Everything It Seems I Like's a Little Bit Harmful for Me [Open to All]

[hallelujahjunction]

Who: Dan Sagittarius and you!
What: Dan tools around in the workshop and tests the limits of North's homeowner safety compliance, makes some presents for people, acts helpful.
Where: The Workshop and outdoors near the kitchen.
When: Early October
Warnings/Notes: The usual warnings associated with Dan - alcoholism, drug use, swearing, potential references to dead children, sex work and/or firearms. Lots of nicotine addiction in this one.

Dan hates the cold.

He fucking hates the cold, because his circulation has gone to shit and sucking down cigarettes all his life has left him with a permanent sensitivity to chill along with an inconvenient and unpleasant nicotine addiction, and that combination, here at the North Pole, means he has to run a regular gauntlet throughout the day to go on smoke breaks outdoors. Instead of just popping outside to take a leisurely break from whatever he's doing, he suits up with gloves and coats and hats like he's putting on armor for battle and then houses each cigarette in record time, shivering and wincing the entire time.

When he isn't on smoke breaks and isn't running around with Bunny on missions, he's recuperating from whatever adventure he's been on by working with the elves in the workshop. Dan's father was a carpenter, a tailor and a woodworker who expressed his affection in showering his wife and seven children with gifts and attention. Dan inherited that, and he fills his idle hours with woodworking and sewing, making Christmas gifts for the people at the Pole who've been pulled into this adventure, mostly practical things like warm socks and step stools, but sometimes just tchotchkes like carved effigies. He's excited that North apparently had a bevy of goose down, and is starting to piece together cozy coats for people, and he's been building various hurdles and tunnels for Cammie to test her holon on.

Throughout the day he tries to think of a way to not be colossally rude while smoking indoors. It's poor form to light up under someone's roof and make everything reek of tobacco, and it feels all the more inconsiderate to do so in the Pole, where the merriment is unilaterally pretty child-friendly in a way cigarettes are not, and even more rude to do so while the homeowner is in captivity. Still, after a particularly frozen smoke break where he returned to warmth with his hands so near-paralyzed and bone-white that it took over an hour to get back to doing his woodwork, he decides that North would be understanding, and decides to undo the smoke detector in the kitchen. After all, the kitchen is ventilated, and smoking in here just during the coldest part of the night isn't too harmful.


I. These Are Just a Couple of My Cravings

Most things in the world are made for adult men slightly taller than Dan, but most things at the Pole are made for North and the yetis, and that means Dan can't just accomplish his goals by standing on tip toes. On account of the elves constantly getting into things they shouldn't and causing accidents, the kitchen is equipped with a smoke detector, which is about eleven feet off the ground. Standing on the highest shelf of a ladder, Dan can just barely scrape the corner of it with his fingertips. His only hope of reaching it is to jump, which may be unwise, but the siren song of nicotine has been known to wreck many a man on its rocks.

"Hey, do you mind holding this ladder while I try to reach this?" he asks the next person to come in.


II. A Little Bit Sweeter

By a few days in, Dan's got a straight-up workspace in the workshop, a table festooned with the tools of his crafts. Right now, it's covered in fabric and threads and scissors and rulers and a mannequin and all the deadwood of tailoring and mending as he works on a big, puffy coat to swaddle Elle in. He's at a frustration point, because at some juncture he fucked up the circumference of the sleeves, and he's realizing that his error might be so serious as to necessitate scrapping the coat entirely. He's chewing his nails in annoyance at himself when someone comes in, and he pounces on the opportunity to distract himself with some new task.

"Hey, you need anything mended? The tailor's open for business right now."


III. So Please Be Kind If I'm a Mess

The second Dan's cigarette is burned down, he rushes back into the communal relaxation room, teeth chattering and hands tucked into his armpits. Snowflakes dot his hair, and his cheeks are flush red. He strips off his gloves, and his fingers are a mix of angry red and bloodless white. He hastens over to the fireplace and groans as the transition from too-cold to too-hot makes his hands cramp, then reaches for the rice pack he set over the fire to warm up without having to hunch over the flames.

"Oh God damn it," Dan mutters, as his clumsy-with-cold hands fumble the rice pack and drop it straight into the fire. He huffs with frustration as he gets the fire poker and tries to retrieve the rice pack, but by now the pack is decidedly on fire, looking like a burning baked potato. "I owe North some rice."

Comments

i

[hobospider]

Peter's on his way in to grab a snack. He's got about an hour to himself while May's down for a map.

"Need to replace the battery? Toss it here. I can climb up there and handle it."

[hallelujahjunction]

“Nah, I’m disabling it.”

Dan figures he could lie, and he’s a very convincing liar, but he’s trying to start things off better here than he did in the Wilderlands. It’s only the last few years that Dan’s gotten used to having longterm relationships with groups of people; it used to be that he never got caught in his lies, because by the time they became apparent he was long gone from the picture.

