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
And TBH, the wild west has a bunch of useful info. Like, how to avoid a gunfight, how to get into a gunfight... Oh, and how to hoedown! That's hella important. [says the guy from Montana]
no subject
[It’s hard not to smile when she’s talking to Sharky, which is why she hopes that he understands how important that is to her.] Oh, yes. I do know my way around a gun. I have one of Hector’s guns in fact. Perhaps, if I’m lucky, I’ll get my pistol. [Does anyone not know how to hoedown?] Well, yes. Dancing is particularly important. We don’t do much, but sometimes.
no subject
[it's impossible to focus on all the ways his idiocy has screwed him over when he sees it making someone else feel better. maybe he's a fuck-up, but at least he's a funny one?]
You'd think someone would'a requested a shooting range by now. Or Saturday square-dance nights. That was a big thing for like three years back before the cult rolled into town, but I was more of a roller-rink and disco kinda guy. Still am, obvi, but I was then, too!
no subject
I haven’t seen you out on your skates in a while. But perhaps I will keep that in mind. If I can figure it out. I’m hoping it will come with ammo because running through ammo is a pain.