farming in the dead of winter; [OTA]

[thishurts]

Who: Jimmy (thishurts) & YOU

What: Jimmy setting up his little farm

When: Early-Mid December

Where: Library, Around Town and in the Farmlands, and at his own Farm

Warning(s): dyslexia frustrations and depression mentions



[I've got problems; Not just the ones that are little]



Jimmy’s never been much for reading.

But getting an AI to read him websites out loud really isn’t much of an option anymore. And if he wants to pull any of this off he’s going to have to do this the hard way.



And he hates that, he really does.



He’s in the library. Gritting his teeth. He’s tried to pick out the easiest books he’s been able to find on animal husbandry. He really has. He even has a small notebook next to him, trying to take notes on the important bit like he’s in high school again, like he’s going to be tested on it.



Jimmy can’t even remember the last time he actually applied himself, put in effort into something he wanted to do, and now that he’s actually trying? It’s fucking hard. And discouraging.



The words on the page muddle together like fucking soup and his eyes are exhausted.

He sighs. Slams the book shut. Resists the urge to throw the damn thing. He rests his hands in his forehead.



Later he’ll end up checking out a few of these books. For now, he’ll continue to struggle a bit longer.




[It's those people problems; That's something to consider]



You may see Jimmy in various parts of town around the Winter acquiring different things. Mostly purchasing livestock, from the looks of it. Not the whole Noah’s Ark by any means, but certainly enough. Though unless you know Jimmy, you’re unlikely to notice the trend, and honestly, it’s not as if the man stands out by any means.



Or really has any friends to speak of.


Because he doesn’t.



Not many, anyway.



He purchases goats, a few hens, and two bunnies over the course of two weeks, arranging transportation for said animals in the process. You’ll find Jimmy walking across town, one end to the other, carrying individual hens in his arms trying to make sure they don't just fly away, rabbits tucked into his winter coat with their heads sticking out, and at one point pulling the goats behind himself on leads fashioned out of rope.



It’s all going about as well as it sounds it would.




[When you come for dinner at my place]



It wasn’t exactly Jimmy’s brightest idea to set up a new farm in the dead of winter. 

He’s realizing this now as he’s in his front lawn, trying to fix up the fence around his property. His animals are presumably inside his own home as he’s out with a hammer and nails in hand, a few boards at his feet, hammering away.



His hands are numb and aching. It’s so damn cold out. But surprisingly, this feels, good? He feels good. It feels good to do something with his own hands. His fence looks like fucking shit, frankly, and he knows it, but he doesn’t care. He’s fixing it with his own two hands. It’s tangible results that he can see, in real time, and honestly, he’s impressed with how good it actually feels to be doing something with himself.



It beats the hell out of any job he’s done so far. And it certainly beats the hell out of sitting around in the Oak & Iron, staring at the ceiling, doing nothing, napping the days away.



This feels good. It feels important. Right.

If you would have told him a few months ago that he’d be content working on a farm, Jimmy would have laughed. But now. Now? It was starting to feel like an actual real possibility that he might enjoy this kind of work.

Comments

[ss_buttcrack]

Crichton happens to be walking the same path when he sees the chaotic menagerie up ahead. Like any good neighbor, he decides to help. Well. Try to help. He's not actually that great with animals either, as evidenced by the absolute howl of pain he lets out after taking one of those goat horns to the groin for his trouble.

"FRELL!"

[thishurts]

"-Fuck."

The goat is almost forgotten about, almost, but Jimmy thinks twice and ties up the goat before checking on Crichton's package. He kneels down in front of him, he knows how much this must hurt, dick haver to dick haver.

"You good dude?" He asks, putting a hand on his shoulder.

[ss_buttcrack]

Crichton's eyes are full of water and his face is red. "Been better," he manages to squeeze out between his teeth. He will not sit his ass in the snow to put ice on it, but he's thinking about it.

"Sorry. I was trying to give you a hand. I just... need a second." Deep breaths are happening right now.

