faderift | Yup, what's goodie

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Yup, what's goodie

WHO: Erik Stevens & Y'ALL
WHAT: Checking things out, buying some stuff, reading books, &c
WHEN: ooc: December | ic: Cassus
WHERE: Exploring Kirkwall and the Gallows, &c
NOTES: Erik curses but that's probably gonna be it

→ I got all the sounds, got plenty; open

[ Here are a few places one can find Erik within the Gallows on a regular basis:

The Library: Reading a little bit of everything, actually but focusing on recent history reports, whatever passes for science fiction, books about the Fade, and books about religion. Oh and a book or two on elven culture. Shh.

He's here at all sorts of hours but mostly between 11pm and 5am, apparently not sleeping very well otherwise. Why else be in a library at prime sleeping time?

The Smithy: Erik is fascinated by this area and mostly writes notes about whatever process he's allowed to observe here. Leave his little engineering heart alone about it! (Or don't, actually. Bothering him is preferable to the narration.)

The Herb Garden: Because he's curious if he recognizes any plants from home. Spoilers: he doesn't, but he keeps coming back anyway, usually in the early afternoon.

Training Area: Sparring with swords and spears, because there's no excuse not to stay in shape. Also there's a war on? So. Come gawk at the man. It'll be fun.

Anywhere else: He explores the entire Gallows during his quarantine and then does it again afterward, so consider this an open invitation to wildcard me.
]

→ You should ask around, my city; open

[ Erik discovers the market district in Lowtown and spends an inordinate amount of time there, mostly browsing, but occasionally buying small items. A scarf at one point. Close to the middle of the month he is clearly looking for something specific - jewelry, it would seem. He picks up bracelets, necklaces, earrings, but doesn't seem to settle on anything for a while.

You can also find him in the occasional tavern. He hates drinking alone; join him? ]

→ You should get to work, get busy; closed to athessa & vanadi

[ Erik left a note at Athessa's. Now he just has to wait for them to show up. So he's chilling in the herb garden, again, this time at sunset. ]

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[ He waves an unconcerned hand, largely because the pot is across the kitchen, and he'd prefer to be right here. ]

No, no, I had my fill putting it all together. It's no good just guessing about taste, you know.

You don't just cook off a recipe in your head, you like, taste it and shit durin'?

[ Interesting. Erik can manage cooking but it's very much on a 'make food to eat to survive' kind of level, not a cooking for skill or taste type of thing. Ramen and veggies. He's really good at ramen and veggies. He does glance at Athessa once or twice, worried that she's going to eat too fast and be sick, but maybe that's just the way she eats. ]

That only matters with baking, [ Hanging around Colin so much has taught her that much. ] With cookin' it's different. Unless you're the person what came up with the recipe, there's no tellin' how it'll taste 'cos it was made by someone with a different mouth.

[ Makes perfect sense. Different mouth, different taste. ]

Well. She's not wrong. Baking is the one that requires precision, yes.

[ Even if "different mouth different taste" isn't quite how he'd describe it. Close enough, he supposes. And to Erik, with a lopsided grin: ]

You must not know many cooks.

[ Erik is nodding along, though. ]

'Cuz bakin's like chemistry, right? It's a science. You gotta follow directions or you'll fuck it up.

[ He shakes his head, flashing the gold in his teeth in a grin. ]

Nah. No cooks in my unit, and I can make a mean ramen from a package, but mostly I lived on takeout.

[ You what? ]

Raw...men?

[ yeah, uh ?? ]

Those don't tend to come in a package, in my experience.

Nah, nah, nah. [ Erik waves his hands in front of the three of them. ] It's not like that. See, I think I get a handle on this shit...They're dried noodles, come in a package. You boil water, add 'em for three minutes, add the water to the seasoning packet, and you've got pasta.

Ohhh, pasta.

[ They have THAT here. ]

...But it's not raw. Or it is raw, when it's in the package, but then you cook it...where do the men come in?

[ That's a great question, but not one Vanadi can speculate on. He's busy math ladying over here with the thought that uncooked pasta-kits can be assembled in advance, and maybe even sold individually? The thought process shows in his sudden staring silence, thanks Erik. ]

It's just another word for pasta in a different language. Rah-men. No men involved other than me. [ Taking another spoonful of his soup and raising eyebrows at Vanadi. ] Did I just break your brain?

[ Athessa mouths the word, ramen, and eats more soup. She can't help but be amused by Vanadi's math meme face. ]

Hmm?

[ He blinks, and it takes him a second, but his attention eventually refocuses on Erik. ]

No, no. I am considering becoming an entrepreneur, though. [ With a glance at Athessa: ] That doesn't already exist here, does it? Packets of preassembled pasta meals, for travel?

Gotcha.

[ He hasn't seen anything like it, but he hasn't been looking. ]

If you want a taste tester though, before you get all the big money, lemme know.

[ Athessa's face gives away her answer before she gives it. Mouth in an upside-down U shape, eyes wide, shoulders shrugging. ]

Not that I know of. We usually just pack dried meat and fruit and hardtack for traveling. Or hunt, ya know.

Gets old, doesn't it?

[ All interesting thoughts, but -- thoughts for later. He'd much rather consider present company. So, moving along: ]

That's interesting, though. The differences between this world and my last are largely geographical. And, of course, less variety among the peoples. What one thing from your original world would you bring here if you could, Erik?

Damn. I gotta think that over.

Kneejerk I wanna say a phone, but it would need... [ He waves a hand around his head. ] Too much infrastructure to actually work well, so, like. A portable music player would be my choice.

You can store recordings of sounds on the crystal, [ Athessa hooks the leather strap her crystal hangs on with one finger, tugging the necklace out from under her shirt. ]

I dunno how to do it — I mean I think I do, but I might be wrong. I tried to leave Derrica a message on Satinalia but she never responded.

[ Feels better to think Derrica simply didn't get her message than to think she got it, but has been ignoring it. 🙃 ]

[ Hmm, sounds like a good topic to swerve on. So, brightly: ]

Well, there you are then. Find a bard, store up a few songs, enjoy them later. It'll be just like home.

[ Things Erik doesn't mention: that he's met Derrica. He does nod along, still half-engaged with his soup, because he is listening to what Athessa says. ]

You can always practice with me. No one's hit me up on my line yet.

[ A laugh at Vanadi's suggestion, and then shaking his head. Even just imagining trying to walk someone through, say, a Jay-Z song is quite something. Hilarious, really, but still something. ]

I ain't the best one to be trying to teach anybody Top 40 hits from back home, anyway, but that's a cool idea. [ His crystal is in his pocket. ] What about you, what would you bring? [ Though he's gathered that Thedas is possibly closer to wherever Vanadi comes from than Erik's version of Earth, of the Sol system is to the here and now. ]

[ Definitely a topic to swerve on. ]

His wardrobe, probably...

[ Said into her soup bowl, though there's a teasing glint to the glance she gives Vanadi. He's definitely got higher standards for clothes than she does, anyway. ]

[ Thanks, Athessa. Vanadi gives her shoulder a nudge, somewhat reproach but mostly just fondness. ]

My sword, actually. It's been just long enough that I'm finally starting to miss it. [ A beat. ] But the wardrobe is a close second.

Damn. Sword's a good one. Clothes tho'. I miss some of the 'fits I had back home. The styles here are hella different. [ He shakes his head. ] Swords are an adjustment.

Well fuck, Vanadi, we can get you a sword.

[ His was probably special in some way, but if there's anything in Thedas that can be made special, it's weaponry. She looks past Vanadi at Erik, curious. ]

What's the fashion where you come from? That stretchy stuff in what you were wearing when you got here is pretty wild.

[ It was totally special: he summoned it whenever he needed it. It just won't be the same if he has to carry it around, gross. So he just smiles faintly, shrugging it off as a lost cause. ]

And — would you wear it if you had it, at risk of standing out quite a lot? There would be no surer way to mark yourself a rifter at first glance.

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