Oswald Wuthridge (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ossie_oswald) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-09-21 03:00 pm
ossie_oswald) wrote in come_sailaway2022-09-21 03:00 pm
You've got to give until you get (open)
CHARACTERS: Ossie and YOU!
DATE: Post-excursion
LOCATION: Various
SITUATION: Ossie concocts some bright ideas
WARNINGS: Aftermath of excessive drinking
Ossie hasn’t felt the full brunt of a hangover in something like sixty-ish years. It’s a rough guess; one day he woke up for another morning of torment in Arcadia without a pounding headache. Or perhaps just not feeling it anymore. Like an evolutionary adaption on a much smaller scale. Or maybe his liver is magic now. Who knows? Not him.
The point is that he swans out of bed as put-together as he always is, rising early with Giles. He has a plan thought of last night and he’s intending on following through. Write drunk and edit sober, as they say.
At around midday, there’s a knock at your door. A small care package of painkillers and bottled water has been left for you, along with a small wrapped sweet from Scoops. Ossie can be seen dropping off a similar package at the doors neighbouring yours.
You might be wanting a nice quiet breakfast/brunch/’whenever you wake up’ meal to deal with the worst of the Never Have I Ever game. TOO BAD, HERE’S OSWALD. He’s just going to sit himself down across from you with something to snack on for himself, asking something to the effect of “how have you pulled up?” “are you feeling alright?” “do you want me to get you some water?”
He might be mother hen-ing a bit.
Ossie’s on a tear. He can’t help it. Once he gets going with the gift-giving he’s a veritable little Saint Nick. Even if you aren’t hungover, or really doing much of anything, you’re not safe from Ossie.
Catch him leaving a little packet of trail mix in amongst your belongings if you leave them unattended, or dropping it near you while you’re doing something else.
Wildcard!
DATE: Post-excursion
LOCATION: Various
SITUATION: Ossie concocts some bright ideas
WARNINGS: Aftermath of excessive drinking
You've got to prime the pump, you must have faith and believe
Ossie hasn’t felt the full brunt of a hangover in something like sixty-ish years. It’s a rough guess; one day he woke up for another morning of torment in Arcadia without a pounding headache. Or perhaps just not feeling it anymore. Like an evolutionary adaption on a much smaller scale. Or maybe his liver is magic now. Who knows? Not him.
The point is that he swans out of bed as put-together as he always is, rising early with Giles. He has a plan thought of last night and he’s intending on following through. Write drunk and edit sober, as they say.
At around midday, there’s a knock at your door. A small care package of painkillers and bottled water has been left for you, along with a small wrapped sweet from Scoops. Ossie can be seen dropping off a similar package at the doors neighbouring yours.
You've got to give of yourself 'fore you're worthy to receive
You might be wanting a nice quiet breakfast/brunch/’whenever you wake up’ meal to deal with the worst of the Never Have I Ever game. TOO BAD, HERE’S OSWALD. He’s just going to sit himself down across from you with something to snack on for himself, asking something to the effect of “how have you pulled up?” “are you feeling alright?” “do you want me to get you some water?”
He might be mother hen-ing a bit.
Drink all the water you can hold, wash your face, cool your feet
Ossie’s on a tear. He can’t help it. Once he gets going with the gift-giving he’s a veritable little Saint Nick. Even if you aren’t hungover, or really doing much of anything, you’re not safe from Ossie.
Catch him leaving a little packet of trail mix in amongst your belongings if you leave them unattended, or dropping it near you while you’re doing something else.
Leave the bottle full for others, thank you kindly, desert Pete
Wildcard!
no subject
"Had dealings with Autumn, have you?" he asks in an implacably chipper tone.
"Not to worry old thing, these here are pro bono publico. Buckshee, if you will. I paid nothing for these, and so I distribute them free of any strings. You can have my word on that, if you'd like, though I don't have a pen on me."
no subject
"Sorry for being a hardass about this," they say in a bitter tone that isn't sorry at all, "I've worked under enough shitty contracts in my time."
And that was before becoming a temp worker!
no subject
He clears his throat, takes the pen and begins to write.
"I Oswald Wuthridge the undersigned do hereby henceforth forfeit any and all undue influence that could be wielded over the recipients of my gifts while aboard this vessel, save for goodwill between the recipient and myself and any other prior agreed upon terms, including but not limited to favours bargains deals or pledges. I formally waive any responsibility on the recipients behalf to repay the gifts. Furthermore, no tertiary party has permission to attempt to either wield influence or demand repayment for the aforementioned gifts. Should I transgress any aspect of this pledge, may my own sorceries turn against me."
He hasn't bound it yet, but he offers the paper back to April to review.
"Any edits, old thing?"
no subject
April mumbles something under their breath that might be about not calling them 'old thing' as they snatch the paper and read it over.
They're reminded why they hate contract negotiating. God, where's Flan when you need her? Not only does she love dealing with the strange and the fair (Flan's risk assessment being 'that sounds like the fae's problem', logic that April agrees with), she also never leaves home without their version of the Public Service Employees Union handbook and attends every meeting she can. She'd have something to say about the contract negotia- oh who are they kidding? This contract is friendly enough that she'd sign off on it anyway.
April taps their pen to a few places that irritate them - how broad this contract is, written to apply to anybody on this ship when April couldn't give a rat's ass; the note about no influence but goodwill, maybe; how airtight it seems, even if it's complying with what April asked for. April begins writing a little arrow to where they're planning on adding a restriction against 'old thing' or any other potentially familiar terms, when a better idea strikes them.
