A. Rama Raju (
load_aim_shoot) wrote in
singillatim2024-03-03 01:06 pm
Entry tags:
(closed)
Who: A. Rama Raju, Edward Little, Francis Crozier, William Gibson
What: experiencing/dealing with the horrors
When: after the recent Darkwalker attack, around the time of the town meeting, and after one of the aurora nights
Where: one outside the Community Hall, the other on the outskirts
Content Warnings: Ned's fire trauma, little mention of Raju's trauma that I'll CW for on the comment title. If anything else comes up I'll add!
What: experiencing/dealing with the horrors
When: after the recent Darkwalker attack, around the time of the town meeting, and after one of the aurora nights
Where: one outside the Community Hall, the other on the outskirts
Content Warnings: Ned's fire trauma, little mention of Raju's trauma that I'll CW for on the comment title. If anything else comes up I'll add!

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He looks over at the shredded mushrooms on the floor and back again, eyebrows raised, expression expectant. If Francis wants to try his mushroom trick again, Raju's expression says, innocently, then Raju's willing to go over and get one.
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He smirks softly. "Hold the damn plank and nail, and let's get this hole covered."
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“I’d like to find something to cover those edges with, too,” he notes after a moment of watching Francis’ hand to be at least mostly certain that his fingers will be mostly safe. His smile lingers, fading a little as he shifts his focus. “Glue or something. Something will come through otherwise, if the storms here are anything like the sandstorms back in Delhi.”
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“Caulking would do nicely, if we could find it.” It’s a shame Hickey wasn’t the real caulker’s mate; it would have been useful in this place.
His thoughts drift to Fitzjames at the mention of sandstorms. Didn’t he have a story similar to that? What he wouldn’t give to have him here now to vex him half to death with his annoying bloody stories.
“Tell me about the sandstorms? I’ve never been anywhere that’s capable of forming them.”
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He turns back toward Francis, holding up the next piece of wood he's hunted down. As much of a to-do as Raju had made about the mushrooms, it helps that Francis has already started here, so a lot of the materials are nearby already.
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"It's different here," he says, going back to the talk of storms. "The howl of the wind and the sounds of the ice hitting the trees, it's different. And the company's very different. The wait isn't filled with boredom, but anticipation."
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He’s managed most days to keep himself a little busy — he’s had to — but busy enough is a distant dream by this point. The restlessness here is almost as unyielding as the cold, though it drove him here today too, so at least for the moment, he shouldn’t really complain.
He’s going to complain. It’s damned annoying, the lack of anything that matters to get done here, even on the days it’s not actively awful.
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But he won’t begrudge Raju a little complaining. It’s cold and harsh and no one has a clue what’s going on in this damned place. The day-to-day is mind-numbing for anyone who can’t lose themselves to a routine.
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Raju looks away from the nail to Francis' face, not quite embarrassed, but aware that his reasons for never going to the place after it'd been uncovered might not seem as sound aloud. "How are they, the hot springs? Did you try them?"
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He swings the hammer and the nail sinks in easily. "You haven't gone yet?"
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He huffs a laugh at himself as he sets the next nail into place, shaking his head. "Walking out of that cave was bad enough without even going in the water. Going back into the cold again. Didn't want to get too used to being warm. Does it help your joints for long, afterward? Or only while you're still inside?"
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He motions for Raju to hold another nail up and readies the hammer. "And yes, it helps my joints for the rest of the damn day."
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"Does anything else help?" he holds the next nail in place obediently, thoughtlessly following the urge to solve this new problem. "Rice is too dear to use in a hot pack here, but there must be something else. Sand if we could find it, something to tie up in a cloth and put next to the fire until it's warm enough."
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“Fresh meat keeps the scurvy away, vegetables and fresh herbs. That’s what’s best for the joints now, never mind the rest.” Keeping the scurvy at bay will always be his first concern.
Crozier steps back to inspect their work. “You are eating well, are you not?”
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He gives a sheepish half-smile, a shrug. “There’s been plenty of time for gathering herbs,” he says, both because it’s true and because it’s the safest part of the question to answer. “The ones that grow here, anyway. I think I’ve had enough rosehip tea to last me the rest of my life.”
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Crozier sets his hammer down for a moment to look for yet another hole to patch while he has two more good hands to help. “You’ll come to the spring with me, mn?”
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He motions to the next hole and the plank that he's fairly certain will get the job done. "For the cold! And because it's an indulgence, and suffering for the sake of suffering is something I do. Christ, is this what I sound like? I want to kick my own arse."
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Crozier grins and hands him the hammer. “Finish up this patch while I fix us something to eat.” Nothing fancy, of course, some sort of stew with unevenly-chopped root vegetables. The height of Arctic gourmet!
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"Where did those come from?" he asks, once the vegetables come out. "You found them?"
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"You go out looking for those things often?" Raju asks instead, watching from over Francis' shoulder. "How far do you have to go?"
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Time Skip!
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