[OPEN] observe the month of spring

[tehilim127_1]

Who: Zivia (tehilim127_1) & all comers (with prompt for Degas)
What: Settling in, and scrambling to prepare
When: April, prior to the event (backtagging welcome!)
Where: At home, at work (Town Hall), at the docks, at the Oak & Iron, at wits' end
Warning(s): To be added as relevant

At home
There's a lot of work that goes into making a house one's home, even when one receives it fully furnished. Zivia's resigned herself to doing it in stages, and moreover to those stages happening out of the order she would prefer, since according to the best-approximation calendar she's discussed with Lev-Lyubov and Anzu, Pesach is coming. Which means getting ready for that first.

She's put up a request on the community bulletin board; if it pans out, they'll be able to bake matzah, at least. Cleaning out the house she's been allotted is taking up a good chunk of the rest of her free time, though she might be willing to take a break to talk with a visitor.

At work (Town Hall)
The filing system isn't too hard to learn, it turns out. She takes notes during her brief training, writes up a couple of cheat sheets, and keeps one at her desk and one on her person. The chair and desk aren't particularly ergonomic, but they're sturdy and functional and won't completely ruin her wrists or spine, so she'll call it good.

It's been a while since Zivia's done any purely paper filing, but it's funny how it all comes back to you. Anyone else working there or visiting may overhear her humming to herself as she works.

At the docks (for Degas)
She hasn't forgotten the preacher's offer of help, so he's the one she calls on when she first comes across a task that needs an extra pair of hands. And, she's hoping, a cart or wheelbarrow or something to that effect, to help haul a bunch of items from her house down to the water's edge and back.

At the Oak & Iron
This city isn't the one she's always thought of as hers, but it's hers now, at least for now. She has to remember that. Has to learn that, internalize it until it feels like the truth. And that means, first and foremost, coming to know its people.

So even if she's a little tired most evenings now, Zivia makes a point of coming down to the pub after work at least twice a week, to meet her neighbors. Find her in the common room with a hot tea or a cold beer, looking for familiar faces or new ones.

At wits' end
Wildcard!

Comments

oak and iron

[notinflictthem]

Hawk's sat up at the bar with a drink and a book when Zivia sits the next stool over- when it's busy, it reminds him of the formerly officers-only club back at camp. Terrible place to read, but nice to soak in the ambiance of being around people when he's a little rattled. Like tonight, for instance.

At Zivia's arrival, he glances over the top of his book, dog-ears the page and asks-

"You ever see the shade of purple a barkeep's face turns when you order fifty mojitos during rush hour?"

[tehilim127_1]

She glances up at the sound of someone addressing her, and her eyebrows go up in both surprise and amusement.

"Can't say I have, why?"

[notinflictthem]

"Would you like to?"

[tehilim127_1]

She snorts laughter. "Do you want to be able to come back here?"

[notinflictthem]

"I shouldn't need to with fifty mojitos, I'll be set for life, especially if I drink all of them at once," Hawk grins widely. But no, he does not actually want to get banned for life or murdered by the broad with the blindfold, so he doesn't order them. Making her laugh was enough.

"Hawkeye," he offers a hand, "I like you already, won a lot of bonus points for laughing at my material."

work.

[abhorrently]

"Are you free? I need an extra set of hands for this one."

Her coworker pops herself over to Zivia's desk, looking a bit perplexed and mostly just thoughtful with the new case to resolve that had landed in her desk.

"I need to go into the older records to solve a financial dispute over property. Or birds, as it happens. The birds are the property."

[tehilim127_1]

"Sure, one moment --" Zivia puts down the list she's working on, pushes back her chair, and gets to her feet.

"The birds are the property?"

[abhorrently]

"They were, is the problem."

She leads the way towards where they keep the older records, the ones they don't need on a regular basis.

"One man kept doves, years back, and a rift developed between him and his neighbor when, as the story goes, his neighbor started enticing the doves onto his land and his dovecotes. Meanwhile, the neighbor claims that's all lies, and the birds left on their own, that the man's loss of money was his own problem. Move forward a few generations, and the descendants want to bury the hatchet, but can't simply agree to move on. So, they want us to check if there were dovecotes actually kept, because if so then one family is eligible for financial damages, and if not then it's a debt that has to be given up to nothing."

Her face should say how she feels about this.

"A twenty year friendship ruined over birds."

[tehilim127_1]

Her mouth twitches. "And did they find a bird within fifty cubits of the dovecote? -- Never mind, I'll help look. What year are we looking for?"

Thankfully, someone in this world has invented the clipboard, so she hasn't had to kludge one together to have something portable to take notes on.

[abhorrently]

She names the year - thank goodness the ancient grudge hadn't let that slide - and stops in front of the records.

"The reason I need help is because I can't figure out if that would precisely be under matters of property since they were on his land, or building to reference constructing them. Or both, since all that's needed is the evidence they existed."

Docks

[preacher_in_reticence]

He's done her one better, with a cart pulled by a pony. The pony is as grey as Degas, but much more lively, seeming excited to have Real! Work! to do.

"So explain this to me like a child: why the sea? Seems to me the salt water will just need to be washed off before you use them again."

[tehilim127_1]

The cart is full of boxes and bags, and the boxes and bags are full of ... something that clinks, like metal and/or glass, as they move. Zivia's also got a deep wicker basket over one arm, that seems to be empty but for a few dishtowels.

