myironeyes | A Crab Dressed like a Dementor, Pack Lunches, and Pie

[Private to Ned.]

I need help.

[Spam for Kelsier]

[He gave Kelsier time to hide, because - well, he's not a complete hypocrite. But he's knocking on Kel's door now, and he's just as willing to pick the lock as he was on the other barge.]

[Private to Alpha]

I can't see anything on the communicator screens, so I don't know what your room looks like. But if you have not yet acquired a replacement for your recessed pit, I could make a fabric hammock.

They're...easier to move around than solid furniture, if you change your mind about what you want where.

[Spam for Nathan, backdated to several days after the mirror even but before White Flag - 5th or 6th?]

[He knocks only once. He has cherry-raspberry pie.]

[Open Spam all over the barge, from a few days after the mirror event through White Flag, particularly relevant to Jean, Cassel, Alex, Zane, and Ryan, because you guys now have a pointy extra shadow.]

[Several months of memories of being used as a brutal nightmare of a weapon have made Marsh even more skittish, if possible, than he was when he first board the barge. He skulks and lurks and generally keeps to the corners of the regrettably well-lit corridors. He ducks into empty cabins when people pass in the halls, and he collects food at odd times. It is, however, less absent than his usual hermitage, because he's actively stalking a few people at a distance whenever they emerge from hiding.]

[OOC: feel free to run into him while he's watching out for someone else, or if you want to say your character was chopped to pieces once or a dozen times by mind controlled!Marsh in the mirror event, he might feel obligated to quasi-discretely check on them too. Just let me know!]

[Open Spam, CES]

[It's pitch dark, except for the small area illuminated by the light spilling in through the open door; Marsh doesn't need light. The CES gave him the rebellion's cave systems today, and although there are torches stashed here in there in the tunnels, Marsh doesn't need them. The rock is solid, cool but not cold, and he's tucked just around a bend, holding still. Letting himself be still. He isn't sure himself if it's comforting or just stalling, but at least it is familiar.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The Piemaker sets his hands out in front of him, observing them. It's been weeks - a month and several weeks - since he last touched fruit or flour. But it still sticks to him, no matter how many times he washes his hands. He'll always smell like pie, and his hands will always be big and gentle and worn. There's no changing who he is, not at the heart of himself.]

When Chuck and I decided together that I would be the one to come here, we agreed that no matter what, I would put my inmate before myself in all things. It's getting harder and harder to do.

Do you think I'm close to breaking?

I don't know. The mind is strange. But you sound like a man struggling terribly.

[He puts aside the charcoal and picks up a small pair of scissors, snipping neatly. Very quietly,]

I told you, when we met, that sometimes we didn't have enough food as children. If there was only enough for one, usually I'd give it to Kel. I tried to - protect him from the worst of it, when I could. Protect him from knowing how desperate we were, sometimes.

But there were days, if I didn't eat, then I wouldn't have the strength to work. And the next day there would be no food for anyone. I hated myself so much, for that. For not being better, somehow. But he turned out alright in the end.

Putting someone else first doesn't mean putting yourself aside. Not entirely. It can't.

Edited 2013-11-21 15:47 (UTC)

[Distantly, the Piemaker watches the work being done. He works too often with his hands to keep them still for very long, but seeing another perform skilled labor seems to help settle him]

So soon I won't be able to help both of us if this continues.

It's not...give everything or nothing. It's just that you need a little bit for yourself, so you can be who they need. Everyone does.

...Sorry. It still sounds selfish.

I know. It's very inconvenient.

I wish I were stronger. If I were stronger I wouldn't need to be selfish in order to be a good warden.

Maybe.

[It's dismissive, but not unsympathetic - quite the opposite. They are all as strong as they are, and Marsh has never found it sustaining to dwell on it.]

But we have enough to worry about, without maybes.

I know.

I just...have to learn to be better. That's all.

You should learn to stitch.

[Not a non sequitur.]

I can weave pie crusts. That's...sort of the same thing.

Isn't it?

The discipline and dexterity will serve you well.

You said when we met that you wished you were...crafty like that. So.

[He finds a spool of thread and unwinds a length, bites it neatly off, then offers it and a small needle, plucked glinting from among the others, one of only two metal needles, as Marsh normally uses animal bone.]

...Now? Right now?

I didn't bring anything with me.

Now.

You can't just. Choose to be a different person. But you can learn something new. That's how people grow.

I have all the supplies you need.

[Needle, thread. He continues holding them out pointedly.]

[Hesitantly, the Piemaker reaches forward and takes the needle and thread in hand]

I don't think I'm cut out for this sort of delicate work.

Not yet.

[Marsh shows him how to hold it, demonstrating without touching Ned's hand, then hands him a sampler-circle with a piece of pink scrap cloth on it, the edges hanging past the wicker rim scalloped away where Marsh cut out the curlicue shapes of petals for appliqué.]

Knot the thread at the end, then just push it through. You start on the back, the side that won't be seen.

[Taking the rim in hand, the Piemaker begins to awkwardly sew through the sampler, biting his lip in concentration]

Won't the knot tear through?

Just pull gently, and stop when it tugs. If the thread goes through anyway, do another knot to make it a little bigger.

Right.

[The Piemaker does as asked. His big, gentle hands are a little shaky but eventually manage to pull through the cloth without tearing]

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A Crab Dressed like a Dementor, Pack Lunches, and Pie

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