He's still half doubled over, but now he offers out a hand. "Commander John Crichton... nice to meet you..." Save what's left of his dignity, please.

[thishurts]

Commander. Like rank means anything out here. To any of them. Like Jimmy's going to be calling him that. He doesn't know who this dude thinks he is, but he'll be Crichton and that's about it to him.

"You're fine." Jimmy says, voice a few degrees colder as he attempts to help Crichton up, "Name's Jimmy, the goat's name is now Asshole."

Even if he's being chilly about Crichton introducing himself about rank, it's still not cool to get a guy in the nads. So therefore, goat's name is now Asshole. No take backs.

[ss_buttcrack]

"Would'a gone with Nutcracker, personally," he says, finally straightening up with Jimmy's helping hand. He's noticed the sudden frigid change and he's got a good guess why.

"Thanks, Jimmy. Call me Crichton," he says, "In case you're wondering, I'm a science officer, Civilian, not military. We cool?"

Library

[redlightgreenlight]

Valdis senses the distress of the man long before she happens upon him, carrying her own research in her hands. As the man suddenly tenses, slams the book shut and for a moment looks like he might fling it away, she softens just a little.

"Is the plot that bad?"

She can see it isn't a fiction book he's angry at, but maybe the joke will lighten the mood.

[thishurts]

"No." He snaps, visibly annoyed,

He realizes he's snapping, he tries to calm down. Takes a few deep breaths like Neil told him to.

It's sort of successful.

"It's a frustrating book." Jimmy dodges the question, shrugging noncommittally.

[redlightgreenlight]

Clearly this is a Daniil scenario. Another grumpy man who gets angry at everyone who crosses their path without a good reason. Valdis pulls out a chair and glances at the cover, because such attitudes don't really bother her.

"Animal husbandry?"

Must be a farmer.

"John Rambo might be able to help. He has a farm and breeds horses."

[thishurts]

"Not really into horses, was thinking smaller." He says quickly, horses, do not want to think about those, nope, fucking hate horses.

library

[griefs]

So two problematic men named Jim walk into a library...

And unfortunately, I don't have a punchline. But anyway, James is in the library because he's come straight out of a situation where if he looked around hard enough, he could find notes and codes and puzzles and letters to get him in and out of any situation imaginable. It only makes sense that maybe, just maybe, he can find something here in the library that might help speed the whole "help us out and you can return to your own life" thing along.

He's in the middle of hunting down literally any book on the history of this place when he hears what could either be someone dropping a book or maybe someone closing a book pretty hard. Either way, he rounds the corner to see what's up and encounters something else that's not so different from Silent Hill — a stranger who seems to be in some degree of distress, doing stuff that's really none of James's business.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

Re: library

[thishurts]

I mean to be honest the logic is sound and if Jimmy also came out of a survival horror game with puzzle elements he also might be hunting for clues. Luckily his game does not come with those types of puzzle elements, so he is not doing that.

He looks up at James, and to Jimmy, it's just another dude, so he relaxes, at least somewhat- though he's embarrassed at being spotted being weak. It's not like he's going to just tell a stranger 'hey I can't fucking read' and be done with it.

So instead he just settles with, "Yeah, I'm fine. Saw a bug." And it's a shitty lie, obviously not true, but it's also obviously a coverup for a sensitive truth. "You new in town? Haven't seen you around."

Jimmy hasn't also seen much of anyone, since he's been busy for the past month and a half depression napping in the Oak and Iron, but you know, that part doesn't matter so much.

[griefs]

"A bug," James repeats, doubtful. "Okay."

It actually wouldn't be such an unbelievable lie if this guy wasn't being so obvious about it. Silent Hill had a disturbing number of oversized bugs, after all — who's to say Pumpkin Hollow doesn't, too? But regardless of whether or not James believes it doesn't really matter. If the guy doesn't want to talk, that's fine.

James goes along with the change in subject willingly. No need to press.

