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?
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"It does seem like the ship is more dangerous lately..."
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He has gotten a couple bangs on the head from friends when he wasn't paying attention, so he assumes it'd be worse with a weapon.
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Six turned to start walking down the hall, his steps as silent as ever. Unless Rich stopped him, he'd continue on before disappearing down another hallway.
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There was literally no reason to call after him. Rich is... so smart.
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