He wobbles on the top step of the ladder, still straining to reach. “Temporarily. Just for fifteen minutes or so, because if I go outside right now my hands will probably fall off. I’d love a helping hand.”

[hobospider]

"Absolutely not. Get down from there before you break your neck."

Most people, since arriving, have only really seen a fairly chill and goofy Peter.

Now he's mad. Jot yelling, not about to try and take Dan's head off but still pretty pissed.

"Do you have any idea how many people I've had to pull out of burning buildings because the smoke detectors didn't work? I don't, because I lost count over a decade ago."

[hallelujahjunction]

"I ain't going to permanently disable it, just pop the battery out long enough to have a cigarette. I'm capable of smoking in a kitchen for fifteen minutes without burning the whole place down."

Dan meets Peter's irritation with a sort of muted resignation, mostly just upset at the prospect of going back out into the cold to get his fix. There's no point in getting into a pissing contest about who's pulled more burning babies from buildings. Dan knows Peter doesn't know anything about him and can't know the decades Dan's poured into saving lives.

He sits on the top step of the ladder and holds out his hands to Peter. He has some small sores, in addition to the usual constellation of scars from gunpowder back fire and chewing his knuckles in times of stress. "Peter, right? And my body tolerates cold about as well as it tolerates nicotine withdrawal."

A Little Bit Sweeter

[branchifer]

[Branch was curious about the scissors and fabric. He would've wondered if he was scrapbooking if not for the mannequin.]

[(Do humans scrapbook as much as his people?)]

[Branch almost reflexively says no, because he's still used to handling a lot of things himself. Back home he spins his own wool, weaves, sews. Even now that he's back contact with the village. He still values being largely self-sufficient.]

[But he's not really in a position to say no here. He's needed new clothes, warmer than the ones he came in and at best he'd had ill fitting ones, or had to cut little dolls sweaters into cardigans with unhemmed plackets.]

[And he hasn't forgotten that day Dan and Stacia talked him down. It feels safe to ask favors of him.]

Do you think you could hem some things? Maybe do some buttons and button holes? I know how to sew and knit and weave and all that, but I don't have tools my size to work with.

[hallelujahjunction]

[Dan grins, scooching at his workbench to leave a space for Branch to get on the table with enough space to have a wide personal bubble and an easy route to get off the table or hide behind the mannequin if he gets spooked. Just because Branch trusts him enough to ask for a small favor doesn’t mean that he trusts Dan not to hurt him, and Dan wants to be conscientious of leaving escape paths open and avoiding sudden movements.]

I can, indeed, do hems, buttons and buttonholes. [Dan pulls his tailoring glasses out of his pocket; on most people they’d be reading glasses, but Dan’s wasted on that, and so he really just uses them for detail work. Branch is small enough that just about anything is detail work.]

Show me what you want taken care of. But more importantly, which tools, exactly, are you in need of? Because we can try and make that happen too.

[Secretly, Dan would love a little stitch-and-bitch club to start up.]

[branchifer]

Let me go get them.

[Branch runs off, swinging by his hair from the rungs of chairs and hooks on work tables. When he eventually swings back, he has several sweaters that have been made into cardigans by cutting openings in the front. The cuts are even but they're unhemmed, and don't have any zippers or buttons to fasten them closed.]

[He swings up to the work table and piles them there.]

I found some stuff that has the right proportions but I can't fit my big head through any of the neck holes so I need them to have buttons on the front. Tiny buttons, it's not easy for me to work really big human ones.

[He may need some buttons taken from other doll clothes.]

[As Dan predicted, he keeps his distance slightly, taking refuge in the open space provided.]

And for tools, just about everything? Needles, pins, seam rippers, sewing scissors, thimbles that aren't the size of a drinking cup. I know a spinning wheel is probably asking for too much, but if they can manage that so I can spin yarn, knitting and crocheting needles, too.

If they want to get real ambitious, they can also build a loom.

[That implies a lot of knowledge of fabric-craft.]

III its raining spiders in here

[ninjavampire]

The peaceful quiet of the Relaxation Room made it one of Miguel's favorite haunts. But even here, he wore his usual combo of nanosuit and sweater that somewhat accomodated his proportions.

So he enters, carrying a cup of his own comfort habit (the espresso in the building is surprisingly decent) and watches the unfolding scene stone-faced. There it is. A bag of rice mid-immolation. Another day, another incident of minor Pole Chaos.

Setting the mug on an end table, he lassoes the bag with a tether of laser web and tugs it out onto the stone hearth, careful to avoid getting cinders on wood.

"Let's not owe him a workshop, too."

