Mark Watney (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
markwatney) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-10-19 06:07 pm
markwatney) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-10-19 06:07 pm
The birds have flown their summer skies to the south;
WHO: Mark Watney
WHERE: 6I Inn
WHEN: 19 Oct 2017
OPEN TO:ALL Closed to new threads
I think most people have an unspoken list of things they intend to do when they have the time and inclination. Mine I usually actually write down, even in a place like this where paper and writing implements are scarce — Days with much downtime don't happen often, and my list is embarrassingly long. It helps to have a note so I can look everything over and figure out what's most pressing. I managed to get off of Mars this way, so I figure it's not a bad system.
Today, though, my choice was made for me. I woke up to two things: A box with my name on it, and a sky full of snow. Fortunately, all of the harvesting had been done on the less cold-hardy plants already, and unless this cold snap dragged on into something long-term, it would be good for what we picked later in the season. Sweetens the berries.
I've got plenty of ways I could fill a free day, but the snow and that mystery box left little question what needed to be top of the list: Taking a census before winter fully moved in. As far as I could tell, while various people in various places took notes about events and connections, we'd never had one central, definitive list of everyone in the community, where they were living and how long they'd been around. With a second village in the mix now, this information was more important than ever. A proper census would give us the tools to start to prepare for winter in earnest — Not just in predicting how much food and firewood would be needed, but what roads needed to be cleared, medical preparations and more.
The box I mentioned before, it helped with this. It was full of items that were a huge help in getting organized: Pencils, binders, blessed paper. And chalk. There was only one place to use that.
After carefully copying the information that had been collected on the blackboard at the Inn, I wash down both sides and jump right in: At the top of the outfacing side, I make three headings:
Name - Residence - Apx. Arrival
Beneath this, I start with my own info:
M. Watney - W. outskirts, blue - 1yr, 4 mo
"Why haven't we named the damn streets yet?" I mutter, and then began writing in what information I know on the rest of the villagers, leaving blank spaces for others to fill in next time they're at the Inn. But seriously, though, one more thing added to my to-do list: Street names and house numbers.
WHERE: 6I Inn
WHEN: 19 Oct 2017
OPEN TO:
I think most people have an unspoken list of things they intend to do when they have the time and inclination. Mine I usually actually write down, even in a place like this where paper and writing implements are scarce — Days with much downtime don't happen often, and my list is embarrassingly long. It helps to have a note so I can look everything over and figure out what's most pressing. I managed to get off of Mars this way, so I figure it's not a bad system.
Today, though, my choice was made for me. I woke up to two things: A box with my name on it, and a sky full of snow. Fortunately, all of the harvesting had been done on the less cold-hardy plants already, and unless this cold snap dragged on into something long-term, it would be good for what we picked later in the season. Sweetens the berries.
I've got plenty of ways I could fill a free day, but the snow and that mystery box left little question what needed to be top of the list: Taking a census before winter fully moved in. As far as I could tell, while various people in various places took notes about events and connections, we'd never had one central, definitive list of everyone in the community, where they were living and how long they'd been around. With a second village in the mix now, this information was more important than ever. A proper census would give us the tools to start to prepare for winter in earnest — Not just in predicting how much food and firewood would be needed, but what roads needed to be cleared, medical preparations and more.
The box I mentioned before, it helped with this. It was full of items that were a huge help in getting organized: Pencils, binders, blessed paper. And chalk. There was only one place to use that.
After carefully copying the information that had been collected on the blackboard at the Inn, I wash down both sides and jump right in: At the top of the outfacing side, I make three headings:
Beneath this, I start with my own info:
"Why haven't we named the damn streets yet?" I mutter, and then began writing in what information I know on the rest of the villagers, leaving blank spaces for others to fill in next time they're at the Inn. But seriously, though, one more thing added to my to-do list: Street names and house numbers.
no subject
"I'm a botanist, so most days you can find me out in the fields, but we'll be done for the year pretty soon. I'm hoping this lists helps us get a better idea of how far we need to stretch our stores. Are you from Earth?"
no subject
"I am. New York, actually, and I get the whole name thing. I'm a nurse." she chuckled again. "Or, was. I've since gone into private care."
Her lingering smile says there's a joke behind that.
"What about you? Where you from?"
no subject
"Nursing is definitely a coveted skill around here," I add. "It's a little better now, but we went awhile without anybody with real medical expertise. Fortunately, we've mostly been lucky in terms of illness and injury."
no subject
Well, during the right season that is.
"I'm sure the clinic would be dealing with a lot of gastrointestinal issues from people eating the wrong things out in the forest if you weren't here." Couldn't really argue with her there. She could share some interesting stories.
no subject
In a perfect world, we'd never need Claire's expertise, but you find out pretty quickly that this place is far from perfect.
"Have you been down to the infirmary? Or clinic. Whatever it is we're calling it these days."
no subject
A nod follows her words and Claire's expression shifts into one of mild exasperation.
"You're being a whole lot nicer than me. I've been calling it a closet and that may or may not be because I have more medical supplies on hand at my apartment than what this place has."But I guess given what everyone started off with it's better than nothing."
A pause.
"You mentioned the list was to get a better idea as to how far the food stores would go. Is that a concern being the one handling that?"
no subject
I look down to the chalk in my hand, then make a vague gesture in the general direction of the storehouse. "I don't know if you've met Gaius, our resident Roman. He's been organizing our stores, and apparently he's got experience in feeding a whole army, so I think we'll be just fine."
no subject
Her eyes drop down to the chalk in his hands, too. "No, I haven't." Claire's eyes narrow in curiosity. "Wait, are you talking ancient times Roman or modern Italian because with a name like Gaius I'm thinking you mean the former."
Excuse her, she's heard of people coming in from different years but this? Hearing there's someone that far back will definitely be a first.
no subject
"But, the man is really good at being organized, and hey, if we ever need an aqueduct, we know who to ask."
no subject
Ah, to be young again.
"Yeah, it is. Mostly because I'm still trying to get used to the whole idea of different universes existing beyond my own. I never really thought about it."
Claire pauses, looking at the names on the board again.
"Too busy putting superheroes back together." Claire adds, smiling softly as she thought of Matt. "Anyway, I'll make a point of stopping by the storehouse because now I just want to say I actually met a Roman." she says, laughing softly.