Pack it up, pack it in,

[saltwaterlungs]

CHARACTERS: Darcy, and YOU?!
DATE: First half of September prior to the event
LOCATION: Sports deck
SITUATION: A pirate-sponsored fight club for the sake of beating the shit out of each other bettering each other
WARNINGS: It’s a fight club. Violence is to be expected.

I came to win

Fliers go up around the ship, as they so often do. This time put up with a reasonable amount of tape and written in a much less flowery hand than people would expect, the announcement ‘FIGHT CLUB TUESDAY EVENINGS SPORTS DECK: MAKE FRIENDS AND THEN HIT THEM’.
Anyone going to the sport’s deck after 7pm for the Tuesdays before the excursion will find tennis court set up for an impromptu fight club. There’s a notebook with a pen off to one side as a sign-in sheet, and a small list of rules written in the same handwriting as the fliers.
-No killing or dying
-Respect tapping out
-If you’re learning, respect your teacher/s
-If you’re teaching, respect your student/s
-Cause problems, get kicked out

Off to the sidelines, Darcy can be found supervising, keeping an eye out for any issues.

Battle me that's a sin

In one corner is supplies for fencing and swordplay. Three protective jackets, mesh masks, and blunt training sabers in a loose pile, plus whatever weaponry people themselves supply. There’s a circular arena drawn out on the ground, with a narrower fencing piste drawn through the middle of it.

I won't ever slack up

For those more inclined to hand-to-hand combat, a couple of the punching bags from the gym have been dragged out onto the court, along with focus-pads and a couple of long strips of bandages bandages to wrap one’s hands with. An arena has been drawn out, about the right dimensions for a boxing ring.

Punk you better back up

Over on the furthest side- deliberately angled to face off the ship- there’s a makeshift shooting range consisting of a bunch of water bottles and some mannequins from the Tommy Bahama laid out as targets to shoot at. A line has been drawn on the ground, presumably to stand behind when shooting.

Try and play the role and yo the whole crew'll act up

Right in the middle of everything is an arena marked out for no clear purpose, with no equipment nearby. It can probably be presumed that this is somewhere for people to spar, or more likely, show off in front of everyone.

Comments

[pinballer]

"No, but the fact that I did at all means I'm the worst one here, doesn't it?" he says, "Why would you wanna be friends with the biggest jerk?"

[saltwaterlungs]

"Max nearly ran me over with his car. Two separate people have shoved me in water, and like, they didn't know? But my first death was drowning. People hurt each other because people suck. But I've hurt people too. Like, badly. All anyone can do is just... do better next time, ehn? Nobody's a saint and nobody's irredeemable. You just... need to not do the shit again next time."

She pushes open the door to the infirmary, huffing upon not seeing an attendant. Guess she's doing this herself.

[pinballer]

"Yeah, whatever," he says, which is about as close to an 'I'll try' as he's willing to get.

He follows her into the infirmary, looking down at his bruised and bloodied hands. "I did it once, you know. Broke through the wall. Tore the place apart, he had to spend a fortune fixing it up. If the goddamned freezer wasn't in the way I would've made it out."

And he's still clinging onto that as proof that he's as tough as he says he is, like it's the only thing he did with his life that he's still proud of.

[saltwaterlungs]

"The dude who killed you?" she asks as she rummages through the supplies. She goes to pelt a box of painkillers in his direction before very quickly remembering he's in no state to catch anything, and instead retrieves one of those electrolyte drinks for Vance to take them with and a couple of ice packs for his hands. She leaves the blister pack near him, because if he's anything like her, removing the tablets for him will be taken as an insult and not an act of care.

Then it's further into the cupboard for antiseptic wipes and long strips of bandages. She has no idea what you're really meant to do with hands fucked up from punching, but wrapping them is meant to keep your hand bones in the right place, so hopefully? Wrapping them now will help keep them in the right spot?

"Badass. Like a one-man wrecking crew or something. 'm sorry you didn't make it out."

When he's ready, she'll be waiting with the wipes and bandages to start sorting his hands out.

[pinballer]

"Yeah. It helped take him down, even if it was too late for me," he says, "Me and the other ghosts, we all got together and told the next kid how to take him out."

Getting the painkillers out hurts, and so does grabbing the drink, but he doesn't complain. He's rather do it on his own than let someone else hold it up for him like he's helpless.

"So I'm not totally fucking useless at the teamwork thing. I'm just better at it when there's someone who needs their ass beat," he says, sighing as he holds his hands out for the bandages. That part, he can't do himself.

