NEWCOMER MINGLE
The ferry makes a soft landing against the jetty as it has done every few days throughout summer. Aina the ferry captain, usually wearing the proud orange short sleeve of the Kollo project, has bundled up in a black wind proof jacket. The island administrator Olivia has made no such compromises, determined to cling to summer as long as possible. She greets the newcomers with a smile, handing out brochures and showing them the way to the cabins.
Around noon there'll be a small get together to welcome the new arrivals. Nothing too fancy, though the blueberry pie that's being served is almost certainly homemade and made with blueberries picked from this very island. Coffee, tea and apple cider is also available.
A FARMERS LIFE FOR ME
It's harvesting season on Norrhamn and for once, plenty of free workers to go around... right? Those who venture up to the farm will find themselves roped into the activities by hook or by crook - doesn't matter if you got farming experience, there's always something you can do. Roofs need to be patched, hay needs to be baled, vegetables picked and fruit preserved for the long, cold, harsh, dark winter that's just around the corner.
Your work won't be in vain though. If you stick with it and stay until the evening, Einar and his family will treat their volunteers to a feast to show their appreciation. There will be such autumn delicacies as värmlandskorv, kroppkaka with salted pork and lingonberry jam, and fried salted herring with pickled cucumber and red onions on crisp bread. Stay really late and we're breaking into the good snaps, my friend. ]
[ At the very least, John Marston doesn't look too out of place at this little mingle. Oh, sure, he feels out of place, but then he's never been the type to go to gatherings, and certainly not the types where they hand out free food like it's nothing special. But maybe things are different here, and that's just something he's gonna have to get used to. It's fine. He's got a brochure. He can read. It's... totally fine. He'll mingle, or at least he'll try. ]
Hey there. [ He tips his hat a bit, brochure still in his other hand. He's trying very hard not to think of this as one his old 'missions.' ] You, uh... You like it here? It as nice as they say?
[ He pauses, then chuckles at himself. John Marston, you ask some weird questions. ]
Probably should've asked that before I got on some ferry to get here, huh?
[ i guess they didn't see each other on the ferry ride, which is just as well. they were both nervous or something. now, though, arthur has got a piece of homemade blueberry pie and some coffee and honestly just with those two things alone the day is really looking up. and this is good fucking pie. pearson can't make anything like this.
he almost chokes on his coffee when he hears that voice. no one else sounds like that.
arthur looks up at john from under the brim of his own hat. ]
[ John doesn't immediately think that it could be Arthur. He hears his voice, sure, but he's heard that voice plenty of time in his memories. Sometimes he sees glimpses, at the corner of his eye, but he knows. Arthur isn't there. He can't be. He puts down his brochure, looks over and --
And Arthur's there. John's words die in his throat. His jaw falls open, brain completely blank. ]
[ Yeah, John didn't really memorize the brochure or anything, he was looking for an out from his misery and he got it -- he did not expect this. ]
I -- but you... [ John looks down and back up, eyes going all over him. It's Arthur alright. Like he never got any older. Like it hasn't been nearly ten years since... ] Arthur, I...
[ John chokes on the words, disbelief weighing down what little he manages to say. How many times had he been to his grave? ]
[ well, shit. arthur can't quite meet his eyes when he does that. he knows john too well and if john is going to cry he's probably going to start crying too. it breaks his heart to know charles was the one who had to carry that burden. it breaks his heart seeing john this way, too. he was ready to go when he died. it's knowing that he left people behind that's the hard part.
he doesn't know what to say. it had clearly been awhile -- little john, all grown up.]
You, um, [ he pokes at his blueberry pie rather than looking up at john, and then finally does look at him because this is hard enough without him making it harder on john. he'd been looking out for the other man since the day he joined their gang. why stop now? ] You look good.
[ Yeah, John can't even be mad that Arthur is barely acknowledging the weight of all this -- the more John thinks about it, the harder it gets to rein in his emotions. He really doesn't want to start crying in front of a bunch of strangers who offered to let him vacation on an island. But those same people didn't really warn him that Arthur Morgan would be at that same island as well. ]
It's been... years, and you... you should be --
[ Well, he's not gonna say it, but all he can think of is Arthur in those final moments -- handing him his things, giving him his hat... John's swallows a sob by clearing his throat, shaking only slightly as he looks back at the brochure he's nearly crushed. ]
Well, there are a few comforts I am learning to do without, but it is peaceful - for the most part, as promised.
[ Like Olivia, Ashura is choosing to cling to the warmer months as long as possible. Winter is not going to be fun for him in his array of bright red, gold, white, and black silks and dark hair down to the earth. He runs hot, thankfully, thanks to his gifts, so he is probably managing better than their hosts - for now.
He gave a soft, friendly smile in greeting to the newcomer, though his hands were already full of a plate with the delicious pie, his lips touched blue just at the crease where he had obviously paused to savor the taste on the fork. ]
My palette is being delightfully expanded as well ~
[ Compared to John, this stranger almost looks like he stepped out of a fairy tale. He's never met royalty before, it doesn't even occur to him that he might be talking to one. He just keeps talking politely—really, small talk ain't exactly his thing, but at least he can do this. ]
Now, when ya say "for the most part," what's that mean, exactly?
[ Well, Ashura had come here to do away with the trappings and
traditions and responsibilities of his kingship, though when one is raised
a certain way, it hard to suddenly go without. Ashura made a small sound as
he decided how best to answer the question. ]
The island is peaceful, and its people welcoming. But we are not the only
inhabitants of this place. And whether by nature or by conscious
maliciousness, they do not always mean us well. The lake can be especially
dangerous, around the lilies.
[ You'll have to forgive John, he can be a little rude even if he means well. He's a good listener, at least. And he doesn't doubt Ashura's story one bit. ]
Shit, we talking freakish lake folk or some kinda man-eating plant species?
[ Ashura has never tried to stand on to much formality, despite his
station in life, and living here for the past few weeks, he has learned to
let go of some of the stiffness of it all. ]
A denizen of the lake, I suspect. Something to do with the lilies, so do
watch out for those. Whatever the case, we are not the only residents on
this place, though I can't say to what degree.
[ He smiled gently. ]
The village is safe, though. And quite accommodating; very quaint.
[ what skepticism he might have had looking over the brochure quickly melts away once he's eating the pie. brochure now tucked into his satchel for safekeeping, he's content to eat pie and sip coffee. a good, wholesome break. he hasn't had homemade pie like this basically ever. he's quiet, not particularly outgoing but he'll smile at least a little bit if anyone tries to catch his attention. he might look rough and tumble on the outside but he's not unfriendly. ]
a farmers life for me.
[ sure, working isn't really a break, but arthur isn't the best at relaxing. he's more than happy to lend a hand, it gives him something to do. he's strong, too, shaped by years of hard work not so much on a farm but definitely on the range where they had plenty of similar chores. also, just saying, he's quite the novice horticulturalist.
what he settles on is baling hay and stacking it - he's strong enough to carry a bale by himself and it seems like a good division of labor to use his strength this way so someone else doesn't have to. but if he sees anyone having some trouble with what they're doing he'll immediately offer: ]
[ Spike usually skips out on these little gatherings, along with most other gatherings. He can't eat these things and even more so, he's not one to socialise with the neighbours. Ianto has been a good influence, but most of all he's bored out of his mind, plain and simple. So, he shows up to ogle the newcomers, hanging around with a cup of perfect 98.6 B-positive cradled in his hand. Surprisingly, this place knows how to make a good cup of blood.
He catches sight of the cowboy, brow raising. Something about that style of dress feels somewhat nostalgic. ]
[ you see one of these things and you've probably seen them all. especially if you you were used to a more comfortable lifestyle back home, he figures. he lets spike stare at him for awhile, just trying to see if he'll say anything, but then he gets that inquisitive look and he chuckles low and tips his hat. ]
[ This is almost too good to be true. A real, live cowboy - the West was already long conquered by the time he made it over the pond, but of course he's heard about them. Even eaten one or two of their descendents. Good, warm-blooded folk, that. ]
Oi, mate. [ He counters, letting the accent thicken. ] You new around here?
[ spike's accent surprises him a little. he's met englishmen before, naturally, but spike's accent is a little thicker, different. and that's before getting to the way he dresses. ]
[ Welcome to the whole experience that is Spike - so much of him is image and surface. If he kept the accent the way it was pre-turning, it may be a bit more recognizeable, but of course he had to go full on working class when he had the chance of reinvention. ]
I would say stay alert but honestly, so far this place is pretty much what it says on the tin. Quiet. Safe. [ He spits out safe as if that's not actually a good thing. ]
[it's less that Kaidan's struggling with baling the hay, and more that this much uninterrupted work in the sun was bound to trigger one of his migraines. He's leaning back against the truck with a damp cloth across his eyes, and though he stirs some when he hears footsteps approaching, he can't be bothered to take it off. (somewhere in some other distant universe, his mother is scolding him for his bad manners, he knows it.)]
