i heard the thunder [open]

[goodweather]

Who: Phil and you!
What: May/June open
When: Late April and through May, probably June too
Where: Around town, the skies over the island, the Library, the hot springs
Warning(s): nudity in the hot springs prompt


but i find i got the question wrong [exploring]

A whole town. A whole island. Imagine that.

It's almost overwhelming, honestly, but Phil figures he may as well start big and wide before getting into the real nitty-gritty of it. So once things are slightly settled, once he has the time, he takes off. It won't be so unusual for people to see his silhouette soaring in the sky. If something fascinating catches his attention on the ground, perhaps he'll come down to check it out; his eyes are fit to see detail miles away, so distance is hardly a problem. Perhaps he'll land near you, or you can find him freshly landed someplace else. This is a lot more flying than he's done in years.

i was trying to run away [around town]

And of course, there's the glory of having more than a couple dozen other people to talk to. Phil makes himself a real neighbor's neighbor; he introduces himself to as many people as he can, he chats up anyone who seems free enough, he wanders place to place in the town, invites people to lunch or a drink or what have you. Sometimes he'll just be sitting around, pleased to be people-watching.

but a voice told me to stay [library]

Ah, weather. His old friend.

He's got to brush up. Get back into the swing of it, you know? And he's got to figure out what sort of currents and forces are acting on the meteorology of the island. Phil schleps down to the Library then, and spends long days tracking down research material for the case: he cross-references reports in the newspaper archives, digs up a scientific textbook on the global climate and its impact on the island, and even fishes up a few academic papers of... uh, dubious helpfulness, but it's fine.

Exhaustion catches him more easily these days than it used to. He's not terribly proud of it, but more than once he dozes off him his chair. Then shakes himself awake, then... dozes off again. At least he's not drooling on the books.

put the feeling in a song [hot springs] (cw: nudity, artistic nudity painting the link)

One of the things he'd spotted from above was, of course, the hot springs. There's even some signage nearby, so this is definitely both a public space and safe to take a dip in. Not saltwater, not chlorinated... jeez, it feels like it's been ages since he's been able to take a proper soak without having to take on some shape that got rid of his feathers. It's a relief. A good place to keep in mind if he has a particularly awful flare, too. (Although getting here would be tricky if he's gotten that bad.)

One day or another, Phil stops up there by himself. Undresses. Sighs a long sigh as he rests in the water. Lounging below the water or up on the grass, anyone is free to encounter him (and his shockingly sculpted figure), although he'll certainly hear you coming.

(And of course, do mind the wedding band he's wearing as a necklace.)

wildcard

[ hit me! ]

Comments

[notinflictthem]

For a couple of minutes before his stage-right entrance, Phil will hear rustling and off-and-on singing from the change room. This time Hawk has a brick to pin his clothes under- he's not getting his underpants stolen a third time.

"I could say life is just a bowl of Jell-O, and appear more intelligent and smart- oh!"

Hawk tosses his towel off to the side, naked as the day he was born, and slips into the hot spring with a sigh.

"Phil, right? Good to see you off that ship."

If he has literally any issue with Phil also being undressed, he's not showing it.

[goodweather]

He’s not surprised. Hawkeye’s a doctor, and judging by some of those comments he overheard at NHIE, he doesn’t share the prudishness of his time.

Phil, for his part, barely moves, looking to all the world like some great lounging lion, all loose and languid muscle. God, it’s so nice to be here. It’s great on his old middle-aged bones.

“Glad to be off of it. I’ve got sharp hearing—besides everything else, I wasn’t too thrilled to be hearing every single bug on that vessel at all hours of every day.”

He sighs, a little.

“Good to see you off too. You’re looking better.” Less crazed, he means. Which goes for all of them. “Speaking of, this is doing fine.”

He raises his still-bandaged wrist, which he has been dutifully keeping above water.

[notinflictthem]

"Must've been a nightmare," he muses as he settles himself, entirely missing that it means he absolutely heard the mutiny attempt.

"Better than I was, for certain. Never thought I'd be so glad to see trees. Not to mention the food without bugs in it- feels like I'm freshly out of the army again." if Phil is a languid lion, then Hawk stretches out like a house cat, flexing his hands in a satisfying stretch. That's the stuff.

"Hey- good to hear it. And you're even keeping it dry- if you're not careful you might end up my favourite patient."

[goodweather]

He hears a lot of things that he mostly tries to tune out or forget. The latter he was more successful with than usual, on account of the sleep deprivation.

“I’m sure you’ve had better.” Phil sets his hand back down. “I don’t even have insurance here. My plan doesn’t cover international.”

exploring/wildcard.

[abhorrently]

With his keen ears, if they aren't currently preoccupied with the sights and sounds of watching the town, he may hear someone engineering a way to climb up to the roof from the other side. If one starts on the second floor and has a blatant disregard for their own safety in terms of should they be standing on the balcony edge, it can be done, though it is a strain on the arms, and she's used to just hauling herself up and kind of inelegantly scrambling to get situated on the roof before she's high enough to sit properly and just relax.

Except, as it turns out, she's not the only person who had the same idea. No, there's Phil, who is never someone she'll be displeased at seeing.

"Looking for time to yourself, or is someone earthbound allowed to intrude on such heights?"

Despite the levity in the statement, she does mean the question - if Phil wants to just be Phil, it's not like she can't leave him to it and see him later.

[goodweather]

Perhaps if it were anyone else he might depart for another rooftop, but the cloud of white hair is a comfort to see.

"Always," he hums, getting up and trotting over to offer his hand and help pull her up. "And then what shall we do? Sit quietly together or chat? I'm okay doing either. I was mostly up here to be outside."

[abhorrently]

Much easier to get up this way, and there's a murmured thanks as she does, finding her footing on the roof.

"I actually came to just look at everything and everyone below. We could sit, and then talk if anything comes to mind?"

It's the best compromise she can think of, with how at the same time she feels suddenly full of words and yet unable to pick a place to start speaking. There's everything that happened before he arrived, wondering if he remembered any more than the rest of them as to what happened at the end, asking if he and his were fine after the battle...but, sitting together quietly has its own appeal. Particularly if she can stay nearby.

[goodweather]

"Sure. I'm fine with that." More than fine, really. It gives him time to think too.

Phil strolls off and sets down where he'd been perched earlier, gesturing with his head to a spot besides. There's a pretty good view of the streets below from here. Phil, for his part, has been watching a horse bother someone's window.

Library

[lasthumanvoice]

A shadow falls over the book Phil's reading, as some nosy redhead just peers over his shoulder without so much as a friendly greeting. This is a library, after all, so disturbing another patron by announcing one's presence before just peeeeeeking might be rude. Or something.

[goodweather]

It's weather. All of it, weather. Among the open pages of meteorology books, old newspaper reports, and maps, Phil has sheets of notes on the local science with dutiful notation of where he's gotten all of his information. On the table there's a map with the elevation topography of Marrow Island, and Phil has copied it onto his paper, with arrows and circles pointing to various scattered points both on land and in the sea. A label nearby reads, ?? tower locations ?? - talk to Tarantulas. Above that, bold and double-underlined, radio - talk to Cecil.

Cecil, of course, knows that there are no towers in these places. Especially not at the top of the Bluffs. He'd have seen them by now.

[lasthumanvoice]

"Huh, I've made that awfully convenient, haven't I?" He points to his name and offers an easy smile. "Radio? Talk to me?"

[goodweather]

Phil jolts. Apparently he’d been half-asleep.

He whips around to meet Cecil’s eyes immediately, and it’s another two seconds before his brain catches up with the rest of him.

“… Oh! Cecil? You’re Cecil. Hi. Uh—“ He runs a hand through his hair, “—people kept telling me to talk to you. Hi. Phil Connors. I’m a weatherman. I do the weather.”

put the feeling in a song

[decohere]

"Mind if I soak my feet?" She's wrapped modestly in a robe, clinging to a towel in her arms.

rises from my grave

[goodweather]

“Not at all. Come on, the water’s fine.”

He scooches, leaving some more room for Ava.

“God, this is nice. You know I barely ever swam on the cruise ship? I didn’t want to deal with getting salt or chlorine in any of my feathers. Man, I was both dry and sticky for basically the entire time during the flood.”

yeeee <3

[decohere]

She takes a seat at the edge of the pool of water, motion a bit slower and careful than typical to avoid slipping. She eases one foot into the water, followed by the other, followed by a delighted sigh as some stress leaves her body, dissipating with the steam.

"Oh yuck," Ava agrees sympathetically. "The entire... ordeal had my skin crawling. Still trying to feel clean myself." She wiggles her toes beneath the surface.

Re: yeeee <3

[goodweather]

“Ugh, yeah, I hear that. I mean, literally, I could probably hear every single insect on that boat. All scuttling in the walls.” He shakes his head. “I’m still paranoid that cockroaches are going to fall out of my ceiling when I hear too many weird noises at night.”

library

[littlefairytale]

Ruby's been trying to see if she can get into reading again. The answer so far is... inconclusive, in that she's found books she thinks she'd like to read but can't seem to really settle to actually read them.