"Oh, it will. But it's not about physical cleanness. In fact they've got to be completely clean before you dunk them. It's a ritual purification. You could think of it as spiritual or symbolic, or both."

[preacher_in_reticence]

"Mm. What are we symbolically washing away in this process? Sin? Bad vibes?"

He's aware he lacks context for Judaism, but he's trying to play the part of the wise son without even knowing the tole exists.

[tehilim127_1]

"Not sin," she says right away. "Not exactly bad vibes either, more like ... anything past, I guess. There are other times when you immerse and there's a specific impurity that's being cleansed, but this is more sort of ... restoring a state of being new."

A pause, and a rueful, half-apologetic look. "Or, full disclosure, if you asked some other authorities they might tell you it was to wash away any possible prior use in the service of other gods."

[preacher_in_reticence]

"He's rather possessive, your god." But there's a lightness behind those words, not really an admonishment or even a complaint. "But in the context of this island, it's actually a fair consideration. Whether someone might have left an offering to the goddesses on the plates or something."

At home

[astrogator]

Ari Tayrey's passing by when she spots Zivia in the open doorway of what she has to presume must be her chosen house. She's busy, with what Tayrey would guess to be some sort of clearing-out, and ordinarily that might be a good reason not to disturb someone. Not today.

'Citizen Birnbaum!' she calls out with a friendly wave. Customs differ, but she'll always err on the side of too much courtesy towards her seniors unless she's told otherwise. 'Shalom u-pharnassah tovah!' She remembered, and she has the pronunciation just right.

[tehilim127_1]

Zivia looks up from the armload of plates she's transferring into a wooden crate, and beams. "Lieutenant Tayrey! Peace and prosperity to you too. How's your day going?"

[astrogator]

'Very well!' she says brightly, walking over to join Zivia. 'Just finished an early patrol shift. Uneventful.' Uneventful means it was a good day.

She looks briefly down at the plates, and wonders if they're being boxed up for sale. It isn't something she asks, however, both because she doesn't need any more plates and because there's something more important she wants to talk about. 'I saw your notice,' she tells Zivia. 'I don't want to mislead you, I do not know how to build an outdoor oven - but if you find someone who does, and they need assistance to get the project done quickly, I charge very reasonable labor rates. Sourcing materials, calculating quantities, carrying, digging, mixing. Whatever needs doing.'

[tehilim127_1]

"Oh that's good to know! Thank you." She sets down the plates, and straightens up, dusting down her hands. "And -- I hate to ask, but would you accept partial payment up front and the rest of it later? I don't know how much this is going to cost, and I've only got a month's wages so far."

[astrogator]

Tayrey has to consider this for a moment. The reason she wants to do extra work on top of her full-time job is because she needs to build capital. It's important. Extending credit like this isn't always the most sensible idea - but she's always inclined to think the best of people, if she can. She expects that Zivia will pay her, because even after all she's been through she wants to believe that people will keep contract. A little goodwill can go a long way.

'I can accept that, no trouble!' she says cheerily. 'I'll have to write out a formal contractual agreement - an invoice, essentially - but I can be flexible on terms.'

It does make her wonder about the urgency of the project, so she can't help but ask, 'Do you have no way of cooking indoors in that house? Or is it your custom to cook outside?' It would explain why she wanted it built as soon as possible.

At Home

[immortaldemonsoul]

In a town this size it's nearly impossible not to be aware of the business of others -- especially with so many houses standing empty. When a grey-haired human woman moves into one of the townhouses on Ellarinne's street and starts energetically -- very energetically -- cleaning it from top to bottom, well. She'll admit to some curiosity.

She sees her chance to introduce herself on a bright and clear morning when through her kitchen window she spots the woman hauling a full dustbin down to the public receptacles on the corner. By the time Zivia returns, Ellarinne is sitting on her own front doorstep, a clean white handkerchief wrapped around her head as a blindfold, while a second holds her teal hair out of her face.

She waves to Zivia as she walks by. "Good morning!" she calls out to her. "Perhaps you'd like an assistant today?"

[tehilim127_1]

"Good morning!" Zivia answers with a ready smile. "Possibly, are you offering?"

[immortaldemonsoul]

"Of course." Ellarinne takes over the dustbin, easily pulling it along. Her rolled-up sleeves can't quite conceal the muscles that lie beneath -- or the jagged green tattoos that peek out from beneath her sleeves and the edge of her shirt collar.

"We're neighbors, aren't we?" She smiles, carefully close-mouthed. "My name is Ellarinne. I arrived about a month ago now, from the planet Azeroth."

[tehilim127_1]

(The muscles and the tattoos get only a glance, not a second look.)

She gives an appreciative sigh, swinging her arms a little now that they're free of the burden. "Thank you. I can't remember the last time I did anything like this big a job on my own, and I'm reminded every day that I'm not as young as I used to be. I'm Zivia -- just got here last month myself, from Earth."

[immortaldemonsoul]

"Many of the offworlders here seem to be from Earth," Ellarinne remarks. "Or at least from a planet that bears that name. Are you from one of the versions that lacks magic of its own, or not?" She's genuinely curious! If Zivia needs extra help getting adjusted to things Ellarinne considers perfectly normal, she's happy to help.