Carlisle Longinmouth ❧ ɹᴉǝH ʇɥƃᴉlq ǝɥʇ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
abheirrant) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
redshiftlogs2020-07-06 11:23 pm
abheirrant) wrote in redshiftlogs2020-07-06 11:23 pm
Entry tags:
Farm Livin' [open]
Who: Carlisle Longinmouth, farm animals, and anyone else who might wander into the area
What: With Anchor's #1 Ranch Hand gone, someone had to take care of the animals.
When: Late June/throughout July
Where: Agricultural Level, mostly near the barns/livestock and the adjacent forested area
Warnings: Will update as necessary!
As someone who had everything he ever knew either ruined, upended, or permanently changed for the worse within the near-year he's been aware of himself, Carlisle is glad to have some semblance of a routine back. True, it came at an awful cost, but in an effort to maintain his nerves — and therefore keep his more volatile, necrotic energies in check — he will take what victories he can get, however small they may be.
It started when he first moved into the barn. He's been there for well over a month now, and it took most of that time for the animals to adjust to his presence; with his head-to-toe outfit and fastidious nature, Carlisle is a far cry from their former farmhand, but he simply couldn't let Kieran's animals be without a caretaker. Given the man disappeared so soon after he'd been healed — and after Carlisle had begun to form the barest notion that they could be friends — the former clergyman is quick to blame himself for Kieran's vanishing. What's one more addition to his long list of sins? He has so much to atone for already, and a seemingly endless existence to do it. Who better to be responsible for Anchor's loss but him?
It's self-fulfilling prophecy, of course, but Carlisle is hesitant to label it as such. He felt a genuine bond with Reynir, who then disappeared. The same goes for Kieran, and now he's gone. Carlisle has yet to be proven wrong, shown that the misfortune he's said to breed with his very presence isn't a guarantee, but with only his own experiences to go on, he cannot say he believes otherwise. The only reason he remains in the colony at all is because of the insistence of a few individuals — that, and his own cowardice toward what lies in the wasteland outside of Anchor. The vast, open expanse is enough to have him reeling.
As it is, he told those same few individuals that he was moving from the housing quarters to the barn, slowly converting one of the sheds into a private home as the days went by. He claimed it was for the sake of the animals, and that it'd be a good exercise for him. By surrounding himself with living creatures who depended on him, he'd have to not only have to continue to live withing Anchor, but he would have to master his often destructive energies, keeping them in line lest he wanted their deaths on his hands. It was grim motivation, but motivation none the less. There was a heavier truth lying just beneath that reasoning: he felt that if any animals disappeared, no one would notice, whereas being in proximity of people put them at risk — those he would consider his friends included.
And so, he moved away from them, keeping his distance much as he did in life. It didn't do him any good then, either.
Well, that's not to say that living at the barn hasn't done him some good. Carlisle has indeed gotten a better hold on the necrotic magic that animates him, been able to practice wielding them in the safety of his solitude. He no longer rots everything he touches, can walk across the grasses of the fields without leaving a trail of dying, withered stalks behind him. Animals do not shift uncomfortably at his touch, and there some satisfaction in that. Each day, he feeds them, brushes them, goes about his prayer, watches over those who need him, works a little more on making the barn habitable. It's a routine, and one that often has him interacting less and less with people.
But just because he doesn't seek them out doesn't mean he's completely away from them. He actually has help on the farm some days: there's Pratt, who has shown him how to more or less manage the animals, and Ami, who comes by the brush the horses on a regular basis. Try as he might to fully isolate himself, Carlisle finds that he can't... and deep down, he isn't sure he wants to, no matter how he may seclude himself, both unconsciously or otherwise. Despite everything that's happened in his vicinity, everything he's done as the Blight Heir, Carlisle doesn't want to be alone. He's constantly trying to make amends for an endless guilt that festers in his gut. At least the animals don't judge him as harshly as he judges himself.
When dropping by the agricultural area, one might see Carlisle tending to the start of his garden: he's built up a bed of soil and surrounded it with rocks, hoping to deter the few chickens he has from plucking the new sprouts as they emerge. Acting as an additional deterrent is a tiny dragon, the blue-and-white wyrmling often nestled atop a pole in the center of the bed. Though barely bigger than a chicken himself, he does his best to act as a guard dog, keeping watch over the budding plants and hissing at anyone who would approach, letting loose a breath of chilling air.
When not there, Carlisle can be found over by the field as he tends to the cattle, letting them graze on the grasses to their hearts' content while he prepares their hay or (badly) fixes the fence. Sitting among the cattle is their protector: a hulking beast of an undead abomination. Its malformed body is no less than eight feet tall when sitting, closer to nine or ten when standing, making it out like a sore thumb among the cows and bulls; its rib cage has far too many ribs, and houses a vibrant, blue light that blazes like fire within its cavernous torso. Its frame is built of materials of all sorts, mismatched fragments of both human and animal bone, as well as a twisted branch or two making up its many limbs. The skull of a long-dead cow acts as its head, its eyes shining with the same blue light that burns in its chest. Most notable is a collar that hangs from the human-spine-turned-neck, a shiny bell dangling there for all to see.
