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.
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.