I think you ought to walk with me and be safe [November Open]

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Who: Chris Freeman & ... First Aid (lovinglefthand) / Erik Osborne (lordoftheozarks) / River la Croix (somebodychildofanyone) / The Shade (deaths_head) ... & YOU!
What: catch-all, wildcard, and promised threads
When: in-game November, post-Pumpkinfest
Where: All around town
Warning(s): discussions of trauma, past deaths (in-game and backstory) are likely; probably NSFW in the Erik thread, lbr... mind the comment headers if anything else comes up.

OPEN - Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, you sure are lookin' good...
Chris happens to find the idea of seniority based on who's been on Marrow Isle the longest to be an absurd way to organize things. Dr. Winterbottom, despite her retirement, is the final authority for medical matters because she's a local and has the most experience out of all of them. Chris isn't sure exactly how to organize everyone else, but they consider themself at the bottom of the rankings, having only book learning, some experience as a medical assistant, and employment history as a coroner.

So it's not unusual to see Chris taking on the 'drudge work' -- arranging appointments for people, making home visits for follow up purposes, arranging supply contacts for 'the real doctors' to get the things their clinics need. This frees up people like Sally Boyle, First Aid, Dr. Pierce, and Dr. Watson to do the things that only they -- trained and experienced pharmacologists, doctors, and surgeons -- can do.

It's very likely to see Chris somewhere around town on an errand of some sort, or even visiting the outskirts to keep tabs on people who live away from the town center.


CLOSED to First Aid - You spent your stipend on THAT?
"You got the general store to tell you what grocery package I bought for next month?" Chris asks. They fold their arms over their chest defensively. "I'm an adult, you know. I can spend my money as I please."

The confrontation with First Aid is most likely taking place at the Winterbottom Clinic after hours. Seems that First Aid is very serious about making sure that everyone is as healthy as possible. Including their co-worker Chris.


CLOSED to Lord Erik Osborne - I promised you a fashion show...
Chris finally accepted their fate as one of Dr. Agnes Winterbottom's sucessors, and took over running her clinic at the end of October. As of November first, they've been given a small house within walking distance of said clinic, and moved their few material possessions from a room at the Oak and Iron into the house.

Chris asked Sam to deliver a letter to Erik -- and the vampire lord will find that it's an invitation to visit Chris's new home.

Part of it reads: 'Any evening that you're free, just give me a day's notice so I won't be on call that night. I promised you a little fashion show, remember?'

(Which may be enticing on its own, but this also gives Erik a chance to satisfy his curiosity about Chris's powers. Answering questions in private is usually more comfortable.)


CLOSED to River - A miracle of food engineering... (and maybe other engineering too)
Despite slightly rocky interactions -- Chris cried during their first conversation, and River accidentally sliced her fingers during their second -- Chris is actually feeling pretty good about a friendship with the head blacksmith of Infernal Arms and Armor.

And because it worked so well last time (with Sam), Chris trades in one of their last food vouchers for some savory hand pies from the Oak and Iron's kitchens. Come lunch time, they are at River's forge with a basket of food to share.

Has River been introduced to the idea of hand pies yet?

Chris also has some ideas for a bed -- an old design in their own world, not available on Marrow Isle -- that could help with post-surgical recovery. Zie wants to talk about the idea with River, and see if fabricating the parts is doable... either with her team, or from John who does less weapon-related forging.


CLOSED to The Shade - Death dad and death son go a-hunting
Both Chris and the Shade have a connection to death, something that the Shade could easily see when they met at a shooting game during Pumpkinfest. That hadn't been the right venue to get more information on using that connection to death with a weapon, as the Shade offered to teach them about... but some time in November?

Chris heads over to the Shade's place one morning, at his invitation. They've got their most sturdy shoes and sensible clothes on (no skirts or slippers today), and just their first aid kit in their ever-present bag. Chris isn't quite sure what these lessons will entail, but they are determined to be a good student.


OPEN - Wildcard
Did I promise something with Chris and forget it? It happens, my brain is a garbage fire. Feel free to toss anything at us here.

Comments

Wildcard -- Tension in the Workplace

[lovinglefthand]

[Following directly from this...]

First Aid has started mopping the exam room floor by the time Chris gets back, both the window and his own vents wide open, fans whirring to disperse the smell of bleach. It doesn't smell so bad to him, but he knows humans find it obnoxious. He sympathizes. There are certain things he finds obnoxious too.

He glances up when Chris enters the room, visor dimming. His vocalizer clicks, once, switching itself on and then off. The equivalent of someone opening their mouth only to realize they have nothing to say.

He puts his head down and keeps working.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"I caught up with Dr. Pierce at his clinic. And word around town is that a Dr. John Watson has also started offering his services. So I'm going to make another copy of our supplier lists for him, too."

Chris speaks a little faster than normal -- once again, a bid to get everything out before they can be told 'no'. But this time, they do wait for a reply from First Aid.

[lovinglefthand]

First Aid had looked up when Chris started speaking, listening attentively. He can hear the tension in their voice, but he can't quite figure out what it means. It doesn't sound like anger, he doesn't think.

