sixthiterationlogs | (no subject)

WHO: Lucy Stillman
WHERE: Behind the inn (near the school) & later on Desmond's
WHEN: February 14
OPEN TO: Frank Castle, Desmond Miles
WARNINGS: (Please warn for adult content or anything triggering)

Lucy didn't have a single clue on what to feed a puppy in a place that didn't already have dog or puppy chow available. There weren't any supermarkets around, she couldn't simply walk over and grab a bag off a shelf and dump the cost on a plastic card. When hotdog had told her that they had recipes they could share, that alone told her that she would be getting her hands dirty cooking up puppy meals.

And speaking of puppies—who thought it was a good idea to put something so small into a box and give it to her? She was trying to fix herself, wasn't that the more important first step to take? Why throw a puppy in the mix? And also baby chicks? This had to be a joke.

Thankfully the boxes were deep enough that she could fold up a pillow case and line the bottom to make it more comfortable for them, leaving the six to cheep cheep within. Lucy wouldn't have to worry about them getting out and wreaking havoc on the furniture. This puppy on the other hand? It liked to wiggle a lot in her arms as she was making her way along the snowy path, her black pack over a shoulder. At least he was small, small and had a thick coat to fight off the cold.

What had he said? Behind the inn and near the school, something about a big 6 on the side and a bunch of animals outside. It shouldn't be too hard to miss.

"Hello?" she was calling out as she approached, the puppy barking in her arms as if to also announce himself.

After spending a few moments with Frank and letting him have some time to see her new little furry companion, a stop in at the Inn was quickly needed to pick up some sandwiches (it seemed like a routine whenever she was going to see him) and Lucy made her way down the path to where Desmond's house was situated. The puppy was calmer now, enjoying the snow and trying to eat it, which was fine with her as she was watching him the entire time to make sure he didn't pick up anything. Surprisingly he hadn't fought with the leash, though at first he hadn't quite understood why he couldn't run off ahead of her but he'd caught on quick.

Going over to visit, was it the right thing to do? They'd had their time apart since returning home weeks ago, she'd kept to herself most of the time, when she wasn't sitting and talking with Ezio. Lucy still wasn't sure if telling him who she really was had been such a good idea, but perhaps it had been for the best; she'd had to tell someone, and after he'd seen what he'd seen at the shrine, after he'd assumed the worst and had pulled her from the tub at home, some part of her had figured he deserved an explanation for her behavior. For whatever was going on between her and Desmond.

It was on her terms that she was speaking up. Choosing to speak to one of the greatest Mentors the Brotherhood had ever had, telling her story, it was a big step in the fact that the Mentors she was familiar with hadn't been the greatest. They'd been assholes, on both sides, Bill more than anything as he'd had a hand in training her her entire life. This Ezio was younger, much younger, he wasn't old and wise, and yet he had... handled her confession well. He hadn't tried to kill her, there was that.

Lucy came out of her thoughts as she turned to the front path of Desmond's house, taking the steps slowly with the puppy as he thought it was a good idea to try and leap over them all, nearly face-planting into one.

She reached out and knocked.

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He laughs warmly at the way the puppy charges ahead into the snow and the other three take off after him.

"Yeah. Shit outside, get out their energy. They'll be fine." Frank has taken care of a lot of dogs during his stay here, whether he's adopted them personally or not. Lucy's made a good contact in raising her pup at least. The rest of his character might be... questionable, but no one else has ever seemed concerned about it here. And with his red personality in full swing? Frank isn't worried about that changing. "That's fine. Or Frank."

Get it...? No, he doesn't care about the joke anymore, it's just as natural as breathing by now.

“Ah, that’s right. Big Frank’s. Fancy Franks. Frank’s Gourmet Hot Dogs— How about we just stick with good ol’ Frank. Though I might start calling you Frank the Dog Whisperer. For obvious reasons.”

Lucy tucks her now empty hands into the pockets of her jacket, scarf loosely wrapped over her head and keeping her warm while they’re outside. “So, how long have you been around? Should I assume long enough to have a little zoo of your own?”

Frank just lets her rattle on, shrugging a shoulder when she ends on just his name. "That works too, I think it says that in the Census book."

No, like, it actually does. He doesn't fuck around when it comes to dogs. He gives a glance at his livestock and nods.

"Since last Summer? Yeah... a while." Long enough to grow this impressive muskrat on his face, anyway.

“Huh. You must really love dogs. This is my first time with one. Spent most of my life around cats. I’m a little curious as to why I got baby chicks and a dog and not just a cat.” Not that she would complain. A pet is a pet, and sometimes it’s good to have that little furry companion for therapeutic reasons.

Lucy raises her brows. “Last summer? I’ve only been here since the beginning of December.” Oh, she can definitely see that impressive muskrat that’s grown. No wonder he’s got it.

"Probie," he says with a riotous little grin. He's usually not so... chill, even with weed in his system. Thanks, red scrubs personality. "Yeah, uh... Since mid-June, I guess. Me and Kamala and Jess. We came here from another place like this."

He jerks a thumb back towards his house, they all live together there with their thousand animals.

"Never been around cats much before here. They always seem like they've got it figured out... We've got two, inside, if you wanna meet 'em." He whistles for the dogs while heading back towards the house. Lucy looks like she could use the interlude from the cold anyway. "Coffee?"

“Like another... universe?” she asks, following, curious as she’d spoken with someone who’d mentioned the same thing about someone else. Kind of like world hopping, in her mind.

Then Lucy stops. “God,” she moans. “Actual coffee?” He’s not twisting her leg? Lord, she could already taste it.

He laughs at that. He's conditioned to accept these "gifts." He used to always get coffee and whiskey or wine in Reims. Now it's just coffee, but he still can't complain.

"Don't take my word for it." About the coffee, he means. Frank holds the door open for her and sure enough there's a lynx on the couch and a peacat in the window. The dogs all rush the door after her so he keeps it open until the puppy is in. "And yeah, we're... they used to call it world-hoppers. We were in France, but it was all fucked up. If you made even one noise, monsters would come kill you. But then you'd come right back, so."

After that info dump he's going to start the percolator.

“With the pup and the chicks, somehow there were about five bottles of alcohol included.” Inside she goes, scarf unwrapped, jacket undone. She blows out a breath, relieved to have the layers loosened. “I’m sure it’s a sign—I’m going to need them.”

Lucy then starts at the sight of the lynx, eyes widening. “Holy shit. Okay. That’s not something you see everyday.” Same goes for the peacat. God, is this really the world she’s in now? Her boots come off. “Sounds worse than this place. Makes this place kind of like a godsend. How long were you there for?”

"I'm sure you will," he agrees easily as he tracks snow through the house without much care for the mess. "And yeah, this place sucks, but it's kind of... boring in comparison."

Is that rude to say? Whatever.

"Uhhhh - four months? Ish. How do you take your coffee?"

“World hoppers indeed.” She keeps her eyes on the lynx as she follows after him. “Oh, one sugar and one milk, if you have it.”

The puppy breaks away from his new friends and trails after her, barking, and that distracts her for a few moments while Frank’s preparing the coffee. “You said something about recipes?” she speaks up from where she’s crouched and scratching over the puppy’s head. “Do you have anything on the chicks? It’s too bad we don’t have access to Google right now, that would make things so much easier.”

He gets out the stevia and the green milk from his groffle, fixing her coffee light and sweet, the same way he makes Kamala's.

"That's what you call it too?" he confirms softly as he hands over the cup. Down to business then. "Pups need high protein. I can set you up with eggs and elk meat. Sweet potatoes, too. The chicks can probably just eat corn meal? I've got plenty of that pre-mixed."

"It makes the most sense, really." She offers a smile of thanks as she straightens up, taking the cup. Both hands cradle it for the warmth because she'll have to head back out into the cold eventually, it's best to enjoy it while she can.

"Am I cooking the meat? Or can dogs handle it raw?" Lucy wouldn't have a problem with the extra cooking she'll have to do. This is her first time handling a dog on her own, she'd like to get it right. "Corn meal for the chicks, that sounds simple enough."

"I just seer it to kill any bacteria that might be in there, but they could probably handle it either way." He just babies his dogs... obviously. Frank takes a long sip of coffee and shuts his eyes briefly in appreciation. "The little guy have a name yet?"

"Not yet, no. I guess it's still in the works." The sip she takes is slow, careful, and once the warm liquid touches her tongue, damn is it probably the best thing she's tasted since she'd arrived months back.

"Jesus that is good." It's been so long.

He chuckles at her appreciation, nodding his agreement. "Yeah, well, for whatever reason those Observer guys have seen fit to keep me in caffeine. So if you ever need a pick-me-up, you know where to find it."

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sorry for the delay!

no worries

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