No, no, [he says, unconvincingly,] I'm fine. Just, [a vague hand gesture,] headache, that's all.
[he reaches up to lift the edge of the cloth so that he can squint from beneath it at the person who has approached him. a beat, and then,] I promise, I'm usually less pathetic than this.
[ After seeing the fliers around town, Hanako is overcome with a strange wish to visit the farm and engage in an activity she never tried before. She might come to regret it and never try again, but whether or not that will be the case is something she'll have to see for herself. Perhaps the new season turned her a bit more adventurous? Surely, the air of Norrhamn gave her quite a bit of help getting out of her cabin more often.
As soon as she reached the farm, she's quickly pulled into work. Eventually she's tasked with simply pulling the ripe vegetables from the ground. Unlike her expectations, the task surprisingly harder than it looks. One hour later, her arms already hurt! Still, she's carrying on as her drive to do something productive hasn't died off yet. She could use some help, though. Anyone? ]
ii; pause
[ A while later,she can be found sitting under a tree, drinking water and looking thoroughly beaten with fatigue.
Whoever comes across her will be greeted with a sheepish bow of her head in greeting, her long bangs overshadowing the left half of her face despite her hair being tied in a ponytail. There's space next to her if you'd like to indulge in her company. ]
iii; feast
[ For once, she thinks the reward is well deserved. Tired and with no will to unglue herself from the seat she's taken, Hanako will pluck at the food and watch the other people eating as well, being a wallflower as usual. The only difference is that she looks a bit more serene, with that sense of accomplishment washing over her exhausted form.
Talk to her, and she won't even startle or act extremely skittish as her usual. Incredible! ]
[After having spent much of her time recently in her room—to the point that she hasn't even properly met her current housemate—April had a feeling that she needed to get out and about. It wasn't necessarily to socialize, though she felt like she wouldn't mind that at all. It was instead because the thought of holing herself up, even if that was so she could remain undisturbed in her thoughts, made her feel increasingly uncomfortable anymore.
Why? She wasn't entirely sure.
So she'd left her room, left the cabin, and made to wander, and eventually found herself riding the bus out to the farm—her first ride of any vehicle in the seventeen years of her life, if one disregards the ferry that initially brought her here.
Almost immediately upon her arrival, it happened: she was asked if she could spare some time to help, and just like that, much to her own confusion, she felt compelled to do something. Having no real experience with any of the tasks at hand—what bit of life experience she did have was as a hunter, not a farmer—she found herself settling into picking vegetables as that sounded to her like it was the simplest option.]
EVENING
[Though not especially hungry—a bit of a surprise considering she had spent the entire afternoon doing what she could without leaving herself too much time to take a break—April didn't immediately leave when the work was done. Instead, she found herself a seat and remained there, accepting some of of the food when it's offered to her but otherwise letting anyone and everyone else have at it first.]
Kaidan can't remember the last time he ate blueberries. Real blueberries, that is--not the fabricated fruit paste or dehydrated blue chips that were somewhat typical of military rations when shipping out for deep space missions. No, this is the real deal, the kind of fruit you could only find grown in Earth soil, fed by the sunlight and fresh rain water, the kind of thing you never thought you'd miss until you discovered you might never have it again. That you might never have anything, ever again.
...The point is, the pie is delicious.
He's taken his introspective navel-gazing to a picnic table a little on the outskirts of the gathering, mulling these thoughts over to himself while he people-watches in comfortable quiet. (However, while clearly a bit of a loner, he's hardly brusque if approached or interrupted.)
ii. a farmer's life for me
An honest day's work with plenty to keep the hands occupied has the added benefit of keeping the mind from wandering too far, too.
Working the farm isn't too different from pitching in at his family's orchard in the British Columbia interior, Kaidan discovers; the sun warms his arms and the back of his neck just the same, and the outdoor smells and sounds are familiar even if the motions take a little bit of getting used to. He's out in the middle of the field at present loading up bales of hay onto the back of a wagon, which work that surely should be too much for one man to do on his own--though the slight sheen of blue-violent luminescence that ripples through the air only an inch or so away from his body suggests that he's relying on more than just muscle to get this work done.
