And it feels like I've been away for an era

[callada]

characters: Rosinante, OTA
location: Harbor, Bonfire Square, Scrapyard
date/time: May 27-31
content: End of the month catch-all. Having taken stock of their few remaining supplies, Rosi is boiling water, and ruminating on what to do next.
warnings: n/a

Harbor

This is technically a little risky, what he's doing here, but only because the lake is not his friend and never will be. It, like the sea, hates him. But while others are worrying about food, Rosinante is worrying about water. Sleep is something they can all do, but they'll each need one of the other two if they're going to survive until they can get supplies, and at least water is a more or less inexhaustible resource. It just has to be gathered and treated.

To this end, he has acquired stock pots and a few barrels that once held other food and drink, now all gone. Out at the edge of the water, he fills each barrel by submerging it in the shallows a few inches, tipping it up, then scooping with the stock pots to top it off. It's slow, but the shovel on the ground beside him, a piece of tubing from the pawn shop, and the submerged, half filled-in pit of gravel show his original plan of digging a good hole and siphoning into the barrel didn't work out very well.

He notices light, or maybe the crunch of pebbles underfoot, and beckons you toward him. "Want to give me a hand with this?"

Bonfire Square

The stock pots are better than the barrels for one task in particular - boiling the water over the pile of burning torches. With a few hefty branches carved from a nearby tree, Rosinante has constructed a basic rack to hang them on and let them boil.

In the meantime, he's seated cross-legged on the ground near the fire. His completely soaked clothing shows that in part, he apparently needs to dry off. Feel free to ask about that. Otherwise, he looks at you, hair hanging into his eyes. Probably needs a cut. "You, uh. Don't know if there's anyone around who has a cigarette left, do you?"

Even one would sure be nice right now. Just one. Anything for one.

Scrapyard

That metal hull is something he's had an eye on for months now, but this isn't a place Rosinante comes often and he's standing well back from the pile itself as he looks the remnants of that boat over. For chained within, but watching him closely, is the enormous spirit dog, and while the creature isn't as large compared to him as it is to everyone else here, it's still plenty menacing. He takes a step forward, and it tenses and sniffs at the air.

"Easy," he calls out to it, and bends down to pick up a chunk of wood. Maybe it will accept it as a chew toy? He doesn't exactly have meat to hand out, and that's probably what works best.

"Easy, buddy, I just want to see the boat..."

Maybe he could use some backup.

Comments

Scrapyard

[worthallthis]

Soldat is on patrol. And they always stop by the scrapyard on said patrol, because the dog seems lonely out there by itself, and they've basically made friends with them.

Helps that they almost always have snacks on them that are dog-spirit-friendly.

It's unusual to hear other people in the scrapyard, though, much less Rosinante. There's been enough building materials around everywhere else that people haven't been coming by here looking for things lately-- all the more reason for Soldat to visit the dog, really. They come around the fence entrance, curious, and say, somewhat apologetically, "They're not going to chew on wood that's already in their yard. Hey, pup!"

The last comes out in that pitch that people use around dogs that catches their attention. Soldat has somehow learned or remembered it, and is even smiling some.

[callada]

"What, you have a better idea?"

He's open to suggestions, that's for sure, and lightly tosses the scrap wood back where it came from, then waits to see what Soldat's plan is. It sure sounds like they must know the dog well, so that's good. Helpful.

[worthallthis]

"Sure. I visit them all the time."

They bend down a little, smiling more, and pat their thighs welcomingly. And, voice going full Brooklyn, they say, "C'mere, pup. C'mon. Bet you know what I got for you, huh." There's a (very small, given the rationing) bit of too-charred-for-humans meat in a bag in one of their jacket pockets. But sometimes vigorous scratching and play-wrestling is enough for the dog, too.

[callada]

"Lucky you happened to turn up just in time, then."

He watches Soldat who, not for the first time in his presence but one of the few, essentially transforms into another person. An echo of their past life, judging by the accent. That time when they were Bucky Barnes, recently enlisted into a war. He doesn't spend much time trying to piece together the jumble that is Soldat's life because ultimately it doesn't concern him much, but he's picked up enough.

"I was here to have a look at that hull again," he says, pointing a thumb in the direction of the old boat. "I've been wondering if metal might be strong enough to stand up to the fighting fish. But I don't know how I'd ever get it from here to the lake."

[worthallthis]

Soldat catches a barreling dog-spirit in the chest, winds up on their butt in the dirt, letting said dog-spirit nuzzle around looking for their treat. They're grinning, though, so clearly this isn't a surprise. "Same way they get boats out of dry-dock I figure. Roll it to the river. Had actual rollers where I remember, but could just use logs. And, you know, the dragon probably."

They do have a couple memories of working at the docks in Brooklyn, a lifetime and then some ago. Apparently they saw a boat being rolled out of dry-dock, too. Interesting. (Also interesting: didn't remember the word "dry-dock" before. I did. Well, ain't you special.) Sarge laughs, as Soldat finally gets the bit of crunchy too-cooked meat into the dog-spirit, and settles for scratching behind their ears.

[callada]

"River's got bridges on it, though, and it's too narrow anyway. Something like this would bump against the banks pretty hard."

Might just break it apart, too, but if it's that fragile then it probably isn't seaworthy enough anyway.

"Dunno how much Stone can carry but probably not this much," he adds, as he looks back toward Soldat and their oversized dog. "Rolling it on logs could work anyway, though. Just a lot of trees between here and the shore. But it got up here somehow, I figure it can get back."

It's true, though, that he's at a bit of a loss. These seem like decent suggestions that might be part of a solution, but probably not the whole solution. Being on islands, and at Marineford in particular, for so much of his life, he has had the good fortune of spending time in places that were very well-designed to handle boat repairs and construction. Marineford in particular, with its enormous towering systems of pulleys and platforms, made it so he never really wondered about the practicality of moving ships around. Still, he figures he can puzzle it out. It'll just take some strategy and imagination.

[worthallthis]

"Gotta make it seaworthy first, anyway. Or lakeworthy?" Hell, they don't know. They pick themselves up, keeping the flesh hand on the dog spirit to keep petting absently as they walk. The spirit follows along, seemingly happy enough now to let Rosinante poke around as he likes, so long as they keep getting scritches. "That, I don't know much about. I worked on a dock once, unloading ships, but I never actually did any repair on 'em. You ever worked on a metal boat like that before?"

[callada]

"No," he says as he picks and trips his way through the junk to get closer to it, then runs a hand along the rough, rusted surface of the hull.

"Just wood, though our Marine warships are also covered in a thin layer of seastone," he continues while he admires the poor exoskeleton of the old beast. The rust is a problem - patches of it have corroded so deeply that there are holes eaten right through the metal. What material is this, anyway - aluminum? Steel? It's hard to guess given the state it's in and his lack of experience. What would it take to patch this thing up? Probably months of work, if not years, unless someone here is a metalworker already and he just doesn't know about it.

[worthallthis]

Soldat knows how to make minor repairs on their own arm, how to fix metal shutters over a lantern to keep the light hidden, but nothing of this size. They tilt their head to one side for a better look at some of the rust. "I know a little. Not about boats, just metal. Smaller things. Like this." The metal hand lifts a little, buzzes.

"Maybe there's books in the library on boat repair?" That... didn't get ruined in the flood? If they're lucky.

[callada]

"Seems awfully specific, especially since most of what's in there are stories from other worlds, not instruction manuals."

Strange stories too, though some are all right. He struggles to get into a lot of them, though - the worlds described inside are so alien and sometimes that can be fun but other times he has a hard time understanding what they're even talking about, with their references to people and events and technologies he's never heard of.

"But I could ask Pluto next time we see her. They obviously know how to maintain their ships."

[worthallthis]

"There's some stuff on real things there. There's a book on the city I came from. Not instructions, really, but not a story, either. So there could be." They shake their head, and start circling the boat, trying to get an idea of whether it's something they'd know how to drive.

Not that anyone would likely let him pilot a boat again any time soon, and they'd probably be right. "It's a thought, anyway, if Pluto doesn't have anything."

[callada]

"Yeah. Or I'll ask around. Maybe others here have metal skills I don't know about. I wouldn't mind learning, anyway."

There's the briefest of thoughts that it would be amazing to return home with such an ability, to spread the knowledge even though metal is limited and mining it is difficult in his ocean world. But it's truly brief, for he can't allow himself those kinds of fantasies. Only makes being here harder. Beacon isn't home, but it's where he will have to remain.

