11-09-2018, 12:46 PM
[align=center]
/mcscuse me des better not be dead
Pip was...tired. Physically, he had a reason: packing tins of ointments and salves and bandages into little pouches, which he would give to anyone he came across. It was time-consuming, and there were so many people he wasn't certain he would get to them all. It wasn't as though he had a formal process for offering them- to do that, they'd need a register of everyone in The Typhoon, so Pip could go through the list and mark off names, but people came and went at such rates that a census was perhaps more trouble than it was worth. If it were possible, it would certainly be helpful, though, but since it seemed a distant possibility, he resigned himself to simply creating as many as he could, and giving them to those he passed who did not carry one, or who he did not remember offering one to. A little arduous, yes, so he was tired, and his burns were still healing, in such an awkward position that whenever he moved it could be painful. His fault.
More than physically fatigued, however, his spirit felt dampened, barely fluttering above the dirt. To want to help people -anyone, everyone, regardless of who they were or what they'd done- did not fit well in this place, where aggression and hostility came first and foremost. It was difficult. Sometimes he wondered how Jacob managed, because he remembered him as...gentle. Did he delude himself? Or did he care too much about these people to allow the blood to mar how he saw them?
He wished he knew. He wished- no. It didn't matter.
What mattered was following through with his purpose, and so when he saw the pair at the gates, drawn by the bell. He glanced at Cleo, before his gaze quickly skirted away, back to the child and his guardian. Whether they were here to stay or not didn't change Pip's willingness to help however he could, so he pulled out two of the pouches from his satchel and roamed forward to set them at their paws. "They're first-aid kits, just in case. You're free to take them whether or not you're staying." He smiled, though it was a bit wan. "I'm Peppino, but you can call me Pip."
[align=right][i]INFORMATION
Pip was...tired. Physically, he had a reason: packing tins of ointments and salves and bandages into little pouches, which he would give to anyone he came across. It was time-consuming, and there were so many people he wasn't certain he would get to them all. It wasn't as though he had a formal process for offering them- to do that, they'd need a register of everyone in The Typhoon, so Pip could go through the list and mark off names, but people came and went at such rates that a census was perhaps more trouble than it was worth. If it were possible, it would certainly be helpful, though, but since it seemed a distant possibility, he resigned himself to simply creating as many as he could, and giving them to those he passed who did not carry one, or who he did not remember offering one to. A little arduous, yes, so he was tired, and his burns were still healing, in such an awkward position that whenever he moved it could be painful. His fault.
More than physically fatigued, however, his spirit felt dampened, barely fluttering above the dirt. To want to help people -anyone, everyone, regardless of who they were or what they'd done- did not fit well in this place, where aggression and hostility came first and foremost. It was difficult. Sometimes he wondered how Jacob managed, because he remembered him as...gentle. Did he delude himself? Or did he care too much about these people to allow the blood to mar how he saw them?
He wished he knew. He wished- no. It didn't matter.
What mattered was following through with his purpose, and so when he saw the pair at the gates, drawn by the bell. He glanced at Cleo, before his gaze quickly skirted away, back to the child and his guardian. Whether they were here to stay or not didn't change Pip's willingness to help however he could, so he pulled out two of the pouches from his satchel and roamed forward to set them at their paws. "They're first-aid kits, just in case. You're free to take them whether or not you're staying." He smiled, though it was a bit wan. "I'm Peppino, but you can call me Pip."
[align=right][i]INFORMATION
[align=center]
CAREFUL, SON — YOU GOT DREAMER'S PLANS