You must fix your heart

[saltwaterlungs]

CHARACTERS: Darcy and probably someone
DATE: it's (already) May
LOCATION: Various
SITUATION: Depressed teenager has a normal time
WARNINGS: None yet!

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame (Skulduggery)

In this moment, after Fio’s hugged Sparkles and everyone seems to be wrapping up the arguments and the… frankly inexplicable tea table (??? who does that?) Darcy is reminded of how badly she had wanted a threat to be able to punch. Sparkles, another undeserved recipient of begrudging mercy, was not that. All she’s got is adrenaline and pain and potentially some more bruised relationships than she had at the start of the day. So y’know. Tuesday. 


She’s already back at her room by the time Skulduggery messages, at her limit of human contact before she disembowels someone, and by the time he arrives she’s doing what she was doing when he texted; which is to say, biting into her arm through her hoodie sleeve to muffle her screaming.

Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain (Meta + Ruby)

Darcy had been expecting some sort of sense of real triumph when all was said and done. But as it always goes, there's no ticker-tape parade when it's over. The Captain's back, Sparkles is somewhere, her friends are safe, she's… fine. The ship will just go back to business as usual. And she will too, eventually; back to the endless loop of training and more training and different training and finding ways to pass the time in between waiting for… something. What is she even waiting for, now? The excursions aren’t lethal anymore, the most recent threat to the ship has been dealt with, and they still can’t leave and... She’ll get back to it, honestly, it’ll all go back to the way things were, into the comforting rhythm of routine. She just… needs a minute.


Darcy passes out for about a day. 


When she drags herself back to consciousness through drool and the pattern of pillow crease pressed into her face, she suddenly remembers her discussion with Ruby; and if she’s lying around feeling bad for herself, she has the time to do it to benefit someone else, so Ruby gets a text that is valiantly attempting to not seem frantic.


you still up for depression day?

Now, if your convictions were a passing phase (Kitchens + OTA)

Honestly, Darcy kind of worries she’s dreaming when she spots them for the first time. Just like December: the bright gleam of industrial steel, the smell of a kitchen freshly cleaned, a good array of knives. Not amazingly well-stocked, she’ll have to hope the Easter-Erda delivers her some of ingredients or equipment she notices are lacking (seriously, what sort of kitchen doesn’t have a rice cooker or orange oil), but literally anything is better than nothing, and it irritates her to no end that she’s going to have to thank the Captain for it.


So find her;


A) Making a batch of bread-rolls to test out the oven with: in the process of kneading, proofing, or waiting for them to finish baking.

B) Throwing together lunch for herself: cutting up vegetables, kneading pasta dough, reading a book of Christina Rosetti’s poetry while waiting for pasta to finish cooking, whisking a sauce together, and eating by herself on the floor in the corner.

C) Making a bigger meal at dinner to share: peeling potatoes, cooking off onions and garlic, browning meat, doing stretches on the floor while waiting for the food to finish cooking in the oven.

D) Or most commonly between meals: cleaning. Sharpening and washing the knives, wiping down the benchtops, doing the dishes, mopping the floors while levitating a few inches above it. It’s the first taste of real sanity she’s been able to find in… definitely since the labyrinth, probably since she arrived. Do not step on her clean floors or risk getting the mop shoved somewhere delicate.

May your ashes feed the river in the morning rays (Gym + OTA)

She imagines that a caged bird being freed feels the same way as she does setting up the treadmill. Darcy is a well-tuned machine that needs to be in motion, which is sufficient motivation to ignore the risk of getting cornered by someone in the gym again (thanks for that anxiety, Clarke,) and actually go to train during the day. Like some sort of animal.


Between the treadmill, deadlifts, one-armed push-ups, rowing machine, and the intensity with which she’s hitting the punching bag, an observer might come to the conclusion that she’s either trying to push past her limits, or run herself ragged. Either way, stay out of her way and off the machine she’s about to use or risk getting scowled at.

Get up, coward. (wildcard)

(For anything else)

Comments

kitchen.

[decrypter]

It's the scent that draws her in. The mix of spices, of browning meat, of savory something that outclasses whatever she was planning to eat by far, and she follows it from a blend of curiosity and hunger. Her cane taps out the way to somewhere new - somewhere she doesn't remember on this ship. The sounds are different, and she could have sworn she was up to date on what was where. But given how time can be skewed, she guesses it's not a surprise.

Still, it seems so good. And the sounds - someone's cooking? Really and truly cooking here? That hasn't happened in months. So it is that she'll wander in, wide eyed and completely unaware if she's intruding, but cautious and hesitant since it's brand new to her.

"What am I smelling...?"

