Fridtjof Djt-bidit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
paladinforhire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pluviosa2024-07-12 09:28 pm
paladinforhire) wrote in pluviosa2024-07-12 09:28 pm
[Open] words within the squall
Who: Fridtjof and Open
What: Doing various tasks around the ship, Fridtjof is open for bothering.
Where: Deck R3, Deck 0, Deck R2
When: Day 23+, after the info meeting
Warnings: /shrug but possibly zone 6 Endwalker spoilers
The Bun is In
Fridtjof is often found in the clinic - the one Ratio's taken over, at least. He's slowly learning about the different kinds of medicines, even if some of them seem a bit... redundant to him. Even still, he's doing his best - and so he finds himself humming to himself as he sorts papers or writes down notes.
If he hears someone come in he'll look up. "Ah, hello. What can I do for you?" Or maybe they just heard his tune? It's jaunty, but not something he can really do without a full orchestra. And he's no bard, anyway.
Whistle While You Whittle
Where he does start singing is when he's sitting on the top deck. He's got a large knife and a hunk of wood. Whatever it is he's singing, it sounds pretty melancholy. He's stripping pieces from the wood slowly with his blade and working on making it roughly circular.
He doesn't look busy at least, so he might as well be pestered. Given the tone of what he's singing he might well welcome the distraction. He seems a bit lost in thought, though a sudden noise is sure to draw his attention.
Washing Away
He... isn't used to this kind of machinery. He's got a bundle of sheets in his arms and is staring at the washing machines. Tentatively he presses a button and jumps back when the machine starts to rumble. He presses the button again to try to stop it but it's... not stopping.
He's not even sure what he should use as soap. He does have a good amount of dirt in his sheets. He tries to keep it clean but... well. One can only track through decks covered in plants and not get things dirty for so long.
Help. Help this poor man.
What: Doing various tasks around the ship, Fridtjof is open for bothering.
Where: Deck R3, Deck 0, Deck R2
When: Day 23+, after the info meeting
Warnings: /shrug but possibly zone 6 Endwalker spoilers
The Bun is In
Fridtjof is often found in the clinic - the one Ratio's taken over, at least. He's slowly learning about the different kinds of medicines, even if some of them seem a bit... redundant to him. Even still, he's doing his best - and so he finds himself humming to himself as he sorts papers or writes down notes.
If he hears someone come in he'll look up. "Ah, hello. What can I do for you?" Or maybe they just heard his tune? It's jaunty, but not something he can really do without a full orchestra. And he's no bard, anyway.
Whistle While You Whittle
Where he does start singing is when he's sitting on the top deck. He's got a large knife and a hunk of wood. Whatever it is he's singing, it sounds pretty melancholy. He's stripping pieces from the wood slowly with his blade and working on making it roughly circular.
He doesn't look busy at least, so he might as well be pestered. Given the tone of what he's singing he might well welcome the distraction. He seems a bit lost in thought, though a sudden noise is sure to draw his attention.
Washing Away
He... isn't used to this kind of machinery. He's got a bundle of sheets in his arms and is staring at the washing machines. Tentatively he presses a button and jumps back when the machine starts to rumble. He presses the button again to try to stop it but it's... not stopping.
He's not even sure what he should use as soap. He does have a good amount of dirt in his sheets. He tries to keep it clean but... well. One can only track through decks covered in plants and not get things dirty for so long.
Help. Help this poor man.
yes he will take the cance to cuddle the bunny (kinda)
"I...see." He doesn't, not really. He wouldn't let something as intangible as a code stop him from seeing his family again, but...his life is not Fridtjof's. He just grimaces. "At...least yours is practiced because of living peoples' choices, than that of one long dead. I don't...hold to my own religion or beliefs too much. The parts I do are for...who they remind me of who practiced, more than for the belief itself." A brief pause. "I don't...really understand that code, but I can respect it...because it's important to you?" He still looks a bit bothered by this Green Word, more on Fridtjof's behalf than his own.
He looks up from where his feet hang over the ledge, fascinated. "So that's...normal? It's okay?" Sounds like there are many reasons. It's definitely complicated for him...if he never goes back to the IPC, he's not Aventurine anymore. He isn't even really now. But he's not quite Kakavasha anymore either? But then where does that- what is-
An arm winds around his shoulders, and he stiffens at the contact, his fidgets going still. It's...gentle, though, careful, and warm. It has gotten a little windy and chilly up here. Fridtjof is...good. He's kind, and warm. This is okay? He's...this isn't bad actually...
It takes a moment of frozen silence, but then Aventurine seems to kind of melt into the contact, letting himself lean into Fridtjof's side. It's...nice. It reminded him of family, of sitting with his sister and listening to stories under the stars. He's still a little embarrassed, but...Fridtjof reached out first. So it's okay. Probably? It's been awhile...
He huffs softly, his feet kicking again but with a slower rhythm. He looks up, returning the smile with a chuckle. "Right, you're a long-lived species. Er...sorry. Term from the job," he adds, shaking his head, his hair brushing Fridtjof's shoulder. "That is a long time to figure stuff out. Going out into the world, it gets so big...I guess it worked out." He wouldn't have met the man, otherwise. The thought is saddening...
His smile goes wistful, a little distant. "Good. It's good to enjoy the freedom you have, I think. Following who you care for, keeping them close. Seeing new sights...sounds nice."
He pauses a moment longer, thinking...not happy thoughts. Even that seemed out of reach for him. And he's..."Hey, Fridtjof? This might sound...ridiculous to you, since we have such different lifespans but...since you live so long do you ever feel...I don't know. Tired? And no matter how long you rest, it won't be enough?" He's not sure he's saying it right. He's not even sure what it is, but...living so long just sounds...really hard, in some ways. And the viera don't even have the risk of Mara corruption, as far as he can tell! Aventurine himself faces none of that, and yet he's just...exhausted. Alot. He's away from work, from Jade, from everything, he should be better now right??
bnnuy will take care of him
The other's confusion is kind of adorable... he nods. "It's a personal matter. Someone else's opinion on your name shouldn't matter. It's what you want to be called, not someone else." He leans into the contact now that he knows Aventurine isn't opposed. He's a good person, even if he seems... lost.
The question has him think a moment, ear twitching. "I do. I've seen many crises over my years, and it always feels that if I don't help take care of them, no one will. Or they'll fall on another to bear it alone - and I can't... I won't do that to them." He reaches over with his free hand, turning as he places it onto the other's head gently and starting to card his fingers through the younger man's hair. "And if I rest, people will get hurt. Or something that needs to be done won't get done, or - or a million other things. I -"
He can admit this to Aventurine. He's already been this open. "I'm afraid, to tell the truth. I'm afraid that I won't be able to do what needs to be done. I'm afraid that if I rest, it's only going to make things worse." He lowers his gaze a little, a bit ashamed. What kind of Wood Warder is afraid? "I tell others to rest, and yet I don't do so myself. I know it's foolish of me - what kind of life can I live if I burn myself too quickly? - but I can't help my feelings. ... I may have more years than you, but I think we'd be considered around the same age. I'm no less foolish than anyone else who's young."
Aw. Congrats, Aventurine will now die for bnnuy
It's probably good Aventurine doesn't notice Fridtjof finds this adorable. He would just get more embarrassed! As it is, he's just finding it nice to lean on him. It's...safer, it feels. "Even if it's an employer with my life in their hands?" He chuckles, slightly bitter, but that calms too when the viera leans back on him, a reassuring weight. "I guess I just...need to figure out what I want that to be while I'm here, then."
Dual colored eyes flick to look up at Fridtjof, taking in the regret and worry. "...No one stood for my people when...during the raids." Fridtjof saw a bit of it. He can...he can say it. A little. "There were people who could, but turned away." A sharp grin spreads across his face. "Until they could profit off me, of course. Then it takes me teleporting to a weird haunted boat to escape their sights, go figure." He sighs, shaking his head. "...Honestly I didn't think people like you existed. People who wanna help. But...it sounds exhausting. I hope you have that friend of yours to back you up...on your own you could get hurt or killed or-"
Careful, gentle fingers start running through his hair, making his racing thoughts slow down, soothing his flaring anxiety down to dying embers. He hums contentedly, leaning into the touch so much his head kinda...flops on Fridtjof's shoulder.
"If y' don't rest, then you get hurt though...not a good trade off, if y'ask me," he murmurs, his eyes half closed. He is vaguely aware of the hypocrisy of that statement. He also may be going kind of boneless against the other; if he were any sort of Miqo'te, he would most likely be purring right now.
He is not beating the touch starved cat allegations here."Mmm...yeah. That's alot, Fridtjof, m'sorry." His arm that's between the both of them raises behind Fridtjof's back, clasping the viera's shoulder and giving what he hopes is a comforting squeeze. The tiredness is really setting in for Aventurine, though, and that arm kind of flops down around the other man's waist, a loosely returned side-hug. "Being scared...sucks. But it's normal, isn't it? I hate it too...but hey, better than...nothing. Feeling nothing is the worst...like you forgot what's important. Important enough to fight for and...and maybe to rest for, too."
bnnuy will be upset if he dies! don't do that!
As Aventurine speaks of his people, he feels his anger build. Why did no one stand up for them? Why did someone have to hurt them? Why do people care about profit so much? It's like the bloody merchants in Ul'dah - nothing matters but coin. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his hand sliding down so he can wrap his arms around Aventurine's torso, hugging him gently. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to deal with all of that. It's not godsdamn fair that someone like you would get hurt like that. You deserve better. You deserve more, your people deserve more." He thinks of the child he saw and the clear loss of innocence in the man before him and gives him a somewhat tighter squeeze.
"I... I know I need to rest. We both do. Hopelessness creeps in around the corners of life, and it's hard fighting it back. It's difficult to be hopeful. ... But it's easier when there are other people around who can help." He nuzzles the top of the other's head, a slight flush on his face. It's not - he doesn't like Aventurine like that, but it's... he feels too close to do any other gesture.