you see me now, a veteran, of a thousand psychic wars [Open]

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Who: Chris Freeman & Anyone... perhaps even... YOU?
What: Did I hear you say that this is victory?
When: February and maybe March
Where: around town...
Warning: watch the comment titles

Thread starters in comments this time around. If you have an idea for Chris, feel free to top-level comment this entry with a wildcard :)

2/8: Reposted opener regarding Calloway's Curios for theresalwaystheview

2/12: Chris has a little breakdown, and Erik overhears lordoftheozarks

2/18: New prompt, open to all, regarding Chris being sick around the time of Merrymeet.

Comments

For Bart

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Chris About Town
As one of Sam's network of baby-sitters, Chris can sometimes be seen making the rounds for house-calls or even just walking around town with little Lou strapped to their chest. (The baby sling in question is a patchwork of linen. Chris has been doing cleaning and mending of donations for the secondhand clothing shop, and taking payment in the unsellable pieces. Then they cut out any stained bits and used the remaining fabric to sew up a sling.) Keeps their hands free and allows Lou to get a good look at the world around her, just like she's used to.

You may run across Chris and Lou in the residential areas, as Chris figures out where a new patient lives. You might find the pair walking to a trolley stop to range further afield. You might even find them in Winterbottom Clinic, with Lou studying a patient file that Chris is working on, like she knows what's going on -- gumming at her rabbit plush all the while.

The most interesting time you may run into Chris and Lou, though, is when they heading toward Gil Calloway's shop. Chris has a folded note in one hand and is marching determinedly up to that door. Feel like intercepting them?

[theresalwaystheview]

As much as he's on his feet, Sam is of course pleased to have others that are dedicated to helping him take care of Lou when he knows he can't take her out with him nearly as much as he once did by necessity. It's a good thing, he tells himself and sometimes insists to her, that he doesn't constantly need her to be able to navigate the world. A weird adjustment, but he's getting used to it.

This means that while Chris is on their way to Calloway's Curios at the same time that Bart is headed that direction with the intention of sourcing whatever odd miscellaneous materials he can find for his latest project with Tarantulas, he's momentarily waylaid just to greet the infant that just boggles up at him and babbles back when he greets her, then Chris, upon realizing that they're both headed the same direction.

"You've got business here too?" It's an awkward lead-in to conversation, sure, but he would like to be able to convince Chris that he's worth the time and energy.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"Agga blat," Lou 'says' seriously, for all that it doesn't seem to mean anything aside from baby babble. Chris gives her little hat a tug, making sure it covers the tips of her ears to protect them from the cold.

"In a way, yes," Chris answers briefly. They seem temporarily stymied with one hand on Lou and one hand holding the note -- they're short a hand, needed to open the door to the shop. Feel up to offering one, Bart?

[theresalwaystheview]

"Indeed," he replies to Lou, already moving to hold the door open without thinking about it.

Looking back at Chris, he holds a hand out to help them in if necessary. "What are you looking for? I'm probably going to be going through everything trying to find things that I can deconstruct for parts," he admits as they move between aisles.

a WILDCARD appears

[cacophonish]

Knock knock, Chris. There's a bard dropping by unannounced. Does he have some weird butterflies in his stomach because of a lingering crush brought on by a weird fucking dream?

No, don't be ridiculous!!

He's just here because he's a huge nerd for magic and occult shit, and Chris mentioned not having anyone to teach or guide them back home. That's all. Jeff's fine and cool and just here in a professional witchy capacity or whatever.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

When Chris opens their front door, the smell of fresh-baked bread accompanies them. They give Jeff a small smile and say, "Oh, hello, Jeff. Come in, come in... I'm in the middle of baking."

Here's the thing, whenever Chris gets some free time these days, they can usually be found at some stage of baking bread (with the occasional batch of muffins, sweet rolls, or cookies thrown in) as a famine mitigation measure. Chris walks back toward the kitchen, and waves a hand to a covered basket.

"Grab yourself a roll if you're hungry."

[cacophonish]

Is there anything better than the smell of fresh-baked bread?

Sure, probably, maybe, but is there anything better than the smell of fresh-baked bread while you're currently breathing it in? Absolutely not. When it happens, it's the best feeling in the world.

