come_sailaway | SEPTEMBER EVENT: SKULLY'S ANGELS

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SEPTEMBER EVENT: SKULLY'S ANGELS

[around 10:30PM, after Friday has returned from bringing all the other guests back to the ship, she parks the tender just off the shore, idling. she sticks her head out of the door.]

Good luck! Just come get me if you need anything! [beat] But, only if it’s something I can do without stepping outside! [beat] Have fun!

[she then pops back inside. they’re on their own, for now.

the salamander villagers have returned to their homes for the night, it seems… all but one, a smaller one, bedecked in leather armor and carrying a spear. they watch the group as they leave the beach, eyes fixed… and then, slowly but distinctly, they toss their head in the direction of inland, and turn away from them to begin a sort of watch.

perhaps that was salamander for good luck. you’ll need it.]

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Oh.

[a brief pause, before he crosses the distance between them. this time, when his back hits the wall, he doesn't bother to stay standing, sliding the floor beside the Captain.]

...What is it that's scaring you?

Hm... Knowing. That whatever I learn from this cannot be unlearned. No matter what it is.

[pause] It can't be that terrible. Can it?

[there's no way to know for sure. no way to test the waters or plan contingencies in case it's too much to bear. the Captain will have to go into this as blindly as they had to retrieve the object in question.]

...I don't think it can be any worse than what's already happening to you. But if you don't want to do this... [he has to. he has to. nothing will ever change if he doesn't.] ...I can't make you. Nobody can. But I can... be here for you. No matter the information you learn.

... Huh. It does feel a bit different, when you think you have a choice. [with mild surprise, like he's never even considered it before.

he lets out a long exhale, stretches out his legs in front of him... he shrugs out of his jacket first, placing it to the side. undoes the buttons on the sleeves. he pulls up his left sleeve first, revealing the silver cuff around his wrist. he then pulls up the right sleeve, revealing a splash of blackened scar tissue down the length of his forearm.]

... I suppose you can tell which one was correct, now.

[he watches silently as the jacket is removed, as the first cuff is revealed, even when the scarring is first exposed. his hands itch to move, everything inside winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. he needs to do something, anything, with this restless energy.

it takes a moment before he reaches into the pocket holding the cuff.]

"I don't know" is an acceptable answer, but... what's going to happen?

... Why don't we find out?

[a twitch of a grin, as he holds out his hands.]

[he pulls the cuff out of his pocket, staring down at it before tilting his head to fix his empty sockets on the Captain. he hands it over.]

[he takes the cuff. turns it around a few times, studying it. he taps it against the one on his wrist; there is a sound, like the peal of a bell, and he frowns at it. he presses it against his arm; the melted areas match with where the scarring begins.]

... Huh.

[silence]

[he considers something for a moment... nods firmly. turns to look at Skulduggery, meeting his gaze.]

Kill me.

[Skulduggery doesn't move, still staring. his voice is carefully neutral.]

Tell me why I should do that.

Because there is nothing else that can be done. Because everything I have been trying to do has been a complete waste of time for reasons entirely out of my control. Because control was never meant to be mine.

[he stares, unblinking, voice flat but with a slight manic speed to the cadence.]

There is only one option. Please.

[it would be so easy to become interrogative. to push and pry for the sort of straight answers the Captain never gives. it's what he does. it's the simplest way to get what he wants.]

...There's always another option. I can help you figure it out, if you'd just... talk to me.

Edited (phrasing is important) 2022-09-20 08:06 (UTC)

... I have... memory of a memory. What I was told about where I came from. I would have been far too young to remember. Far too young... They claimed I was even too young to be named, some of them.

There was a village of us. I couldn't tell you where. But, all of us lived there, all types... In the reality I come from, humans don't have internal magic, but they can use beings of magic as... conduits, I suppose. So, they take them. Attack using the human weapons that are so strong against us... They kill all the Marids. They're too willful to keep captive. The ifrit are worth more as parts for spells and potions. Livestock. The ones they really want... Jann. Ghuls, if they can find them; they don't live in settlements, usually... [pause] Sa’alin. Especially. Specifically.

