exsiliumlogs | Gather 'round people, wherever you roam

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Gather 'round people, wherever you roam

Date & Time: Mid December onward
Location: New Exsilium
Characters: Victor Sullivan and YOU
Summary: Catching up, Christmas stuff, hanging around, whatever
Warnings: none at the moment.

A. Near His Shitty Ice-Shack

[Home sweet home it was not. Sully set up base near the shores of the Thames, in an abandoned little shack probably originally set up for ice-fishing. Over time he's managed to snag some creature comforts for it, starting with a generator and a heater and working his way up.

Strangers may find him hauling furniture or wood, trying to build an outhouse, or just walking to and from, either from an excursion to the nearest town or a trip to transporter. A friendly stranger might offer to help. A less friendly stranger might laugh their asses off as he tries to dig through the packed snow.]

B. In Town

Well, that could have gone better.

[Pawn shops were never where the big money was, but he didn't have a lot of options. With barely any cash to his name and a variety of sundry goods for trade it was that or nothing. It wasn't like he had any contact here, not a fence to be found.

Still, he was hoping for a little better than this. A lifetime of figuring out exchange rates meant that he knew exactly how little he'd really gotten out of the bargain. Certainly not a fortune. But hell, a bird in the hand. Which meant that he was ready to hit the town.

Blending in with the locals might not be too hard. If someone didn't spot him first.]

C. Other??

[Whatever suits your fancy!]

((OOC- If we've discussed doing something special before, you can either throw up a starter or let me know if you want me to make one!))

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[He came from the sky, fleeing from the city. The only warning to his arrival was his shadow racing over the land below. He hit the ice with a sharp sound. A network of cracks wove around him. A flea on the ice was a strange and frightening experience. Fearful of falling into the water, he cried shrilly. He ran on his hands and feet, going nowhere on the slippery surface.

He fell on his face and he slid across the ice. His gloved hands could not grip onto the ice to make him stop. Large, red eyes winced from the pain, barely catching sight of someone. He looked up. It was the man from before. He gasped, remembering that this was the man with a gun.]

[The shutters had seemed like a great idea at first. A way to keep the heat in at night when the single window on this little shit-box just didn't cut it. But it wasn't exactly going as planned. He hadn't expected goddamn art but Jesus Christ.

He'd managed to scrounge up some wood and various sundries with a little charm, but as it turned out the quote unquote frame of the window was about as brittle as ice and split with the slightest provocation. He was going to have to put up another fucking support or something to hold the damn things up because the shack itself certainly wasn't going to.

He stepped back, scrubbing at his face with his hand and studying the disaster. Which meant that it was totally quiet when all of a sudden some asshole hit the ice.

Flinching reflexively and turning, hand where his gun would be if it weren't bundled up in his jacket, he tried to figure out what in the Sam Hill was going on. It took him about a second to assess the situation then a second to not believe it.]

Are you goddamn kidding me?

[It was that real weirdo he'd met when he first showed up. Apparently ill-equipped for ice and falling out of the goddamn sky. Unfortunately he was a transport which meant he should probably try to be somewhat responsible for him. Or Cutter would be so very disappointed.]

Stay right goddamn there you damn fool, I'll be right out.

[He curled his fingers against the ice. How was he supposed to stay when he could not stop? He rasped, feeling scared, he watched the man helplessly. That man may have threatened him before, but Francœur tried desperately to listen to him.]

[ Speaking of shops, Rinth's been arguing at one not too far from the pawn shop Sully had visited. In the underground tunnels of snowy Exsilium, she's at one of the stores that's a mix of outdoor and indoor, so the argument is outside and on display for all to see. It's one of the butcher shops and she's at her usual trade since getting here, selling what she hunts up. This time it's a string of fat, puffy-feathered birds.

That alone gets her hackles up. Thankfully, the locals can't see those, the holographic disguise yet again coming in handy. Still, the big burly lumberjack of a man that she parades around as when she has to talk to the locals has that out of place voice; it's growly, sure, but still a little too high pitched than one would expect out of a dude.

If by any chance Sully has his own little Initiative-made devices on hand, he might be able to see right through the disguise to the big angry charr herself. ]

You know how scarce large game is all of the sudden? [ Since the Transports showed up, thanks guys! ] I'm not even asking for the same I want for deer and hogs and you expect me to throw in half of them for free? Give me a break!

[ She has a building to keep heated! New wiring to buy! ]

[He decided to take that as a yes, and spread his hands out as a clear sign to wait.

Then he promptly turned back to the shed and tromped his ass back inside. A moment digging through his pile of assorted sundries turned up what he was looking for- the spare set of high-traction boots he'd hoarded. Should give the guy some control. Not a minute later he was back outside and aiming himself in the general direction of whatever the hell the stranger was. It was slow going; traction or no the ice was slippery and he had no real urge to face plant.]

All right, all right, calm down.

[It took him awhile, but eventually he was within arms reach.]

You just don't do anything weird, ok?

[The heated argument draws Sully's attention pretty quickly. He thinks he might recognize the voice, although he's not sure. Maybe not. Still, it gets his attention long enough to realize that it has to be one of them. Doesn't recognize the guy with the misplaced voice until he remembers to go fumbling around for the whatchamacallit. Bunch of them were disguised and-

Ah, yep. Big cat thing. Big angry cat thingy.

Well hell.]

We got a problem here?

[Sully rolls up behind her with a helpful expression and open-palms. If this cat is hoping to get a better deal out of this guy he's willing to be this isn't the right way to go about it. Hell, what about low-profile did people not get?]

[Exactly what constituted anything weird, he did not know. Regardless, he could not do much of anything on the ice. The cracks shifted, growing. Francœur was too heavy.

He chirped pitifully. He was trying not to panic, but that was hard for him to do. Being so close to the water made him nervous. He could not swim.]

I'm going to pretend that was a 'yes, sir'. Stop freaking out you'll make it worse.

[Sully didn't waste time from there, grabbing the sleeve of the- whatever- and pulling back towards the shore. It was hard to get traction this far out, but he wasn't really that worried about the ice. It was frozen so often that it was pretty thick, so as long as he got the guy sliding in the right direction they should be fine.]

What in the hell were you dong, anyway? You know you're supposed to be keeping a low profile.

[Probably a slim chance of that.

He scowled at the sound of shifting ice and dug his heels in.]

We get back to shore you put on some proper boots so you don't go sliding off like this.

[Grabbing that sleeve may feel strange for Sully. Francœur had two, bone thin arms in each sleeve. He reached to grasp onto his arm, his hand large enough to wrap around even the thickest part of his arm. However, his grip was very gentle, as if he thought the man was made of fragile glass.

He was calm now. They were moving to safety and clearly, this man was not here to hurt him. Being in the position that he was in, he obviously could not answer his question, so he did not even try.]

[Discretion is the name of the game. Or at least discreet is what she hopes to be when Chloe slinks in during the middle of the day to drop off one hastily wrapped care package near the front of the shelter Victor's set up for himself. The pressed cardboard box she's holding isn't light, isn't properly taped shut and damn if the contents rolling about inside don't make it any sturdier as she trudges through near knee high snow.

But it's fine, it's all fine: she'll set it on his doorstep, walk off, and put together a pair of makeshift rackets from torn down pine branches to keep herself on top of the snow for the trip home rather than under it as she ought to have done in the first place.

Ah well, hindsight and all that.]

[Nate is still busying himself with trading and pawning off everything he's managed to swipe from various vendors for cash. Today proved to be fairly fruitful -- if he kept this up, he'd have his sled team in no time...not to mention some essentials for his little hole in the wall. Being human had its advantages here -- he had seen some less-than-human folk trying to sneak around with less than stellar results.

He had long ago decided that would work in his favor too. If they couldnt trade here with locals, then they could trade with him outside. Maybe. If he felt like it.

Nate is just waltzing along, keeping his eyes out until he spots a gentleman in a rush on his way out. After bumping into him rather hard (with a hasty apology and a haphazard effort to help him upright again), he turns away from the somewhat heated encounter with a small sack of coin. Not much, but it was something at least.

He will spend some time discreetly counting it in his pocket as he wanders, adjusting the backpack slung over his shoulder. He's so distracted that he doesn't spot Sully until he nearly bumps into him. Awkward.]

[The hand that snaked around his arm was enough to cause a full-body shudder, and he had to fight the urge to elbow the creature in the face. It was not a comfortable feeling. What in the hell had his life become?]

There.

[The snow buildup started, which meant he dropped the guy's arm and took a quick step away from him, hoping to dislodge his grip.]

Take off your shoes, put these on.

[He held the boots at arms-length. He could have invited him inside but honestly he wasn't feeling that charitable.]

[Finally, he could move again. He let go of the man's arm so that he could crawl on his hands and feet long enough to find a place to sit. His entire body ached from all that, particularly his face. After rubbing his face, he looked at the boots, uncertain.

He chirped. Those boots would not fit him. But in the spirit of trying, he removed one of his shoes. His feet, as should be expected by now, were insect-like and gigantic in size. The two of his claws alone were probably too big for those boots.]

[Alright so the bathroom thing was proving a bigger issue than he'd anticipated. The one-room shack had seemed like a real boon at first, and hell, who couldn't piss into the wind? But it was goddamn cold outside and he was getting about tired of it.

Not that it seemed to matter to the packed-snow he was shoveling. It was slow-goddamn-going, and he really really wished he could just blowtorch the shit. Alas.

Still, he's down a good four feet and bent over when she gets near the shack. No one could blame her being surprised when his head and shoulder seemed to pop up from underground, not far from her at all.]

Hey, watch your step. Hate to see you twist one of your pretty little ankles.

[Nate may be preoccupied, but Sully isn't. He isn't far out of the pawn shop when he spots him- fumble-handing in his pocket. And maybe he wants to smack him upside the head for that.

But that would mean drawing attention to himself.

He doesn't have to. He could turn, they could miss each other entirely. Two ships. It would be a hell of a lot easier. And this isn't really the right place for it anyway. But if he's wrong and Nate's spotted him and he doesn't even have the balls to talk to the kid, well...

By the time he's figured out what to do about it it's really too late to do anything but wait for the kid to bump into him.]

You're looking smug.

[Nate gives an awkward clear of his throat as he steps back to put just a bit of distance between them.]

Yeah. Right. Bad habit.

[The hand in his pocket goes still and he manages an easy grin.]

Shopping around for a new fanny pack, Sully?

Not if you did something to deserve it.

[Well this is awkward.]

Very funny kid. Glad to see your sense of humor hasn't changed.

[He figured it was safest to stick with jokes. Jokes were easy. And sure, he didn't usually prefer the safe option but in this case-]

Nah, just rustling up some pocket money. [He doesn't bother to hide the look he shoots at Nate's pocket-hand] You know how it is.

Any luck?

[He saw. Great. It was an amateur con, even if it worked, so Nate is just going to pretend Sully didn't see anything. In light of that, the jokes don't get returned.]

Yeah. Shitty luck.

[He fishes in his pocket for the cash he'd managed to ferret out of the tight-assed miser who ran the place, coins held up in his fingers.]

Ta-da. It's a goddamn travesty. Still, enough for a drink.

[Which was all he really needed. It was hard to steal a drink.]

You?

--Jesus. [Surprised is one word for it. Mid parcel delivery-- the box barely a few inches above the ground-- her grip stutters for it, slipping through her gloved fingers to slide sadly down into the snow.

Stooped over it, wearing an expression only a few ticks shy of owlish, she supposes she doesn't look anything less than suspicious by all possible standards.] What on earth are you doing down there?

Honestly? [Never a great way to start a conversation with Victor Sullivan]

Digging a shitter. The glamorous life.

[With that he drops the shovel and plants his hands firmly in the packed snow around the edge of the hole. Uses the convenient foot hold he'd chipped out earlier to thrust himself out of the hole. It doesn't take but a moment to put him back on level ground.]

But enough about me, what the hell are you doing here?

Ah. [Right. About that. Chloe glances down at the proverbial red on her hands, giving the box one sad little nudge with the snow-covered toe of her boot.] Brought you a care package.

Well, aren't you a dear?

[He brushed the snow off of his gloves briskly, walking closer to her. She seemed a little guilty. Probably because they hadn't left off on the best food. Well, tough turkey. She was just going to have to deal with that.]

Grab it and come on, it's cold out here. Lets get you warmed up. And a drink.

[He reached past her to the door, opened it and gestured for her to follow him inside.]

Don't take all day though, I don't want to let all the heat out.

That's all that matters, right?

[In response to Sully's question, Nate shrugs until his fingers creep out of his pocket with one coin to flash before it disappears.]

Can't complain, I guess.

[Fortunately for the both of them, Chloe doesn't argue: the box is tucked under her arm, boots tapped clean just inside the doorway before she goes in to start pulling off her gloves (a touch awkward with a large parcel in hand, but Chloe does all right).]

Well it's-- [hum] charming.

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Gather 'round people, wherever you roam

A. Mid December time

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Option I Do What I Want: near his shitty ice shack

I DO WHAT I WAAAANT also in town

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