See you in September, See you when the summer's through...

[batteryacid]

Who: Eddie Kaspbrak (batteryacid) & YOU

What: general recovery from September's events - Eddie is here to listen, friends! (Folks I haven't tagged with yet are also welcome... normal guy is here to be normal about stuff.)

When: after Parade Day and Eddie's resurrection, clean-up after the Big Crab Fight (and in between those events is cool too)

Where: Eddie's farm, etc

Warning(s): discussions of death and violence, attempts to process trauma


[[ OOC: My in-Discord nattering about post-battle logistics comes to fruition here. ]]



Life Goes On
(Open Roleplay | Eddie's Farm)

All things considered, the most annoying thing about getting killed on Parade Day? The fact that Eddie lost his glasses during the process. (If they'd been knocked off during his death, or if losing them was a side effect of whatever process brought him back to life, Eddie didn't know.) If they're still around, maybe someone will bring them to him.

He can cope to a degree with the nearsightedness -- he'd been able to get home on his own -- but no amount of squinting would make the blurry smudges on his seed packets resolve into actual writing. A local and fellow farmer helped him sort out the seeds for planting in the first of his prepared, fenced off plots -- beets, carrots, and cabbage were now arranged in neat rows and watered as needed. He'd have to wait til mid-October to plant potatoes.

Missy still hasn't forgiven him for not coming back to put her in the barn in a timely fashion on Parade Day. The mare didn't care for his explanations that he would have done so had he not been dead at the time. The chickens were less ruffled about it in general, though Eddie was pretty sure that Bobbin had stolen a pen of his. Without his glasses, he could simply be walking by it in the house and never realizing that some particular blur was what he was looking for.

As it is, any visitor to Eddie's farm in the daytime will likely find him giving Missy a brushing, or watering his crops. What brings you by, neighbor?

Commence Commiseration [for River]
(Closed Roleplay | Eddie's Farm)

For the time being, Eddie has moved the nice bed from his bedroom into the room he's now designated 'the guest bedroom' and improvised a straw mattress for himself in lieu of being able to afford more improvements to the farm. Hospitality demands it.

And he doesn't need to read a cookbook to bake bread or improvise a stew, so there's a hearty dinner in the process of being cooked up by the time that River arrives at the farmhouse.

Originally, this arrangement had just been something to keep Eddie from having to deal with nightmares, chattering until he was too tired to even dream. But River seems... subdued, ever since Parade Day. Eddie figures that she needs their talk just as much for herself this time.

Crab Processing
(Open Roleplay | The Beach or the Town)

It's a crab the size of the Greymare Library and now it is dead. Even if every single person on the island ate their fill of the meat for days, they wouldn't get through it all quickly enough. A giant crab rotting on the beach is probably noticeable enough in a variety of ways that it might get around the 'dead bodies disappear when not observed' condition. (The theoretical smell alone...) They're under a curse; worst case scenario is likely to apply.

Hence, a canning operation.

Glass jars are actually being used -- metal cans do unpleasant things to the taste of crab meat -- and everyone who can pitch in to some part of the process has been asked to volunteer. Transport, cleaning, assisting in preparation of the fresh meat as reward packages for those who fought against the Mother Crab...

Also, crab shells are a decent source of calcium carbonate. There's lots of uses for that, such as for building materials like concrete, and medicinally as an antacid or supplement. Once the meat has been extracted, there's a need to break the shell of the legs and body into manageable sized pieces for processing.

Personally, Eddie is getting plenty of catharsis in smashing shell to bits.

Wildcard
Either write your own top-level comment here, or point Eddie to a starter where you'd like him.

Comments

Crab Processing

[graveling]

Surprise, Angel's here to fuck shit up. Erm, crab shells, primarily. Though he doesn't jump in right away, pausing near where Eddie's working to...watch him. Quietly. For a long moment.

[batteryacid]

Eddie may be picturing a certain clown's face on the shell pieces he's smashing, but shh... it helps with the catharsis.

After a while, he straightens up to mop his brow with one of his sleeves, and catches sight of Angel looking at him. His face, already pink with exertion, goes a little pinker.

"Uh. Hello." Eddie points to cart that has a waterproofed (waxed) cloth laid in it. "The smaller shell bits go in there. Don't worry if you get sand in, washing it all again is apparently part of the process. Just pick one of the cleaned up parts and hit it."

[graveling]

"You should stop to drink some water when you're done with that piece. Living bodies need water."

