thisavrou_log | Barter Bazaar!

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Barter Bazaar!

Who: The entire CREW! [ Open ]
When: A day sometime after the holiday bash thrown by the captains
Where: The Medical Tent
What: An opportunity for swapping resources
Warnings: N/A But if a thread takes a turn, let me know and I'll edit

As described in this OOC post, one morning the captains will send out handwaved messages to the crew, old and new alike. New crew members will be offered a pacdisc of their own with some starter goodies that they can choose to keep or work on trading with their fellow crew.

Established crew members will be encouraged (but this is not an order) to arrive at the Medical Tent at a handwaved time with any extra items they have which they might be willing to trade out.

Also as mentioned on Discord, players/characters can have scavenged some items from the settlements and caves.

Come and trade! Or just come and watch/take the opportunity to meet some new faces. There will be a table set up with freshly prepared purple deer meat and clean (aka not-purple) water available. Sorry, alcohol is BYOB, but certainly welcome!

If you have any questions, please direct them to the OOC post. Otherwise, enjoy!

Also, just for some IC setting flavor:

[ As it had been for a couple of days now, the medical tent stood set up and ready to receive anyone who decided to take the captains up on their offer. Some of the pacdiscs were inside, ready to hand out to the new arrivals or those individuals could have picked them up directly from the captains themselves.

Either way, the cots of the med tent had been pushed back to the edges, gotten out of the way but also providing places to sit. There were also some crates and other sturdy looking cabinets for sitting on as well, why the hell not. Maybe be a little careful as some of those cabinets might be on casters. Please no rolling around the medical tent! But if you do sit on one of those cabinets and end up 'bucked off' people are probably going to point and snicker.

On one side of the tent a table had been set up with freshly bbqed purple deer meat and some sides. The sides were obviously canned goods but they were there for a change of pace. Fresh water, untainted by purple-ness, was also set up in large containers at the end of the table. There was plenty to have and also plenty to be bottled up in individual containers and packed away.

There were also glasses and cups sitting ready for water ... or you know ... if anyone had brought the hard stuff! ]

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I did it fine before!

[Now it's just a challenge. Frisk gets up and tries one more time, and finally they've achieved something resembling stability. The first burst sends them straight up about three feet in the air, and between a very delicate handling of the throttle and a lot of windmilling arms, they manage to actually stay there for a few moments.]

S-see! I got it!

[Their smile is undeniably satisfied, now, as the challenge succeeds in eliciting a wobbling attempt to no longer crash into every object in the vicinity.

Further applause, then, to signify the fact that this does, indeed, count as an achievement. Achievement unlocked!]

For how long will you get it?

[Frisk blows a loud, wet raspberry rather than reply, and starts experimenting a little. Wobbling forward with a careful lean, then back (and back and back and back, but they stop themself before hitting anything). Those brief trials all those months ago are starting to come back, and Frisk laughs as they manage to start circling around Chara in a wide loop.]

I bet I can carry you! D'you wanna try? I'll be really careful, promise!

You are not carrying me.

[The words are sedate and their chin is raised in a parody of someone with high standards, veiling their knee-jerk response to that offer in something crisp and falsely dramatic.

Better to play along than to ruin it.]

Awww! C'mon, I know I can do it!

[In comparison to Chara's lofty attitude Frisk's mighty pout seems even more childish than it really is, but they don't much care. A few more stuttering bursts out of the boots, and Frisk turns them off and lands with a heavy thud and small stumble.]

It'll be fun! I won't let you get hurt this time.

If you think getting hurt is my concern, you are sorely mistaken.

[Here we are, of course. Ruining that lovely, nice thing that Frisk is enjoying, because they are simply like this. Unable to put their own comfort aside so that Frisk can have their fun. They are not about to be hoisted on anyone's shoulders or carried like a sack of potatoes, or held in any way, because the world is gentle and kind and careful with children like them.

Humans truly are selfish creatures.]

[Frisk holds that stubborn pout for a moment longer before they sigh and relent, crossing their arms. They want to push and insist, but that's exactly why they won't.]

Okay. ...how high d'you think I can get?

[Frisk.]

[How high. That earns them a wicked smile, the sort befitting the title of hellion that Mettaton so wisely bestowed upon them.]

Try and break the atmosphere, if you can.

[Only don't actually. Leave that to Chara. They can die screaming in the vacuum of space as their body undergoes the painful processes of explosive decompression! They can add that to their list of cruel and interesting deaths!

It'll be plenty Fun.]

I'm not goin' that high!

[They laugh, because it's a joke, of course. They never died once, so why would they start now, right?]

[Frisk plants their feet squarely apart, knees bent and braced for the shock, the tip of their tongue just peeking out as they stare up in concentration--]

[PCHOOOOO!!]

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...

[...man, they're really going aren't--ohp, there's the tumbling. At least it looks like they'll crash nearby.]

