[open-ish] limping from the darkness

[thereneverwas]

WHO: Barrow + you (with a couple closed starters)
WHAT: May catch-all
WHEN: after the Gallows attack
WHERE: hither and thither
NOTES: feel free to wildcard or hit me up for a prompt if you'd like one!

I. Cleanup Cleanup Everybody Everywhere

The work is seemingly unending, and Barrow swears the debris that needs hauling and arranging and rehauling has started multiplying like rabbits when he's not looking.
Being of a persuasion more geared toward physical labor, he's doing his best to oversee those less inclined to move heavy things around, coaching and helping and cleaning and not getting enough rest and then doing it all over again the next day. He tries to keep things upbeat, with a song or a joke here and there; he's not the only one struggling, after all.

When not throwing himself into the effort of cleaning the rubble of the fallen towers, Barrow can sometimes be found relaxing in the chair he salvaged from the attack: his King of the Training Yard pavilion was decimated but small victories deserve to be celebrated. He smokes a cigarette, hums to himself, stares into the middle distance, and is happy to make conversation pleasant or otherwise with whomever takes him up on it.

II. Camping

No stranger to roughing it on the road, Barrow has made his home in a shared tent around where the training yard used to be. He's only found in it when he's sleeping, really, but the usual entourage of cats hangs around, and it's audible to all when he and Lazar are bickering.
Or snoring.
(loudly)

III. Wildcard

[fingerguns]


for Research nerds

With the workrooms back up and running at least in a limited sense, there's one day mid-month that Barrow pokes his head into the door and scans the occupants.

"I know you're busy," he announces to anyone listening, "but if you've a moment, I'd like your thoughts on something."

Comments

[thereneverwas]

"I'm not turning down anything," Barrow hastily replies, putting out his hands in a stilling motion-- let's not be hasty here, there's room for ballistae AND cannons in my heart.

"Do we have access to gaatlok? Or something like it?" Maker knows what the Rifters are capable of.

A pleasant nod to Cosima, whom he makes no move to detain.

[grindset]

Without looking up from his desk, and in measured tone, Viktor interjects:

"Let us not overlook the defensive qualities of the fortress itself. Prior to Madame de Foncé's departure," a subject for which he has compressed all his feelings into a featureless slab suitable for public viewing, "she and I had begun some foundational work on an arcane barrier system. It was intended for the airship, but could be translated."

[pathlit]

Mobius' quip earns a brief, upward quirk of his lips. Jayce's eyes alight on each person as they speak, though to Viktor, perhaps, not quite as directly.

"We could work on both: improve existing equipment and look into superior options." He rubs his chin idly. "If we can't put together an easily accessible analogue of gunpowder, then the cannon-angle's a no-go."

Not to mention firearms, but if they could readily access the means to enchant items, then...

To Barrow, he looks while gesturing to the plans on the desk and says, "I'll draft up a quick schematic of a cannon, get you up to speed. Talk comparisons, logistics, if it's worth looking into recreating gaatlok. Will tomorrow work?"