[saltwaterlungs]

"At the moment? An attempt at a beef stew. Which means you're smelling Mirepoix and some beef. I couldn't find anyone to get me some wine, and this kitchen doesn't have proper beef stock. Or herbs that aren't dried and shredded. So. We're making do. If my peasant ancestors could live on acorns and grass clippings, I can put up with stock cubes."

The sound of sizzling and the press of a wooden spoon into the pot continues.

"How are you holding up?"

kitchen

[not_the_last]

"Hello?"

Cassandra peers into the new kitchen and blinks, on seeing Darcy there. Reading a book, which ... probably surprises her more than it should.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

[saltwaterlungs]

"Oh no, you've caught me in my shameful rice cooking, I'll never recover," Darcy says flatly, not looking up from her book.

"'S a public space," she starts, then a small exhale, still not looking up, "and you don't have to walk on eggshells just because I'm in it."

let our bodies lay

[light_mischief]

Skulduggery makes it down within the five minutes he allotted himself, knocking twice on the door even as he begins to open it. It's an easy way to announce himself without having to speak -- and after so much talking and arguing and worrying, he has finally found a limit to how much he enjoys his own voice.

He closes the door behind him and regards her attempt to choke her own emotions back, then approaches her slowly. He doesn't really know what to say -- another byproduct of having talked too much already -- but he feels pressed to say something.

"Asking if you were OK seems stupid in hindsight."

[saltwaterlungs]

"If I've wrecked whatever I have left of my friendships because of that little smoky cunt I'm punting him so hard that the Captain will feel it."

Darcy's probably also spoken too much, but not of her frustrations, her anger has boiled over anew- somehow, lending evidence to the idea that her stores of it are endless- into hands shaking with adrenaline. She crosses the room to be within arm's reach, Darcy takes his hand, placing it like you'd pet a dog at the top-back of her head. She squeezes her eyes shut and headbutts her forehead against his chest, a sound like tar being sucked through a straw as she tries to breathe deep enough to calm herself down.

Kitchen, A

[crushed_pearls]

"Oh my god bread - and Darcy, hey!" Yes the internal narration is escaping, Erin has had no fucking sleep. "So this is the kitchen I've heard about. 's...well, ain't gonna say nice but it's nice to have."

Internally Erin is making a bet that Darcy would be angrier getting asked how she is than by the technical rudeness of not asking.

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy considers holding still to see if Erin operates on the same principles as t-rexes. But she's already correctly identified that Darcy's in the room, so probably not.

"Erin," which is about as much greeting as she cares to offer.

"They're... ten minutes off being done, if I've remembered how long they have to bake for correctly. Either that or they'll be done in five and burnt to shit in ten. You can take some when they're done- just use the buffet butter, I want to conserve the stuff that's in the fridge here."

depression day

[littlefairytale]

Once the immediate rush of their freedom from the Labyrinth and the mess at the bridge is over, Ruby's head feels a little bit like it's full of the stuffing from a plush toy. It isn't the same feeling as after Halloween, but it isn't pleasant, and she loses most of the first twenty-four hours after crisis mode ends to the sensation of vaguely floating through life. She eats, she thinks. She probably even sleeps.

That doesn't mean she really remembers the details. Reality has been just a little... fuzzy, since the illusion took her. It'll pass.

She snaps back most of the way when her phone goes off, anyway.

yeah, totally, I'm guessing we could both kinda use it even more than we already did before

[saltwaterlungs]

my room?
i dont have a roommate rn so
ill see if theres snacks and stuff too
and lemme know when youre coming over?
it doesnt have to be right now or anything

kitchen - D(on't walk on the clean floor)

[myagic]

Maybe Darcy jinxed herself there--as if by mentally daring anyone to step on her floors, she's accidentally summoned a Rita-shaped challenger.

Or maybe Rita's just wandering in with incredibly coincidental timing. Things have changed around the ship, and she'd at least like to know what's still here and what's not...or what's new, apparently, as she strolls curiously into the kitchen, completely oblivious to the freshly-mopped floor. It's a big enough kitchen, even, that she doesn't particularly take notice of Darcy's presence, either, too focused on examining some of the industrial cooking equipment as only someone who's never seen most of this stuff in her life can do...

You know what else she's oblivious to? The fact that she's dropping crumbs on that clean floor as she nibbles on a carrot muffin.

[saltwaterlungs]

"YOU."

Insulting her, her friends, her loved ones, are all one thing. But this? This is the limit. This is past the pale. The absolute fucking upper boundary of bullshit she's willing to stomach today. If God had sent Satan to tempt her into violence he could not have worn a better guise than this.

"OUT. NOW."