"That's good," he says, looking back down at the floor. "They'll be able to operate more efficiently if they already know what we all have to work with."

Swoosh, swoosh goes the mop.

"It may be better if you handle all interactions with Doctor Pierce in the future."

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"I think so, too." Chris says. "He liked me enough to flirt with me. You, not so much."

Open

[300kgbackpack]

Chris will almost certainly have noticed Sam going about his daily routine with Way Too Much Shit strapped to his back, as well as his kid strapped to his chest. He's got slightly nicer clothes, much nicer boots, and a rope and sturdy climbing anchor attached to his belt. They will almost certainly have noticed, near the bottom of the roster, Sam's name along with an upcoming check-up with First Aid, insisted upon by the latter.

Either way, as Chris is apparently on their way out to the edge of the village where the Kaspbrak farm is situated and nearby Sam's little barely-furnished house, the local courier is on his way down the path with a delivery from things gathered from the forest, mostly firewood bound for some of the residents that aren't as able to collect it for themselves as the temperature drops. So here, have an upward nod as he heads out to be A Mailman.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Chris waves cheerfully, then turns around on the path so that they fall into step beside Sam. "You're just who I was coming out to see, Sam."

And they waggle their fingers at Lou in her baby sling. "Hello, little Lou! How do you do?" Chris asks in a bright voice -- definitely angling for a smile or a giggle.

[300kgbackpack]

Chris might be shocked about how many times he's been stopped with exactly that phrase. "What's up?" Sam asks, barely breaking stride as he slows enough for Chris to draw level with him.

Lou removes her hand from her mouth to wave it back at Chris' greeting. Her rabbit is tucked right into her sling for safekeeping.

A miracle of food engineering... (and maybe other engineering too)

[somebodychildofanyone]

Chris, you're in luck. River is late, you see, to lunch, having decided to push for a big order from Zelda for training weapons (she's leaving the materials for the training dummies for later - she fuckin' hates doing nails and hinges and all that jazz, and might pawn it off to John), and is in fact cleaning her workspace when Chris comes in. She smiles brightly when she sees her fellow "necromancer" and -

- A visible sniff. Two. Her eyes snap down to the basket.

"...'cha got there, Chrissssssssss?"

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Chris grins, holds up the basket a little more, and says, "Meat pie. In convenient, easy to hold pastry packaging. The cook at the Oak and Iron makes 'em that way if you know to ask for 'hand pies'."

They tug the cloth back so River can get a better look (and smell) of the still-warm pies. There are also two loose napkins to help with handling them.

"I also had some ideas on an adjustable bed for the clinics, but you kinda look busy with a project at the moment."

[somebodychildofanyone]

River waves the concern off immediately. "The reward for good work is more work, lay 'em out on the work table there..."

Not before she steals one of these 'hand pies' though. River stares at it with the exact same expression you might see on, say, a lumberjack from 1762 being introduced to the chainsaw.

You spent your stipend on THAT?

[lovinglefthand]

First Aid freezes for a moment, book still held in mid-air. It's after hours, and he'd been trying to stand down a little and relax before going into recharge (makes it easier to keep the nightmares at bay). Chris had left to go home -- he supposes they must have stopped at the grocery store on the way?

"I know that," he says slowly, marking his spot and putting the book down so he can give Chris his full attention. "And so can I?" He tilts his head slightly to one side.

"I'm not sure I understand why you're upset about this."

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"I'm your co-worker, not your patient!" Chris says, with a frustrated sigh. "And you asked your patient about doing it!"

[lovinglefthand]

First Aid's visor blanches for a moment in shock. "Are those really the only two options?" he asks, hurt. "I didn't want to help because you're a patient, I thought we were friends."

He admits, more quietly. "I guess I thought you'd be pleased...?" Relieved? Something positive?

[graveling]

At some point, Chris is carrying a small shitton of stuff. Medicine? Other medical supplies? Books? Boxes? Doesn’t matter what, Angel comes up alongside her and clears his throat.

“Want help?”

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"Could you get the top box? It's unbalanced!" Chris replies. It was stupid of them to try to make a records run to Town Hall all in one go, but here we are.

[graveling]

“Yeah, I got it.” Angel actually claims the top two boxes, because he can. “Where are we taking them?”

I promised you a fashion show

[lordoftheozarks]

That letter is so well-received, Erik offers a few brass as a tip to Sam if he will wait and let him write a quick reply to be delivered immediately. Sigh, this really does prove he needs to focus some of his budget on having calling cards printed soon. But this will do for now.

Chris,
I am free in two evening's time. I can't bear to wait any longer than that to come see for myself.
Sincerely yours,
Lord Osborne

It is now the appointed evening, and Erik has donned one of his finer suits to come pay Chris a visit. He knocks on the door and waits for an answer.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

The door opens a little bit, and Chris peeps through the gap. When they see that it's Erik at their door, they step back and let the door open wide enough to let him in -- though they stay mostly hidden from view the entire time. Wouldn't do to let the whole neighborhood get a peek.

"You got all dressed up for me, Lord Osborne?" Chris asks, with a little laugh.

