Cecil Gershwin Palmer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lasthumanvoice) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2024-03-20 09:45 pm
lasthumanvoice) wrote in ph_logs2024-03-20 09:45 pm
[OPEN] His Mission, the Transmission of Technology
1. He stood upon the last bastions of the place [Time Off Work]
Cecil has, at Gerry's suggestion, taken a few days off from working as Yorick's right hand, the Community Radio Host and the reporter for the Gazette. The process was much easier than requesting time off from Station Management and dealing with their eldritch wrath. So, with some time off, he's going to of course spend some time working with Elias on learning magic and poking at the matter of Lot 37.
But first, he's going to climb some trees.
Perhaps you're in the Festival Green, or out in the forest near town, or even out in Paradesium, when you hear the grunts of a full grown man shimmying up a tree, or see him lose a shoe in the process. Or you look up and notice there's just an impish redhead in a branch above you. Wave hello, he's waving at you!
2. Looked out on the ruins with thunder in his face [Chaos Magic Training Mishap]
The spell had apparently failed, when he cast it with Elias. It was a simple transportation spell, and it had had no effect at the time. But it had, in fact, settled lightly on Cecil, waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
KERCHOO!
As Cecil lets out a sneeze (thank you, seasonal allergies), he teleports sixty feet within line of sight, in a manner that some might identify as similar to a misty step. Perhaps he's just landed on your table at one of the cafes with sidewalk seating. Perhaps you were talking to him and now he's over there. Perhaps you now have a bewildered radio host sniffling on your balcony.
Whoops!
3. An introverted spectacle in the flowers on the rocks [Community Project]
Once Cecil returns to Town Hall for work, he begins a new project, inspired by the success of the Potluck. If you're an offworlder in the Town Hall part of town (to include the Library and Festival Green) for any reason, you might get a journalist running up with a notepad.
"Hi, hello, hi, sorry to interrupt your whatever-you're-doing, but I just wanted to ask if I could have a recipe from your homeworld for a project I'm working on. Bonus points if it's something that could be created with the ingredients on hand here!"
Even if you're in the Library, he's at full Cecil enthusiasm here, his smile bright and chipper and insistent.
4. The daisies on the ramparts blowing free [Wildcard]
Come at me at darkersolstice on discord
Cecil has, at Gerry's suggestion, taken a few days off from working as Yorick's right hand, the Community Radio Host and the reporter for the Gazette. The process was much easier than requesting time off from Station Management and dealing with their eldritch wrath. So, with some time off, he's going to of course spend some time working with Elias on learning magic and poking at the matter of Lot 37.
But first, he's going to climb some trees.
Perhaps you're in the Festival Green, or out in the forest near town, or even out in Paradesium, when you hear the grunts of a full grown man shimmying up a tree, or see him lose a shoe in the process. Or you look up and notice there's just an impish redhead in a branch above you. Wave hello, he's waving at you!
2. Looked out on the ruins with thunder in his face [Chaos Magic Training Mishap]
The spell had apparently failed, when he cast it with Elias. It was a simple transportation spell, and it had had no effect at the time. But it had, in fact, settled lightly on Cecil, waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
KERCHOO!
As Cecil lets out a sneeze (thank you, seasonal allergies), he teleports sixty feet within line of sight, in a manner that some might identify as similar to a misty step. Perhaps he's just landed on your table at one of the cafes with sidewalk seating. Perhaps you were talking to him and now he's over there. Perhaps you now have a bewildered radio host sniffling on your balcony.
Whoops!
3. An introverted spectacle in the flowers on the rocks [Community Project]
Once Cecil returns to Town Hall for work, he begins a new project, inspired by the success of the Potluck. If you're an offworlder in the Town Hall part of town (to include the Library and Festival Green) for any reason, you might get a journalist running up with a notepad.
"Hi, hello, hi, sorry to interrupt your whatever-you're-doing, but I just wanted to ask if I could have a recipe from your homeworld for a project I'm working on. Bonus points if it's something that could be created with the ingredients on hand here!"
Even if you're in the Library, he's at full Cecil enthusiasm here, his smile bright and chipper and insistent.
4. The daisies on the ramparts blowing free [Wildcard]
Come at me at darkersolstice on discord
Community Project
It's just that he's not used to staying in one place for so long--keeps looking over his shoulder, planning for his next escape. He doesn't have to do that anymore, and that's harder to remember than he wishes it were. This is something he's wanted for so long...
...even if it's not real. It's not the home he's been searching for, but--but it could still be something good. He can do good while he's here.
He's just going to the library to read, to soothe his nerves, when the strange red-headed man rushes up to him with an inquiry that...confuses him, just a little.
"Aren't recipes for the preparation of foodstuffs?" Jarod asks uncertainly. "What other project could you be undertaking that would require their aggregation?"
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“A cultural exchange of culinary practices—that’s really a very clever idea!” He agrees with a sunny smile. “It’s a highly effective means of assimilation into new environments. I’d love to contribute!”
He opens his mouth, then closes it as his entire expression falls with sorrow. It hits him, so hard it’s almost hard to breathe—how little he can share with others like this because he doesn’t have it.
“Except…I’m afraid I don’t have any dishes to contribute.” He sighs, crestfallen. “I don’t have anything of cultural significance to share—I don’t know where I come from.”
…then again, maybe this world might better appreciate…
“…although I was raised on an optimized nutritional supplement.” He continues hesitantly, biting his lower lip as he starts ticking off the ingredients on his fingers. “Hearts of palm, wheat grass, and asparagus stewed with tomato.”
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Cecil is at least savvy enough not to directly state how unpleasant 'optimized nutritional supplement' sounds.
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“Chicken…noodle soup?…”
If it’s as good as Pez, Cheez Whiz, and Spam? It’ll be an easy sell.
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Cecil's eyes dance with dreams of sugar plums now.
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"Well, that would be wonderful! I've found that food has been a marvelous point of access when it comes to understanding the world around me--and there's so many interesting types." he replies eagerly. "Have you ever tried PEZ? Or ice cream? Or donuts? I've also very much enjoyed spam..."
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He hesitates, then smiles hopefully.
"Say, maybe you could help me with something I've been curious about: have you ever eaten in an establishment known as a 'diner?' There's this fascinating phenomenon called the, uh...'blue plate special,' but the various patterns and colorings of the serving dishes are very rarely blue. Do you know why they call it that if...well, if the plate itself is not blue?"
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"A vestigial linguistic holdover--fascinating." he breathes. That, paired with this man's insistence that he feed himself properly...well, Jarod finds that he likes him. He's incredibly kind.
Offering his hand, his small smile blooms into a grin.
"My name is Jarod, by the way--I appreciate your help, and it's really nice to meet you. If you like, I could ask other people about their own recipes--direct them back to you to help with your search, Mr.?..."
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