milliways_bar | (no subject)

The book gets some interest from Ellen, who's in close-fitting black armor that comes up to her chin. "Is that for back home?" she says, since it doesn't count as reading over someone's shoulder if they're actively sharing the document with you.

Red looks up and does a double-take, beaming at her. "Ellen!"

It's been quite a while.

"Have a seat. I'm thinking about entering the county fair thing here." Grabbing the flyer he shows it to her.

Ellen grins. "Hi, Red," she says. "Sorry I've been away for a while. Things were busy at home."

Possibly this is putting it mildly.

"I've read about county fairs. Putting pigs on exhibition and things like that?"

Red waves off the apology, "Don't worry about it. You got as much crazy going on as I do." Giant bugs, yetis, it's all the same; minus the post apocalyptic part.

He nods, grinning, "Yeah. Fried food, games, prizes. I've never been to one myself." So of course he's excited about this one.

"I want to give the ribbon thing a try, but can't decide what to grow. I'd like to do one of those colossal pumpkins, but this book says I don't got enough time for that."

"Huh. That's... wow. I've seen pumpkins, but they were all plastic. Big enough for children to carry, you know?" says Ellen, peering at the book. "They were in the stores when the War happened. I think there's a few people back home growing them, but nothing that big."

She considers the options.

"There's... hm. What grows quickly? Carrots, peas, that kind of thing?"

"I always wanted to see if I could chuck one." Because they are a pretty hefty load.

To her suggestion he gives her a look of uncertainty. "Peas and carrots? I dunno, I want something that's gonna win here... "

Suddenly his eyes light up and he straightens up on his seat. "Hey, you got anything from your world I could grow? Y'know, any giant ant vegetables?"

"Well, there's mutfruit," Ellen says after some thought. "They look like blackberries, but they're this big-"

She indicates something that she'd need two hands to hold at the same time.

"And there's punga fruit, but you'd have to be careful with those. The spores make people see things. The fruit gets to be pretty big, though. -- oh, and plants seem to make much bigger fruits and vegetables when we use Brahmin dung for fertilizer, so if you don't mind the smell I can provide that pretty easily."

"Yeah? How long would it take me to grow one of them mutfruits?" he asks.

He wrinkles his nose at the mention of dung, but for the sake of a ribbon it might be worth it.

"How do I do that? Do I just plant the thing in the crap, or is there a trick to it?" Yeah, Red has never kept a houseplant, much less a garden.

"Mutfruit grow pretty quickly," says Ellen. "Especially if you start from the stem of one instead of planting an actual fruit. You cut off a branch and you keep the end in water for a few days, and when it starts to put out little roots in the water, you take it somewhere that has a lot of sun and not a lot of shade and bury it in the ground so all the little roots are under the dirt. While it's still in the water, you'd be digging a hole in the place you want to put the plant and mixing the Brahmin poo with the dirt before putting it all back in the hole. It'd take a couple of weeks to really grow properly, but they start putting out fruit really quickly after that. Just make sure to pick the fruit before bears can come looking for them."

Red listens, tapping on the counter top. "Bar, gimme a-- " he makes a scrawling gesture with his left hand and bar produces a pen and a notepad which Red takes and immediately begins to scribble with.

He scoffs about bears as he writes, "I could take a bear. Poo in the dirt... and water it, right? Does it need a lot?"

"It needs water, but it's not going to need as much as a lot of the plants here," Ellen says. "They're adapted to Wasteland conditions, even if they tend to grow near water holes and moister soil. Cucumbers and things like that need a lot more water, I know that much."

"Okay, that's good." Because chances are he's going to forget watering at least a few times.

"So could you get me one? A twig or stem or whatever that I can start with?" he asks eagerly. "And the crap, I'll need that, too."

"Sure, although I might have to have my friend Fawkes bring it to you," Ellen says. "He's down in the Capital at the moment. The poop I can do without a problem- my cow's on the other side of the door."

"Great, you're the best," Red grins. "And hey, you ever need me to punch more ants in the face or whatever, just lemme know."

He will totally give any mutant insects the beat down for her.

"Sure thing," says Ellen. "Hey, do you by any chance play hockey? Or at least know how to skate and hit things with sticks?"

Red opens his mouth, ready to brag, but thinks the better of it and reluctantly admits, "I can do the one."

Because hitting things with other things including sticks is part of how he rolls. Ice skating, however, isn't on his list of talents.

"You starting a team or something?" Because he would totally put in the work to learn!

"Not exactly? It's, um." She fidgets a moment; this was easier when she was just thinking about it rather than having to actually put it into words. "I'm currently on a mission to what used to be Philadelphia, and the city is ruled by ice gangs who fight each other on skates in front of huge crowds in an arena. Mostly with sticks, but sometimes they drop the sticks and just punch each other a lot. I'm trying to get permanent access to part of the city, and the easiest way to do that without actually going to war with anybody is to set ourselves up as a fighting team like the others, at least temporarily."

Red listens to her describe the situation. When she's done he nods thoughtfully, then breaks out into a grin.

"That's awesome." That totally sounds like Red's kind of town.

Alec notices, in no particular order, the big red demonic looking guy, the book, and the flyer. As it turns out, he owns a very similar book (albeit by different authors) as a boy.

"That looks interesting." By which he means the flier.

Red turns his head when he hears the voice then gives the green guy a once over.

He grunts, either in response to the comment or what he sees, and nods. "If they don't have deep fried Twinkies I'm going to be really disappointed."

"At the fair? I suppose it's possible. I don't recall seeing any at the ones I went to as a kid, but I was busy with my plants." Boy, that was a long time ago.

"I've seen 'em on TV. Food Network does this fried foods show, it's great." And he wants to try it all.

His interest perks at the mention of plants, and he turns on his stool to face the man more.

"You know about this stuff?" he asks, tapping on the book.

"You might say that. A PhD in biochemistry with an emphasis in horticulture, two or three lives ago." Literally. Alec has given up on counting how many times he's died or nearly died. "Any notion what sort of plant you want to enter?"

Red nods, then shrugs his shoulder.

"I wanted to grow one of those giant pumpkins, but I don't have enough time before the fair." So now he's trying to find something else to enter.

"What's the date here?" He knows when it is at home - he can feel the leaves sprouting in much of the Northern Hemisphere. He can feel it here, too, but doesn't think that is necessarily an indicator.

"Early May?" Milliways isn't exactly an easy place to track time in.

Alec rattles off a list of vegetables can grow in two months' time in spring weather in Scotland with a minimum of difficulty. Unfortunately, none would be all that impressive.

They really aren't and Hellboy's expression shows his disappointment.

"Can't I just dump a bucket of Miracle Grow on it and help it along faster?"

"Fertilized wouldn't be cheating, I think. It's not like you're using truly alternative means." Like tapping deep into the Green and accelerating growth.

"Great. You got any other tips?" For once Red is open to advice, especially since it looks like this guy knows a thing or two about plants.

"I might have a few." Which he lists. He has missed just being an expert on plants and not, you know, a plant.

"No offense, but you don't look like the farmer type."