A man chooses, a slave something something (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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come_sailaway2023-09-24 12:36 pm
obeyseventually) wrote in come_sailaway2023-09-24 12:36 pm
Entry tags:
September Open!
Who? Jack and various, plus one for Eleanor and one for Siffleur
Where: Tommy Bahama, Promenade, various parts of the ship
What- You know the drill, flowers are making his life difficult and then also yours
1. Guess I’ll Die - Siffleur
At this point, Jack spends half his time in the Tommy Bahama. Something of a mountain man, but for an infinite clothing store.
Of course, it’d be easy to notice the changes even without that experience, given the lack of real plants of any sort here on the ship.
Jack stands in this open spot on the border of the men’s and women’s section of the store, regarding the cluster of purple bell-shaped flowers and the discarded clothing around it - Bahamanal shedding, or something else?
Maybe it’s a bit silly to be this cautious of the flowers, but Jack’s been here for over a year and-
Wait a second. Over a year? Huh...
Jack folds his arms as his thoughts change track and he does the math, and huh, it has been a year, hasn’t it? Maybe he should do something to celebrate that, or - oh, huh. The other thing.
2. Bouquet of Suffering
The flowers are less of a mystery by the halfway point of the month, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less cautious of them now.
Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be the Serena Eterna if the flowers were easy to avoid and nothing to worry about.
a) for ambivalent You might find Jack making his way through the promenade completely aflame from a brush with red camellia. Thanks to Incinerate! and experience, he doesn’t look particularly bothered as he makes his way to the elevators with a vague goal of dousing himself in the pool or something. Because while the flames on his body may not be lighting up the ship around him, the same can’t be said of whatever he picks up. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if his being on fire was more of a visual effect, and the real flower power was this burning Midas touch.
b) for beleaguered Or, you might find Jack walking around resolutely ignoring the angel’s trumpet phantom behind him, a man dressed like a dockworker, pale shirt and suspenders and stark blue eyes. He has nothing good to say about anything Jack’s doing, even if it’s just walking from point A to point B. Jack’s either too slow, or unable to focus, or - weird remark to make, but - a waste of money. Curiously, the ghost seems to switch accents now and then, from Irish to something like a drawling Brooklyn accent, and it’s in the latter voice that the worst things are said to him.
c) for capitalism Or, like many on the ship, he gets his turn with the poppy flowers, and in his dreams he’s armed to the teeth as he walks through a massive Tommy Bahama, if Tommy Bahama had been designed in a very 1950s art deco style and then left to decay under the sea for a few years. There’s other things on the racks too, just other little things you’d see in Rapture: Boxes of waterlogged
Jack looks equally exhausted and Done With It in every one of these scenarios.
3. The Whole Truth, Nothing But - Eleanor
Late in September, Eleanor gets a short and simple message on her phone:
Eleanor. If you want to have that talk about Rapture, now’s a good time. Do you want to meet somewhere for this?
Wow, that’s awfully upfront of Jack, I’m sure everything’s fine!
4. Wildcard
Jack likes to walk around the ship and spends time in Tommy Bahama, any of the restaurants, Bobby B’s, Playback, and likes to take evening walks around the upper decks, and if someone’s having a problem with plants in any of these places he’ll at least take a look at things!
Where: Tommy Bahama, Promenade, various parts of the ship
What- You know the drill, flowers are making his life difficult and then also yours
1. Guess I’ll Die - Siffleur
At this point, Jack spends half his time in the Tommy Bahama. Something of a mountain man, but for an infinite clothing store.
Of course, it’d be easy to notice the changes even without that experience, given the lack of real plants of any sort here on the ship.
Jack stands in this open spot on the border of the men’s and women’s section of the store, regarding the cluster of purple bell-shaped flowers and the discarded clothing around it - Bahamanal shedding, or something else?
Maybe it’s a bit silly to be this cautious of the flowers, but Jack’s been here for over a year and-
Wait a second. Over a year? Huh...
Jack folds his arms as his thoughts change track and he does the math, and huh, it has been a year, hasn’t it? Maybe he should do something to celebrate that, or - oh, huh. The other thing.