[hallelujahjunction]

"Thank you." Dan wasn't expecting someone to swoop in and rescue his hot pack, and he's delighted to see that the burning rice hasn't strewn everywhere. The rice bag may actually end up salvageable after all.

He crouches over the hearth, holding his hands between the fire and the rice bag, which might cool down enough to be used for its original intended purpose. He glances over at Miguel, smiling through occasional winces as the blood rushes back to his fingers. "Hi, I'm Dan. I'd offer to shake hands but mine are still about to fall off."

He gestures with his chin at the mug on the table. "You a coffee-drinker too?"

[ninjavampire]

"It's a decent enough work partner."

Now that the immediate crisis was out of the way, he gets a proper read on this stranger, the odd reds of his eyes occasionally catching firelight. All the clues hinted clearly enough that Dan had been outside for a smoke break and was having a rough time of it. Even as a less approachable type, Miguel still had that caretaker streak in him.

"There's a kettle around here for the fireplaces. What do you think of tea?"

Tea, not coffee, because Dan's voice sounded rough and Miguel assumes the cold was part of it. He didn't know yet that it's what he always sounded like.

I. These Are Just a Couple of My Cravings

[greyerrant]

"Always willing to help. I guess something is broken, and the elves don't seem to have any tech-adepts."

Loken takes hold of the ladder without further comment, nearly able to just touch the smoke detector without any need for a ladder by himself.

[hallelujahjunction]

Dan's about to make an ill-advised leap for the smoke detector when he realizes just how close Loken is to reaching it by himself. He starts laughing. Dan's laugh always sounds a little bit like a garbage disposal caught on a jar lid.

"You want to just get this for me and save me the broken neck?"

[greyerrant]

"If you would prefer." He pauses, looking quizzically at Dan. "What exactly do you want done up there?"

II. A little bit sweeter

[poor_unlucky_girl]

"Oh, hello!"

Jennifer greets Dan with that usual happy go lucky air she has to her. That mostly fake cluelessness (the part that is real is VERY real, though) makes her very endearing, but she came prepared, she has something in her hands.

"The Elves mentioned that you were here sewing and it just reminded me..." she unfolds a sweater "I made you this! You hate the cold, don't you? And I figured I could make something for you."

She tries to align it with the visual she has of Dan, to see if it would fit him well.

"I should have got your size right, but let me know. Oh, and do you mind dog hairs? I made sure to check for Brown's and keep it clean, but you never know."

Jennifer gives Dan a warm smile. As distracted as she might be she is very observant. She sees, she understands, and she knows way more than she lets on. She does however believes in keeping a respectful distance, knows how not to be nosy, and so she won't insist on making Dan voice his frustration, but she did already give a look at the coat he was making.

[hallelujahjunction]

"Jennifer!"

Dan scoots aside on his workbench so she has a place to sit. He's fond of her. He worries for her, because there's a certain naivete that she's maintained in spite of some obvious neglect and trauma, and he's concerned about her stumbling back into a situation to be exploited, but he admires that she's managed to hold onto something innocent and open.

"That's so kind of you. You're right. I don't tolerate cold well at all." He holds his hand out to her, so she can see that he's got some bandages around his fingers. "What's your sizing? You were on my list of folks to make some warm clothing for."

He pulls the sweater on, ignoring the dog hair. "This is so cozy."

[poor_unlucky_girl]

"Glad you like it."

Holding onto the little things has made her feel pathetic in the past, talking to the Bucket Knight when everyone around her would be so mean, everything felt a bit like a mockery, didn't it? What a poor, unlucky girl. But eventually, she needs the good to outweigh the bad, it has to. Nevermind that she almost drowned in the Swamp Of Sadness and no one realized, she really believes in the little glimpses of happiness that she sees.

"Hmm...Let me think about it. I'm not sure, I keep growing in height."

Not in weight, though, despite eating so many sweets that it's concerning.

"Thank you, it's a very nice thought. Who else are you making clothes for? I could help you out."

These Are Just a Couple of My Cravings

[credit_not_blame]

"Not while I can be eight feet tall whenever I want I won't," Stacia says, her hands on her hips. "Get down from there before you fall, and I'll take care of it."

Don't make her have to speed-shift to Crinos to catch you when you fall, Dan. Neither of you wants her to lecture you on personal safety. She moves from the doorway to brace the ladder while he climbs down.

"What do you need done to the smoke alarm?"

[hallelujahjunction]

"You're an angel," Dan says, coming back down from the ladder and jumping slightly off the last step to wrap Stacia in a gentle, pouncing hug.

He figures he's still safe to climb a ladder, if not jump off the top step, but it's late enough at night that he's got more alcohol in his system than usual - "bottoms up" usually starts around ten p.m. and stretches to whenever he conks out in the mid-morning, when Bunny's not around to make the bed warm and comforting and safe - and he'd rather not break his neck in front of Stacia. That just seems like a trauma that would be unfair to recklessly visit on her.