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Chat with an NPC
no subject
[ At the very least, John Marston doesn't look too out of place at this little mingle. Oh, sure, he feels out of place, but then he's never been the type to go to gatherings, and certainly not the types where they hand out free food like it's nothing special. But maybe things are different here, and that's just something he's gonna have to get used to. It's fine. He's got a brochure. He can read. It's... totally fine. He'll mingle, or at least he'll try. ]
Hey there. [ He tips his hat a bit, brochure still in his other hand. He's trying very hard not to think of this as one his old 'missions.' ] You, uh... You like it here? It as nice as they say?
[ He pauses, then chuckles at himself. John Marston, you ask some weird questions. ]
Probably should've asked that before I got on some ferry to get here, huh?
harvest and such - later
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he almost chokes on his coffee when he hears that voice. no one else sounds like that.
arthur looks up at john from under the brim of his own hat. ]
I --
[ the last time he'd seen john... ]
Wish I could tell you.
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And Arthur's there. John's words die in his throat. His jaw falls open, brain completely blank. ]
Uhhh...
[ John stares, eyes wide. ]
Am I dreamin'?
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Not unless we both are. Whole thing kinda sounds like a gimmick, so maybe that'd explain it.
[ the multiverse? this place? i mean, he's here and it sounds great but maybe that's why its a dream ]
rdr2 spoilers
I -- but you... [ John looks down and back up, eyes going all over him. It's Arthur alright. Like he never got any older. Like it hasn't been nearly ten years since... ] Arthur, I...
[ John chokes on the words, disbelief weighing down what little he manages to say. How many times had he been to his grave? ]
Charles buried you.
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he doesn't know what to say. it had clearly been awhile -- little john, all grown up.]
You, um, [ he pokes at his blueberry pie rather than looking up at john, and then finally does look at him because this is hard enough without him making it harder on john. he'd been looking out for the other man since the day he joined their gang. why stop now? ] You look good.
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It's been... years, and you... you should be --
[ Well, he's not gonna say it, but all he can think of is Arthur in those final moments -- handing him his things, giving him his hat... John's swallows a sob by clearing his throat, shaking only slightly as he looks back at the brochure he's nearly crushed. ]
You... You feeling alright?
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[ Like Olivia, Ashura is choosing to cling to the warmer months as long as possible. Winter is not going to be fun for him in his array of bright red, gold, white, and black silks and dark hair down to the earth. He runs hot, thankfully, thanks to his gifts, so he is probably managing better than their hosts - for now.
He gave a soft, friendly smile in greeting to the newcomer, though his hands were already full of a plate with the delicious pie, his lips touched blue just at the crease where he had obviously paused to savor the taste on the fork. ]
My palette is being delightfully expanded as well ~
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[ Compared to John, this stranger almost looks like he stepped out of a fairy tale. He's never met royalty before, it doesn't even occur to him that he might be talking to one. He just keeps talking politely—really, small talk ain't exactly his thing, but at least he can do this. ]
Now, when ya say "for the most part," what's that mean, exactly?
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[ Well, Ashura had come here to do away with the trappings and traditions and responsibilities of his kingship, though when one is raised a certain way, it hard to suddenly go without. Ashura made a small sound as he decided how best to answer the question. ]
The island is peaceful, and its people welcoming. But we are not the only inhabitants of this place. And whether by nature or by conscious maliciousness, they do not always mean us well. The lake can be especially dangerous, around the lilies.
no subject
Shit, we talking freakish lake folk or some kinda man-eating plant species?
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[ Ashura has never tried to stand on to much formality, despite his station in life, and living here for the past few weeks, he has learned to let go of some of the stiffness of it all. ]
A denizen of the lake, I suspect. Something to do with the lilies, so do watch out for those. Whatever the case, we are not the only residents on this place, though I can't say to what degree.
[ He smiled gently. ]
The village is safe, though. And quite accommodating; very quaint.
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[ what skepticism he might have had looking over the brochure quickly melts away once he's eating the pie. brochure now tucked into his satchel for safekeeping, he's content to eat pie and sip coffee. a good, wholesome break. he hasn't had homemade pie like this basically ever. he's quiet, not particularly outgoing but he'll smile at least a little bit if anyone tries to catch his attention. he might look rough and tumble on the outside but he's not unfriendly. ]
a farmers life for me.
