Jeff Calhoun (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cacophonish) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-10-07 03:43 pm
cacophonish) wrote in come_sailaway2022-10-07 03:43 pm
[OPEN] i'm walking into spiderwebs
Who: Jeff & Open
What: October catch-all!
When: Any time in October (lmk if you want things set on a specific day for like idk timeline purposes)
Where: Calgona, Sports Deck, Chatterbox, Windjammer, and various places!
Warnings: A splash of existential dread and potential references to past drug use and intoxication.
Notes: Just some slice of life here as Jeff tries to adopt a new, healthy routine amidst ALL THE DESTRUCTION
I. let's get physical
Okay, so: they're trapped. They can't go home. They're... snapshots or bad copies or fragments of their true, original, whole selves... right? That's what Jeff thinks he gathered from all the info smarter, cleverer people dumped on everyone's laps.
Unless-- until they can find someplace else to go, this is all they've got. There's no going back. Jeff's been plucked from his shitty, fucked up life, and whatever happens in that shitty, fucked up life isn't his problem anymore. Which means this is... kind of a second chance. The circumstances might suck, but it's still a precious thing, right?
He'll be damned if he's going to piss it all away.
As the month unfolds, those who've seen Jeff on (or in the aftermath of) one of his benders may notice he's been staying away from the dwindling liquor supply. In its place, the bard's taken up some new hobbies, namely: exercise! It's finally time to put some muscle on that skinny frame.
Or, well. Make an attempt.
So lately, Jeff's been spending a lot of time at Calgona, attempting to lift the (remaining) weights, or work at some of the machines. He moves like he knows what he's supposed to be doing, like, in theory, but his body's too noodly to do what he wants.
In fact, there his arms go, giving out on him as he tries to bench a very modest amount of weight.
"Shit-- shit! Spotter, please!"
Ugh. Help.
Alternately, you can find him at the sports deck, running the track and looking totally miserable about it, even though no one's making him do this but himself. This is the worst part about trying new things: sucking at them. Why can't he just, like, start out as an expert!
If he spots some company, he'll flash a grimace of a smile. He's trying, really. "This is--" GASP GASP. "--soooo boring." Ugh. Hang on. He's gotta stop running and take a breather. "I feel like a hamster in a wheel! How does anyone do this without going nuts from boredom?"
At least when he's at the pool, Jeff seems to be in his element. Swimming! That's easy. Like, he grew up in a beach city, so he's practically part fish. Here's hoping no one trashes the pool while Friday or the janitor ghosts or whatever are on strike.
II. juke box hero
Well, it's Jeff. He's a bard. Any day, at any given time, there's a good chance he's doing something musical. Lately, like just about every night, you can find him at Chatterbox for karaoke hour. He's really trying to expand his horizons here, picking unfamiliar songs from the future and just going with it.
Is it time for Jeff to discover Britney Spears? You know it.
Come up and sing with him! It's bound to be a magical experience.
No. Really. It's magical. He's going to be doing some magic. Nothing big, just little tricks while he sings. Some light, playful telekinesis, a bit of conjuring of fairy lights, little things like that. Those who can sense magic may notice a constant buzz of it when he sings, subtler spells being cast-- or attempted, anyway, as Jeff toys with some magic he hasn't had as much opportunity to feel out on the ship. (Clairvoyance and related magic, mostly.)
Feel free to ask him about it!
Other times, you can catch Jeff alternating between singing and jotting down notes (and lyrics) in just about any public space on the ship. If you're not busy, he may come up to you, practically bouncing with Golden Retriever energy.
"Hey! What's up? How's it going-- you busy? I'm trying to work on a new spell, but, uh..." Well, this is awkward. "I kinda need a guinea pig." He wrinkles his nose. "Sorry. That sounded bad, didn't it. I just mean-- if you don't mind-- I could use someone to test this spell on. Respectfully and responsibly."
III. feed my frankenstein
Since the buffet is the only place left with an endless supply of food, Jeff's obviously going to be stopping by there for his meals (along with everybody else???). All this new physical activity's really done a number on his appetite, okay, and he feels like a bottomless pit.
So this is the 'Jeff is going to invite himself to your table' prompt. Hope you weren't hoping to eat in silence, because here he comes with a plate piled high with grilled chicken salad and bread rolls.
Prepare for small talk and idle chitchat! Especially if you're a loner type. Jeff loves being friendly at loners.
Anyway, here's some examples of conversation starters.
"You ever wonder if the Captain's just really, really lost but too stubborn to ask for directions?"
Or:
"Do you think the ghosts are on strike? Or maybe the Captain decided to stop being a dick and sent them on vacation..."
Or:
"So... Who do you think's going to be the first one to, like, go all psycho cannibal if we completely run out of food here?"
Or:
"Man, I was gonna go for a swim today, but some asshole threw a bunch of deck chairs in the water." He folds his arms on the table and drops his head with a whine. "Why would someone do that?"
And wildcard, and so on. Choose your own conversational adventure.
IV. wildcard
[ hit me with whatever you want, i'm open to everything. you can reach me at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
weeyotch / weeyotch#8200 to hash out any specifics! ]
What: October catch-all!
When: Any time in October (lmk if you want things set on a specific day for like idk timeline purposes)
Where: Calgona, Sports Deck, Chatterbox, Windjammer, and various places!
Warnings: A splash of existential dread and potential references to past drug use and intoxication.
Notes: Just some slice of life here as Jeff tries to adopt a new, healthy routine amidst ALL THE DESTRUCTION
I. let's get physical
Okay, so: they're trapped. They can't go home. They're... snapshots or bad copies or fragments of their true, original, whole selves... right? That's what Jeff thinks he gathered from all the info smarter, cleverer people dumped on everyone's laps.
Unless-- until they can find someplace else to go, this is all they've got. There's no going back. Jeff's been plucked from his shitty, fucked up life, and whatever happens in that shitty, fucked up life isn't his problem anymore. Which means this is... kind of a second chance. The circumstances might suck, but it's still a precious thing, right?
He'll be damned if he's going to piss it all away.
As the month unfolds, those who've seen Jeff on (or in the aftermath of) one of his benders may notice he's been staying away from the dwindling liquor supply. In its place, the bard's taken up some new hobbies, namely: exercise! It's finally time to put some muscle on that skinny frame.
Or, well. Make an attempt.
So lately, Jeff's been spending a lot of time at Calgona, attempting to lift the (remaining) weights, or work at some of the machines. He moves like he knows what he's supposed to be doing, like, in theory, but his body's too noodly to do what he wants.
In fact, there his arms go, giving out on him as he tries to bench a very modest amount of weight.
"Shit-- shit! Spotter, please!"
Ugh. Help.
Alternately, you can find him at the sports deck, running the track and looking totally miserable about it, even though no one's making him do this but himself. This is the worst part about trying new things: sucking at them. Why can't he just, like, start out as an expert!
If he spots some company, he'll flash a grimace of a smile. He's trying, really. "This is--" GASP GASP. "--soooo boring." Ugh. Hang on. He's gotta stop running and take a breather. "I feel like a hamster in a wheel! How does anyone do this without going nuts from boredom?"
At least when he's at the pool, Jeff seems to be in his element. Swimming! That's easy. Like, he grew up in a beach city, so he's practically part fish. Here's hoping no one trashes the pool while Friday or the janitor ghosts or whatever are on strike.
II. juke box hero
Well, it's Jeff. He's a bard. Any day, at any given time, there's a good chance he's doing something musical. Lately, like just about every night, you can find him at Chatterbox for karaoke hour. He's really trying to expand his horizons here, picking unfamiliar songs from the future and just going with it.
Is it time for Jeff to discover Britney Spears? You know it.
Come up and sing with him! It's bound to be a magical experience.