Today's another failed attempt and she's heading to put a book back when she notices Phil falling asleep. She pauses. Considers for a long moment. Then sort of very gently shakes him by his sleeve. "Um— Mr Phil?"

[goodweather]

"Mmmnh--" Phil jerks upright, lightly startled. He blinks, rubs the sleep from his eyes, and remembers where he is.

"Oh, Ruby--hey." Darcy's friend, his friend's daughter. He briefly gives the papers on the desk a once-over to make sure he didn't drool on anything, then turns to her. "Hey, thanks, kiddo." A beat. "How've you been? We didn't get to actually say hello, did we?"

[littlefairytale]

"Heh, not so much. You were pretty wiped out when you arrived, too. Understandably." He didn't exactly get the easy arrival the rest of them did, washing up like that, so she'd tried not to disturb him while she talked to Darcy. "I've been..."

There's a longer pause than she'd like there to be, before she settles on how to answer that. What remained of her ability to pretend she was totally, completely fine sputtered out before she even arrived in town, but the whole truth is no easier.

"...adjusting, you know. Taking it day by day. Unlike most of us I went home for a few days before turning up here, so between Malin and that I had a pretty crazy week to come down from."

Kinda wildcard-y

[saltwaterlungs]

This is where Darcy has ended up a number of times after his shifts. A little apartment downtown. It's weird how much like home it feels- stepping around a parcel in the entry, the doors all alike. Back on the ship Darcy would've probably just slipped under the door as a shadow, but... different rules here, somewhere that's real.

So he knocks on the door.

"Just me," he calls. Sometimes he'll swing by someone else's place, or the graveyard, but sometimes he just needs to check Phil's still here and hasn't disappeared again while he was working.

[goodweather]

There are footsteps on wood, on a soft rug, on wood again. The door clicks open.

"Hey, pumpkin," he hums softly, ruffling Darcy's hair. Phil's as tired as he ever was, but he's had time to settle; he still looks better than he ever did those last months on the ship. Like he's... fine, maybe, for once.

"Just swinging by, or should I put the kettle on?"

[saltwaterlungs]

Ah, the world is back on its orbit again. Darcy takes the ruffling, noting to himself to try and smooth it back into place in a minute. Always good to see Phil so... like himself. It reminds him of their first meeting, almost. Not quite, but something in it, before all the... everything.

"I want to hang out. So. Kettle, I guess," Darcy answers, shedding his coat onto the rack at the door and slipping out of his boots. It's weird feeling the difference between inside and outside again. Having mud to track in.

"How was your day?"

Dinner & Conversation | June

[somebodychildofanyone]

It took a lot of wrangling, missed opportunities and eventually on River's part, a bit of light browbeating of other eager people in her life (the audacity of them, cherishing and caring about her), but, at last, dinner. River invites Phil in during the bright near-summer evening. She's laid out a simple spread, no individual dish anything more complex than stew, but in the manner of workmen everywhere she's made it up in sheer abundance. Whiskey, wine, and suntea are available, though River is quick to say that she's happy to put coffee or tea on.

There's a prayer on River's part just before serving, murmured low as a courtesy, the elf having no idea that Phil's sharp hearing can clearly discern friendly, even conversational words offered up to the Forgemaster ("Father of my people,") to Wren the Rhymer ("Give a bitch a break,") and to Celestine ("For your wisdom, and this harvest.")

This done, River looks up and starts to serve the food. "So! First things first, you staying over? I can take the couch, no bother to me."

[goodweather]

It's an honor. It's always an honor to be invited into another's personal space like this. He shows up clean and dressed as respectful as he can make himself, and not wanting to show up empty handed, with a bottle of wine. And god, the food looks good. Homely.

(He quietly notes the prayer to Celestine. He really ought to get around to visiting the Temple.)

"Mm. I definitely appreciate the offer, but I probably shouldn't, just in case something comes up." What something? Something. "I can fly home in the dark no problem and it's close, so don't worry about whether I'll get got out there."

Yeah Phil You Should Visit The Temple

[somebodychildofanyone]

"If you're sure, it's no trouble," River stresses, in the time honored tradition of one who knows it's polite to insist on hospitality but won't twist your arm about it. "You weren't kidding about life keeping you busy man, but I do get it. Moving in was a lot for me as just me, and it seems like you were far from just you."