be_seeing_you (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
be_seeing_you) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-09-18 02:11 pm
be_seeing_you) wrote in come_sailaway2022-09-18 02:11 pm
Entry tags:
- far cry new dawn: sharky boshaw,
- generator rex: six,
- groundhog day musical: phil connors,
- ikemen sengoku: nobunaga oda,
- infinity train: ryan akagi,
- lavender jack: johnny summer,
- rwby: ruby rose,
- shiki: natsuno yuuki,
- skulduggery pleasant: skulduggery,
- stranger things: steve harrington,
- tales of the abyss: jade curtiss,
- the locked tomb: palamedes sextus,
- the prisoner: number 6
Die Another Day [Post-Death Open Post + some closed]
Who: Number 6 & YOU
What: Waking up from death after a sliiiight miscalculation
Where: Cabin 113 + Other places around the ship, just going about his day like nothing happened
When: The day after the beach party
Warnings: discussion and depictions of death, trauma, grief
That was unpleasant.
Pain is the last thing he remembers. Pain, and the distant sounds of screams. One of the voices may have been his. The black abyss they'd tipped into was akin to being swallowed whole in a nightmare. Fittingly, when you die in a nightmare you wake up. So too, does Number 6 awaken again at exactly 6:00 am the next morning, safe in bed. But not safe from the memory of the black and the way it scraped at his mind like a dull cheese grater.
He lies there a moment reorienting himself. Above him, the sight of his familiar cabin roof is both sickening and a comfort. He's alive. He's... unharmed? Why does that fact make him furious? He'd hoped, foolishly, that if he did meet death out there on the water it would be the kind that lasts. It would free him from the fate of being tied forever to the Eterna. No such luck. But if he's here then... Arthur! And young Steve! They must be just waking up as well.
There's no time to wallow in his failure. If he must continue to live here, then he may as well get on with it. He should go see how his fellows are doing. He thought he saw a group of people lingering on the beach after the last call went out. Were they planning their own escape, or was there something else going on? The only way to find out is to get out of here and go see for himself.
Number 6 can be found all around the ship, going about his day like he didn't just fall off the edge of the map like a chump. And, no, he really doesn't want to talk about it, thanks very much. (So definitely bring it up to him, wink.) He kicks off this brand new day with his usual routine of training on the sport's deck. Does he seem like he's hitting that punching bag just a little harder than is necessary?
After training and then a long shower, he'll go down to Sand Dollars to order himself a coffee (yes, you heard that right) and a cake. Today, apparently, he's making an exception about his no sugar rule. He'll stay there for an hour, reading a book with an aura radiating off him that threatens violence to anyone that approaches. (But when has anyone let that stop them?)
Full of caffeine and sugar, he'll spend the next part of the day pacing the decks and the promenade, feeling the need to just move and keep moving. During that time, he will realize with dismay that he knows neither Arthur nor Steve's cabin numbers, so he will either have to ask someone else or wait to find them on his own. Mostly, he's choosing the latter.
He finished the book Clara gave him this morning over his coffee, so once the pacing gets too tiring, he tries popping back into the library to find something else. All he ends up doing is staring at the titles without hardly reading them. He's not really in the mood.
Eventually, he will drag himself to the Windjammer for an evening meal. And sit alone. As one does when trying to avoid talking to anyone about their first death experience. He's got himself an entire plate of bangers and mash but he's mostly just pushing it around his plate. He just keeps seeing the black. Over and over. How is he going to sleep tonight? He supposes he will cross that bridge when he comes to it. Which won't be until well after midnight this time. He's got some more pacing on the deck to do first.
But he's fine. Really. He's fine. There's no need for anyone to talk to him about this. Ever.
What: Waking up from death after a sliiiight miscalculation
Where: Cabin 113 + Other places around the ship, just going about his day like nothing happened
When: The day after the beach party
Warnings: discussion and depictions of death, trauma, grief
That was unpleasant.
Pain is the last thing he remembers. Pain, and the distant sounds of screams. One of the voices may have been his. The black abyss they'd tipped into was akin to being swallowed whole in a nightmare. Fittingly, when you die in a nightmare you wake up. So too, does Number 6 awaken again at exactly 6:00 am the next morning, safe in bed. But not safe from the memory of the black and the way it scraped at his mind like a dull cheese grater.
He lies there a moment reorienting himself. Above him, the sight of his familiar cabin roof is both sickening and a comfort. He's alive. He's... unharmed? Why does that fact make him furious? He'd hoped, foolishly, that if he did meet death out there on the water it would be the kind that lasts. It would free him from the fate of being tied forever to the Eterna. No such luck. But if he's here then... Arthur! And young Steve! They must be just waking up as well.
There's no time to wallow in his failure. If he must continue to live here, then he may as well get on with it. He should go see how his fellows are doing. He thought he saw a group of people lingering on the beach after the last call went out. Were they planning their own escape, or was there something else going on? The only way to find out is to get out of here and go see for himself.
Number 6 can be found all around the ship, going about his day like he didn't just fall off the edge of the map like a chump. And, no, he really doesn't want to talk about it, thanks very much. (So definitely bring it up to him, wink.) He kicks off this brand new day with his usual routine of training on the sport's deck. Does he seem like he's hitting that punching bag just a little harder than is necessary?
