001 - Rhubarb

[deadly_ned]

[Young Ned was eight years, one hundred and twelve days, ten hours, and twenty-three minutes old when he took a ride on his first boat. It was, he recalled, little bigger than a ferry, and had been a part of a seaside vacation with his mother. The waves had rocked the little boat, the ride was lonely and boring, and his beloved dog, Digby, wasn't there to play with him. Young Ned hadn't liked it. He liked it even less thirty-three minutes later when he promptly vomited over the starboard bow.

It is now fifty-eight minutes and twenty seconds since the Piemaker arrived on the Barge via the mysterious and altogether rather upsetting administrations of the ship's administrator, the Admiral. He was having...difficulty adjusting to the change. And while this boat was significantly larger and more stable than the tiny boat that had rocked so violently all those years ago, he discovered to his unhappiness that the waves, too, had increased in size and threat.]


I think I'm going to vomit.


Which is not to say I'm seasick. I'm not. The boat is stable. Surprisingly. I'm sick because I'm slow to adjusting to change and this is a...big, big change and a new beginning and I do not...I'm not a fan of new beginnings.

Ah.

Hello. My name is Ned. It's um. I would say it's nice to be here but I've just had two different people...sing at me very loudly and that's. Upsetting. And not at all nice.

I will try to make things nicer while I'm here.

Comments

[strangehistorian]

Yes, I'm positive.

[deadly_ned]

Okay. Two days. I can manage two days, although truthfully I have to admit this whole situation lends an ominous start to my time here.

Thank you.

[strangehistorian]

No problem! There are a few things you should know about since you're here; I can drop of a pamphlet at your cabin.

[deadly_ned]

I love pamphlets.

[strangehistorian]

Great! Where are you?

[deadly_ned]

My room. My room on this ship, not my room at home. Although it is starting to look more like my room at home, which would be comforting if I didn't think that this room had killed my room at home and is walking around masquerading in its skin.


....Level 1.

[strangehistorian]

Which number cabin on level one?

[deadly_ned]

Eighteen...?


Eighteen. The, uh. The number of life in Judaism.

[strangehistorian]

Okay!

[And soon, there is a tiny knock at the door. Hopefully those earplugs aren't in yet.]

[deadly_ned]

[The door pulled wide, and the Piemaker found, to his minute surprise, a tiny person to match the equally tiny knock]

Oh.

Hello.

You're. I spoke with you over the...phone. I'm. Ned.

[strangehistorian]

Hello, Ned!

[Chromie raises her hand to shake, angled at about her own shoulder level to make up for the difference in height.]

I'm Chromie! I work in the library here.

[deadly_ned]

Chromie.

[Bending down, the Piemaker took Chromie's hand in his much larger one, shaking, with a partially apprehensive smile on his face that had less to do with who he was meeting and far more to do with the simple act of meeting anyone]

There's a library here? I haven't. I mean. I have a map, I just haven't...looked it over just yet.

Please come in?

[strangehistorian]

Oh, thank you!

[Chromie steps inside.]

Our library is quite extensive! I can understand if you would rather wait until the flood has passed to visit, though.

[deadly_ned]

If you didn't mind..? Floods tend to make me nauseous. Random singing even more so.

You're a librarian?

[strangehistorian]

I am afraid it's something you'll need to get used to. And, yes! I'm also a warden, but between inmates.

[deadly_ned]

Is it hard?

The, um. The graduating. I'm only trying to understand the time frame and the difficulty level involved.