2. Bouquet of Suffering
The flowers are less of a mystery by the halfway point of the month, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less cautious of them now.
Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be the Serena Eterna if the flowers were easy to avoid and nothing to worry about.
a) for ambivalent You might find Jack making his way through the promenade completely aflame from a brush with red camellia. Thanks to Incinerate! and experience, he doesn’t look particularly bothered as he makes his way to the elevators with a vague goal of dousing himself in the pool or something. Because while the flames on his body may not be lighting up the ship around him, the same can’t be said of whatever he picks up. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if his being on fire was more of a visual effect, and the real flower power was this burning Midas touch.
b) for beleaguered Or, you might find Jack walking around resolutely ignoring the angel’s trumpet phantom behind him, a man dressed like a dockworker, pale shirt and suspenders and stark blue eyes. He has nothing good to say about anything Jack’s doing, even if it’s just walking from point A to point B. Jack’s either too slow, or unable to focus, or - weird remark to make, but - a waste of money. Curiously, the ghost seems to switch accents now and then, from Irish to something like a drawling Brooklyn accent, and it’s in the latter voice that the worst things are said to him.
c) for capitalism Or, like many on the ship, he gets his turn with the poppy flowers, and in his dreams he’s armed to the teeth as he walks through a massive Tommy Bahama, if Tommy Bahama had been designed in a very 1950s art deco style and then left to decay under the sea for a few years. There’s other things on the racks too, just other little things you’d see in Rapture: Boxes of waterlogged
Jack looks equally exhausted and Done With It in every one of these scenarios.
3. The Whole Truth, Nothing But - Eleanor
Late in September, Eleanor gets a short and simple message on her phone:
Eleanor. If you want to have that talk about Rapture, now’s a good time. Do you want to meet somewhere for this?
Wow, that’s awfully upfront of Jack, I’m sure everything’s fine!
4. Wildcard
Jack likes to walk around the ship and spends time in Tommy Bahama, any of the restaurants, Bobby B’s, Playback, and likes to take evening walks around the upper decks, and if someone’s having a problem with plants in any of these places he’ll at least take a look at things!
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"Odd to see so much greenery." He tells Jack, coming up to rub against his legs a few times. "Could use some grass too."
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"Yeah? Some catnip, too?" Jack pauses and frowns a little. "... Does catnip work on you?"
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"What's it like for you, anyway? Are you actually high, or does it just smell good?"
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Then he stops talking for a little bit, just to purr so hard that he mouth-breathes with delight.
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"That's so cute." he says.
He also crouches so he can get his other hand into it, digging his fingers nice and good under Siffleur's chin.
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He also feels the urge to lick Jack's arms and he indulges, licking swathes along his forearm and whatever else is in reach.
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He keeps petting and scritching Siffleur, even ruffling him a little like a big dog. Eventually though, he settles back down to just leaning his arm on Siffleur's neck and resting his hand on his head.
"Hey, if you had to guess at the month, what would you say it is?" Jack asks. The weather on the ship is so consistent, you could barely say there's seasons, but sometimes you could kind of ballpark it.
Or just make it up arbitrarily, hey.
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Huh. "Must be close to my one-year here. And we're past yours."
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"In that case, we're also past my birthday." He says.
According to his passport, his birthday was on the first, so he was right if they were any deeper into the month than that. Not that it really mattered here, but still.
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Then another nudge from his nose and he asks the important question. "Do you want a party? A small one, with a few friends."
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"Christ, could you imagine if we were here that long?" he asks.
Which, hell, maybe they would be. Maybe the cruise would shake out to be a long-term thing, but it was hard to imagine that. He'd only just wrapped his head around how long he'd actually been alive, and thirteen years was - well, almost double how long he'd been alive, now.
Anyway, more important was what he wanted to do about it. A year and his social circle hadn't gotten huge by any means, but it was more than the sad single cake party he had in his early weeks here.
And, ah, there's the matter of what number to put on the cake, too, and how many people he was comfortable with knowing that.
But... Jack shrugged.
"Maybe. Something lowkey, I've seen what events here can get like by now." he says with a little laugh. "Or maybe - not to copy Ava - we find that restaurant here and do something."