"I'm trying to turn it off for fifteen minutes so I can smoke without going outside." He holds out his hands to her, as if to remind her how poorly he tolerates the cold. "How've you been? I been running around with Bunny so much I ain't checked in."

[credit_not_blame]

"Yeah well, Raphael was in my head long enough, I'm sure I picked up a few things," Stacia says dryly, hugging him back. She nods along to his explanation. "That makes sense. It's fu--" Nope! "--It's cold enough out there that dropping an F-bomb is the only way to indicate how cold it is, and I can't bring myself to do that here." Can't swear in Santa's workshop. Too weird. Even if Santa has forearm tattoos.

She tries to gauge whether the ladder will hold her weight in Crinos. Fortunately, most things here that aren't built for the elves are built for the big man or the yeti, and they're not too far off from that. She shifts and climbs the ladder, delicately manipulating the alarm with the tips of her claws until it makes a bleep noise that she assumes means that it's turned off.

She'll get back to the how-she-is question once her mouth is more capable of human speech.

IIII. A Lesson In Tightropes

[millenyal_pink]

Elle's seen Dan struggling with his smoking, whether it's with the cold of the outdoors or dismantling the fire alarm. She hasn't said anything to him about it, but she has been thinking.

This thinking has culminated in a shoe-box sized present covered in eye-searing wrapping paper with a card on top, left in front of Dan's door.

Elle doesn't want to be confrontational, or put pressure on him, so she figures the explanation in the note is a good way to let him process and make decisions in his own time. She feels rather pleased with herself.

[hallelujahjunction]

"Hey, Elle, can I ask a favor?"

It's Dan's 'morning', i.e. two o'clock in the afternoon, which means that he got to roll out of bed and bundle up and take his wake-up cigarette in only the devastating afternoon cold instead of the violent night-time cold, at the expense of having to wear sunglasses to prevent snowblindness. He's still warming up in his multiple layers and with hat-hair when he finds her, tip of his nose red from being outside and gloved hands in a sort of locked grip over the wrapped box.

He didn't expect to find a gift at the front of his and Bunny's bedroom door. He and Bunny don't even fully live here, splitting time with the Warren, and Dan only sleeps here when Bunny's on a mission that will take a few days. Dan's been slow to meet the new people compared to last time, and he wouldn't be surprised if whomever left the gift was either a worker at the Pole misplacing a wrapped toy for a child or was someone intending to gift someone else and just getting the wrong room. It could also be for Bunny.

Dan has no way of knowing, because the lines and circles and squiggles on the card are inscrutable to him. He knows intellectually that it's writing, but whatever meaning it contains is totally locked away to him; he just knows that it's probably not for him, since he doesn't think anyone who knows him enough to gift him would leave him something inaccessible. Bunny's not back for a few days, so Dan seeks out one of the few people who's already looped in about his illiteracy, and he finds someone he wanted to run into anyway.

"Oh, and I got something I need you for." Dan needs to check Elle's height compared to the coat he'd made her; he's been using himself as a rough approximation, but she's a bit taller than him and her torso may not be the same proportion as his.

[millenyal_pink]

Elle is in her room, staring down the books that hold the story of her life. She's been trying to put off reading them, which is an act of restraint that has lasted impressively long. She knows it won't be pleasant; in fact, it will probably do a fair amount of damage to her psyche. But she has to know.

To say that an interruption is more than welcome is a vast understatement.

Elle is always happy to see Dan. She smiles at his getup (he looks a tad ridiculous). He expression flickers just the littlest bit when she sees that he's carrying the box, but it's so quick that it would be barely noticeable to someone not paying attention.

"Of course! What's up?"

There's a little mental preparation for rejection going on in her head.

III /wanders in late

[zerg_rush]

"What smells in here—" Kerrigan, head poking around the door frame, cuts herself off as she sees Dan displaying what she thinks is an unusual amount of stress for someone just poking up the fire. "Uh. You need a hand with anything?"

[hallelujahjunction]

"Only if that hand ain't gonna get burned," Dan says, dropping the fire poker and stepping back from the scene, tucking his hands under his arms and against his sides to try and keep them warm but not warming so quickly as to hurt worse than they already do. The rice pack is fully ablaze at this point, and the pieces of rice make strange little popping sounds as they fling themselves away from the fabric.

He looks at Kerrigan with a weary smile. "I'm having shit luck with fine motor control today."

[zerg_rush]

"Yeah, uh, I think it's a loss," Kerrigan says, picking up the discarded poker to scrape the flaming rice bag out of the fire and onto the hearthstones, "whatever it is. Pretty sure that's not how you cook rice."

She's open to being corrected on that one, honestly. Maybe you can roast rice?