shouko ⇌ 硝子 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quitsmoking) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
citylogs2023-07-19 02:32 pm
quitsmoking) wrote in citylogs2023-07-19 02:32 pm
⇀ july [open] post
WHO: shoko (quitsmoking) & y'all
WHAT: general city exploration and an offering of medical care
WHERE: a grocery store, a pharmacy, and perhaps other businesses nearby
WHEN: early to mid-july
WARNINGS: none for now, but spoilers will be marked
FEASTING
[ The strangeness of it all has yet to settle, and Shoko's not entirely convinced she'll ever shake it. Even as she encounters more and more strangers, most of whom seem to be in as much of a hurry as she is, this place continues to feel off in ways she can't articulate. Even while she does the most mundane of things, like her current trip down aisle three of a humble grocery store, the sprawling emptiness of her surroundings is unsettling. It isn't homesickness, she's sure of that, as she sets a few packets of instant ramen into her cart. This city doesn't remind her anything of Tokyo, or even of the serenity of the forests and hills surrounding the school. No, the city exudes a sort of lifelessness that rivals a morgue—but even a cadaver has a presence, and if one wants to they can imagine what sort of life that person might have led. Here, beyond the strangers, there aren't even corpses. Unless you're counting the empty shells of the buildings.
But even those don't feel quite right, and it's something she picked up on the moment she set foot into one of the apartments. As she had gone down the corridor, peeking into every door along the way, each of them gave off a sense of abandonment rather than welcome. As if the occupants had been spirited away rather than left. She can't help but wonder if the same fate is destined for everyone here now—and privately hopes they'll just be sent back to where they came from.
But she's also no fool, and also suspicious of the size and prominence of that cemetery.
Rounding the endcap, she tips one of the bags of chips into her cart on the way past, trying not to consider too much what they'll all do once the food runs out. For now, she's just pleasantly surprised that the meat and seafood seems well-stocked, although perhaps a little frustrated that there doesn't seem to be a butcher in sight. She hovers, instead, by the seemingly moot number dispenser, wondering whether she should even bother, or if this is like the conbini and the bowling alley and she should just invite herself behind the counter to pull out a pair of those pre-steamed crab legs sets. ]
Maybe it would just be easier to do fish or chicken...
FIRST AID
[ Stocking the fridge and tidying the rooms was easy. The apartments themselves don't seem particularly dirty, and what dust had settled wipes up easily and without anything curious or unpleasant beneath it. So, in the end, it hadn't really mattered which of the dozen she investigated ended up being the one she settled into, except that she wanted to ensure it was big enough for company. Not for parties (never for parties) but for the occasional visitor with an issue. She knows that, eventually, it would behoove her to put the word out that there is someone around with some knowledge of first aid (among other things) available for scrapes, cuts, bruises, or worse. But she's wary of the shared network and the things she's already been seeing posted on it, and isn't exactly keen to invite a lot of that into her personal space.
Ideally, then, none of it would happen in her own home, but that's going to be easier said than done. In addition to wandering her way towards the nearest grocer, she'd taken stock of the general surroundings of the apartment building. There is, thankfully, a nearby conbini for all her late-nightalcohol cravings, along with what looks like the remains of a thrift store or consignment shop. But her sights, for now at least, are set on the unkempt pharmacy at the end of the block. The shelves are disorganized, but the stock seems well within expiry, and it would just need a bit of elbow grease to clean up the general ick of it. That would, however, also be an awful lot of work for one person who is admittedly more interested in administering care than self-care (or shop-care). So it's a dream that she sets aside for now, while also pilfering its messy shelves for first aid essentials—and some slightly above average quantities of things like antibiotics and pain killers.
It's a little uncouth but for now she stores it all in a dedicated kitchen cabinet—the gauze, the antiseptic, the surgeon's thread, and the medication alike. Neatly labeled and shelved, but altogether out of place in someone's home. She's lost in her thoughts of how to get the word out as she makes one final lap around the place. Around one wrist is a shopping bag heavy with plastic prescription pill containers, large boxes of assorted bandages, and various sizes and shapes of braces. At her feet is something she doesn't yet dare carry: a shrink-wrapped case of isopropyl alcohol, with a dozen, 20-oz. bottles all neatly packaged together. ]
OOC
i'm likely to add at least one other prompt after the event goes up i will not be adding additional prompts this month, but am still otherwise very open to random adventures around the city! if you want to do something but would like to brainstorm first, feel free to send me a PM.
quitsmoking) & y'allWHAT: general city exploration and an offering of medical care
WHERE: a grocery store, a pharmacy, and perhaps other businesses nearby
WHEN: early to mid-july
WARNINGS: none for now, but spoilers will be marked
FEASTING
[ The strangeness of it all has yet to settle, and Shoko's not entirely convinced she'll ever shake it. Even as she encounters more and more strangers, most of whom seem to be in as much of a hurry as she is, this place continues to feel off in ways she can't articulate. Even while she does the most mundane of things, like her current trip down aisle three of a humble grocery store, the sprawling emptiness of her surroundings is unsettling. It isn't homesickness, she's sure of that, as she sets a few packets of instant ramen into her cart. This city doesn't remind her anything of Tokyo, or even of the serenity of the forests and hills surrounding the school. No, the city exudes a sort of lifelessness that rivals a morgue—but even a cadaver has a presence, and if one wants to they can imagine what sort of life that person might have led. Here, beyond the strangers, there aren't even corpses. Unless you're counting the empty shells of the buildings.
But even those don't feel quite right, and it's something she picked up on the moment she set foot into one of the apartments. As she had gone down the corridor, peeking into every door along the way, each of them gave off a sense of abandonment rather than welcome. As if the occupants had been spirited away rather than left. She can't help but wonder if the same fate is destined for everyone here now—and privately hopes they'll just be sent back to where they came from.
But she's also no fool, and also suspicious of the size and prominence of that cemetery.
Rounding the endcap, she tips one of the bags of chips into her cart on the way past, trying not to consider too much what they'll all do once the food runs out. For now, she's just pleasantly surprised that the meat and seafood seems well-stocked, although perhaps a little frustrated that there doesn't seem to be a butcher in sight. She hovers, instead, by the seemingly moot number dispenser, wondering whether she should even bother, or if this is like the conbini and the bowling alley and she should just invite herself behind the counter to pull out a pair of those pre-steamed crab legs sets. ]
Maybe it would just be easier to do fish or chicken...
FIRST AID
[ Stocking the fridge and tidying the rooms was easy. The apartments themselves don't seem particularly dirty, and what dust had settled wipes up easily and without anything curious or unpleasant beneath it. So, in the end, it hadn't really mattered which of the dozen she investigated ended up being the one she settled into, except that she wanted to ensure it was big enough for company. Not for parties (never for parties) but for the occasional visitor with an issue. She knows that, eventually, it would behoove her to put the word out that there is someone around with some knowledge of first aid (among other things) available for scrapes, cuts, bruises, or worse. But she's wary of the shared network and the things she's already been seeing posted on it, and isn't exactly keen to invite a lot of that into her personal space.
Ideally, then, none of it would happen in her own home, but that's going to be easier said than done. In addition to wandering her way towards the nearest grocer, she'd taken stock of the general surroundings of the apartment building. There is, thankfully, a nearby conbini for all her late-night
It's a little uncouth but for now she stores it all in a dedicated kitchen cabinet—the gauze, the antiseptic, the surgeon's thread, and the medication alike. Neatly labeled and shelved, but altogether out of place in someone's home. She's lost in her thoughts of how to get the word out as she makes one final lap around the place. Around one wrist is a shopping bag heavy with plastic prescription pill containers, large boxes of assorted bandages, and various sizes and shapes of braces. At her feet is something she doesn't yet dare carry: a shrink-wrapped case of isopropyl alcohol, with a dozen, 20-oz. bottles all neatly packaged together. ]
OOC
no subject
Most American restaurants prefer to stick to burgers and fries, in my experience.
[ At least in the truest sense of the word 'American.' It's not like he has anything against a good burger every now and then though. Sometimes a little big of greasy diner food is exactly what it takes to hit the spot.
While she works, he's content to linger nearby, keeping pace with the conversation. ]
But I believe there are several restaurants in the city, depending on where you are. [ He hasn't checked them all out but.... ] Is there are a particular type of food you're craving? Or are you mostly looking to take a few days off from having to cook for yourself?
no subject
I get the feeling I'm going to have more free time than ever here, if it's all just...this. [ She whirls a hand in the air, gesturing not just at the vast emptiness of the store, but how it mirrors the even greater emptiness outside. She can't remember the last time she's been so unnecessary, but, for now anyway, she's trying not to let it bother her. ]
So maybe it's time to try out new things. [ A soft smile, as she places a few 2-liters of tonic water into her cart. ] Or to work on that restaurant petition so I only need to learn one location.
no subject
It's a jarring feeling, going from having too much to do to nothing at all. In some ways it's freeing, being allowed to do as he likes with the expections of others (and the whole world) resting on his shoulders. On the other hand... He's been following the wishes of a dead man for the better part of his life now. By choice, admittedly, but it's still left him with little room to explore the things in life he's interested in.
Maybe the woman's right. Maybe it really is time to try new things. ]
Not a fan of taking your time and discovering new things? There's a certain wonder in slowly learning about everything the world has to offer. [ Although... ] But I admit it is much easier to only have to remember one thing over many.
[ Anyway. ]
What would you like to try the most then? So we can make this petition as thorough as possible.
no subject
[ Her cart seems to say otherwise, as she fills it with a few more instant staples, like miso, pre-cooked rice, and canned soups she mostly chooses at random and based on the image rather than the description. ]
Italian food might be a good start. Simple, eclectic, and the kind of menu with something for everyone.
[ With a week-plus' worth of the kind of food only a bachelor might buy, she begins scanning the signboards above the aisles, with the intention of leading them to the only other aisle she cares about: beer and mixers. ]
Do you have any favorites yourself?
no subject
But he makes no move to wander off in search of more goods, eyes outwardly following her motions. There's a certain distance in his gaze though, as he thinks back to years long ago. ]
There was a particular blueberry pie I liked when I was a child.
[ A speciality shared between him and his father, on the rare free days the other man had gotten from work. Both the man and the pie are nothing more than memories now, and for a moment his good-natured smile fades. ]
It's been a long time since I've had it thought. These days I tend to eat whatever's easy, or whatever is being served in the buffet car. Like you, my job didn't leave me with much time to explore, or even cook for myself.
no subject
You spend a lot of time on trains?
[ A genuine question, as she hefts several 6-packs of various Japanese-looking beers into her cart—Japanese-looking since the labels in this place are all blank, and it's a matter of familiarity that leads her to silver cans and orange and gold labels. It's also more than one might expect one person to need for several weeks, let alone one, but she doesn't bat an eye.
Just before he answers, though she does want to know, she adds: ]
A train car-styled restaurant with a rotating menu might not be such a bad business idea.
no subject
I was traveling on a train before this. It was an extended journey, so eating in the buffet car with my traveling companions became the norm.
[ Probably better to leave out the part where the train traveled through space. There's really only so much he can comfortably unload on a person he's just met for the first time.
And while he's not usually one to judge based on external appearance, he can't help but do a double-take at all the beer being loaded into her cart, eyes lingering too long on all the various cans. ]
You must really like beer.
[ Really really. ]
no subject
It's her daydreaming that keeps her from realizing what she's doing, the mechanical, familiar loading of perhaps entirely too much alcohol into her cart with little consideration of how she'll be taking it home. (Could she just steal the cart and return it?) She pauses, with a look of surprise and no shame, when he speaks up, eyeing the dozen or so packs as if wondering how they got there.
She shrugs, nonchalant. ]
My own little escape. Since a real trip isn't exactly in the cards right now. [ She does, however, elect to reshelve the pack in her hand, if only because there really is plenty in her cart for now. ] Not a drinker yourself? Or do you just prefer liquor?
[ Idly, she wonders if maybe she should opt for half beer, half wine instead. ]
no subject
I'm more of a social drinker. I usually have what people around me are having.
[ Whether that be heavy liquor, beer, or a spritzy cocktail, though his own personal preference trends towards the simple. ]
Were you planning a trip before you arrived here? [ Unfortunate timing if so... ]
no subject
Though she's unlikely to slow down either way, perhaps in spite of her nearly nullified abilities. ]
I can't actually remember the last time I took a vacation. [ Said not with regret, but with a note of trying to recall. ] I'm a bit too important back home to travel regularly for anything but work. And even if I did travel for leisure, it would be too guarded for me to have much fun. Although maybe I could have done something like a train tour, or a cruise...
[ Her cart belies her looks at this point, but it meets her expectations for her first week here: beer, instant foods, and a bit of actual nutrition with some fresh seafood and produce (to add to the noodles, mostly). ]
Since we're likely friends at this point, talking about vacations, I should probably introduce myself. [ Rather than extend a handshake, she bows slightly; she's aware that handshakes are typical with foreigners, but in general she tries not to touch unless she's healing someone. ] Shoko Ieiri.