♞ 001 | Erik Lehnsherr | Day 48 ♞

[violenthearted]

[ Good morning, Losties Kore....ites, or whatever you are, please accept a video, featuring Erik's ever-present displeasure with his communicator. He has figured out how to work it by now, but this does not mean he likes it any better. B| Behind him, in the slices provided by the small screen, appears to be a kitchen, because that is exactly where he is. God forbid he sit in the living room or anywhere like, comfortable. So kitchen table it is. Charles is probably around somewhere, puttering, being British, but for the moment Erik appears to be alone.

And he has questions. Many questions.]

For those of you who failed to witness the catastrophe that was my arrival here, I'm Erik Lehnsherr. If that name means nothing to you, so much the better. If you think you have some idea of who I am - and I have come across those who do - let me state again for the record that I continue not to be a doctor of any kind, nor do I have any interest in adopting a moniker invented by bored adolescents.

That said. I'm looking for information on what appears to be an ever dwindling food supply. I understand you are provided with sustenance from the sky, but frankly I'm suspicious of quail. At best.

[It's a joke, see, because wandering forty years in the desert and bitching about manna and stuff--never mind.]

Has anyone looked into what might be done on our own terms? Anyone hunting, fishing, looking into the feasibility of farming? If someone's already taken that task on what I can only assume to be very level shoulders, I'd like to meet you. And if not, I'd like to be that person. Not - [he shrugs, loosely] that you're obliged to put your faith in a stranger. But I dislike idle hands, particularly when they're mine.

(ooc: this is forward-dated to the morning of day 48, in case that was not clear. :3 all replies will be video.)

Comments

[facilitated]

[ You know what the most important part of this whole post definitely was? Because Laura does, and when she switches on her feed there's narrow eyes and a small frown to show just how important it is. ]

What kind of monikers are these teenagers giving you? Are they any good?

[ ...What? She wants to know. ]

[violenthearted]

[Erik's face kind of--twitches. It might be a smile, it might be a wince. Who can say?]

There's a young man here you can ask. Calls himself Darwin, if that's any indication.

[Darwin is also by no means an adolescent. Erik doesn't care, you're all tinies to him.]

( video )

[rigging]

Nah, nobody's real trusting of the stuff that got dropped, since some of it blew up, and some of it had spiders. Helpful, right?

There's this girl Ruby though, I think, she was hunting a while back. [ Shrug. ] Nice, that she is. 'Cause I can live on Pringles for about two weeks before I feel like a broke s'fuck college student.

( video )

[violenthearted]

Wise of you. I'm almost sorry I missed it. [And he is, too, because frankly a person gets used to living in a ridiculous state of high adrenaline when ...existing. In Erikland.]

I'll look out for her. Although I've been, as you say - [let him mimic your speech pattern carefully, Jesse, with a faint trace of smile] broke as fuck, and while it's unpleasant I'm more concerned about malnutrition. Or the consequences should our gracious hosts decide it might be interesting to watch what we're willing to do in order to remain fed.

[evolv]

I don't know, man. I think Magneto suits you. It has authority and swagger.

But anyway, I'll help fish, if you want. Never tried it before but it can't be too hard, right?

[violenthearted]

[Erik ...cannot even remotely help looking pleased by this. Authority and swagger? FOUR FOR YOU, Darwin.]

I'll bear that in mind. [So dry.] And please yourself, I could always use a man of your talents.

[enchangement]

There is a hunter named Ruby. Offered venison upon arrival.

Found a teapot. [ For Charles, clearly. ]

And mint.

[violenthearted]

River.

[Erik's genuine pleasure at seeing you, please marvel at it. It sort of makes him look his own age, and not ...ten thousand, in stress years.]

There are deer, then. Useful. [He files away the new information singular to River, which gets its own significance. What he interprets - correctly - as a small but extraordinary kindness earns a separate but no less genuine smile. This may be the point where River learns he can make that expression without looking like a shark full of chum.]

Now you have only to find tea. [A beat.] That crash you just heard may have been Charles falling down the stairs in his haste to get to you.

[There was no crash, Erik is just a fucking troll.]

[Video]

[thelittlestbub]

[She's munching something that looks like jerky. It is. Venison jerky. Living with Logan rocks.]

This mean you don't like me? I'm hurt.

[She'd pout, but... eating.]

[Video]

[violenthearted]

I don't find I have much feeling about you one way or the other. [Yet.] But we ought to talk. When you have a moment.

[Since she's busy with her snack there.]

[gleans]

Yeaaah, the crates weren't a whole lot to work with. A lotta snacks and, uh, snakes. [ Ha, he's amused with himself for a moment. ]

Some of us are looking into hunting. There's like, deer and stuff out in the woods. Rabbits. Sabre-tooth tigers. Nnnnot sure how great those'd taste.

[violenthearted]

Snakes and spiders. Any casualties? [He is trying to gauge 'threat level,' you see. He may also be having a beautiful moment imagining the taste of sabre-tooth tigers. (Not really.)]

If the deer and rabbit run out one supposes we'll have bigger problems. [ You know. Bigger problems than whether or not the large, difficult to kill things are tasty.]

video:

[charring]

[Charlie's picking at a bowl of cooked ramen and vegetables. She doesn't look excited about it and even if it does look freshly made, there's not a whole lot in her bowl. It's a snack sized amount, if that. She's used to surviving off of very little so this doesn't seem to bother her.]

Someone tried organizing something a week or so back. But then they weren't heard from.

video:

[violenthearted]

How often does that happen?

[Disappearances, which Erik interprets to mean 'deaths.' Since, yanno. History.]

[manofiron]

Some of us hunt, yeah. Some people are even good at it. Who knew, right?

[ But he's not going into that. One of their best hunters is gone, and he doesn't talk about things that actually bother him. ]

Listen, PSA. Steer clear of the tigers. I need them.

[violenthearted]

[Talking about things that bother you is for chumps.]

You need them.

[These are the eyebrows of a man who must know, truly.]

[agentx13]

Magneto.

[Yep. Someone's day just got brighter.]

[violenthearted]

[Ah. Please don't tell him you think he's a doctor.]

If you must.

[Must you, Sharon? Must you?]

[ellectric]

Talk to Logan, the guy with the weird hair who isn't a vegetarian. He does that stuff.

[violenthearted]

That's quite a description.

[thezerothlaw]

I suspect farming will have to wait until conditions grow more appropriate for planting. However, it would be wise to plan ahead for this eventuality now. Domestication of wild animals is also a possibility. I would suggest the deer of the area are the most valid target for this process. Once they are contained within a fenced area, selective breeding can be used to produce relatively tame individuals who are amenable to being milked. Perhaps this is achievable within a few years.

[He's been... reading.]

[violenthearted]

Planning ahead is a specialty of mine. Do you expect to spend years here?

[He's ...mildly horrified by the prospect, although his face doesn't betray much.]

[mentis]

Please tell me, Erik - [ Appearing at the doorway, a fond and outright ridiculous grin on his face. ] - How does one actively putter around being British? Am I supposed to hum the National Anthem or perhaps recite the Magna Carta?

[ Touching his temple lightly as a clue. ] Because I'd hate to disappoint you.

[amazing kitchen action!]

[violenthearted]

[If a person (that person being...Charles, probably), were to tell Erik the way his face just lit up, he would never believe them.]

Good morning, Charles. [He props his chin on one hand in a parody of quizzical interest.] Puttering, you eavesdropping menace, strikes me inherently British as is.

[anniethedayplanner]

[Oh good. Someone who has an actual plan. Or at least is trying to formulate one when it comes to this particular problem. It's a worry that's been on the edge of her mind - after all, hadn't Laura told her they were running out of food when she'd arrived?

She puts on her professional game face when she responds, her tone aiming for someone who is much more experienced and put together than she is at the moment. Professional!Annie.]

I haven't been here very long, so I'm not sure if someone else has already addressed this concern, but if you need any help I would be happy to offer my services. I can't hunt, but I do have some experience in yam growing.

[What? She had grown a yam. Biology wasn't a total waste of time. Okay, actually... but who knew? Maybe it would actually come in handy.]

...Or organization. I've run over a dozen volunteer operations in the last two years. I makes lists of lists.

[She lifts her chin.]

I'd just like to help... somehow.

[violenthearted]

[If Erik doesn't have a plan in place he feels at loose ends. A plan gives him direction toward his next feasible goal; in this case that's getting out, of course, just like it probably is for everyone on the cape. But he judges that's best done in peak physical condition, and he can't do that if he's not eating.]

Tasks can be found for anyone willing. [Which Erik thinks ought to be like ...everyone, frankly, but probably no one should act on his opinions too seriously, since some of his others involve blood and death and other unsavory substances.] If we're serious about agriculture - and we ought to be - a rotation of labor would prove useful. That alone requires organization.

action-jackson

[enchangement]

[ Roughly an hour and a half after she last spoke to Charles and Erik, a shoeless girl in an apple-patterned dress and heavy black sweatshirt appears on the doorstep of house eight.

She doesn't exactly knock. Instead she merely shifts from foot to foot in front of the shut door and begin to loudly hum a few bars of some tune probably made more for a gǔqín than a human voice.

Still and yet, River thinks why should she ring a doorbell when she can be one? ]

[mentis]

[ Charles answers the door with less suspicion than the other man of the house might, his smile wide and pleased. ]

River, hello. [ He tries to straighten out his oversized shirt, ushering her in. ] What an interesting sound that was. How are you?

[hark_and_hush]

I've been hunting. It's not safe to go too far into the woods, but the deer come pretty close to the edge of the town and I can identify at least a few edible plants here. The library is small, but it's still useful.

[violenthearted]

Does the population seem to replenish itself? If we're to assume our hosts have laid out the land, so to speak.

Private/Voice

[chlorophylliac]

The ground's frozen solid. As far as outdoor planting goes, there's no point even trying until the thaw starts. All that's feasible now is clearing a patch and considering a sustainable source of fertilizer. Any hunters should be able to provide the blood and bone from their kills but drying and processing will take time.

I discussed domestic hydroponics with River; building a greenhouse should also be possible if you can salvage enough glass, but for anything to grow at this time of year it would need its own heat source.

Fast-growing leafy vegetables should take priority as the most prolific source of supplemental vitamins. Root vegetables and grain crops will need to be considered over a period of months, not weeks. [For most people, anyway.]