saltwaterlungs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saltwaterlungs) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2023-05-10 06:27 pm
saltwaterlungs) wrote in come_sailaway2023-05-10 06:27 pm
You must fix your heart
CHARACTERS: Darcy and probably someone
DATE: it's (already) May
LOCATION: Various
SITUATION: Depressed teenager has a normal time
WARNINGS: None yet!
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.
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.
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.
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.
(For anything else)
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)
no subject
At her final question, he pauses in the middle of filling the pot with water.
“No,” he says simply. “I have seen some pasta on the ship, but we did not have it in Duscur or Fodlan. I have never heard of gnocchi.”
no subject
She sets down the potato she's finished peeling and puts aside the peeler, taking up a knife to roughly chop the potatoes.
"Most of what I learned about cooking comes from my mum and grandma. But I learned a lot about pasta from one of my krewemates. His family- well, they were pretty much all criminals, but his nonna- his grandmother- ran a little restaurant he used to help out at."
...
"It was mostly for uh- they call it 'money laundering', which is sort of a way of getting rid of a paper trail from drug deals and stuff. But she was apparently a really good cook."
no subject
He adds, “I do not believe you have told me much of your ‘krewemates.’ You have already met some of mine.”
cw mentions of domestic violence, death
"There were four of us in total- including me- and we were called the Fishbones Society, after these tunnels below Lyon called the Fishbones- we think they were catacombs once, but that's not really important. Our leader was Terre Mère, who was... honestly kind of, like, mysterious. We never learned her real name. We all died in some way, that's how you become what I am, and she was... buried alive. By her husband. He thought he'd killed her during an argument, apparently, tried to hide the evidence. She used to tell us that she clawed her way back out of her own grave, slammed her wedding ring on the kitchen bench and told him she wanted a divorce. Dude nearly shit himself."
A hand-wave, as Darcy tries to keep herself on topic.
"There was Kael- he was a cop- ehn, sort of like a town guard. He was investigating corruption in the ranks when some of the crooked cops decided they didn't want him to, so they... disposed of him. Fed him through industrial equipment and blew the whole place up. He came to Lyon to get away from them, and he was- honestly he was kind of a humourless fuckhead, but he helped me with my boxing a lot. And..."
It's not got easier to talk about him, but a rueful smile crosses her face.
"Avery. Violent mobster, kind of an asshole, dressed like a colourblind peacock. Good taste in movies and music. Murdered by his uncle the first time- ehn, locked in a basement with a tiger. He was important to me. We lost him a bit before I showed up here. Long story."
no subject
no subject
Darcy finishes up chopping the potatoes, dumping the bowl of them into the boiling water.
"His whole family was really big on, like, insane flexes of money. But I also don't think you get into crime if you're not into having more money than other people."
no subject
no subject
She leans against the countertop, arms folded.
"Anyway. Complicated bunch. We mostly did a bunch of... friendly neighbourhood stuff, with ghosts. Protecting people from the angry ones, helping them move on, investigating where they cropped up. It was kind of fun honestly, a bunch of mysteries and shit. Usually. Sometimes it was 'this ghost won't move on unless you help weed a garden or fix someone's plumbing', those sucked."