come_sailaway | Country roads, take me home

Entry tags:

Country roads, take me home

Who: Steven Grant and open - start your own subthreads and stuff
What: Studio Ghibli movie night
Where: Cabin 135
When: early December
Warnings: none so far

After subjecting Marc and Maeve to Ghibli nights, Steven has widened his circle of suffering to include a few other people. What was going to be 'come over and watch My Neighbour Totoro?' became a proper whole evening at Steven and Marc's cabin. They spent the afternoon tidying up the room, returning a bunch of library books and keeping the rest of his stash in a corner on the other side of the bed. Clean laundry put away, a small load of dirty clothes taken down to the wash. The ankle cuff and bungee cord is stashed away in the cupboard alongside their small emergency hoard of water, snacks and food in case they have to lock themselves in their cabin one day for weeks on end. Bathroom tidied up as well, with extra toilet paper stacked on top of the cistern in anticipation of several guests.

The cabin is still small in spite of their cleanup efforts, and Steven insists on having some snacks available, so for savoury options there's baby carrots and celery sticks with hummus dip, potato skins, kumara fries and cassava chips, and mango sticky rice and pan fried cinnamon bananas for something sweet. It's not exactly going to be the healthiest night in terms of food, but half a dozen people sitting knee to knee in a claustrophobic little cabin crying at children's anime is surely going to make up for that and be healthy for all of them.

The programme for the night is Steven's Studio Ghibli box set, although he only has one DVD player and one television so they need to pick their movies wisely since they'll only be able to watch two or three. They're always welcome to come back next time to watch more. Steven's recommending more Kiki's Delivery Service and Princess Mononoke, and less Grave of the Fireflies and When Marnie Was There. They don't really want to be crying into their bowl of vegan snacks every 15 minutes...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Honestly Steven wasn't expecting such a turnout. He thought most people would laugh at him about watching stupid children's cartoons and maybe only Maeve and Sharky would show up. Maybe Ruby too, if he was lucky. This is quite a lot of people to fit into a cabin and Steven at times is fine with the chaos of refilling food and bringing drinks - he forgot his guests would need drinks, oops - and at times he needs to have a breather out in the corridor on his own. Especially when they get to an emotional part of the movie, it's so silent you could hear a pin drop, and then everyone is just trying not to cry and then it's awkward because offering tissues is like noticing they cried and compromising peoples' masculinity or whatever so it's like. He doesn't know whether to offer or just let people pretend they're yawning or sniffling because it's too cold or what to do.

"Hey," he greets Maeve quietly when she steps out to join him in the corridor. He's spent so much time wringing his hands in the hem of his shirt that it's now full of creases. "Everything okay? Can I get you anything? I'm about to go fetch some macaroni and cheese, and chicken tenders for Marc. Maybe you know a bottle Mexican coke and some Jim Daniels..." He seems kind of stressed with all these people in what should be their private little space and Steven feels bad about it. Some comfort food that's meant for people under the age of 12 should help pick him up.

Maeve's noticed Steven stepping out at intervals, happy to give tissues silently before making her way out to check on him. It seems like, even if it is a good thing, it is a touch overwhelming for him and she wants to make sure he's managing well enough and not overly stressed.

"Hello, darling." She notes the wrinkles in his shirt and steps a little closer, shutting the door behind her as she does. "I'm fine. I'm not worried so much about me." She carefully reaches out, fixing his shirt as best as she can before reaching for a hand. Something to do with one should perhaps help. "I'll come with you, then. I can carry a few things back if necessary." She lets a moment pass as she tries to think of a way to say this. "How are you handling everything? It is quite a few more people than usual. Perhaps next time we can find out who controls the pool screen. Then, if someone's crying, they can claim it was the water. And then perhaps your poor shirts can get some relief." A little light teasing, maybe.