[ sure, working isn't really a break, but arthur isn't the best at relaxing. he's more than happy to lend a hand, it gives him something to do. he's strong, too, shaped by years of hard work not so much on a farm but definitely on the range where they had plenty of similar chores. also, just saying, he's quite the novice horticulturalist.
what he settles on is baling hay and stacking it - he's strong enough to carry a bale by himself and it seems like a good division of labor to use his strength this way so someone else doesn't have to. but if he sees anyone having some trouble with what they're doing he'll immediately offer: ]
Do you want some help with that?
newbie mingle
He catches sight of the cowboy, brow raising. Something about that style of dress feels somewhat nostalgic. ]
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Howdy, pardner.
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Oi, mate. [ He counters, letting the accent thicken. ] You new around here?
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[ spike's accent surprises him a little. he's met englishmen before, naturally, but spike's accent is a little thicker, different. and that's before getting to the way he dresses. ]
You got any advice for a newcomer like myself?
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I would say stay alert but honestly, so far this place is pretty much what it says on the tin. Quiet. Safe. [ He spits out safe as if that's not actually a good thing. ]
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No, no, [he says, unconvincingly,] I'm fine. Just, [a vague hand gesture,] headache, that's all.
[he reaches up to lift the edge of the cloth so that he can squint from beneath it at the person who has approached him. a beat, and then,] I promise, I'm usually less pathetic than this.
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I seen pathetic before, and this ain't it. Anyone overdoin' it in the sun is bound to need a break, eventually.
[ except arthur, i guess, who is trying to take on extra chores here. ]
I could get you some water, or something.
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ii; pause
iii; feast
no subject
[After having spent much of her time recently in her room—to the point that she hasn't even properly met her current housemate—April had a feeling that she needed to get out and about. It wasn't necessarily to socialize, though she felt like she wouldn't mind that at all. It was instead because the thought of holing herself up, even if that was so she could remain undisturbed in her thoughts, made her feel increasingly uncomfortable anymore.
Why? She wasn't entirely sure.
So she'd left her room, left the cabin, and made to wander, and eventually found herself riding the bus out to the farm—her first ride of any vehicle in the seventeen years of her life, if one disregards the ferry that initially brought her here.
Almost immediately upon her arrival, it happened: she was asked if she could spare some time to help, and just like that, much to her own confusion, she felt compelled to do something. Having no real experience with any of the tasks at hand—what bit of life experience she did have was as a hunter, not a farmer—she found herself settling into picking vegetables as that sounded to her like it was the simplest option.]
[Though not especially hungry—a bit of a surprise considering she had spent the entire afternoon doing what she could without leaving herself too much time to take a break—April didn't immediately leave when the work was done. Instead, she found herself a seat and remained there, accepting some of of the food when it's offered to her but otherwise letting anyone and everyone else have at it first.]
no subject
Kaidan can't remember the last time he ate blueberries. Real blueberries, that is--not the fabricated fruit paste or dehydrated blue chips that were somewhat typical of military rations when shipping out for deep space missions. No, this is the real deal, the kind of fruit you could only find grown in Earth soil, fed by the sunlight and fresh rain water, the kind of thing you never thought you'd miss until you discovered you might never have it again. That you might never have anything, ever again.
...The point is, the pie is delicious.
He's taken his introspective navel-gazing to a picnic table a little on the outskirts of the gathering, mulling these thoughts over to himself while he people-watches in comfortable quiet. (However, while clearly a bit of a loner, he's hardly brusque if approached or interrupted.)
ii. a farmer's life for me
An honest day's work with plenty to keep the hands occupied has the added benefit of keeping the mind from wandering too far, too.
Working the farm isn't too different from pitching in at his family's orchard in the British Columbia interior, Kaidan discovers; the sun warms his arms and the back of his neck just the same, and the outdoor smells and sounds are familiar even if the motions take a little bit of getting used to. He's out in the middle of the field at present loading up bales of hay onto the back of a wagon, which work that surely should be too much for one man to do on his own--though the slight sheen of blue-violent luminescence that ripples through the air only an inch or so away from his body suggests that he's relying on more than just muscle to get this work done.