Rich Goranski (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firewalled) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-10-04 07:06 pm
firewalled) wrote in come_sailaway2022-10-04 07:06 pm
[Open] Hands of time, where's that chime?
Who: Rich and you, whoever you may be
What: Rich... tries to deal. As usual, he's not very good at it.
When: All through the month of October!
Where: The lounge, the pool, Mikabo, and Sand Dollars
Warnings: Probably quite a bit of mental health talk. Near-death experiences involving drowning. Paranoia that may lead to violence, but of course I'll be communicating OOCly if it went that far. I'll warn if anything else comes up, but please use his opt-out if you don't vibe with certain aspects of his character!
Lounge (Beginning half of the month)
César's taught him to sew.
That is definitely the only important thing that Rich has learned as of late. Yes. Definitely.
He has a whole stack of t-shirts his jefe retrieved from the depths of the Tommy Bahama, and he's been working on painstakingly removing the sleeves and collars off of each one. Some shirts he tries to mend the damage of... but he's a bit of a punk, so the frayed tank look definitely isn't one he shies away from. He's already in a bright orange one with that same look. He wasn't sure if he'd like how much of his burns people could see, but hey, some tattoos haven't been damaged, and those still look badass!
He's trying to stay focused on his work, and to be fair, it's an activity that can take quite a lot of attention when you're still learning how to do it. But he's also set up his project in the lounge, where just about anyone could walk by. He puts on his best smile if someone wanders past.
"Yo! How're you-ah fuck!" Aaaaaand this is why you focus while you're working with sharp needles, Goranski. "Maaaan, my fingers are gonna come out of this looking like Swiss cheese."
Pool (Night of the 8th)
Rich never really comes out to the pool. Not in the sun, what with his sensitive skin. Maybe if it's cloudy or rainy, but he never takes a full dive. And it's dark at night, so there isn't a whole lot of point to having an evening swim.
Rich isn't quite sure why he's out here now.
He's been out late though, the idea of sleep completely evading him right now. Frankly, with how his mental health has frayed, it's a wonder he's remembered that sleep is even a thing for this long. But sometimes, César forgets.
And so sometimes, Rich goes out to find him.
He doesn't usually hang out by the pool, though, so Rich still isn't sure why he's over here. It's too hard to see, and honestly, being out in the open air is messing with his head a little. He keeps hearing a whisper, a rustle of fabric. He keeps swearing something is behind him when it isn't. Eventually, he's too irritated to bother, and he storms off-
There was a chip in the tiling. It was small, but it'd grown bigger over the week of the ship's disrepair. It was big enough now for Rich's sandal to get caught in it, causing him to lose his balance.
He can't manage much more than a strangled cry before he falls in. Instantly, water fills his mouth, and he chokes and sputters. He flails to swim, only to crack his head against concrete, turning some of the water red. He can't see, he can't fucking see-
Someone takes his hand, and manages to pull him back up. He coughs and retches, spitting up water, as one hand grips the bleeding gash on his head and one grips... the edge of the pool.
He... really thought there was a hand there. He should go back to sleep.
Instead, he pulls himself out, sitting down on the edge of the pool, staring blankly down into the water. It's funny how the shadows can make the tiles on the bottom of the pool look like rows of jagged teeth.
Mikado/Everywhere else (October 9th on)
After that awful evening... it's no wonder Rich is paranoid.
He's been patched up adequately, a bundle of bandages around the cut on his head, but no matter his family's reassurances, he just doesn't feel safe. He just feels like something is going to be there again. Something that's going to try to point out everything that's wrong with him, that mocks him for all his failures, that taunts him as he falls deeper and deeper into the pool's gaping mouth.
Is it his mental health? Certainly not. Never mind that he's been sleeping later than usual. Never mind that he's definitely forgotten to eat today. He'll feel better when he's safer.
The hibachi tables have plenty of knives, now sitting abandoned around the cooking areas. He takes one, carefully tiptoeing back to the entrance of the restaurant, looking for something to cut.
Unsurprisingly, it cuts through the paper fan like... well, paper. It slides rather neatly through the laminated menus, so it's probably sharp enough. He should find a case for it, so he doesn't cut a hole in his pocket, but he ends up just holding it as he starts out making patrols around the ship again. Just to make sure nothing is there.
As long as it was all just some sick dream.
Sand Dollars (Later half of the month)
But hey, it's not all quiet mental breakdowns!
Rich also has some clarity to know running around looking for danger is probably going to accomplish nothing, so once in a while, he sets himself up at Sand Dollars. He's fixed a coffee machine before, so... the espresso machine is weird, but he manages to get it running.
He loads his coffee up with a maddening array of different syrups that hardly seem like they'd taste good together and a metric shitton of milk, before sitting himself down with a notebook and pens he swiped from the room.
Jason had said he liked his art, as much as that was just an expression of his frustration. It would be nice to try to learn to draw some more.
...It is a real shame he picked out this book along with the few other guides he pulled out of the library to practice from. Surely that one's a troll, right?
What: Rich... tries to deal. As usual, he's not very good at it.
When: All through the month of October!
Where: The lounge, the pool, Mikabo, and Sand Dollars
Warnings: Probably quite a bit of mental health talk. Near-death experiences involving drowning. Paranoia that may lead to violence, but of course I'll be communicating OOCly if it went that far. I'll warn if anything else comes up, but please use his opt-out if you don't vibe with certain aspects of his character!
Lounge (Beginning half of the month)
César's taught him to sew.
That is definitely the only important thing that Rich has learned as of late. Yes. Definitely.
He has a whole stack of t-shirts his jefe retrieved from the depths of the Tommy Bahama, and he's been working on painstakingly removing the sleeves and collars off of each one. Some shirts he tries to mend the damage of... but he's a bit of a punk, so the frayed tank look definitely isn't one he shies away from. He's already in a bright orange one with that same look. He wasn't sure if he'd like how much of his burns people could see, but hey, some tattoos haven't been damaged, and those still look badass!
He's trying to stay focused on his work, and to be fair, it's an activity that can take quite a lot of attention when you're still learning how to do it. But he's also set up his project in the lounge, where just about anyone could walk by. He puts on his best smile if someone wanders past.
"Yo! How're you-ah fuck!" Aaaaaand this is why you focus while you're working with sharp needles, Goranski. "Maaaan, my fingers are gonna come out of this looking like Swiss cheese."
Pool (Night of the 8th)
Rich never really comes out to the pool. Not in the sun, what with his sensitive skin. Maybe if it's cloudy or rainy, but he never takes a full dive. And it's dark at night, so there isn't a whole lot of point to having an evening swim.
Rich isn't quite sure why he's out here now.
He's been out late though, the idea of sleep completely evading him right now. Frankly, with how his mental health has frayed, it's a wonder he's remembered that sleep is even a thing for this long. But sometimes, César forgets.
And so sometimes, Rich goes out to find him.
He doesn't usually hang out by the pool, though, so Rich still isn't sure why he's over here. It's too hard to see, and honestly, being out in the open air is messing with his head a little. He keeps hearing a whisper, a rustle of fabric. He keeps swearing something is behind him when it isn't. Eventually, he's too irritated to bother, and he storms off-
There was a chip in the tiling. It was small, but it'd grown bigger over the week of the ship's disrepair. It was big enough now for Rich's sandal to get caught in it, causing him to lose his balance.
He can't manage much more than a strangled cry before he falls in. Instantly, water fills his mouth, and he chokes and sputters. He flails to swim, only to crack his head against concrete, turning some of the water red. He can't see, he can't fucking see-
Someone takes his hand, and manages to pull him back up. He coughs and retches, spitting up water, as one hand grips the bleeding gash on his head and one grips... the edge of the pool.
He... really thought there was a hand there. He should go back to sleep.
Instead, he pulls himself out, sitting down on the edge of the pool, staring blankly down into the water. It's funny how the shadows can make the tiles on the bottom of the pool look like rows of jagged teeth.
Mikado/Everywhere else (October 9th on)
After that awful evening... it's no wonder Rich is paranoid.
He's been patched up adequately, a bundle of bandages around the cut on his head, but no matter his family's reassurances, he just doesn't feel safe. He just feels like something is going to be there again. Something that's going to try to point out everything that's wrong with him, that mocks him for all his failures, that taunts him as he falls deeper and deeper into the pool's gaping mouth.
Is it his mental health? Certainly not. Never mind that he's been sleeping later than usual. Never mind that he's definitely forgotten to eat today. He'll feel better when he's safer.
The hibachi tables have plenty of knives, now sitting abandoned around the cooking areas. He takes one, carefully tiptoeing back to the entrance of the restaurant, looking for something to cut.
Unsurprisingly, it cuts through the paper fan like... well, paper. It slides rather neatly through the laminated menus, so it's probably sharp enough. He should find a case for it, so he doesn't cut a hole in his pocket, but he ends up just holding it as he starts out making patrols around the ship again. Just to make sure nothing is there.
As long as it was all just some sick dream.
Sand Dollars (Later half of the month)
But hey, it's not all quiet mental breakdowns!
Rich also has some clarity to know running around looking for danger is probably going to accomplish nothing, so once in a while, he sets himself up at Sand Dollars. He's fixed a coffee machine before, so... the espresso machine is weird, but he manages to get it running.
He loads his coffee up with a maddening array of different syrups that hardly seem like they'd taste good together and a metric shitton of milk, before sitting himself down with a notebook and pens he swiped from the room.
Jason had said he liked his art, as much as that was just an expression of his frustration. It would be nice to try to learn to draw some more.
