Cold, the air and water flowing
WHO: Kahl-175 and you!
WHEN: Throughout December, mostly early in the month.
WHERE: The Inn and its surroundings.
WHAT: Kahl goes fishing, improvises some tableware, enjoys the snow, does some Cyborg Thingsā¢, and helps get people inside before curfew.
WARNINGS: None so far!
A. Fishing [[A relaxing pastime. Or is it?]]
Kahl's a little confused by the stick with a string on it, but he gets the idea. You put little bits of food on the hook, and that stabs the fish instead of Kahl stabbing them with a spear, right? It makes sense, but it's new to him.
So is fishing with ice. When he got deployed somewhere cold, it was cold. No liquid water anywhere. The idea of standing on a lake is weird, but it seems to be working so far.
Maybe. He hasn't seen any fish yet.
[[Either join Kahl in peaceful fishing adventures, or perhaps the ice starts making unpleasant noises under his weight. It might be about to give way...]]
B. Soup [[A primer on table manners in the Grineer Army.]]
Kahl caught fish! He'd been tempted to gut them and cook them out by the lake, but instead he brought them back to the kitchen. That would help pay for staying here.
And give him a chance to be proud of the fish.
It's not long before he's distracted by what's going on in the rest of the kitchen, though. "That smell good," he points to a large pot over a low fire. "Can eat?"
He gets the go-ahead. "Kahl thank," he unbuckles his helmet, running a hand over his bald head. That was a mistake. His prosthetics are cold.
All the more reason to have soup. It'll warm up the helmet before he puts it back on.
He ladles some soup into the helmet, grabbing a spoon on his way out of the kitchen and finding a seat somewhere near a fire to warm up.
He smiles to whoever else is nearby, gesturing with his makeshift bowl. "Good food here. You have enough?"
C. Snow [[See, snow!]]
The last time Kahl saw snow was in the army. But he hadn't really looked at it. You looked for stuff hiding in the snow. You looked for tracks that told you someone had walked through it. The snow itself was just there.
But now Kahl's thinking more about snow. How white it is until stuff gets in it, the crunching noises it makes in some places, and the way his feet sink into it when he walks.
Right now, he's just sitting outside the inn, looking at the snow. Picking up handfuls of it, trying to bring it up to his eye without breathing on it, so he can get a better look at what snow really is, before it turns into water.
There's a lot of stuff he missed in the army.
D. Maintenance [[Character deconstruction.]]
Snow is good. Ice, Kahl's less convinced about. And sand is bad. Sand got spread around on the ice, and then it gets into his ankle joints. He can feel the little grinding crunch of the grains. His hands are getting beat up too. One of his fingers hasn't been moving right since Eidris.
There's no spare parts here, so he'll just have to fix the ones he's got. He sits down in one of the big open rooms, taking out an equipment case built into his armor, laying out all the little tools on a table.
There's a quiet whirring noise from his right leg. He holds it steady and twists, his knee coming straight out of its socket. It sounded a bit loud, though. Maybe something up at the plug needed cleaning. That would be a pain.
Ankle first, though. He puts his detached lower leg on the table, leaning in to inspect the joints. Not bad. Not great, though. He'll disassemble it.
Bits of leg start piling up on the table in neat little rows, all metal and military-grade polymer. He doesn't know the names for all the parts, but he knows what they all do, and what they should look like. And they're going to be keeping him busy for a while.
E. Curfew [[Quick! An excuse for CR!]]
Curfew is easy for Kahl. Now that he's figured out how long the day cycles are here, he set a timer in his augments. No guesswork required, he knows exactly how much time they've got until the doors slam shut.
Which is why he's gesturing urgently to someone still outside. "Curfew, fifteen seconds! Ghosts coming. Get in!"
F. Wildcard! [[Got another idea? Hit me up on the planning post/CR meme, at CellarSpider#9984, or at
PaleAntiquarian! If we've already discussed something, feel free to do your own TL!
And as a bonus for reading this far: the music from the title/cut text, We All Lift Together! I cannot be held liable if it gets stuck in your head for the next decade.]]
WHEN: Throughout December, mostly early in the month.
WHERE: The Inn and its surroundings.
WHAT: Kahl goes fishing, improvises some tableware, enjoys the snow, does some Cyborg Thingsā¢, and helps get people inside before curfew.
WARNINGS: None so far!
A. Fishing [[A relaxing pastime. Or is it?]]
Kahl's a little confused by the stick with a string on it, but he gets the idea. You put little bits of food on the hook, and that stabs the fish instead of Kahl stabbing them with a spear, right? It makes sense, but it's new to him.
So is fishing with ice. When he got deployed somewhere cold, it was cold. No liquid water anywhere. The idea of standing on a lake is weird, but it seems to be working so far.
Maybe. He hasn't seen any fish yet.
[[Either join Kahl in peaceful fishing adventures, or perhaps the ice starts making unpleasant noises under his weight. It might be about to give way...]]
B. Soup [[A primer on table manners in the Grineer Army.]]
Kahl caught fish! He'd been tempted to gut them and cook them out by the lake, but instead he brought them back to the kitchen. That would help pay for staying here.
And give him a chance to be proud of the fish.
It's not long before he's distracted by what's going on in the rest of the kitchen, though. "That smell good," he points to a large pot over a low fire. "Can eat?"
He gets the go-ahead. "Kahl thank," he unbuckles his helmet, running a hand over his bald head. That was a mistake. His prosthetics are cold.
All the more reason to have soup. It'll warm up the helmet before he puts it back on.
He ladles some soup into the helmet, grabbing a spoon on his way out of the kitchen and finding a seat somewhere near a fire to warm up.
He smiles to whoever else is nearby, gesturing with his makeshift bowl. "Good food here. You have enough?"
C. Snow [[See, snow!]]
The last time Kahl saw snow was in the army. But he hadn't really looked at it. You looked for stuff hiding in the snow. You looked for tracks that told you someone had walked through it. The snow itself was just there.
But now Kahl's thinking more about snow. How white it is until stuff gets in it, the crunching noises it makes in some places, and the way his feet sink into it when he walks.
Right now, he's just sitting outside the inn, looking at the snow. Picking up handfuls of it, trying to bring it up to his eye without breathing on it, so he can get a better look at what snow really is, before it turns into water.
There's a lot of stuff he missed in the army.
D. Maintenance [[Character deconstruction.]]
Snow is good. Ice, Kahl's less convinced about. And sand is bad. Sand got spread around on the ice, and then it gets into his ankle joints. He can feel the little grinding crunch of the grains. His hands are getting beat up too. One of his fingers hasn't been moving right since Eidris.
There's no spare parts here, so he'll just have to fix the ones he's got. He sits down in one of the big open rooms, taking out an equipment case built into his armor, laying out all the little tools on a table.
There's a quiet whirring noise from his right leg. He holds it steady and twists, his knee coming straight out of its socket. It sounded a bit loud, though. Maybe something up at the plug needed cleaning. That would be a pain.
Ankle first, though. He puts his detached lower leg on the table, leaning in to inspect the joints. Not bad. Not great, though. He'll disassemble it.
Bits of leg start piling up on the table in neat little rows, all metal and military-grade polymer. He doesn't know the names for all the parts, but he knows what they all do, and what they should look like. And they're going to be keeping him busy for a while.
E. Curfew [[Quick! An excuse for CR!]]
Curfew is easy for Kahl. Now that he's figured out how long the day cycles are here, he set a timer in his augments. No guesswork required, he knows exactly how much time they've got until the doors slam shut.
Which is why he's gesturing urgently to someone still outside. "Curfew, fifteen seconds! Ghosts coming. Get in!"
F. Wildcard! [[Got another idea? Hit me up on the planning post/CR meme, at CellarSpider#9984, or at
And as a bonus for reading this far: the music from the title/cut text, We All Lift Together! I cannot be held liable if it gets stuck in your head for the next decade.]]
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"No. I don't know anything about fishing." The great outdoors was never her forte. "But I do know it's dangerous, being on the edge of the ice like that. You sure you want to be so close?"
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Kahl slowly looks down at the hole in the ice, where he can see the layers. "Kahl been fine so far," but he wasn't sounding so sure now.
"People at inn tell Kahl, fishing okay." And he'd been happy to believe them. "Kahl not know much about ice." Maybe he should have asked more.
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"So far," Wanda echoes, arms crossing over her middle. "No offense, but you seem... heavier, than the average human."
He's big.
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Kahl really wants to say it will be fine. He wants it to be. He misses fishing.
But being stubborn when somebody else knows something? That usually doesn't work out. "Okay. Kahl... find other place for fish." He stands, and the ice creaks loudly under his feet. Some water bubbles up through small cracks around him.
"Bek." He has time for one swear before the ice breaks underneath him, dropping him into the lake. Red-hair Lady is right. Kahl is heavy.
And he doesn't float.
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He's heavy. So heavy that her magic struggles, which strikes her as odd, but she grunts through the exertion as she more or less flings him out and onto the bank rather than the ice again. Since he might just punch right through like a bowling ball.
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Then Kahl's flying, landing hard on the bank.
He coughs out a mouthful of dirty snow, lungs burning. But he didn't breathe in much lake water, thanks to... whatever just happened.
"Kahl... thank magic lady..." He eventually wheezes, hauling himself up to kneel and try to catch his breath.
Something doesn't feel right on his face. He tips his eyepatch up, icy water running out from under it. Augh. Cold, wet air on old wounds makes his head hurt bad. But hurting head and lungs are a lot better than dead.
"Bad mistake. Kahl not make twice." Once was too many times already.
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"Are you okay?" She asks. A lesson learned about the ice, at least. "Here."
A wave of her hand has the water wicking away from the surface of him, fending off some of the biting cold. Not a thorough job, but it'll help.
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And then suddenly a bunch of the water just leaves. His face is dry. "You do that too?" He looks up, with an overwhelmed little laugh. "Magic Lady good at that."
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Kahl, who will hopefully avoid ice from now on.