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farming in the dead of winter; [OTA]
Who: Jimmy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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.
thishurts) & YOUWhat: 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.
no subject
He keeps it vague on purpose. He really doesn't want shit connected together.
no subject
He doesn't need to know that it was a position representing the Flesh in a Senate of Fear in a nightmare horror apocalypse.
"Let's see... my favorite food is braised beef stew with polenta. My favorite animal is a sheep. My favorite color is red. I speak four languages. I enjoy cooking, fashion, gardening, yoga... I know how to butcher most livestock animals from memory. Hmm, what else... I'm polyamorous. And I can't have children. I'm sterile."
no subject
"Uh, favorite food is- honestly, anything that doesn't come from a powder." He's become real appreciative of real food since being here, "Snakes are cool, I like green, I only speak english. I guess I like gardening now? Or I'm going to learn to. Also need to learn how to butcher livestock. Uh, I've only ever dated one person at a time, and I'm- I'm not sterile at all."
The last two facts are said with an absolute certain amount of hesitancy to them. Granted, he hadn't been in that many relationships to begin with, and none that really mattered to him. It had all been going through the motions, boring, a status symbol more than anything.
no subject
no subject
Maybe because no one ever gave him the time of day.
Probably because he doesn't deserve it.
"What's the catch?" He asks, voice caught in his throat.
no subject
Olivia snaps her wrist free of his grip in a sharp, decisive motion. She's strong. "There's no catch. I just know a fun toy when I see one. But if you don't wanna play, I can get my kicks somewhere else."
nsfwish? I guess. General Jimmy grossness. Anya is mentioned it sucks when that happens tbh.
Arousal.
It makes him sweat, makes him feel fear, and he feels the two intermingle and run up and down his spine. He ignores the sweat beginning to form at his temples.
She's the exact opposite of Anya, now that he takes a moment to think about it, which is probably how he ended up inviting her into his home in the first place, dropping his guard despite the warning signs blaring in his head. Despite what many people probably think, he was never really attracted to Anya at all. In fact, he kind of always fucking hated her. Her meekness, the way she bent around Curly, it was just all unpleasant and frankly kind of disgusting to him.
Olivia was different, strong, dangerous, spoke her mind, didn't give a fuck. And sterile. Infertile. That fact sticks to his mind like a leech to skin.
"... You can stay." Jimmy finally says, after much too long of a pause. Does he trust Olivia yet? Not really. Does he want to know where this goes, despite everything? Absolutely yes.