[another pause]

So. That is all I remember. The tale a vague succession of masters would tell me. [pause] The next one won't know. A small blessing.

[information is good. it's... supposed to be good. there's no situation that can't be better understood, no darkness that can't be illuminated.

Skulduggery listens to the Captain speak, lets the information settle in bits and pieces, little weighted stones that would sink in his gut if he had one. it is terrible to learn and he isn't even the one affected.

he's glad, he thinks, that the Captain doesn't immediately ask to die again. he'll turn him away as many times as it takes but this... does throw the request into sharper light.]

I'm sorry. [but sympathy is only going to go so far.] If that's true, then... what about the Eterna? What about all of this?

A waste. Of time, life, effort... Tilting at windmills. Sisyphus pushing the boulder uphill. Searching for a cure to a disease I was born with. [bitterly] I can't even know for certain that what I feel for you is mine, or just the will of Stede Bonnet.

[he leans his head back on the wall, closing his eyes.]

You can end it here. You can give them all what they think they want. The only freedom I'll ever be able to grant to anyone. The only one available to me.

[so. that's how it's going to be.

an enormous amount of information like this needs to be processed, broken down, weighed against each other to determine what's workable and what's superfluous. it would be too much to ask for that time directly; the despair that's settling in is fit enough to suffocate either of them, should they have to breathe.

he bows his skull under that pressure, unmoving for a long moment. he knows that they wouldn't even realize what had happened. it would just... be over. immediate oblivion. finally getting to rest. most of them already would prefer that over being trapped here.

he lifts a grimy, gloved hand up, pinching one leather finger in his teeth and pulling his hand free. there's still blood and dirt and who knows what else on them, and a little of that sticks to his teeth, but it hardly matters.

he holds his bare hand out between them, palm up, and nudges the Captain's foot with his own to draw his attention.]

[he opens his eyes slightly, looking at the hand with an eyebrow raised. if his eyes are shining a bit more than they usually are, fuck you, no they aren't.]

[the fingers flex briefly.]

Give me your hand. [it's said gently, but it feels too close to an order. so he tacks on a softer, less certain,] Please?

[a pause.

he looks away, but... he holds his hand out to him, fingers just barely, hesitantly, touching his own.]

[it's enough proximity for him to slide their fingers together; it's a loose hold, easy to pull away from. unlike at the overlook, Skulduggery keeps his gaze on their interlocked hands.]

Stede Bonnet might have overwhelming willpower, but it wasn't until that first crew meeting that he got it into his head that something was going on between us. Before then? The pool? Karaoke?

[his fingers press against the ones between them.]

I don't know if you should give him so much credit.

... Hm. You really do have a talent for making it sound as if I have a say in the matter.

[... he squeezes back, tightly.]

Perhaps that's what I like...

It can't possibly be my charming personality and winning smile.

[just an ever so gentle tease.]

...Are... hm. [so many questions that need answers. he isn't even sure where to start. probably somewhere small.] ...How long can people live here safely? Not just the passengers, but you and Jenny. And Friday, for that matter.

I've never really thought about it. [frowns, shrugs] Until my death, I suppose. That's the only thing the homeostasis of this reality depends on. So, anywhere from right now to the end of forever.

Hmm. [that's a lot of time to work with, assuming the oblivion-minded among the passengers don't take matters into their own hands.] Gives me room to spread out the interrogation, at least. [wryly, as his conversation with Rin has left him feeling a certain sorta way about his ability to communicate]

So we stay here, on an unchanging ship for eternity. ...What if people wanted to go live with the salamanders instead? Could they do that? Leave this reality and insert themselves somewhere else?

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tw: suicidal ideation just. around.

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