"Oh — yeah. I've been here a couple of days now," he says. "Have you been here long?" His tone, though weary, gains a slight hopeful note. Please say no, it seems to plead. He'd already encountered a giant bird who's been here for a year. If everyone in town has been here for ages then James's goal to get out as quickly as possible to find Mary just feels hopeless.

[thishurts]

"Only about a month." Jimmy shrugs.

So not very long. He's grateful for the shift in conversation. He really did not want to have to keep making excuses for his inability to read.

"It's boring. And I don't think it gets better." He shrugs about it. "My suggestion? Don't start a farm."

Come for dinner

[staybizzy]

There is a little blue guy sitting on a stone barrier lining a road in Northwest Hollow, taking in the sights and smoking a cigarette.

Long hair in thick, piece-y chunks like ribbons, stick out from under a cheap hat bought on a new arrival's stipend and a tail swishes back and forth as it dangles beneath him. Long and thin, like a monkey, bandaged at the end. He puffs away as he watches people do their thing, go about their business, including the poor bastard fixin' a fence in the snow.

The Bizzyboy in him considers offering to help... but the old man part of him doesn't want to work in the damn cold. Capochin decides to split the difference, resolving to offer once this cigarette is done.

cw: mental illness talk

[thishurts]

Jimmy doesn't notice Capochin at first. The euphoria of fixing a fence is still overtaking his thin malnourished body even to the point where he doesn't notice a small blue monkey man.

Until he does.

He raises both eyebrows at the sight. Then rubs his eyes, then blinks a few times.

Nope still there.

"Fuck, gotta tell Neil about this." He mumbles.

What'd Neil say about hallucinations...? Well, there's no one else around to see if someone else sees him. Maybe if he can get a drag off that cigarette. If the cig's real, the monkey's gotta be too, right?

Jimmy props the hammer up on his fence, approaching the strange little dude with both freezing hands in his pockets.

"Got another cig?" He asks casually, acting like he's not talking to his own hallucination or anything like that.

[staybizzy]

Oh, goodie. Another smart-ass staring at Capochin like he has two heads. Is this gonna be a thing the whole time?

"I dunno, dat depends," replies the "hallucination" in an irritable tone, with a comically thick New York accent. He sounds like a Looney Tunes character, almost. "You got any damn manners?"

[thishurts]

Oh my god. This can't be real. There's no way. This has to be some sort of holdover Polle grade hallucination his brain is making up.

Should he be on drugs? Is he that fucked up?

He sighs irritably, and tries again.

"May I please. Have a cigarette." Jimmy says, sounding annoyed, but at least he said please? Capochin. He said please!

A Wildcard In The Gardens

[theresalwaystheview]

The snow is still think on the ground, the temperature is well below what would be comfortable for growing much of anything that isn't evergreen, and therein may lie the first of Jimmy's problems in trying to set up to be self-sustainable. Others seems to have a plan of how to go about it though.

For example, a young man with shoulder-length hair pulled back into a half-up ponytail to keep it out of his face, cheeks pink with the cold and every exhale a cloud of mist. He works diligently at pulling together arches and tying them together to draw semitransparent sheeting over, reciting something under his breath as he works. He only notices that he's being watched by a figure stood back from his little property when he comes down from the stepladder he's been perched on. Oh, the man looks like he's seen better days, doesn't he...

"Good morning!" he greets Jimmy brightly, lifting a gloved hand to him.

i stopped and made this icon to respond

[thishurts]

Jimmy is still being really hesitant, bordering on paranoid, about asking anyone in town for any real help with his farm.

So when he sees someone who actually knows what he's doing, instead of approaching and asking like a normal human being, he's stopping and staring. Like a fucking weirdo. Because that's kind of what he is. A weirdo.

When he's called out on it, he practically jumps out of his skin. Then he collects himself, or tries to. He's not nearly as well dressed, yes. His shirt is crooked and wrinkled, his pants worn at the knees and hem, and his hair greasy and face unshaven and growing back in.

It's a living.

Jimmy gives an awkward wave back, "Uh, hey." He manages, "Nice... garden?"