When they close the door, and lean back against it, Erik will get a look at what they're wearing. It is indeed a little lacy thing... black lace with floral patterns, looking stark and striking against Chris's pale skin, with solid strips of fabric forming the border for the neck and front of the robe. It has short sleeves and ends just short of the knees, each with a fancy scalloped trim.

Chris doesn't seem to be wearing anything other than the robe.

[lordoftheozarks]

"It's a special occasion, isn't it?" He'd rather say that than admit his less fine suit was irreparably damaged in their duel.

His eyes widen with delight as he steps in and beholds them in their lovely lace robe. "A very special occasion. You look good enough to eat."

Dead Family Bonding

[deaths_head]

The Shade should really be working while he's waiting for Chris--he's got a couple of desks he's working on for people in town, a hope chest for a nice gal that came to him the other day...

Instead, he's on his front porch, whittling.

...well, he calls it whittling. And while whittling is something he does quite often, this?

This isn't whittling. This is a miniature that fits in his hand, roughly the size of a small doll, and while it hasn't yet been stained or sanded, the detail is startling and likely recognizable if Chris has happened to see or meet one Nieve Winslow around town.

He only planned on working for about twenty minutes but by the time he hears leaves crunching underfoot, he looks over his shoulder into his open window and flinches when he realizes it's been over an hour--and he's still not happy with the curve of the goddamn mouth.

So much so he can't quite make himself put the piece down yet. Meeting Chris's gaze, he nods in greeting and points with the knife in his hand to the chair just across from the one he's sitting in.

"Good to see ya, son! Take a load off, I'll be just two minutes...and if I ain't, smack me upside the head. Hell, help yourself to the kitchen inside if you want anything. Still gettin' the hang of hunger 'n thirst, bein' mortal and alive again, but I keep a stocked pantry anyhow in case this soul of mine shows her face. Forgets to eat so often it's a miracle it took her this long to run afoul of her own mortality, I tell you what."

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Chris met Nieve briefly at the gala, and does indeed recognize the likeness that the Shade is carving out of wood. They wonder if she's the soul that the Shade followed onto Marrow Isle, and then the Shade refers to 'this soul of mine' so Chris decides she must be.

They smile warmly at the welcome, and reply quietly, "Maybe that's why I don't eat quite as much as First Aid would like. Dead enough to forget it most times. But I'll grab something, thank you."

Chris goes inside, finds the kitchen, and grabs two apples -- one for himself, and one for Joe (just in case). Then they come back out and takes a seat in the chair that was indicated for them.

"I don't mind you calling me 'son'," Chris says, "but I'm not exactly a boy. I'm a little bit of both, and neither, so 'he' doesn't fit me right. Most folks use 'they' instead, when talking about me. I just wanted to let you know." And then they take a bite of the apple, so they have an excuse not to babble more justifications. Let Joe get a reply out before panicking.

CW: outdated possibly offensive terminology

[deaths_head]

The Shade accepts the apple with a healthy bite—because yes, he didn’t realize he was hungry. Thirsty, maybe, the two get mixed up sometimes.

Listening to Chris explain himself—themself makes the Shade uncomfortable—not with the issue but with the kid’s clear unrest. So he nods, sighs, then sets his carving aside to focus on eating.

And on the kid.

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, Chris—gender don’t have much in the way of rules among a lotta demonkind, and may not have been words for it back in my day? But all this gender ‘n sexuality business is older ‘n the both of us. So ‘don’t mind’ isn’t the same as ‘fine with.’ You’re a ‘they?’ Got it, bear with an old man while I work to switch gears. But names are power, that’s why I don’t much share mine and I don’t use ‘em too carelessly. If ‘son’ don’t fit, you got any terms of address that’re comfortable for you besides ‘kid’ or ‘friend?’”

Heart-to-Spark

[lovinglefthand]

[Following on the tail of this thread with Vika.]

"Thanks for having me over," First Aid says with a heavy sigh as he steps through Chris's front door. They haven't had time to do as much decorating as they seemed to be looking forward to, but he's hardly in a place to mind. After the trying day he's had, he's just glad to be out of the clinic. (Possibly Chris has a point about him needing his own place? Nah, he's probably just having an off day. It happens to everyone.)

[thelatechrisfreeman]

There are two armchairs in the living room, as well as a mostly empty bookcase. Since both chairs are human-scale, Chris awkwardly notes that First Aid will have to sit on the ground. When they come back from the kitchen with alcoholic drinks -- a pint glass for themself, and a larger wooden cup for their seven-foot-tall friend.

"No problem at all," Chris says. Once First Aid has a good grip on the cup, Chris moves to sit cross-legged beside him on the floor, eschewing either of the chairs. "We all need to vent sometimes. So tell me about it."

[lovinglefthand]

First Aid lets out a small sound of concern when Chris sits down on the floor, although he holds himself back from demanding they use one of the chairs instead. Trust, he's working on trust. Chris knows their own needs best.

"I'm -- ugh." He cracks open a panel on the side of his chest and gets his siphoning tube out. Chris has seen it before, so there's no embarrassment in First Aid's movements. It's just something he has to do so they can drink together. "I'm not even sure where to start," he finally begins. "You've met her, right? The new bot?"