be_seeing_you (
be_seeing_you) wrote in
come_sailaway2022-09-01 10:51 pm
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September Catch-All [OPEN]
Who: Number 6 & YOU
What: Trying out the new fencing gear he got, drawing portraits, casino daydreaming, trying to steal jewelry & more!
When: September 1st for fencing, thru the month for other prompts
Where: All over the ship, see individual prompts
Warnings Potential for violence, alcohol/smoking, will warn for more as necessary
Challenge him to a friendly duel
When the notification comes that he has a package waiting in Sundries, he has no earthly idea what to expect. But, he must say, once he's torn the nautical paper off to find a fencing practice kit inside, he is rather pleased. Well, with one exception. The Epee he's been provided is neither blunted nor is it tipped with plastic the way it should be for safety. It very much seems to be a live and dangerous blade. Admittedly, he's not too sorry to have a functional weapon given the characters around here, but it means he'll have to be especially careful when practicing with it.
He's up on the sports deck making use of one of the empty tennis courts as his makeshift practice arena. In the absence of a tip protector, he's wrapped some gauze and medical tape from the infirmary around the sharp tip in an effort to achieve close to the same effect. That way, when he stabs the wall at the back of the court, it leaves slightly less of a divot.
He puts himself through some familiar drills, re-familiarizing himself with his technique and generally working to improve his stance and remember his form. It's clear just from looking that he's had some experience with this. If only he had a proper partner to fence, alas.
Have your portrait drawn
He doesn't tend to flaunt it often, but Number 6 actually does have a bit of talent for the arts. Perhaps he's not the most creative of minds, but he's rather good at capturing likenesses in portraiture. So, on various days and in various places throughout the ship, such as the dining hall, the sports deck, the library, and even in some of the pubs and bars (or anywhere, your choice), he will sit himself down quietly in the corner with a pad of paper over his knee and a pencil in hand. Anyone who catches his interest may become the new subject of his drawing. For the most part, they are flattering renditions. He doesn't mind if someone wants to observe, he'll simply nod to them and keep scratching with his pencil until he's satisfied.
Once he completes his drawing, he'll approach his subject and hold out the sketch to ask, "Excuse me, I wondered if you might like this?"
Lost in the game
With a cigarette in hand and whiskey in front of him, he sits at one of the blackjack tables idly playing against an invisible dealer. It's hard to tell if he's enjoying himself. He's got a far-off look on his face as he idly scratches the table to request another "hit." Win or lose, he doesn't seem to have much of a reaction. His mind is obviously elsewhere. He's so zoned out, in fact, that on this rare occasion even someone who isn't particularly stealthy might be able to sneak up behind him unawares.
Jewelry shopping
Right. The time has come to investigate that jewelry store. Why is it that no one is allowed to take anything? Of all the places on this ship, why there? He can be found bending over the displays, scrutinizing the various pieces through the glass. There doesn't appear to be any way to get at them. Not any way that doesn't involve a bit of violence, that is. So be it.
He goes, briefly, to the nearest bar and brings back with him one of the bar stools. Raising it over his head, he prepares to bring it down on one of the cases. Little does he know, that won't be enough to shatter it no matter how many times he bashes the glass.
But, he has to try.
Wildcard!
Hit me up with anything! Feel free to plot with me over on plurk
KansaiBanzai or on discord Cmdr.Crackers#5481
What: Trying out the new fencing gear he got, drawing portraits, casino daydreaming, trying to steal jewelry & more!
When: September 1st for fencing, thru the month for other prompts
Where: All over the ship, see individual prompts
Warnings Potential for violence, alcohol/smoking, will warn for more as necessary
Challenge him to a friendly duel
When the notification comes that he has a package waiting in Sundries, he has no earthly idea what to expect. But, he must say, once he's torn the nautical paper off to find a fencing practice kit inside, he is rather pleased. Well, with one exception. The Epee he's been provided is neither blunted nor is it tipped with plastic the way it should be for safety. It very much seems to be a live and dangerous blade. Admittedly, he's not too sorry to have a functional weapon given the characters around here, but it means he'll have to be especially careful when practicing with it.
He's up on the sports deck making use of one of the empty tennis courts as his makeshift practice arena. In the absence of a tip protector, he's wrapped some gauze and medical tape from the infirmary around the sharp tip in an effort to achieve close to the same effect. That way, when he stabs the wall at the back of the court, it leaves slightly less of a divot.
He puts himself through some familiar drills, re-familiarizing himself with his technique and generally working to improve his stance and remember his form. It's clear just from looking that he's had some experience with this. If only he had a proper partner to fence, alas.
Have your portrait drawn
He doesn't tend to flaunt it often, but Number 6 actually does have a bit of talent for the arts. Perhaps he's not the most creative of minds, but he's rather good at capturing likenesses in portraiture. So, on various days and in various places throughout the ship, such as the dining hall, the sports deck, the library, and even in some of the pubs and bars (or anywhere, your choice), he will sit himself down quietly in the corner with a pad of paper over his knee and a pencil in hand. Anyone who catches his interest may become the new subject of his drawing. For the most part, they are flattering renditions. He doesn't mind if someone wants to observe, he'll simply nod to them and keep scratching with his pencil until he's satisfied.
Once he completes his drawing, he'll approach his subject and hold out the sketch to ask, "Excuse me, I wondered if you might like this?"
Lost in the game
With a cigarette in hand and whiskey in front of him, he sits at one of the blackjack tables idly playing against an invisible dealer. It's hard to tell if he's enjoying himself. He's got a far-off look on his face as he idly scratches the table to request another "hit." Win or lose, he doesn't seem to have much of a reaction. His mind is obviously elsewhere. He's so zoned out, in fact, that on this rare occasion even someone who isn't particularly stealthy might be able to sneak up behind him unawares.
Jewelry shopping
Right. The time has come to investigate that jewelry store. Why is it that no one is allowed to take anything? Of all the places on this ship, why there? He can be found bending over the displays, scrutinizing the various pieces through the glass. There doesn't appear to be any way to get at them. Not any way that doesn't involve a bit of violence, that is. So be it.
He goes, briefly, to the nearest bar and brings back with him one of the bar stools. Raising it over his head, he prepares to bring it down on one of the cases. Little does he know, that won't be enough to shatter it no matter how many times he bashes the glass.
But, he has to try.
Wildcard!
Hit me up with anything! Feel free to plot with me over on plurk
no subject
But bare bone facts? That can't really hurt, save for unintentionally opening doors for more questions. So to his question, she gives a slight nod. "There are no gardens like those in space."
They had hydroponic farms, sure, as the one and only source of food. But the florescent lighting doesn't match the simple beauty of sunlight Clarke could almost feel on her face when gazing at pages of Berthe Morisot.
"Later in life, though, I got to see Starry Night in person. And you're right, there's no real faulting his talent." It was a shame the backdrop for so many fine works had later proved the grounds for a massacre.
no subject
"Starry Night is indeed a masterpiece, but that one was painted by Vincent van Gogh, I'm afraid."
no subject
"See? This is why I need to study."
The anecdote about being born in space falls by the wayside. People often underestimate the shock value of their own lives.
no subject
"Are there many art galleries in space?"
no subject
Any bristling discontent that they'd reverted back to her mention of space is masterfully shrouded in a simple shrug — he can't see the way her tongue presses to the back of her teeth in distaste.
"None, actually."
no subject
"What was it like? What did you have, if not galleries?"
no subject
Metaphorically stomps on his toes.
But give any significant breath of silence following, and some of the proverbial pressure lets up. She's told more people less, and less people more. It isn't like facts about a dilapidated space station that no longer exists is going to weaken any defense mechanisms.
"...and fluorescent lighting. And darkness, with big reinforced windows where you could see... so many stars, the glow of Earth still drowning them out. And whatever we could make, or our predecessors saw fit to bring on board. But not much else."
no subject
"That sounds suffocating. But, in the absence of any other experience, I hope it was more tolerable to you than that?"
no subject
no subject
no subject
Mass cullings.
A lights-out policy that cut out the oxygen to the lower portions of the ship while the populace slept, so low that small children and the elderly appeared with pronounced signs of hypoxia induced blindness throughout the following weeks.
The unilateral upper control decision to send a hundred juvenile delinquents — the only offenders onboard the Ark that weren't immediately executed — to the ground in equal parts science experiment and death sentence, buying the rest of them at least a month of air...
All good answers. All still deeply distressing wounds, the last of which had directly affected Clarke after a year long stint in solitary confinement for being the daughter of a whistleblower. But for the most part she tells herself that they're past that now, all the survivors are. And thus when she speaks, she speaks of her people as a whole unit.
"We had to go to Earth and hope it was survivable. It was — we'd discounted that solar radiation would mutate our DNA and we'd be able to survive in the ambient radiation levels left on ground. That's where I saw Starry Night."
no subject
"It must have been something close to a religious experience for you, see it up close?"
He pauses to think on where he last knew the Van Gogh painting to be. The Museum of Modern Art, wasn't it?
"That would put your landing in New York, wouldn't it? Unless the painting was since moved."
no subject
"It was everything I'd ever dreamed it could be, at first. Then more than we were ever prepared for." Earth Skills 101 didn't include invading foreign territory and going to war with a bunch of untrained teenagers against 300 battle hardened Grounder warriors. And that'd just been the beginning.
"And no, Virgina." Close enough it hardly warrants mention, but. Mount Weather had proved a formative part of her Earthly experience, and it'd been deep in the bowels of the mountain bunker that she'd seen fine art that predated the end of the world. "My guess was always, museums had an evacuation and storage plan for if there was going to be a nuclear event. Paintings more important than people..."
no subject
"That would be a good guess, I think. I wish I could say I'm more surprised. Some forget that the art is worth nothing if there is no one there to witness it." He hopes that should tell her where he stands on the issue. Life should be preserved above all else.
"But you were there. And, personally, I think Van Gogh would be pleased to know his vision was appreciated all those years later, because it never was while he was alive. He received no acclaim for his work and lived in terrible poverty. And now he is celebrated. A good example, isn't it, of how skewed human priorities can become, or how easily they can change."
no subject
"Yeah," she says, dry and bordering on rueful. "Well, it's always easier to celebrate the dead; the living are the one's who still place expectations on you. Inanimate objects, too; they just sit there unchanging, and never disappointing."
think we can wrap this one?
"But always remember, it's the living who have the power to create. So, keep up your studies, hm?"
yup!
It dawns on Clarke — belatedly, because of course it's belated — that she's shared more here than intended. They'd surpassed art, and moved onto actual, personal histories which leaves her feeling exposed and vulnerable. A few too many layers peeled back from the onion. And thus, when catching wind of an out to this conversation, she takes it.
She'd never sat down, and now just hefts her "studying" supplies more securely in her arms and pivots her body away, clear intention she means to leave soon. But not without a last, sassy, parting sentiment.
"Of course. That's what I was trying to do before I saw you over here, sucking at cards." Her eyebrows make a trek up her forehead, a silent and dubious duh. But it's at odds with the pinched corners of her mouth; no real humor or superiority here.
"If you get better, we should play."
And, unless otherwise inhibited, Clarke's turning to leave. To exit the casino entirely, instead of continuing on to her little hidden corner. Gonna have to find another place to recklessly practice blood magic, he's too keen eyed.