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

Entry tags:

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

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."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

Dan does pay attention, and so he does notice the way Elle looks at the box, but he can only draw the conclusion that she must have left it for Bunny and thinks it's getting returned as unwanted. He immediately jumps to dissuading her fears.

"Someone left a gift outside our bedroom, and I want to make sure it gets to the right home, since as far as I can tell it's got a card with a message on it. Do you mind giving it a read-over for me? I ain't opened the box or nothing and Bunny ain't due back for another few nights."

He also notices the books around her, but doesn't comment on those.

"I'd be grateful, since I still don't want to broadcast the illiterate thing to just anyone."

Edited 2023-10-14 19:55 (UTC)

Elle looks from the note to the present to Dan. Her cheeks flush as she shoves her face into her hands.

"Shit. Oh my god," her voice is muffled as she makes her best effort to sink in to the ground, or perhaps just manifest sudden invisibility.

She's going to die. She's going to die of embarrassment. She can't believe this is happening.

"I am so sorry, Dan."

No one look at her. She's never speaking to anyone again.

Dan looks crestfallen for a moment, unsure about what he said that’s upset Elle so unexpectedly, but then she apologizes to him and-

“…oh.”

His feelings aren’t hurt. He’s sensitive about his illiteracy, but really only when people push him to try and change it, or assume he’s an idiot and uncultured for not knowing how to read. Elle hasn’t tripped either of those wires, so Dan cracks up, laughing not at her and not at himself, just at how silly the situation is.

“Well, ain’t hardly your fault I ain’t book smart.” Laughing so soon after a smoke break makes him cough, so he catches it in his shoulder, grinning when he’s done. “So, can I open it now or should I wait until I’m alone?”

Elle laughs too, a little hysterically.

"Fuck, I can't believe this," she can't believe she forgot that Dan can't read. Fuck all of her trauma, this is the worst thing that's ever happened to her.

"Come on in, you can open it inside," she steps back into the room and leaves the door open for him.

The inside is still pretty Christmas-y, with fairy lights, snowflakes, and various baubles, but the color scheme is mostly varying shades of pink, gold, and white. She has a brand, okay?

Elle slumps herself onto the edge of the bed, landing on a plush, white throw blanket, and she gestures for Dan to sit in the dusty pink armchair by the fireplace. Her blush hasn't faded, but she's no longer hiding her face.

"Just so you're aware, I'm going to be horribly embarrassed about this for a while," she informs him.

Dan's been very cognizant of Elle's favorite color schemes; he was aware of them beforehand, but now that he's making clothing for people he's trying to ensure that they're items people will enjoy even aside from them being gifts. Dan's coat for Elle is pink with gold trim and some white embroidery, because he doesn't trust the elves running around the workshop not to spill something on white attire.

He follows her inside, ripping at the garish paper and hoping she doesn't mind that he doesn't have enough feeling left in his hands to try and unwrap it in any sort of tidy fashion. He sets down in the armchair.

"Don't be." He opens the package and recognizes the nicotine patches for what they are immediately, and that hits him from an angle he didn't expect. He doesn't want nicotine patches. He'd rather face the cold to smoke than not smoke at all, when smoking's one of his most reliable ways to feel a momentary burst of calm.

"Elle. This is so kind of you." It truly doesn't matter that Dan doesn't want to quit smoking; Elle saw him struggling and saw fit to try and ameliorate that. It's the thought that counts, and Dan is visibly touched and even a little teary-eyed. He doesn't want the tools of smoking cessation, but he feels so cared for that she thought to get them for him.

He pulls the vape out. "What's this?"

The vape pen is sleek and silver with stars etched in the metal. The stars are inlayed with gold. Lying next to it is a small brown leather case with an engravings of a centaur drawing a bow and arrow and below that, Dan's stage name, both embossed with gold as well. When he opens it he'll find slots for his vape, a spare cartridge, and a battery charger. Sitting in the box next to it are a handful of vape juices in a few fruit flavors, mint, and cotton candy.

Elle rubs the back of her neck as she feels her face becoming warm again.

"It's a-- uh, a vape? They're also called e-cigarettes. They're-- I can't say that they're better for you than regular cigarettes, if you try it you should still probably keep your distance from the kids when you can, but you should be okay using it indoors by an open window, or something," she's rambling, isn't she?

"Plus, they come in a bunch of flavors." She remembers Dan's magic flask in the Wilderlands with alcohols that she wouldn't dare to try. It seems like something he's appreciate.

"I just thought-- I mean, I wasn't sure how you'd feel about patches. I know there's a ritual to smoking that they can't replace, so I thought this might be a decent middle ground?"

She doesn't feel great about it, she's done enough research to know that vaping isn't really better than smoking, but it's less likely to set Santa's Workshop ablaze so she'll take it.

Edited 2023-10-14 22:17 (UTC)

Dan examines it all, the workmanship, the mechanics of how it works, the smells of the different juices. Elle was more than thoughtful. The details on this equipment all speak to love and care, the same way the fastidious embroidery and perfect seams on the coat he's making for her are intended to convey an embrace wherever she goes.

"This looks like a miracle." He's a little choked up. If this works like she's hoping it will, Dan's wretched experiences of suffering through the cold may be coming to an end. He takes the mint cartridge and pops it into the vape, figuring mint's close enough to his preferred menthol coolness. "I been starting to get sores on my hands from the cold, and those always take so long to heal, and this...this is perfect."

He doesn't light up here and now, because it's Elle's room and that would be deeply rude of him, but he does tuck the case into the inside pocket of his jacket, under his coat, next to his heart.

"Well, now it's a bit less awkward to spring an early Christmas gift on you, too."

Well, now Elle's getting choked up! She runs a hand through her hair.

"I just... don't like seeing you hurting, especially if you don't have to," because sometimes the hurting is just the reality of their lives.

"I didn't want to put pressure on you to use it if you don't want to, but clearly I ended up getting a little ahead of myself," she laughs a little wetly and gestures at the note. It basically says everything she already did, albeit more eloquently and couched in numerous qualifying statements.

Elle looks at Dan in surprise. If there's anything she was expecting, that wasn't it. She bites back the instinctual response of "you don't have to" because she knows it's not necessary. Dan is well-aware of his responsibilities and if he has something to give her, she will treasure it.

"Pretty sure it's never too early for Christmas in this place," she jokes instead.

“I’ll use them both.” He wants to assure her the nicotine patches weren’t a wasted investment either. He holds one up. “They gave me these back on the Rig. You’re right that it don’t replace the ritual, but it do take the edge off in a pinch.”

He reaches out to give her a hug, and if she accepts, he follows it by leading her toward the workshop. “Alright, bear in mind that depending on some proportions, it may not be done yet. I used myself and some estimated as a rough guideline.”

By now, Dan’s accumulated a few mannequins, and they’re in various states of dress. The one for Elle is obvious by the palette and shape - a padded, double-breasted coat stuffed with down and aiming for the knee length, with a white faux-fur ruff and cuffs to keep her neck and wrists warm. Dan’s been working on it for at least a few days now, alternating between the necessary machine-driven pattern making and his more soothing, meditative needlework.

“I reckon the elves are getting a little sick of me horning in on their space. Here, try it on.”

Elle absolutely takes the hug. She squeezes him as tightly as she dares, trying to convey all the care she feels without saying it out loud. She knows the "saying it out loud" part can scare him, so she won't do. Not right now, at least.

She follows him to the workshop. She's seen him coming and going, but has yet to check his space out for herself. She was busy trying to get the Yetis to help design and build a vape all while hiding it from Dan. They were not easy to convince.

Elle opens her mouth to respond but the words never make it out of her mouth. Instead she inhales sharply and brings her hands to mouth. She's speechless.

After a few moments she manages to say Dan's name, but nothing more as the tears that had been building in her eyes finally spill over. She doesn't give a fuck if it fits yet, it's beautiful.

