Deputy Pratt (
theweakhavepurpose) wrote in
come_sailaway2023-10-03 05:56 pm
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October Open
Who: Deputy Pratt and you! Also one Closed to Ash
What: Definitely not having PTSD from last October
Where: Outside the Tommy Bahama, his room, the cheese shop
When: October
Warnings: Residual freak outs about his best buddy, death talk, being real depressed.
1. And out of the red, out of her head. (Closed to Ash)
Pratt hasn't been in his room for a few days, sometimes he forgets he's supposed to sleep, and eat and drink and be human again. He's gotten so much better lately but habits forced into being are hard to break.
He pushes the door open and heads over to his side of the room to dig into some nice cold mashed potatoes, when he stops and stares at the bloody shirt shredded on the floor. That's not good. Immediately on edge he steps the rest of the way into the room, not touching the shirt.
"Hey? You in here?" He quietly closes the door behind him and looks around before drawing his gun and inching towards that scuffling noise coming from the closet.
2. If everything could ever be this real forever - Outside Tommy Bahama
His memory is bad, terrible even. What did he do yesterday? No idea. Who did he talk to this morning? Can't remember. But boy does he remember the terrible things. The awful things. If it would be better left forgotten he remembers every single detail. Everything.
Right now he's just standing in front of the Tommy Bahama, staring at the plate glass window, but he's not seeing Tommy Bahama; he's seeing the Spirit Halloween. Infinite decorations, darkness, violence and then Ava, ... and Sharky. But most definitely not Sharky. It just keeps replaying over and over in his head as he looks at nothing.
Maybe he should blink at some point...
3.Out of your head out of my head - Cheese Shop
Perched on one of the seats in the Cheese Shop, Pratt has wedged a giant knife with a red handle into the barrel that serves as the table. Occasionally he uses it to slice cheese against as he sits there eating his feelings with manchego and salami.
"If we can't really die, then we can't really live huh? Like.. what's the point of all that then? Just keep on keeping on while eating cheese? Is that all there is?"
What: Definitely not having PTSD from last October
Where: Outside the Tommy Bahama, his room, the cheese shop
When: October
Warnings: Residual freak outs about his best buddy, death talk, being real depressed.
1. And out of the red, out of her head. (Closed to Ash)
Pratt hasn't been in his room for a few days, sometimes he forgets he's supposed to sleep, and eat and drink and be human again. He's gotten so much better lately but habits forced into being are hard to break.
He pushes the door open and heads over to his side of the room to dig into some nice cold mashed potatoes, when he stops and stares at the bloody shirt shredded on the floor. That's not good. Immediately on edge he steps the rest of the way into the room, not touching the shirt.
"Hey? You in here?" He quietly closes the door behind him and looks around before drawing his gun and inching towards that scuffling noise coming from the closet.
2. If everything could ever be this real forever - Outside Tommy Bahama
His memory is bad, terrible even. What did he do yesterday? No idea. Who did he talk to this morning? Can't remember. But boy does he remember the terrible things. The awful things. If it would be better left forgotten he remembers every single detail. Everything.
Right now he's just standing in front of the Tommy Bahama, staring at the plate glass window, but he's not seeing Tommy Bahama; he's seeing the Spirit Halloween. Infinite decorations, darkness, violence and then Ava, ... and Sharky. But most definitely not Sharky. It just keeps replaying over and over in his head as he looks at nothing.
Maybe he should blink at some point...
3.Out of your head out of my head - Cheese Shop
Perched on one of the seats in the Cheese Shop, Pratt has wedged a giant knife with a red handle into the barrel that serves as the table. Occasionally he uses it to slice cheese against as he sits there eating his feelings with manchego and salami.
"If we can't really die, then we can't really live huh? Like.. what's the point of all that then? Just keep on keeping on while eating cheese? Is that all there is?"
Fast forward to Friday/Saturday when he revives!
"Hello?" He says softly. Sitting up he pushes the blankets off and drops his legs off the edge onto the floor. Standing up he reaches out and his hand bumps a wall. In his confusion he bumps along the wall trying to find a light switch. "Hey, is anyone there? Where the fuck is a light switch?"
His hand thumps against a part of the wall that feels different, maybe wood? And he knocks against it. Then he hears a voice. Pratt.
"Shit. Pratt! Am I...in the fucking wall!?" He fumbles around the wall again, speaking much louder. "Where the hell am I? I can't find the light switch."
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"Uhhh.. Ash? Where the hell are you? You're not like invisible are you?" Because weirder things have definitely happened here on this ship. Holstering his pistol he puts one hand out to feel around in case there's an invisible werewolf in here. But the sound seems to be a little too muffled for that.
"How the fuck..." He knocks back on the wall. "You in there?"
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Maybe he doesn't want to find a way out. What if she is out there? She knows her pain is his weakness. He spends a few minutes in silence, listening to every stupid question in his head. When he hears Pratt again he snaps out of it.
"I think I found a door." In the darkness he could feel the shape of a door. "There isn't a handle." Right as he said it his fingers caught a grove in the door. He gave a tentative tug and the door cracked open but didn't let much light in.
Ash peaked through the half inch gap and saw...clothes. "Think I'm in the closet."
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He peers into the closet, seeing only clothes and batting away his obnoxiously red cult hoodie, to get to the back of the... huh. Was there always a panel back there?
"Dude. The fuck? There's like a door in the closet?" At first he doesn't see a way to even open it, but he slides his fingers along the edges and pries it forward. "Ash?"
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if everything could ever be this real forever
"Sup, buddy? I don't think it's changing anytime soon." There's a beat as they let themself decide on the next words before. "You're gonna hurt your eyes if you stare that hard all day."
