riverviewlogs | semi-closed catch-all;

Entry tags:

semi-closed catch-all;

who: Shai, Flint or Ellie.
what: general catch-all log for the month of May
where: All over the place.
warnings: none yet, will update as necessary.
notes: pm me if you want to do something/would like a starter, happy to whip one up. totally open to new/established cr with firefly/memoria stuff here too.

Shai;

[Shai can be found doing all manner of things. She works as an electrical engineer, so feel free to run into her at her place of work. Alternately, she can be found in the gym, jogging at four AM like a crazy person, showing off her extensive electrokinetic powers to crowds she can shock and awe, or hell, she will absolutely come up to you and say hi if you glance in her direction. Feel free to pick something and go from there.

She's also a consummate flirt, so feel free to run into her at a bar where she will definitely buy your character (man or woman) a drink and strike up a conversation in that context as well.]

Flint;

[Flint can usually be found in the library, or doing woodworking at a small shop he's taken out a rental on. Alternately, he hosts a weekly event at a set location near the woods where he teaches swordfighting and grappling! Talk to him about literature and he will be your friend forever.]

Ellie;

[Ellie has moved out of the communal housing complexes and into this awesome place. Existing CR is more than welcome to make house calls, she'll have contacted everyone she has a decent amount of positive CR with to let them know where she is now.

She can also be found in the park throwing around balls (want to get whacked in the head? this is your chance) and off in the woods practicing with archery and guns if you feel like stumbling across her there. She's also keen on monster fighting, exploring, and everything in between.]

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[It's been a shitty, shitty week, which isn't exactly new for Taako, but it's the first time in Riverview that he's had to deal with anything more difficult than a few monsters or like, Clark having emotions near him that require sympathy. Between the physical (psychic?) strain of drinking the ichor and the memories associated with it, he's been a little quieter than usual, a little more withdrawn.

But today he is Determined not to spend the whole time sulking, so he's descended upon the kitchen like some kind of chaos demon, throwing himself into a distraction, and in the interest of not being alone, he waves a hand to project his voice through the house.]

Where you at, bubbale? We're making souffles and it's a mandatory team bonding exercise.

[They are definitely a team.]

[This is the story of how Ellie schleps down the stairs in the grungiest PJs imaginable and just sort of rubs at her face. She was sleeping, asshole. Why? Don't ask. What time is it? Don't care.]

What the fuck's a souffle?

That answer alone is why we're doing this.

[He's regarding her just a little bit critically, before he arches an eyebrow.]

Did you just wake up?

[Sometimes he forgets how much sleep humans need.]

[Grumpily,]

I had a late night.

[Which is lowkey code for 'nightmares and also I hate people'. She hops up on the counter as is her custom and yawns widely, blocking it with her forearm.]

[Most of the time he'd let that go without much comment, but today he gently taps his knuckles on her knee.]

You ever wanna like, not have a shitty night, I can shape dreams.

[It's not something he's offered before, mostly because it's a somewhat invasive spell and would require Ellie to trust him maybe more than she does, right now, but he wants to put it on the table, anyway.]

[ John stands at the pier with a black bag slung over one shoulder, squinting up at the sky. The clouds hang low, thick and grey, smothering the cityscape like a heavy, woollen blanket.

John's skill-set doesn't extend to seafaring. His experience on the water goes so far as the ferry. He's counting on Flint to navigate the river. There are others he could ask, people more familiar with the city and lay of the land, but John doesn't know them. John doesn't know Flint either, really, but he's got a feeling for him. That counts for something. ]

[She trusts him more than she trusts like ninety-five percent of people here, evidenced enough by the fact she's willing to live with him.

But even without knowing what it would take, the idea of living without her nightmares is sort of daunting. It's something she has from home, memories she can't bring herself to forget. As with all things, it's a weight.]

Ah... I don't know. It's a sweet offer, but it's fine. I'll deal, you know?

[He's already there, having come to unmoor the boat and ready it for its trip downriver. There are treacherous waters ahead, and a portage will almost certainly be necessary should the trip necessitate travel in an oceanward direction, but he's unconcerned with the logistics of it all. They're competent men, no doubt they will manage.

