Log:Duck!

Duck!
Participants John, Haruki, Misty, Tock	8 April, 2017 '
Location Lake
It is a cold night in the Fort Brunsett area, and for whatever reason, either because you were going to the gun shop or just walking around the lake, you are somewhat startled out of the silence and white noise of the sound of the falls by a call of, "PULL!" followed by the blast of a shotgun. The calls repeat, followed by what sounds like swearing or cheering; it is clear that someone is doing some skeet shooting behind the gun shop. Out of curiosity, ennui, or random walking chance, you wander along the lakeshore or up the road to a field where John Preston is launching clay "ducks" into the air and, fast as the eye can follow, picking up a shotgun that he has leaning next to the machine and shooting at the clay ducks. As it is dark, he does not hit all the time, but he *does* hit on the last shot that you see, clay duck exploding. As you approach, he is setting down the shotgun and grabbing a beer. Near the skeet setup is a cooler filled with beer, and empty beer bottles. Tock nodnodnodnodnods to himself. As a long-time local, he's familiar with many of the peculiar predilections of particular people and their purported past-times. Although he has never met the gun store owner in person previously, he hears the cacophonous series of echoing explosive blasts that indicate that the man is once again shooting off shotguns in the dark. Likely intoxicated. On the off chance that the fellow is aiming at individual floating waterfowl, even this far out of October's _legal_ duck-hunting season, the inventor heads down to the water to retrieve his clockwork avians, lest a blast of flying lead transform one of them into sad and inert lumps of ducky -shaped shrapnel instead of the remarkably life-like decoys the windup toys are currently. Fetching the floating feathered contraptions from the water, Tock gives both of the a turn of the windup key for lively good measure. Of all the times for Haruki's car to break down, at night, in the middle of a 'snowstorm' (okay he hails from sunnier climes where even the slightest hint of snow is a snowstorm) and to add to his annoyance, his phone isn't working. So he's parked, at the side of the road, and is trudging towards the nearest house, waving his phone about trying to get a signal or something, when he hears the gunfire. He startles at the sound and begins to think better of this plan of wandering about like this. While he is dressed for the winter, it's most certainly not a winter in Vermont he's prepared for. Misty is often at and around the lake, for reasons that may be readily apparent to those who can see her for what she really is. For those who don't, well, the shooting is probably as good a reason as any for a lot of people to turn up investigating the commotion, sufficient explanation to the woman's arrival. That said, as she walks up, it's hard not to immediately notice that she doesn't really seem properly attired for the cold weather. Although she's found an obviously second-hand and size or two too-large jacket somewhere and thrown it on in some display of appropriate attire, that's really the only concession to the weather that she's made, with basic jeans and a thin top beneath it, and sneakers. No proper hat or gloves. Again, this may make more sense to some, and less to others. Arriving on the scene, she approaches warily first, maybe even finding some tree as cover, in case there's some sort of gang battle playing out. That's the sort of occurrence she's started to find -normal- in her strange new life. But instead, she just finds one man with a gun, shooting in the air. Well, 'man.' She looks up at the flying targets, and back down, but seems uncertain of approach, considering that he's armed and unfamiliar. John looks over at the folks heading towards his field here and sets down the beer he is finishing. "Well, hello," he says, somewhat flatly and vaguely confusedly. "I do not know you," he says to Misty, "I am sure that you I have seen but I do not recall meeting you," to Tock; and then lastly to Haruki, he says: "Magician! Come on over, it is safe!" John's hands are empty; he is not apparently armed, and the only weapon in easy reach is the now-empty disharged shotgun. Incidentally. "John!" Haruki calls out with such relief. "My car's broken! And I can't get a signal on my phone." He starts walking that way, quickly. "And it's freezing cold." Tock is, quite admittedly, a bit of an odd duck. And with a fully lifelike and fully life-sized mechanical Mallard under each arm, the number of incoming ducks, being three in number, is indeed odd. So that all works out rather tidily, numerologically speaking, and when the Numbers are all so copacetic and well-aligned, prim and proper in their formal order and arrangement, it's bound to be an Auspicious Sign for any College of Worms professor, be he a mechanical waterfowl aficionado or nae. Heartened by the auspice, Tock dares to approach the shooter, commenting, as he draws closer: I -must- say, dear fellow, with midnight on nigh . . . Is it -proper- to throw so much lead at the sky? Dawn's light is a mere five-odd hours away . . . Can't your hunting await for the light of the day? Once the weapon is down and he's not quite so close to it, Misty seems a little more willing to investigate, or at least step out from behind the trees, especially once the man speaks to her. Despite that initial gesture of caution, it would be wrong to call her skittish or visibly nervous, and there's a certain confidence to match any wariness, her light blue eyes set calmly on the man. "Mmm, you've probably seen me swimming," she offers by way of explanation, and there's little mincing words about it. And though for rare occasion her manner of dress hides some of the obvious facets of her nature, as soon as she speaks there's little doubt. There's magic even in the tones of her voice, something soothing and fascinating at once. The sigh she punctuates her thought with is airy and sweet. "But I'm worried it might freeze over." Then she looks at Tock and tilts her head. "Seen you swimming?" asks John of the woman, "I should think I would remember that particular experience; either that or I would be homosexual or dead. Come here and have a beer." To the rhyming man he cocks his head. "Those are some excellent ducks! I like nighttime shooting, it is -challenging-, and I," he drops his voice down to a drunken-too-loud-whisper, "am a very, very, very, very, very, very good marksman so I need a challenge." To Haruki, he scratches his head a moment, then moves over to a place next to the skeet shooting machine on the ground that is covered with a snow-covered tarp. Moving the tarp away to reveal an outdoor heating unit designed to allow skeet shooters on cold winter days to shoot in comfort, he kicks it on. "You can use my phone if you want to, Haruki, but have a beer first! All of you, enjoy." The selection of beers in the cooler are a variety of microbrews and Belgian ales, not your standard American beers. There's even some hard cider in there. It's winter. There's no way anyone is swimming in that lake. She must mean the swimming pool. Haruki happily rationalises what he hears that is not meant for him. That voice though, it's a distraction and he gazes at Misty as she speaks, and almost forgets that he too is freezing. He walks over to where John is. "Ah, a busy night." A look is given to Tock, more in response to that odd rhyme. He doesn't comment. Nope. He smiles at John. "Ah, thanks. I can't drink though since I'm driving. That won't go down well. But thanks so much for your hospitality." He does move closer to the heating, just to get warm. Tock seems content to relegate the town's merfolk- representative to the periphery of his attention, for now, while he proceeds to deal with the matter of mid-night shotgunning nigh at-hand. He tips the brim of his battered top hat in salute to John, quite cheerily enough, and politely wipes the ducky water from his hands and onto the fringes of his tweed houndstooth jacket before holding out a hand for John to shake, should he be willing to conduct this encounter on genteel, polite and civil terms: The name here is "Tolliver," happy to say, And equally happy to bid you: "Good Day!" It's always a pleasure to meet someone new, Especially others who're "Lost": such as you! I must say it's puzzle-ing -- odd, to be sure, to see you outside here, and not at the store. And stranger yet still with a un-chambered round near a still-smoking shotgun right there on the ground. . . Tock then pauses to see how well this oblique reference to what might otherwise properly be called summary "disturbing of the peace" is going over with his "target audience" . . . There is a touch of a smile at how John phrases his disbelief, and yet, Misty persists with her version of things. "Perhaps just -after- I'd been swimming, then?" Even now, her hair looks wet. Well, to some, anyway! "I don't know. But if you'd seen me here, I was here for the water, not the neighborhood." And there is a certain sharpness to the last of those words, although it may well go unnoticed amidst the melody of her voice. Still, she caps it all off with a simple "Alright," at the offer of a drink and proceeds to amble that way, smiling very slightly. She's always very minimal with smiles. Since it's on offer, she will go up and help herself to a beer, with the logic of free anything being good. With this, she will