Seeking: Normalcy

[lightconductor]

What: Watson, aiming for some equilibrium
When: Late July/early August
Where: The infirmary, the library, the sauna, etc.



1, Library

Watson, seeking some level of reassurance in the days after his latest death (by exploding deep fryer, of all the insulting things), retreats to a favourite of his: fiction. Unfortunately, the novel he'd been working through before all of this happened was a sea novel, full of pirates and adventure on the waves, and that leaves somewhat of a bad taste in his mouth, just at the moment.

He sighs, and tosses the book to one side.


2, Infirmary


It seems unlikely that people will want him, so soon after an excursion; still, sometimes it's more about the normalcy than anything else, and he ends up lurking in the infirmary like its his own personal office (he knows it isn't, really, but it feels like it's his, sometimes).


3, Sauna

While cold water certain has every reason to put an ache in his bones, there's no earthly reason he should still be feeling it now. It's probably in his head head.

Nevertheless, while Watson is a frequent visitor to the sauna, he's there a little more often than usual lately. Like a true sauna connoisseur, he goes nude, a towel over his lap for modesty's sake; the crater-like scar of his shoulder and the mess of smaller shrapnel scars down his leg are on full display. He sits with his head back, and his eyes closed, but there's a tenseness to him, as though even here, he cannot truly relax.


4. Bobby B's

In the evenings, he writes, scribbling furiously in a notebook with a fountain pen that never seems to run out of its green ink. He smokes as he writes, almost absently, occasionally forgetting about the cigarette in the ash tray as he becomes intensely involved in one particular passage.


5. Wildcard

You know how to find me.

Comments

4

[be_seeing_you]

Number 6 approaches with a cigarette in hand, pausing at Dr. Watson's side to watch him furiously write out his last line. Number 6 is making no secret of his presence, but he does want to give his friend the space to finish his thought on paper before interrupting.

"Should we be expecting a new publication some time in the near future?"

[lightconductor]

Watson looks up, and gives him a tired smile.

"At this point, I promise nothing other than my own peace of mind. Sometimes I simply must write things down, though, or go quite mad. Please," and he gestures to the seat beside him. "I'm certainly willing to take a break for a friend. How are you doing?"

[be_seeing_you]

"It is a far better way of coping than some," Number 6 comments lightly, though, he's read Watson's books so the undercurrent of what he actually means is evident if Watson wants to find it.

He takes the offered seat, drumming his fingers against the table when that question is posed. How is he doing? Not as well as he should be. But he will carry on.

"Well enough, all things considered. How about yourself?"

[lightconductor]

"Indeed," Watson says, meaningfully. He can think of several terrible ways of coping.

He sighs, and shuts his notebook, laying his pen on top of it. "I suppose I feel about the same. What else is there to say except that I am as well as I can possibly expect. Though you're about to be married, aren't you? How are you feeling?"

[be_seeing_you]

(Is one of those ways pretending to be okay when you're not? Asking for a friend.)

"About getting married? I suppose I am feeling a natural amount of anxiety about the affair. I am...worried that the mood will not be quite so joyous in the wake of this. Ava is..." he fingers drum the table harder. "The entire thing disturbed her and I cannot help but feel responsible. I do not know how it was that she died. I went before her. But the fact that she cannot bring herself to tell me what happened concerns me."

[lightconductor]

Watson's eyes flick to 6's drumming fingers, and back to his face.

"That is alarming," he says. "While I have no doubt you could find someone who did witness her death, I suspect that may not be quite the point." Does he repeat the conversation he had with Ava? He's not sure. Perhaps that's betraying a confidence.

1

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb, arriving with the intention of setting herself up at a table with her notebook again, pauses as she comes by Watson. "Well somethin' turned you off that right quick."

[lightconductor]

Watson looks up, and lets out a puff of laughter.

"I've always loved a good sea novel," he says. "Adventure on a sailing ship, pirates, sailors, the like. Somehow, it lands flat for me today."

[pointofhonoria]

"Right, somehow." She snorts and leans against the back of an adjacent chair, hands hanging loosely whilst still holding her things. "Y'know, I can't decide if that choice of excursion shows he's run out of ideas, or's still full of 'em."

On one hand, he literally just sent them to a copy of the ship and sank it. On the other, they'd all gone this long living on this ship without worrying about that.

[lightconductor]

"Well, I suppose that even the greatest artist suffers a block from time to time," Watson says, wry. "If the excursions continue being so simplistic, then perhaps we can start with the constructive criticism. Do you think he'd take that well?"