Although... Maybe he should spend his birthday outside of the part time home of the Tommy Bahama.
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He also gives Jack a nudge. "Max will want to make you a cake if I mention you are having a birthday. Would you like that?"
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Fuck the party, this is WAY more important -
Which probably makes his answer clear before he says anything, but still: "Absolutely - man, what flavour would I even get?"
It's possible to make a cake that tastes like a fancy twinkie, right?
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And as he says that, he grins and leans his weight against Siffleur, being the one to flop against him for a change.
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Then he decides they should both go down, more than happy to let them be dumped into the patch of foxglove they've been near this whole time.
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And then he realizes something's wrong.
Jack knows what it feels like to have his heart attempt to stop, after all, and it wasn't unlike the immediate feeling of doom that fell over him once those petals touched his skin, or the pain in his chest, or the way his breath caught, or-
He stares, wide-eyed, at Siffleur, gripping his fur and struggling to breathe as his body struggles to stop-
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He wakes up in the room he shares with Daisy. It's been a while since he was here, and he lays on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He died? He died. As soon as they touched the flowers, he and Jack both died. Fuck. Siffleur closes his eyes for a moment, then sits up to grab something from his stash of post-death clothes, looking over himself. What did he lose or gain this time?
... nothing, as far as he can tell. He turns around a few times and looks in the mirror. Huh. He seems fine. His memories seem fine too. It's like an expedition death-
It's an expedition death.
He bursts out of the door, still naked, grinning broadly and looking for Jack.
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"Nothing changed." he says/asks/confirms.
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beleaguered
Meanwhile Pratt is doing his best to just ignore him, which means talking to anyone who can distract him from this bullshit.
"You made a friend too huh?" He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "Think we can send them off on a playdate?
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"I'm hurt, Jackie. Here I thought you missed the sound of my voice. Absolutely lost without me." Atlas says with mock hurt.
Jack resolutely keeps his eyes on Pratt's face.
"Playdate nothing, I'd shove 'em in a pit to fight to the death." Jack says flatly.
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Pratt closes his eyes and leans his head forward as Jacob's soft voice chimes in with, "What are you doing Deputy? Wandering around? Going soft in this place. Becoming weak. Just like before. I knew you wouldn't make it."
With gritted teeth, Pratt is also going to pretend like Jacob isn't there, "Wish we could. What the fuck is even happening? Like what shit did we do to piss off the Captain like this? I haven't even talked to him in... kinda forever."
3. The Whole Truth, Nothing But | Time Is Fluid Here In Comparison To The Dedue/Dimitri Thread
You wanted liquor, yes? I see no reason to deny you its comfort, nor to deny myself the same. Though if privacy is wanted, the wine bar is far less used, and perhaps less likely to get us uselessly drunk. Twenty minutes.
Your obedient servant,
Eleanor Lamb-Delta, Big Sister
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The fact that he doesn't ask how she's able to drink would be an indicator that something's up to whoever knew Jack, but, well, that was the problem, wasn't it?
Jack's waiting at a table, turning a white flower in his fingers by the stem. He looks up when Eleanor enters - hard to miss her, even if this place wasn't empty - and he nods at the chair across from him, already pulled out and waiting.
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It goes on her lap. She's not dealing with these flowers again. Not after everything. She'll burn this ship to the fucking frame first.
"...You're gonna have to take this personal space compromise, Jack. I've been less than two inches tall all month."
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"Ah. Fair enough." he says, and smiles slightly. His chest jerks a little - just for a second, he keeps it suppressed to just clearing his throat.
"This one just makes you tell the truth." Jack says, lifting the little flower in his hand and smiling a little. "So I'm saving you the trouble of cornering me for it."
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Eleanor can barely whisper it. It's far more than she was expecting, and her anger doesn't know what to do with it. She hunches over her helmet, eyes on Jack. "...I'm not sure where to begin, though. The legend of you is so vast, so...so distorted that it's hard to know what I don't know."
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His eyes fall to the flower pinched between his fingers as he turns the stem between them once more.
"I could start at the beginning." Jack suggests. "Or cut right to the historic events."
Really just killing Ryan, and then Fontaine, wasn't it? What else could he have done to make the news down there?