"I can't-- what the fuck?" she says with wonder. She moves forward and hovers a hand over the fabric, almost afraid to touch it. With her other hand she wipes her eyes. "This is-- this is-- I don't even know what to say. I don't even know where to start.

"Dan... fuck, I can't believe this. It looks so fucking good," the words feel clumsy, but her silver tongue is failing her. She doesn't know how to express her genuine wonder and awe, especially without being too much.

Dan grins until his dimples show at Elle's response, and he pulls her into another hug. "I'm glad you like it."

He is. He's given himself over to the fact that he cares deeply for her, and that means he's compelled to try and protect her in the only way he expects she'll accept without resistance: keeping her warm. He knows warm clothes aren't in short supply here at the Pole, but he'd rather give her a means of not only staying cozy, but also wearing evidence that someone cares about her wellbeing. It's good to have tangible reminders that others are invested in your safety and health when you're someone who so frequently feels a sense of identity by giving and giving from your own resources and energy without trying to take.

He pets her hair and lets her go. "It ain't tailored to you yet, but I reckon I can have it done sooner rather than later. I just...take this as a token of my affection. My gratitude that you're here."

Dan roots through his workspace for a measuring tape. His workspace has a half-drained bottle of peach schnapps, plenty of empty coffee mugs, and evidence that he's been splitting his time between sewing and carving, what with all the woodworking tools mingling with the sewing machine and pins and scissors. He's been very bored whenever Bunny's been gone, feeling cooped up by the Pole, uncharacteristically nervous around the group. He remembers shooting himself in the foot over the mirror network last time this crew (roughly, approximately the same people) was assembled, and he isn't sure if he wants to withdraw and keep to his pre-existing friends or try and build some new bonds. Lately, he's been more withdrawn than extroverted.

Elle squeezes back as strongly as she dares.

"I couldn't be more grateful that you're here, too."

When he lets go she slips off her chunky cream-colored sweater in order to let Dan take more accurate measurements. Now that the initial shock of his incredibly thoughtful gift has passed, Elle has the chance to take in the rest of the workroom.

"Looks like you've been keeping yourself busy," she makes sure her gaze is directed to the other projects and not the remains of alcohol and stimulants.

Dan starts making marks in chalk along the places he intends to hem and trim the coat. He doesn't suspect it'll take him terribly long; he has a good eye for shape and measurement, and he had Elle's form closer to accurate rather than further. He's got his suspicions that that's something else he inherited from his father, who always had a sort of gift with being able to visualize things before they were completed, of being confident with ratios and angles, that served him so well as a carpenter.

Dan takes a lot of pride in it, the same way he takes pride in being a polyglot or memorizing audiobooks of classic poetry. He feels like it's a foothold for his ego. No matter how often he gets dismissed for being illiterate, for having a tar-thick drawl and a dialect with its own arcane grammar, for all his markers of being working class and impoverished, he knows he's smart in ways others struggle to keep up with. He holds onto that.

Elle, though, has never once made him feel inadequate. He's never worried that she looks at him and thinks of him as stupid. He doesn't need to prove himself to her by calling attention to how close he was.

"I'm trying. I'm going completely stir-crazy whenever Bunny don't got me on a case. It's too damn cold outside." Dan sighs. "I don't want to complain too much but not being able to just go run around under the sun is..."

Dan sighs and laughs. "I mean, I told you I was done raised in a bunker half the year, right? This is like all the worst parts of that without none of the benefits. You can't be feeling much less cooped up."

Elle has never even though to think of dan as inadequate. From the moment they met he's been a level-headed, not-so-stable rock for her. The first thing he ever did was try to save her. Then he showed her deep compassion while trying to pull her out of her worst memories. He never faltered, even when she wasn't in her right mind and lashed out at him. He would be hard-pressed to lose her regard after that. Luckily, his actions since then have done nothing but increase it.

Elle holds still as he works and considers his words.