And on rare occasion, Carlisle is outside the barn, etching into its walls an elaborate glyph. He accomplishes this with what appears to be a screw with a crude handle added to it. While it may not be a precision tool, it gets the job done, so long as he can work uninterrupted. No matter where one sees him, it's apparent he's attempting to adjust to his new life: in addition to his usual garb, Carlisle now tends to wear a pair of work gloves right on top of his normal ones, as well as a leather apron. With only one proper outfit that masks his emaciated frame, he's not eager to get stains on it.
Then again, he's not always eager for company, either. There are just some things he cannot avoid.
[ooc: alternatively, if none of these prompts are up your alley, hit me up on Discord or Plurk, and we can plot!]
What: With Anchor's #1 Ranch Hand gone, someone had to take care of the animals.
When: Late June/throughout July
Where: Agricultural Level, mostly near the barns/livestock and the adjacent forested area
Warnings: Will update as necessary!
As someone who had everything he ever knew either ruined, upended, or permanently changed for the worse within the near-year he's been aware of himself, Carlisle is glad to have some semblance of a routine back. True, it came at an awful cost, but in an effort to maintain his nerves — and therefore keep his more volatile, necrotic energies in check — he will take what victories he can get, however small they may be.
It started when he first moved into the barn. He's been there for well over a month now, and it took most of that time for the animals to adjust to his presence; with his head-to-toe outfit and fastidious nature, Carlisle is a far cry from their former farmhand, but he simply couldn't let Kieran's animals be without a caretaker. Given the man disappeared so soon after he'd been healed — and after Carlisle had begun to form the barest notion that they could be friends — the former clergyman is quick to blame himself for Kieran's vanishing. What's one more addition to his long list of sins? He has so much to atone for already, and a seemingly endless existence to do it. Who better to be responsible for Anchor's loss but him?
It's self-fulfilling prophecy, of course, but Carlisle is hesitant to label it as such. He felt a genuine bond with Reynir, who then disappeared. The same goes for Kieran, and now he's gone. Carlisle has yet to be proven wrong, shown that the misfortune he's said to breed with his very presence isn't a guarantee, but with only his own experiences to go on, he cannot say he believes otherwise. The only reason he remains in the colony at all is because of the insistence of a few individuals — that, and his own cowardice toward what lies in the wasteland outside of Anchor. The vast, open expanse is enough to have him reeling.
As it is, he told those same few individuals that he was moving from the housing quarters to the barn, slowly converting one of the sheds into a private home as the days went by. He claimed it was for the sake of the animals, and that it'd be a good exercise for him. By surrounding himself with living creatures who depended on him, he'd have to not only have to continue to live withing Anchor, but he would have to master his often destructive energies, keeping them in line lest he wanted their deaths on his hands. It was grim motivation, but motivation none the less. There was a heavier truth lying just beneath that reasoning: he felt that if any animals disappeared, no one would notice, whereas being in proximity of people put them at risk — those he would consider his friends included.
And so, he moved away from them, keeping his distance much as he did in life. It didn't do him any good then, either.
Well, that's not to say that living at the barn hasn't done him some good. Carlisle has indeed gotten a better hold on the necrotic magic that animates him, been able to practice wielding them in the safety of his solitude. He no longer rots everything he touches, can walk across the grasses of the fields without leaving a trail of dying, withered stalks behind him. Animals do not shift uncomfortably at his touch, and there some satisfaction in that. Each day, he feeds them, brushes them, goes about his prayer, watches over those who need him, works a little more on making the barn habitable. It's a routine, and one that often has him interacting less and less with people.
But just because he doesn't seek them out doesn't mean he's completely away from them. He actually has help on the farm some days: there's Pratt, who has shown him how to more or less manage the animals, and Ami, who comes by the brush the horses on a regular basis. Try as he might to fully isolate himself, Carlisle finds that he can't... and deep down, he isn't sure he wants to, no matter how he may seclude himself, both unconsciously or otherwise. Despite everything that's happened in his vicinity, everything he's done as the Blight Heir, Carlisle doesn't want to be alone. He's constantly trying to make amends for an endless guilt that festers in his gut. At least the animals don't judge him as harshly as he judges himself.
When dropping by the agricultural area, one might see Carlisle tending to the start of his garden: he's built up a bed of soil and surrounded it with rocks, hoping to deter the few chickens he has from plucking the new sprouts as they emerge. Acting as an additional deterrent is a tiny dragon, the blue-and-white wyrmling often nestled atop a pole in the center of the bed. Though barely bigger than a chicken himself, he does his best to act as a guard dog, keeping watch over the budding plants and hissing at anyone who would approach, letting loose a breath of chilling air.
