab open on the can.]
And drive-ins? They sound super awesome. We should see if they do that here. Rent a car or something.
[Just for the experience.]
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[ It has air conditioning and comfortable seats, as well as surround sound. ]
The popcorn's almost done. Here.
[ He hands over the glass, wishing he had a bendy straw. ]
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[But she takes that glass. Seems weird to pour the can into it, but?? Sure?? She guesses??? Of course she's never done this before so her cup ends up looking about ninety percent bubbles and it, quite predictably, overflows while she yelps and tries to drink it before it gets all over the couch.
Carbonation burns a little when you've never had it before. This is truly a comedy of errors.]
Holy shit, why would anyone ever drink this? Oh my fuck I think it went up my nose!
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[ He wiggles his fingers at her for effect. Joking about it too often will make it serious, but it should desensitise her if he ever does explain the whole story.
Clark's comfortable around her, but it's not a habit to joke and be playful. There are very few people he can sustain that with. ]
Ellie! Just put it down, and wait.
[ He has a napkin ready to dive for anything that might drop on her clothes or the couch. ]
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Right. Next thing you'll tell me the popcorn's going to try and kill me too.
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Nah. You think you'd like salted or sweet?
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[She likes sugar, don't get her wrong, but sometimes it's a bit overwhelming.]
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[ The microwave dings. Out he comes with a large bowl. ]
Help yourself. I'll put the movie on.
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This is what it used to be like, huh? Hanging out. Having friends. And no one is worrying about whether or not the barricade is going to hold, or if you have enough to eat, or whether or not your patrol's coming back from a walkabout of the perimeter.
It's just this. Laughing, joking, eating popcorn.
God, Riley would love it. She deserved to see it. But she isn't here, can't be brought here, and so Ellie resolves to just... eat herself sick on popcorn and cookies and pop for the both of them. That's the best way to honour someone's memory, right?
So she curls up on the edge of the couch, feet tucked under herself. There's a blanket draped across the back of the cushions, she turns it into a little nest for herself.]
Hey, Clark?
no subject
Hm?
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[She doesn't say what for. Doesn't really need to. But she can't abide by the idea of things being left unsaid. When you can die at any moment, you have to be willing to be open with yourself, with other people. How else are they going to know you care? One day it'll be all they have left of you. She'd hate for those memories to be bitter, or cold.]