[saltwaterlungs]

"The dead are our superheroes," she misquotes, "They face fire without flinching, fall from tall buildings, something something. I can't remember how the rest of it goes. It's something one of my Krewemates used to say. You did a good thing for that kid."

"This is going to hurt," she warns as she sets about cleaning his hands with the wipes. It stings like a motherfucker, and Darcy's nothing but neutral and methodical as she goes about her task, trying to remember how Terre Mere used to patch her up and talk her through it.

"Deep breaths. Pain is just a sensation. If you don't hold onto it, it'll pass through you."

She half-starts the bandaging, then scrunches her face up as she tries to recall how to do it on someone else's hands. That part is maybe not the most comforting.

[pinballer]

"It wasn't for the kid. It was to drag that fucker down," he says, teeth clenched as he braces himself for the pain, "And don't worry about it. Pain's nothing."

Of course everything that happened to him at the Grabber's house hurt. But the fear and the hopelessness was worse. The thought that he was just going to suffer and then be snuffed out forever.

"Jesus Christ," he says, wincing as she wipes his wounds, "It's fine, keep going."

[saltwaterlungs]

"It can be both."

Darcy pauses with the cleaning for just a moment, because Vance is still not fucking listening to her even when it would actually help him.

"I said deep breaths. Just... try and relax. The harder you try and muscle through it, the more it's going to hurt. Repeat something in your head, think about the alphabet backwards, whatever, just don't focus on the pain."

[pinballer]

"I'm not a fucking wuss, just keep going," he says, biting down on his bottom lip.

The alphabet backwards is impossible, he thinks, but he thinks about some of his favorite songs instead and it manages to distract him just enough.

[saltwaterlungs]

Fine, he wants to prove he's a tough guy, she'll oblige him. Darcy presses ever-so-slightly harder than she needs to with the wipes. She's been careful with the already-forming bruises on his hands up until now, but tough guys get the tough guy treatment. His hands are nearly cleaned up anyway.

[pinballer]

He inhales sharply at the pain, but he doesn't complain about it, or even ask how much longer it'll take.

[saltwaterlungs]

Of course he wasn't. Darcy takes a breath and wraps up the cleaning, now that all the fight bites from the bricks had been cleaned up and stopped bleeding. Look at that- she's right, people are the worst and Darcy's included in that.

Time for the wrapping, then. It's slow, methodical work as she wraps the strip of gauze around his hand, trying to keep decent pressure on it while also not aggravating the bruises too much more.

[pinballer]

He purses his lips, powering through the pain until she's done.

"I'll still fight when we have to, even if it's not all healed yet," he says.

[saltwaterlungs]

"Are you trying to annoy me on purpose? Like, are you sitting there thinking 'I hope this annoys Darcy' before you say it?"

She finishes the wrapping with a bandage clip and makes a disgusted noise.

"Don't be a fucking idiot. Fuck your hands up further and you'll get worse at fighting. You want that?"

[pinballer]

"You get annoyed by everything so it's not like it's hard," he says, scowling, "But no, I just don't want you to think I'm a fucking wimp who'll sit there and be useless because I'm in a bit of pain."

[saltwaterlungs]

Touché. She rolls her eyes as the equivalent of acknowledging he's scored the point.

"Okay. Cool. I don't think you're a wimp. Don't fuck your hands up worse."

[pinballer]

"Whatever," he says, rolling his eyes in return, "I know how to take care of myself. I can't play pinball if my hands're fucked, so I'll only fight if it's really important."

[saltwaterlungs]

"You play pinball?" she asks, wiping her hands off and putting what she can away or in the bin.

"Lucky we have an arcade then, ehn?"

[pinballer]

"Used to," he says. He didn't actually mean to admit his pinball addiction to her but it's out in the open now. "I was the best. No one could beat me."

His boasting is half-hearted at best, even though Vance loves to boast. Pinball was something the old Vance enjoyed. Now having fun like that feels kind of silly and childish. He should be focusing on revenge or finding a way out, not on stupid games.

"Maybe it'll be fun again someday."

[saltwaterlungs]

"Eventually it does. I'm the best fucking fencer on this ship, and it feels good kicking people's asses in it."

And yet, the old self that died persists in these strange new versions of themselves.

"You play any fighting games? Tekken? That sort of shit?"

[pinballer]

"Never heard of it. They used to have Pong where I lived, but the machine broke. I prefer pinball, anyway," he says.

He died shortly before Space Invaders, so unfortunately he missed out on all the cool arcade games that followed.

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy shuts the cupboard.

"If you ever want to get your ass kicked in something other than real life, I'm pretty good at them. So."

She's not, she just button-mashes against the AI.

With that, Darcy moves to leave and get back to supervising.