...It is a real shame he picked out this book along with the few other guides he pulled out of the library to practice from. Surely that one's a troll, right?
no subject
[Which like, weird? But whatever, not everyone can be from the main character planet!]
Naahhh, I'll freeball it. Hehehe. [HEHEHEHE that's a good joke, he should hit up the hot tub later and turn it into reality........
But yeah okay he's gonna go get himself a couple knives. A little one for details that he will forget to do, and a big fuckin' honkin' one to begin sawing the top off with.]
Good thing about the food not rottin', means none of these are gonna go bad until you want 'em to. [Absolutely assuming you can just think real hard at a pumpkin and get it to rot...] Should line the fuckin'... dining hall with them, or somethin'. 'Course, gonna need a lot more people...
no subject
[Even like, stereotypical green ones!
Rich goes to the table as well to join Sharky, using his own trusty knife to cut carefully around the stem. He wants this to look neat... hopefully he can keep it safe until the party.]
I didn't know they couldn't go bad... what about stuff that needs to be refrigerated? [What's the point of his roommate having a fridge then? Geez.]
I don't mind if it's just one or two of us working at it. If we did a couple a day... that'd be nice.
no subject
I dunno. Guess it just... melts to room temperature? Like I'm gonna wait around to test it out. [Ew. If his food isn't "fresh" and hot, it isn't worth eating.]
Sometimes, yanno, I wonder if it's even real. But I guess it's like the Matrix -- doesn't matter if the steak tastes good, right?
no subject
...It'd probably make more sense if it wasn't real. There are so many different non-human people that they brought here. And some who were dead... or didn't have bodies before they got here. I know the Captain is supernatural... but being able to copy everyone's different species' DNA and having a difference between the ghosts in the kitchen and the ghosts that are just passengers...
no subject
How d'ya know there's a difference between the ghosts? Seems like it's all the same from this side of things.
no subject
[Though perhaps there isn't much difference between those two groups as everyone had initially thought.]
no subject
[Ugh, he's just started pulling guts and he's already bored of it. Whatever, it's all comin' out through the mouth anyway!]
In a ghost-vee-ghost showdown, who wins?
no subject
[Most of them, Rich thinks. He narrows his eyes at the guts in his own pumpkin, thinking hard about the answer.]
I don't think anybody should really be left behind. If there's a ghost here, they don't deserve to be trapped here without a body.
no subject
[Man, he has no fucking idea, he doesn't deal with ghosts normally!]
Hard agree on that, too, bud. But, uh... Yanno... There's kinda a body-ghost ratio here. Unless you know where the Captain keeps his spares??? [Hahahaha yeah right!]
no subject
[That's probably why the SQUIP was completely busted when Rich arrived here. From what he understands of it... that thing is soulless.]
The Captain doesn't really tell me anything. Guess it's the same for you. I'd like to know if there was some creepy cold storage for bodies... but they're not going to tell us.
no subject
I bet there is, though. Somewhere in the bowels of the ship, yanno, where nobody else is allowed to go. Haha, I bet that's exactly what's inside the bridge. Just a pile of old bodies... maybe in the shape of a throne? Heh, yeah. Somethin' real brutal and, uhhhh, terrible.
[...Wait, this probably isn't, like, the right tone to take with Rich right now.]
Orrrrr, they're just sittin' there on ice somewhere.
no subject
Climbing up those corpses to get to a throne... kind of reminds him of something, in a morbid way. He shakes his head, and grabs a marker to start tracing a face on his pumpkin.]
I hope they're just on ice. A throne of bodies would just... decompose, right? Before anyone could use 'em.
no subject
Probably, yeah. [Decaying bodies are also very brutal, but he isn't about to bring that up as a good thing!] Unless it's like the food? But, uhhh, I dunno if I wanna put bodies and ice cream on the same level.
[GROSS. Eating people fucking sucks.]
no subject
[Sure, certain animals could eat humans, but... ew.]
Plus, I mean, our bodies can have damage done to them... so it'd be weird if we didn't decompose when we died.
no subject
Only if we're really unlucky. [He really doesn't wanna eat people, okay?] The whole ship is weird, anyhow. Maybe the guy in charge keeps the cells from rupturing? Or... I mean, maybe he's gotta furnace somewhere to chuck them into. The ship runs on souls, right? Maybe it relies on the bodies, too.
no subject
I hope not. You'd think that many times burning and dying would catch up to a person... I mean, I guess I don't really know how it doesn't catch up to us the first time.
no subject
[Is this... a business? Whatever, the point stands!]
no subject
[He's the reason they're all in this mess in the first place. Getting rid of him will save all of them, won't it?]
no subject
[As if there's anything that would hurt the Captain.]
no subject
[At this point, Rich is just talking to himself while carving his pumpkin. Sorry, Sharkey. It's not you!] Some sort of tether... maybe a trauma from earlier in his life? Something he needs release from, like a ghost?