A. Rama Raju (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
load_aim_shoot) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
singillatim2024-03-03 01:06 pm
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!
fish preparation time now
The joke’s on Francis; Raju wants to do this, fish all over him and all, just to prove that he can learn it and be of use, that he can master it as well as a single round of fishing will allow.
He hands the cup back — not quite as warm as it was, but the taste is a welcome break from pine needles — and goes to his knees on the ice, tugging at the blanket around him so at least some of it sits under his legs, between his clothes and the cold. Then he looks for the right knife and cuts carefully, shallow, base to head the way Francis had demonstrated. That done, he reaches inside— then reaches inside some more, frowns, pulls out the insides of it a couple at a time, not in the single perfect movement Francis had used. Raju will have to practice it.
“How do you cut them?” he asks, frown deepening a little with each couple parts of organ that he pulls out, and the smell they’re starting already to bring with them. “Any shape in particular?”
no subject
He wasn’t being facetious; he can damn well tell that Raju’s good with a knife, a spear, his fists, any other thing he decides to put his time into. He expects this will be no different.
“That’s a different operation entirely. You can chop off the head and fins, descale and debone the body, try your hand at cutting a filet - but it can wait until it’s ready to be cooked. Just focus on scraping out the insides for any remains and rinsing it out.”
no subject
"I see why you threw these out so quickly now. That smell..." Still, Raju leaves them where they are. Francis had mentioned making use of them, when Raju had asked, and so that's what he wants to do. He wants to show that he can do this properly.
He tries shaking his hand a little again; aside from a couple splatters of the liquid on it over the ice, the gesture doesn't do much good. "You chop them up don't you, though? And use them? I can put them in that jar with the rest of your bait once I, ah... do whatever it is you do with these."
According to the face he's making, Raju doubts anyone could actually do much. It isn't like he hadn't expected it to be disgusting, but he hadn't expected the smell to be this strong. And it's on him. And the smell is going to linger, he's sure, even after he rinses it off.
no subject
At this point Crozier finds the smell less off-putting than the feeling of scraped scales all over his bare skin, sticking to everything in sight. The smell…he can handle the smell.
He has to fight a laugh at Raju and the prissy little wrinkle in the bridge of his nose. “Just toss it,” he tells him, “we have plenty of bait. We don’t need more stinking fish meat hanging about.”
no subject
“Ah—“ He rubs together the fingers of the hand that’d only held the fish, not scooped it out. Still a little sticky. The wrinkle at the bridge of his nose isn’t as deep as it was, but it lingers. He holds his hands out, palm up. “Do you mind rinsing these for me?”
That’s the one good thing about being on top of the ice, maybe: when you do clean off, you don’t have to worry about what the water’s dripping onto.
no subject
Oh, he’s being so precious about this whole ordeal! Crozier huffs under his breath and fetches the pot of tea, warm enough still to work for this makeshift vanity.
It’s a little silly, going through the motions like this to keep clean and presentable when every day is a struggle. He doesn’t disagree with it though; there was a reason he’d shaved daily when they were still hauling.
Crozier drips the warm herb-water over Raju’s hands, letting it spill onto the icy floor below. He gives his hands a few more rinses and sets aside the pan to rub the water into the pads of his fingers and his palms.
“I missed bathing,” he says quietly. “When I was with the Netsilik. It was difficult to keep clean in freezing weather, and I was a bit of an oddity to begin with.”
no subject
The thoughts are pushed aside when Francis starts rubbing at his hands afterward. He looks surprised again and then smiles, touched at the consideration; the herbs and the thorough attention are both going to help with the smell.
The quiet tone when Francis speaks has Raju looking up from their hands, smile fading into attention. "What did you do?" he asks almost as quietly, wanting to know about the Netsilik, about Francis. Particularly about Francis. "To keep clean? And what did they do?"
no subject
"Washed with melt water, when we could. Occasionally we'd bathe in the sea when it thawed, or the rivers and streams." His fingers slide between Raju's, lacing them together and then wiggling to get those final areas that needed a good scrub. He smiles playfully as he pulls back and gives each hand a final rinse.
He should have anticipated that Raju would need to clean up in between each fish, but it's an easy fix. Just gather more snow and boil more roots.
"I tried to bathe every morning. I'd scrub my face and my hair, and they'd all laugh and laugh as I struggled. Eventually I stopped trying so hard, but I managed to keep to my ablutions at least once a week with the help of some sympathetic friends. They pitied me."
no subject
But Francis is smiling as he scrubs at Raju’s hands, seeming cheerful and happy to do this service for Raju as he talks about it. Strange isn’t it, the gesture, from an older man? But Francis seems to be enjoying himself, and Raju certainly isn’t going to complain.
So Francis seems to be in good humour. There should be plenty of room still for asking questions. “What did you need their help for? Staying warm long enough to finish up?”
no subject
Perhaps the act’s just a little break in all the tension the day had heaped on them, but it does make him feel better to do something so mundane as washing his friend’s hands. “Gathering up the snow for the meltwater, building the fire. Something like that uses up a lot of oil, and it’s not something I had to spare.”
He relied on their generosity for all things. It was all he could do to be halfway useful sometimes, and even then when they had him minding the children he’d spook them with his face and red beard.
But Raju’s hands are clean, so he steps back. “Speaking of which, I’m going to gather more snow.”
He’ll duck out without another word, happy to replenish their stores.