fever. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
abhorrently) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2024-03-31 01:51 am
abhorrently) wrote in ph_logs2024-03-31 01:51 am
(open) and these thoughts are in my head
Who: Fever & open
What: Settling into the town in varied ways.
When: Second half of March/early part of April.
Where: Varied locations - see prompts.
Warning(s): Likely intrusive murder thoughts, others to be added should they arise.
work - town hall.
The newest clerk at Town Hall is a woman with a scar on her face and an eagerness to learn the system. Soon enough, she's figured things out, as if she'd been working there for months instead of the short time it really has been. Things flow easily, aided by both the strange item she'd retrieved from that one shop and what seems to be an innate understanding. But then again, if one can negotiate tactics midbattle, a job with paperwork and filing is practically nothing. So, if you need something, she's likely the one to dispense the forms or take them, working through the level of administration that all the new arrivals warranted.
Of course, it's not always business, and at the right time, someone might catch her at break, a novel from the library at hand and a dictionary close by as she needs to look up words. Some concepts and items are as of yet unknown to her, but she believes firmly with a bit of study, it can all be sorted.
training - "fight club."
When she joins the ranks of those sparring, talking her way into a day when the militia and the Enforcers are doing their training, it's really to satisfy her own desires for combat no matter what she tells them. Sure, she can go out in search of monsters, but that requires a companion and planning. This is more freeform, and fighting against someone else here lets her look at their capabilities. No magic to start with - best to be fair to all involved - and instead, Fever relies on a sturdier branch. Peter's not done with the staff yet, so this is the closest she can get. She fights with a clear joy in her movements, happy to test herself against anyone until either her opponent yields or someone outside calls the match.
That said, there are moments of downtime, where one has to catch their breath and drink water, where she's just leaning against the side observing or lightly applauding at the end of one spar. Catching a fighter's eye, they're offered an amused but restrained smile, and win, lose, or neither, it's clear something impressed her.
They're still never getting her to sign up with the Enforcers, though.
festival green - picnic.
Though she shies from the doll making, Fever can't deny the appeal of being able to picnic on the green, and waits until the event is over and dealt with before she takes her inspiration and heads outdoors. It's not perhaps the most ideal weather for it - clouds, the wind - but it's not so bad as to keep her from it. So here she is, with a simple lunch that's been ferried over and a blanket to sit on, trying to think about if she's ever done this before. Had reason to, really. But a passerby will interrupt her thoughts, and she'll raise her hand to get their attention.
"Does it seem like rain to you?"
Of course, there's enough room on the blanket for two, if you're feeling particularly sociable or are eyeing a free snack. Or, it can start to do as much as lightly rain, and she's not budging from where she is, considering it still fine weather.
wildcard.
Different idea? Throw it at me, I'm wide open for other scenarios. Will match the format of any tag-ins. Opt out post.
What: Settling into the town in varied ways.
When: Second half of March/early part of April.
Where: Varied locations - see prompts.
Warning(s): Likely intrusive murder thoughts, others to be added should they arise.
work - town hall.
The newest clerk at Town Hall is a woman with a scar on her face and an eagerness to learn the system. Soon enough, she's figured things out, as if she'd been working there for months instead of the short time it really has been. Things flow easily, aided by both the strange item she'd retrieved from that one shop and what seems to be an innate understanding. But then again, if one can negotiate tactics midbattle, a job with paperwork and filing is practically nothing. So, if you need something, she's likely the one to dispense the forms or take them, working through the level of administration that all the new arrivals warranted.
Of course, it's not always business, and at the right time, someone might catch her at break, a novel from the library at hand and a dictionary close by as she needs to look up words. Some concepts and items are as of yet unknown to her, but she believes firmly with a bit of study, it can all be sorted.
training - "fight club."
When she joins the ranks of those sparring, talking her way into a day when the militia and the Enforcers are doing their training, it's really to satisfy her own desires for combat no matter what she tells them. Sure, she can go out in search of monsters, but that requires a companion and planning. This is more freeform, and fighting against someone else here lets her look at their capabilities. No magic to start with - best to be fair to all involved - and instead, Fever relies on a sturdier branch. Peter's not done with the staff yet, so this is the closest she can get. She fights with a clear joy in her movements, happy to test herself against anyone until either her opponent yields or someone outside calls the match.
That said, there are moments of downtime, where one has to catch their breath and drink water, where she's just leaning against the side observing or lightly applauding at the end of one spar. Catching a fighter's eye, they're offered an amused but restrained smile, and win, lose, or neither, it's clear something impressed her.
They're still never getting her to sign up with the Enforcers, though.
festival green - picnic.