No. Really. It's magical. He's going to be doing some magic. Nothing big, just little tricks while he sings. Some light, playful telekinesis, a bit of conjuring of fairy lights, little things like that. Those who can sense magic may notice a constant buzz of it when he sings, subtler spells being cast-- or attempted, anyway, as Jeff toys with some magic he hasn't had as much opportunity to feel out on the ship. (Clairvoyance and related magic, mostly.)
Feel free to ask him about it!
Other times, you can catch Jeff alternating between singing and jotting down notes (and lyrics) in just about any public space on the ship. If you're not busy, he may come up to you, practically bouncing with Golden Retriever energy.
"Hey! What's up? How's it going-- you busy? I'm trying to work on a new spell, but, uh..." Well, this is awkward. "I kinda need a guinea pig." He wrinkles his nose. "Sorry. That sounded bad, didn't it. I just mean-- if you don't mind-- I could use someone to test this spell on. Respectfully and responsibly."
III. feed my frankenstein
Since the buffet is the only place left with an endless supply of food, Jeff's obviously going to be stopping by there for his meals (along with everybody else???). All this new physical activity's really done a number on his appetite, okay, and he feels like a bottomless pit.
So this is the 'Jeff is going to invite himself to your table' prompt. Hope you weren't hoping to eat in silence, because here he comes with a plate piled high with grilled chicken salad and bread rolls.
Prepare for small talk and idle chitchat! Especially if you're a loner type. Jeff loves being friendly at loners.
Anyway, here's some examples of conversation starters.
"You ever wonder if the Captain's just really, really lost but too stubborn to ask for directions?"
Or:
"Do you think the ghosts are on strike? Or maybe the Captain decided to stop being a dick and sent them on vacation..."
Or:
"So... Who do you think's going to be the first one to, like, go all psycho cannibal if we completely run out of food here?"
Or:
"Man, I was gonna go for a swim today, but some asshole threw a bunch of deck chairs in the water." He folds his arms on the table and drops his head with a whine. "Why would someone do that?"
And wildcard, and so on. Choose your own conversational adventure.
IV. wildcard
[ hit me with whatever you want, i'm open to everything. you can reach me at
no subject
That's how you look right now, Steve!
Jeff sits up, his arms feeling like they're both rubbery and on fire at the same time.
"Yeah, well, if I kill myself, I'll just come back," he points out lightly, before making an... attempt at flexing. "Maybe I'll actually come back with some muscle, who knows."
Fat chance.
no subject
The ship is kinda failing, after all. Not like they can depend on all the usual functions to just like... you know, keep functioning. Who's to say it doesn't start with no more restaurants and end with no more resurrections?
"Start with the smaller weights," he says, gesturing towards the rack of smaller dumbbells against the far wall. "Work your way up. And remember it takes time."
no subject
Even if things suck right now, Steve just kind of... Well, he's got the look of some good-hearted, heroic type. The kind of guy who'll at least try to save the day, even if the odds are shit.
Anyway, he looks over at the rack with those smaller weights, and there's a moment where Jeff pulls a thoughtful face, before he looks at Steve again and flashes a teasing grin.
"Why don't you show me how it's done?"
no subject
It's UNFORTUNATE, to say the least. But what can ya do. He lets his shirt drop.
"Just start with the five-pounders. You'll figure it out."
no subject
"Looks like that hurt."
He rolls his eyes and huffs, more amused than offended. Time to flex some, uh, nonexistent biceps. "What, you think these guns can't take more than five pounds?"
no subject
He's seen it happen. Too many guys get into shit like lifting and don't know how to space their feet or they start out with too much weight and wreck their muscles completely.
Yet, after a moment of consideration, he does relent and adds, "You might be able to handle the tens."
no subject
This fucking body... Even he doesn't trust it with the tens yet.
"So, those are some gnarly scratches, duuuude." Like his Jeff impression? "How'd it happen?"