He grabs a hunk of shell and finds a proper hitting implement, be it rock, hammer or wooden club.

[batteryacid]

Eddie rolls his eyes a little, though he bites his tongue against teasing Angel by calling him 'Bossy'. And, after one last swing at the piece of carapace he's working on, Eddie goes and does what Angel says anyway.

One of the locals is making the rounds with cups of fresh, cold water for the workers, and Eddie waits until she's close by to walk over. There's a little polite conversation, mention that her factory-worker husband is helping with the canning part of the cleanup, musings on how sick they'll be of canned crab the end of the winter, that sort of thing.

And then Eddie ambles back to where Angel is working.

"Did you get put on shell duty, or you volunteer?"

[graveling]

"Volunteered. Might as well put being a brute to a good use, right?"

He flashes a smile that doesn't linger, before getting on with shell-smashing with just as much righteousness to his violence as Eddie had used. Maybe he's also picturing a face on the shell.

[batteryacid]

Eddie actually looks upset by that turn of phrase. "Who's been calling you a brute?" he demands.

[graveling]

"Calm down, I'm calling myself one. Aren't I?" Demonstratively, he shatters his piece of shell with a single blow. Brute strength. Poor conversationalist. Loner. Angel's actually read Frankenstein, you know.

[batteryacid]

Eddie scowls and flicks some sand at Angel's legs.

"Angel, you should be nice to my friend Angel."

[graveling]

"Your friend, huh?"

His lips pull in a smile that lingers a moment longer than most of his, before it too falls from his face as if it's too heavy to hold expressions for long.

Commence Commiseration [for River]

[somebodychildofanyone]

Yeah, that's the thing, isn't it? Sometimes you exit your previous form of depression only to acquire a new, spicier, more textured version of anxiety and depression. River's been feeling the weight of it, but she's trying to cheer herself up as she lets herself into the farmhouse as is the custom, mainly because trying to knock politely while carrying the beer would be...

...Inadvisable.

"Evenin' Eddie," River murmurs. Beer on the counter, River's mug from home on the counter, scalpel on the counter -

- Scalpel on the counter? -

"...Might have a bit of a request, but, and I need you to listen closely on this, feel empowered to say no. It's a rough one."

[batteryacid]

"Hello, River!" Eddie takes the beer off her hands and places it on the counter. And then his eyebrows shoot up in an expression of alarm when he notices what else she's brought tonight.

...But he still offers her a chair before taking a seat in the other one.

"Okay... I'm listening. And I will acknowledge that I can say no to your request."

[somebodychildofanyone]

"If this is gonna happen tonight it needs to happen while I'm sober, but..." River takes her seat, elbows on the table, and rolls her sleeves up. There's a good solid five inches of sigils on her right arm - and another two, on her left - that have gone dark, becoming inflamed and angry scars rather than the coal-like things they were before. "...I could use a friend on hand while I re-up these. A precaution, as you can see I've still got plenty, but it's the last drop of water you didn't take to the desert that kills ya, as it were. I'd mainly need you to hold my hand steady and maybe help me clean up, but..."

But. But they just got out of the parade and she's proposing just a few drops more of blood. But it's gonna hurt. But they haven't even addressed the shit to actually bitch and moan about yet.

[batteryacid]

Eddie has a visceral (if entirely internal) reaction to the sight of River's scarring, inflamed marks -- signs of infection that they are. It's a moment of terror, such as his mother instilled in him, but the only real external sign of it is a hitch to his breath.

"At least I didn't set the table before you got here," Eddie says, hating how weak his voice comes out. But he looks up into her face, obvious concern on his own -- "It doesn't look good. How long has this been happening?"

[somebodychildofanyone]

"Oh, it happens every time I expend one. The fire keeps the flesh steady, but once it burns off...debt's due." River flashes a wan smile. "It'll keep, for a bit. Like I said, you should feel empowered to say no. I did this to myself, on purpose, with lots of warnings about it, you ain't gotta participate in my consequences."

[batteryacid]

"No. I mean... you being better, back to a hundred percent, is important." Eddie takes another breath, and he masks whatever fear and discomfort he's feeling with a serious expression. "I want to help you, but I'd like to know what you're actually asking of me before I agree."

[somebodychildofanyone]

River nods. "I need to reopen the sigils and reconsecrate them. Means I'll need something to bleed in, some coals from your hearth, and for you to hold the hand of the arm I'm working on. Figure I'll crash in a chair overnight if you'll have me, sleep off the blood loss and maybe beat it off with breakfast if you'll take a hand with your chores in trade, but it's not much that I need from you. They're..." Her ears twitch rapidly, like they're trying to fly away. "...Untriggered summons, I guess would be the best way to say it. When I complete the spell the sigil expends and I have hellfire on hand. Like...back at...the parade."

Boy she doesn't like saying that shit.

[batteryacid]

Listen, he understands that the parade is a fraught topic. He hadn't seen much of River on the day of, especially since he got his silly ass killed, but the aftermath of her hellfire lingered. Both in the damage to the town and the fright of some who'd burned that day.

But... "You really think I'll make you sleep in a chair?" Eddie huffs. "Whether we do this or not, there's a bed in the guest bedroom that you are going to use."

Good thing that the farmhouse came with fireplace tools. There's a set of tongs among them, so that's the coals taken care of. Eddie considers, and muses aloud,

"Any limits on what kind of container you need for bleeding in? If I don't have something proper here, then we might have to postpone..."

crab processing

[lordoftheozarks]

"I heard you were looking for some assistance with that crab's carcass?" He's arrived in his badly ripped and somewhat dark-stained working clothes. What are those stains, exactly? Don't worry about it.

"My name is Lord Erik Osborne. Where can I be of assistance? I am both stronger than I look and much faster."

[batteryacid]

"The teams handling the crab meat are probably the ones that need the strongest hands. There's still one of the claws that needs flesh extracted. Or else you can join those of us breaking the shells. Some of the large pieces are very awkward to handle."

Eddie gives a little smile.

"Unless, of course, you have some talent as a cook. Then you might join the canning team."

[lordoftheozarks]

"Ah, I'm afraid not. My servant, Max, was the cook. I've no talent for it." And no need.

"But I can surely help with extraction or shell cracking. Nothing that requires a working sense of taste."

[batteryacid]

Eddie says, "Feel free to follow me. I'll show you the two operations and you can decide where to go. I don't think that we actually have a foreman in charge or anything, but a group of us came up with the basic plan and keep it going."

Eddie leads the way to one area of the beach, close to the slowly dwindling carcass of the Mother Crab. The harvested parts are being transported within town to be quickly pre-cooked. The meat makes those parts fairly heavy, to where two to three grown men work together to lift sections of the legs. Once pre-cooked, the meat is extracted and sent over to a factory with canning and jarring capabilities, and the shell returned to the beach for smashing and crushing. So the tour ends in the area where Erik found Eddie at first.

Eddie points out that people have spread out in this area so flying shell bits don't hurt other people. He explains the reason they want to process what might otherwise be considered waste parts, finishing with, "We've got to make use of everything we can, since this is a closed economy. Just hop in wherever you can make yourself useful, and if one role doesn't work, go ahead and try the other."

Yeah, the early 1980s businessman mode has activated. Can you tell?

[lordoftheozarks]

Erik has absolutely picked up on the businessman demeanor. Takes one to know one.

"I am impressed. You've gotten a good handle on the situation in so little time. I like your philosophy of letting nothing go to waste. It's bound to make you popular with the locals. May I ask, what sort of business did you do before you arrived here?"

[batteryacid]

"Thank you. I felt it was best to work quickly, so we don't have to deal with the problem of rot, and that was a convincing reason for the locals to get on board with my idea."

Eddie gives a little laugh. "That obvious, is it? I ran a chauffeur business back home, so coordination was a must. Especially when we had to deal with celebrity clients. Perhaps you have some experience with those?"

[lordoftheozarks]

"Obvious in the good way," Erik says, smiling with his lips closed.

"I do have some experience with that but somewhat from the other side of it. I wasn't what you would call a conventional celebrity, but I am the creator and leader of my clan and it has afforded me some notoriety. I have sometimes needed to engage the services of a trustworthy chauffeur and it cannot be overstated how necessary it is that they are trustworthy."

[batteryacid]

Eddie is visibly thinking all this over... the title of 'Lord', unconventional celebrity, leader of a 'clan', need for trustworthy drivers -- he adds it up and concludes "mob boss" given his own limited, and mundane experiences. No reason to be impolite in any case.

"I understand, Lord Osborne. And the need for discretion is understandable, though at home I did my best to stay on the right side of the law." He smiles. "That's all behind us now, and I will appreciate any help you can give at the moment."