After training and then a long shower, he'll go down to Sand Dollars to order himself a coffee (yes, you heard that right) and a cake. Today, apparently, he's making an exception about his no sugar rule. He'll stay there for an hour, reading a book with an aura radiating off him that threatens violence to anyone that approaches. (But when has anyone let that stop them?)
Full of caffeine and sugar, he'll spend the next part of the day pacing the decks and the promenade, feeling the need to just move and keep moving. During that time, he will realize with dismay that he knows neither Arthur nor Steve's cabin numbers, so he will either have to ask someone else or wait to find them on his own. Mostly, he's choosing the latter.
He finished the book Clara gave him this morning over his coffee, so once the pacing gets too tiring, he tries popping back into the library to find something else. All he ends up doing is staring at the titles without hardly reading them. He's not really in the mood.
Eventually, he will drag himself to the Windjammer for an evening meal. And sit alone. As one does when trying to avoid talking to anyone about their first death experience. He's got himself an entire plate of bangers and mash but he's mostly just pushing it around his plate. He just keeps seeing the black. Over and over. How is he going to sleep tonight? He supposes he will cross that bridge when he comes to it. Which won't be until well after midnight this time. He's got some more pacing on the deck to do first.
But he's fine. Really. He's fine. There's no need for anyone to talk to him about this. Ever.
no subject
"Jenny is rightfully upset with me for consigning her back to the ship. It was either that or let her die." Which probably needs more explanation. "She was on the island looking for the same thing the Captain sent us for. We enlisted her help in retrieving the item from the center of the island." He isn't specifying what the item is. This amount of transparency is dangerous enough. "We triggered a magical defense mechanism as we did so, and were afflicted by a series of curses on our way back to the tender. We had just reached the beach when Jenny..."
He lifts a hand and pulls his thumb across his neck.
no subject
Given what started this conversation, Skulduggery probably won't be shocked at Number 6's reaction to this news. A dark scowl settles into the fines lines around his eyes.
"You should have let her die. I can see now why she wants to rip you bone from bone." That Skuldugery is still here to talk at all is impressive. Unless the Captain is now protecting his pet from her?
"When you say 'we' who is included in that?"
no subject
"I'm not hiding from her," he says, having avoided the atrium the entire time Jenny had been moping there. "She's welcome to torture me however she sees fit. But her brothers are still here, and I'd rather one god be mad at me than three." Which is a fair, if surface-level, excuse. (Smith, he imagines, will not appreciate Friday's plea for a happier ending than Jenny bleeding out in the tender. Even if he did, it likely wouldn't change his mind.)
"When I say we, I mean myself and the others I asked to help me." Cagey, but only for a moment as he tilts his head, trying to get a sense of their conversation's privacy. "Max, Ava, and Darcy." The three he knows won't object to being tied to him on this. Of course, any notion of keeping any identities secret is pointless, given Jenny's arrival on the ship. "Jade and Izzy as well."
no subject
"Perhaps Jenny will forgive you if you help her find them. If not, you may have an uncomfortable eternity here." He shrugs. Skulduggery seems to know the grave he's dug for himself.
Besides, Number 6 has something new to be upset about. So, this is why he came across Ava desolate and crying in the showers. This is what had gone so wrong.
"I hope whatever it was you uncovered was worth the pain it seems to have put them through. If the state I found Ava in is anything to go by."
no subject
However, he almost, almost allows himself to be catty enough to call out the fact that his companions survived his mission, whereas Smith's did not. But he isn't interested in having that sort of petty fight, especially not out in the open like a couple of aggressive university students after a bender.
"Time will tell, I suppose." Which he knows must be infuriating to hear, but he does genuinely need time to sort out how to tell everyone the things he's learned these past 24 hours, let alone the last few months. "And what about the pain you put yourself through? Was that worth it?"
It's less judgmental an accusation this time around. If the island had been one of his very first excursions, he likely would have done the same thing as Smith. The only difference is that he's learned too much to warrant blind risk-taking. ...Too much of it, anyway.
no subject
At the vaguery of that reply, he simply shakes his head. Of course he never expected to get a straight answer. He's gotten more than he expected already.
And now he will return the favor with that same answer thrown right back. "I suppose time will tell. Won't it?"
no subject
"I'll have the information organized before long. And then, assuming Jenny hasn't taken to picking me apart piece by piece, I will do my best to share what I've learned with everyone." Because at this point, he knows it bears mentioning: "I don't plan on keeping everything to myself."
no subject
"I will look forward to learning more then." That does satisfying him, for now. He wants answers, but he is far from the only one who deserves them.
"I wish you the best of luck, then, with Jenny."
no subject
"If you see her around, you can point her towards the Chatterbox. I'll be there later, and I'm sure she'll find some creative ways to take me apart on stage."
no subject
"I'll give her your invitation if I happen to run into her again. Perhaps the two of you can share a duet before the inevitable."
no subject
"Take care of yourself until then, Mr. Smith. I'm sure we'll talk again soon." You know, after he's given everybody else a dreadful fit...