Like most things here, this boat was not built with someone his size in mind. He finds a couple of metal beams and a board that doesn't look too rotten yet, and fashions a simple ramp so he can scramble up high enough to see the deck. It doesn't look like it's in any shape to be stood on, this really is a skeleton of a boat, so he sits on the edge rather than climbing aboard and lets his legs hang down the outside of the hull. It creaks under his weight, but the thing is big enough and has been here long enough where it's clearly wedged into place solidly, and not yet old enough to crumble entirely or the flood would have done away with it.

"Not much left of the deck or cabin. But that's probably a good thing in this case. Should make patching the hull easier, and then I can rebuild the rest with wood."

He'll need a hell of a lot more rope, though. There's no sign of rigging, or even any sort of mast. Needs canvas for the sails, too. More things Pluto will have to help with, given their inability to rely on Rastus for supplies.

bah wrote a tag last night and never hit "post"

[worthallthis]

It probably wasn't built with someone of Soldat's weight, either. They don't even try his ramp, just peering up at him as he examines it, not wanting to rock it or, worse, break it while Rosinante is up there. Knowing Rosi's luck, they would. "Long-term project, for sure. There any sign of the engine controls?"

Because Soldat is assuming it never had a mast or rigging, but a motor, like the ferry and the boats in the harbor in Beacon's past.

Harbor

[paletteswap]

Food. Water. Supplies. Everything is dwindling dangerously low. He's noticed those in the Invincible pouring themselves drinks that are barely perceptible and trying to draw it out for an hour with minimal success. And it's not as if sleep is coming easily either - not with so many things to worry about.

He's a little surprised to find Rosinante by the lake, after fishing up a foam clone of himself and then being killed by whatever horrible monster lives in there, he wouldn't have thought the man would come back and try his luck again. Still, he has a good plan if what Kuai surmises is true.

"Planning to take all that back to town?" He raises an eyebrow as it's instantly evident that this is going to take forever to get enough water for everyone in town. "Is it drinkable?"

[callada]

"Going to boil it first," he replies as he hauls up another heavy bucket, then pours it into the barrel before looking at Kuai with a solemn nod. "That part's going to take even more time. But I figured I better get started before we completely run out."

In truth, he's not sure if it needs to be boiled. Maybe, since they're dead, they can drink the water as-is. Maybe it's fine. Maybe the water is naturally fresh and clean, like how the food stays good for a long time here on the general store shelves. But yes, given the things that seem to exist in the lake, he figures he'd better boil it to be safe.

[paletteswap]

Even if it didn't need to be, there's something comforting in the familiar gesture. A little bit of safety even if it was meaningless.

"Solid plan." He turns to stare out at the lake for a bit before running his hands through his hair and turning back to Rosinante. "It will be easier to carry back if you have a sled or cart of some sort. Maybe a piece of plywood with a rope to drag over the ground, rather than carrying a barrel of water."

Granted Rosinante was a lot bigger than him, but barrels of water are extremely heavy.

"I'll see if I can find something, there must be something usable left from the wreckage of the flood."

[callada]

"Yeah? That'd be helpful. Was going to try and seal and roll them otherwise. Sled's fine if you can't find anything with good wheels. You could make an ice path for it."

Actually, that almost sounds kind of fun. As long as it's not far too slick and prone to sliding all over the place - but in his experience, ice is never quite that perfect, not like it is in stories. With a heavy weight on a sled, it will still take a lot of effort to drag. He'd just rather do that across a flat surface than the uneven ground.

[paletteswap]

That actually gets an almost smile out of him. Making ice paths for transporting barrels of water is not something he'd ever imagined he'd use his powers for. Being a fighter, a kombatant, for so long he sometimes forgets about all the mundane normal things that make up life.

Or in this case death.

"Certainly. We can try and keep it from slipping back into the lake. I shall return shortly."

And off he heads to try and find something like a wagon or a sled or a cart. Of course there's nothing quite so useful sitting around waiting to be used (though he's pretty sure he's seen a wheelbarrow by the greenhouse at some point, it's not there now). Instead he lashes together some wooden planks with rope and bungie cords, creating a knotted leash to pull it with, something long enough that Rosinante could hold comfortably while Kuai makes an ice path.

Testing it out he stands on it and makes himself an ice path back to the coastline, using it as a makeshift snowboard to head over to Rosinante.

