S1:Ep5 - Life from Red Clay

Started by Lomari, July 28, 2020, 07:23:56 pm

Rian Carpenter

January 24, 2021, 01:11:52 pm #40 Last Edit: January 24, 2021, 10:32:05 pm by Rian Carpenter
Location: Galley

Everybody was starting to make their way into the galley. As Barnaby wandered in with his eyes glazed, Rian asked of him quickly as he passed:

"Hey, Barn. Come find me after dinner when you get a minute."

He poured a little of the winter warmer into a cup of cocoa and handed to the captain with a nod. The security chief quickly switched back into his role as the cook and directed his attention to the stew, checking that the leftover meat (which he assured Tabby definitely wasn't a cute deer he shot then put in the freezer) was at the right level of tenderness. He made a face as he poked it with a wooden spoon. Not quite there, he fretted slightly then went to get himself a cup of cocoa. Somehow he missed the first step and just poured some of the bourbon straight into a mug.

Carpenter took a long sip just as the aristocrat arrived. He nearly spit it out suppressing a laugh at the sight of him with a fresh bloody nose.

Did he get ambushed? He'd look more alarmed and less like he was waiting for a servant to bring him a flute of champagne if he had...

Well now he'd have to check the CCTV footage of the cargo bay later. While he could enjoy the shaudenfraude, Buckery Buntington the VII was still a member of his crew. Rian grabbed a clean rag meant for the dishes and tossed it over to the Anglo-accented crew-member.

"Been meaning to try blood pudding, Arlo. Glad you could make it."

Next came the hot chocolate and offer of a little alcoholic enhancer if he so chose.

Tabitha Haemish

Location: Med-Bay

Once their patient was gone, the darling's cargo doors had been closed up (the echo of which moved through the ship like a satisfied purr), and the captain's account had been properly compensated for this mission (including the 'double payment' their Mister Potter had promised), the ship itself seemed far warmer and at ease than it had just a few minutes before. Tabby began moving to the door of the med-bay, eager to get another cup of cocoa, when Viktor's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

The bubbly doctor turned to look up at their preacher with wide, curious eyes, her brows aloft in question. "Miss Tabitha...what would you think about spending some time and teaching me a bit about your skills here? ..." With every word, Tabby's eyes lit up and her expression became more and more excited. When he'd finished, she clasped her hands together and popped up onto her tip toes.

"Oh! I'd love to!" she exclaimed, giggling happily and wrapping her arms around the shepherd's waist, her face burying itself enthusiastically against his chest. Tabby pulled her face away and grinned up at him with the light of a sun, "I know you'll be absolutely amazing at it, you're a natural, after all!" she assured him, releasing his torso and taking his hand. She tugged him warmly out of the med-bay toward the tantalizing smell of food and drink, still talking along the way, "I was thinking we should try something hands on, for the crew's moral? Maybe a puppy? Or put a little herb garden somewhere in the cargo hold so they can work with some earth while we're in the black? Or we could all knit a giant blanket, a crew blanket. I just think everyone could use a little cheering up," she noted, looking up at him and beaming.
Dialogue Color: Pink

Mattie Rooney


Location: Galley

True to his word, Rian didn't actually need her help, so Mattie took the role of a passive observer, leaning on the counter as she watched him work his culinary magic. It still felt strange seeing her commander-in-chief be so at ease in the kitchen. Mattie herself hated cooking. It reminded her of home, of the mundane slog that life was back on Lilac: put food on the table, clean up, rinse and repeat until your back hurts too much to stand in front of the stove. But she was grateful that what felt like an off-putting chore to her seemed to provide some kind of relief for him. If left to her own devices, her meals would consist of nothing but bland protein gruel and artificial cheese on crackers.

There was a tenseness to Rian's demeanor which Mattie attributed to the stressful day, but the silence between them was not uncomfortable. It felt nice to have someone you could communicate with through meaningful glances alone, as they did when Bowler Hat popped by. Bret and Serg had been such insufferable blabbermouths. Not to mention complete bastards.

"Uhhhh..." The captain wandered mindlessly into the galley, something resembling a thousand yard stare in his eyes. This time it was Mattie who shot Rian a look, but he was way ahead of her, addressing the captain in between his bustling about the galley. As the security chief turned his attention back to the stew, Mattie helped herself to a cup of cocoa (a hefty helping of spirits included) and approached the captain.

"So... Is the old gut-bag finally gone?" she asked, echoing Rian's phasing from before and immediately regretting it. Way to read the room, Temperance. Before she could dwell on her poor choice of words, or correct them, she was distracted by the sight of a bloody-nosed Arlo. Unlike Rian, Mattie she did not have to choke back laughter, although a wicked grin passed over her face. She hid it by taking a sip from her mug and turning away from both the sight of Arlo and whatever the captain's reaction to her lack of tact was.
Dialogue color: darkkhaki

Viktor Söderberg

Location: Hallway/Galley

At his words, Tabby's naturally bright personality turned up to 11. She beamed with the energy of her own internal sunshine.

"I was thinking we should try something hands on, for the crew's moral? Maybe a puppy?"
Viktor's face wrinkled at the mention of a dog. He and dogs never got along too well.
"No dog. Too rowdy. I think something more peaceful is in order."

"Or put a little herb garden somewhere in the cargo hold so they can work with some earth while we're in the black? Or we could all knit a giant blanket, a crew blanket. I just think everyone could use a little cheering up," she noted, looking up at him and beaming.

"I think Rian would enjoy the benefits of an herb garden. I know I'd like puttin' my hands in some dirt every now and again."

In the Galley, his mouth practically overflowed with saliva at the smell of the stew. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. He was sure it's couldn't have been that long ago, but suddenly he was starving. An effect of the cold and adrenaline rush for sure. He poked his nose in the direction of the pot and breathed in deep.

"That smells heavenly! I think I could eat a whole deer by myself." He gave a side-look to Tabitha. He didn't think she'd known there was venison in the stew. Oops. Well, he couldn't do much about it now except fill his mug full of hot cocoa and wait for the food to be ready.

Barnaby Goodweather

February 28, 2021, 10:57:58 am #44 Last Edit: February 28, 2021, 10:58:58 am by noseatbelts
A chill didn't just go down Barnaby's spine. It stayed there and wouldn't shake loose. The walls of the Darling Francine, his home of fifty years, seemed wobbly and unsafe. Ghosts of the past echoed in his ears and... a cup of chocolate milk with a kick was thrust into his hands. Barnaby downed the whole concoction with a couple of pained gulps. "Hot." He said with a grimace. The bourbon warmed his cheeks and, before Arlo could accept Rian's offer, Barnaby pulled the bottle for his own self and plopped down at the head of the table. The Captain's seat. His seat, supposedly.

It felt hard and uncomfortable to him then, as it had a time or two when his self doubt filled his back pockets with pebbles. Another cup of bourbon might help. What could it hurt? The amber liquor poured. He didn't see his crew. Didn't notice Arlo with his bloodied face. Didn't notice the jokes and good humor. The requests for attention. To them, the job was done. Over. Behind.

To Barnaby; it wouldn't leave. Or at least, their cargo. He looked down at his wrist. The one that Potter had grabbed in desperation. Was that a mark? Had the old codger branded him with his damnable, indecipherable, terrifying metaphor of trains or being on trains or being a train or... Barnaby felt like he was losing all sense of himself. He emptied his cup and filled it again. His spine felt warmer. That was a good thing.

A bowl of stew was placed before him, but Barnaby wasn't hungry. He ate anyhow, best not to worry folks. Get your head straight, Goodweather. These folk need you.

He looked at them, forced a smile, and wondered if they did. "Oh, dear." He said as the conversation came back into focus. Maybe getting a laugh would help.

This mood would pass, it always did. Barnaby swallowed another cup and chewed on the venison without tasting it. It usually passed.
Dialogue Color - LightBlue

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