[ Flynn throws himself almost immediately into cleaning.
He's never really enjoyed being alone, so he's gratified to have Repede around, even sleeping, and then after he's checked the pantry to make sure the rice is still good (it is, but he has to evict a few families of insects and tiny critters), Daisy, who materializes with a puff of smoke and a quiet huff and goes to settle by Repede. It's a funny sight, this massive blue-maned thing settling down gracefully beside an increasingly-less-suspicious dog, but Flynn doesn't give himself much time to think about it: he has work to do.
He manages to scrounge up an old dusty broom and some cloths from another closet off the kitchen, finds running water in the old, deep sink, and gets to work, humming to himself to fill the air.
First up: the kitchen proper. Yuri needs a clean space to work, so Flynn scrubs out the sink (full of old grime) and wipes the counter down with a half-used bar of soap he finds, polishing the stone until the streaks of dust and time are worn away. He tackles the walls and the cabinets next, sweeping them out with a rag, coughing in the dust that puffs up into the fading light. ]
Alright. I see this isn't going to be as easy as I thought. Daisy, are you really sure it's alright for us to be living here?
[ From the living room, she snorts, and Flynn gets the sense that yes, it really is: this is just how things are, here.
What a strange thought. Everywhere is strewn evidence of previous occupants: dishes stacked in the cabinets Flynn has to wash, simple but sturdy cast-iron cooking implements, a tapestry depicting various unrecognizable mushrooms. In the pantry beside the rice, Flynn finds flour, some sort of sweet syrup in a jar, and a few sauces, which he tests to make sure they're good, dusts off, and replaces.
It's good work. It keeps his mind on the task and off worrying about Yuri out there in an unfamiliar city, chasing down some sort of food. It keeps him from thinking too far into the future, although of course his thoughts are full of the work ahead of them as he scrubs: finding the lay of the land, determining whether there's a way to get home, figuring out why there are so many empty houses and parentless children. Locating those pirates and stopping them, ideally. Learning more about the reasons for all the walls and suspicion.
Maybe Yuri will return with some answers. It's nice, Flynn reflects when he's wiping down the grimy windows, to not have to do all of this alone: he can rely on Yuri to fill in those gaps, to pick up the pieces that Flynn misses. If there is one thing the last year taught Flynn, it's that attempting things alone is a fool's errand and inevitably leads down terrible paths. Isolation fixes nothing.
And Yuri is the best person he knows. There's no one else Flynn would rather be stuck in a strange and potentially hostile world with than his whip-smart too-kind best friend, a beacon of light even when things are at their most dire.
Flynn smiles faintly at his own reflection, lets his cloth rest, and goes to turn on the lights and take inventory and do something about the stove and the fireplace. Out back, there seems to be at least enough dry wood to get them going. It's hot, so Flynn yanks off his shirt to keep it from getting too sweaty, checks the wood for pests, chases of a few errant spiders, and gets to work carrying it inside. He can't cast any fire magic, but perhaps Yuri can light it with his fingers if he can still do that.
By the time Yuri gets back, the kitchen is sparkling, the dishes and cooking implements all cleaned and re-stacked, and Flynn is sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor surrounded by the contents of both of their bags.
On each of his shoulders is seated a little skeleton, chattering happily. He looks up as the door scrapes, his smile widening. ]
no subject
He's never really enjoyed being alone, so he's gratified to have Repede around, even sleeping, and then after he's checked the pantry to make sure the rice is still good (it is, but he has to evict a few families of insects and tiny critters), Daisy, who materializes with a puff of smoke and a quiet huff and goes to settle by Repede. It's a funny sight, this massive blue-maned thing settling down gracefully beside an increasingly-less-suspicious dog, but Flynn doesn't give himself much time to think about it: he has work to do.
He manages to scrounge up an old dusty broom and some cloths from another closet off the kitchen, finds running water in the old, deep sink, and gets to work, humming to himself to fill the air.
First up: the kitchen proper. Yuri needs a clean space to work, so Flynn scrubs out the sink (full of old grime) and wipes the counter down with a half-used bar of soap he finds, polishing the stone until the streaks of dust and time are worn away. He tackles the walls and the cabinets next, sweeping them out with a rag, coughing in the dust that puffs up into the fading light. ]
Alright. I see this isn't going to be as easy as I thought. Daisy, are you really sure it's alright for us to be living here?
[ From the living room, she snorts, and Flynn gets the sense that yes, it really is: this is just how things are, here.
What a strange thought. Everywhere is strewn evidence of previous occupants: dishes stacked in the cabinets Flynn has to wash, simple but sturdy cast-iron cooking implements, a tapestry depicting various unrecognizable mushrooms. In the pantry beside the rice, Flynn finds flour, some sort of sweet syrup in a jar, and a few sauces, which he tests to make sure they're good, dusts off, and replaces.
It's good work. It keeps his mind on the task and off worrying about Yuri out there in an unfamiliar city, chasing down some sort of food. It keeps him from thinking too far into the future, although of course his thoughts are full of the work ahead of them as he scrubs: finding the lay of the land, determining whether there's a way to get home, figuring out why there are so many empty houses and parentless children. Locating those pirates and stopping them, ideally. Learning more about the reasons for all the walls and suspicion.
Maybe Yuri will return with some answers. It's nice, Flynn reflects when he's wiping down the grimy windows, to not have to do all of this alone: he can rely on Yuri to fill in those gaps, to pick up the pieces that Flynn misses. If there is one thing the last year taught Flynn, it's that attempting things alone is a fool's errand and inevitably leads down terrible paths. Isolation fixes nothing.
And Yuri is the best person he knows. There's no one else Flynn would rather be stuck in a strange and potentially hostile world with than his whip-smart too-kind best friend, a beacon of light even when things are at their most dire.
Flynn smiles faintly at his own reflection, lets his cloth rest, and goes to turn on the lights and take inventory and do something about the stove and the fireplace. Out back, there seems to be at least enough dry wood to get them going. It's hot, so Flynn yanks off his shirt to keep it from getting too sweaty, checks the wood for pests, chases of a few errant spiders, and gets to work carrying it inside. He can't cast any fire magic, but perhaps Yuri can light it with his fingers if he can still do that.
By the time Yuri gets back, the kitchen is sparkling, the dishes and cooking implements all cleaned and re-stacked, and Flynn is sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor surrounded by the contents of both of their bags.
On each of his shoulders is seated a little skeleton, chattering happily. He looks up as the door scrapes, his smile widening. ]
Yuri! Did you see these? They're remarkable!