improvise, adapt | mouse & open
[An idea’s been prickling his mind since the storm ended, and after two days of spending all his spare time helping anyone who needed an extra set of hands, he finally has a moment to speculate on it. The sun’s nearing the dimming point where he’ll have to go inside to see properly, but for now he’s perched on one of the low walls that surround the Hub, pencil in hand and notebook open on his thigh.]
[They’ve been exhausting themselves trying to pull things back into shape, and the state of his trousers and arms where his shirt’s rolled up probably speak to how much cleaning and repairs the Col’s needed, both here and on the main buildings. But Pax had done himself a favour by putting more structure around his own stall, leading Mouse to consider bigger, more time-consuming (and improbable) possibilities. There’s no way they could get enough materials to actually cover the whole of the Hub, but in his head it’s there---partly arched beams at the top, like the old shopping arcades he remembered visiting as a kid... Space, but shelter enough that next winter it’ll be easier. Or the next time the heavens decide to open up and let loose on them, they won’t have to do this all over again.]
[And he can’t figure out what it is he’s thinking of, why that shape in his head is so familiar to him, until his eyes drift to the horizon and the boats.] Put a boat on it? That even possible... [He mutters suddenly, then flips to a new page and resumes scribbling. There had to be some old ships that weren’t seaworthy---either here, or at another port---and they could repurpose materials from a hull as a roof, maybe---]
[His Empatheia fails him and he doesn’t even realize he’s not alone until a long shadow falls across the page. Automatically he offers the same line he’s said to everyone else who’s asked if he’s intending to come in for dinner.] Be right in. [Then he looks up, sees who it actually is.] Oh---Sorry. Hi, I mean.