come_sailaway | What the water wants is hurricanes,

Entry tags:

What the water wants is hurricanes,

CHARACTERS: Darcy, and you?
DATE: July, month-long
LOCATION: All over
SITUATION: A lot of truth-telling
WARNINGS: Standard warnings for Darcy with the risk for more specific parts of her history, ie eating disorders, institutionalization, murder, homophobia, more murder, etc.

What the water wants is sun kiss (meta)

A couple of parcels arrive for Darcy at the start of the month. An oddly heavy bag that she quickly works out contains a shapeshifting sword is the first one. The second is empty, and she sets aside the next day to weather the recurring symptoms of her death, harassing her friends into bringing in food so she doesn’t have to traumatize anyone by walking around.
The third is just a cool leather jacket and a decent pair of boots. It’s probably too warm for it, but Darcy runs cold anyway, and as if she’s not going to take the chance to preen in a sick leather jacket.
(Assume truth/lie effects for all prompts, the only change between the prompts is whether or not Darcy is aware the effects are happening)

And land to run into and back.

Over the first week, Darcy can be found testing out her new powers with all the eagerness of a kid with a new toy. Any close CR might find their shadow suddenly staring at them with Darcy’s eyes as she tests out her new shadow form for pranks and shenanigans. Anyone can come across her utilizing her new wall-running ability to scale the ship and get places she isn’t meant to, or hanging by the pool and utilizing her new ability to turn to water.

I have a fish stone burning my elbow,

The new bag with the odd sword in it is a source of some fascination to Darcy. For a decent portion of the first week, she can be found on the sports deck in her usual location, opening the bag and replacing the weapon within to see what else it turns into. Come get y’all sword fights.

Reminding me to know I'm glad

It’s been two months now since Darcy’s seen rain. She tries not to think about how little the weather changes between the days as she makes her way outside to verify what she heard from her cabin. Actual rain, that to her knowledge isn’t acidic or made of tiny knives. The rain is oddly relieving. It’s a taste of normalcy from the usual endless summer days, and it cools the temperature down enough for her to be comfortable in her new leathers. Darcy doesn’t go more than an hour without touching water for the whole day, in between bouts of sitting outside in the rain, and subsequently will be compelled to truth for a solid twelve hours.

That I have a bottle filled with my own teeth.

A couple of instances of regretting conversations after they happen is just par for the rest of Darcy’s existence, in her experience. Being too weirdly earnest sometimes, or coming up with some bullshit that probably seemed funny in the moment, remembering the conversation in hindsight differently to how it felt at the time. Darcy’s not the most eloquent person in existence, awkwardness is to be expected. But after the first day of rain, several consecutive hours of compelled truth-telling catches up with her, more than can be explained away easily. She doesn’t leave her room the next day. Darcy spends the rest of the month paranoid, avoiding the weekend rainfalls and, unless told specifically, failing to connect the bouts of compulsion with anything other than the rain.

They fell out like a tear in the bag.

(Wildcard/catch-all for any situations that arise as the month progresses)

Threaded | Flat

Ireland isn't known for perpetually sunny days, but over the last few months it seems that Skulduggery's gotten rather used to the endless blue skies. He hadn't quite realized just how badly he'd missed cloudy skies and dreary drizzle until he catches sight of the gray sky outside.

He's almost out on the open deck before he considers the potential dangers of the strange weather pattern. Caution has him lifting a hand, forcing the rain to part against a thin cut of air overhead. If this gives him the mild impression of holding an invisible umbrella, then all the better.

Skulduggery wanders for a bit, watching as others makes their way indoors. Not everyone is as eager to seek shelter, though. It hardly surprises him when he finds Darcy standing out in the rain that he's so far avoided touching. When he presses on the air, he can feel her presence there -- solid enough that he's at least eighty-percent certain she's real.

Those are the kind of odds that guarantee his approach, dry under his imaginary umbrella. "I suppose if you haven't been melted by acid yet, it's safe to be out in..."

Steven's been avoiding going back to his cabin. Spending time alone out on the exposed areas of the ship while it's raining is a little bit dramatic, but it's the one place he knows he won't run into anyone he knows. If he's alone, then he won't have the opportunity to run his mouth.

Or so he thought.

Their first meeting... didn't go so well. Steven is extra paranoid that he'll make things worse between them. Or worse - ruin Marc's relationship with other people. Especially when it's not so easy to tell them apart when he's decidedly not talking. He gives her a wary little nod when he shuffles past her. And then gives her an offensively wide berth as he tries to pass without saying anything.

Fio is here for a sword fight!!! ...No, she isn't. She doesn't know how to wield a weapon besides a (fake) laser gun. She's mostly here to look at cool swords?

As she usually does on calmer days, Fio is roaming the cruise ship. A bottled water is clasped in her hands, a bit of refreshment to tote around while she explores and passes the time. It's nearly empty. Tagging along with her is her plush bear, Judith, hovering about a foot above the small girl's shoulder.

When she comes upon the sports deck, she smiles big seeing Darcy. "Darcy!" Fio calls out excitedly, jogging over. And when she moves, the doll floats right after, seemingly pulled around by an invisible tether like a balloon.

Jinx had said that there was some sort of sports area where Deputy Pratt could maybe fashion a weapon better than the smiling shovel he'd arrived with. Granted it's not a gun and he really would rather have a gun, specifically his personal shotgun, but he can be adaptable.

Instead he comes across someone hunched over a bag of... swords.

Why are there so many fucking swords on this ship? Why didn't he get a sword...

"Did I miss some drill where everyone got a sweet sword except me?" Pratt's gruff voice sounds a bit like he's smoked ten packs a day for his entire life. He's not wearing his Deputy uniform, opting for the nicer clothes that Captain Stede picked out for him, but he does still carry himself a bit like a cop.

Undine doesn't know that Darcy's just killed someone. She's just texted to invite her to hang out on the pool deck, where she's wearing a Tommy Bahama sundress and dangling her feet in the water, head covered by a big floppy sunhat that looks a little ridiculous, but it's almost charming, almost.

"Ah, Miss Darcy."

Watson has been hoping to catch her on the sports deck for a little while, now, and today seems to be his lucky day.

"Fine day, isn't it?" Which isn't unusual, on this ship. "What are you up to?"

[and he does, a pretty little thing too since Stede is not particularly a fan of getting rained on no matter how fine or warm the rain. It's hell on silk.]

Hello, Darcy. Enjoying the weather?

Lucius is just trying to have breakfast. He's trying to have breakfast and work out a proper drink to order next time he wanders outside. It's pouring rain out, he's vaguely hung over, and he's had far too much sugar in the last week or so, so he's being good. (Or, as good as an 18th century pirate can be.) He has eggs, he has bread, he has oranges. It's practically a balanced breakfast, frankly, but he must still be tipsy because he could swear his shadow is making rude gestures at him.

He whips around with his tray, looking to catch it out, but it just...whips around the same way he does. He stares, it stays still. He moves, it moves with him. There's rain on the windows and he must look like a crazy man. Maybe he needs a stiff cup of tea. He sets his tray down on a table and moves toward the continental beverage bar and, halfway there, could swear he just watched his shadow flip him the double bird.

Phil is where he always is: the wedge of a rooftop, near the topmost point of the ship but not quite, up here with his instruments (real ones this time, metal and glass and accurate numbers) and a deck chair he's hauled so he can read while he whiles away the hours, with a glass of water at his feet. The library's stock is fiction-only, but it's literature besides. Not a terrible read. He thinks he's found a good one this time.

The two eyes in his shadow, though, that's unusual. Not that he takes much notice. He's busy.

The last package from sundries turned out to be a collection of trashy horror movies, and Natsuno's taking advantage of the pool deck screen throughout the month. If asked, he'll say it's research to get hints and insights on what the captain is up to, since his pocket dimensions are based on Earth media, but the truth is Natsuno just enjoys it. After living through actual horror, fictional horror is unintentionally funny and it's nice to spend his free time with something other than a book or arcade game.

He's having another movie night, watching The Texas Chainsaw Mackerel, about people who get stuck in a remote fishermen village only to be brutally murdered by a chainsaw-wielding cannibal in a fish mask. Suddenly, shadows moves across the screen and Fishscaleface is staring right at him through a pair of eyes that DEFINITELY don't belong there.

Natsuno jumps a little before frowning, both suspicious and embarrassed about his reaction, and gets up to try to get a closer look.

( OOC: hope it's okay! Natsuno will speak truth, up to you if Darcy is affected/aware of the effect )

Mizuki will stealth his way over to the pool as usual, going to spend his time ideally just swimming, but more than likely terrorizing new kidnappees instead, as per his recent track record. Instead, though, he finds that he isn't the first one who's made it there first, and his curiosity is very peaked. Thus, he'll find himself plopping down against one of the chairs and just watching within his camouflage for a while. If Darcy doesn't notice the shadow that definitely shouldn't be there sooner rather than later, he'll drop it after a particularly show-offy trick of hers so he can applaud.

"That's very cool!!" Yes, hi, hello. "I suppose this is the 'not magic' your world has~?"

Teehee.

Kore was leaning on the railing, dressed in a wrap-type dress so pale a pink it almost appears white. It appears (and is) made of a single length of cloth, wrapped around her and held on with a cord around her neck and a belt around her waist leaving her back mostly bare, and the skirt tied closed with brightly colored, tiny rubber bands leaving little kisses of color. It's also clearly not something one 'bought' here. She's also used a long sarong as a head scarf, letting it flow down her back. With the wing blowing, she's almost surrounded by a cloud of fabric.

She heard something and swallowed a startled noise at a girl climbing up one of the ship's walls, in a place slick enough she was certain even a mountain goat couldn't mange.

Threaded | Flat

[TRUTH] Reminding me to know I'm glad

Reminding me to know (lies)

sword gacha (truth)

[Truth] I have a fish stone burning my elbow

Wildcard

I have a fish stone burning my elbow

Reminding me to know... I have an umbrella.