come_sailaway | I'm on a train

Who: Marc Spector & You
What: September catchall
When: Throughout September
Where: Various locations
Warnings: Nothing in particular besides one prompt with co-dependent alters.

prompt I (lounge)

Marc has zero artistic talent to speak of. He's not an arts of crafts kind of guy any more than he's the type to sit with his nose in a book (though he's become increasingly that type with limited television around these parts). But he still has some tucked away supplies from that dumb summer camp experience and it gives him something to do with his hands to sit and scribble. It's nothing in particular, no discernable items. Just pencils on paper, maybe a stupid one-finned fish like he gave his brother shit about drawing once upon a time.

... So karma dictates someone should probably give him shit for drawing knockoff Nemo.

prompt II (pool bar)

Better than stewing over whiskey, right? You can't get that drunk on fruity, frozen drinks... that easily. Maybe. Either way, at least he's out in the sunshine and not locked away in his cabin, even if the dark circles under his eyes speak of a lack of sleep. That's not unusual for Marc and overall, he doesn't seem to be in that horrible of a mood as he eyes his next drink.

"You know, for something called Lava Flow, I'm not sure I was expecting something so sweet."

prompt III (sand dollars)

Is living on caffeine better than main lining booze? Marginally, hopefully. Anyway, it's less likely to upset anyone if Marc sits quietly in a corner booth, nursing cups of coffee than it is if he goes and drinks or pills himself into oblivion. Sometimes he looks entirely zoned out, other times, he might make a bit of an awkward nod of his head in greeting.

He won't say no if somebody wants to slide in across from him.

prompt iv (for Steven;)

He's got no idea what the time is, actually. He's been staring at the ceiling so long, his eyes feel dry and scratchy and even the times he's closed his eyes to try to fall asleep-- it hasn't happened. He jerks awake the very minute he feels even the start of a dream coming on. He somehow feels both restless like he needs to move and like his limbs weigh a ton. His brain doesn't quite turn off either.

Either he gets up now or he spends a long, frustrating night driving himself crazier. If he was any kind of good guy, he'd slip out and leave Steven alone. But he's not. He doesn't want to be alone right now, so that's what has him rustling the covers a little as he squirms to his side, watching Steven's back before quietly--

"Hey, you awake?"

prompt v (wildcard;)

[Want to do something not listed here? Hit me up or leave a prompt!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

At least here -- there's less prep to worry about and plenty of options for Steven to try and sate that side of himself. There's something-- well, entertaining, watching Steven experience things. Seeing the enthusiasm and the interest, even over mundane things.

Not that he's gonna be ridiculous enough to say it, or make it too obvious. Steven gets weirded out enough by the fly-on-the-wall comments without making him put up with it now that they're not in the same body.

"Yeah-- sounds good." And even if Steven had suggested the worst thing on the menu, Marc's shoved down enough questionable shit in his life to not really care all that much.

"There's an apple crisp on the menu," he points out. It'd be more vegan friendly than some of the other options, he figures.

"Oh yes. We should try that too." Hopefully they won't get sideeyed when they make their indulgent, gluttonous order. Which only consists of four or five dishes and a couple of drinks, sure, but it's the middle of the night.

"You know, I hate that all these evil magicians have come into our lives, but. My life was also terribly boring. Not sure I could really go back to it now. Is that-- selfish, do you think?"

C'mon, the ghosts have no room to judge, and neither do any of the people still hanging around. They've earned the right to stress eat a little bit, right?

"Selfish? Nah. You deserved some adventure, Steven... just wish it would've been something better than." He makes a vague motion. Angry Gods, cults, crazy ships... the Duat.

“Better than you?” Steven teases with a lighthearted laugh. “Of course I suppose I’m out of your league. But I had you. And I got to have a happy childhood, with mum and dad who were always there for me and a miraculously disaster-free bar mitzvah. And you were always there for me when things got too hard, or even when they didn’t, and you made sure I was taken care of anyway. I could have died living vicariously through fake postcards experiencing nothing more than the four walls of a museum gift shop, but I got to go to Egypt and meet Layla and save the world. I have been angry with you. And I will be, sometime in the future. I don’t— always agree with how you do things. I don’t think you know how it makes other people feel. But you gave me this life. You have been your brother’s keeper every night and every day. What more could I have ever asked for?”

Steven reaches over the table and squeezes Marc’s hand fondly. “Come on mate. We’re dead now. No use dwelling on all that too much.”

It's not fair to be that sweet to him. How's he supposed to counter that? Well-- he could. Marc Spector is always good at reminding others he's... not that great. But maybe part of him doesn't want to when Steven is laughing like that, when he sounds content for once.

He could have asked for so much more than the life he got, but--

He curls his hand around Steven's, huffing out a laugh of his own. "Yeah, well-- I got what I wanted to. I got to see you happy. Knew you got all that stuff. Hopefully I still manage to at least make you a little happy, even like--" This. It still feels wrong, being separated. They're supposed to be together.

But they can't change that. They can at least try to make the most of it though.

“It— hasn’t been easy,” Steven admits. He’s wanted Marc out of his life for a while but he’s finding living on his own to come with more challenges than he’s comfortable admitting. It’s not Marc’s fault they’re split up like this. And they’re both doing the best they can, really.

“But I’d rather be stuck here with you than without.” Steven wouldn’t last a week on his own, even if all he did was shuttle back and forth between the library and occasionally pop into a place like this for food.

“Don’t worry about me alright? Well. Don’t worry too much...” Steven’s aware that he’s generally a cause for worry, even when he tries his best not to be.

The drinks arrive at their table in short order. He expects the food to take a while in the oven, but they can at least hold their drink stems and ~~not be so gay in public~~ act appropriately.

“I hope I’m not keeping you up at night at least. I want for you to be able to rest too. That’s what being dead is all about, innit? Resting ~in peace.~”

"I know." It hasn't been easy. Marc came in and wrecked his life even more than when he'd kept to the shadows. But-- it doesn't matter now, does it? He can't change it, and Steven won't just... accept him leaving like that. He wants him around.

Now they've got a night fooling around in the back of a car to complicate things, even if it feels like a significantly better complication than usual. Even if Marc is sure he's gonna fuck it up somehow.

"Yeah, well... sorry, buddy. Worrying about you is second nature." But he can try to dial it back. A tiny bit.

He takes his own drink and brings it up for a sip. "C'mon. I'd go crazy if it was all resting. You would too. Gotta find some kind of excitement somewhere."

"I'm-- getting better about being on my own," Steven points out, wringing his hands a bit. He can admit that Marc's been really helpful but he knows he can't always rely on Marc. He wants to be more independent. Let Marc worry less. Surely Marc wants that too, doesn't he? Since he's not as keen to-- absorb Steven back into himself or whatever.

"I thought that's what dying was all about. Just resting." Clearly not. There's only little pockets of R&R to be had while the ship burns around them apparently.

"Well. This beats fighting off sand zombies, at any rate. You know something's off when dying is more exhausting than living."

"I know you are." He's not-- bothered by that. He's gonna worry about Steven, regardless. And there's no sense in thinking about what they were, is there? It's not like there's an option to share a body again. They're trapped in this piece of shit place and they just.

Have to deal with what they got.

"I wish, buddy." A long rest. Not existing. He'd take any of it - some days more than others.

"Gotta say, so far, I'm not impressed with the dying business. Makes me regret wishing for it all the time." Somewhat.

"I thought healing was Khonshu's curse, but... it kept us out of the Duat for a long time."

"Marc..." Steven frowns deeply. He's not sure what he can do to make Marc less self-destructive. Only that he has to do something about it. Steven doesn't feel one way about it or another particularly strongly. It would be nice to stick around a bit longer. Do some things he's always wanted to do. But he doesn't want Marc to be unhappy or feel like he's suffering just to be here a while longer.

Nothing should really be on Steven's schedule. And he might just be a burden that Marc needs to keep looking after like this. But he's a little bit scared of just. Going out the way Marc wants to go out.

"I mean... we could keep ourselves out of the Duat. If we just kept ourselves out of trouble." He's not thanking Khonshu for anything. Stupid. Mean bird.

"Yeah, well... I feel like we won't have to worry about the Duat for a bit." They're here now, on whatever sort of hell cruise they've landed themselves in this time. It'll be fine.

And he isn't-- unhappy right now. Not with Steven around. Maybe he's not happy as he could be, overall, but he isn't running off to end it either.

"We'll be more careful going forward."

I'm on a train

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject