sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Just don't touch the puffball

WHO: Mark Watney
WHERE: 6I Town Hall
WHEN: 7 June, after lunch
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: n/a
NOTES: Please note in your subject line if a top-level is to Mark (or whoever)

I have to be honest, as a botanist, there's a lot about this new, expanded world to be excited about. It seems like almost every time I go out to collect samples, I find something I haven't seen before, and nearly every minute I'm not working in the fields or greenhouse, I've been in Ravi's lab doing tests and compiling observations. Some of the specimens are pretty spectacular, but for a lot of them, the things that make them impressive are also things that could be a problem for the average villager.

Which is why I'm here now, in the town hall, lining up a variety of plants on a long table at the front of the room, some dried, some placed carefully under glass, many seeded in whatever I could find to use as a pot: Sauce pans, old boxes, tea cups.

Early this morning, I left a message on the blackboard in the Inn in big chalk letters:

Seminar on new native plants
TODAY - TOWN HALL - AFTER LUNCH
IMPORTANT INFO!!

In the old place, I used to take folks out one at a time and give them a crash course on what was edible and what was poisonous, but that's just not going to cut it now.

As I wait for folks to arrive (As I wait, hoping folks will arrive), I lay out labels in front of each plant listing what I've been calling it, whether it's dangerous, and any known properties. Once I'm done running my mouth, people can come up and get a good look.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mulcahy was raised in the time when first name usage was a symbol of a closer bond than casual acquaintances; the tendency for people from times further on from him to insist on using their Christian names honestly throws him for a loop a little in the village. And of course being in the army and with all the protocol and regulations made it even worse. He tries to remember, but he doesn't always succeed.

"If you want me to call you Mark, then you must call me Francis, unless you specifically need religious help," he replies; it seems a fair trade. And one thing he did regret about the camp was the fact that so many people were so... friendly but distant with him. They meant it with respect, but it served to isolate him a little. This is a small way to close the gap, but it's a start. "And I really do wish to thank you. It was a risk, and you took it, or I wouldn't be here. And sad as it is to think he's departed us now, Jude was in the same situation, so that's two lives you've saved. So, yes, I would like to thank you."

"Well, you're welcome, Francis," I reply with a single, pointed nod the Father's way. First names it is, since I definitely don't expect to find religion anytime soon.

"I don't know whether to say it's a shame about Jude being gone or not," I admit. "I'm just glad we were able to help him while he was here. I like to think that we've got a pretty good group here, and that any of us would have gone if it had been their name on the board instead of mine."

Mark's nod is returned with one of Mulcahy's own, a smile blooming on his face. That is the one thing that's actually better for him here than at home, or the camp - that insistence on familiarity. It makes him feel more a part of things and people's lives, less like an outsider no one wants to corrupt.

"Yes, that is true. We don't know what he was going back to, whether it was a safe situation or not. I hope it was, for his sake, but I suppose we'll never know." The young man had always seemed a little wary, but in a situation like they were stuck in now, Mulcahy couldn't blame him for that. "I'd like to think so, too. Adversity can bring out the worst in humanity, but so often it brings out the best. We may not be on the verge of losing a life here - at least, not most of the time - but the way the village has come together to help all the residents here is truly inspiring. A large part of that thanks goes to you." After all, the fields and any sort of farming likely wouldn't exist, or would at least be much less profitable, without Mark around.

"I've had a lot of help, but thank you," I reply, mostly because I can see that this is not a man who lets you be dismissive of compliments. One of my grandmothers had been like that; it's better to just accept the praise with gratitude and move along.

"And we've been very fortunate. That first year particularly— It's surprising we pulled through the winter, but everyone has always been good about pitching in and the whole loving thy neighbor bit."

He's simply very insistent that people realize how much good they do and be happy they're helping so many people. He's spent a long time in a place where the staff has been run down again and again, seen them all break more than once even with all the good they do, and he knows positive reinforcement helps quite a lot. Mulcahy isn't about to let the people in this different environment fall prey to the same problems, at least not as much as he could help it.

"Ahh yes, 'And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.' Words to live by here, as with anywhere. I hope it continues in that manner, and to that effect, I'd like to offer my help if you ever need it anywhere. Admittedly I'm not much of a cook-" or any sort of cook "-but I'm happy to put my nose to the grindstone wherever it's needed."

"Well, I'm not much of a cook myself, to be honest," I reply with a laugh. "There's a reason I stick to providing the fruits and vegetables for the kitchen and leaving it at that."

I'm more than capable of feeding myself, but I've been an academic bachelor half my life; what I consider edible for me is not necessarily what I'd be willing to serve anybody else.

"You ever work with plants at all?"

[MINGLE] Just don't touch the puffball

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