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
Man, suddenly he wants ice cream.
Anyway! Jeff sort of knows Klaus. Not by name or anything, but by sight, in passing. They hit some of the same haunts, and he seems like a cool guy, so a friendly conversation is long overdue.
Only now he can't stop staring at the trail of ice cream going down the guy's arm-- oh there it goes. No need to stare anymore! Jeff snaps out of it.
"Yeah, major god complex, right? He really just needs to park at a cosmic gas station and ask for directions." Jeff pokes at his (suddenly very depressing salad) with a fork. "I wonder what's going on with him now. I mean, with all the--" He waves his fork at the ceiling, and the general... ship as a concept. "--ghost strike or whatever. What if they pulled a mutiny?"
no subject
"You can have some of my waffle if you want," he offers. It's fine because there's still more waffles that he can get if he needs more later. Who doesn't love waffles with ice cream anyway? It's the best! And he has coffee, which is nice. He prefers the hot chocolate that Ava makes, but ehhhh. Coffee is probably a good replacement for right now.
"I dunno what's going on, though. Maybe someone is upset he's basically kidnapped us all and doomed us to some more fuckery. Or maybe he's just taking a vacation? Or maybe everyone's on vacation? I dunno. It seems like a lot of weird possibilities."
no subject
It explains the god complex, the absenteeism, the neglect, and the refusal to pull over and end this road trip from hell!
"Oh, hey, thanks, man!" Is he going to take him up on that waffle offer? Absolutely and without hesitation. Jeff reaches out to spear a waffle on his fork. "Whatever's going on, it's probably going to end in violence or something. That's how it usually goes here, right?" He frowns thoughtfully. "Man, I wish I was smart enough to, like, solve mysteries or do some hero shit."
no subject
“Shit.” He laughs. “That would be fucking something, right?”
Klaus smiles as he takes some waffle, kind of sorry they haven’t spoken before. He’s pretty cool. “Doesn’t it always? If I can avoid another apocalypse or world-ending event, I’d prefer that. I don’t think my void exists here and I’d rather just live forever in weirdness than be stuck…wherever.” He shrugs, humming thoughtfully. “I dunno. I’m not the brains of my family either and all my superpowers are moot right now, so I feel that.”
There’s a beat before, “Oh. I’m Klaus, by the way. Sorry.”
no subject
As long as he's far, far away by the time it happens.
"Yeah..." His expression darkens for a moment, considering what lies, well, wherever. "Me too."
Anyway.
"I'm Jeff." A beat. "Not to pry or anything, but what do you mean your powers are moot? What... powers?"
no subject
"Well, I used to see ghosts. All the time. The way they died." He frowns. "Dad locked me in a mausoleum to make me less scared of them. Also to see how fast I'd come back from being dead, but I didn't know that at the time. Parents..." They clear their throat. "And he wonders why we all grew up little fucking shits, right?" ANYWAY! "Uh...and like I said, my other power was being able to come back to life after dying. Which is neat. Not useful here because...second verse, same as the first, you know?"
That doesn't really matter. Or maybe it does. Klaus doesn't know. "So my dad did a lot of fucked up shit to get us to the point where 'oh no, the world is ending children, we have to restart it'. There was a whole plan with samurai and dangerous things trying to kill us that we had to kill and then a machine that drained us of our life force slowly. And then after Allison killed him to save us..." They guess? Was it that? He still hasn't fully figured out his feelings just then. "She hit the button. Universe reset. Us...no powers, Luther alive, Allison and Sloane...missing. And that's...the gist of it. All my tattoos gone..."
That was still a lot.
no subject
Somebody else. Somebody he actually kind of liked? There's even a flicker of recognition in his face, before he manages to tamp it back down.
"Geez. And I thought my dad was an asshole." Then. "Do you miss it? Having... power."
no subject
"He's the worst." They shrug, frowning a little bit more. "I dunno? I mean I miss having all of my tattoos. I miss the fact that I don't have proof of things that actually mattered to me? Like all the tattoos from Vietnam." There's a pause and they make a face. "Well, not the war part. I don't really want to remember that, you know? But...someone there." His fingers idly trace a triangle on his stomach for a moment before he breaks himself out of it.
"Ah. But...I guess sometimes I miss not having them? Sometimes no? I kind of hate ghosts, you know? Not like...cause they suck or whatever, but like...just creepy as shit, you know?"