come_sailaway | sunshine, you're the best time i ever, ever had

Entry tags:

sunshine, you're the best time i ever, ever had

Who: Marc Spector and you
When: Early June
Where: Various locations
Summary: Just trying to get his sea legs, so to speak.
Warnings: Some cursing, some references to substance abuse. Nothing major. Will update later if needed!

I. a little shopping trip

It's the restless urge to be up and doing something that has him browsing through the shop, maybe grabbing a chocolate bar, browsing through the paperbacks. He's not really one to read all that often, but-- there's Steven and maybe he's trying to decide on a book or two to bring back to their cabin and leave inconspicuously on the bed so he can begin hoarding up a new room. It won't be French poetry or books on the Gods, but... honestly. Screw the gods. He'd rather read some trash paperback about some bosomy chick and her dangerous ex-soldier solving some mystery and falling for each other or whatever any day.

When he's not staring down whatever trash novels are in this place, he's plucking up a few extra toiletries on the way out, maybe a few pain meds for any unfortunate hangovers he might acquire along the way.

He might turn a curious eye to anyone who's in there with him and ask, "Does anyone actually see how this stuff's restocked?"

Or who keeps this shit clean and dust free or whatever. Yeah, yeah, ghosts or whatever. But there's got to be more behind it, right?

II. let's hit the sauna

Self-care might come in the form of alcohol and other substances for Marc, maybe the odd brawl here or there, but here he is, trying a little bit of a healthier way at the spa. It's a good thing there aren't any massages -- he'd not be interested in them anyway. But the sauna? Oh, yeah. He can get behind that.

Really get behind it. Marc finds a time when it seems to be empty enough that he can stretch out with his towel spread out over his lap, eyes shut. Fake some of that peace and quiet he's never truly known in his head, maybe.

It's when someone comes in that he seems to go back to alert, sitting up a bit straighter and clearing his throat. "Oh-- uh. Sorry."

He'll even scoot over to give plenty of space to whoever decides to join him.

III. big pills, little pills

Somehow, Marc ends up int he infirmary. Well, not just... by chance. He's curious, just in case he ever needs to perform surprise minor surgery on himself or needs a hit of something stronger when the alcohol isn't enough to knock him out or bury the bad memories.

That doesn't mean he doesn't scowl a bit at some of the-- medieval torture devices, er, medical supplies. "What the fuck is this thing?"

Do they... do they do lobotomies around here still? Bleed people with fucking leeches, what?

But once he finds the pills, he seems to perk up a little bit. "Hey, they got some of the good stuff..."

Guess who's gonna be sleeping a little easier tonight?

IV. tauva

Maybe this isn't his type of joint, generally, but he's finding himself enjoying the atmosphere... and the whiskey doesn't hurt it either. Better than the place that keeps playing Billy Joel too, in his opinion. He might be huffing out a quiet laugh when he picks up a bottle with yet another weird date he's pretty sure is a lie. Whatever. It could have been back from the beginning of time and he's not gonna be choosy.

"Hey," he'll start if he notices someone close enough with an empty glass. "You want a refill?"

Never let it be said he can't be nice on occasion.

V. wildcard

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"Learning about other people's worlds can be wildly entertaining," she said, with a lift of her eyebrows. "Especially when they involve hair-metal superheroes. Honestly, under other circumstances, I'd drag everyone into the theatre some night and make them all tell stories. Except for the fact that we are in no way organized for that kind of thing, half the others would object, and there's the constant threat that the Captain is going to do something sinister."

It also skewed a little too close to the talent show. Diana understood that. And she understood how poorly it had been received.

Maybe in time.

"Other than that?" She made a sweeping gesture. "The usual amenities of a cruise ship. There's a casino, karaoke, I'm sure some people are swimming or something. Not me. I don't swim. I sink."

"Well, damn, and I was gonna ask if you wanted to go for a swim." He gives a bit of a smile though, looking her over.

"But I got stories. A lot of weird shit happens back in my world. Pretty sure I could entertain you all night."

"Careful, I might just take you up on that." Between bouts of terror, living on the cruise ship had been surprisingly boring. She'd developed some sense of routine, just to keep herself grounded, but Diana missed spontaneity. She missed vibrancy and the kind of excitement that didn't require her to pull out a sword.

Not that she didn't have her share of weird-shit stories.

Diana was just...easing into the whole 'living openly' thing. One step at a time. One disaster at a time, really.

"All right," she said. "Weirdest story you've got. Go!"

"Hey, any time. I don't sleep much anyway." And he can't always rely just on the company of his sort-of twin, you know? Besides, he thinks he might like an excuse or two to keep her up all night.

"Weirdest story, huh?" Damn, that's a tough one. "You got aliens where you're from?"

"Aliens?" She shook her head. "Only as an offensive term for undocumented individuals that the alt-right likes to use to make little grannies in pill hats clutch their pearls."

Although, she supposed, it really wasn't out of the realm of possibility that extraterrestrial life existed somewhere in the universe.

The supernatural was real, after all.

"All right," she said, "you have my attention."

"Yeah, well-- I've heard all that before too." But fortunately, that's not the way he's using it.

"Okay, well... years ago, the sky like, opened up, right? And these aliens came through to attack Manhattan. That's the first time anybody ever saw the Avengers. Guess that's what got them together, these aliens."

He shrugs his shoulders. "I guess I was about-- twenty-five? Deployed at the time so I only saw it on the news. But man, it was a trip."

He hums. "Then this giant purple guy came years later with some insane god complex, I guess."

As much as Diana enjoyed the color purple, the god complex didn't sound so groovy. "Was the guy related to the attack on Manhattan?" she asked. "Or are we talking multiple incursions here?"

