action/video → open, all things encouraged, come eat

[emends]

[ It’s only a few hours after sunrise when Lucina fetches up her communicator. She’s a seasoned hand at going without long stretches of sleep and has already made herself useful. There’s a steady, crackling fire going on the beach and above it, a fair amount of speared fish roasting calmly. (They’re dead. That’s why they’re calm.) There’s also a small selection of forest fruit – calabaza, naseberries and soursop – resting on her strewn cape, less than a foot away from the fire pit.

She’s noticeably sunburnt. Her boots are off and her trousers are rolled up to her knees, leaving her with bright red patches on her lower legs to match the one on her nose. She also doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the affliction, her tone even and her face halfway to a smile. ]

I have managed to get some food for us. Should anyone wish to break their fast, there is a serviceable selection at the beach. Come quick, for I’m afraid it will be first come, first serve.

[ The communicator feed clicks off, and then clicks back on. ]

And, um – good morning, friends.

[ She smiles! Inigo would be so proud of her. The call closes once again. You can call her back, either to yell at her for waking you up or yell at her for not grabbing the fruit you like, or just come down and eat. Threadjacking and mingling are encouraged. ]

Comments

[socrash]

'Sir'? [Bart wrinkles his nose at that, clearly displeased. does he look old to be called a sir, really??] Dude, even my grandpa doesn't get called 'sir' and he's like--super-old.

[he was about to say forty, but a fourty year old man with a thirteen year old grandkid is kind of really questionable. besides, fourty is still ancient in Bart-years.]

You can call me Impulse instead. That's way more crash than 'sir.'

[emends]

[ Way more... what?

Lucina only has half an idea what he's saying; even all her years listening to Brady hasn't prepared her for the sort of words these people use. She does her best to nod regardless. ]

I beg your forgiveness for my poor manners, si— um, Impulse.

[socrash]

[Sigh, all these poor plebians who need to be brought up to speed on the ways of the young and the hip. But never fear, Lucina, for Bart shall show you the light and open up your world!

....As soon as he finishes eating breakfast.]

Forgiveness totally granted. [Even though he should be the one begging forgiveness, considering now rude he is.] Hey, can I have some fish?

[Sudden subject change is go!]

[emends]

Yes. Help yourself, please.

[ She picks up a cooked skewer and holds it out to him. ]

[socrash]

Thanks!

[He takes the proffered skewer with enthusiasm and then proceeds to eat the food faster than even a young growing boy ought to have any right to eat.]

Thi'sh i'sh rea'y 'oood!

[That may have been a tiny piece of fish flying past your ear, Lucina.]

[emends]

[ She leans the opposite way, just a smidge, not appearing particularly bothered by the projectile half-chewed food flying where it will. ]

It's nothing fancy. Here, I imagine the theme is, "make do with what you have."