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. ]
[ 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. ]
[ arthur has known plenty of people who would say safe the same way. a year ago, he might have even done the same. but he's old and tired and ready for safe, really. he chuckles low, quiet, but smiles. i guess when you run with the crowd he does those kinds of things become endearing. ]
[ There's a sort of mutually assured emotional destruction looming over this island. Everyone is here for the same messed up reason and there's no point in hiding it.
Spike gives a nonchalant nod in response, takes a sip from his still warm mug of blood. ]
[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.
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no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
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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Can't complain about that.
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[ Him too, as it happens, though less for the peace and quiet and more for the time it affords him. ]
I'm Spike.
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[ both of them. they both needed a break. ]
Arthur. It's a pleasure.
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Spike gives a nonchalant nod in response, takes a sip from his still warm mug of blood. ]
So. When are you from?
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[ and he kind of hated every moment of it, but that's ok. ]
You?
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-but originally I'm from London. Left in 1880.
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[ the drama definitely works ]
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Quite a lot of changes in the world, too.
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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.
no subject
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.