"Oh, thanks, but I'm not hun--" Jeff peeks in the basket. Fuck, those rolls look good. "Oh my god, they're still warm. You made these?"

(Like yes, Jeff, obviously they made the rolls. They just said they were baking.)

Okay, he's going to have one.

"This is so cool, I mean, that you can do all this. I never could. Yeast is, um, fucking... intimidating..."

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"Yep," Chris responds to the question regardless. "I've got a little butter, too. Help yourself." And that's a gesture toward the covered butter dish, and the butter knife next to it.

Chris smiles at the compliment, then says, "I had to practice, but once I figured out a good temperature for the water -- so it won't kill the yeast off -- it got easier. I can start a new batch and teach you? This is all to go with the community soup at the Oak and Iron, anyway."

Help I'm Alive [locked to Erik]

[thelatechrisfreeman]

my heart keeps beating like a hammer

[ Set after this thread where Chris has to, yet again, clean up a mess made by Vika. ]

Chris trudges home after their clinic shift, hands stuffed into the rabbit fur muff that Angel got them for Givingstide, half their face hidden by a scarf... brow furrowed and eyes cold, so much so that nobody says a word once they get a look at what they can see of Chris's expression. Better to be safe on that front.

They go in through the side door of their home, allowing one hard, angry slam to close it -- then lock it behind them. And instead of going to the fire or falling into bed, Chris opens the door to the cellar, descends the stairs...

and curls up on the packed-earth floor of the cellar and starts sobbing.

[lordoftheozarks]

Erik does his best to tune out the various noises of the daily town life. He longs for the luxury of soundproofing he once had in his mansion. But, that doesn't mean he hasn't kept his ear perked up for certain people. The door slamming already has him on alert, but then he hears Chris crying. No. Sobbing.

He doesn't even pause to consider if it's his place to come running. He's already out the door before rational thought catches up to him at all. Their door is locked, but that's not truly a barrier to him. "I'll buy a new one," he promises under his breath as he quickly snaps the knob clean off. The hardware drops to the ground with a loud klunk, their broken pieces forgotten in his rush to get to the basement.

"Chris, what's happened?" He smells a hint of their blood, and it's fresh. He wants to turn his love over and check for injuries, but that seems like too much intrusion on top of breaking into their home already. So, he kneels at their side, hands hovering. "It's Erik. I'm here."

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"It's... s-stupid... d-didn't even get hurt..." Chris tries to stop crying, and of course that has the opposite effect. They wail, "She hurts everybody I care about!"

This is not helping, Chris. This is probably going to make things worse.

They reach out for Erik, clinging to his knees, and basically plant their face against one thigh and keep crying. At least at this point, Erik will be able to see the single bandaged finger on Chris's right hand -- and know where that fresh blood smell is coming from.

[lordoftheozarks]

The bandage brings a swell of relief. All right, so that was probably only an accidental injury. He resists the urge to offer his blood to heal it. Just a cut. It can stand. Chris would prefer it that way, he's sure. With that concern assuaged, he focuses on the true source of their pain, the emotional overwhelm.

"No, Chris. No. This isn't stupid." He slides his fingers into their hair, gently stroking their scalp in soothing circles. "I don't yet know who or what you mean, but I know how deeply you care for your friends and if someone is hurting them, I want to help."

What Was That About Stress and the Immune System?

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Don't let these shakes go on / It's time we had a break from it

It's a combination of factors that has Chris Freeman laid up with the flu right around the time for Merrymeet. The famine conditions, for all that they are improving now, weakened Chris -- and the stress of dealing the famine and the ongoing tide of wounded from fighting the star-beasts -- and interpersonal stressors all made it so that their immune system was in bad shape. And then they went and paid a personal visit to Dahlia and had a meal and gossip session with her.

The fact that Chris caught her flu and it got quite a grip on them isn't a surprise.

So you might find them in bed (where they ought to be) reading a book, or stretched out on the sofa in front of the fireplace or tending to the fire (which they ought not be doing). Their baking efforts are, naturally, suspended for the moment.

Regardless, they've fashioned a cloth mask that those who lived through a particular pandemic might find familiar, and are wearing it whenever a visitor comes by.

"I already died of a respiratory infection once, and it sucked. Don't need it going around to anybody else."

sometimes FA really hates being right...

[lovinglefthand]

"Y-you did?" First Aid asks, startled. This is news to him, of the unpleasant sort. But he's here to cheer Chris up, not drag them further down, so he nods and rallies, saying, "I'm glad you know what to do," before lifting the large basket in his hands. "Care package?"

It's clear that this is meant to be a pre-party drop-off; he went and got repainted yesterday, in fresh white and a reddish-brown like wood, to better match his flourishing moss and a bumper crop of spring flowers, and now he's also freshly polished and gleaming. But from the basket comes a warm, homely smell: soup and freshly-baked muffins that notably, contain no sweet potato whatsoever. He wants Chris to eat and feel better, and he knows everyone is getting a little tired of the yams by now.

When Chris opens the basket, they'll also find a carefully-braided if somewhat amateurish corsage, made from daffodils and snowdrops.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"Yes. A new coronavirus disease develops in November 2019, and it's similar to the virus that led to the SARS outbreak in 2003. But the pandemic spreads globally. We didn't have enough knowledge or even PPE to contain it... we resorted to lockdown measures." Chris trails off. (It's entirely possible that they phrased it this way as a warning for when First Aid goes home. With slightly more than a decade of time to prepare, maybe things will go differently for that universe.)

"Anyway," Chris gives themself a little shake, and accepts the basket from First Aid. "Let's not talk about that for now. I can give you more details later, when there's not a party going on! I like your new paint job, by the way."

First Aid should be able to tell that Chris is smiling, even with their mouth hidden, by the way that their eyes crinkle at the corners. (Of course Chris is masking even around First Aid -- wouldn't do to have his younger brother spread the sickness like a carrier.)

Then Chris opens the basket, and sees the braided corsage sitting on top of the food. Their voice wobbles a little, overcome with emotion, as they say, "Oh, Aidie... it's beautiful..."

[lovinglefthand]

"Oh geez." First Aid immediately catches onto what Chris is eluding too, and he is Concerned(tm). "I'm definitely going to want to pick your brain about that later, but for now just relax and focus on healing, okay?"

His voice warms at the compliment ("Thank you!" he says, visor bright) and even more at Chris's reaction. "It's for you," he says, maybe a little redundantly, and carefully puts his arms around Chris. "I know you didn't want a nomination, and that's okay. But in my spark, you deserve a seat at that table. You're inspirational, Chris."

Re: What Was That About Stress and the Immune System?

[graphomaniac]

Lev/Lyubov hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Chris at the community gathering, so they put their work-skills to use, asked around and found out where Chris stays. And now hearing that she's sick, they've taken the initiative to bring raspberry jam and some nice leaf tea, and a little jar of honey. They decided not to risk milk or anything else that might provoke an allergy ... well, besides the fruit jam and the honey. That's why the tea: back-up.

They don't question the mask; while they never lived through that pandemic, their own world had had a tuberculosis epidemic just a few years ago.

"My husband is a doctor," they say to Chris's explanation. "I know that when all else goes well, it's pneumonia what takes the old in their sleep."

They hold out the canvas bag with the tea and the jars, and say, by way of an introduction, "I'm Lev, or Lyubov. We two talked to each other by that strange dream, in a manner none have talked to me here, but a manner common by where I was born. And I wished to meet thee in the waking world, but ... didn't get the chance 'til now. Anyway, uh, like—" they shuffle their feet, awkwardly. "I hope thou'rt not allergic to pollen nor fruit, but if thou art, there's tea, as well. I had hoped we could talk?"

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"Ah..." Chris looks abashed at the reminder of the dream, and their meeting with 'Lark'. "I'm sorry to say... I don't know sign language in the waking world. I only remembered a few signs upon waking up..."

As a demonstration, they sign |Hello!| to their guest.

"I'm willing to learn, though. And... no, I'm not allergic to pollen or fruit. Would you like to sit?" Chris gestures over to the armchairs by the fire, with the small table between them.

The offer is a bit mixed up -- one of them has to make the tea first, right? But the sickness has Chris pretty wrung out. At least there's a tea kettle sitting next to the kitchen stove, easily visible to the left of the front door because of the house's open floor plan. So it won't be hard to figure out how to get the tea made.

[graphomaniac]

Lev/Lyubov smiles at Chris, sets down the bag and signs back, |Hello!|

"It was still a pleasure to make thy acquaintance in the dream," they say, perching on the arm of one of the armchairs to catch their breath. "So nu, I heard thou wert sick, and had a mind to pay thee a visit." They don't add anything about visitation of the sick, though that's a big part of their motivation—unable to fulfill most of the instruction that has structured their days for most of their life, they've been feeling untethered. And some small part of them still holds by the idea that picking up a mitzva is the best way to fix something completely unrelated in one's life, especially something that's out of direct mortal control.

While they talk, Lev's looking around the place; once they spot the kettle, they get up to fetch it and start making tea.

And since they find it helps to concentrate if they're talking, and being spoken to, they ask, "but nu, like, the dream. Is that kind of thing common, here? I have walked in the Silver in dreams, but never like that. Never, like. As one other than myself, without no choice by me to play a part."

[lordoftheozarks]

"No need to worry about passing it to me," Erik answers as he quickly strides forward to gently take the fire stoker from their hand.

"Let me help with that. You should be in bed."

As promised in his note, he's arrived later in the day following the festivities of Merrymeet, still wearing his floral suit. It was certainly an eventful party. He's looking forward to catching Chris up on the many points of gossip he has to share.

"I brought you a bundle of flowers to brighten your sick bed. Shall I fetch some water for them?"

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"...'M cold," Chris says, with a pout, but they relinquish the fire stoker when Erik goes to take it. They look pretty flushed, but chills are a common feature when running a fever.

Chris sits down in one of the armchairs, looking weary, and just watches Erik build up the fire for a little bit. "Mm? Can I hold the flowers first? While you get water for them. And maybe I should have more water, too..."

They've been absent-minded all day, as a side effect of being sick. But a visitor will help their focus, and a dear friend like Erik? Definitely someone Chris wants to focus on.

[lordoftheozarks]

"You feel very hot," Erik comments, lightly laying his hand against their cheek. The difference in temperature between his stone-cold hand and their fevered skin is like night and day. He stacks more wood in the, not wanting to leave them shivering, before he goes to fetch the flower bundle he set aside on their table.

"Here. I don't know if you can smell them in your condition but they make a lovely nosegay," he says as he places them on their lap.

"Water and perhaps a little something to eat? When did you last have something?" Mother hen mode has been activated. Time to get cared for.

Special delivery: meds and hot drink

[300kgbackpack]

It's a hard habit to break, standing outside until he's got full and proper permission to come in. One might think he's a vampire thanks to his reticence. Unfortunately for him and his sensibilities though, Chris is laid up and he doesn't really want to make them actually get up to answer the door when it's freezing out.

"Hey Freeman," he calls about as loud as he dares into the house as he knocks the snow off his boots against the doorjamb. His pack gets left just inside after he's dug out a carefully tied package to hand over.

[thelatechrisfreeman]

"Hhuzzagh?" Chris croaks from their spot on the couch.

(Best guess, that was meant to be "Who's there?")

It takes a moment for Chris to get more upright, clinging to the back of the sofa for support. Their eyes widen when they see Sam, and they hurry to grab their cloth mask... flopping back onto the couch cushions as they release their grip.

"Jus'a second! Lemme mask!" They say, and it's a good thing that they do -- a round of coughs rattles out from behind that mask moments after they get it in place.

"Sam, come in," Chris wheezes, "Close th' door."

[300kgbackpack]

Jesus, Chris sounds like they're dying...

"Nah, stay put," Sam calls back, unsure whether Chris would need to actually get up and move to find their mask for it and unwilling to make them do it. He unpacks the order that he'd brought rather than putting it aside for Chris to take care of later, and heads for the kitchen to start boiling some water for tea. Better than just sitting around awkwardly and waiting for his friend to do it themself.

"You sound like shit," he quips without turning around.