come_sailaway | Revenging Angel - The Rise and Fall of Harvey

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Revenging Angel - The Rise and Fall of Harvey

Who: Crichton (Harvey), Lt. Tayrey, Dr. Watson, Arthur, Cassandra, Erin, literally anyone is welcome to jump into this mess
What: Here's what you missed last time.
TL;DR: Harvey stole some revenge-loving daggers that were in Tayrey's care and used them to murder Valdis. He made Crichton watch. This is the place to play the fallout directly after.
When: Sep 30 for the murder, Oct 1, and forward for the fallout. Will include later dates in Oct, as well.
Where: The Brig + Various locations stated in the starters posted below
Warnings: Blood, Death, Gore, Violence, Mind-control, mention of Drugs/Alcohol Addiction, will warn for more as necessary

This is a nightmare. This is his worst nightmare come to pass. Valdis...frell. Is she going to come back in three days? After watching her die like that, he's terrified she might not. It's his fault. It's all his fault. He should have known Harvey would still be plotting behind his back. Why did he ever let himself believe it could be safe? He should have stayed locked in the brig.

God... help him.

In The Brig - Guard Duty - Open
This is where he belongs. This is where he should have stayed in the first place. This time, however, he can't stand to be alone. He's begged anyone and everyone he knows to, essentially, play guard duty on shifts. He can't let himself fall asleep unless there's someone there to watch him. Even then, it's hard. The dark circles under his eyes grow more purple by the day as he constantly starts to nod off, only to jerk himself awake again in a panic.

It will go on like this for days. He'll refuse to take one step out of this cell, not even to go get food. Not like he has much of an appetite anyway. Besides, he knows if he walks out of here the first place he might wind up is in front of a bar. He's let Valdis down enough already... he can't risk it.

Find him huddled up in the corner of the brig under a blanket once again like a sick case of deja vu. If it's your turn to watch him, he'll point to his pulse pistol sitting over on a chair outside the cell and say, "Use that on me if I try to leave."

[ooc: feel free to handwave Crichton asking for your character's help.

Rise & Shine
Harvey is dead. Crichton had to die with him. Now, three days later, only one of them is back alive.

At 6:00 a.m. sharp, Crichton takes a deep breath in. His eyes fly open and he sits straight up in his bed. Is it done? Is he gone? Is Harvey really gone?

Crichton searches his mind, trying to access that place where he and his mental clone used to meet. He can't. It isn't there. Harvey isn't there!! The weight of him is lifted. For the first time in so, so long, Crichton is alone in his own mind.

"YES!!" He jumps out of bed and dances in place right there on the carpet, with a few more excited whoops and hollers for good measure.

"He's gone! HE'S GONE!"

Crichton might be so distracted by his own celebrating that he may or may not notice if he has company in the room with him. But, the more the merrier today. He's finally free!

----

The celebrating doesn't stop there. Good God, he's so hungry. People brought him sandwiches while he was down in the brig, but he'd only picked at them half-heartedly. Not much appetite. Well, guess what's back now?? He could eat a whole cougar.

Find him spread out in the buffet later that morning with five plates in front of him, greedily shoving every type of breakfast confection into his mouth like he's worried they're going to vanish off his plate. They are, but they're vanishing into his stomach! Food has never tasted this good.

Wildcard options open: Let me know what kind of starter you want and I'll make it happen. Keep in mind this will be the last chance to participate with Harvey. He'll be perma-dead at the conclusion of this plot.]

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I think Lt. Tayrey is hurt. Please go check on her in her cabin. I'll explain later.

Acknowledged. Be there shortly.

And indeed, Watson shows up at Ari's cabin quickly, doctor's bag in hand.

There's no answer when he knocks, but the door is open. The room is in disarray, clear signs of a struggle. Tayrey's dividing screen has been pulled aside, and on the far wall some shelves have had their contents dumped on the floor, and there's a hole in the wall itself behind them.

Tayrey herself lies curled on the floor, unconscious. There's a fresh, nasty-looking open wound on the side of her head, blood pooling on the floor around. Next to the giant crystal in the corner lies a bloodstained bowling ball.

His eyes glance over the scene quickly; what happens seems to be obvious, though the who and the why... well, there will be time for that later. Watson steps over the blood, setting his bag in a safe place before he bends over Ari.

"Lieutenant?"

Watson reaches to take a pulse, hoping she is still alive.

She has a pulse, although it's weaker than it ought to be. There's no response when he speaks to her; she doesn't stir at all.

This is bad. It's a serious wound, and he's already reaching into his bag with one hand, finding gauze by feel. Watson keeps his hand on her pulse point, monitoring, not at all sure there's anything here he can help with, with the tools at his disposal.

And something begins to happen, something that has never happened. A warmth seems to flow between them, and Ari's wound starts to knit closed; at the same time, Watson's own head begins to ache. A trickle of something he knows without looking is blood creeps down his scalp.

This is alarming, and dangerous, and yet the only thing he can do is keep at it until she gains consciousness. He is, whatever else is true about him, a doctor.

If she were conscious, Ari Tayrey would object quite strenuously to this form of treatment - so perhaps it's fortunate for her that she isn't. It only takes a few moments, that wound of hers beginning to close up, and then her eyelids begin to flicker.

She opens her eyes, revealing pupils far too dilated for a room this well-lit.

'Doctor Watson? You... oh, you're bleeding.' She reaches upward, half-pointing at the blood trickling down his face.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath. 'My head hurts,' she tells him plainly. 'Harvey was... was... I have to warn Valdis!' she exclaims, suddenly agitated. Tayrey tries to sit up, but a wave of dizziness prevents her, and she lies back again.

"Don't sit up just yet," Watson says; he's a bit dizzy himself, all of a sudden, and he's not quite sure how he did what he just did. He presses some gauze again Ari's head, gently, and wipes absently at the blood on his own face. "Take a moment. Breathe deep."

He doesn't like those dilated pupils, and he knows what tends to cause that. One thing at a time.

"I had a message from Crichton," he says. "Can you tell me what happened?"

It's a sign of just how bad she's feeling that she doesn't try to argue. Watson is right, after all. Sitting up doesn't seem like a good idea. She obediently tries to take deep breaths instead. Her pulse is getting stronger now, as her body responds to the sudden healing. She'll have no idea just how close she came to death.

'It's not... not Crichton,' she tells him, because that's the important thing, the critical thing. First priority. 'It's Harvey, in his body.'

Why is it so hard for her to put her thoughts in order? She mentally pushes back against the pain, the frustration. Deep breaths. Slow and careful.

'He was here to steal. Something hidden, and dangerous,' she says. The daggers - but she'd promised Valdis she wouldn't tell. Does that promise still hold? Tayrey doesn't know. 'I caught him, tried to stop him,' she continues, 'but he attacked me. So he took them? He took them. I'm in breach of contract.' She pronounces this last as if it's worse than the attack, forgetting she hadn't explained what they were.

"It's Harvey?"

There's a flash of alarm that passes over his face, and he glances up around the room, at the door behind him, before he turns his attention to Ari again. "What did he take, lieutenant? I know how to keep a secret and it may be very important information."

On this ship, there seems no reason for theft based on greed or desperation. It stands to reason that whatever was stolen is more important than that. That, in itself, is worrying.

Watson shifts a little so he can see the door where he sits, and starts gently cleaning to wound on her head.

Tayrey grits her teeth as Watson starts cleaning the wound, because as gentle as he's being, it still hurts. No complaints, though. It has to be done. If she lets a wound like that get infected, and she doesn't have Tradeline technology to treat it, she's probably in for a miserable death.

'It's Harvey,' she confirms. He knows who Harvey is; that helps a lot, saves a lot on explaining. That question, however, isn't at all what she wants to hear.

There's a look of regret in her eyes, a hint of sorrow. 'I can't,' she tells him. 'I'm sorry, I can't tell you. I gave my word.' Tayrey says it with such simplicity, she half-sounds like a schoolboy from Watson's time, all honor over practicality. She is practical-minded, but then she's always been terribly earnest about her values, too.

He knows that look; he's seen it in the mirror enough times.

"Then don't tell me," Watson says. "But if that information does become pertinent, remember that there is a point where a secret does more harm being kept than being told." He pauses to examine his work a moment. "Do you feel well enough to try to sit up? Slowly, though."

'I don't break contract,' she says, except that she had, because she was supposed to keep those daggers safe. It hasn't yet occurred to her that there won't be any secret left to keep once Harvey starts stabbing people with them.

Can she sit up? 'I'll try,' she says, keen to get back on her feet. Again she tries to sit, slowly this time. 'I feel dizzy,' she admits, 'but it's not... overwhelming. How bad is the injury?' It suddenly seems important to know, and she doesn't dare try to touch it.

He hesitates, considering whether or not he ought to be fully honest. He could lie, but at the end of the day... he's not always very good at it.

"It's a rather nasty bump on the head. It was... worse," Watson admits, "but I seem to have... done something about it. I'm not quite sure how."

She assumes that he's being modest, that he's downplaying his medical skill and whatever it was that he did to stabilise her.

'Of course you knew what to do,' she says trustingly. 'I'm fortunate that you found me.' She still thinks there are people on the ship who would sooner finish the job than help her if they found her in that state.

She takes another sharp breath. 'I hate to ask this,' she says, 'but do you have anything for the pain?'

"Certainly," Watson says, at once. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a bottle of pills, and shakes a few of them into his hand. "Here. I can fetch you a glass of water, if you need it."

He stands, a bit shakily, as he shakes out a couple more pills, for himself, and his own throbbing head.

'It's alright, no need for that.' Tayrey takes the offered pills and swallows them immediately, without her usual careful questions about the ingredients, or whether they might be addictive. Right now, she just wants it to stop hurting. All else is secondary.

Tayrey tries to get to her feet, but the dizziness overcomes her again, her vision blurring. She half-collapses onto the nearest chair, a hand over her eyes.

'I'm sure I'll be fine after I sleep it off,' she says - but there's a concerned, questioning note in her voice. She will be fine, won't she?

"You'll be fine," Watson says, a supporting hand at her elbow. "You'll need to rest, though. You've had a nasty wound, and it will take you some time to recover from it, more than a night's sleep. I realise you're the sort to say otherwise -- I know your type, lieutenant -- but I really must insist."

He glances around the room, the mess, the blood, a frown creasing his brow, then offers his arm to her. "And this is no place for rest. Come along to the infirmary."

He does know her. He knows how she pushes herself, how hard she works. It's an indication of how worried she is, therefore, that she doesn't actually put up any argument. Instead, she lets Watson help her up, and takes his arm, trying not to lean on him too heavily.

'After all you've done for me, I think I'll let you insist,' Tayrey says quietly. She'll try her best not to be a difficult patient, at least. 'Maybe it's for the best that I'm not alone, anyway. I'm... the dizziness hasn't gone, and there's visual disturbance when I move too much. I don't think it's a serious concussion. I'm up and talking to you! But it's... something.' She's still trying to downplay it, as if optimistic thinking could turn probability to her advantage.

"You really shouldn't be alone right now," Watson says. "It doesn't need to be me, but someone ought to stay with you for the next 24 hours, wake you periodically. If there's someone you trust, we can call them."

Tayrey tries to think of someone. On the Tradelines she could have asked almost anyone. Then again, on the Tradelines she wouldn't have needed to. Their infirmary was well-staffed.

Nobunaga? Cassandra? Erin? She doesn't want to trouble anyone.

'I can't think of anyone,' she admits. 'I'll be alright.'

Edited 2023-10-12 16:56 (UTC)

Watson shakes his head. "This is not optional, lieutenant. You need a second person, someone who will wake you every few hours when you sleep. I will stay with you myself, if need be. I realise death is somewhat more... impermanent than it might be, but it is not without its consequences, and there are risks that must be watched for after a head wound such as that."

The young Tradeliner clutches his arm more tightly. It seems to be getting through to her now that she really does need to take this seriously, that her usual bravado and brushing-off of her own health could be very dangerous.

'I don't want to die,' she tells him plainly, fearfully. 'I don't. I trust you. You'll stay with me?'

She'll be in his debt. She likely already is, but - debts can be repaid, everything set back how it was. Death isn't like that, not even here.

"I'll stay," he promises, with all the solemnity he can muster. He'll have César or Johnny bring down whatever he needs, and prepare to camp out. He thinks nothing of it. It's just the Hippocratic oath, after all. He helps, because that is what he does. "You'll be quite safe with me."

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Revenging Angel - The Rise and Fall of Harvey

[Text to Watson - Closed to Watson and Ari]

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