Maybe aliens in his world were as bad as Cainites in hers.

Took all kinds, or something.

Although a part of her mind was still mulling over the whole thing about Thor being real.

"Not too sure. Could've been? Honestly, it was just-- shit I read on the news. Well-- the purple guy, Thanos, he ended up using this magic glove to turn half the world into dust. It was messed up."

Sent the world into chaos, really.

"But-- there were decent aliens too. Ones who helped us out from what the news said."

Her eyes bulged and she stopped in her tracks.

That was a lot of upsetting information to process, all at once.

"Half the world into dust?" she said. "That's..." Diana didn't have a scientific mind. There were questions to ask about sustainability and physics and geology, she was sure. But her mind immediately went to what mattered the most: Life. "How did anyone survive?"

He shrugs. "It wasn't easy, but-- we managed it. Saw a lot of people get dusted that I knew, but-- the Avengers got them all back five years later."

He shakes his head. "Now you want to talk about chaos? Imagine everything that disappeared five years prior coming back in the blink of an eye."

"Got them back?"

Well, that was something. A glimmer of hope. Maybe more than a glimmer. The best possible ending, perhaps. Short of that trauma never happening in the first place.

The chaos seemed like a small price to pay.

The question on her mind:

"How?"

"He used these-- cosmic stones to do it. They could bend reality. But uh-- long story short, five years later, the Avengers managed to use them and undo it. It brought everyone that vanished back to the present day, basically."

And a few Avengers died doing it, but that seems-- a little more depressing, than he wants to get. "I know that probably all sounds insane. That's-- just life where I'm from, I guess."

And she thought her little world of darkness was a weird-ass place.

Diana's sister and the Order had managed to save the world...what? At least five times? Possibly more, depending on whatever ended up happening in Phoenix, which was an annoying question mark that often left her tossing and turning at night.

...but cosmic stones?

"Okay," she said, holding her free hand up. "I think I officially surrender. There is absolutely no way that I can ever top a story like that."

That actually gets a snicker out of him and Marc ducks his head for a moment. Yeah, alright. "Told you, I had some crazy stories."

He probably has more, but he'll spare her any other ones.

"Do I win something for having the weirdest story... or did I just lose?"

"I'm not sure anyone wins when half of everything is wiped out and then brought back five years later," she admitted. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad everything was reversed but...yikes. Dude, that sounds like one hell of a thing."

Bright side? Perhaps that kind of experience helped to avoid freaking out over their never-ending Love Boat situation.

Diana knew she was being way more chill than some on board would have liked. She chalked it up to her two hundred years of messiness.

"Makes for one hell of a story, though."

"Yeah, well... that's our life back in our world." He shakes his head, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It's-- kind of insane, describing it.

"Yeah. At least very few people can probably top that one. But you know, I haven't heard a story of yours yet."

"Oh, I don't think I can top that," she said. She might be able to compete, but she was really trying to downplay the Cainite aspects of her life. They didn't make the best first impression.

Still. She was trying this whole 'living openly' thing.

Middle ground, then. Cainite, but not quite so...unsettling.

A small smile twitched in the corners of her mouth. "But since you're from Chicago, I suppose there is the time I sang in a speakeasy that got raided."

"Wait-- wait. Alright, I know it's rude to ask a lady her age, but didn't you say it was 2000-something where you're from? Weren't speakeasys a little before your time?"

Feels like they should have been, unless she's just-- from an interesting other world where prohibition happened a little later than expected.

Welp. Time to burn the bridge, or something.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it would build one instead. Diana liked to believe the best in people. And so far, no one had completely and totally freaked out. There was hope there.

Still, she took a quick, centering breath. "Oh, I'm...two hundred and fifty eight..."

"Uh, wow... You look-- really good for that." Marc's entire life is crazy. The god he-- served was an ancient bird. He can accept a two hundred and fifty eight year old chick who doesn't look nearly her age.

"Is it rude to ask how it's possible you're still alive? Did you-- what... discover the fountain of youth?"

Okay. Good, great even. He was handling this with...grace. It was a good start. But Diana still found herself choosing her words carefully.

"Funny story about the Fountain of Youth," she said. "Not a real thing. But the legend was started by someone you might call a distant cousin of mine."

Aaaand that was stalling.

Diana took another deep breath. "Uh, well. I'm not exactly human."

"... Are you a god or something?" Can gods get pulled here? He has no clue. But-- this sounds weirdly like it's going some way, that's for sure.

"Gonna guess not an alien." Or he might've just been unintentionally insulting with all his stories.

"A god?" That was where he went first?

Diana didn't know whether to be flattered or not. She owned a mirror, she knew what she looked like.

Still.

"No," she said. "Believe me, not a god and extremely terrestrial. In fact, I was born human. Just had a slight...mishap when I was twenty five."

Yeah-- well, look. He's seen gods before. And if she's not a god--

"Or-- serving a god? Because." he's kind of got experience with that too. Not fun experience. Gods are dicks, end of story. Or at least the one he got roped into serving.

"Or what, some kinda vampire?"

Well, she had a fairly strong faith in God with a capital G, but Diana got the sense that he was talking about something...else.

Her father's voice echoed in the back of her head, urging her to probe that particular line of thought. Intellectual curiosity would have to wait, however. Living openly came with higher stakes than curiosity.

"Um...well, the technical term would be 'Cainite.'" She realized it was a euphemism, really, at this point. But sometimes, she kind of needed the euphemism, for her own sanity. "They say he was the first vampire. The mark of Caine is...yeah...vampirism." Quickly she held her hands up, eyes wide. "But I'm harmless, I swear!"

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