come_sailaway | 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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Wayne, I'm so sorry." He moves closer to the bars, fully alert now. His friend needs him.

"You're grieving him. It's like... losing anyone you love suddenly. It hurts. It hurts forever. You never stop thinking about all the things you meant to do and say. It eats you up. You don't have to keep pretending you're okay when you're hurting. Take it from me, that didn't work out."

"Grieving...grief, yeah, that sounds right." Especially when it lasts this long. When you go most of your life without ever feeling much very deeply, being dropped in the shit and forced to feel things is a trauma all on its own, and Wayne has been deep in it for a while now.

Wayne looks up at the movement, then back down at his guitar. He's never once felt the urge to damage his prized instrument in all the time that he's owned it, but in this moment, his fingers tighten on the neck of it, the strings creaking under his fingers.

"It's never going to stop. I don't get to rest. I keep going, and going, until it's done, no matter what happens to me or the people I care about. I'm..."

He swallows. He'd told Gil about this once. He was the only one that knew the entirety of it.

"Commander, I'm tired. I want to press on the chemical release that'll kill me right here. Anything to make it stop for a while. You wanna know what's wrong with me, that's it. I'm tired. I'm tired of losing and losing no matter what I've done or who I've helped. I'm not allowed to have my life back so I want what I've done to mean something to anyone, and then I want to stop."

The string snaps. His head hurts. Those stupid, godawful tears are back.

"Wayne..." Crichton's eyes are shiny with tears. He wants so much to unlock these bars and go out there, put his arms around his friend, and hold him while he cries. They can't even have that.

"I've been where you are now. Only, Harvey kept me from being able to push that button on my own, so I made someone else I care about do it. I pushed him to do it. And I'm never going to forgive myself for that. But I can't throw any stones at you from here in my glass house. I wish I had any answer for you, about how it gets better, yadda yadda. Truth is, it really does just keep going. And that's what I need you to do, too. Everything you've done means more to me than you could ever know. I'm sorry that's not enough to make this pain go away, but it's all I got."

He reaches his hand out past the bars, "Take my hand. Let me hold you. Please?"

He bites down on the immediate urge to refuse, to leave and feel this way alone. He doesn't like showing this side of his emotional turmoil to someone else, let alone to someone that's already gone through enough just in the last few days. He doesn't want to be another source of drama and worry.

Wayne shifts across the walkway and leans his shoulder against the wall, letting the side of his horn prop up against it. He hesitates just a touch, before wrapping his hand loosely around the one held out to him.

"I've spent so much of my time debating on whether I should just do it, but what's the point when it doesn't even do what I need from it? I want to go back to my beach and my larvae. I'm so tired. I'm so tired... I can't ask anyone else to do it for me, and dying off the ship doesn't do anything either." He'd seen that firsthand when he'd taken an immediate sword to the sternum during the melee while trying to pick his target.

He doesn't like that he's repeating himself, but maybe that's the lyricist in him. Or his own monosyllabic tendencies reasserting themselves. Probably both.

"I can't help you. I try and I fuck up, over and over, and...I think it's because I want things I can't have. No matter how realistic I am about it it doesn't change that either. But it's over now, right? I can leave you be, and I won't hurt you, and in turn it can stop hurting me."

"Over?" Crichton's hand tightens on Wayne's. "Wayne... why do you sound like you're breaking up with me?" He doesn't really suspect how close to the mark he might be, but this is the kind of language he's used to hearing from exes who want nothing to do with him.

"Is that really what you want? You want me to... stop talking to you?" He tries, but he can't keep the hurt out of his voice. Is that it? Wayne wants permission not have to care about him anymore. Is he that much of a burden...?

"It's not fair to call it a breakup when nothing was ever going to happen," he points out dully. He knows that if he tries to elaborate, he's going to shove Crichton further away. After all, creating distance is about the only thing that they can really do here when it's been this bad for this long. But...maybe that would be for the best.

"I. I'm afraid. You'll never want to see me again. But you're like my best friend here, and that's probably worse. I've let go of people before, I'd like to think I can do it again, but if I explain then you're going to leave me too."

He's softening by the second under Crichton's grip. It's not enough that it's hurting him, but the way his yellow warps around the man's fingers would be alarming to anyone, whether they know what it means or not.

"You've been there for me from basically the day I arrived and I realized...in the middle of everything I realized... I love you, more than I have any right to. And I know that you can't fill that space for me, because you love someone else, and I'm not going to ever ask you to do or be something that you don't want. I don't want you to look at me and see some lovesick shithead that can't keep his feelings in check."

Crichton's brows furrow with worry. He can feel Wayne's hands softening and he knows what that could lead to. But... this revelation hits him from left field. Wayne Loves him. ...Romantically? He's struck speechless for a minute just trying to process that. But he doesn't let go of Wayne's hand. He doesn't pull back.

"I... I'm sorry. I never realized." He swallows thickly, but his mouth is dryer than ever now. "Oh, Wayne. I'm so sorry. You're right that I can't... return that feeling for you. Not the same way. But I care about you. I don't want you gone from my life. But I... I guess if that's what you need to do." Despite it all, a tear drops from his eye. He never thought he'd lose a friend this way. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I didn't want this," he murmurs, and now he's the one pulling his hand back to wipe at the globule wetness running down his cheeks. "I didn't want to have to explain this or make you think you were like...responsible somehow. It's a selfish, idiotic thing and none of it is your fault. But you asked...

"You asked."

Wayne swallows, and with a brief curling of his fingers, he Illusions himself out of sight.

"I'll tag out and let someone else take up guard duty. If you ever need me again before this ends, you know how to reach me."

He asked but... it was Wayne who pulled away in the end. Crichton tips his head forward into his knees so Wayne can't see the tears that are pouring openly out of him. But his back is shaking with the effort to hold in a sob. He only manages to stay silent long enough for his former friend to leave the room and then the wail of anguish finally breaks free.

While he pours his sorrow out in gasping sobs, he can hear evil laughter in his ear. And a wicked whisper. You will always end up alone, John Crichton.

Revenging Angel - The Rise and Fall of Harvey

no subject

cw: heavy suicidal ideation

cw: heavy suicidal ideation

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

wrap?

wrap