Kitchen 🅱

[takethatnature]

Wilson strolls in at roughly the point where late lunchtime turns to early dinnertime and starts looking around, culinary plans concealed by storing ingredients in his inventory, although the discerning nose might pick up a bit of hot-dog smell joining the kitchen scents. It doesn't take him long to spot That Fangy Kid Who Yelled At Everyone In The Labyrinth Lobby, standing directly between him and the slow-cooker.

"Are you using that?"

[saltwaterlungs]

"Using what," Darcy's got her nose buried in a book, sat on a chair she's clearly dragged in from somewhere else.

"Because if it's not in my hands and not full of food, I'm not using it."

... Where is that hotdog smell coming from?

gym, of course

[skaikru]

What was that about anxiety? Oh, whoops.

Because here's Clarke, turning the corner and strolling through the doors of the gym with an almost unnatural ease about her. For once it's not like she's walking with the idea of a destination in mind, just a lazy sort of meander punctuated by the softly obnoxious slap of her shoes on flooring, and a fluffy white towel tucked under her arm. She's also dressed extremely down, not a hint of leather around; black bike shorts, aforementioned flip flops, hair unbrushed. Half drowning in an oversized men's shirt that needed to be rolled up so she could still use her hands. Topped off with a bold set of sunglasses, instead of the usual gun belt around her waist. It's fine and this is completely normal.

It doesn't take very long to spot Darcy, the other girl is a quiet storm of action and exertion that compels spectators. And it's not like Clarke has anything better to do than watch her yank at the grip of that rowing machine for a solid thirty seconds. Two factions are at war in her head. One immediately knows she's unwelcome; that Darcy's probably still as emotionally raw as she'd been in the lobby full of heads, and there's nothing she could say to help, so she ought to just go.

The other doesn't want to think too hard past its own idle curiosity, let alone dwell about the time they'd spent sequestered like lambs for the slaughter. And that one's louder right now. Or at least, it's the one her feet listen to. Drawing closer around the time Darcy finishes her rep, extending her hand and offering up a —

"Towel?"

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy stops only when the towel is in her face- relatively speaking- having shut out the rest of the gym with exertion and heavy metal. She looks up and tugs a headphone out, seeing Clarke in... oh boy that's a depression outfit if ever she's seen one. Considering how she's feeling on her side, she can only vaguely imagine what Clarke and the rest of the scooby gang must be feeling with the situation as it stands.

"Sure."

She takes the towel- not snatching- and dabs at her face.

"Thanks."

Which may very well be the most polite conversation they've had in literal months. Probably closer to half a year.

"You look like shit."

And there that goes.

gym

[pinballer]

It takes Vance a few days to start coming out of his room again, and one of the places he's willing to go is the gym. He needs to stay in fighting shape, and also has to make sure his arms are buff enough that Chrissy thinks they're hot. If his girlfriend stops wanting to squeeze his biceps he will collapse into himself like a dying star.

Usually, he's here alone. This time, Darcy's here, and he's already walked far enough into the gym that she's almost definitely seen him. He's not sure how angry she is with him (hell, he's not sure how angry he is with her - it's all kind of blending together with regret and sadness into some new, stupid emotion he hates) but his teenage pride demands that he face her head on instead of running away.

"You using those weights?" he says, motioning to some weights that clearly no one is using. It's just an ice breaker to gauge the mood and also signal that he's not going to come out swinging.

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy tugs a headphone out, worried for a brief moment that this is going to be another fight that she really doesn't want to have to deal with. But she has about 100kgs on a deadlift bar on her shoulders, so she's not running anywhere quickly until it stops being on her shoulders.

"No, ehn, go ahead."

If he's not coming out swinging, then she isn't either. Darcy would like to still consider him a friend, all things considered. Even through this.

Kitchen

[glassaxolotl]

A shadow crosses by where Darcy is working, peeling the potatoes.

A chair creaks next to her.

“If I may, I would like to assist. I am interested in observing how you cook. You have already seen some of my own methods,” Dedue says.

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy knows that shadow by now, is familiar enough with Dedue's terrifyingly quiet footsteps to know who it is, so she doesn't jolt or look up from what she's doing when he enters.

"Oh good, saves me trying to find you. I was going to ask if you wanted dinner. By the power vested in me, I name you my sous chef- first things first, I need a pot. Medium sized, half full of water, and it needs a decent pinch of salt in it. Do you have anything like gnocchi back home? Potato pasta?"

The hell is a gyme

[breakaleginhalf]

Gil doesn't need to work out, strictly speaking. He'd learned that through an impromptu depression nap that lasted for two months with no discernible muscle loss on his end, so he just accepted it as a Weird Magic Thing and decided not to think about it ever again.

He does trawl by occasionally, because it's something to do, which is why he sees Darcy setting up a barbell with no fucking help in sight - so he just sighs and heads over to her.