Though she shies from the doll making, Fever can't deny the appeal of being able to picnic on the green, and waits until the event is over and dealt with before she takes her inspiration and heads outdoors. It's not perhaps the most ideal weather for it - clouds, the wind - but it's not so bad as to keep her from it. So here she is, with a simple lunch that's been ferried over and a blanket to sit on, trying to think about if she's ever done this before. Had reason to, really. But a passerby will interrupt her thoughts, and she'll raise her hand to get their attention.
"Does it seem like rain to you?"
Of course, there's enough room on the blanket for two, if you're feeling particularly sociable or are eyeing a free snack. Or, it can start to do as much as lightly rain, and she's not budging from where she is, considering it still fine weather.
wildcard.
Different idea? Throw it at me, I'm wide open for other scenarios. Will match the format of any tag-ins. Opt out post.
no subject
She appreciates the consideration. People could say it must be rough all they wanted, but at this point, she would respond that it wasn't so bad just to not retread the same conversation. It's a complicated thing with so many facets, and a scar hidden at the back of her head, and something she doesn't feel like skirting around the truth of.
"What I do remember...there were a number of different stalls, they'd set up in a good area in the city. Decently sized, rather popular - there was something involving plants, and then of course the dinosaur. It was red, I know that much. And the ringmaster, I was talking to her - I'd helped her find a missing clown who was quite popular. She was grateful, because they were planning to leave soon. Not enough time to make a new friend in full, but who knows, the next time they drop into the city there might be more time for that."
A tiny pause, as they approach the door to the library.
"Wish I knew more. It would be a nice day to remember. But I don't know if an entire troupe will appear off the ferry and make up for all the gaps in my recollection."
no subject
"Maybe a circus will set up here, eh? That'd be nice- y'know, the best part of the circus that I can remember was the peanuts. Popcorn is fine, but peanuts are dense, hold a coating of whatever you put on them like nothing else. Salt, honey- honey on peanuts, now that's a combo."
"Hawkeye" "Easily distracted by food" Pierce.
"Good of you to help find the clown though- that's the sort of thing you did in your adventuring, yeah? Just kinda helping out?"
no subject
She isn't sure how else to express it. That driving force in her that hears someone's exhausted voice looking for their siblings, or who's pinned down by monsters, or begging news from somewhere, or something long lost to return, and answers it because she has the capacity to do it. You just did it.
"Getting a reward for all the hard work never hurt either. Though it was usually something useful, or coin, which is useful all its own. Never any honeyed nuts, else I'd be able to understand your praise for them."
Lesser known side effect of amnesia: you have to try every food again to remember what you like or don't like.
no subject
She perhaps shouldn't have admitted she doesn't know what they taste like, because Hawk gets a grin like the Cheshire cat on his face.
"I'm marking an extra stop on our trip backwards in time specifically so you can try some, they're worth messing with the timeline even more."
no subject
It's a promise, then, as they enter the library, and her first stop is the desk to quietly ask them if they've seen a key. No luck, but she'll check the shelves she was browsing - fiction, near the S. The air smells like all the books that have passed through this place, bound and beloved by many a reader.
"You might not like my version of adventuring too much, Hawkeye," she adds as they're going through the stacks. "There's a fair amount of fighting involved, as you could probably guess, and unless you're hiding something very well, you don't strike me as someone who'd be happy to engage in combat as often as we do. Of course, that doesn't mean you couldn't come - plenty of things just require talking. A little finesse, a little diplomacy and persuasion...all things you might be able to do."
no subject
"Talking, I can do though. I ever tell you about that one time with the guy from the black market? That was some brilliant work, if I do say so myself."
no subject
She ought to find a way to get that tiefling in his vicinity, let him meet a proper bard.
no subject
You have a chance to not make the world endure bard Hawkeye, Fever, you can do it, you can save us all.
no subject
"Mm, there's someone in town who can give you a better and more exact rundown, and I'll point you in her direction, but they're called bards. Scholars of song and story, masters of speech to such a degree that their music and their speech are where their power is. Their words can harm, confuse, manipulate - but they can also heal, inspire, and aid. And beyond the battlefield, they can be storytellers, entertainers, history keepers - the list goes on."
no subject
"When you put it like that, it doesn't sound like a half-bad gig. Like a one-man touring company."
He's just kinda poking through the books to see if the key is between any of them.
"Who's the bard you know?"
no subject
No key in the books. But that means that they can proceed to their sidequest instead of following the main thread of events.
no subject
"Alright- we warp space-time for some peanuts, then we keep going," he says with a few small taps on her arm, "it has to be here somewhere. If not, we stick something up on the notice board. If I have to offer my body as a reward for its safe return, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."