When not there, Carlisle can be found over by the field as he tends to the cattle, letting them graze on the grasses to their hearts' content while he prepares their hay or (badly) fixes the fence. Sitting among the cattle is their protector: a hulking beast of an undead abomination. Its malformed body is no less than eight feet tall when sitting, closer to nine or ten when standing, making it out like a sore thumb among the cows and bulls; its rib cage has far too many ribs, and houses a vibrant, blue light that blazes like fire within its cavernous torso. Its frame is built of materials of all sorts, mismatched fragments of both human and animal bone, as well as a twisted branch or two making up its many limbs. The skull of a long-dead cow acts as its head, its eyes shining with the same blue light that burns in its chest. Most notable is a collar that hangs from the human-spine-turned-neck, a shiny bell dangling there for all to see.
And on rare occasion, Carlisle is outside the barn, etching into its walls an elaborate glyph. He accomplishes this with what appears to be a screw with a crude handle added to it. While it may not be a precision tool, it gets the job done, so long as he can work uninterrupted. No matter where one sees him, it's apparent he's attempting to adjust to his new life: in addition to his usual garb, Carlisle now tends to wear a pair of work gloves right on top of his normal ones, as well as a leather apron. With only one proper outfit that masks his emaciated frame, he's not eager to get stains on it.
Then again, he's not always eager for company, either. There are just some things he cannot avoid.
[ooc: alternatively, if none of these prompts are up your alley, hit me up on Discord or Plurk, and we can plot!]
no subject
Most people seem to only have the bonds they have made here, maybe some have others from home he just has not met them yet. He is sure he will. Having decided to see what use he can be farming and help out, Yamamoto has taken to finding his way around the Agricultural level.
Today has the teenager dressed in his casual clothes, his box companions safely inside, he saw that protector for the cattle, a sparrow and a dog may not be the best to let sniff around till he gets the lay of the land. Yamamoto takes a trip around the field, not seeing anyone but the cattle.
When he is done there his feet pick a random route and off he goes again, when he comes into sight of someone working in a garden his face lights up before the person can even see him.
"Yo!" The young man calls out the greeting, trotting over to Carlisle with a big smile, immune to any I do not want company vibes the guy may be giving off. This is someone new to him and Yamamoto is excited.
"You planting vegetables?"
no subject
"Chill-of-the-mountain currant," he answers dryly. "A fruit. Do you need something, lad?"
no subject
He crouches down, wanting a closer look but he does not get right next to Carlisle, at least he left personal space. When Carlisle asks if he wants something the young man's head pops up, he flashes that smile again.
"Huh? Nope, I was exploring and saw you here. I'm trying to help with farming so." He makes a gesture toward Carlisle and his planting, good to learn anything he can when he can.
"What's a Chill-of-the-mountain currant?"
no subject
"Chill-of-the-mountain currant is a bush," he explains. "The berries can be crushed and dried, and are often used as a spice for when crossing the mountains. Not that there are any of those here, but I suppose it has its culinary uses as well."
no subject
"Neat, does it take special work to grow? You could make cakes with the berries on top, huh?" He drops into a cross-legged position on the ground, the strap from his weapon falling to the ground so the blade can rest cross his legs, the strap comfortably around his wrist. His observant eyes are studying the soil around where Carlisle is planting, strange as it seems, this young man is seriously interested in the process.
no subject
"I would not recommend these particular berries for a pastry of any sort," he remarks, "as they are quite hot. Furthermore, these are not to be a part of the colony's resources. They are plants from my home. If you are looking to help with the harvest of the crops they use for the kitchens, you ought look elsewhere, Mister...?"
He tilts his head, leaving open an invitation for his guest to introduce himself.
no subject
"Oh, like Yatsufusa. Huh?" He was just asking about uses, not assuming they would be for the colony so that part throws him off, Yamamoto shakes it off though, shrugging up a shoulder. "You never know where you might learn something interesting and you seem to know a lot" Then he smiles "No Mister, you can call me Yamamoto. You?"
no subject
"Well, while I know much about these particular plants, I will say again that you have interest in farming, as you said, you might try elsewhere. As in 'somewhere other than here.'"
no subject
"Huh? But you're planting and it may be different than the farming I'll be doing I could still learn something, maybe something that I can take back to Julie to help" See, he has plans and Carlisle is helping, he needs knowledge and distractions but he will only be talking to Gokudera about why he needs distractions. Some times the brightest smiles hide the biggest darkness.
no subject
"These plants are fairly specialized," he explains. "They are largely for alchemical purposes."
no subject
"Oh, so like medicinal purposes right?" That's actually pretty cool, then again he could be a misunderstanding, he is not entirely sure what alchemical purposes are.
no subject
"While there is some overlap between traditional medicine and alchemy, they are two different fields of study. Not all reagents for alchemy could or should be used for alchemy, and the opposite is equally true. Should you be injured, you are better off taking yourself to the Medbay or finding a proper healer than using any of these plants."
no subject
"I don't get it, but that means this stuff is not good for humans but has other uses, right?" That is the basics of what he got, that while it is being planted and grown because it has a purpose. It is not a purpose that is good for humans.