"Hey. Spotting you." It's not a question.

using le gymmenasueumme

[saltwaterlungs]

"If I break my neck lifting this I deserve to die," said about as flat as she feels as she screws the second 50kg weight onto the end.

"How's your hand?"

Gym

[be_seeing_you]

Number 6 is slow to return to his routine, deciding that defeating an entire lion in that maze entitled him to a few rest days. But now he is back and looking forward to working some residual frustrations out on the punching bag. Just one problem, Darcy is having her way with it currently.

"Will you be much longer?" He asks her, tone politely indifferent. "If so, I may opt to come back later."

[saltwaterlungs]

"Actually I was just finishing up," she says as if it's not obvious that she wasn't, but she would rather try and fit her entire fist into her mouth wrappings and all than deal with this right now.

She stops the bag from swinging with her hand and then steps away, unwrapping her hands, hunched over her bag.

"I can come back later."

Kitchen A

[maximumcake]

"Oh my God, we have a kitchen now?!" It's a dream come true. Look at it, gleaming like heaven itself.

He's so enamored with the kitchen, he fails to see there's someone else already here for an embarrassingly long few seconds.

"Oh, sorry Darcy, I was so excited I completely missed you were in here. What are you making?"

[saltwaterlungs]

"You're good, dude, I was excited enough to find them that Jesus probably could've walked in and I would've told him to fuck off."

She dusts the flour from her hands, rolling her shoulders back.

"Just making some bread rolls to test out the oven. You want to help me divide the dough?"

wildcard

[prince_of_beasts]

Ava takes charge of Fio after the Sparkles creature disappears. This is good; someone should look after her. This is bad, because Dimitri badly needs to collapse, and with his cabin off-limits he's just fucked most of his available options for places to do it.

He skulks through the buffet for a cheese-and-jam sandwich, tucks himself into a corner like a stray dog to eat it, and then, reluctantly, pulls out his phone to message Darcy.

Im sorry but
I dont want to impose on fio and avaa
Could i trouble you for a place to sleep
?

Re: wildcard

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy's still pulling herself back together when Dimitri messages. She scrubs at her face, glances at the screen, then snaps her attention to it, picking up the phone to quickly shoot back-

please
i mean
it would be nice to have you here
doors unlocked

kitchen, B (couple of days after rita gets rekt)

[neverleave]

Rita is still holed up in her cabin, nursing her wounded pride - and face. Natsuno managed to convince her to at least try avoiding retaliation, but he's not so sure about Darcy. The way Rita described it, the fight in the kitchen was the culmination of a much longer feud - he'd like to think Darcy would be content winning this round and not provoke Rita, but... he had no idea things were that bad in the first place.

Darcy is chopping up vegetables when he enters the kitchen. Natsuno takes a moment to make sure - yup, no residual urge to slam her face into a counter. His tone is neutral, almost conversational.

"I heard you and Rita had a fight."

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy doesn't look up from the onions she's dicing. Her tone matches; entirely neutral on the side of bored or tired.

"She came in here and ruined a couple of solid hours of cleaning, yes it was a big reaction to something minor, no I'm not sorry, no I won't apologise to her, she got off easy, I gave her plenty of chances to walk away before she got her face smacked in, she has repeatedly insulted me and people I care about with no apology ever, including about things I can't change- like, you know, me being dead- and I don't care however the hell she's put it to you to make her seem like she's in the right. She has pushed me to my Goddamn limit for the last time and she's lucky that I haven't punched her before I did, or that I didn't do worse. No I'm not getting anyone else involved, I just want her to leave me alone and stop thinking she can get away with talking shit to whoever she wants. Does that cover everything?"

kitchens, a

[prince_of_beasts]

Loving the people he does, it's impossible for Dimitri not to notice the kitchens. He pokes around the facilities himself, flipping through the amateur recipe-book he received from Sundries, but after one disastrous attempt at eggs he opts to keep out in the interest of not breaking anything.

The smell of fresh bread summons him over, though. He pokes his head in to find Darcy midway through a second batch of dough, and, well, bread seems harder for him to fuck up. He'd helped out in Garreg Mach's kitchens from time to time, when he couldn't trade the chore with someone better suited to it.

"You're baking? Can I help?"

[saltwaterlungs]

"Oh thank God-" Darcy says and means it, withdrawing her hands from the dough she's kneading on the bench, "please, take over for me, my wrists are starting to hurt."

Darcy dusts her hands off and makes her way to the sink to clean off, "I think I got too over-excited with the fact I can make bread now- we've still got plenty of flour left, but I need to find some people to actually eat these bread rolls. I'm thinking of throwing them at people in the buffet."