come_sailaway | The fun develops instantly.

Who: Watson and You
When: Post Info Meeting
Where: Anywhere you care to be.
Summary: Watson has a Polaroid camera and he's trying to distract himself. That's about it.

It's a lot of complicated feelings that everyone's dealing with. Even if Watson knew some of the details, he didn't know all of it, and now that everyone knows the permanency of their current situation, and things are not working the way they have been... it's a lot.

And he doesn't know what to do with that.

So Watson, with the late 1990s Polaroid camera that he got in a gift box for some reason, is attempting to distract himself by taking candid photos of people. He's not the most gifted of photographers, and this is quite a bit fancier than even the most portable cameras of his own era, but the joy of autofocus does make the entire process a lot simpler.

Reading in the library? Leaning dramatically over the edge of the railing? Some other place where you think you might be alone in your thoughts? Be prepared for the sudden click and whirr of a camera, and Watson will come over, smiling, to offer you the developing photo.

Closed to César:

It is late, and someone needs to come to bed. After a bit of hunting, though, Watson finds César in the library, at work and oblivious of the time. He sighs, equally parts fond and exasperated, and takes a moment to take a picture of this, too. Surprise.

"It's late, and you ought to be sleeping."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sometimes a shallow answer is all someone is prepared to give, and Watson knows that perfectly well.

"It's... troubling," he says. "I don't think I realised how much we relied upon that restoration until it was gone. I suppose I can only hope it doesn't get worse than it is, and that no one manages to somehow sink this ship in the meantime."

He pauses. "I'm sorry, that's an awfully grim thought."

"It's also a realistic concern. I've been doing patrols to try and keep an eye on the damage. If this ship sinks, there aren't any landmasses we can try to head towards before we all drown."

"There's a barrier, in any case. We are caught here, in this patch of open ocean, and nowhere else."

Which is yet another impossible sounding thing, but that's just par for the course."

"At this point, the best we can do is hope the ship doesn't completely deteriorate and we don't lose food and drinkable water."

Hungry people got desperate.

He grunts.

"If you're a praying man, you might well try that, though whether gods can hear us here is certainly a theological debate I don't feel qualified to take on. Well. At least, for now, we're well provisioned and afloat. If we have to start making rafts out of the tables, we'll deal with that when it comes."

"Not a praying man. Just a man who doesn't want to go back to that."

Makeshift rafts would only do so much. With no way of replenishing the food and water supply, it would be better to drown quickly.

"We are in full agreement, then."

Watson sighs heavily. "Have you eaten lunch? I think I might head down to the buffet for a sandwich, while that is still something I can do. You're welcome to join me, if you're done training."

Six's first impulse was to decline, but he supposed he should at least try to get along with César's partners.

"I could use a break."

A light meal wouldn't be a terrible idea.

He smiles, pleased. He has more than a little curiosity about Six, after all, and he's had so little chance to indulge it. These things are important, you know. It's the closest thing he gets to meeting the in-laws. Six and Crabb, the in-laws.

He's never had to meet in-laws. Huh.

"Wonderful, thrilled to hear it." Watson shifts his weight against his cane and turns, trusting Six to follow him. "You and I haven't really had the opportunity to talk very much. Things have been, well, chaotic."

"The ship is constantly trying to kill us. I think that's a good reason for things to be chaotic."

However, Six fell into step just behind Watson. His eyes constantly scanned the area, keeping an eye out not just for new damages but potential trouble.

"True. Last month was quiet, but... sometimes we do get a quiet stretch of time. Historically, you know, that's often been the case."

Watson shakes his head. "'Historically' meaning since March, but that's all the history we have for this place. Still, we see patterns in these things."

"Still hard to believe so many people see that as normal."

It seemed like a weird version of Stockholm Syndrome.

"Apparently the human ability to find a sense of normal in abnormal circumstances is greater than I would have believed," Watson says, wryly. "But we do have quiet months, and eventful months. This may be an eventful month ahead of, but who can say?"

"The entire time I've been here could be considered 'eventful'. I'm going to have to assume 'quiet' is a relative term."

"Relative, yes. There was one month where it rained intermittently and anyone touched by the water was compelled to, apparently randomly, either lie or tell the truth. Inconvenient, certainly, but no one died. We never feared for our lives."

Watson shrugs. "I would call that a quiet month, yes."

"Sounds unpleasant enough."

Note to self: Keep an eye on the weather and assume it was going to cause issues until someone less wary proved otherwise.

Watson's mouth twists. "I keep a very rigorous diary. I always have. And it was exceedingly annoying to go back to it after the fact and discover that it was full of egregious lies."

"What I'm hearing is 'if the sky isn't clear, stay indoors and let someone else figure out what the weather is going to do'."

Because, honestly, that would be more than just annoying.

"Well, it's a data point of one, but the only other actual case of weather we had was when Pirate Jenny grew several feet and summoned a storm, so yes, as a general rule, rain here is something to be concerned about."

"Noted."

He placed his hands in his pockets as he walked. He wasn't the particularly talkative type, and right now he really didn't have anything to ask Watson about. The man's relationship with César wasn't any of his business, after all.

Well, it wasn't his business unless something came up that forced it to become his business.

The fun develops instantly.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject