deercountry | april catch

Entry tags:

april catch - all

Who: viktor and others, open to all with some closed prompts
What: some late march/early april logs, including some tdm stuff. i'm happy to attach something else on if anyone's interest in doing something specific
When: late march through april
Where: various

content warning; terminal illness, arcane season 1 spoilers, likely game typical beast gore/body horror, potentially ableism mentioned, claustrophobic imagery

open prompts.

fishers of dreams - the lighthouse, early april (tdm)

a. while awake

[if you've been roped into this lighthouse business too you may enter to find a man already there. he seems vaguely disgruntled by the business, offers vague greetings but otherwise sticks to scribbling in his notebook. it looks like schematics and formulae, but anyone with an eye for either might notice they tend to trail off and start in odd bursts.

viktor will offer to cook when evening falls (or whatever seems to be the right mealtime in this place) so maybe that is a better time to strike up conversation. the smell coming from the kitchen is heavy on whatever spices the place stocks, promising pain to anyone who doesn't have the stomach for that sort of thing. worse if he finds the rotgut liquor tucked away, which he will pull out and offer despite smelling more like turpentine than anything edible.

these tricks of the eye though, flashes of people vaguely recognizable, he chalks it up more hallucinations. last month was mushrooms, so this? irritating, far more distracting, but it followed the pattern.

it isn't until later in all this he'll track whoever is with him down.] Did you see someone else come through? There, just up the stairs.

b. nightmare

[trying to reach the odd lighthouses is fruitless, the shadows converge and when the dark clears the area seems more closed in than before. it shouldn't be, he was just outside on the shore, yet now the dark sky seems to hang too low, lower still, suffocating.]

What now? This is another illusion of sorts, is it not? One this place is so fond of. [viktor sounds more irritated than anything, maybe defensive since the grip his has on his crutch is white-knuckle tight. in the distance seems to be a lighthouse, though the light is far and the area is so stifling, promising a tunnel that will close and snuff out the light entirely.

it's ridiculous of course, the walls are not that close, certainly not enough for this suffocating grip on the lungs and throat. there's no real explanation, less so when a few steps forward and the ground begins to dot with great metal cables, the distinct, sickly sweet smell of chemicals in the air. there are pools between them where the ocean should have been, this time shallow spills of what could be gasoline or something similar, slick rainbow puddles, oily and difficult to walk through without slipping or sinking.]

(ooc; for this one please, feel free to add your own character's nightmare in any flavor at any point!)

odds and ends - willful machine, early april

[viktor can be found around the vendors often enough, especially those specializing in scrap metal, tools or small machinery. for the most part he doesn't stick out, except for the fact often his massive omen often accompanies him, some sort of huge pink salamander/axolotl that he'll lean against or ask rather politely to help carry larger purchases.

he doesn't seem to notice or care about any attention, though the creature will blink curiously around. feel free to approach or find him haggling rather intently for such a stick of a man, accent thickening when it gets heated enough. maybe you want the same scrap? or are looking for something and he's standing nearby enough to notice a lost look and offers assistance?]

[one might also find him about by the sound of a nasty coughing fit. he stands with his back curled, a rag to his mouth as a makeshift handkerchief. it's a wet cough that shakes his entire frame, and when it's over his sniffs and clears his throat, straightening.

the cloth is stained in a pale color that catches the perpetual moonlight of april. paleblood, that he regards for a moment before folding the cloth in on itself with a small frown.]

closed prompts.

jinx - willful machine, late march

[viktor doesn't stay by the lamp exactly. he would usually but he hardly sees the point when this person he's meeting knows him by sight as far as he can tell. it leaves him feeling comfortable to wander within eyeshot mostly of the lantern, strolling down the canal docks to find a place to stand and watch the boats cut slowly through the water.

he likes it here, he thinks, in this district. the noise and foot traffic, the winding canals and dirty water, the boats bobbing to and fro - it wouldn't be a bad place to set up. a lab that will double as his home because he doesn't see the point in separating the two any longer, even if he can practically hear heimendinger's tutting about his work-life balance in his ear. it will be closer to the vendors, less of a hike to acquire what he'll need to start fresh. first a new brace for his leg and back, then some basic experiments into lunar energy to get a feel for it.

his lungs flare and burn, minor enough he manages to swallow it down without reaching for the rag in his pocket. he makes a note of the severity and timing, adds it to his growing mental list that seems to indicate his illness does indeed remain but is diminished. promising, if he's being optimistic, but at the moment he feels only a sense of irritation that now he doesn't know the timeline of his own life. one he might be shortening drastically with this ridiculous stunt.

a sigh and viktor goes back to watching the boats, trying to clear his head. he considers trying to message vi and ask her opinion of this but... no, he doubts he'll get anything. he's not sure if he disgusts her as a class traitor or amuses her in truth. better to just see for himself what he's gotten himself into like a fool.]

allen - willful machine, early april

[the 'grand tour' doesn't amount to much yet, the lab area just a large, empty space dotted with a few tables and a couple of desks, not even a chalkboard he's been keeping an eye out for or something that could do the same. one of the desks at least is littered with junk, at the moment tools and the starts of a knee brace, a table nearby with all the scrap he's managed to grab that could be useful in the future. one corner has a cot, maybe he'll clear out whatever other small rooms the place has later for a bedroom proper. maybe not.

viktor seems satisfied with it as he gestures around, and rio has commandeered one of the tables for her own to lie across.] A solid start, I think. I like this area, this eh... Willful Machine, that is.

[he'll never admit part of it is the boats. everyone's allowed a sort of childish interest, right? they're soothing, even if they lack the motors that fascinated him.] Have a seat, if you'd like. How have you been since the tombs?

wildcard.

[as i said, feel free to ask for anything else, including other tdm prompts, i am more interested in seeing the worlds built by others for the archway prompts so i didn't include any here. my plurk is

dichotomy or you can dm me here!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Neither do I. I assume musical education was also not part of your childhood then.

[god knows what zaun education system even was. finding dudes in caves and learning until they commit atrocities too much. he's a little surprised the sixth didn't have something, but maybe he shouldn't be. they clearly had other priorities in that world, especially for necromancers.]

Very well, if one of those notebooks is for drawing. I refuse to be the only in this 'hobby' business. [a pause then back to work related, as we all knew it would return to.] We could look for some components from our lists as well.

[He shakes his head again; no, no music, he was very busy taking classes about Bone Morph Resonances and Telemetry and so on. There were charts, and points and so on, but no musical instruments.]

I swear on my honor I will pick up a notebook solely for drawing. You'll get your squid with glasses as soon as I have a new pen in my hand.

[Adept's honor, etc. Picking up components from the work lists is technically not a hobby violation if they haven't begun the hobbies yet — he'll allow it.]

Let's do that, then. Do we have all the lists, or do we need to stop by the lab first?

[maybe they shouldn't have 50 different lists!! nah]

Very well, then we can look at string instruments. [he still is mostly imagining that will not come to pass, because the idea of playing an instrument seems silly to him. somehow more silly than pal making a hobby of drawing squids, sometimes with glasses.

viktor shifts, moving to retighten his brace before lifting himself up with his cane, careful not to jostle rio as he goes over to the notebook from before.] This has most of it, I believe. [he flips to that page, leaning in to squint at it.] We can always make more trips if needed, it will likely take some searching for some of it.

Which reminds me, I am going to have gloves made for our lab work, some sturdy leather I think will be useful in dealing with some of the materials. Is there anything you would need from a tailor besides? [they really are roommates, just asking what pal might want when he's out at the store vibes.]

[More trips, browsing the string instruments (with, hilariously, zero knowledge of what the hell to look for, good one nerds), picking up things from the tailor — it's downright domestic. The thought makes Palamedes' lips quirk up at the same time he thinks, not for the first time since waking up on the Emperor's own ugly goth sofa, that oh: he was supposed to be taking this seriously the whole time. Before Cam's disappearance and the, well, incident, this place had been a way station — now, though?

Well, now he has errands to run. Things to revolutionize. People to protect in earnest and more to not - disappoint again by dying, so. It's different.

But sentiment time is on pause, and so he looks down at his gray everything with a hum. More gray shirts? Could always use more gray shirts.]

No, not really. Wait — that's wrong; lab coats. Even better if the local tailors know a trick to dealing with bloodstains; resistance, maybe? Partial would do in a pinch.

[let's be real they will be bleeding on things and Palamedes isn't a connoisseur of laundry hacks, either]

Also, bonus: we'd look excellent.

Hm, I'll ask. Surely the hunters have tricks for such a thing, a preferred material. [viktor hums, picking up the discarded pen to jot that into the sort of haphazard list at this point. he adds 'bed for rio' too because really, he needs to get on that. she's going to either break the couch or pal's leg at this point, not that a bed will stop her occasionally with the latter.]

As we discussed, aesthetic is clearly a main priority. You have a mystique to maintain. [he says with a small smirk over, placing the pen down leaning against the table more for support than the crutch. that's actually something he likes about this place, small enough with enough Things that he could probably make it around just leaning on the walls and furniture. much easier.]

Do you think Rocky would like a proper perch? It would be easy enough to wrangle something up she could rest on. [his attention turns to the bird at random, glancing over to her, head tilting as he considers it.]

As long as it's not too heavy. [A hunter needs fairly more physical protection than they do mucking around in a lab, he figures; please no leather lab coats, he won't be able to move, and not even in a pleasant way like right now, with Rio asleep on him. Which, speaking of...]

I've never had more mystique than right now, I know.

[And, hmm, a perch for his mean bird. She's mostly been perching on the ladder for the bunk bed, or outside, but with the darkness and danger out there, maybe a dedicated perch...? He doesn't know anything about birds.

Rocky, hearing her name, deigns to look over at Viktor and lift a wing, which means - something? She's not screaming, which is good.]

Sure. I think we could figure something out for her.

Yes, no leather coats. I'd rather not look like we frequent undercity nightclubs. [very dry. that is an aesthetic and mystique for other people who are either looking to be intimidating or looking to be intimidating in a way that makes people want to spend the night with them.]

Quite, you know she is a rare mutation. There is likely no other creature like her in my world. Very mystical. [he informs, deeply fond of her. fond of pal too, allowing her to use him as her pillow.

his hand goes to his chin as he considers, maybe something like a coat rack, give it a sturdier base then different levels for her to perch on as she pleased? he has no idea what birds like but he's pretty sure perches are a thing. probably. maybe he'll research this, it seems unfair rio gets something and she does not.]

I helped someone make a cat tree once, I think the same basic principles apply. It just seems fitting she have a place of her own if Rio is to have one.

[Wow, please tell him about undercity nightclubs sometime, his entire experience with anything club-like ever has been one new year's talent show party in a bar, here. Add nightclubs to the new list of things Palamedes has never heard of in his life.]

Hmm. Which part is the mutation? I'd have to guess size, but I wouldn't know. [Being pink is his second guess, for the record; what are the Rio Facts.]

And I'll take your word for it; as long as she's happy with it, I'll be happy with it. What do we need for cooking? If you're handling the perch, I'll gather up more kitchen supplies. You might have noticed I have limited tableware and a few pots.

[oh how viktor would enjoy taking pal on an undercity trip honestly, if only to see him witness a proper nightclub for the first time, complete with all the skimpy outfits that still manage to be threatening and a customary bar fight. honestly it wouldn't shock him if some bars in the trench were similar, grim surroundings did tend to make people party harder when they had the chance.]

Her digestive system is the biggest part, my mentor studied how she could easily process and sustain herself on flora made toxic by fissure gases and general run off in the rivers. [he regards rio for a few moments, considering before he agrees.] I'm sure the size too. And the color. I've never actually seen another of her kind to know.

[knowing singed he isn't sure he wants to know exactly how rio was created. he very much doubts now there wasn't something ethically abhorrent to the whole thing.]

Oh... honestly I have just been making do with the bunsen burner and a pot myself. [he takes a moment to seriously consider it before saying,] A pot with a proper lid for slow cooking would be very useful. Maybe a proper frying pan and spatula? And knives, if you don't have any. I have a few I can bring over.

[New list: Bucket List: item 1. Experience the wildest bars imaginable to watch Palamedes go through several stages of shock at once and then try to write a fanfic about it. In the Sixth a very particular wing of the military learns to recite erotic poetry for, hm, diversifying the gene pool reasons when they go off-planet, but bars with fights? Novel! Exciting!]

Oh; I wouldn't have guessed. She's resilient, isn't she. [Fond, while he rests a hand on her sleeping head. Big and pink and eats anything, now this is a Creature. He wonders what the others must be like - little? Maybe green or something? But that's not a curiosity he's dying to have answered, given Rio is already here.

He blinks and looks up from patting her head, to give Viktor a look for cooking on bunsen burners. Sir. Luckily this revelation doesn't come with a tragic horror story of the worst lunch ever made, so he can still chuckle.]

Well, we're both hopeless. I'll ask someone with a real kitchen how to supplement ours; maybe they won't even miss a couple spatulas. [no, he won't. well maybe. probably not.] And a pot with a lid; got it. I have knives.

[please tell him once about the erotic poetry squad, viktor wants to know that exists in some world, thank you. one day they will find reason to go to a wild bar and viktor can in turn learn what fanfic is. this trip probably will not end in any trouble whatsoever. ]

Ah, yes. [viktor answers, smile taking a melancholy edge despite himself because if only that were the case. maybe in certain aspects she is but an unfortunate truth of her mutation was her shortened lifespan, which... yes, did not lead to much of a happy ending when it was all said and done.] It's good she does not eat here though, I have no idea how I would keep her fed. As a child I'd spend a good part of the afternoon gathering the fungi she ate to help keep up.

[she would eat him out of house and home, precious thing. then again, at least there were a lot of mushrooms in these parts.

he gets an innocent look back- what, you don't use bunsen burners for that? he heated up the coffee pot with a blow torch once, it's all about those lifehacks. but yeah, pal is right, they're definitely on the hopeless side here.] Ask them where to find a good collection of spices too, I do not even know what kind this world has. I'm afraid I doubt anyone I know would be able to help.

[it's a sad day when he's the most kitchen savvy of his social group, honestly.]

[Bucket list item 2: tales of the illustrious Thot Corps (not the real name), possibly delivered in a bar while someone is getting punched ten feet away. Nothing can go wrong.]

She's connected to you, so I suppose that has something to do with it. I know it isn't purely symbiotic — you would have to eat far more fruit to keep up — but something something, blood magic, yes? Typical answer for a legitimate question, as is customary.

[That said, the mental image of little kid Viktor mucking around in the fungi to feed his big pet - cute. Still lucky that collecting mushrooms all day isn't necessary here, though.

He adds Spices to his mental list, and adds a subsequent mental footnote to specify Spices That Can Hurt The Stomach, Tasty?, for Viktor's sake. He's putting in the effort.]

I'll get on it. I assume neither of us want to eat anything that secretly has powdered blood in it?

[they both deserve the chance to be the unbearable type of nerds that start doodling notes on napkins for projects instead of enjoying the bar for things like unwinding and making eyes at pretty people. thot corp is just icing on the cake.

viktor never considered that connection, regarding rio curiously as he considers it.] I suppose in essence the summoning of an omen is a spell, so in turn they would be somewhat reliant on whatever fuels our blood magic. Eh... the blood part, I assume. [though it's such an easy, natural process he isn't entirely sure it's as simple as a spell.] Maybe more a familiar? Mages often bind some aspect of their magic into a companion creature.

[he picks up the notebook and makes his way back to the couch, face scrunching at the thought of powered blood.] Eh, probably not. It seems somewhere between a waste and a touch cannibalistic. I suppose that makes squid dishes suspect now. A shame, they are delicious when done well.

[Why make eyes when drawing squids and chemical formulas on the backs of paper placemats is right there? Truly, a perfect outing.]

Could be. They don't appear to drain us of any kind of energy, so manifesting and keeping them out and about don't come from a source, do they? It's more of a causal relationship — we're squid people, so we have these now.

[He's going to call this "causal" and not "nonsense" and learn to live with it. Be a squid person, get an animal familiar. Sure! Sure, why not!

And good, they're in agreement about accidentally eating blood. A waste, though, mmph-]

If I find cinnamon sugar blood powder, I'll bring it home to sift the magic parts out. [he will not do this] You know, I've never actually seen a real squid that doesn't turn into one of us.

[the fighting the hollered curses in the back are basically white noise if you think about it.]

It is one of the few perks, I'll admit. I'm still not entirely certain the new blood counts purely as a perk or not. [he leans towards yes because magic but also giving people a fighting chance to survive actual monsters. then again his blood has mostly made him hallucinate mushrooms and have a cheat sheet for machines which really doesn't help the whole 'don't get eaten' part of the survival process.

this is making him curious in a different way though, this blood powder stuff.] What happens exactly if someone directly consumes sleeper blood? I only vaguely heard of blood ministers using it for healing. [he's not sure if that involves actual transfusions or just gulping down a vial of the stuff or what. maybe none of the above.]

Are they not common in the Sixth? The undercity has ocean access so we get some eh... odd catches. Honestly the sleeper squids are- hm, cuter? I suppose? Than any I have seen. [and look good drawn with glasses.]

[The delightful soundtrack of people getting glasses smashed on their heads, indeed.

Palamedes shrugs - perk is giving the new blood too much credit, in his opinion. Not that darkblood has caused him, personally, any real problems as of yet - it's other people's blood he keeps hearing about going out of control, or giving visions and so on. That, and-]

Corruption at a rapid rate, as far as I'm aware. I dug up some historical accounts months ago, when I was camping out in the Archives — the fastest way to learn about darkblood besides pricking a finger every morning and hoping for the best. D'you know it's supposed to taste like berries? People used to drink it just to drink it.

[Wacky!! This probably means he should be more concerned about vampires, maybe, because those are apparently real - eh.]

The Sixth doesn't have an ocean; I don't know if anything lives in the ice caps outside the Library, but I doubt it. The rest of the planet is a wasteland; I'd never seen any kind of ocean before I was on the First.

[And the First, largely, sucked... he thinks about it for a moment, conceding:] It was pretty. Didn't see any squids, cute or otherwise.

Yes, we are checking the spices for any blood then. [is viktor's immediate answer to that. honestly that's fascinating, the ties between blood, blood pollution and corruption. he could really spiral into a big think about it but tries to remember he's not just sitting alone in the lab like usual.] I wonder if drinking a vial of your own blood would have similar effects. I do not wish to test that and find out, mind you.

[berry flavored blood makes him snort though.] A small wonder things ended the way they did. Mine smells like milk under the moonlight for whatever reason. [berries is still better, in his opinion.] It makes you wonder what this 'vileblood' must be like.

[no oceans? viktor glances over, a little surprised by that. hard to imagine a world without an ocean, and it does start to paint more of a picture.] A wasteland because of the ice? Or is it simply inhabitable at large?

I've always enjoyed going to the docks at home, mostly to watch the ships and see how they worked. I suppose you had spaceships, they wouldn't really be quite as impressive.

Nothing happened to me earlier, although that was only a drop. [He lifts the finger he pricked earlier to wiggle it for emphasis; it's only a touch darkblood stained now, as if he was actually eating berries with his fingers. Whimsical, besides the blood.] But we are simpatico; I'm not going to start drinking blood for fun. Especially not vileblood — I doubt they call it that because it's secretly quite pleasant.

[Gross. He shrugs, then - the Sixth is a strange place, he's gotten that much out of talking to other people here; and from how Trench really does more resemble the First than what he knows of the other Houses. Weird, that.]

It's too hot. The poles don't get enough sunlight to melt clean off — the toss-up is we're sitting in ice. [He never went outside, Viktor, it's been absolutely nuts to go out.] And we mostly looked at the ships through viewscreens, from safely indoors. Let's go to the docks sometime — that's hobby-esque.

Did it taste like berries then? [he can't help but be genuinely curious about that. he also nods- given how much of his own blood he gets in his mouth from the coughing he sort of hopes it isn't corrupting him more too. that'd be an obnoxious insult to add to injury.]

[great, another feeling. watching ships is something he's done since he was a kid, and the fact a passing comment on it has pal interested in seeing it himself is nice. he focuses on the notebook in front of him, running his fingers over the spine like he isn't a little touched as he nods.] That does sound like a good way to clear the head.

But that- hm, so did you live in bunkers like this? [he's starting to gather now just how much this place must be a wild experience for pal.]

Not that I noticed — beyond just having eaten fruit bowl dessert, anyway. [Sooo, maybe? He wants to believe that their own blood is already enough of a corruption source the... normal ways; looking at big butterflies, being out and about around town, etc. without having to worry about errantly licking a drop off a cut finger.]

Right; the Library is completely sealed and temperature-controlled. We have to preserve the integrity of our archives, of course, but the planet's surface isn't exactly friendly to paper either — or to people.

[And so he lives in this bunker here, instead of tacking up blackout curtains over every window in any given typical residence he could have chosen. It's a living. He takes his glasses off to fiddle with them and clean them on his sleeve as he leans his head back again; hello, blurry Viktor-shape.]

Naturally, I don't know anything about proper ships, either. I'll have questions.

Good fact to add to our comprehensive list: allegedly tastes like berries but likely an odd exaggeration from people should not have been tasting darkblood in the first place. [he says dryly. he also notes this is the longest he's seen pal stay in one place since getting here, so well done if that was a goal, rio. it wasn't but she reaps the rewards anyway.

he hums as he imagines a library bunkered deep in some inhospitable place. and here he thought zaun was a good example of a place that is actively trying to kill you a little. at least he could go outside.]

Do you prefer general life in the Trench or at the Sixth? Ignoring duties and companionship. [he asks, curious. he imagines the sixth is only really difficult if you know what you're missing of an outside world but who knows.

he does offer a little smile when he says,] Be careful, I can go on about boat engines. They've been a fixation since I was very young.

God, which list is that? We're going to need bigger paper, too. [Those poster pages with a big sticky strip, he'd be in heaven - they can write "darkblood is not berries" right at the top.

That's a good question, though, and he pauses in his idle ministrations with his glasses for a moment before continuing to fiddle with them. The first thing he thinks is that honestly, sometimes? The sun makes him nervous, but that doesn't mean much for his day to day life in Trench when it doesn't melt anyone.]

I'm used to the Sixth, [he says thoughtfully, after a beat.] Ultimately, I can get used to the differences here. But your specifications aren't fair at all; I prefer the companionship. You're included in that, you know. My list isn't very long, but you're on it.

[He squints again; with his glasses off he can only see about 40% of Viktor's actual expression, but that's enough.]

For as long as I'm still here, I'm afraid you're stuck with me. [annnd glasses back on, hello again] Listening to engine talk is a fair price to pay.

The tall tales and verified facts about blood types list. Maybe just a general list of complaints too, the mushroom business was incredibly annoying after a while. [to be fair he's felt pretty good this month because the constant Moon exposure charging you up a bit is apparently part of the package deal with milk blood for some reason. he would have thought darkbloods would be the one with a whole night thing.

if it becomes a vent list they really will need a bigger piece of paper though. of course pal distracts from all that by refusing to disregard companionship and making viktor's chest do complicated things. the expression he can 40% is a touch surprised but softer around the edges as he shakes his head.]

You are injecting complicated variables into the data pool here. [he's right though, companionship is a massive part of this world and ignoring it is difficult.] Well... my list is incredibly short as well and you've found a prominent spot, so I suppose there is that to consider.

[and he's happy to be stuck with him. his smile is warm when he says,] You may change your mind when you actually have to suffer through it, but until then I'll enjoy a somewhat captive audience.

Oh, complaints we'll need the whole wall for. I'm all for it, to be clear.

[That's just part of the self-care package: the complaint wall. But, ah - turning his own other list against him, he deserves that. He makes an effort to be frank when it comes to things like this - why muddle around the honest truth - so it gets a look out of him that is equal parts warm and pleased with himself, for throwing complicated variables all over the place.

They're probably not that complicated. In the end.]

Prominent? Now I'm really going to get cocky. [haha. it's the mystique.] We'll see, maybe I'll learn to love engine minutiae.

[A beat. Now, not to spoil this little moment they're having, but ah...] My leg has been asleep for at least ten minutes.

I am tempted. I can think of several off the top of my head- the time I lost my crutch to pirates, mushrooms, the fact I cannot look up when outside without perhaps laying eyes on the local soul sucking butterfly population. The fact I have yet to find a place that sells coffee beans. [he starts checking them off with his fingers. to be fair opening it up past bloodtype and there's just an endless array of fuckery to explore.]

Quite. I don't agree to live with just anyone, as it turns out. Very selective. [that's actually very true. there are many people here he considers himself quite friendly with that he would have declined the same offer, not out of dislike but practicality. being able to mesh in the right ways, as it were.

he has to laugh, sitting up properly to nudge rio.] Rio, come on now, he needs that leg. [rio makes a sleepy merp but lifts herself, an impressive yawn before she's readjusting and just curling into a comfy ball but this time without a leg pillow.] Well, if you like it by some miracle I'll next teach you how to make windup boats from scratch.

april catch - all

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me unable to resist. slaps a wrapped bow on this