Sawbones Jetshard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dubiouslychthonic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
phantasmalrift2018-04-11 01:16 am
dubiouslychthonic) wrote in phantasmalrift2018-04-11 01:16 am
youth spent as a deckhand on the convoy
Who: Jetshard and you!
What: evening shift at the medbay, weird troll food, and early morning hikes.
When: First week of April
Where: medbay, kitchen, and cliff tops
Warnings: Nothing expected
A - All week, medbay, late evening
[Each night, Jetshard can be found in the medbay for several hours, starting around seven and staying at least until midnight. It's the most reliable part of her schedule; if you're looking to actually track her down on purpose, this is the most predictable time and place. Also, if you need medical help. That'd be a good reason to show up here, too. She spends most of the time puttering around the supplies, or in a corner with a book in hand, or casually talking with Strange. But if someone else comes in, she's alert, and interested.]
B - April 4, kitchen, after midnight
[A bit after midnight. You know, lunch time.
Jetshard is fully aware that she's not going to be winning any prizes for her grubloaf - especially when the recipe is half substitutions and half trying to recreate a real grubloaf recipe from memory - but on the other grapsing appendage she's pretty sure she's the only one who's actually using the grubmeal in any significant way. And even if it's not great grubloaf it's at least not on the level of "culinary disaster" that seems to come out of the station's kitchens on a distressingly regular basis.
On the other hand, she didn't really account for the amount of time it would take to bake, so while the oven fills the kitchen with a scent that's really more earthy than savory and a little tangy, and the mixing bowl and cutting board dry in the rack next to the sink, Jetshard is leaning against the counter and absently stirring a cup of Alternian Cup Noodle with a fork. When someone else enters, she waves, with the hand still holding the fork.]
Let me know if I'm in your way? I'm just waiting for something to come out of the calefaction locker.
C - April 8, clifftop near the lighthouse, early morning
[Honestly, if anyone around here was familiar with the idiosyncracities of different troll colors, Jetshard's willingly being out here after sunrise would probably be a pretty good indication of her being jade. Not terribly long after sunrise, of course - it's only about seven - and in the rain, but still. Out for a hike in the morning, and making no particular effort to avoid the occasional breaks of sun.
In fact, she pauses a moment near the cliff overlooking Glitterstone Beach as a beam of sunlight breaks over the shore, catching the scale gravel of the beach.]
Mothers, that's lovely.
What: evening shift at the medbay, weird troll food, and early morning hikes.
When: First week of April
Where: medbay, kitchen, and cliff tops
Warnings: Nothing expected
A - All week, medbay, late evening
[Each night, Jetshard can be found in the medbay for several hours, starting around seven and staying at least until midnight. It's the most reliable part of her schedule; if you're looking to actually track her down on purpose, this is the most predictable time and place. Also, if you need medical help. That'd be a good reason to show up here, too. She spends most of the time puttering around the supplies, or in a corner with a book in hand, or casually talking with Strange. But if someone else comes in, she's alert, and interested.]
B - April 4, kitchen, after midnight
[A bit after midnight. You know, lunch time.
Jetshard is fully aware that she's not going to be winning any prizes for her grubloaf - especially when the recipe is half substitutions and half trying to recreate a real grubloaf recipe from memory - but on the other grapsing appendage she's pretty sure she's the only one who's actually using the grubmeal in any significant way. And even if it's not great grubloaf it's at least not on the level of "culinary disaster" that seems to come out of the station's kitchens on a distressingly regular basis.
On the other hand, she didn't really account for the amount of time it would take to bake, so while the oven fills the kitchen with a scent that's really more earthy than savory and a little tangy, and the mixing bowl and cutting board dry in the rack next to the sink, Jetshard is leaning against the counter and absently stirring a cup of Alternian Cup Noodle with a fork. When someone else enters, she waves, with the hand still holding the fork.]
Let me know if I'm in your way? I'm just waiting for something to come out of the calefaction locker.
C - April 8, clifftop near the lighthouse, early morning
[Honestly, if anyone around here was familiar with the idiosyncracities of different troll colors, Jetshard's willingly being out here after sunrise would probably be a pretty good indication of her being jade. Not terribly long after sunrise, of course - it's only about seven - and in the rain, but still. Out for a hike in the morning, and making no particular effort to avoid the occasional breaks of sun.
In fact, she pauses a moment near the cliff overlooking Glitterstone Beach as a beam of sunlight breaks over the shore, catching the scale gravel of the beach.]
Mothers, that's lovely.
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[This is too meta, 'zunia.]
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No, I think we're all grasping futilely enough at a functional circadian rhythm as it is.
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