[Not even died once, of course. We have to present our pain in an agreeable fashion for everyone, do we not? And yet, as always, Frisk has their way of tempting fate, and tempt it they do.

Their smile freezes on their features for only a moment as they scramble, mentally, to calculate what sort of impact that collision may have on a measly 20 HP.

Perhaps more than is acceptable.

They anticipate the arc of their trajectory when they land, though they seem to be - externally, breathing, at least.]

Stabilizers, [they hiss between clenched teeth, smiling hard enough for their cheeks to ache with the stress of it.] I would invest.

[It certainly could have ended far worse than it does. Frisk regains enough stability toward the end to slow their descent, but not by enough to keep them from slamming into the ground with enough force to...possibly crack something? There's definitely a lot of pain, and their head is aching from the impact. Not so much they don't hear Chara's sharply pointed 'suggestion', though.]

...m-maybe I do need 'em...

[It takes a moment for Frisk to start pushing themself back up, and they lift their head to look--not quite at Chara, but at least in their direction. Their vision is swimming a bit.]

Was fun, though.

[Perhaps it was "fun," but the fun is most certainly over by now. They hardly look a fit state to be standing, let alone jettisoning across space simply because the idea appeals to them.]

You're hurt.

[An absurdly stupid statement, inane in its obviousness, and yet - they excel, do they not, at stating the obvious!]

How bad is it.

[It's not a question so much as it is a command.]

[Frisk groans and shakes their head, managing a sitting position and rubbing at their head, eyes squeezed shut.]

U-um...ten? No, 'm at eight. 'Ll be okay, 'm just kinda dizzy.

[An understatement, punctuated by a trickle of blood oozing out from under Frisk's hairline. They've scrapes all over their arms and face, and a bruise now starting to form on their forehead.]

[Were they more uncouth, they might spit out a rather crass word at that obvious bullhonkey.]

You're not okay. Tell me you have first aid in your PacDisc. Monster food. Something.

[If they came wholly unprepared -

They would. Would they not? Blindly falling upon every sword placed in front of them, trusting the world to either remove it or for it to be a sword worth falling upon. Even when there is little point in falling upon swords at all.]

[Frisk scowls and cracks open one eye, their mouth setting a stubborn line.]

I am fine! You fell just as hard, too, 'n you can still walk!

[Nevermind that Chara has twice as much and more HP than Frisk, and any armor at all to blunt the impact. They huff and dig into their pocket pulling the Pacdisk out to start fiddling with it.]

'Ve got some chisps, still. That's enough.

I have HP to spare, Frisk.

[Frisk can do basic math, can they not? Concern metabolizes into what everything eventually metabolizes into, churned out into a sickening sludge of compounded irritation, the ever-present specter of anger burning hot and guttering like a candle's stilling flame.

But.

They have Chisps.

It will have to suffice.

Their silence lapses into a soft huff, a derisive expulsion of air, the cracked veneer sealing itself together as though the seams never split at all.]

I honestly cannot say how you've managed to survive without me.

[Frisk grumbles something under their breath, but the argument isn't worth pursuing. It will just make Chara upset, and they don't want that. This was supposed to be something nice.]

[They're just screwing everything up, aren't they?]

[Opening the bag with a quick tug, Frisk starts munching and waits for the magic to take effect. They glance up at Chara, then down, then back again.]

...I dunno. Some people tried t' look out for me.

[Not that Frisk had done much to allow them to. Even Toriel had gotten the cold shoulder after a while.]

[No longer in any danger of their SOUL falling to pieces, at least. That is all a demon can ask for, all a humble servant has any right to ask for. They wait, fingernails sinking into the flesh of their palms as they hold themself rigid, refusing to pace.

They did this. Did all of this. Turned into a taunt, into a challenge, into a game, knowing full well Frisk would accept it as such and race fists-first into the obstacle presented, their own safety be damned.

Ruined it, as per usual.]

Who?

[An innocent if searching question. Frisk befriends easily - it is in their nature. But they also consider most everyone to be friends, of a sort, regardless of the other party's efforts to be considered as such, or lack thereof.]

Mo--...Toriel did, an' Asriel. So did Angela, an' Ginko. 'N Peter's tried, an' Shepard an' Reinhardt...Mettaton said he forgave me, too.

[A few more chips are crunched down, and Frisk looks up to Chara, brows creased faintly.]

I never...really let them, though.

[Mettaton forgave them, did he? How magnanimous of him! How endlessly kind and graceful he was, to prostrate himself to such levels! And -

Toriel. Of course. She mothers. It's what she does. And if she was not enough for them to feel safe, because she feels - she has that trait to her, does she not. She has that safety and warmth, up until the moment she turns and hurls handfuls of fire at a child for the crime of disobedience.

The very same as every other adult in their lives, in the end.]

And why is that?

[As if they do not already know, full well.]

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Barter Bazaar!

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