redshiftlogs | Jacob Frye Catch-All

Who: Jacob Frye + OPEN
What: Various: causing trouble, planning trouble, generally trouble
When: March? March. March is good!
Where: Anchor, different spots here and there.

Sequence 1: Take a Leap of Faith - OPEN

If you could ask Jacob Frye what the best thing about being an assassin was, he wouldn't even have to think about the answer.

For a start, there is very little about being an assassin that he very much likes. The fighting is fun, but you don't need to be an assassin to get into a fight club, or a gang for that matter. Assassins don't generally fight if they can help it either, they're meant to sneak in, find their target, dispatch them, leave. The weapons? They're fun, the gauntlet is one of his dearest possessions. But it doesn't come close to the thrill of free falling.

Breath snatched from your lungs, heart beating against your ribs, adrenaline filling every inch of you as the wind whistles past.

It's dangerous, he knows that. One tiny miscalculation can kill you, and when you're leaping from such high points there is no room for error. Maybe that's another part of the excitement. Cheating death.

He'd done it in the City, of course he had. But somehow in Anchor, that central cavernous space above the park calls to him. So much open space between one side and the other, so little to get in your way.

Even just stood here, on the ledge of one of the many levels, he feels his heartbeat begin to race. He's picking his spot, working out the landing and simply enjoying the anticipation of it. Anyone passing by might be very concerned to see a man stood there on the very edge, so high from the ground.

But those watching from below might be surprised to see him fall: arms outstretched and wind whipping at his coat, free-falling and then turning, landing on his back in a pile of leaves the little robotic gardens have been collecting from the green space and helpfully left laying around.

They might be more surprised to see him get out with a huge grin, and no visible injuries, then pull his hat from his pocket and put it back on.

Sequence 2: A Moonshiner Mission - CLOSED TO ANGEL

He's been toying with the idea for a few days. He's not a brewer, just a drinker, but it can't be too hard. People do it at home in their kitchens out in the countryside. They should be able to do it here, and that way he can actually drink something that isn't either piss or a tequila sunrise.

Not that he can complain about the tequila, it's not that bad and besides, Angel likes them.

The boys are out, and Jacob's flicking through the binder of information she made them absently, without really taking in anything new. There's diagrams and explanations of complicated scientific terms and chemical reactions. Evie would have loved it.

"You know a lot about science, right?" He asks her, testing the water.

Sequence 3: All is Complicated in Love and War: CLOSED TO LEN SNART (and backdated)

Cold doesn't seem the worst for wear, considering he was almost drowned. Jacob has survived a number of things he shouldn't have, he can appreciate that afterwards you normally want a stiff drink. He certainly needs one, after the freezing water and that fight.

He has questions. A lot of questions, and he's not sure Cold is going to give him any answers. He seems the sort to keep a lot of things close to his chest. Maybe a drink, the offer of a friendly chat will relax the tension. Jacob hopes so, he likes the guy even if he is rather cold and detached. Ha, Cold.

He sets a drink down in front of him as he takes a swallow from his own. It's alcoholic, which is good.

"You and that guy have history." He prompts, as he takes his seat.

Sequence 4: Pick Your Own Adventure - OPEN

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Sure, I mean, that's being fancy. Technically speaking, all you need to make the simplest of alcohol is toilet paper, water and a pot."

And there is the tilt, to him now, a familiar tilt to him now at least, of Angel thinking a plan through.

"But whiskey? Whiskey will take time. It wouldn't be good... Not to start with. I think we need mossy earth - uh, peat? I think it's called peat."

Jacob makes a face. Toilet paper? No thanks.

"I doubt that would be any better than the tequila." He says, closing the folder and pushing it to one side.

"We'll start with beer. If we can move up to whiskey, I'd like that. Charles would like that." Maybe they can work out how to make that for his birthday. Although Jacob doesn't know when that is, and he doubts Charles does either.

"Right. Beer, then. So we're going to need a wheat product. I think I saw some, and sugar, and yeast. A warm spot. Fermentation needs heat, not too hot, I don't want to blind you or anything - but consistently warm."

Shoot, there was a lot of things she'd need but most of them could be made with the right tools if they got going... If she asked the robots where they got the tequila from to begin with...

