DID YOU KNOW THAT: baby hedgehogs are called hoglets? WELL NOW YOU KNOW

[myironeyes]

[Spam, all public areas, including some warden-only areas. He is particularly meticulous in searching the greenhouse and the dining hall. He also checks zero.]

[Once again, Marsh has been turned into a tiny, scowly, ragged child with the visible skeletal geometry of someone not too far away from starvation and ashes in his hair, although his face is mostly clean. He keeps moving, keeps his head down, keeps his hands in his pockets. He attempts not to draw attention, and if he weren't so utterly out of place, he'd be fairly good at it. And he is searching for something - someone - very, very determinedly. He is so suspicious of all of you.]



[Public, video]

Where is my brother.

[Marsh has shadows under his eyes and he looks like a good wind might push him over.]

He's grown up now for no reason but he probably doesn't act like it and he has stupid yellow hair and he smiles too much and I can't find him anywhere. He was here.

[Aster flutters onto his shoulder and croons softly. Marsh makes a gurgled noise of despairing frustration in his throat and flaps his hands with her until she flies a little ways off.]

And this bird won't leave me alone!




[Spam for Steph (and possibly Esther?) in the Kitchen for dinner shift]

[At some point, Nathan let slip that Marsh not only had a key to the kitchens, but was in fact in charge of feeding the entire ship dinner. After a very small, totally manageable, super mature freakout under Nathan's desk, he has decided that this is going to be amazing and he is absolutely going to take care of everyone. He has dragged a chair into the kitchen and is crawling on the counters to reach flour, slicing vegetables with a dubious little off-white shank that looks like it might be made of bone, and humming softly to himself with a little smile.]



[Private to everyone on the kitchen staff, including on-call people, on the second day.]

Do you know how to make little cakes?



[Open spam, later]

[Marsh has, maybe, possibly, totally for a good cause, stolen some honey from the bees in the greenhouse. He may have several stings on his hands and face and a large, sticky section of honeycomb to show for this adventure.]



[OOC: replies will come from whippersnapped.]

Comments

[routemistress]

...Marsh?

[It's a masked lady in ridiculous skintight glittery blue.]

Your brother went 'ome. 'E's fine, I promise, darling. Time's got a little jumbled up this week, is all.

Don't 'urt the little bird. She's just worried about you.

[whippersnapped]

[The lady is not especially weirder than Ivy, whom - to Marsh's mind - he saw yesterday. Her news, however, goes somewhat awry. His agitation only increases.]

He is not fine, he's crazy! He fought the Lord Ruler and he died! That's what's at home. Bring him back!

[routemistress]

Sweetheart, are we talking about the same Kelsier? I'm good but I can't fetch and carry that one against 'is will.

I know 'e did. That were a long time ago now. 'E did say 'e'd be back.

[whippersnapped]

You've got shiny things. Just stand around, he'll follow you.

[Half cynical, half maybe edging toward hysterical.]

[fireincarnate]

[She doesn't recognise it, at first; all she feels is a child's anxiety, tense and wary. She's used to the ragged texture of Marsh's mind, raw and gleaming.

But there was always more to him than that.

She knows it's him, when she turns the corner, and her heart almost skips a beat. He's so little. Thin and dirty and lonely.]

Looking for something? [Her voice is soft, and her smile is warm.] Maybe I can help.

[whippersnapped]

[Unfortunately, Marsh's suspicion - already at a fairly steady baseline - spikes. Adults don't smile very much in his experience, and when they do, it usually doesn't mean anything good. It doesn't help that - healthy and clean, in colorful clothes - he thinks of her unconsciously as a noble. Intellectually, he knows things are a little different here, but that doesn't do much against years of instincts.]

Just looking around. I don't wanna get lost or anything.

[fireincarnate]

[She feels it with aching ease, and she's careful not to step too close, move to sharply. She just nods, slight and slow.]

It's a pretty big ship. How long have you been here?

[whippersnapped]

Few days. Most of the other kids are gone, though.

[He's not sure whether to be scared or not.]

[with_my_teacup]

Our usual baker's kinda... Under the weather. But I can help. Cupcakes? [He doesn't know Marsh. He knows the bird.]

[whippersnapped]

Just little sweet ones, it doesn't matter what kind. With icing or marzipan.

[with_my_teacup]

We can make that happen. My name's Riddick-- I used to be in charge of the breakfast shift. While the flood's going on, I'm probably going to be filling in for whoever the kitchen warden is now.

[whippersnapped]

I'm in charge of dinner!

[This sounds very nearly excited. Certainly proud, although he tries to bite it back, glancing down in the moments after, making himself smaller, well-behaved.]

And I can make breads and vegetables and things. But I thought. Cakes would be nice too. For after.

[Only for people who eat their vegetables, tho. o_o ]

spaaaaaaaaam;

[ichoosefight]

[ It took some doing, but Steph's figured out what timeline they're in and realized that she's supposed to be helping with dinner. It's weird, since wardens aren't generally allowed to work as anything but supervisors, but it's also like slipping into an old skin. A small, uncomfortable skin.

She really feels like she's more in charge than Marsh is. ]

Marsh? Sweetie? Why don't you let me get the flour for you? That way you don't get your shoes on the counter?

[whippersnapped]

...I can get it!

[Not angry, and not as suspicious of her as he might have been - Nathan did say he had helpers - just determined, in the way of kids with too much responsibility.]

[ichoosefight]

Yeah, but you're getting floor gunk on the counter we cook on.

[ Please get down Marsh ]

[whippersnapped]

But the floors are super clean here! I haven't seen ashes anywhere.

[He's confused by this.]

[spam]

[worksbetterinthepast]

[As soon as he realizes Marsh is on board, even if a child, he looks for him. Mike comes too. He relies on Mike to help find him who gets all happy jumpy barking when they find him.]

Hey? Marsh?

[spam]

[whippersnapped]

Get back.

[This is aimed, not at Ryan, but at Mike. So is a little white shank, if the dog tries to jump on him again as he backs against the wall to put distance between them, obviously scared. Stop your ex-warden from stabbing your dog, Ryan.]

[spam]

[worthyofalittlework]

[Royce started following the little child not long after he first saw him. He may or may not have conveniently left discarded looking food in the boy's path. Certainly not anything that would be an obvious hand out, he wouldn't do that.]

[It's after he sees him get into the honey, does he approach and even speak.]

Your stomach is going to hurt. You won't want stomach pains slowing you down.

[spam]

[whippersnapped]

[For such a threadbare kid, he has a lot of pockets. Quite a few of Royce's discards are on him now. He licks honey off his thumb but gives the grown up a contrite expression.]

I won't eat it fast.

[He's not in trouble. He doesn't see the green lady, but he said kids were welcome to do what they wanted in the garden as long as they didn't hurt each other or the plants. Bees aren't plants, and anyway, they hurt him. He won't argue about it unless he has to, though.]

[spam]

[worthyofalittlework]

Good.

[He still has his hood up so it covers most of his face. He crouches a reasonable distance away, appearing more concerned with the plant life.]

How long have you been on your own?

[spam]

[whippersnapped]

I'm not on my own.

[Not a challenge. Just information and innocent eyes. Even if his brother is technically gone, and technically probably even more trouble as a grown-up. He's not on his own. And if the stranger reads more protection into that statement than he actually implies, that's not his fault.]

[Spam]

[logistical]

[Spock isn't hiding. He's temporarily taking leave in the CES, waiting for it to turn to the vast deserts of his home, but it insists on constantly giving him rainforests. The climate isn't unbearable per se, but in light of the changes affecting every other passenger, his cabin affords less peace than it would.]

[It is here that he encounters Marsh, outside the door, skulking around, noting how softly he walks. Was he waiting for Spock to leave?]

The door is here.

[Spam]

[whippersnapped]

Where's it go?

[Spam]

[logistical]

To the CES.

[He opens the door to let Marsh see inside.]