revivalproject | [Open] Log & Network

WHO: Tommy Shepherd, OTA
WHERE: Eli's Diner
WHAT: A message about a change of management and a request for help
WARNINGS: N/A

Network - Video
So I know I was annoying you all on your devices earlier but...

[There's a sigh. Long and drawn out. He looks tired. But he isn't on the island this time. He's in the no doubt familiar diner, though in the back, the kitchen area, trying to sort out items there and his communicator is clearly propped up on something as he works on cutting up some stuff.]

I need help. Apparently Eli never came back from Calibrations. A few other people he knew too. So I guess that means the diner hasn't been running. But I sorta owe the guy for some things, and I'm already working the greenhouse anyway and carrying supplies there so I'm gonna try and take over this too.

Trust me, speedster, I can manage it. I've got the hours in the day. 'Cept thing is, I am not the best cook. So if anyone knows how, please come teach me more than just this whole salad and 'lots of things in a pot' soup? And people who wanna help out here more or who were helping Eli already, please help me? I learn fast, but, like, someone's still gotta show me it?

Cooking Ain't Easy
Thirty hour days were already insane and something Tommy doesn't much know what to do with himself with. When you only need three to four hours of sleep and there are a number of people working in the greenhouse and it's sorta getting more and more in line... Well, Tommy needs more to do. Especially with losing even more people.

So here he was, in the kitchen of the diner, trying to figure out how to do this right. Today's goal for lunch: soup. Salads can be made to order, but soup... Tommy grumbles to himself under his breath as he works on peeling some of the tubers from the greenhouse. They're like potatoes, so you handle them like potatoes, right?

"I'm really starting to regret not accepting Rebecca and Jeff offering to teach me to cook," he grumbles to himself. "Especially noodles."

He needed more hands than his own to do this. And so much more smart people. Hopefully someone actually offered to help out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sansa needs a project aside from being a mother all day and that's what brings her to the diner and helping Tommy. She's learned to cook a bit since being in both the Fleet and here in Temba and she has the advantage of knowing everything about how the plants can be used and which are edible.

When she shows up, she has James in his sling wrapped around her front. She can use her hands but not quite as well as she wants; if only there were an easier way.

"Tommy? I'm here to help you with the diner. I desperately need something to do and I can cook a bit."

Something had gone wrong with Tommy and the Ag point, and he hadn't bothered to try and reinstall it or whatever. He got the knowledge to work the plants, to manage them, what they were for. But once something needed to be eaten more than raw, Tommy's knowledge was literally blank. So life was fun in the experimental kitchen project.

But he smiles to see her, moving immediately to offer Sansa a very gentle hug, trying hard not to squish baby James.

"Hey Aunt Sansa. So relieved, thanks. I hope you know more about cooking than I do. Gotta keep people fe.d"

"I do, actually. I had to learn how over the last few years," Sansa admits. "Because I had always had servants before and it's hard to adjust. I think I can help you with this place, though, because I would hate to see it close. I enjoy my time here."

Sansa thinks it's good for people to have a place to gather together and she's so happy Tommy seems to agree.

"I figured," Tommy admitted. Was it wrong that he'd been so thoughtful about all of this? Probably not. Thinking about other people is probably a good thing.

"We're not going to see it close," he insists, voice firm. "We're going to make it work."

"Oh, no. It won't close. We need a place for people to gather and exchange news and ideas," Sansa says.

"Where I'm from, people do that in taverns. This is the closest thing to a tavern there is."

Taverns. Man, she's really different from his world. Taverns weren't a thing anymore.

"We use the internet for it."

"The internet. I vaguely know what it is," Sansa says. "And that it is similar to our network here. That is the extent of what I know about internet other than wishing we had it in Westeros instead of sending letters by raven."

The Internet was way worse than the network. But Tommy didn’t think that needed said. The depravity the internet offered wasn’t for nice ladies like this.

“Don’t know. Ravens sound cool.”

"I suppose they could be, for those who don't rely upon them. They are particular looking, though, and easily shot from the sky because of it. Couriers can always break trust. Being able to send things through the network is infinitely better," Sansa says.

“Networks can be hacked. Birds can’t as easily,” Tommy counters. Things can be harder for technology worlds than she gets. Or maybe she does get it.

"Perhaps both of the methods have their downfalls," Sansa says, thinking that over.

"I have no idea how you would...hack a network? I guess it's something I would have to ask Tony about."

Everything made has the seeds of its own downfall within it.

"Yeah, he'd know how to do it. Guy knows computers well. Me? I just ignore them mostly. I'm a ready made courier."

"I suppose being able to travel as fast as you can doesn't mean you need anything else to carry a message for you," Sansa says, laughing a bit.

"Should I entrust my correspondence to you, then?"

Well, there are places where Tommy can't carry things to, so yeah, it happens.

"You're more than welcome to. For family, I do favors."

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