[pointofhonoria]

"What's he gonna do if he doesn't, kill us again?" Christ, maybe she is getting too flippant about this stuff, but it's that or just get herself in even more knots about it. "If we're gonna die over an' over the least we should ask for is some flair."

[lightconductor]

It's all right, flippancy is a defense mechanism. Watson laughs, dryly. "I'll draft the letter now. To the Captain: we request more creativity in your methods to have us die and/or murder each other. Frankly, it's becoming repetitive."

3

[yourexoduslaughing]

Flan pokes her head in quick, spots the other fellow already inside and goes "Oooop!" before ducking back out.

When she comes back in, she's got a towel around herself so she's not flashing the goods around. She picks a spot near, but not too close, and asks- "Hiiiiiii. This a conversational kind of space, or do you wanna just vibe in silence?"

[lightconductor]

Watson struggles, briefly, with the idea of the sauna on this ship being a co-ed environment, and with the appropriateness of sharing this space with a woman, and all the terrible, terrible cultural baggage about gender roles that he is, unfortunately, sometimes burdened with.

He takes a breath. Clearly, she's comfortable with the situation. That's probably all that matters. There's no one on the ship who will be scandalised, or at least no one that matters.

"I'm perfectly comfortable with conversation," he says. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I don't believe we've met, Miss...?"

[yourexoduslaughing]

"Flan! Flan Fraiser!" She reaches a hand over to shake. "Nice to meet you! You're one of Johnny's husbands, right? I saw you guys at Pride!"

[lightconductor]

He reaches and shakes her hand politely. "A pleasure, Ms Fraiser. And yes, I am so fortunate as to be so attached. My name is Watson, Dr. John Watson."

There is, eternally, a vague unease he feels at being recognised for his relationships. He knows it isn't dangerous, but it still feels like it should be.

[yourexoduslaughing]

"Oh shit, Doc Watson!" Flan's grip is rough but her shake is enthusiastic as she promptly recognizes him for other reasons. "Cool! I've never read the books but I've seen Elementary and once I watched a big three hour video about how the BBC version of the adaption is terrible! I'm glad you're not from that one!"

[lightconductor]

"Er," says Watson, feeling like he's ageing rapidly, "yes. Well. That my work persisted I knew, but... three hours? For a bad one?"

Is this better or worse that being recognised as the man with two husbands?

"I really don't quite -- Ava once mentioned one with mice, I really can't imagine what any of these are like, but they seem very divorced from the reality I knew."

2

[pineapplesalmon]

César finally grows tired of whatever project he's working on and decides to seek Watson out. Okay, that's a lie. His timer went off to tell him to take a fucking break already.

Knowing Watson's schedule well enough, César walks right into the Infirmary and looks pleased that he was right. "Hola, osito."

[lightconductor]

Watson looks up from his book, and gives César a warm smile. "Hello, love. Did you need me for anything, or is this a social call?"

He gestures for César to come over, so he can kiss him.

[pineapplesalmon]

"Social, because I need you." César replies smoothly, immediately coming over as beckoned, leaning over for a kiss. "I brought tea."

He's got a tea sea and his infinite tea sources in his inventory; he's cheating.

[lightconductor]

Definitely cheating.

Watson kisses César gently. "I can't say the infirmary is the most romantic of places, but you're welcome to join me. I'm glad for the interruption, I think. Pull up a chair, love."

[pineapplesalmon]

"Balderdash." César smiles at him for a moment before straightening and walking towards a chair. "This place is plenty romantic enough. My parents fell in love in a place like this."

He picks up a chair and carries it back. "My brother and I exist because of labs not too different than this. This reminds me of home."

3

[prince_of_beasts]

Dimitri's had his own difficulty shaking off the frost. For the most part, he deals with it as he deals with most of the rest of his stress -- for once the Serena Eterna's oppressive sun is welcome, as he trains until his limbs shake and he feels more like a puddle than a person -- but sometimes, he just needs to soak.

Today, the sauna's already occupied. Dimitri raps his knuckles on the door, announcing himself in case Watson didn't hear him enter. "It's only me."

(It's never only him, but not in any way that matters to anyone else.)

[lightconductor]

Watson glances up, momentarily caught in a daydream. He gives himself a shake.

"Ah, Dimitri, lad." His voice is warm. "It's good to see you out and about. How are you feeling?" He gestures to the bench, an invitation to sit down.