lifeaftr | CLOTHING ADVENTURES

CLOTHING ADVENTURES

Who: Anyone! Everyone!
What: Clothes were requested. Clothes are now granted.
When: morning of the 22nd initially
Where: meet me at the room that's literally filled to the brim with clothing in 15 minutes
Warnings: It's just clothes, what could possibly go wrong!
Notes: Everyone gets free clothes whether they participated in the actual request or not. CLOTHES FOR THE ENTIRE ISLAND.

There's a room in the Storyteller's temple; it was once empty, and now it's...not. It is, in fact, full of clothing of all sorts, to the point that it might be slightly difficult to find exactly what you're looking for.

Oh well. It's there now, no takebacks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

So a typical Thursday...

[That wry expression. Easy isn't really something that their lives have tended to be. Their own choices and consequences from all actions will always be there with them. Dinosaurs at least would be something that Carolina does have experience with. Not that she's going to try to pull a Caboose on them...]

We'll make it work, Wash, just like we'll make these clothes work.

I know. It's not...us I'm worried about.

[There are a lot of people here. A lot of people that he can't help but feel, tangentially, responsible for, because he's a soldier and that's a soldier's job - to keep an eye out for civilians. That's why you agree to fight. You keep the frontlines so no one else has to live the horror of seeing their planet glassed.]

[There is that light stillness to her, although that sharpness remains within her green eyes as their depths settle on him, more focused. She doesn't need to be a mind reader, can guess where his own mind goes with that.

The good guys.

She'd once thought that was exactly what they were, had never questioned it too deeply. Follow orders, get the objective, make it back. It had seemed easy enough, simple enough, just soldiers doing what soldiers were trained to do.

Yet her gaze is cast away, moving across those who have come here in search of attire as well.]

The people here do seem to be varied.

Feels too much like Chorus.

[Too many people who didn't agree to this, who didn't want to be ensnared in a conflict, and too many of them are painfully...young. But even on Chorus, none of them were this young.]

There's kids here, Carolina.

By themselves.

[Half statement, half question.

Not that it is any better if they are here with a parent or a guardian, but at least it would be someone to look out for the interests, to ensure that they didn't slip through the cracks.]

You have to wonder what they were thinking.

[Those who brought them here.]

I hope they've got enough self-reflection to think about what they've done.

[He can't argue with the fact that people like him ended up here; he's inextricably drawn into adventure after adventure despite his best efforts. But when it's kids, it's - it's always different.]

[They didn't ask for this.]

Depends what they're really like.

[Because they just might not care, ever.

Her mind turns to Sharkface, pausing there, as she thinks about the people who end up here. If he ever showed up... She'd given him chances to stop, not wanting to hurt him, let alone kill him, yet it hadn't mattered in the end. He had been driven, just like she had once been, and he hadn't cared.

Turning her eyes again, she seeks out faces. In some ways, it's hard to guess ages. She's mid-thirties but at times feels like she's double that.]

I take it they're more or less in the same boat we are?

[Those who are younger...]

I guess you could say that. At least one of them knows how to operate military-grade explosives, so that's where we are now.

[Which, while a fundamentally distressing aside, is not one he took any time to grapple with; it hadn't been necessary in the moment, and getting upset over it wasn't going to accomplish anything.]

[Now, though.]

[How many children here know how to fight? How many carry weapons? How many have already learned to attack first, and ask questions later?]

[ . . . ]

A skill they learned where they came from?

[Or here? Although here seems less likely, given the state of affairs. Which... Neither is the proper answer, but Carolina has to wonder at a world where kids have access to military-grade explosives, let alone someone to teach them.

Or least she hopes it was taught and not by trial and error. That could well be worse. Not that any of the situations are better than the other. Yet she shakes her head.]

Have to wonder where these kids come from.

