EASEL (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fastestdraw) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2016-10-19 08:01 pm
fastestdraw) wrote in lostcarnival2016-10-19 08:01 pm
What are you doing out here in the sticks?
Who: Easel and OPEN!
Where: Outside the Cookhouse.
When: The evening after the Ringmaster makes her request.
What: Beware centaurs selling tree parts. (Being wary is not, in fact, all that necessary.)
[A job's a job, and Easel? Hey, he's always one to rise to the occasion!
Of course, fancies himself more of a doer than a craftsman, and his first thought on the Ringmaster's request going out was to head out and gather materials.
He's done a couple of galloping loops around the main grounds looking for suitable wood to bend into hoops - and he's not been simply looking for fallen twigs; suffice to say some of what he's brought are boughs burnt at their ends.
Either way, he's come back into the carnival with a haul of crafting supplies in the form of a bundle of branches and sticks! And... ah, he hadn't thought out how he'd get back from his little collecting mission beforehand. He's only got one lasso, and he hadn't brought any sort of cover with him, so he's been toting a lopsided load of uncut wood against and bouncing-slash-scraping against one of his sides on his way back into the carnival. He's re-entered with an awkward gate and a somewhat-scuffed, maybe-soon-to-be-found splintery flank, but he's toughed it out! Any other worker he's bumped into while hauling his bundle, he's sure to have given a usual cordial "Howdy" and/or "Ma'am".
But still.
When he reaches the cookhouse, he's quick to un-loop his load of branches next to the entrance, wipe his forehead with the back of his hand with a loud "Hooo!" (Has he actually been sweating? It'd be hard for anyone passing by to tell, and he, himself, doesn't especially-actively think about that sort of thing.)
Aaand he's going to need to rearrange and re-loop them to actually bring the wood inside, which he knows and isn't, well, isn't unwilling to do, but still, it does hit him that surely more than a few of the carnival staff are going to have some interest in dreamcatcher-crafting, and so...
Anyone about to enter the cookhouse will get him perking and straightening up, lifting a hand and getting a side-to-side wave.]
'Scuse me, there!
[Again, with a "ma'am" or "partner" as appropriate.
And if they pause:]
Y'all wouldn't happen to have yourself any use for some spare wood, there, would ya?
[A gesture down to the pile of wood stacked up on his right.]
Where: Outside the Cookhouse.
When: The evening after the Ringmaster makes her request.
What: Beware centaurs selling tree parts. (Being wary is not, in fact, all that necessary.)
[A job's a job, and Easel? Hey, he's always one to rise to the occasion!
Of course, fancies himself more of a doer than a craftsman, and his first thought on the Ringmaster's request going out was to head out and gather materials.
He's done a couple of galloping loops around the main grounds looking for suitable wood to bend into hoops - and he's not been simply looking for fallen twigs; suffice to say some of what he's brought are boughs burnt at their ends.
Either way, he's come back into the carnival with a haul of crafting supplies in the form of a bundle of branches and sticks! And... ah, he hadn't thought out how he'd get back from his little collecting mission beforehand. He's only got one lasso, and he hadn't brought any sort of cover with him, so he's been toting a lopsided load of uncut wood against and bouncing-slash-scraping against one of his sides on his way back into the carnival. He's re-entered with an awkward gate and a somewhat-scuffed, maybe-soon-to-be-found splintery flank, but he's toughed it out! Any other worker he's bumped into while hauling his bundle, he's sure to have given a usual cordial "Howdy" and/or "Ma'am".
But still.
When he reaches the cookhouse, he's quick to un-loop his load of branches next to the entrance, wipe his forehead with the back of his hand with a loud "Hooo!" (Has he actually been sweating? It'd be hard for anyone passing by to tell, and he, himself, doesn't especially-actively think about that sort of thing.)
Aaand he's going to need to rearrange and re-loop them to actually bring the wood inside, which he knows and isn't, well, isn't unwilling to do, but still, it does hit him that surely more than a few of the carnival staff are going to have some interest in dreamcatcher-crafting, and so...
Anyone about to enter the cookhouse will get him perking and straightening up, lifting a hand and getting a side-to-side wave.]
'Scuse me, there!
[Again, with a "ma'am" or "partner" as appropriate.
And if they pause:]
Y'all wouldn't happen to have yourself any use for some spare wood, there, would ya?
[A gesture down to the pile of wood stacked up on his right.]
no subject
[Brook had come in to badger the employees into making him some paella (whether or not they actually had the ingredients) when he spotted a fellow skeleton. Easel, that was his name...]
Oh, I get it. You're after the Ringmaster's... reward, aren't you?
[Somehow
there had been some sort of misunderstanding...]
no subject
For now, at least.]
Howdy, Kingy!
[Just... a casual, friendly callback to the fan nickname Brook brought up!]
You can say that! All I can say I'm right-out trying to do is see if I can help with fillin' the lady's request, as best I can.
[Little laugh - not to disparage anyone who is after a boon, and yeah, not like he's going to pretend it's out of pure honor and personal loyalty that he's bound to to working for the Ringmaster, himself. (Though having work-work, period, is much more of a draw to him than payment.)]
'Course, it ain't like prospective payoff never hurt nobody, neither. I get that that's what some are gunning for!
no subject
[Actually, Brook did seem to have some ribbons and strings and various other odds and ends on him. He was motivated on this one.]
But somehow, I can't quite seem to get the hang of it...
[And in fact, he had several dreamcatchers or attempts at them scattered about, but most seemed a little... irregular. There was the square one, for instance. And another that looked like a cat had gotten into the string.]
no subject
Tell me about the type of wood.
[Zecora reaches out to prod the stack with an obsidian hoof. She'd lost a great deal of sensation in them thanks to the transformation, so touch isn't her best tool to evaluate them, but old habits die hard.]
no subject