A man chooses, a slave something something (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
obeyseventually) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-12-12 11:50 pm
obeyseventually) wrote in come_sailaway2022-12-12 11:50 pm
Entry tags:
I admit defeat, then I move my feet
Who: Jack and Siffleur, or Jack and YOU
What: Jack coping in various ways, or keeping himself too occupied to remember his history of taking orders.
When: Varying parts of early december
Where: Tommy Bahama, the sports deck, Playback
Warnings: Violence and/or sex for Siffleur's thread, nothing so far for everything else, but warnings will come as needed.
1. Siffleur [closed to siffleur]
Shortly after a conversation with the Captain and a follow-up with Skulduggery, Jack finds himself walking through the ship, his thoughts pacing between two points like an animal in a cage. Sympathy and horror that the Captain was controlled in some way, maybe as directly as Jack was, or maybe not but close enough... But also the reminder that Jack could still, at any time, be forced under someone else’s control again, that while he removed the puppet strings programmed into him in Rapture, that whatever happens on the ship could be purely external, and there’s nothing Jack could do to stop it.
He thought about numbing himself by dipping into the stash he rebuilt since his room exploded, but not only could he see himself wasting half of it to stay consistently drunk long enough for this to fade, he feels kind of awkward about the idea? Like, that’s maybe not a healthy response he should turn to every time he feels complicated about his -- past? Origins? Nature?
So instead, he rides the elevator up to the Promenade and texts Siffleur en route:
Hey, if you’re up for a hunt I’ll be around. Not sure if I feel like trying to completely fight to kill, but you follow your heart (or stomach! 😂) on this one! 👍👍
And just doing that lifts a weight off his shoulders. With his hands in his pockets and his mouth whistling a cheery little tune, he strolls into the Tommy Bahama, right up to the nearest checkout. He takes his pistol and puts it on the counter, as well as his wrench. After a second to think about it, he puts his shoulder bag on the countertop too. No need to waste EVE hypos on this, definitely no need to waste his only health kit, and no need to risk the drinks he brought along either.
Armed with only his plasmids and the need to burn energy, he walks deeper into the Tommy Bahama, and keeps walking until something interrupts him.
2. Fight Club
But earlier in the month, before all that-
Alright, about a month and a half ago, he discovered a tennis ball machine buried under the sports equipment, dug it out, set it up, and stood empty-handed at the end of its serving range. It was nostalgic, in a way, to catch and drop the incoming tennis balls with telekinesis, but eventually the practice was less in his reflex catching and more in perfecting carefully dropping a tennis ball instead of accidentally releasing it like a misfired bullet. Which, you know, still an important skill to have, but not as engaging as he’d like his practice to be.
So early in the month, he shows up at one of the Fight Club meetings with a sign asking people to ‘Throw Literally Any Object At Me’ pinned to his shirt, standing next to a pile of balls and pucks (though he’ll accept any improvised projectile).
3. Sports Deck
The other time he plays with balls - phrasing, pardon him: the other time he practices with telekinesis comes after those awkward conversations, and it isn’t really a concentrated improvement of skill as he does it. He’s just lying on the sports deck, staring up in the sky, and firing a tennis ball into the air. It comes down more or less in his line of sight enough that even if it’s not going to directly fall on him, he can reach out his hand and his mind and draw it back to his palm before it comes close to hitting the ground.
Then he holds his arm straight up into the sky and does it again. And again. And again. Just mindlessly killing time, lost in thought but not thinking at all.
There’s an open bottle of rum beside him, but telekinesis doesn’t use that much EVE, so there’s only a mouthful of it gone so far, and Jack doesn’t really feel like sitting up yet.
4. Playback
Jack predates arcades, so it’s been a reliable place for him to keep himself busy. There’s decades of technology and games to explore in there, and enough variety to keep it fresh for him, for now.
And yet, despite sampling a variety of styles of game through the arcade, today Jack is going through any game with a gun.
They’re not shaped the same and they don’t even come close to the same weight, but the adjustment is easy to make and within the first half dozen shots he adapts to the game’s idea of accuracy.
At that point, it’s over for enemies on the screen. Be they zombies, or aliens, or dinosaurs, Jack hits them as soon as they spring up, again and again and again. The thing is, it’s hard to tell if Jack’s enjoying it.
He’s got a stern, focused look on his face as he works, no hint of a smile at all as he methodically clears through stage after stage of whichever game he’s on. While he doesn’t get a perfect clear every time, he makes it pretty far through each game before he has to start the process over.
Do you think he needs a break? He might need a break.
5. Wildcard
[Jack can also be found getting food pretty much anywhere on the ship that serves it, wandering around the Tommy Bahama, or wandering the decks at night, or anything else you can think of!]
What: Jack coping in various ways, or keeping himself too occupied to remember his history of taking orders.
When: Varying parts of early december
Where: Tommy Bahama, the sports deck, Playback
Warnings: Violence and/or sex for Siffleur's thread, nothing so far for everything else, but warnings will come as needed.
1. Siffleur [closed to siffleur]
Shortly after a conversation with the Captain and a follow-up with Skulduggery, Jack finds himself walking through the ship, his thoughts pacing between two points like an animal in a cage. Sympathy and horror that the Captain was controlled in some way, maybe as directly as Jack was, or maybe not but close enough... But also the reminder that Jack could still, at any time, be forced under someone else’s control again, that while he removed the puppet strings programmed into him in Rapture, that whatever happens on the ship could be purely external, and there’s nothing Jack could do to stop it.
He thought about numbing himself by dipping into the stash he rebuilt since his room exploded, but not only could he see himself wasting half of it to stay consistently drunk long enough for this to fade, he feels kind of awkward about the idea? Like, that’s maybe not a healthy response he should turn to every time he feels complicated about his -- past? Origins? Nature?
So instead, he rides the elevator up to the Promenade and texts Siffleur en route:
Hey, if you’re up for a hunt I’ll be around. Not sure if I feel like trying to completely fight to kill, but you follow your heart (or stomach! 😂) on this one! 👍👍
And just doing that lifts a weight off his shoulders. With his hands in his pockets and his mouth whistling a cheery little tune, he strolls into the Tommy Bahama, right up to the nearest checkout. He takes his pistol and puts it on the counter, as well as his wrench. After a second to think about it, he puts his shoulder bag on the countertop too. No need to waste EVE hypos on this, definitely no need to waste his only health kit, and no need to risk the drinks he brought along either.
Armed with only his plasmids and the need to burn energy, he walks deeper into the Tommy Bahama, and keeps walking until something interrupts him.
2. Fight Club
But earlier in the month, before all that-
Alright, about a month and a half ago, he discovered a tennis ball machine buried under the sports equipment, dug it out, set it up, and stood empty-handed at the end of its serving range. It was nostalgic, in a way, to catch and drop the incoming tennis balls with telekinesis, but eventually the practice was less in his reflex catching and more in perfecting carefully dropping a tennis ball instead of accidentally releasing it like a misfired bullet. Which, you know, still an important skill to have, but not as engaging as he’d like his practice to be.
So early in the month, he shows up at one of the Fight Club meetings with a sign asking people to ‘Throw Literally Any Object At Me’ pinned to his shirt, standing next to a pile of balls and pucks (though he’ll accept any improvised projectile).
3. Sports Deck
The other time he plays with balls - phrasing, pardon him: the other time he practices with telekinesis comes after those awkward conversations, and it isn’t really a concentrated improvement of skill as he does it. He’s just lying on the sports deck, staring up in the sky, and firing a tennis ball into the air. It comes down more or less in his line of sight enough that even if it’s not going to directly fall on him, he can reach out his hand and his mind and draw it back to his palm before it comes close to hitting the ground.
Then he holds his arm straight up into the sky and does it again. And again. And again. Just mindlessly killing time, lost in thought but not thinking at all.
There’s an open bottle of rum beside him, but telekinesis doesn’t use that much EVE, so there’s only a mouthful of it gone so far, and Jack doesn’t really feel like sitting up yet.
4. Playback
Jack predates arcades, so it’s been a reliable place for him to keep himself busy. There’s decades of technology and games to explore in there, and enough variety to keep it fresh for him, for now.
And yet, despite sampling a variety of styles of game through the arcade, today Jack is going through any game with a gun.
They’re not shaped the same and they don’t even come close to the same weight, but the adjustment is easy to make and within the first half dozen shots he adapts to the game’s idea of accuracy.
At that point, it’s over for enemies on the screen. Be they zombies, or aliens, or dinosaurs, Jack hits them as soon as they spring up, again and again and again. The thing is, it’s hard to tell if Jack’s enjoying it.
He’s got a stern, focused look on his face as he works, no hint of a smile at all as he methodically clears through stage after stage of whichever game he’s on. While he doesn’t get a perfect clear every time, he makes it pretty far through each game before he has to start the process over.
Do you think he needs a break? He might need a break.
5. Wildcard
[Jack can also be found getting food pretty much anywhere on the ship that serves it, wandering around the Tommy Bahama, or wandering the decks at night, or anything else you can think of!]