Apparently. Got a hell of a half-assed tutorial, but I'm not sure if teaching them more about bombs crosses some kind of ethical boundary at this point. Probably best if they don't blow themselves or anyone else up unless they mean to, right?

[Not that he doesn't lower ethical standards basically wherever he goes. He should also maybe work on talking about this in a less flip tone, like it ain't no thing.]

Homes just like ours, presumably.

[No, she can say that teaching kids more about weapons isn't in her game plan. Teaching them to survive or defend themselves? Possibly. One doesn't need to fight for that, just know how best to get out of a situation.]

Mn. You'd think some places might learn to do it better.

You'd think, but I'm learning it's best not to assume.

[Everyone here is, as he's come to understand it, pretty fucked up.]

Genocide is a multiversal constant. Who knew?

[Assuming makes an ass out of you and me.

The saying turns around in her head, but there's nothing she can do for other places.]

Best to focus on what we can do here.

So. Shopping?

[He picks up what looks like might have meant to be a pink sleep mask, considers that Donut would've probably personally adored it, and quickly discards it.]

That's the most "in the moment" think we've got going on right now.

[Right. Shopping. She'd all but forgotten. Although does it really constitute as shopping?

She might, just might, give a little choked cough at the pink number he has, and discards.]

Not keeping that? The pink brings out the blond in your hair.

[How she manages to keep a straight face with that, she doesn't know, but she does. Dead serious. At least for a moment, until she's moving on.]

Strange to think about. No armies fighting each other. No rogue mercenaries. No missing tech... Just- shopping.

They actually have fresh fruit here. It's just...weird to think about.

[He used to smuggle fruit from the mess into his locker, on the Invention. It had been a rarity, being able to afford fruit at all, and he'd taken full advantage of it. After years of once again getting used to basics, to M.R.E.s and intravenous rations and eating as a purely utilitarian function, something as simple as prepared meals felt like a luxury.]

[Maybe not to anyone else here.]

So long as you actually take your helmet off to eat it.

[But, that is good. Even with the strangely names restuarant that Carolina has yet to visit, it's good that there are alternate sources. Still... She'll have to look at supplies and what can be easily stored. She'd rather be prepared than not.]

Nothing strange about it though, is there? It's not going to talk to me if I take a bite out of it?

Talk to you.

[THAT'S....CONCERNING...AS A FIRST ASSUMPTION...]

I think the only concern is that some stuff is poisonous. But. Uh. Why do you think anything is going to talk to you?

Uh. Hello. Talking dream rabbit? Talking spider?

[Poison she can deal with. Poison is normal.]

I don't want to know if you've tried taking bites out of spiders. I don't think I ever want to know.

["Rabbit" is a little more reasonable, but...deity, supposedly? God, he doesn't want to think about this. He is making a command decision to stop thinking about it.]

I haven't.

[Dryly. At least not to the best of her knowledge and belief. That isn't the point she had been trying to make though. Rather, that this place has all sorts of strange things in it, like talking animals, which is not normal. Why wouldn't there be something odd about the fruit?]

I don't think you have to worry about that here. You get stuff like blue milk, but it tastes like normal milk if you ignore the color.

[Still better than most M.R.E.s, in his humble opinion.]

[Blue milk... Cow milk? Naturally blue? Is it actually even milk?

You know, she doesn't want to know where it comes from. She really needs to look at Denny and see what is on the menu. Heck, just look around more in general. She's gotten some of the lay of the land, but no where near enough.]

Good to know, even if the thought of blue milk is a bit off putting.

And the fact that it's milked from...these things with horns? The look like moose, but they're not moose, and they're also bright teal.

[They're actually literally teal deer, and thank god that Wash doesn't have the requisite knowledge of lingo to understand that reverence.]

[There is so much about that whole sentence that just sounds so wrong...]

Elk? Deer? ... Caribou?

[If it's something else, she has no idea what. None of them are exactly standard milking animals. Or, is it some huge goat that he's talking about?]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject