Roland Deschain (
ka_sera_sera) wrote in
asgardeventide2014-07-06 07:51 pm
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the saddest yard sale advertisement you will ever see [video]
[Roland sits amid wood, nails, and wire, scattered in a few small piles across the overgrown back yard. A little ways behind him, eagle-eyed viewers might notice a chicken in the process of laying an egg.]
Fiona Gallagher's... gone home. She, ah-- [He shakes his head, starts over, nodding at the house his camera's not at the right angle to show.] Anything in there's fair game. Odin 107, I mean. I won't be needing any of it. The door'll be open. Probably food and furniture, mostly - anything in the cupboards or refrigerator, anything not nailed down, bar the refrigerator and stove. I think the place came with those. [He shakes his head again, realizing he might be starting to ramble.] Doesn't matter. Corn, beans, squash plants in the back. Take them. Can probably see 'em behind me somewhere.
[Another chicken starts to peck at his sleeve and he lifts his arm, blinking at it.] Ah. Couple chickens, if you can catch them. Is that all? I think... I could probably use a couple extra hands to get all this wood and a couple of these plants over to Freyr district. And I... to be honest, I could probably use the company.
Bowls. I'll need a few of the bowls to transport these plants in. Other than that... Plates, silverware, clothes, bedding. Doesn't matter. I'll be leaving once it's empty. If I'm not here, don't take any of the magic plants. I'll find you. [The tone of that last is too absent for it to sound like a threat. It sounds, if anything, like an afterthought.]
The door's open. Have I said... [He has, probably. Roland shakes his head again, grimacing at himself, and cuts the feed.]
(ooc: If your character would drop by, this post doubles as a log post. Either prose or this format works, I'm comfortable with either.)
Fiona Gallagher's... gone home. She, ah-- [He shakes his head, starts over, nodding at the house his camera's not at the right angle to show.] Anything in there's fair game. Odin 107, I mean. I won't be needing any of it. The door'll be open. Probably food and furniture, mostly - anything in the cupboards or refrigerator, anything not nailed down, bar the refrigerator and stove. I think the place came with those. [He shakes his head again, realizing he might be starting to ramble.] Doesn't matter. Corn, beans, squash plants in the back. Take them. Can probably see 'em behind me somewhere.
[Another chicken starts to peck at his sleeve and he lifts his arm, blinking at it.] Ah. Couple chickens, if you can catch them. Is that all? I think... I could probably use a couple extra hands to get all this wood and a couple of these plants over to Freyr district. And I... to be honest, I could probably use the company.
Bowls. I'll need a few of the bowls to transport these plants in. Other than that... Plates, silverware, clothes, bedding. Doesn't matter. I'll be leaving once it's empty. If I'm not here, don't take any of the magic plants. I'll find you. [The tone of that last is too absent for it to sound like a threat. It sounds, if anything, like an afterthought.]
The door's open. Have I said... [He has, probably. Roland shakes his head again, grimacing at himself, and cuts the feed.]
(ooc: If your character would drop by, this post doubles as a log post. Either prose or this format works, I'm comfortable with either.)
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[Though Roland's dropped his hand from September's arm he still spends a second standing a little closer than he would to most anyone else, then turns and heads toward the closest pile of what used to be a greenhouse.]
You can tell me about it as we walk. It's, uh... [He frowns, looks around.] The glass is over here. I'd like to at least get that back to the shop before I leave. [He squats in front of a few carefully stacked panes of glass, thinking over how best to carry them.] How are you finding the other engineers?
[Small talk. But here and now, with this particular person, it's not the words themselves that he's really looking for.]
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Imaginative.
[You know, something he doesn't much do.]
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Hm. [He glances at September's face, trying in vain to read it, then grasps two corners of the glass in front of him.] Take the other end of these, if you please. Just the top two panes for now.
That imagination a good thing or a bad one? Can't quite tell, looking at you. [It's not a complaint. It's just politely not mentioning such things is something he doesn't have the energy for right now.]
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It is a good thing. Do you have something on wheels to use to move?
[If he did have bad opinions about anyone, he'd keep that to himself. Forever.]
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[He wouldn't put it past himself today, though that would be quite a thing to forget.] Do you suggest we find one before we actually try to take these anywhere? [It's a shame not to trust himself with even so small a decision. But maybe he can afford that, so long as September's here.]
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[What is wrong with the man? They must have been very close.]
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There's a few, ah, businesses nearby. We can ask.
[Roland jerks his head in the relevant direction, starts to walk, and then stops, turning back and clearly waiting for September to join him.]
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[He knows all the native shopkeepers around here, too.]
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[He clearly needs the help.]
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That's fine. I can wait.
[Roland moves away, leaning against a wall and letting his head fall back. It may look like he expects to be waiting a while, but that's what he's used to, and falls into it without thinking. It's probably how September will find him if he leaves and comes back.]
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Probably wouldn't have been wise to try to carry that glass all that way by hand. This'll do much better.
[Which is as good, in Roland's mind, as outright thanking September for thinking more clearly than he had.]
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[He says this as he starts to walk back--he's not one to waste any time. Or need thanking.]
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Probably not going to lie flat. One of us will need to keep a hand on the cart so it doesn't unbalance. We'll lift half these in first, then the other half. Ready?
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[Trust him, he's still fairly strong. And he probably didn't need the instructions.]
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[He hunkers and grasps the rest of the glass, then pauses. This isn't something he likes to ask, and that's going to be obvious when he asks it. All the same, he probably ought to.] ...Is there anything I'm forgetting? Something we ought to be, ah- [He looks around, frowning, and runs a hand over his jaw.]