"It may work." He hops off, tugging it into place to put the barrels on. If only town was downhill from here, that would make this so much easier.

[callada]

The grind of wood on ice causes him to look up from scooping water, and he laughs a little in surprise at Kuai's new vehicle. "Looks good! And maybe you've just invented a new summer sport."

He could call it... ice boarding. Or something. Maybe. Rosinante turns back to lift the stock pot full of water, misjudges the balance, and crashes down into the shallow edge of the lake, spilling everything in the pot. It rolls away a few feet, and he fumbles lazily for it but can't quite get himself to move quickly enough to grab it before it's out of reach. It takes a moment before he can make himself stand back up, and with a roll of his shoulders he forces the lethargy aside.

[paletteswap]

He needs the levity, everything is far too gloom and doom, even for someone as stoic as him, "May we live to see the summer and I'll be glad to freeze paths for people to sled on. Maybe off the roof."

Some amount of falling is pretty much a given whenever he interacts with Rosinante, so much so that for the most part he's stopped noticing it. But this is rather dramatic and he actually startles before going to scoop up the pot. "It's been a long few weeks."

He offers a hand to help him up, even though they're about the same height right now, "Have you been out here working for long?"

[callada]

"Hm?" Oof, man, the water makes his head a little fuzzy sometimes, too. He doesn't take the offered hand, he's fine getting up on his own, but hey, nice of the guy to get the pot so it doesn't get swept away by the lake or one of the things in it.

It takes him an extra second to process what the question was, but then he replies, "No, maybe twenty minutes? Long enough to get the barrel almost full. Otherwise I'd have more for you to stick on your sled."

A whole year here, nearly, and almost nobody knows about his problems with water. He should probably let someone know some day so he doesn't manage to drown in just a few feet of it in some freak accident.

[paletteswap]

"Hm." Completely oblivious to Rosinante's issues with water, he assumes that he's just exhausted himself working too hard after the flood and the subsequent ... everything. He can relate. Throwing himself into work is a good way to make him feel like he's making a bit of a difference and keep him from dwelling on their situation, but coupled with the fact he's not sleeping well at all he's stretching himself thin.

The moment his hand connects with the shallow water to retrieve the pot, tiny shards of ice start floating away from his fingers. Had the lake not been in motion and the water stagnant he would have inadvertently created a thin crust of ice on top. Fortunately he's only in a few inches of water and he backs away as soon as he's gotten the pot.

Unbeknownst to him they are the two worst people to be on water retrieval duty.

"Let's see if it works before we commit to more barrels. This may be a disaster." He pushes the sled up against the barrel to make it easier to rock it back and forth and onto the platform.

[callada]

"Might be," he agrees with a smile as he shoves the stopper into the mouth of the barrel, hammers the butt of his palm against it with a good heavy strike to make sure it won't leak, then heaves it with Kuai's help onto the makeshift sled. Damn thing's heavy for sure.

"I can pull it if you want to push. That might help it stay on track," he suggests, and moves to take the rope.

[paletteswap]

There's something about this that's comically ridiculous and even Kuai realizes it. There's a small pang of homesickness that no one from his world is around to goad him about it, Kung Jin maybe to tell him this plan is dumb, or Takeda to snicker under his breath.

But it's just Kuai and Rosinante and a chore they need to get done. Stepping to the side he lays a pathway of ice leading back to town, he'll have to reupp that every twenty feet or so but it's a start. Standing behind it he gives it a steady push, starting this whole thing sliding along the path.

"How are you planning to boil all this? At the kitchen in the Invincible?"

Well it's sliding!

[callada]

Meanwhile, Rosinante takes hold of the rope at the front and tugs it over his shoulder, then gives it a good heave as he starts forward. And surprisingly, it moves pretty well - especially thanks to Kuai pushing it along. So far, so good, though if he was superstitious (and if his hands weren't occupied) he'd probably want to cross his fingers.

"Depends on if they're busy in there. If not, I thought I'd split it, get some going in there and then the rest on the bonfire. Once it's cooled, we can move a bunch of it to the general store. Should be plenty of empty jars still."

Look, okay, sure - most of the buildings probably still have functional plumbing, but his limited experience with plumbing is that it can't be trusted after a flood. It cracks, wastewater spills into the pipes, and having something he can rely on is reassuring until they know the pipes are clear.