can_has_vodka | for lastvoyages: First Vision [video+spam]

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for lastvoyages: First Vision [video+spam]

[Have a spritely young bald woman in filmy clothes, perching on a scratched wooden desk and beaming at you. Her eyes are bright, bright purple and almost seem to glow slightly, and she is very pale.]

Hullo everybody! I'm Arkady, and I'm from the Island of Whitechapel. Of course, for most of you Whitechapel isn't an island, but we had a little problem with the Thames getting loose from its banks, and ever since then things have been a bit wet in London. Whitechapel has about twice as many people as this place, and we just took on a hundred more. We'll make do, though. We just need to pull together. [It's not clear whether she's speaking of Whitechapel or the Barge. Both maybe?]

I'm to be a Warden here, and if there's a need for help anywhere, do let me know! [She pauses, blinks at the screen, and then leeeeans forward and peers into it as if she can see some of you on the other side. A giggle; the purple eyes blink and she pulls back again.]

I'll be up on Deck in the gardens if anyone wants to say hello! Yay flowers!

[A few seconds later she literally appears a few feet from the Colour Garden, which she immediately crouches down to inspect.] Hello flowers!

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[He gives her a lop-sided smile, then examines where she's looking.] Oh. I wonder if that's Dracula. I've no idea if anyone is getting the tools out for him these days.

Hee hee hee hee! The claws that killed are pruning roses! [She does a pirouette and then blinks at him.] Turning a sword into a ploughshare takes a lot of hammering.

In Whitechapel the garden was on platforms atop the Ten Bells, so that it would be undisturbed unless you wished to climb all the way up. He had a great lot of old bathtubs being used as planters, and great raincatchers made from fuel drums and tarapulins. We learned to make do with whatever we had there. But the rain water was clean and the berries sweet.

[Armand stands very still, considering her flamboyant actions and words.] He likes the garden, so I understand. If it helps gentle his senses, then I'm approving.

[He looks around, almost sad.] This isn't necessary for survival. Mostly. We have enough food provided most of the time, but we're far from home here. People need plants, I think.

People need living things. Plants...animals...each other. And the fruits of their own labors. Like this apple. [She points at one hanging from a tree above her head]. Will it taste better than one from the kitchens? No, save for someone who sweated and earned blisters in the growing of it.

I think you would like Whitechapel. No one takes anything for granted there.

I might. I am not prepared to live somewhere where life is hard again. I have too many bad memories of my last year in Paris.

[Then he frowns, more at himself than anything else.] I shouldn't say such things. I don't even think much of it anymore. I miss my home, but my family is in England.

Life isn't so hard there. Not like France has had it...how many times has Paris been a trial to live in? We have no plagues, there is food for all, and a doctor.

And we just got chikkens! We should have them here. There is something magical about an egg fresh from the hen.

I never quite researched all the times after the one I lived in, I'm afraid. It had a horrid enough name as it was. True as well.

[He frowns at her mention of chickens. You can see almost see him repeat it in his head a few times.] Chickens? Is that what you said?

Yes.

You see, one of us does nothing but salvage. Going out in his boat and finding things we can use. And one day he came home with a great big boatload of brown hens. They were so beautiful! Fresh eggs!

We have eggs. [He suspected he was missing the point.]

Perhaps not fresh. Chickens are messy. Maybe if you told the Admiral they were pets...

Oh yes, I know. They poop. [She pulls a face.] I would have to clean up after them. But that is all right.

[Staaaaare as he head slowly tilts]

Why don't you have a nice little cat for your hearth?

[Another frown.] You can read minds. Either that, or you're very insightful.

I don't know why I don't. Last year, it was mostly because I was sick so often.

I can, but I haven't been rummaging about in yours. But insight is my business. I've been in a cat's mind. A nice mellow one would be very compatible with a soft-spoken and gentlemanly Frenchman, I think.

I had Freya for a little bit. I could ask the Admiral for a cat of my own I suppose. Freya is still partially mine, or so Loki says. [She's embarrassing him a bit now.]

I do like animals, but I'm not the most attentive...

[She hides a smile behind her hand, resisting the temptation to blush the Armand further, though it is wicked fun.]

Cats collect people. They don't let go easily.

Perhaps you should ask for a week with her, and see how you feel? [She gives a wise-little-sister sort of smile and blinkes her eyes.]

I could consider that. I'm very fond of her.

Yes, well...the Admiral warned me that this is a hard job. And unless one has reasons to smile and relax sometimes a hard job can wear one down to dust.

It's not all terrible. I have a few friends, my former inmate among them.

But I do get lonely.

I can help with that! But a cat is always there, and they are less high maintenance than a puppy.

I knew that much... I suppose I'm a little afraid after what happened to Marigold.

You would? That's terribly kind of you. I'm a stranger yet.

You're a stranger, and I'm a strange stranger. But I can tell much by how people react to me.

And I get lonely too.

Back home there are twelve of us and then Alice. I am used to being close with people. We look after each other. It is absolutely necessary and we have gotten good at it.

The looking-after makes me happy. As do animals.

[He gave her another smile.]

I'll try to be worth the effort then. I'm told I can be... difficult.

I hope you get an inmate who needs looking after that way.

You're not difficult. Luke was difficult. All selfish and mean and digging into normal people's minds like he had the right. But we still kept him and helped him so he learned not to do that. You? [She beams at him.] I imagine your "difficult" falls well within my "worth the effort anyway."

[Still with the embarrassment.] I--tis hard to explain.

I get emotional, sometimes far too much.

I would be honored with your friendship, though.

That's all right. Everyone has problems. I get mumbly and strange and sometimes blurt out things I shouldn't. Oh and I do pop in on people unexpectedly.

I think we'll manage all right!

You could be right.

...

Please try not to pop in on me in my cabin without warning.

for lastvoyages: First Vision [video+spam]

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