Charlemagne "Sharky" Victor Boshaw (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
broshaw) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2023-09-09 06:15 pm
broshaw) wrote in come_sailaway2023-09-09 06:15 pm
[open] life is a flower
Who: Sharky Boshaw and YOU!
What: Flower Power baby!!!
When: Across September
Where: The laundry room, Bobby B's, and the usual hot tub prompt!
Warnings: General Sharky warnings apply (so check his info post)
[laundry room] hyssops
[Sharky's breakfast had taken place in the buffet, next to a bunch of tall purple flowers that were actually super pretty. By the time he finished, he found himself suffering from an intense need to do some late spring cleaning... some fall cleaning, really.
Anyone who comes into the laundry room today will find it completely stuffed with various bits and bobs: old Tommy Bahama shirts; denim jeans from the diner; swimsuits; leather boots; and a whole pile of absolutely trashed clothes from his arrival back home. Sharky is in the midst of it all, stripped down to his boxers (out of respect for the young impressionable eyes on the ship!), his boombox playing a variety of disco music at a frankly obnoxious volume. He's hand-washing his boots while all of the laundry machines rock and roll.
The second the effects of the flower wears off, he'll abandon almost all of this mess for someone else to clean up, but right now? Right now, he is single-minded on his task, to the point where he won't notice if someone else comes in.]
[bobby b's] purple hyacinth
[He'd thought they were just more intense cleaning flowers, but the joke's on him! Hyacinths are a completely different kind of flower, and they do something much worse than turning him into a temporary clean freak. This one is a straight-up bummer.
Sharky can be found suffering from an intense bout of remorse in the evening, sitting in the back of Bobby's with a pack of cigarettes, his boombox, and a half-drunken bottle of old, expensive whiskey. Despite his bleary eyes, he isn't anywhere close to passing out, too busy going over the last fifty-ish years of his life and picking apart all the ways he's fucked up his life.
For some reason, he's picked some twangy indie-sounding chorus music to listen to, although at a much lower volume than he usually bothers with. Country music is the traditional music of a sad Montana boy, but he's fresh out, so he's making do.]
[hot tub] pansies
[What is with this dude and the color purple??? Anyway. After dealing with chronic cleaning and a level of regret that normally only comes after a long night of getting cross-faded, Sharky's doing his best to avoid any and all flowers!
Unfortunately, the hot tub is slowly being crowded by thirsty flowers; his usual 1 AM skinny dipping sesh means tolerating whatever fucked up thing said flowers are going to do to him. After about five minutes of standing nervously around in his shorts, he decides that they must be safe enough, so he shucks off his clothes and plops down in the hot, bubbly water that he knows and loves so well.
No drink this time; instead, he's just quietly reading a Nancy Drew book and enjoying some peace and fuckin' quiet. The boombox, a constant companion these days, is set up by his towel, playing the BeeGee's greatest hits at a normal volume. Sharky sings quietly to himself as he reads, and it sounds so normal to him that he doesn't even realize his mouth isn't moving while he does it!]
[wildflowers]
[hmu for something specific, or set up a prompt with a flower in the header and I'll roll with it!]
What: Flower Power baby!!!
When: Across September
Where: The laundry room, Bobby B's, and the usual hot tub prompt!
Warnings: General Sharky warnings apply (so check his info post)
[laundry room] hyssops
[Sharky's breakfast had taken place in the buffet, next to a bunch of tall purple flowers that were actually super pretty. By the time he finished, he found himself suffering from an intense need to do some late spring cleaning... some fall cleaning, really.
Anyone who comes into the laundry room today will find it completely stuffed with various bits and bobs: old Tommy Bahama shirts; denim jeans from the diner; swimsuits; leather boots; and a whole pile of absolutely trashed clothes from his arrival back home. Sharky is in the midst of it all, stripped down to his boxers (out of respect for the young impressionable eyes on the ship!), his boombox playing a variety of disco music at a frankly obnoxious volume. He's hand-washing his boots while all of the laundry machines rock and roll.
The second the effects of the flower wears off, he'll abandon almost all of this mess for someone else to clean up, but right now? Right now, he is single-minded on his task, to the point where he won't notice if someone else comes in.]
[bobby b's] purple hyacinth
[He'd thought they were just more intense cleaning flowers, but the joke's on him! Hyacinths are a completely different kind of flower, and they do something much worse than turning him into a temporary clean freak. This one is a straight-up bummer.
Sharky can be found suffering from an intense bout of remorse in the evening, sitting in the back of Bobby's with a pack of cigarettes, his boombox, and a half-drunken bottle of old, expensive whiskey. Despite his bleary eyes, he isn't anywhere close to passing out, too busy going over the last fifty-ish years of his life and picking apart all the ways he's fucked up his life.
For some reason, he's picked some twangy indie-sounding chorus music to listen to, although at a much lower volume than he usually bothers with. Country music is the traditional music of a sad Montana boy, but he's fresh out, so he's making do.]
[hot tub] pansies
[What is with this dude and the color purple??? Anyway. After dealing with chronic cleaning and a level of regret that normally only comes after a long night of getting cross-faded, Sharky's doing his best to avoid any and all flowers!
Unfortunately, the hot tub is slowly being crowded by thirsty flowers; his usual 1 AM skinny dipping sesh means tolerating whatever fucked up thing said flowers are going to do to him. After about five minutes of standing nervously around in his shorts, he decides that they must be safe enough, so he shucks off his clothes and plops down in the hot, bubbly water that he knows and loves so well.
No drink this time; instead, he's just quietly reading a Nancy Drew book and enjoying some peace and fuckin' quiet. The boombox, a constant companion these days, is set up by his towel, playing the BeeGee's greatest hits at a normal volume. Sharky sings quietly to himself as he reads, and it sounds so normal to him that he doesn't even realize his mouth isn't moving while he does it!]
[wildflowers]
[hmu for something specific, or set up a prompt with a flower in the header and I'll roll with it!]
no subject
What do we do with, like, all the stuff I don't want?
no subject
Save them as rags for future repairs, deposit them back in the depths of the Tommy Bahama [ he smiles, just a little playfully ] or there's always the firepit
no subject
I guess if I shove it all into trash bags, that'll work for now? [he tests the idea out loud to see if it works with the compulsion he's got for keeping things clean. it... yeah, that should work, it doesn't feel like he's going to tear things apart if he puts the trash away.] Yeah, that doesn't feel like a total blow-off. And then I can take a brillo pad into the shower. [ha ha ha,] That's a joke, I'm not that compulsive yet.