be_seeing_you (
be_seeing_you) wrote in
come_sailaway2022-09-18 02:11 pm
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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
[ Seems like it's something impossible to know for sure, unless anyone here has actually seen someone get obliterated, as Smith so eloquently put it ]
no subject
[Don't be mad about his precise use of vocabulary, Steve.]
You are welcome to ask her about it yourself. But hers is one of the opinions I trust best on this ship.
no subject
I don't buy it. Sorry. I don't. The whole point of this ship is to make people suffer, right? That's what I've been told, anyway. [ He spreads his arms wide as if to say there you go. ] So if you kidnapped a bunch of people, what would be the number one best way to make sure they're as miserable as possible? Make it look like they can never go home. Obviously.
no subject
Last night should have been proof enough. I thought I could test his limits. I thought perhaps we might be somewhere beyond his absolute control. And yet, we came no closer to freedom than ever we were. I didn't want to believe it, either. But each day here a new piece of evidence is revealed that seems to corroborate what she said.
no subject
Okay, so? We just, what, give up? [ He shakes his head. ] I'm not doing it. I'm not staying here. Sorry if I'm not ready to believe what some random girl I've never met has to say.
[ He finally stands, leaving that glass of water forgotten on the floor for now. He's not as tall as Smith, but he doesn't let that intimidate him. He just squares his shoulders and looks him in the eye. ]
Are you going to try again?
[ Because Steve will absolutely try again. And again. And again. Whatever it takes. ]
no subject
[Number 6 remains an immovable force as Steve squares up to him. His expression barely even changes.]
Yes. I will try again. I'm no more content to stay on this ship today than I was last night.
no subject
Okay. Good. [ pause ] I wanna help. When you try again.
[ He stops just sort of saying please, though he may as well have with the pleading look he's got on his face. ]
no subject
I'm surprised you would trust me enough, but, if you insist...?
no subject
So far you and Lester are the only two people around here who seem to get that too. So yeah, I guess I insist.
no subject
[Number 6 actually was impressed. Steve handled it better than Arthur who must be at least a decade older. And now, seeing that mark around the boy's throat, Number 6 has an inkling that there is much more to this fresh-faced teen than meets the eye. He wants to ask where that came from, but he's already caused enough upset, hasn't he?]
When the time comes for me to make my next move, I will include you. You have my word.
no subject
[ It turns out his claims of having ~dinner with Smith~ were greatly exaggerated because he takes the opportunity now to pick up that glass of water from the floor, then heads back to the table to retrieve his plate with that untouched burger. He dumps it all in the trash (yes he pours a full glass of water in the trash, let him be) and leaves the dirty dishes there for retrieval by whoever. ]
I'm gonna go. I need to — [ think, he's going to say, but no. He's not going to think about this. He doesn't want to think about this. He shrugs. ] I'm gonna take a walk. Later, man.
[ And off he goes to call Smith an idiot to Arthur in a different thread. ]