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
no subject
Alright, then. You just have to cut off a circle in the top. If you cut around the stem, you should be able to pull it out.
no subject
So what are you making? A scary face?
no subject
Ha, I've heard people wear pumpkin masks to Halloween parties. Maybe you could wear a whole pumpkin?
[He hums to himself as he starts working on scooping guts out of his gourd.]
Some sort of face, I think. Maybe one with lots of jagged teeth? And evil eyebrows.
no subject
[she continues to peer into her own pumpkin for a moment, and then rolls up her sleeves and decides to just go for it! digging right into the guts, scooping with her fingers and pulling out handfuls of stringy innards and seeds]
This is so gross. [and she sounds happy about it]
no subject
[Wait, no, it was Jason Vorhees. Whatever. He stares at his pumpkin for a second, lost in thought, before the comment gets him to look over and quickly muffle his laughter.]
Wow, you really just went for it. Ripping that poor pumpkin's guts out...
no subject
[she plops piles of stringy pumpkin goop onto the table, she'll worry about cleanup after]
Caught orange-handed.
[finishing up getting it emptied out, she contemplates for a moment what she wants to carve into it, then reaches for a marker. wait ew her hands are kinda slimy still, she wipes them off on her clothes first]
no subject
[Rich... should have gotten some bowls for pumpkin guts. Ah well. He does the same, scraping out the inside as thoroughly as possible before grabbing a pencil to carefully trace out his face.
no subject
[Ava holds the marker with a twitchy hand, then focuses to steady it enough to start drawing some eyes]
I'm going to make an owl. I think I know someone who might like it.
no subject
[Rich is curious, but the mention of Ava's prospective carving excites him.]
Owls are really cool. Some of them are pretty spooky too, hearing them late at night. But they also kill mice, so that makes them cool.
no subject
[stares at the pumpkin... then adds a few more features]
They are cool. You don't like mice?
no subject
[Rich, your secret nerdery is showing. At the question, Rich bristles a bit, and shakes his head.]
I don't know. They're kind of creepy. I don't really like seeing them skittering around.