Flint raises a hand from the crossbraced bench on the small boat, to catch John's attention and beckon him over. The bag gets only a cursory glance. He too is armed, his sword and several modern pistols rolled up in an oilskin beneath his seat.]

If you're sure, offer's always there if you need a quiet night.

[It's a once off spell, that's meant to be a way to deliver a message, but he's pretty sure he could use it to keep away her nightmares for a night.

But he won't press it, instead heading over to fill a mug with coffee for Ellie.]

To answer your question, soufflé is a baked dish, real tricky to pull off which is why it's hella impressive when someone can do it.

[So he's gonna teach Ellie.]

Nice boat.

[ John steps down from the dock and into the boat. It's smaller than he was expecting, but they're only two men, and the river is only so long. Anything larger would likely require more hands. He's not concerned. Like most things, it's not the size of the vessel that counts, but how one uses it.

He sets his bag down, stashing it under his seat. John doesn't know the water, but he trusts his companion does, so he'll follow suit. ]

Looks a little rough out there.

[She takes the coffee and just bumps her shoulder into Taako's companionably, its own version of thanks as she takes her first sip.

She likes coffee, but she's not its biggest fan by a long shot. But Joel would drink it by the gallon if he were here, and she misses him enough that she's going to drink it stubbornly in his honour.]

Okay, sure. What do we have to do?

[He arches an eyebrow as John steps down into the boat, steadying it beneath the heel of a man obviously unaccustomed to life on open water. Be that as it may, he has enough natural grace to compensate.

The boat lowers into the water by his weight, and settles. James hands him an oar once he stows his bag.]

I've never met an instance of smooth sailing that birthed a skilled sailor.

[One corner of his mouth flickers upwards, half a smile.]

Doubtless we'll survive.

Doubtless.

[ John braces himself, his hands gripping the sides of the boat. The water is dark and choppy, slapping noisily against the hull. He looks around himself in all directions, like an animal attempting to settle itself in an unfamiliar surrounding. Humans aren't as far removed as they'd like to be. ]

No life jackets?

[Taako adores Clark, he's probably his best friend here, but his dynamic with Ellie is an easier one to fall into, where they don't need to bother with actually like, talking about shit. She bumps him with her shoulder and he gets what she isn't saying.]

Well that depends on whether you wanna go sweet or savoury, both are options.

[In a dry voice,]

Afraid I won't rescue you if you go overboard?

[Ho-hum. It's a toss-up, really. James McGraw was not in the habit of risking his life when there was no chance of affecting a favourable outcome, by the time he became Flint he was pragmatic to the point of ruthlessness. John is, by now, an acquaintance of which James is tolerably fond, but he is no one's saviour by any means. He would not go unthinking to rescue anyone without a plan of attack and a reliable method of extraction.

Thomas, perhaps. But then, James never did think clearly on the matter of Thomas Hamilton.]

Under the seat.

[He did, of course, familiarize himself with current maritime trends. He has no especial need for a life jacket, and is disinterested in wearing one besides, but if it sets the other man to ease then so be it.]

Wouldn't want to dampen your moustache.

[ John pulls the life vest out from beneath his seat and straps it on. He's not above practical safety measures. He hasn't lived this long being entirely foolish. His moments of impulsiveness are carefully measure.

John sits across from Flint in fluorescent orange, wholly nonplussed. ]

I'd rather be safe than sorry. Best not push my luck.

[He's not about to go round to her new place, even if he is on the receiving end of the address, but he keeps an eye out for her all the same.

It's in the middle of the memoria festival when he finally catches sight of her, back out in the woods practising with her bow and arrows. He has one of the lanterns dangling from his fingertips, a name written on the side in Cyrillic already, though he's not sure if he plans to actually float it.]

It's me.

[Low words to accompany his arrival, quiet as always, so as not to frighten her.]

[It gets a huff of laughter, and James shakes his head.]

Thoughtful of you.

['Ridiculous'. Not worth saying aloud, it's rather self-evident. Instead, he coils up the rope and stows it. He sets a hand atop one of the oars he's laboured to carve, nearly as rough as his hands, and slots them into their locks.]

What's the nature of this lead of yours?

[He doubts John would have contacted him for anything short of violence. There is something concomitant in their respective natures that speaks to it, regardless of how well James has kept Flint leashed well in hand.

