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

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?

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.

"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?

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.

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."

"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.

"I'm hoping I don't find what I'm looking for. It would invite even more trouble to this place."

That's Chris, always with the mysterious bullshit. Feel free to make them elaborate on that topic.

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..."

"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."

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.

Edited 2024-02-12 23:11 (UTC)

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."

"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.

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."

With that circular pattern of touch, Erik might noticed that he keeps coming across a scar along the back of Chris's head. It's completely hidden by their hair, so there would be no option to see it -- but if Erik traces the scar tissue, he'll find it's a long, branching shape. Another one of Chris's death scars.

Chris tries to get the weeping under control, and resorts to an inelegant and unattractive snort and cough to swallow the tears back.

"Vika," Chris snarls. "First Aid would never send her away from the clinic, and he's the only one who can help her. She's another robot. She killed one of the new arrivals when she met him, because she saw César as a threat. And then she carried his head to the clinic to show it to First Aid. And I'm dealing with César's ghost and then First Aid comes in with César's head because Vika traumatized him. So I had to handle them both and clean up her damn mess."

Chris lifts a hand and scrubs under one eye. "Even when she does something good, like saving people working in the mine during the earthquake, she's got some problem with people seeing her that way, so I had to reason her through that. And... and Bart... I saw him as a ghost, and he says he got killed by the Pine Devil. Which was right around the time that we thought the Pine Devil was killed for good. And who did that? Vika again! Bart's only nineteen. We're all dumbass kids still at nineteen, and he didn't deserve to die, even if was to stop the Pine Devil. Which it fucking didn't!"

Chris sniffles and swallows hard. "And then, tonight..." a fresh wave of tears overwhelms them, and they can't get the words out right then.

"You're...being vigilant for something unfortunate from your world then?" Well, that's ominous, and the look he gives Chris clearly says as much.

"That's right. The last thing we need is attention from Apokolips."

He's actively fighting the urge not to trace the line of that scar on their head, to try and ascertain more about it, but right now is the worst possible time to draw attention to that so he continued the movement with no hesitation, pretending not to notice.

As they try to stem their crying, he moves in closer to support more of their weight against him, adjusting his hands down to hold them around the shoulders instead.

"Vika... I have heard that name come up before but I have yet to meet her myself." And now he is thinking that could be a good thing. So much violence, and so little of it necessary. He burns to confront this robot woman, but what would Chris think of that? No, he can't. He can't cause any more grief for his poor love. Not after they have already been forced to clean up so many messes. He can't and won't do that to them.

They break down into more crying and he immediately begins rubbing their arms up and down. "I'm listening, Chris, I'm here. Take all the time you need."

A nod. "Even without the context, anything called Apokolips sounds like something to be avoided. Any idea what you're looking for? Would it be something only you can see?"

Chris is easy to move, and when Erik puts his arms around their shoulders, they lean into him. One hand comes up to cling to Erik's shirt.

As Erik reassures them, Chris gives a miserable little nod of acknowledgement.

"First Aid, he's... he's my brother. I chose to be... be like his older sibling." Chris sniffles. "He and Vika... they argue a lot. He's a pacifist, and she doesn't believe in that. But she... she depends on him to help her install new parts..."

Chris takes a breath. "They argued again, and Aidie... he says he was pushing her buttons, but God only knows what about... it made her angry and she punched him in the face. Vika broke his visor and blinded him. His visor is his eyes. She brought him to the clinic for help. He called it an accident but she... she insulted him again and I just... lost it."

"I know what I'm looking for, and I put the details in the note," Chris gestures a bit with the folded note. "Basically I want to let Calloway and his salvage crew to know when to get rid of this shit. 'Throw directly back into the ocean' or whatever. I don't care as long as it doesn't get Darkseid sniffing around the place."

Chris tucks the note into a pocket and puts his hands over Lou's ears so she can't hear the next bit (specifically the cursing).

"There's a version of Earth that got fucked comin' an' goin' because it became the focus of Darkseid's attention. The planet Apokolips was teleported into the same space occupied by the Moon and... well, the Moon exploded. Not a good time to be sensitive to death, what with multiple extinction events going on in succession." Chris lowers his hands again.

[[ OOC: So Vonn, why did it take nearly eleven years of real time for Eternity to show up in comics again? / I don't know, but if you want an in-universe reason let's say his brain got fried by the events of 'Earth-2: World's End' because reading that book sure fried mine. ]]

While he may not explicitly understand what they might be looking for, he does understand caution, and merely nods. He would likely be the same way if anyone came along with reports bearing even a vague resemblance to the thing that had ended his life out in the water.

"Understood," is all he says to that, before turning his attention back to the selection of peculiar trinkets lining Calloway's shelves. There's a muted sort of horror on his face at Chris' explanation of the extinction-level catastrophe they were forced to experience. It would be awful for anyone, he's sure, but to someone sensitive explicitly to the dead, it would be an absolute nightmare.

"This place must be...very loud for you," he muses, looking pensive.

[[Honestly that's fuckin valid.]]

"Less than you might think," Chris replies. "The Mothers, in their mercy, seem to have dampened my sense of it... or maybe it has something to do with no one staying dead."

"Dah pleh! Uh bah bah ma," Lou interjects. She's reaching for a display of blood fruit. Chris turns away from it, and reaches into Lou's bag for one of her frozen fruit teethers.

"That's not a good one for you, Lou-Lou," Chris says. They hand her the fruit and tells her, "Here's yours."

Lou looks up at Chris with a skeptical sort of look, but accepts the frozen treat. After a moment of study, Lou clearly recognizes the fruit teether and jams it into her mouth.

To Bart, Chris says, "Places like this, you usually find the really good stuff in the back. And by 'good' I mean 'unusual'. Wanna head that way?"

Jeff looks at his roll, then glances down at the butter dish. Is he going to turn down butter?

Fuck no, never. Even Jeff has enough sense to know that butter and hot bread, fresh from the oven, is a divine pairing, one that must be savored at any and every opportunity. He helps himself to a nice little spreading of it and takes a bite--

"Man--" Don't talk with your mouth full, Jeff! He swallows. "It's like-- Fucking classic." He grins at Chris. "You're really good at this. You could do it professionally!"

Look, Jeff's not blowing smoke up their ass. He just thinks baking from scratch is really dauntingly difficult and it's fucking impressive! Though, at the offer of teaching, Jeff...

Well, he doesn't shrink or shy away, really. He tries to keep his usual combo of laid-back-but-anxious-but-also-floaty-and-ditzy-and-sometimes-childishly-excitable going undisturbed, but there's a stirring of some insecurity just below the surface.

"I wouldn't mind watching, but I, uh, I don't know if I'd be any, um, good at learning, I mean, you should see how fucked up the candy can get when I work on it." But it's fine, it's no big, it's cool, he's cool. He's fine sucking at everything that isn't performing magic or strumming a guitar.

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."

"You can watch if you'd rather," Chris says easily. "But it's pretty simple, and I think you could learn if you wanted to. It's not nearly as complex as candy, that's for sure!"

Chris smiles warmly at Jeff. They recognize the insecurity, but also the defense mechanism to hide it, so they aren't going to call attention to it overtly.

"I thought you were all about music, though... I would assume you'd take a job as an entertainer, not a candy-maker." (Consider that an opening to tell Chris how Jeff got into that position!)

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

For Bart

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a WILDCARD appears

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Help I'm Alive [locked to Erik]

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What Was That About Stress and the Immune System?

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