"A barrel, metal, preferably, those little thermometer things... " Up she gets, walking, thinking, already banging around their small kitchen to try and see what they had, half inside her own head.

She knows more than a little bit about this, by the sound of it. He only had the vaguest idea, really, of how it all goes together. But as she gets up and starts moving around their shared living space, he follows.

"How warm? Can we keep it next to those heating ducts?" That would keep them warm and not hot, but possibly might be too unreliable for the process. She did say consistently warm after all, and the power here seems patchy at best. "Or under your bed? Probably gets very steamy..."

She can throw a spoon at him, if she likes. He deserves it.

"Jacob!" Worse than a spoon, she digs at him straight in the side with her bony little elbow. "I should put it under your bed, but it'd overheat." So there, you horn-dog. But she's back on track a second later.

"The heating pumps aren't a bad idea. I just need to check where they're filtering the air through, just to make sure there isn't a leak or something. I don't need to given everyone radiation poisoning in their beer."

"Only because Charles is five times warmer than a normal person." Which is very nice, especially to someone used to cat-napping on London's rooftops. He rubs at his side absently, despite how pointy her elbows are, she hasn't actually hurt him. She's always so good, so careful.

He nods as she muses over the idea, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "Having a radioactive batch could be useful though. To send to people we don't like. I'm joking. Joking. But if the heating pumps wouldn't work, maybe the stables? They're normally warmer than other places, just because of the horses."

"Uh-huh. That's not at all what I meant and you know it."

Angel frowns. "You could actually. I've seen it happened. It's a great way to get rid of your enemies." Which is of course: something she had done for Jack, but that was predictable. "Stables? Won't the horses just drink the beer?"

"Nope. No idea what you mean."

He frowns at her, and then realises that of course she has. "Pandora." That answers every question he could have.

And then he just groans.

"No. No animal actually drinks alcohol. It poisons dogs, I know that for sure. So no. No the horses will not drink the beer."

She just looks so doubtful. "Are you sure? I don't know, animals..."

Her head tilts, because God, skags and raks would drink anything. "All the Reindire got addicted to the Tequila..."

He gives her a look.

"Angel, you could talk me into drinking cyanide habitually if you wanted to. But in the wild animals don't tend to guzzle cocktails or pints of lager. I'm sorry to break this to you."

And then he shakes his head. "I am still really concerned about those Reindire."

"They're fine. I've broken up their diet of booze with 'Christmas' Cake and pine leaves, they seem to really like those." As if that made it better. But she shrugs, all the same. "Well. If you're sure then, probably the stables would be a good place then. But if the horses drink the beer, you're not allowed to blame me okay."

"As if I would." He wouldn't, probably, but they're not at that stage yet. When they get there, maybe something else will have presented itself.

"So, what's the shopping list? Tell me what I need to gather, I'll go do it. And then we can start mixing things."

Procuring it all might take some time, but if he knows what to keep an eye out for, he can start. They're still investigating and exploring this place, and he's sure they'll find something in the ruins.

"Ingredients first - water, that's easy. Sugar. Also easy. We want 1kg of sugar first. The other two are malt and hops. I think it's called hops. Does that sound the same to you?"

Always worth to double-check, given... well, everything.

"The rest is... fiddly. I think I am going to have to make a lot of parts before we get anywhere with it. But if anyone knows where we can get a boiler and cooler, respectively would be really useful."

"Hops. That's the stuff that makes it taste like beer." Jacob nods, pleased. Sugar and water they can get. Malt and hops... well, those they might have to grow. "Do we have seeds for those? Malt and hops? We could grow them."

After all, they're here for the long haul.

"Boiler and cooler. How about I handle getting those? You work on the... produce bits. And anything I find that looks useful, I bring to you, you see if it would be helpful."

"That sounds like a plan. Look for a pot, basically and metal pipe tubing. The rest I can work out."

Maybe, with time. Here was for hoping. Gaige being here seems like a dream right now, but, alas. Time to make do with what they had. They do it, right? Right.

"Maybe some of the robots might have an idea... if we ask nicely..."

Jacob laughs, joy filling the room as he looks at her, his features softening.

"Angel, you could ask those robots anything and they'd bend over backwards for you. They love you almost as much as you love them. Mix them up a batch of oil or whatever it is they drink, and I'm sure they'd find us something."

Jacob Frye Catch-All

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