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[theydrewfirstblood]

{phone calls/notes/misc for John Rambo here!}

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misc. action

[graveling]

Look, at some point Rambo's on the farm, and there's an unfamiliar face trying to get Bobbin down off the roof of the greenhouse. How did she get up there? It doesn't matter, she's not allowed to just rest on the top of the greenhouse, and is that someone's missing diary and a collection of handkerchiefs that she's dragged up there?

Care to help?

[theydrewfirstblood]

“Bobs, what the hell you doin’?”

The quiet laugh comes from a couple feet behind the man, where one John Rambo is standing with his arms folded and his face tipped up to regard the rogue chicken with a grin.

”buk…buk-buk…”

“Likely story. Get your butt down here. C’mon.”

Bobbin struts over, grabs one of her pilfered handkerchiefs, then comes to the edge of the roof to fling herself down with a chaotic beating of wings. John meets her halfway to catch her, gently taking the handkerchief from her beak.

“This for me? Flirt.” Looking over at the man, he offers him the handkerchief as Bobbin cheerfully snuggles up to his chest.

“We’ve met, me ‘n her. I can climb up to get the stuff if you want?”

also misc action

[maltesefalcon]

John's out on the town when suddenly there's a shadow overhead. No, not a military aircraft, not even a helicopter...that's a whole ass bird-man, about to land on the roof of the building John just walked out of. What the fuck?

[theydrewfirstblood]

For a second, his heart starts beating faster—it really does feel like an aircraft, that heavy dark shadow passing over him as he walks out of the Oak and Iron.

It’s a little easier, though, to remember himself. Maybe it’s the fact he’s eating better thanks to Freeman, who he’s still trying to track down discreetly, or maybe he’s just…feeling better. He’s visiting Hawkeye and River semi-regularly, goes up to the farm once in a while to visit Eddie, Angel, and Bobbin, he’s more proactive about looking for work as his confidence sort of grows…

But the shadow passes over him, he stops, afraid, and manages to breathe through it before turning to follow the shadow back to the building.

Where a man-shaped bird is on the roof.

“…hi.”

Hey, if he’s gonna hallucinate, might as well be polite.

note

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Well... more like a package of sorts. There's a large basket, covered with a red gingham-check cloth, sitting in front of John's door at the Oak and Iron. It contains a few covered containers with food inside -- an omelette, slices of toast (stacked with the buttered sides in), a bowl full of roasted squash and potatoes, and two fresh oranges. There is also a letter that reads:

Doc Chris Freeman from the clinic said to send your meals up to your room. Please let us know if you have any special requests, otherwise we are going to follow the nutrition plan they gave us. Regards, the Kitchen Staff

[phone call]

[thelatechrisfreeman]

Ring ring!

"Hey, John," Chris greets pleasantly, when John picks up the phone, "Who's your Pope?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

…well. That is…definitely a question that John has now been asked.

Blinking a little, John tries to think about—well, how to answer that.

“Uhhhh…well, when I was growing up, it was Pius XII. When I left my world, John Paul II. Unless you’re asking…I dunno, who’d win in a fight?…”

KNOCK KNOCK

[300kgbackpack]

More like BANG BANG, coming from John's front door, low to the ground thanks to the source of the noise being one of Sam's fine, sturdy boots being used in place of knuckles to knock like a normal person would.

[theydrewfirstblood]

The noise startles John, so he glances at the table by his front door to make sure his knife is there before he opens it…

And freezes when he sees who’s on the other side.

Despite the fact that his eyes go wide and the color drains from his face, he can’t stop the way his chest squeezes painfully with longing, or the place deep in his bones that hurts all the time that is soothed by the sight of his face.

“Sam…”

Knock Knock!

[gruesomegourmand]

Working at the Oak & Iron's kitchen, Laios is now privvy to a lot more of the inner-workings of the town than he'd ever expected to be.

People come and go together in pairs, come back separately, come back with others, try new things, visit for the first time--- it all happens in a whirlwind, and while the business can overwhelm, it can also be absolutely delightful. There's little Laios hasn't been willing to help with, as well - this lad would kill it, working at a burger joint, and probably stay enthusiastic for years upon years doing so.

The remark about the former soldier the bar staff used to take food up to is offhanded, and not a favor he's asked of - but when he digs for a few more details, it's one he takes up nonetheless.

And thus, here he is, waiting patiently with a basket of neatly-packaged food in tow. As soon as the door opens, he brightens.

"Hello! I hope I don't have the wrong house. Is this... the Rambo residence?"

With the tentative excitement in his voice, it's clear that he definitely focused well on the directions, and doesn't believe he's actually wrong at all. But all for properness' sake, right?

[theydrewfirstblood]

John doesn’t have much, but he has enough that he has a few boxes to pack now that the property is ready for him to take possession. He’s not moving out to the ranch for a few more days, but he’s gearing up.

So when the knock comes at the door, he catches a scent before he opens it—one that reminds him he’s been spending the last three hours packing up his collection of pelts and bones from hunting and hasn’t had dinner yet.

The smell comes from the basket in the hands of the young man at his door. There’s something about the way he asks…he reminds John of green recruits just hitting basic training. Too ready, too eager, too prepared—thankfully, the kid isn’t being grating about it.

In fact, as John raises an eyebrow, he can’t quite control the little smile that touches his lips as he folds his arms with a curious tilt of his head.

“For another three or four days, yeah—who’s askin’?”

A Figment

[blindwatchersees]

Something is frightening the chickens. They won't go in to roost, and they're acting like a wild animal is in there.

Re: A Figment

[theydrewfirstblood]

"Co! Sam! What the fuck--c'mon, Coco, I know you like to sleep inside but you gotta eat with Sammy or he gets lonesome. You too, Sammy, get in--what's goin' on, guys?"

John stoops to scoop up a distressed Co, letting Sam dash around behind him--where he emphatically stays as he cradles Co against his chest for a moment, then sets her down to go join Sam and moves towards the coop to try and check on what's inside.

A short note on thick card paper

[300kgbackpack]

It's stuck into the top of John's mailbox, protruding specifically so that he'll see it first before anything else.

Don't know where you got it in your head I didn't ever want to see you again
but Lou is real sad her favorite buddy has gone missing.
You told me you'd watch her any time.
This aint the time to break promises, John Rambo.

[theydrewfirstblood]

[…is he serious?…

It takes him a while to break up Sam and Co from another of Co’s tantrums with the young rooster trying to preen her ruffled feathers, but he finally gets Co settled in her satchel. After that he grabs some snacks for Co, locks up, and heads over to the cabin.

After all, if he didn’t mean now he’d have said so.

He saddles up Danforth in the interest of expediency, guiding him through the forest until he reaches the cabin.

Walking up his horse, John dismounts, then guides him closer as he calls out.]

Y’know that’s kinda what ‘I don’t wanna be friends anymore’ means, right? Woulda been here sooner otherwise!

A Visit to Baker Ranch

[apocryphalarchivist]

Having been a few weeks out of his statement-taking binge, and with his investigation of the tapes well under way, it seems well worth taking the time to try to be a social creature again. What better way to start than with the ranch of a newer friend, just down the road? It was certainly better than sitting around his house, dealing with difficult emotions from just the day prior.

As a token of good will, he's even brought some of the medicinal herbs he's tried to tend in his garden. They're small--- clearly the work of an amateur--- but hopefully they'll be of some use to someone with more experience in this line of living.

Once he arrives at the door (after having been sufficiently distracted by one of the horses), he knocks, a bit loudly, and calls. He knows John likely spends a lot of his time outside, so at least if he projects his voice somewhere not directly at the door, he has a better chance of catching him if he's around the house, and not scaring the shit out of him if he's just in the other room.

"John? Are you in? It's, um--- it's Jon Sims! Thought I'd stop by to say hello."

[theydrewfirstblood]

Today, John is actually about to head inside when he hears John call out as he opens the back door. Jogging through, he opens the front door with a basket of greens in hand and a smile on his face.

“Sims! Hey, good to see you.” He greets him warmly, offering a handshake before ushering him inside. “C’mon in—you’re just in time for lunch, so to speak. Found some good stuff growing near my forest plot, gonna make a few things to check the quality. Can I get you a drink?”

Sending stone, a few days before the post-Blight veterans' social

[configuration_birdwatcher]

Conventional phone calls are nearly useless to Bastion, whose spoken language is mostly radio-frequency data transmissions; the microphone only picks up their accompanying audio cues. That's not an effective way to communicate anything significantly more specific than 'yes', 'no', or 'I don't know'. The sending stone works better, passing along the magical effect that translates those data transmissions into telepathic words. They'd played a few rounds of cards with John Rambo at their last veterans' gathering, which is enough for the call to connect.

// Hello, Bastion calling. Will Felix Gaeta be at the veterans' social? Pause. // The human who fled the building last time I attended.

[theydrewfirstblood]

[Bastion--it takes a second, but John remembers the mechanical member of their game...and Gaeta's departure that had him trying to run a few hands when Ari went after him.

Knowing what he does now...that makes way more sense.]

Hey, Bas. I, uh...I don't actually know. I've just got the notice up, but I haven't invited anyone personally from the usual group. Just a few folks who've never been.

Do, uh--I don't wanna make any presumptions, but do you want or need me to talk to him about it?

Coming by to drop off Serranai's gift

[thaumatophage]

Now that Kitty's gotten the present she'd left for Serranai back - and cried over it a little - she hustles to Baker Ranch, the stone tucked into her satchel.

"Hey, Mr. Rambo!" she calls to him when he's in earshot, waving.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John is leading Helga back towards the stable when he hears the call go up--and the tiny, distant sound of jingling that's ignited a nearly Pavlovian response in the form of a smile that rises to his face the second he hears it.

Spotting her when he looks over his shoulder, he waves back, waiting for her to get close enough for him to talk.

"Mr. Rambo's my father, you can drop the 'Mr.' if you don't wanna call me John." he snickers, lifting an arm for her to come and give him a hug. "What's new, Kitty Cat?"

Calloway's -- jade pendant

[xiaoxiuya]

With so many new items in Calloway's shop, it's only natural that it would be packed with interested browsers. Even Shen Qingqiu is not immune, and if he can't quite bring himself to forget the distinctly 'unholy' provenance of these items, that doesn't actually stop him from snatching up an honest to god guqin as soon as he sees it. It's missing its strings, poor thing, but that's easily remedied.

It's as he walks past a makeshift jewelry counter that a flash of green catches his eye, and he locks up as firmly as a watch with sand in the gears. It's a Buddha pendant, not a Guanyin, but somehow, when he looks at it...

His breath hitches before he can prevent it, and he hastily rubs at his eyes with the edge of his sleeve, trying to blot out the tears before they can fall.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John's browsing--God knows why, after he picked up the box he's still thinking about trying to open without making a mess. Still, there's cool stuff in this place, and some of it is just...wild.

He's heading for the counter when he sees the young man there, looking like he's trying to dash away tears. Frowning with mild concern, he steps up alongside him to lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, you okay, man? I was--"

Then he catches the light dancing off that green carved surface...

What's this?

It bring me good luck...what bring you good luck?

John's face goes pale, his dark eyes flat and dead in a way that speaks to pain and anger as he stares at the pendant, frozen in time.

On that boat, in that quiet--thinking it was a moment of peace. Maybe a reward for choosing to do his duty again, atone for the mistakes he made.

A moment of Heaven before he got sent back into hell--and dragged an innocent woman along with him...

Stone Call

[lahire]

"Mister Rambo?" A hesitation, the voice coming again more quietly. "John. Do you know how to ice skate?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

“Jack—hi!”

The smile is audible in John’s voice—and so is the little frown in a beat of hesitation.

“Actually, I don’t…but I always wanted to try it, and I think I know someone who does.”

The smile becomes audible again.

“Would you like to learn together?”

In Person, Februrary

[misbegottendreamer]

Drelasa Veloth has been wandering along the farm roads quite a bit as of late. She seems somber, the usual spring in her step absent, and when she sings, it's muffled and muted. She almost seems a little lost, in body and in thought, and she doesn't seem to notice that she's straying close to the horse pasture, until one of them snorts and whinnies, and she falls over in surprise.

[theydrewfirstblood]

There's a beat and the slow, methodical plod of hooves drifting closer, and finally a soft, but large nose touching the top of Drelasa's head with another snort of air. That's all it is, though: sniffing, snuffling, and touching a big warm horse nose to her head, her shoulder, any nearby appendages.

Strange human, you fell down! Are you hurt? Are you lost? Do you need someone to take care of you?

"Helga! Whatcha--whups! Dre?"

John Rambo's voice is distant, but grows rapidly closer before his hands settle on her shoulders with a warm, comforting squeeze.

"Sorry, doll--you're all right, Helga was gentle as a lamb before she got pregnant. Now, she wants to mother everyone with a foal on the way."

Another snort, followed by a very pointed nudge of Helga's nose against Drelasa's shoulder, not rough but firm.

Shut up, Dad. This is Helga's new baby, be nice to her.

John just laughs, sliding his hand into Drelasa's.

"Here, lemme help you up..."