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"I'm wondering if I'll see it change into a Spirit Halloween. And you know how a watched pot never boils? If I keep staring at it... maybe it..... Won't."
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"I think if it was gonna it probably would have by now, yeah? Guess we're gonna recycle costumes or make some truly confusing Tommy Bahama ones. Ha. That could be fun, though."
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At least this has roused him from his stupor. "You really want to do a halloween party again?"
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3.
'You got it,' she says flatly. She doesn't mean the words unkindly. To her mind, his assessment of their situation is just accurate.
'That's why my efforts are to change that. Find a way to live - or find a way to die. Either one beats this.'
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He sighs and runs his hands through his hair.
"Hella people are gone now too. Bash. His boyfriend. All my roommates. Clarke."
That last one is probably the one that's hitting him the hardest.
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She doesn't. She stays calm.
'Except they're not properly dead. They're stuck in the Nothing, under torture. I'd say a death where you just stop existing is a whole lot better than that.' Alright, no anger, but she doesn't deal in comforting lies, either.
That said, she's not heartless. 'I miss Clarke too,' she says quietly. 'It does suck. All of it.'
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"I was talking about myself. This, even tho it's depressing as fuck, is better than being dead. But that doesn't make it good you know? Even if some of it is kinda awesome." He glances over at her, wondering if she actually does know. "I asked Friday once, about how to get them back but once they're gone.. she didn't help much."
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3
She wanders into the cheese shop with Judith trailing behind, looking for something different to snack on that isn't back at the buffet. Then she overhears Pratt in his depression as she walks by. A pause, then she turns to him. It's heartbreaking to see him so down. No doubt Natsuno has been feeling the same, underneath that stoic exterior. Maybe she hasn't realized she's at her limits at keeping it all in. Because when she speaks up, she stamps her foot down and raises her voice.
"We're... not gonna keep on keeping on while eating cheese! We're all gonna get off this ship someday and live a better life somewhere else! And we're all gonna see everyone again!"
Oops, she didn't mean to yell.
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He almost drops the piece of salami he's contemplating like the speckled meat will hold some of the answers, staring over at her while his brain yells at him for being a miserable lump in front of Fio.
Too bad all he can come up with is: "You're right."
It's hard to snap out of it when so focused on how bad things are. But she is right. Just... how are they gonna do that?
"You're definitely right. We only have to figure out how." He sets his jaw, thinking about that. "Got any ideas?"
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Fio quickly returns to normal speaking volumes after her little outburst. Even hearing herself yell surprises her!
"We might... have to talk to the Captain more. Or Miss Friday. We probably need to figure out the right things to say or ask... maybe." She pauses, then adds softly, "We can try talking to Sparkles too. Sparkles must know a lot of stuff." She needs a couple of days practicing what to say to it, especially since their last conversation was very awkward.
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2. if everything could be this real forever
"Heyyyy, I was just thinkin' about you! I'm thinkin' about my birthday, and..." Huh. "Hey, you ok??"
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So yeah. He's totally fine.
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He responds with the bearest of bear hugs, since Pratt only hugs when he needs a good one.
"--Heeeeey, buddy, it's all good." Because what else do you say to a guy who needs a hug???
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2.
She enjoyed the costumes. Working in the cafe to practice her social skills even as the ship steadily fell apart. Taking a child that turned out not to be Fio trick-or-treating. The possessions of her friends had dialed her paranoia up to maximum, and figuring out the conspiracy right at the last hour hadn't been all that satisfying when she had to immediately rip said friends apart to free them. Learning the truth about the Nothing haunted her for months...
But it was her first kiss with her now husband. And she's hopeful to celebrate properly this year. But it's clear even before she approaches that Pratt isn't feeling particularly festive.
Ava removes the mask to her costume, not wanting to spook him when she steps in close. "They're gone now. We don't have to worry about him coming back."
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"Have you noticed my luck? I bet Pickles is the only one still around or some shit." He sighs, running both hands through his hair. "It's dumb but.. if it doesn't turn into a Spirit then it's not really Halloween right? It cancels it out." He doesn't sound like he actually believes that, but also a little too worn down to really push it.
Eventually he does turn towards her, "Oh sick, you look like a cool future samurai."
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Maybe it's better this way. Pickles himself had claimed he would prefer a real death than being held in the Nothing for eternity. Still, she is regretful she wasn't able to uphold the promise of finding another way.
"I was looking forward to having a better Halloween this year. I don't want the last one to ruin it for me... but maybe if you need..." she's not sure what the best way to avoid the holiday completely might be. Maybe she's in the minority of people that actually wants to celebrate it. It's not as if most people here are from a modern enough version of Earth to even care.
"Ah, thanks," she gives a little twirl for him to get a full look of the costume.
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2
Because it'd be sexy.
"Then again, I'm not sure the energy conversion rate."
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A pause while he tries to remember all that and yet somehow not think about Sharky's birthday.
"Wait, didn't you get possessed too?"
cheese shop
Arthur takes the opportunity and diverts his path into the cheese shop, entering to Pratt's latest soliloquy.
"It is a tempting symmetry, but I think that being dead typically keeps us from living as well."
He's not sure if that's a joke or not. Anyway:
"I, ah, wanted to knock on your door, but I had already suffered as many threats of medical intervention as I could take. Rough month?"
Says the skeletal man who's trying to hide his new frame under one of the more formal Tommy Bahamas offerings. He remembers that Pratt felt skin-and-bones. He remembers that Pratt told him why. There are things he wants to say, but they're too revealing: best... best see how the conversation goes, first.
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And now John is gone too. His ... ex maybe?
"Medical intervention?" He wrinkles his nose, "Don't worry, I won't tell you to eat your vegetables."
Even though that might not be a bad idea.
"And ignore me, I'm just.. I dunno. Were you here last October?"