Bruce Banner (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gammasystem) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
apocalypsehowcomm2023-01-09 04:06 pm
gammasystem) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2023-01-09 04:06 pm
Entry tags:
LOG | January Catch-All | OPEN
Who: Bruce Banner, TBA
When: Early - Mid January
Where: Bonnie's Flophouse, Gloucester
Summary: Bruce adjusts and explores
Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol, others TBA but most likely will explore things like Dissociation, Anxiety/Paranoia, and other mental health issues
A. Leaf spots
He didn’t like to get comfortable living anywhere really. He slept on floors when the beds were available, he chooses poor views and cold houses with broken heating to squat in. He doesn’t stay still for long so there's no point in getting attached. Yet something about this place was getting to him. The close quarters and freshly painted walls where the inhabitants gathered to make it cozy, to make it a home.. It was touching.
He wanted to help, somehow, anyway he could. Bonnie's Flophouse had a bit more of a green touch since his arrival, no pun intended. Plants looked fuller, bloomed better, more pots and planters and little cups with buds and snippings growing new ones where he could find places around the common area. He tried to make sure they didn’t seem too invasive on the spaces.
He was settled by a window in the communal living area. He had on gardening gloves and was handling a pair of small garden shears next to a potted ficus. Bruce ran his thumb over a leaf sporting a few spots through it and sighed. “You’re doing well, you know? We all falter, have our bad days..” He carefully pruned off the leaf and looked over it for other spots. Some people think talking to plants is a silly notion.. He thought it was relaxing. “We’ll make sure you get better.”
B. Seashells by the Seashore
The soft sigh of the sea whispered on the breeze as the tide pulled in some distance away. It was far out this afternoon, barely grazing where he found his seat in the tidepools. Wingaersheek Beach was a spot he’d been meaning to visit and now was as good a day as any. The chill in the air was still there, snow drifts were some distance away and piled up by the edges of the beach, the water was freezing really but.. It was nice for Bruce. He sat at the edge of a sizable tidepool, his pants rolled up along with his sleeves as he thumbed to the next page of a small bullet journal.
He wrote intently in it as he glanced down next to him to the water, skimming for whatever critters may still reside there in spite of the chill, and to reflect on his- well, reflection. “I need a haircut..” He muttered before shaking his head and looking back to what he was writing. “Nothing alarming or too out of the ordinary yet.. May revisit after it gets darker to run more observations..”
C. Is this seat taken?
The few bars up around town were steadily seeing more and more patrons since the incident in November. One less dive meant more business for the others, and after the spooked-away customers started to come back it seemed it was booming. Packed guests looking to drink away their worries and start the new year off tipsy were pooled in droves. Bruce.. Didn’t care much for bars at the best of times. Wouldn’t even go down the same street with one on it at worst. Yet there was work to be done and questions to be asked.
He found a quaint little one, a social lounge of sorts with a cozy warm atmosphere and.. Few to no open tables. He kept his head down and his satchel held close as he skimmed the tables before clocking someone sitting alone. Two birds with one stone, right?
Bruce walked over and gave a small wave to the patron before gesturing to the seat across from them at their table. “Is this seat taken? I don’t want to impose but.. Doesn’t seem like there’s anywhere else to sit at the moment.”
When: Early - Mid January
Where: Bonnie's Flophouse, Gloucester
Summary: Bruce adjusts and explores
Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol, others TBA but most likely will explore things like Dissociation, Anxiety/Paranoia, and other mental health issues
A. Leaf spots
He didn’t like to get comfortable living anywhere really. He slept on floors when the beds were available, he chooses poor views and cold houses with broken heating to squat in. He doesn’t stay still for long so there's no point in getting attached. Yet something about this place was getting to him. The close quarters and freshly painted walls where the inhabitants gathered to make it cozy, to make it a home.. It was touching.
He wanted to help, somehow, anyway he could. Bonnie's Flophouse had a bit more of a green touch since his arrival, no pun intended. Plants looked fuller, bloomed better, more pots and planters and little cups with buds and snippings growing new ones where he could find places around the common area. He tried to make sure they didn’t seem too invasive on the spaces.
He was settled by a window in the communal living area. He had on gardening gloves and was handling a pair of small garden shears next to a potted ficus. Bruce ran his thumb over a leaf sporting a few spots through it and sighed. “You’re doing well, you know? We all falter, have our bad days..” He carefully pruned off the leaf and looked over it for other spots. Some people think talking to plants is a silly notion.. He thought it was relaxing. “We’ll make sure you get better.”
B. Seashells by the Seashore
The soft sigh of the sea whispered on the breeze as the tide pulled in some distance away. It was far out this afternoon, barely grazing where he found his seat in the tidepools. Wingaersheek Beach was a spot he’d been meaning to visit and now was as good a day as any. The chill in the air was still there, snow drifts were some distance away and piled up by the edges of the beach, the water was freezing really but.. It was nice for Bruce. He sat at the edge of a sizable tidepool, his pants rolled up along with his sleeves as he thumbed to the next page of a small bullet journal.
He wrote intently in it as he glanced down next to him to the water, skimming for whatever critters may still reside there in spite of the chill, and to reflect on his- well, reflection. “I need a haircut..” He muttered before shaking his head and looking back to what he was writing. “Nothing alarming or too out of the ordinary yet.. May revisit after it gets darker to run more observations..”
C. Is this seat taken?
The few bars up around town were steadily seeing more and more patrons since the incident in November. One less dive meant more business for the others, and after the spooked-away customers started to come back it seemed it was booming. Packed guests looking to drink away their worries and start the new year off tipsy were pooled in droves. Bruce.. Didn’t care much for bars at the best of times. Wouldn’t even go down the same street with one on it at worst. Yet there was work to be done and questions to be asked.
He found a quaint little one, a social lounge of sorts with a cozy warm atmosphere and.. Few to no open tables. He kept his head down and his satchel held close as he skimmed the tables before clocking someone sitting alone. Two birds with one stone, right?
Bruce walked over and gave a small wave to the patron before gesturing to the seat across from them at their table. “Is this seat taken? I don’t want to impose but.. Doesn’t seem like there’s anywhere else to sit at the moment.”
b
Now there was all this stuff happening with the ADI. He was still trying to wrap his head around all of that.
Peter takes in the quiet of Wingaersheek beach. Not surprised to see it was mostly empty. He drifts across the beach in quiet, the tension he's carrying easing considerably.
Then he sees Bruce seated at the edge of a tidepool. The seventeen year old debates with himself before approaching. Every question he has feels silly.
"How is the tide pool doing here?" He doesn't exactly know a lot about tidepools or their animal populations, but he remembered in grade school doing this kind of thing on a field trip.
no subject
It wasn't until the voice spoke up and something run just familiar enough that when he looked up there was a dash of confusion on his face as he glanced over Peter's. He quickly shook it off as not something to be concerned about yet as he looked over into the tidepool again.
"It's thriving fairly well, the coast here has a number of impressive tidepools with plenty of healthy seeming species. I'm no marine biologist but a-" He stopped a moment in thought before continuing after deciding it couldn't hurt to be a bit presumptive if they weren't here. "A friend of mine has a more vested interest in marine life so I try to keep up with it as best I can."
He then pointed down at something in a shallower shelf of the tidepool, "There's a juvenile horseshoe crab over there," and then to a spot deeper in the pool, "And down there moving around is a pretty big seacumber, no doubt more crabs here and there too that have gone into hiding. Overall it seems to be thriving."
He then looked over and gave a slow, low nod at Peter. "I don't think we've met, my name is Bruce."
no subject
Peter leans in a little to peer at the shallower tidepool, interest clear enough on his features. The teenager doesn't know a lot, but he's always happy to learn. "I think I've only really seen some of once back in grade school, so this is definitely really wild to see in person."
Peter's attention shifts back to Bruce at the introduction, "I'm Peter, Peter Park. Yeah, I don't think we've met before. I've mostly been staying around town more than anything else."
a
"Are you the one who's been adding the greenery? It's nice."