It is an excellent icon and he will be making that face a lot I think.

[theresalwaystheview]

He's spectating someone doing what they know how to do to try and learn from them without actually like...asking for help. It would only get him so far, but at least he kind of has an idea?

Or he's just an awkward dude with no real social skills staring at a stranger as if trying to glean the mysteries of the universe. Either or.

The stilted compliment makes Bart smile nonetheless. "I'm hoping it will be, at least," he replies, stepping down to where he's cleared away the snow around his work area. "I don't recognize you, are you new to the village?"

i am inclined to agree

[thishurts]

Yeah it's really not that helpful. Truth be told. But his stomach is turning at the idea of asking for help.

He's imagining the social stigma of him not knowing what he's doing being turned against him. Or worse.

Best to just make small talk for now. Try not to think.

"Sort of." He says. A month or so in town is new enough, "Been keeping to myself. Name's Jimmy. I grabbed that house, over there." He says, pointing over yonder.

Something to consider

[aphroditish]

There is a woman on the road out to Northwest Hollow.

She's leaned up against a lamp post, chewing on something. Jerky, by the looks of it. Strips of dried meat cut on straight white teeth. A red linen gown indicates her newness, nicely fitted but plain. However, over top of it, she wears a very odd coat unlike anything for sale in town. Strips of leather fashioned into an asymmetrical patchwork with a jagged hem around the bottom and a ruff of black fur around the neck, cutting an imposing figure. She has long nails, painted ruby red with rounded tips, and full lips to match. There's something about her, like a brightly colored snake, that screams danger.

Dark eyes watch him as she slowly picks apart her jerky, bit by tiny bit, pulling a bit as she bites down. Bite, pull, snap, chew. Bite, pull, snap, chew. Just a small, manageable fragment at a time. A coy smile rises to her lips.

"That looks fun," she teases. "You need some help with that, baby?"

[thishurts]

Jimmy's automatic reaction to her is to feel irritable. Yes she's pretty. Gorgeous even. But she's dangerous. And more important than that, she knows she's dangerous. She's self important, full of herself, she knows she's good.

Better than Jimmy, probably.

That immediately sets him off before he can properly register that's why and by the time he can register why, it's kind of too late for him to care.

"No." He snaps defensively, tucking his hen further into his winter coat. The hen reacts by clucking and squirming around, trying to get away from Jimmy. It doesn't make reaction seem like it has much merit.

All bark and no bite.

"Besides, what do you know about hens?" He asks. Pretty thing like her probably doesn't know shit about animal husbandry.

[aphroditish]

“Plenty, actually,” she says through a soft laugh. “Admittedly, it’s been a while, but I grew up in a farming village in Switzerland. Waaaaay up in the Alps. Remote and very self-contained, so we could only rely on ourselves for food. Kinda like this place.”

Olivia does not often volunteer this piece of truth. Personal information often leads to things like attachment, as well as mistakes that give away her cover. Little inconsistencies in her story that lead to the discovery of her age. But in this case, Olivia hasn’t got a whole beauty cult to unravel with such information, so the risk is not so high. It’s better to lend credence to her knowledge than worry about whether this guy figures out she’s a few years shy of 300.

“You got a name, pretty boy? Or should I just stick to ‘baby’?” She cocks one shoulder coyly. Entreating.

[thishurts]

He's feeling a mix of so many things. Apprehension, anger, attraction. All mixed up into some weird cocktail that he doesn't like, doesn't want to be around, but also wants to be around despite his brain sounding the warning alarms.

And he doesn't really have the where with all to say no. To back off. To tell her to fuck off.

So he shrugs. Fuck it and fuck him.

"Jimmy." He says. "If anyone would be calling anyone baby, it would be me calling you that." He retorts, in an absolutely meant to be misogynistic way, "If you know what you're doing, then how the fuck do you carry a chicken without them freaking the fuck out? Everytime I take him out of my coat he goes apeshit."

First off, absolutely not a boy, Jimmy, since it's a hen...