Oars and shovels. There is no divine providence to deliver him. He cannot escape this monstrous thing.

But he rows genially, with an eye to the horizon. There is a storm coming, but they don't need to beat it by any great margin, only weather the less of it.]

[It's a festival for remembering the dead. They do this sort of thing back home sometimes, there's a date left over from the Before that people used to use - Memorial Day, it's May or some shit and it got co-opted to be about all the billions of people wiped out by the Infection. She always felt a little weird about that, you know? Growing up around people who'd seen it happen, who hadn't just grown up with that being their version of 'normal'.

She puts up lanterns for Henry, and Sam, and Tess. Frank too, though she never met him, and thinks Bill would have a fucking tantrum about it one way or another, but it seems like a nice thing to do for the guy that accidentally, inadvertently saved their lives at the cost of his own. She couldn't bring herself to put up one for Riley. That's hers. It's a different sort of hurt.

From there, it's just... practice. It's the only thing she really can do, and it's nice to hone a skill, to feel like maybe you can protect something the next time you have to.

She doesn't flinch when James calls out to her, she just lowers the bow. Her shoulders are straining and she's sweaty and dirty and gross, so she scrubs her forearm across her face as she turns to him.]

Hey.

[It's a reflexive statement, and her expression gentles immediately when she sees what he's carrying.]

You okay?

Ummm...

[She takes a languid sip of her coffee, and then rubs her cheek against her shoulder in thought. The idea of having a choice still sort of blows her fucking mind. She wants to take it all in.]

Savoury. Let's go with savoury.

Perimeter guards gone disappeared down the river. Someone should look into it, and no one's going to miss me. They might miss you, though.

[ John's eyes crinkle at the corners, the only indication he's joking. The clouds are heavy enough. He'll spare flint the weight and wet of his tempestuous emotions.

With the weather being what it is, the harbour is more or less deserted. Those looking for a casual row would wait for sun, and seasoned sailors are already out on the water, or drowning their wages at the bottom of a pint in the nearby pub.

John shifts in his seat, tucking his heels under his seat, knees pulled close to his chest. He has long legs, and more importantly, manners. It's Flint's boat, and he's at the oars. John isn't so rude that he'll take up more space than he's earned.

Which is to say, little more than the plank of wood he's sitting on. ]

Anything I can do to help?

Savoury it is.

[He has the ingredients for both on hand, which means it's just a case of fetching the necessary requirements from the fridge and pantry; sometimes using mage hand if he can't be bothered to make two trips.]

You wanna help me chop some shit up to start?

[Or is she too sleepy to be handed a knife?]

[ So 'fancy armor' basically means actual clothes. Genji is stripped of all his armor and helmet pieces and in a nice pair of slacks, button down and a loose sweater. He arrives at the Cafe a few minutes before the time Shai had given and leans against a wall outside, crossing his arms loosely.

It's probably the most frivolous thing he's done in a good long while, but he can't be hard on himself. With everything that's happened, especially the somber tone as of late around the Quarantine, he welcomes a chance for a little fun. At least now he isn't far too young and far too reckless, desperate to start any kind of trouble.

When he sees her approach he pulls back from the wall and gives an easy smile. ] Why hello there.

[It's good to see someone else still honing their skills here, too many people seem content to just enjoy the festivals and their jobs and their new friends. It bothers at him, itches at the back of his skull. This feels like the calm before the storm, lulling them into a false sense of security until they're weak and unprepared, until they can be destroyed easily.

He glances down at the lantern in his hand when he sees her eyes flick to it, awkwardly setting it down on the forest floor.]

Yeah.

[His eyes meet hers, understanding but muted in sympathy.]

I thought I'd see if you needed one.

[She has to have a lot of death in her past, that's not even a doubt. But now that he's here, he feels like maybe he's overstepped the mark in their tentative friendship.]

[It's a sweet thought. He always does that, shows it in unexpected ways. Ellie's smile is reflexive but entirely genuine.]

I put a few up already. Or is this for floating lanterns?

[She hasn't really... paid attention to the way the festival progresses, but she heard someone mentioning a floating bit later on. She's quiet a moment and then she nods to his.]

You want company?

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semi-closed catch-all;

gimme ellie

as u wish

my hero

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Flint; Waterbearer

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for ellie;

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date night with shai;

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