lifeaftr | Its 4 sale OK

Entry tags:

Its 4 sale OK

Who: Magnus, Ren, Seto, one or both Hustle Twins, + YOU
What: store post
When: April? It's a store, it's always
Where: The temple
Warnings: caveat emptor. caveat everybody.

It's time for another store post! Now with like MATH% more employees than ever before. It's Ren's turn to name the store, so the sign declares this venue "Spicy Treasures," with maybe some extra flourishes courtesy of Taako. Here are the warez. If it's simple/small it's probably in stock, but there's a list of more complicated/less in-demand stuff that can be special ordered.

In addition to the above stock list, with the advent of one Magnus Burnsides, you can request hand carved artisanal woodwares. Ducks, uhhh boxes, furniture maybe? Maybe you just want him to pick up some heavy things? Or hunt? Rent-a-Mags. Maybe if you ask nice you can hug Johann for free.

Any one (or more, if Taako can find a way to rope them into working so he can get some peace) of the above-listed losers might be on staff, so you gotta pick. As always it's all barter system all the time here at Spicy Treasures, good luck.

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“Specifically? Trying to renovate a broken down mess hall into something people can actually eat and work in.” He has it on relatively good authority that these elves are talented cooks, among other things. Dope roasts and all.

He doesn’t even have to pretend to be nonchalant. The exhaustion does all of it for him.

“Interested?”

Now there's a thought, but it's not one Taako is quite ready to latch on to, tipping an ear back warily like maybe he suspects something is sneaking up on him.

"In cooking? Or renovating?"

"Either one." Honestly, he's not picky. "Or both. If you help put the place together, you can even move in."

They seem fine running their Walmart outta the Storyteller's Temple, but he wouldn't blame them for wanting to switch up locations and get off the rabbit's proverbial lawn. Then again, considering how long they've stuck around, maybe they just straight up don't mind.

Now that sounds like something, moving in. Not that he hates the temple, by any means-- it's well known, it's easy to find, and there's gotta be some benefit to Lup being so in cahoots with the ol' ST (besides like...all the other real tangible benefits). But on the other hand, there's something to be said for greener pastures and expanding the brand.

The cooking is more of a question mark, but it sounds like something he can deal with later, which is his favorite kind of thing. "Alright, you have my attention," he announces, with a needlessly imperious gesture for such a non-committal statement. "I mean, I'm not going to go out and pick up a hammer, but I can help with processing, maybe. Where are you wanting to plant this little shindig, anyway?"

"There's this lake on the east side of the island. Couple buildings right next to that? One of them looks like it used to be some kinda mess hall, and I figure we could repurpose it." That's what he's been lowkey working on for the past few months, but as it's become rapidly evident, trying to embark on this kind of thing solo isn't exactly the most efficient means of getting it to come together.

"I got people who can help with construction. Right now the biggest issue is getting the materials to make it work - refining lumber, stuff like that."

Refining, huh? Yeah, that's what he was feeling out. That's a skill he's got in spades, nothing says 'refinement' like chain-Fabricating a bunch of bullshit until you eat dirt and die for a second. Which is to say, he could possibly be counted among the work-party, sure.

"People who can help with construction, I'm guessing Mags is one of those, he's kind of like people," he kids, he kids. Nothing but respect for #TeamSideburns here. "And I can do lumber, maybe some--some roof...ing? Whatever roofs are made of, I guess, if it needs that. I can look into it."

Kinda hit a rough patch there, because this isn't like, his purview, traditionally speaking. But the spirit is there. There's a few other ways he could maybe get his manicured hooks into this project, too, if he took an interest--maybe not cooking directly, he's gonna want to circle that warily a bit, but he could help make whatever other people do not suck. If he gets bored of all the other riveting activity island life has to offer, of course.

"I just kinda wonder," he hesitates, because this is old and un-de-improved Taako, and he's capable of knowing that this isn't like. A Good Person question, but he's gonna ask it anyway, if only for his own edification. "Why are you so into this mess hall thing? Like, what's your angle, there."

Magnus has indeed been nigh indispensable, particularly after the tail end of January, when Tim's use saw itself significantly reduced, which tends to happen after one has suffered a stab wound to the abdomen.

Hasn't seen Gobbet in a while. Not since February. Kinda leads a guy to wonder where she might've gone, and if she'll ever come circling back someday - or if she'll join the legions of those who disappear and never really return. If she already has.

He'll give Taako this much: he's the first guy to ask that question. And thus, he's the first to touch on Tim's actual motivation for establishing something like that, which is the fact that a general hub of activity he can oversee makes it that much easier to keep an ear to the ground. More business transactions, interpersonal fractures, and general goings-on occur over a couple drinks in a bar than they do anywhere else.

It pays to have a line into that.

"The place I was at before I ended up here," he says slowly, and it's easy to paint the image of the self-conscious, self-effacing guy trying to come into his own because that's not entirely untrue either, "there was a lot of...needing to work together. The people there rigged up a generator and stuff, all just by pooling their resources. They set up emergency lines, electricity, infirmaries."

His shoulders lift incrementally, paired with a deprecating slant to the side of his mouth.

"I made compost."

It was the only use they could find for him.

The compost line is pretty good, Taako's gotta hand him the comedic timing on that one, and he snorts a genuine laugh.

What Tim says isn't unbelievable or even wholly unrelatable, either. He'd probably have liked an explanation that leaned more into keeping your fingers on the pulse of whatever's left of humanoid society, that's also an entirely understandable path to take. Hell, who started island Wal-Mart right out the gate? Busting in on day two with an ice cream social? So he doesn't find this incomprehensible.

"I gotcha. Don't wanna be the compost guy this time around, that's fair. Sounds like you got a good uh, floorplan already, for what you want." Which he'd better, because Taako wants no part of that, no thanks on the responsibility front. "So yeah, I can help out. With the lumber," he clears his throat, "And maybe like, some recipes? When the time comes. Just to make sure it's not a flop. I am a celebrity chef."

They're all in this Gilligan's nightmare together, so why sit on a bunch of information that's not even really proprietary so much as it is a hundred years experience Making It Work? "But hey. I'm sure it was good compost."

Trust is a hard commodity. What can he say? Some people earn it, and some people end up getting it unwillingly, because a Castle in the Mist saw fit to shove their souls into alignment for a day against their will, and they felt every sensation bleeding into one another.

Admitting that you're doing something for the sake of being a self-serving, information-hoarding asshole isn't the best way to start off, is what he's learned.

"As someone who lived off gas station coffee and beef jerky for weeks," says Tim, who has no idea if an elf would even know what those things are, but here we are, "I'd be pretty okay with that too."

Listen, take it from a plane-hopping wizard, everywhere has its 'gas station coffee and beef jerky' caliber food sources, and Taako has done plenty of scrounging in his life, eaten surely his share and then some of garbage, whether by choice or necessity. These days, he eats just shy of enough fish to give someone liver poisoning. Here we are, indeed.

"Great, glad to hear it," he says, with the kind of nervy inflection that only happens when he realizes how insincere he sounds, despite having no intention to be. He legitimately won't weasel out of his small part in this project, if actually called upon. Like, for real. "Why not get in on that, since I'm putting the other losers on store duty more these days anyway."

It's hard to tell if the guy is being legit, but the worst that happens is that it turns out that really was just sarcasm and Tim will have to figure out some other way to get what he needs, which is what he's been doing anyway. It's not the worst that could and has happened, and the possibility that he'll get the help at some point is worth the effort.

"Yeah, you guys are...really expanding your list of employees, huh?" Including child labor. That's classy, but he's also not hypocritical enough to say anything about it when he's the one living with two kids to help them maintain a largely unnecessary cover story.

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