"Hey, you're preaching to the choir. I'm not exactly an indoor cat," she jokes lightly. "Far be it from me to call anything about the situation in the Wilderlands 'nice', but at least it was green, you know?

"Maybe we should do day trips, or something. Some way for us to get out of here, and maybe help the people from really different worlds get used Earth."

Her first instinct was to say 'we should organize field trips' but she figures the implication of that much structure and necessary chaperoning might make Dan break out in hives.

Elle's right. Dan doesn't want anything organized, not here, not at the Wilderlands. He worries that if he tries to organize something, it'll be hijacked or seen as hypocrisy, and if anyone else tries to organize something he'll be browbeaten into going along. Informal, ad hoc, improvisational - those are the terms he wants things done on here.

And so, phrased as it is, he does love Elle's idea. He enjoys being an ambassador or a tour guide. He loves to show people the best parts of the world. He loves drawing their attention to the good things, because he knows well how precious they are and how easy they are to lose sight of.

"I was talking to Miguel a little, and it seemed like his version of New York - Nueva York - was way different than what I know. I been lucky enough that most of the places we been ain't too far off from what I'm familiar with. I know that that's given me a leg up that others don't got."

Dan's aware he's smart and clever, but he's also just been very lucky in terms of what the powers that be have thrown him into. He hasn't needed to adapt to fast technology or languages he can't speak or ecosystems hostile to his own body like some here have.

"Besides, who don't want to see the Grand Canyon?"

"Miguel's one of the Spiders, right?" Elle hasn't gone around and introduced herself to all of the new people yet. She saw everyone at the party, but that was more general observation. It was easier in the Wilderlands-- everyone was spread out in front of her, she could just look in a direction and find someone to talk to. The North Pole is harder, with its hallways and closed doors. It makes things feel more separated.

"Not me, I love looking at big rocks," she says it in a joking tone but that's a genuine statement. "Just not in the middle of the day, it's way too hot and I am far too crepuscular for that."

It's not something Elle advertises, and most of the time she just pushes through, but she does tend to get tired in the middle of the day and night. She's let herself indulge in more midday "cat naps" while they've been cooped up in the North Pole, but she's trying not to make a habit of it.

"Have you been making friends with the new folks? I'll admit, I've kinda dropped the bar on that one so far."

Dan laughs, because he's noticed that about Elle but also because he, too, is somewhat crepuscular. Dan's most active hours are around sundown; given the opportunity, that tends to be when he starts his day.

"I been more introverted than I'd like. It's, you know. It's the weather." It's the limited sunlight. "And I reckon last time left me a little shy. It's mostly the same folks, and I just, I don't know. I never thought I'd might could be insecure in my social skills."

He opens the drawer under the workdesk and pulls some candy out, holding it out to Elle.

"Maybe the two of us ought to have a potluck or something, rehabilitate our reputations as the local extroverts."

"You know you can get pills for that? Fake sunlight, makes you feel like you're getting the real thing. Drugs are truly miracles," Elle specifically doesn't call it medicine because Dan, but casually mentioning drugs that make you feel better in a conversation without making an actual lifestyle suggestion seems safe enough. She doesn't linger on it.

"Yeah, I'm not feeling great about it myself. I've been kinda stuck in my own head about things, which never ends well," she jokes at her own expense, though it's more true than she'd like. "I don't blame you for being a bit hesitant. It was a lot easier when people needed help surviving, but here you have to put yourself out there. Gross."

Elle happily take the candy and pops it in her mouth without hesitation. She happily gives a middle finger to years of etiquette training by talking around it.

"But a potluck is a great idea. We could even make it a semi-regular thing, whenever someone wants to cook a big meal or something," Elle is once again avoiding the urge to make it a more formalized event.

"Even just keeping to yourself, anyone new stand out to you?" she leaves it open as to whether it's in a good way or a bad way. She always values Dan's perspective on things, especially people.

"Fake sunlight? Do the pill capsules glow?" Dan laughs. "I ain't opposed to that. Anything to keep away the winter blues."

It's not so much that Dan's afraid of medical care. He's been locked outside it by a lifelong lack of health insurance and ignorance as to what benefits it can provide. He's become self-reliant by habit.

He gives Elle a concerned look, because if she's anything like him, being stuck in her head is not the best place to be. "You know you might could talk to me if ever you're feeling lonely. I can always use company."

He takes some candy as well. "Mm. Well, Price is here. I'm hoping to keep an eye on him. I met this new guy, Miguel, who might could need some friendship. He seems a little closed off and not in a way where he seems happy with it."

"...You know what, they really should!" Can the elves do that? she's going to ask the elves if they can do that.

"I'm gonna take you up on that. It's not all bad-- I did need the space for a bit. Everyone's great and all, but even I need to recharge sometimes.

"Miguel... I think Stacia's mentioned him. Something about being a secret softie? I'll have to ask for details on that. And let me know if you need backup with Price," the reasons why he would go unspoken.

Her face becomes more serious as she takes a moment to gather her words. "There is one kid I want to keep an eye on. I haven't met him personally, but there's been some stuff he's said on the network that's been pretty concerning. He's spends a most of his time with Miguel, but you might've seen him around."

Elle is a chronic lurker on the public network. If it's there, she'll read it. If people want to keep their business to themselves they should make a private channel.

"His name's Boba, and I think he's the youngest person we've got so far. Can't be older than thirteen or fourteen. When Branch was trying to leave, apparently the kid asked to go with him. Something about not feeling safe? He's said some... pretty alarming stuff about where he comes from. It sounds like he was a bad situation.

"Aside from a chip on his shoulder, from what I've seen he's got some issues with authority figures. As the least authoritative person I know, I figure you might have a decent shot," she says the last bit with a crooked smile. She definitely means it as a compliment.

"I can relate." Dan sometimes mistakes his tendency to withdraw when depressed or overwhelmed as introversion. "And I'll let you know if I need a second set of eyes on Price. I reckon he's alright for now. I'm getting him to bond with the horse."

Dan hopes Concrete Blonde is safe with Price; Price seems fond of her, and his typical brand of manipulation is less likely to take hold with an animal, Dan hopes.

He eats some candy and nods.

"I ain't met him yet, but I'll keep my eye out. Branch brought him up to me but I didn't know who he was yet. You know where I might could find him?" He smiles back at her. "I don't know what I'd do with authority if it introduced itself and sat in my lap."

"This place has reindeer, right? Maybe he can help with tending to them too."

As long as Price doesn't become too possessive, it should be okay. More animals might keep him from focusing just on Concrete Blonde.

"I'm not sure, I'd ask Miguel. He seems to be keeping an eye on the kid."

(NOTE: I made a mistake! Boba has only introduced himself as "Lucky" so far. Elle wouldn't know his real name and would refer to him as Lucky in my previous reply.)

"That's a great idea." Dan follows what Elle's putting down, and he agrees. He thinks it'd be good for Price generally to focus less on individuals and feeling possessive of them and existing more within a community. Then again, when Price had agents, he had at least a handful and his sense of entitlement to them was catastrophic.

He pops some leftover candy into the drawer and pulls out the vape for a celebratory debut indoor puff. He still opens the window so he can exhale out of it, and a cold breeze gets in, but it's absolutely preferable to going out in the snow. The first hit of mint and nicotine feels like a drink of cool water in the desert, a warm hug in the cold, a break to stop and breathe in the middle of a marathon.

"I was right. You were right. This is perfect," he says after exhaling out the window, eyes lidded with relaxation.

Elle smiles fondly. Anything that can be done to alleviate Dan's discomfort and pain is a win in her book.

"I'm glad."

She gives him a moment of peace before grabbing onto a passing thought.

"I know there's a gym, but do you think there's a dance studio around here?" she muses aloud. There's so much free time between missions and she needs something to fill it. Dusting off old skills seems as good of a time-sink as any.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject