Deputy Pratt (
theweakhavepurpose) wrote in
come_sailaway2022-10-13 09:32 pm
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Entry tags:
Are you on the square? Are you on the level?
Who: Deputy Pratt & You
What: A reckoning is upon you (He's storming the halls looking for Sharky)
Where: Everywhere!
When: Mid-October
Warnings: Violence. Cult stuff. Cannibalism. Skinning. Gore. The standard Pratt warning buffet.
Notes: Bracket or prose, live your truth.
1. The World Is Weak - Laundry Room
It's already been well established that the best place to have a breakdown on the ship is in the Laundry Room, so that's where Pratt is. Though he's not crying, he's not yelling or throwing things or freaking out over a jacket like last time. No, he's pacing. Back and forth and back and forth, again and again while staring at the ground. He has his arms folded, clutching across his chest, which is an awkward position while walking but he doesn't move them.
He doesn't know what to do. Well, he knows what he wants to do, but he also knows that he is the master of terrible decisions so maybe he should think about it?
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Enjoying yourself?
"Shut the fuck up."
2. Eviction Notice - Decks
When Deputy Pratt leaves his room in the morning, he's wearing his full uniform, his belt jangling with every step, along with the dog tags around his neck. Idly he trails his fingers along the wall as he goes, dragging through some of those bloody notes left on doors without even seeming to react to it.
"Sharky! Shaaaaarkkkkyyyy..."
For all that people have seen him sobbing into mashed potatoes, enjoying himself in the arcade, or just generally being a morose but kind of endearing dork, there's another side to him that even Clarke hasn't seen. The last time he was walking like this he was losing himself to the conditioning and barely knew what he was doing. This is different. Pratt is in absolute control of himself and that is so much worse.
"It's been a day and we had a deal. A pact even." Pratt normally sounds like a raven with laryngitis, but right now his voice is so low and controlled when he talks that it could probably be used to grind glass. If it's not obvious Pratt is pissed. He's fucking furious. And that cold fury is being bottled up, saving it for later, for when he needs to act.
"It's okay, you can come out. We just need to talk. We're going to have a little chat. That's all."
He gets to the end of the hall of cabins, blood trailing from his fingers across all the doors from the loving notes left to Ebalon. He reaches up to his forehead, using the blood to draw a cross down his nose and across his forehead.
"Did you think you were finally free?"
This is probably fine.
What: A reckoning is upon you (He's storming the halls looking for Sharky)
Where: Everywhere!
When: Mid-October
Warnings: Violence. Cult stuff. Cannibalism. Skinning. Gore. The standard Pratt warning buffet.
Notes: Bracket or prose, live your truth.
1. The World Is Weak - Laundry Room
It's already been well established that the best place to have a breakdown on the ship is in the Laundry Room, so that's where Pratt is. Though he's not crying, he's not yelling or throwing things or freaking out over a jacket like last time. No, he's pacing. Back and forth and back and forth, again and again while staring at the ground. He has his arms folded, clutching across his chest, which is an awkward position while walking but he doesn't move them.
He doesn't know what to do. Well, he knows what he wants to do, but he also knows that he is the master of terrible decisions so maybe he should think about it?
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Enjoying yourself?
"Shut the fuck up."
2. Eviction Notice - Decks
When Deputy Pratt leaves his room in the morning, he's wearing his full uniform, his belt jangling with every step, along with the dog tags around his neck. Idly he trails his fingers along the wall as he goes, dragging through some of those bloody notes left on doors without even seeming to react to it.
"Sharky! Shaaaaarkkkkyyyy..."
For all that people have seen him sobbing into mashed potatoes, enjoying himself in the arcade, or just generally being a morose but kind of endearing dork, there's another side to him that even Clarke hasn't seen. The last time he was walking like this he was losing himself to the conditioning and barely knew what he was doing. This is different. Pratt is in absolute control of himself and that is so much worse.
"It's been a day and we had a deal. A pact even." Pratt normally sounds like a raven with laryngitis, but right now his voice is so low and controlled when he talks that it could probably be used to grind glass. If it's not obvious Pratt is pissed. He's fucking furious. And that cold fury is being bottled up, saving it for later, for when he needs to act.
"It's okay, you can come out. We just need to talk. We're going to have a little chat. That's all."
He gets to the end of the hall of cabins, blood trailing from his fingers across all the doors from the loving notes left to Ebalon. He reaches up to his forehead, using the blood to draw a cross down his nose and across his forehead.
"Did you think you were finally free?"
This is probably fine.
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"I made my own mop." He's stupidly proud of it. Originally he was hesitant, because making one out of rags and a shuffleboard stick looks even more ridiculous, but then thinking about it... it's no less ridiculous than doing it by hand. "Ah, but I only have to do big things, and then Tendi can just phaser it all! It's so amazing! It even has a cleaning setting. And a repair setting. She does it on the spaceship normally. But she's probably a bit busy with everyone blowing themselves up, so we'll make sure we're good and useful to her. Want to borrow my mop?"
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The future is extremely cool if they have things like that.
"Why do people keep blowing themselves up?!" He still wants to find Sharky but that's... that's something he's been wondering all month.
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As for people blowing themselves up... Nobunaga just rolls his eyes. "Hell if I know. A protest to the Captain and the rest of us that they don't want to be here? Because blood and entrails all over the ship when the ghosts finally get fed up is totally useful to anyone."
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He's on the verge of snapping and he can feel it.
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And judging from the locations, probably a few people.
"My buddy from back home is being real weird, but we're gonna work it out. Eventually." With their fists.
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A sharp headtilt, "Sharky?" Nobunaga hadn't noticed, but obviously he didn't know him 1/100th as well as Pratt. "Do you want help?" Want was probably the wrong word there.
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"You think they're doing it to send a message to the Captain? Kinda feel like he doesn't give a shit. Why would he? Killing each other probably gives him what he wants. And if he cared he'd just show up and vaporize them."
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Nobunaga spreads his hands with a shrug. "I know that, you know that, I don't think they care that it's helping him. I think they're trying to find a way out and just blowing up." He glances up at the ceiling. Except... "Or... they were being assassinated in which case..." he spreads his hands with a shrug. "I probably should have paid more attention rather than assuming it was just people reacting idiotically to the information sharing." Crichton obviously didn't blow himself up, after all.
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"The one on the sports deck was in the closet so I feel like that was definitely targeted. Someone trapped in there maybe."
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"All right," a bit sterner now, "Let's try to catalog it mentally, see if we can compare evidence. We can flag it for Tendi to do repairs, and look for structural damage. Where do you want to start?"
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"I guess the food doesn't go bad. Maybe blood doesn't either? I dunno, Claudia used to carry it around in a cup but I don't think she ever left it for hours."
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He only knows of two vampires and they're both missing now, he has no idea about the others that are still around.
"Aight, atrium, let's swing by sundries, we can get a notebook and record all this shit."
NSFW cw: blood stuff
"Yosh."
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Hn. He'd like to think someone just got creative with the buffet blood, but... he knows better than that.
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"I don't know what to do with her stuff either. I feel weird taking it down and getting rid of it cuz it's .. not mine."
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"Heshikiri Hasebe is very heavy, but nothing compared to Ruby Rose's Crescent or Jinx's rocket launcher. Nor is he cursed. So he can probably be handled safely by anyone competent. I'd want them back once I returned, or course. Oh, but Clarke has dibs on my Tanegashima Akechi 1579 rifle. She tried to run off with it at Fight Club."
And that was how she recruited herself to the Demon King army.
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"We should all write this shit down and leave it in our rooms." All his shit can go to Sharky and Ava and Clarke. Well.... if Sharky is ever Sharky again.
"There were rifles in 1579?"
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The question actually takes him by surprise.
"What? Yeah, of course." Maybe it wasn't an of course. Nobunaga's startled by the formal universal education in the future that still somehow lacks in history. Imagine not knowing that Amerigo Vespucci circled the continents even though the country was named after him. That's definitely one thing Nobunaga would fix. "Portuguese landed accidentally on our shores bringing their guns with them. The daimyo of the province instantly saw their potential, and while none of them spoke the language or understood the customs of the court, the daimyo did his best to negotiate for the arms. Then took off with vastly improving the crude devices." Ahahaha, yeah, his nationalist pride is really shining through here.
He takes off the rifle to offer it to Pratt should he wish to view it, however. "That was in Tanegashima. He began shifting his forges to production instantly!" Actually 'rifle' is a bit of a translation snafu. The process of spiraling the bullets inside (rifling) was not done for centuries to come, as it required shell casings instead of raw gunpowder.
"Akechi is my left hand. He designed this personally for the whole army, and it just rolled off the forges six months ago my time. He also designed and oversaw production of my castle. He's a genius." So. So proud. "And a perfect shot. 100 shots. 100 perfect hits. My best is only ever 95%. I get too impatient."
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"Oh shit, that's awesome looking. Is it like... a musket? Like you have to tamp in gunpowder with a stick and only get one shot so you gotta make it count? Probably makes people way better shots, I get nine bullets with this," Gesturing to the bright red pistol in the holster at his belt. "So I can miss a few times, but it also fires on full auto so I don't need to worry about being real accurate."
Wait, he realizes how that sounds, "Not that I'm sloppy, just.. it's different styles yeah."
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