He manages a small smile and squeezes her hand. Far be it from him to deny her the opportunity to be helpful, even if he might be able to manage if he can find a tray. Anyway she can help out more with what Marc might want to drink, even if Steven is feeling apprehensive about handing him alcohol. He doesn't automatically assume bad faith or that Marc couldn't handle a tiny drink, but he can't wean him off this coping mechanism if he's actively encouraging it either.

"Mmmmmmyeah, I-- didn't think this many people would be interested," Steven admits. She's done a great job fixing up his shirt and he gives it a little tug downwards to straighten it out as well before squeezing her hand again. It's just as well it's only the ~~three~~ two personalities in Marc's fractured head. Otherwise he imagines it'd be a bit like the current state of the cabin and it would be so overwhelming and cramped, especially if they're all jostling for control. "I'll ask Miss Friday, if she's available, if we could use the pool next time."

He starts towards the stairwell and he finds he's able to breathe a little better once they're further down the corridor, and the albeit fake night breeze weaves between the rails and washes over them as they traverse the open side of the ship.

"Thank you for coming! Even if-- you're not interested and just wanted to be here. I know Marc isn't remotely interested at all. For some reason he didn't want to spend the night drinking at the pub and leave me alone to man our cabin? I'll bet he's regretting that now."

Maeve smiles. "Well, I knew Sharky was. We talked about it some last month. When he was helping me to feel a little more comforted. We were both dealing with the backlash of the possession stuff." The cuddling was nice and she'd do it again. They were friends and sometimes it was nice to just lie next to someone for a while and let yourself relax. "So I'm not terribly surprised myself."

She looks over at him, walking alongside him. "Darling, I enjoy them. They are so unique and whimsical. I do not know very much about such things, but they make you happy and that's all that matters." She lightly squeezes his hand. "Marc cares for you as well. You can see it on his face. Even when he's pretending to be terribly put out about cartoons."

There's a soft laugh at that. "If he bothers you about it, I'll make sure to give him my best disappointed look." She's quiet for a moment. "I am happy to be here with you, Steven. So never worry about that. Okay?"

"I think you can feel better after having a good cry." He knows that it stresses Marc out but he's had a few good cries during his time on the ship and while they can't exactly snuggle in bed and have Marc comb through his curls between his fingers watching anime together tonight, he's quite enjoying the act of sharing something he likes with people on the ship.

"It can't be worse for you than downing a whole bottle of whiskey, anyway." Steven worries about him in return too, and he's afraid that the way he shows his concern is driving Marc away little by little, but he doesn't know how to fix that.

Pausing when they get close to the stairwell, but standing out of the way of the main flow of human traffic, Steven turns to take both of Maeve's hands.

"I appreciate your being supportive, and keeping him out of trouble." When she's not. Straddling and strangling and doing weird sex things with him anyway! Not that that's any of Steven's business. "It's that time of year, you know. Being especially grateful and keeping friends and family close." He lowers his gaze and swallows, brushing his thumbs over her knuckles. "I'm happy to be here with you too. And I hope you feel like you can tell me anything. I know I do. I tell you all sorts of things." And not just about rocks and beetles, either.

"I know we're not in the best place. Or surrounded by the best people. And that we're all just trying our best to make sense of all this nonsense. But it doesn't mean that none of what we do here matters or we don't matter to each other or that nobody appreciates the efforts."

“Yes. I suppose you can.” Her voice is soft, more fondness than anything else.

“Nothing happens if I do it,” she replies. “But, yes, I do see how it could be concerning for most people.” Marc included. She assumes that comment was about Marc anyway.

The pause and his holding both of her hands seems mostly new. She doesn’t mind, though. It makes a small sort of fluttering like humans always say happens for them. Especially with the way his thumbs brush over them.

She’s trying to figure out what to say exactly. He’s being so sweet and kind like he usually is. Which is…nice. “Most of what I have to talk about is, unfortunately, possession things. And none of that is terribly cheerful or easy. But I’m sure you know about that with Marc. Some of it anyway.”

She hums thoughtfully. “I have plenty of people that I know I can rely on. And I know I can count on you. Even if things have been…a lot since last month.”

Marc... wasn't the one who asked Steven out on that date. Or the one who took Steven to bed. Or made out with him. Steven's still trying to process that, mostly on his own because he doesn't want Marc to get upset. But it is upsetting and he has a feeling that not talking about it is leading Marc to believe that they did other stuff (which they didn't) or that he likes possessed Marc more (which he. Doesn't think he does. But he was. A lot more emotionally available, and... Steven kind of liked bits and pieces of that rather than constantly getting stonewalled and shut out.)

"Let's not talk about Marc," Steven says with a deep breath and a sigh.

"Let's talk about what you want to talk about. We can sit in the Windjammer for a wee while. The room won't implode without us, I don't think."

Maeve nods. It seems like such an unusual situation. She's never known either of them to not want to talk about one another. But she can deal with that if he wants to set a boundary for the conversation.

"Of course, darling."

She squeezes his hands. "Are you trying to hide from your room for a moment?" She peeks at him for a moment. "Or is it just trying to get more time with me?"

It's more that he wants to give her space to talk about herself, what she's been up to lately, how she's feeling and all that, and not distract her with Marc talk. Of course Steven could talk about Marc for hours on end but. He could honestly do that with Marc.

"'tis a little crowded in there," Steven admits. "I'm used to crowds. Gets worse in the tube during rush hour. But it's not like everyone's ignoring each other. Maybe everyone sitting together watching Ghibli is a wee bit emotional." But at least they're not fighting each other or arguing or doing the kinds of things the Captain would want them to do if he gathered up a crowd and tried to turn them on each other.

"Can't imagine anyone complaining about more Maeve time though. I'm just. I know you stay with a young lass. I'm not sure you're as free to talk to her about the things that are bothering you as Marc and I are with each other." Clearly having an Emotional Support Steven has worked out a bit for Marc. Maeve can have her own Emotional Support Steven for a little while tonight.

Maeve hums thoughtfully. "And the tube is...like a train." She's been on something like the tube in Westworld before. It's been a while since then. "But they seem to be enjoying themselves anyway."

There's a small laugh. "I stay with Maximilien. I guess we don't really talk about our feelings the majority of the time, though." And that's well enough. She likes Max all the same. "Both of us being inorganic does help things, I think. In general." They both have similarities and vast differences. But that's the nature of things. "I would be mildly put out, all the same, if you complained about more time with me."

She lightly tugs at his hand, letting one go so they can move again. "I have enjoyed every second I've had with you. Even when you ran screaming from me the first time we met. I hope we'll have more time together." Ava told her she ought to be more obvious about her feelings, but it's more difficult than she really expected.

"Oh, yes, sorry love. It's the underground train system in London. Not the best public transport in the world, but, you know. It's pretty old. The occasional problem here and there is to be expected really..." It's so easy to forget that she's not local, with her accent.

"I think that's interesting. Maybe it's not accidental and Friday grouped us up with someone she thought we'd get along with." He hasn't heard of any major disastrous incidents with completely incompatible people sharing rooms, but he could be wrong.

Thinking back to the time when they met makes him blush a bit. He didn't think it was an overreaction... he really thought she was in a spot of trouble and-- and he might be a little hung up over a certain kind of modesty that she's probably not used to, in Westworld.

"We will," Steven promises. "I don't think I'm going anywhere. Not with my luck anyway." And honestly he's not as upset about being here as he should be. Most of his needs are catered for. He's got Marc and, he's got friends. A growing pile of them even, in the cabin right now.

"Did you have any plans for the um, holidays? I mean I suppose there's no difference here, but. We're getting close to the end of the year, y'know. Christmas or Hanukkah or wha'ever."

"Ah, yes." She nods. It sounds like something that likely was not quite as good as the technology she's experienced herself. Even if it was a very short time that she's experienced it.

"It's likely not an accident. I suppose I'm at least relieved because I think I would really have been on edge rooming with a human starting out." She was already on edge just being around them in general, so it helped to know there were others like her on the ship. "But I'm much more comfortable now." Just to clarify.

"I don't think any of us are likely particularly lucky in that respect." But she's certain she'd prefer somewhere else with less murder. A place to build more of a life than a murderous cruise ship in the middle of a false sea. A hope for knowledge of her daughter. Anything that could make being here less...what it is now.

"No. I've never actually celebrated any of the holidays, honestly." She shrugs slightly. "Did you have plans?" Even she's frustrated with herself at this point. "I'd like to have plans with you. If you'd like that, too." Is that direct enough?

"Oh, yes, of course! I'm trying to-- well. I was just thinking. Of doing something special, try to get Marc to enjoy bits of Hanukkah." He doesn't have a fully thought out plan yet, but he doesn't like the idea of leaving Marc to stew over unpleasant trauma when it should be a nice time.

"You could come over and spend some of Hanukkah with us," Steven offers. He doesn't expect her to come over everyday or spend the whole week with them or anything. "It'll be just the two-- um, three of us I mean. Not like now." Usually she would have gotten Steven and Marc bundled up in one maladaptive package but this year, she's getting a one for two special.

"And if nobody else is inviting you anywhere else, which - I highly doubt it, honestly, I'm sure you'll be in high demand - we could. Maybe do something together. Just between us. If you like. I mean don't feel. Obligated or put out or anything, you don't have to..." Steven chews his bottom lip, the urge to twist his hands in his shirt flaring up again. Rocks and beetles were much easier conversation topics.

Maeve nods. "Just tell me how you celebrate and I'll be there." Cause she's never really learned about Hanukkah. But whatever it is, she's sure that it will be fun to spend time. And she's going to just accept that this wasn't about revealing emotions together, so she'll just...she's just going to deal with that.

At least until he keeps talking and...Oh, fuck it. "Please tell me this is you asking me on a date for once." Because she's so unsure that it is. Him acting awkward and uncomfortable is almost never a sure thing to go off of because he's always acting awkward and unsure of himself. "Because if it isn't then I..." A beat. "Well, you can consider this me asking. For a change. You don't have to say yes, of course."

Oh.

Oh dear.

She's-- oh. With-- him? A date? With Steven Grant? Like. This month? Is she sure she's got the right one? He knows he can be easily mistaken for Marc.

For a moment he looks a little stunned, lips parted, eyes wide, about half a second away from doing his best goldfish impression. He blinks once, twice, then time seems to start again.

"Yes." Well, no, he wasn't asking her out on a date date, but now there will be flowers and chocolates on top of standard holiday paraphernalia. But yes, he wants to go out with her. He can't imagine anyone turning her down.

"Yes. I like you." She's just. An 11 and he's like a 5 4. "You're, like, one of the smartest, most amazing women on this ship." In case Friday is listening because you know he doesn't want to play favourites and get flung overboard. "You've been strong and kind and sensitive and-- I'd be just so blessed. To spend an evening or a day or-- whatever, with you."

She is quite certain she's gotten the right one. Truthfully, she has a crush on both of them, but she's...not certain what that means for them or this at this point.

But his surprised expression is rather adorable in a way. She glances down, hiding an amused look behind a curtain of hair.

"Yes." She's parroting the word back to him because it feels mildly surprising.

"And here I thought I was potentially imagining things because I wanted them to be true." She smiles a little at the next words, feeling a little warmth in her cheeks. "I think we can come up with something." A hint of a smile as she looks over at him. "You shouldn't sell yourself short either. You're kind and sweet and occasionally painfully unaware of things. I feel like I've been casually waiting for you to notice." She looks down again. "I was rather certain no one...noticed me in that way on the ship, truly." There's a shrug. "Or, perhaps it is just that no one seems capable of telling me if they are. Ava said I should be more forthright with...everything."

"No, you're not." Imagining things, that is. Steven is both nice that he would say nice things regardless of how he personally felt about her, but he's also interested in spending more time with her, getting to know her better, making her happy.

"I just. I mean you have a boat full of options, and I think you're selling yourself short too if you think otherwise," he points out sheepishly. He, much like the vegan corner in the buffet, is used to being slim pickings.

"I'm going to hug you now, if you don't mind." Hopefully she won't feel as murderous as the Captain about it. "And reassure you that everyone notices you in that way on the ship. And I don't mean in a-- weird... sexy object sort of way." Before she gets any misconceptions, because yes, they have eyes, they can see for themselves, and maybe once upon a time she had been built with that kind of rather limited purpose in mind, but here, she's so much more than that.

Maeve laughs softly. "I may have a boat full of options, but..." She shrugs. "I seem to like the oblivious or painfully avoidant ones. I was a lot more forceful with Hector, but I guess I didn't want to cause any discomfort." Because Steven is also fairly sensitive in a way and she likes that about him...but worries that she's not the sort of person that he's used to either.

"I don't mind, darling. You can hug me whenever you like." This gains him another laugh. "Well, thank you for the assurances. I'm not terribly bothered if someone does see me in a sexy manner. Perhaps not as an object, though." But it's amusing all the same. It's sweet that he's concerned about it enough to reassure her of it. "As long as you're honest with me, I think we'll be fine."

"I try to be!" Except, you know, when he thinks that telling a white lie or a lie by omission is better than the really ugly truth. Like, for example, confronting Marc about what really happened when he was possessed... or not telling him what he had found out with Deputy Pratt when they confronted the Captain before Marc found out for himself in the black binder...

He hasn't tried to 'protect' Maeve in the same manner, to be fair. He doesn't feel like he fulfills the same function for her as he does for Marc. Like-- he wasn't. Made up for her for that reason, or whatever, however stupid and irrational that thought might be. She probably doesn't have to worry about him pulling the same stunt.

Giving her a hug that lasts for a couple seconds, Steven pulls back and flashes her a small smile.

"Should we pick up some alcohol, d'you think? On our way back? Or would that be a bad idea for tonight?"

Maeve smiles a little as she looks at him. "And I do appreciate that." She looks down briefly. She doesn't really feel that she needs any sort of protection, but she understands that some do.

The hug is nice. She's getting used to the hugs here. "I could get used to more hugs," she says after a moment. "I haven't had so many of them before I got here, honestly." Which is true enough.

"Hm," she says after a moment. "We are supposed to be keeping him honest, aren't we?" There's a long pause. "Perhaps exactly one drink. That should be okay and won't mean he's getting out of control."

He thinks he's got plenty over the years, but. None of that was real. It's actually quite nice now that he's separate from Marc, and they're free to exchange hugs. Marc could use quite a few as well. Steven would gladly offer hugs, as long as there's no violence in return.

"Alright. One drink sounds fair. Maybe you could pick it out once we've got the food, seeing as you know what he likes." If it's up to Steven he'll end up getting a glass of wine or something. Strictly speaking, it's also a drink, but it won't be the one that Marc wants.

They make it to the buffet, finally, and thankfully it's quiet enough that no one would kick up a fuss about Steven and Maeve grabbing plates of comfort food. Steven wrinkles his nose at all these carbs, all this dairy, all the ultra-processed meats. Why does Marc like children's food... At least he's fetched enough meals for Marc by now to not feel queasy about all these questionable food choices.

"Was Mister Maximilien... affected by all the unpleasantries?" Maybe Maeve would be more willing to talk about her own experiences if they talk about her roommate first and then segue to her.

Maeve is not gonna violence him, so he’s safe.

“I’ll choose something. Of course.” Maeve is fairly certain that wine is not the way to go, but she’s also certain he’d accept anything Steven brought back to him.

Maeve glances over at the faces Steven is making and laughs. “Something wrong with the food, darling?”

At the question about Max, her expression softens a little. Mister Maximilien. She’s going to tell him about that one. “Not directly, no. But indirectly, yes. Since I was not myself. We’ve talked about some of what happened. But he didn’t know everything that happened.” Her expression shifts again. “I- she killed Phil. Cut his wing off and…” She frowns. “We haven’t spoken but a few texts and a short in person conversation since.” It’s obvious that it bothers her. “I don’t know everything she did. I don’t remember.”

"I don't understand how all this dairy doesn't make everybody want to just hog the toilet all the time. And you can't even see any trace of chicken in chicken nuggets. Cooked chicken meat is supposed to look-- stringy or wha'ever. God only knows what's actually in them." It's probably not actually possible that Steven is lactose intolerant and Marc isn't. Not when they have shared the same body in the past, although with all the months that have passed, they are starting to look different now. Although he tends to prefer baggier clothes, Steven and his love of lounging around with his favourite book has clearly lost some of Marc's hard-earned muscle.

"I see." This is a difficult one, as everyone might have only had fleeting encounters with her at one or two points throughout that time, and won't be able to give her the full picture of everything.

"You know I-- used to get blackouts. We both did, Marc and I. We'd lose chunks of time and wake up somewhere else, having lost a day or three, and not knowing what happened, how we got there, who we might have done what with. It's really terrifying, especially when we know that we've hurt people. But, say you manage to piece everything together. What would you do with all that knowledge? You can't change what she did. You can't exactly apologise and say, I know she did that, but that wasn't me, but I'm sorry either way, unless you want to make everyone feel worse about it. If knowing is just going to make you feel guilty, and terrible, and there's nothing you can do about her, then maybe you don't have to go down this neverending rabbit hole of trying to figure out everything and anything that's happened during that time. Maybe it's alright, to accept that bad things have happened, and you weren't in control at the time, and it's happened to a lot of people. While you don't know about them yet, you'll just deal with them as bits and pieces from the fallout start coming to the surface, and that's not a reflection of who you are, or your unwillingness to face the truth."

Maeve laughs softly. "Well, some people just like different things. I've tried almost everything at least once." She doesn't have any real hang ups about food, but then...she doesn't really have the same social experiences as others do. "I guess it doesn't matter if he likes them?"

She nods a little as he starts talking about the blackouts. She frowns a little. She's only ever lost memories without knowing about it, but this is the first time that she's just...never regained memories of it afterwards. "I'm sorry you've experienced them." Not that she can change that for them. Though, as he keeps talking, her gaze falls. She knows he's not wrong, but it doesn't help the desire to know everything that happened so she can know the fall out that she's dealing with. "I just...I'd rather know if something happened so I know if there's going to be some level of awkwardness involved. I can deal with it if there is. I can handle the guilt of it if I have to."

It doesn't make it easy. "I don't know."

Not knowing is one of the hardest parts of being... sick? Unwell? Mentally different from everyone else? It all sounds so judgemental and negative when, for the most part, it hasn't really been that bad. They've learned to work as a system. There's a lot left to figure out but it's just a different way of being. Marc just-- needs some patience, some love, that's all.

"I'm sorry I don't have all the answers." Steven shrugs as they get to the bar to pick up Marc's drink on their way back. "I wish someone did. I think it's important to take stock of how you feel, and not focus so much on what she did to other people, how she made them feel. Maybe you're-- fixated on her so that you don't have to deal with yourself. That's not-- exactly healthy, either. This is something traumatic and violating and wrong that happened to you too, not just something someone masquerading as you has inflicted upon others."

hope a wildcard is okay

totes

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post and pray, here we go

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