Donquixote Rosinante (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
callada) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
logsinthenight2020-05-27 07:00 pm
callada) wrote in logsinthenight2020-05-27 07:00 pm
Entry tags:
And it feels like I've been away for an era
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.
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.