"You know what, hold on." April says, gesturing with their hand before abruptly flipping to a new page of the notepad.
They start writing (without narration, they don't have anything to prove), occasionally drawing a long line across or down the page, and when they're done they pass this over to Oswald:
RETURN DELIVERY NOTE
Vendor: ____________
Customer: April
Collect From:
Cabin 128, Deck 2
Serena Eterna
Reason for return: Items were not ordered by customer or paid for by customer.
Returned by: ____________ (signature)
Received by: ____________ (signature)
"There, that should be simpler and cleaner." April says, and turns turns the notepad around to the stranger handing out candy. "Just need you to sign for this here and there."
They tap the blank line beside 'Vendor' and 'Received by'.
no subject
Ossie checks over it once, twice, then nods and signs it.
"I take a 'no' you know. Honestly. I'm not one of the Gentry."
no subject
They watch him sign with their arms crossed, like an agitated suburban homeowner judging an underpaid delivery guy.
"Sorry for my skepticism; When I see something that looks like a goose and smells like a goose, and knows way too much about contracts like a goose, I tend to treat it like a goose until I see compelling proof otherwise."
April is still standoffish, but with the return sorted out and their headache forgotten, they are... very slightly... easing up a little.
no subject
"Unless you'd like me to sign to ensure that I won't steal your soul over this, too," he jokes. It's only a little bitter.
"Sometimes it is a goose, yes, but often it's a... chipmunk that has been ushered into a goose's nest, sat on, pecked at, fed birdseed, and eventually flees covered in goose feathers."
He tilts his head ever-so-slightly, "though I say- I didn't take you for a Hob when I saw you. Rather suspected you were closer to being one of us. A kind of Mirrorskin I'd never seen before, wot."
no subject
Any comments about geese, real or metaphorical, are derailed by his other comments. The wrinkles of April's face give the impression of narrowed eyes as they work on translating whatever the hell he's talking about. A hob? Like those little household guys? How dare he, April has never helped anyone a day in their life (which is untrue, but they wish it wasn't).
'Mirrorskin' is a better tip-off, in that it's a word that's strange even to them. Ahh, this is an alternate-universe thing.
Ultimately, though, the answer is the same: "I'm not whatever either of those things are. Which is a cheap answer because different worlds have different rules."
April shrugs. "But I suspect I wouldn't fall into either. We're not big on being categorized back home."
Hey, his gig is up and he was a sport about the returns thing, April might as well have the manners not to lie blatantly to his face.
no subject
"Fair enough, I suppose. Not everywhere can have such neat categories as we do back home. And I imagine if we were alike in nature in any way, you would've said. Which makes me rather curious as to how you know of us and our customs. Of course, you don't owe me the explanation," he clarifies, because apparently he has to, here.
no subject
Anyway, April is fortunately more confident in their ability to escape a conversation than they are with debt, and they nod, leaning against their doorframe.
"It's funny, what seems to be universal, isn't it?" they say in answer. "That said, I suppose 'entitled group of beings with as much power as they have self importance' is broad enough to fit something in many worlds."
That doesn't answer the question, and while April enjoys being the one saying annoyingly cryptic things sometimes, this shit is going to come up eventually:
"Anyway, worked at a paranormal research institute, we had procedures written up for anything that might come knocking. The world's full of Strange things."
They cross their arms, taking a long moment to add one more concession, since this is the whole reason they're down this road: "... That, and it's a big pond out there. If you're a strange duck, it's good to be aware of the geese and the swans."
(Look, the waterfront was a great photo-op spot, alright? So what if they got into birdwatching for a bit?)no subject
"As good a reason to know as any, I suppose. Although don't go spreading it around, will you? I've been fairly open about what I am to those who've asked, but it's still my story to tell, and it's not a pleasant one."
no subject
Given his nature, they'd guess he'd be able to retain a little more than average about them, so why not nip it here while they both have the chance -
Suddenly aware of the notepad and pen still in their hands, they untuck their hands just enough to leave their arms crossed in an X in front of them.
"No signing for anything, we'll stick to the honour system." they add.
Or mutually assured destruction, April could work with either one, but the former is more flexible... And less stressful.
no subject
Ossie inclines his head towards them.
"I suppose 'can I have your name' would be a distasteful joke under the circs, but is there something I may call you by?"
no subject
"Oh, no worries, there isn't anything there to be 'had' in the first place." they say.
The smile ebbs back to a normal level of clarity (at least, for April, which is 'there if you're looking), and they tip their head. "But April works."
Sometimes, April finds it interesting to see how the name sticks with people: if the fact that it's the same as a month will be what gets held onto, or if it'll be the first letter or number syllables that steer the guessing game. But with other strange things like themselves, a name can settle in with a few encounters - or less, depending on their nature. Maybe the metaphorical goose feathers stuck to this guy will speed up the process of acclimating to April's identity issues.
"What about you? Any preferences?" They ask, since it feels fair.
Yeah, he said his name while narrating his contract, but the name he gives on a contract and the one he's actually comfortable giving to an identity-ambiguous creature could be different things.
no subject
He's got April to smile, so that's a little victory to keep close to heart, even if they don't quite feel comfortable with him yet. They'll get there.
"Do you imbibe beverages, April? Or eat? Once I'm finished delivering these, I couldn't tempt you to talk over tea, could I? You of course would be in control of procuring your own refreshments and you'd owe me nothing for it, wot."
no subject
Just a little snort, but it's still a sight more positive than how they started this meeting (and probably another win for Ossie).
"Sure I do, and sounds fair to me." they say.