Radar O'Reilly (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
incomingchoppers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2025-05-06 10:27 am
incomingchoppers) wrote in ph_logs2025-05-06 10:27 am
but i wonder where you are [closed to current CR]
Who: Radar O'Reilly (incomingchoppers) and current CR
What: Mr. Rambo's gone. Radar tries to deal.
When: Early May
Where: Baker Ranch, Town Hall, the Leeds Estate, and all over
Warning(s): None yet; will add if necessary
on the night you disappeared, oh if i had seen it clear [locked to Baker Ranch residents]
He wakes up, and he knows.
He hears an echo of the ferryman's sigh; the whisper of water parting as the boat shoves back from the dock. The problem with echoes, though, is the delay between source and sound. He wakes up, he hears, and he knows it's too late.
Radar's probably never gotten dressed so fast in his life, even during a middle-of-the-night bugout. He bursts out the door with one boot half untied and his suspenders on the verge of snapping off. He doesn't care. He sprints as fast as he can the whole way to Baker Ranch, which isn't too fast at all on account of him having to catch his breath a couple times.
(He knows -- and pretends like he doesn't -- that this is different from the last time John vanished onto the ferry.)
i'm gonna find a way through, there's another life beyond the line [town hall + leeds estate]
There's so much to be done. Nobody realizes how much you gotta get in order after somebody's gone, but Radar's had to do it hundreds of times. Every soldier the 4077th can't save has to be processed before the morgue truck takes them, so he knows the shape of the aftermath pretty good, even if, individually, each one's on a smaller scale than this. This is more like --
well --
(There were no survivors.)
And Edgar's great, he's way better at all this than he was a year ago, but he doesn't know enough to run Baker Ranch. Not like somebody who grew up on a farm and knew the rhythms of the work by the time they were crawling. There's so much, and even someone like Radar can't do all of it plus keep working at Town Hall plus help keep the Leeds Estate in decent shape.
He crumples up five tries at writing a resignation letter before he just gives up and goes to tell everybody at Town Hall in person. Maybe it'll just be temporary. (He knows that's a big maybe.) But there's a lot to settle there, too, and all the conversations Radar has with his friends and coworkers get punctuated with fretful ramblings like, " -- and I wrote down everybody's coffee order when I was just starting out and a copy of it's still in my desk even though I got it all memorized now, top drawer, third folder down, and I checked on Yorick's cabinet last week and it's only got space for maybe ten more folders so you're gonna have to start a new cabinet before the end of May, and -- "
Dahlia and anybody else on the Leeds Estate grounds has to put up with him pacing around there, too, rattling off all the idle upkeep notes he's been cataloging even though he's not exactly officially her assistant anymore. And oh, jeez, if he moves out to the ranch permanent then he's going to be all the way across town from Dahlia. Sure it's not really that far, but it feels far, and what if something goes bad when he's living all the way out in the farmlands? What if Hawkeye or Father Mulcahy or Major Houlihan need him and he can't get there fast enough?
Somebody's gotta look after the ranch with John gone for good, though. So... so that's what he's gotta do. What needs doing. Just like he's always done.
i will be waiting for you on the other side of the frozen pines [wildcard]
In a rare idle moment, it's possible to catch Radar alone. Maybe on his front stoop with a couple of his animals gathered close; at the Temple, fussing helplessly over Serranai's altar (because somebody's gotta keep that in good shape, too, don't they? it's important. it's important. he loved her too.); on the green, just sort of... staring into space in absolute exhaustion. Or somewhere else, as he sleepwalks through all the mundane parts of life that still need doing in between the rest.
[you know where to find me if you want to plot <3]
incomingchoppers) and current CR What: Mr. Rambo's gone. Radar tries to deal.
When: Early May
Where: Baker Ranch, Town Hall, the Leeds Estate, and all over
Warning(s): None yet; will add if necessary
on the night you disappeared, oh if i had seen it clear [locked to Baker Ranch residents]
He wakes up, and he knows.
He hears an echo of the ferryman's sigh; the whisper of water parting as the boat shoves back from the dock. The problem with echoes, though, is the delay between source and sound. He wakes up, he hears, and he knows it's too late.
Radar's probably never gotten dressed so fast in his life, even during a middle-of-the-night bugout. He bursts out the door with one boot half untied and his suspenders on the verge of snapping off. He doesn't care. He sprints as fast as he can the whole way to Baker Ranch, which isn't too fast at all on account of him having to catch his breath a couple times.
(He knows -- and pretends like he doesn't -- that this is different from the last time John vanished onto the ferry.)
i'm gonna find a way through, there's another life beyond the line [town hall + leeds estate]
There's so much to be done. Nobody realizes how much you gotta get in order after somebody's gone, but Radar's had to do it hundreds of times. Every soldier the 4077th can't save has to be processed before the morgue truck takes them, so he knows the shape of the aftermath pretty good, even if, individually, each one's on a smaller scale than this. This is more like --
well --
(There were no survivors.)
And Edgar's great, he's way better at all this than he was a year ago, but he doesn't know enough to run Baker Ranch. Not like somebody who grew up on a farm and knew the rhythms of the work by the time they were crawling. There's so much, and even someone like Radar can't do all of it plus keep working at Town Hall plus help keep the Leeds Estate in decent shape.
He crumples up five tries at writing a resignation letter before he just gives up and goes to tell everybody at Town Hall in person. Maybe it'll just be temporary. (He knows that's a big maybe.) But there's a lot to settle there, too, and all the conversations Radar has with his friends and coworkers get punctuated with fretful ramblings like, " -- and I wrote down everybody's coffee order when I was just starting out and a copy of it's still in my desk even though I got it all memorized now, top drawer, third folder down, and I checked on Yorick's cabinet last week and it's only got space for maybe ten more folders so you're gonna have to start a new cabinet before the end of May, and -- "
Dahlia and anybody else on the Leeds Estate grounds has to put up with him pacing around there, too, rattling off all the idle upkeep notes he's been cataloging even though he's not exactly officially her assistant anymore. And oh, jeez, if he moves out to the ranch permanent then he's going to be all the way across town from Dahlia. Sure it's not really that far, but it feels far, and what if something goes bad when he's living all the way out in the farmlands? What if Hawkeye or Father Mulcahy or Major Houlihan need him and he can't get there fast enough?
Somebody's gotta look after the ranch with John gone for good, though. So... so that's what he's gotta do. What needs doing. Just like he's always done.
i will be waiting for you on the other side of the frozen pines [wildcard]
In a rare idle moment, it's possible to catch Radar alone. Maybe on his front stoop with a couple of his animals gathered close; at the Temple, fussing helplessly over Serranai's altar (because somebody's gotta keep that in good shape, too, don't they? it's important. it's important. he loved her too.); on the green, just sort of... staring into space in absolute exhaustion. Or somewhere else, as he sleepwalks through all the mundane parts of life that still need doing in between the rest.
[you know where to find me if you want to plot <3]
no subject
What could have happened to make him up and leave so quick?
no subject
He flings out a hand toward the chair against the wall, where Rambo dozed so many nights so Edgar wouldn't have to sleep in a room alone.
no subject
All the times he said he'd always come back --
Radar drops heavily onto the foot of Edgar's bed, staring at the empty chair, and clamps a hand over his mouth.
no subject
There's nothing like thinking involved, just a vehement urgency: he's got to get down to the docks and stop the ferry, before Rambo's gone for good.
no subject
But then what Edgar's saying finally clicks, and Radar's on his feet too, lunging after him to try and catch his arm. "Edgar, wait -- "
no subject
"What d'you mean wait?" he demands. "Come on, we gotta catch him!"
no subject
He's gone. Saying it out loud makes it echo in his ears, too, a hundred times worse. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone.
no subject
In midmovement, he stops. Goes wholly still, as though that same echo is sounding in his own ears until he listens. He's gone, he's gone.
"Fuckin hell," he half-whispers, in broken protest.
no subject
Edgar's arm slips out of his grasp. Radar's hand falls limply to his side as he stares past him, not seeing anything at all. Maybe they're stuck in another nightmare together. Could that be it? They could find a way out, like they did before, except... except there's nowhere to go. It's too late.
His breath hitches. He holds it back with one hand while he wraps his other arm around his stomach. What do we do? he wants to ask, but Edgar's not gonna have any idea either. At least when Colonel Blake died there was a chain of command that put Major Burns in charge and all the forms to send off to I-Corps and a tent full of personal effects to pack up and now there's nothing but an empty chair and an empty room and the two of them standing around like a bunch of ninnies in an empty house.
no subject
His voice cracks, the smallest bit, and he breaks off.
"We," he manages after a moment, "we gotta tell somebody. Town Hall, right, they keep track?"