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Post by Gena Martin on Dec 28, 2016 17:31:47 GMT
@shiloh Gena was one of the only cooks left. Two, if she wasn't mistaken. Actual cooks that was, trainees not counted yet. It was due to the fact that farm had not yet been discovered and there was the thing with only one survivor on factory - meaning her own mother was dead. Gena, a farm station girl, got lucky when she had been on mecha station when the Ark crashed. It gave her a certain interesting position now, with power she disliked. As one of the ones who actually knew how to store, prepare and save food Gena had to help go to the mountain and the likes.
She had just returned from another supply run, but as most were guards, she was basically left with one other guy to unload and no knowledge if someone was coming to help them. "Okay." Gena announced to her partner in this: "We'll do it this way: We unload this truck first. The supplies in there need cooling. Next is the grains. They need to be kept dry. And then art." At the subsequential why Gena rolled her eyes. It was becoming sort of her catch line. Art does not damn go bad. Food does. Food was more important. "Just do it." She rolled her eyes again, looking around, desperate for some actual help.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 28, 2016 23:13:05 GMT
It was taking some work getting used to answering to adults again. True, there had been adults in Mount Weather, but the safety there had been so short lived that it hardly even counted. Things were different at the crashed Ark station. There was a government now, a way of doing things, and kids who had gotten used to fending for themselves had to go back to being treated as kids again. Except it was hard to just reintegrate back into society after everything that had happened. Too much had changed. Shiloh wasn’t sure about the others, but it was taking her some time to readjust. Especially since she didn’t really know where she fit into things anymore.
She hadn’t drifted toward the guard like so many of the delinquents. She had seen more than enough of fighting. Instead she had gotten permission for a medical apprenticeship. But she was still too new to do much. Mostly she just kept track of inventory and watched the real doctors take care of simpler cases. In short, she didn’t feel very useful right now. And Shiloh very much needed a sense of purpose, needed something to keep her busy. She needed the distraction, both from what she had been through in Mount Weather and from the fact farm station was still missing, along with her mother. So she had taken to helping with whatever odd jobs she could find around the camp. Anything to pass the time.
Today there was a group bringing back supplies from Mount Weather, so Shiloh was headed for the unloading point to see if she could be of any use. The trucks had already arrived when she got there. She jogged the rest of the way, eager to get her hands moving. She came to a halt beside a young woman who was looking rather desperate next to the amount of supplies. “Hey! Need a hand?” They certainly looked like they could use it.
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Post by Gena Martin on Jan 18, 2017 17:19:10 GMT
Need a hand? Finally someone was here to offer help. Gena looked at the girl. She wasn’t the biggest muscle pack, but any help would do and maybe there was hidden strength in her. “Two would be preferable, actually.” Gena laughed. She really could use all the hands she needed. And brains! She could really use brains in here. “The stuff in there is food, we have to get them to cooling immediately. That box has to be brought to the storage section, dry. And of course the art, but that can wait, obviously.” She hoped the girl would know why. If she did she would immediately become the most helpful of all of them.
“I’m Gena by the way. I think I saw you around before, actually.” But that wasn’t actually hard when one manned the bar usually. Most people just had to pass through the hangar. It was next to inevitable to go through it. All the most important things were stored in there. Whatever supply was needed, it, one way or another, ended in the hangar and so Gena saw most of the people of Arkadia that way.
@shiloh
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Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2017 1:23:03 GMT
Two hands. Funny. A small grin crept across Shiloh’s face at the woman’s joke. “I think I can manage that.” She held up both her hands, wiggling her fingers as if to prove the point. Some of the boxes looked heavy, but Shiloh could make do. She was stronger than she looked. Not by much maybe. Enough though. A person didn’t make it this far on the ground without building up a little muscle. Carrying supplies and running from Grounders would do that. The woman (the bartender, if Shiloh wasn’t mistaken) gave some quick instructions, and Shiloh nodded along. “Food first, then art. Got it.” It made sense. People couldn't eat art. But the other guy made some muffled comment about priceless artifacts. Shiloh shrugged in response. “It already survived a nuclear apocalypse. A few more minutes can’t hurt.”
There didn’t seem to be anyone else coming to help. No matter. That just meant it would take a little longer. Although not so long that there wasn’t time for quick introductions. “I’m Shiloh. I’m in here sometimes with the other teenagers.” Shiloh had never been the most social person, but after everything that had happened, the company of the other delinquents was easier than the adults around her. It wasn’t unusual to find a group of them in here in the evenings. Sometimes Shiloh was with them, and sometimes she was hanging around the piano listening to Mac play. It was nice having his familiar face around. “You work at the bar, right?” Shiloh wasn’t much of a drinker. Side effect of living with her father for so many years. She could, however, appreciate that most of her friends liked to drink socially. Besides, Gena seemed nice enough. Shiloh stepped over to one of the biggest boxes, part of the category Gena had deemed most important, and nudged it to test the weight. Definitely needed two people. “Want to start with this one?” Bigger box meant more food, and therefore greater priority. Gena Martin |
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Post by Gena Martin on Jan 26, 2017 17:05:44 GMT
“Actually it didn’t. It was stored in Mount Weather. The art wasn’t in contact with the nuclear apocalypse. And Mount Weather maintained it in perfect condition.” That was what Mount Weather once was made for after all, to maintain and safe life and art, to safe a culture that was now in the past. And he culture they saved became distorted and cruel. But they tried. “I know. I saw you around sometimes.” And Bellamy and the others spoke of the delinquents. She heard quite a lot of the various ones. But she was usually busy or distracted by someone else to pay too much attention to the delinquents unless they directly involved her in a conversation. There were some she was more involved with, some how she never even talked to.
“Yeah. That one contains fresh fruit, we will have to separate them. Citrus can’t stay with the rest. Apples should be removed and the likes.” But that was details only the farm kids would know and that could wait until everything was safely stowed away. Gena pulled one handle up, leaving the other for her and moved, to go to the direction of storage. With someone actually listening to her this might become easy after all. “Have you handled food in some way before?”
@shiloh
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Post by Deleted on Feb 8, 2017 2:15:06 GMT
The woman offered a correction, and Shiloh reached up to rub the back of her neck. “Right. I just meant it won’t go bad like…” She gave her head a small shake. “Never mind.” The point was that the art wouldn’t decay. Or at least, not at the same rate as food. But she had gotten ahead of herself in her rush to do something useful. Hopefully her foot would keep itself out of her mouth for the rest of this. “Yeah, I’ve seen you too.” There was that same awkwardness. Gosh darn it, why couldn’t she talk straight around strangers? This wasn’t even about anything serious. Shiloh tried to smile, hoping it would cover her faltering social skills. Fruit. Wow. Shiloh was still getting used to fruit. There hadn’t been anything quite like it on the Ark. Shiloh took hold of the other handle and kept step beside Gena as they hauled the crate away from the vehicle. Did picking plants at the dropship count? “Not really. A few plants, but that's about it.” She glanced across the crate at Gena, hoping that wasn’t some kind of deal breaker here. “But I’m a fast learner.” That much was true. And either way, she could still help carry boxes. Gena Martin |
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Post by Gena Martin on Feb 16, 2017 16:49:51 GMT
Well plants was close enough. At least they would have shown her that those things were fragile. Not like other sources of food. Some could tip over at any moment. And that was more dangerous than people realized. Mold could kill people. Granted, it could also save people. But that was not the point. “Okay, plants are close enough. Fruit and vegetables are plant.based resources after all. Usually, when attached to the plant still, fruit can stay fresh for a long time. But once away from the plant that changes. Some range from mere days of freshness to weeks. All of that can be prolonged exponentially if we put them into cooling. Some will have to be cooked and canned in a vacuum. That was they will survive for months.” But that would be her job. She knew how to do it, along with one or two others.
“The orange and yellow ones need to be put to one side, away from the others. During ripening they create fumes, which will age up the others. Citrus fruit. All with the similar skin need to go to one side. If you see anything weird on any of them, you should tell me.” Immediately actually, but they would be fine. They would store what they had until she had time to conserve it.
@shiloh
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