observe Tock and John's interaction from the periphery, allowing the spell of her voice to fade away and not distract their business. Though she will glance toward Haruki and offer just a word: "Hello." John looks to Tolliver and says, "Oh! I own this land; the store and the house and the dock and this field are all my property. So I am just shooting on my skeet shooting range. I guess it -is- a bit late and the water carries the sound across to the other houses on the lake, but I find the waterfall tends to drown the sound out. If you would like, Tolliver, have a drink. This is the Magician Haruki, a great stage magician." Then to the woman he says, "I do not know; you are someone who just seems familiar. What is your name? Mine is John." Lastly, to Haruki, he says: "I can get you a nonalcoholic beverage if you would like? I was going to go in and get some snacks soon anyway." Then he reaches into his Grammaton coat and takes out a small cigarette case. He opens it, removes a fat hand-rolled cigarette and lights it. The smell of marijuana touches the air, and he takes a puff and inhales. As he is holding the smoke in, he sort of exhales as he 'squeaks' out, "You could have some of this!" ...and offers it to Haruki. "Hello," Haruki replies to Misty with a smile. He huddles closer to the heater, checks his phone again. He smiles at John. "That'd be nice, thanks. Anything hot, if that's not too much trouble?" He shakes his head at the offer of the joint. "Ah, no thank you." Tock is left standing somewhat awkwardly with his hand still outstretched in his offer of polite and gentlemanly greeting as yet unaccepted. Accommodating those circumstances, he proceeds with attempt number two: How splendid to offer a pint to us all, Your courtesy goes beyond duty and call, Might we then extend it to shake on a deal? I'll help sight you in if you shoot with less zeal. In trade for a promise to shoot when it's light, I'll fine-tune align yonder weapon's gun-sight. You'll find it more accurate at extreme range, Please try it and see -- it's a worthy exchange! "Misty," is the woman's answer. Which sounds like a name for a pet dog or a stripper, not a normal person, but who knows. With her beer, the young lady now seems to treat words at a premium, offering little in the way of extraneous chatter, which certainly makes things easier for everyone around her. Heck, getting her a bottle to busy herself with could qualify as a strategy for keeping things on point. Her brows do arch up a little at the man's second offering. Hospitable fellow. When she does finally speak up again, it's after a brief look around. "You own this land? How much? How long ago? I remember when- well. I guess things have changed, though maybe not that much." John puts the joint in his off-hand and says to Tolliver, "You are a gunsmith as well? I need no particular honing of the shotgun--" he gestures to the shop just behind him. "I have a workshop in there, and custom-design guns. But I will, nonetheless, out of politeness, pledge on the gun itself not to fire it until at least this afternoon, and gladly." He shakes the man's hand. "Perhaps another time, when I am not so...intoxicated, we could talk shop." Here's the weird damn thing about John. He is pretty obviously sort of blitzed, from the slight swaying he is doing and the look in his eyes. But his language is -incredibly- precise. He doesn't use contractions, and his grammar is impeccable--almost mechanically dry. To Misty, he says, "I bought it not too long ago, and the construction on my house and the shop just recently completed. Yesterday they delivered my powerboat." He gestures to the dock. To Haruki, he says, "Not at all--give me a moment." He walks to the cabin door, opens it, and disappears for a bit, shortly thereafter he comes out with a mini-microwave and a basket. He plugs the microwave into the strip by the skeet shooting machine and proceeds to take a bottle of water from the basket, pour it into a cup, and put it into the microwave. A few seconds later, he stirs in some Godiva hot chocolate mix and hands it to Haruki. "If anyone else wants some...?" "Dave said you had a boat," Haruki says. "He was really excited about it." He takes the cup, smiling a thankyou, warming his hands around the drink, and breathing in the steam. "Thanks so much." He seems a little lost with the rest of the conversation, Tock's words swimming, and every word of Misty's oh so distracting. Tock shakes John's proffered hand cheerfully, lifting and lowering his own hand precisely the same distance with each and every shake, at even intervals of precisely two shakes per second for precisely two seconds total, his head nodnodnodding ever-so-slightly in perfect timing with the handshake motion. Tock gingerly sets his mechanical and watersogged burdens down on the ground at his feet and checks twice to make sure his ducks are all in a row, literally and metaphorically speaking, before opening and hoisting a hard cider in an appreciative toast and earnest salute to their host's courtesy and agreeable nature. This is why Misty sometimes does try and keep her rambling to a minimum. Indeed, while John is inside, she doesn't say anything, just sipping her beer and smiling - in her restrained way - at Haruki. But you know. The girl can't always help it, and the topic of the lake and its environs does seem one that fascinates her as much as she might unaturally fascinate others. So when the man comes back, or more precisely, when the topic of the lake gets expanded to the topic of lake plus boat, she does speak up again, shaking her head at the chocolate offer as the beer apparently suffices. "A boat? Oh, you know, I used to..." And here she just seems to lose track and then rapidly pick up elsewhere, "Anyway, it's a great place for it. But you should reeeallly," and yes, now she's drawling out words for all their lyrical worth, "Be careful. I can see you don't mind partying a little," and a quick smile flashes, showing no judgment on this count or even approval, "but mix the two, and it can be trouble. So easy to turn a fun outing into something dangerous, something with a sad ending. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" It's like molasses in the air, after all of that. John looks to Tock as they finish the precisely-timed handshake and then kneels down, smoking his joint, and examines one of the mechanical ducks--without touching it--very carefully. Several times, it looks like he might teeter over, but he seems to be dextrous enough to avoid that fate at the last moment each time. He says, "This is some precision work, Tolliver." As he stands, a cloud of smoke surrounding his head, he says, "Well, Misty, when I am drinking, I only shoot at targets, nothing that could cause problems. I assure you. I am not a reckless man, but rather quite precise. I do understand your concern--I have known many who show no such restraint, or have callings towards more wild behavior; I am not one of those types of people. If any of you, not just Haruki here, wants some of this," he gestures with the joint, "just ask." The man is mellow. Between Misty and the weed, how could he not be? And to Haruki he says, "Yes, I did tell Dave that I had a boat, and offered it to him to use if he wanted. He wanted an idea of something that you and he could enjoy together and I offered the option of my boat. I cannot go out on it all the time, and the lake is too nice to not let folk enjoy it if I have the power to." "I've heard it's dangerous," Haruki says. "The lake. That it's not safe to be on one of the banks." He can't seem to remember which. "That people go missing and the currents are tricky." He's looking worried at all of this. He nods at John. "Maybe when the weather's better. Although he seems so eager to go now. It is very kind of you to offer though." Tock takes prudent care to avoid speaking whenever Misty is talking and working her magic -- and for quite some time afterwards as well. Instead he concentrates on his cider, the lake, the quiet, the peaceful drifting snowflakes and the glinting stars overhead. Not bad, this lakeside cabin retreat. Not bad at all . . . He ducks his head modestly in polite and self-deprecating response to John's admiration of his handiwork, and closes his eyes to listen to the far-off rustle of the waterfall and the stacatto lapping of the thawing waters on the banks of the lake. "Oh, I meant if you take the boat out." Apparently she's less concerned with gun safety, for whatever reason! "And I don't mean to nag. It's actually a lot of fun partying out on the water. But... well, it *is* dangerous, too," Misty agrees, dovetailing one line of conversation with the other as she shifts her gaze ever so slightly between John and Haruki. "So one should always be just a little mindful." Beneath the lush tones, she speaks as if with a certain degree of experience on the subject. All that said, she abruptly declares: "Take me." On the boat, one would assume she means! "And any others if you like. Out on the water with your boat. Do so and I promise we'll have a lovely time. Fair weather, no ill currents." John says, "I do not find the lake dangerous, but I do not know the tales you are speaking of. The weather is warm enough to use the boat in--the lake rarely freezes in this part because of the waterfall." To Misty, he says, "At least, like Misty here says, so long as you are not drunk. I could take you out, Misty, but I think Haruki and Dave wanted some time to bond."