Are you on the square? Are you on the level?

[theweakhavepurpose]

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.

Comments

[theweakhavepurpose]

Pratt is... not listening to Ava at all. The only thing he's thinking about is what if this is permanent. What if Sharky is just gone. Forever. What would he even do at that point? What's even.... it should have been him. No one would have missed him or noticed and maybe then he'd at least have a worthwhile purpose other than just mindless killing.

His little depression spiral is interrupted by Ava grinding her foot right through his torso and he yelps louder than he intended. It takes a few seconds of blinking before he comes back to actually being present in the moment and listening to what she's saying.

"I... didn't lie?" He sounds more confused than anything, but he struggles to his feet, not looking at Sharky, never once glancing at his friend as he staggers off to go find something to deal with that neck wound. He's not even sure what he would lie about, the fact he was going to kill Pickles? She literally saw him doing just that ten seconds ago.

He limps towards a rack of costumes, hoping to find some sort of mummy outfit that he can use the gauze off of. It'll be a second because as soon as he's out of sight of the two of them he bursts into tears and has to curl over the shelving and wrap his arms around his head to tamp it all down. Silently.

When he comes back he wordlessly kneels down next to Pickles. Sharky. All that Search and Rescue training paying off as he quietly tends to that wound in his neck. He's already a fucking disaster, so what if his eyes are all red now. He doesn't care. Don't look at him.

[decohere]

They're both claiming they hadn't lied, and Ava's paranoia itches at her like a rash.

There's more going on. There's. There's something very fucking wrong and she's grasping at every bit of information she knows.

She kneels next to Pickles, having removed her already-ruined sweater to hold against the wound until Pratt returns. She politely doesn't comment on the evidence of Pratt's tear-swollen eyes when he does. Or reprimand him for taking a bit longer than it should have.

"You and Izzy. Went looking for Jenny... Guabancex's brothers. Their trapped souls. And you found a cat. A ghost cat in Tauva, that attacked him," Ava retraces the conversation they'd had over text. "Is there more to it than that? Did you accidentally awaken something? Open some ghost portal?" It's not as accusatory as her first statement, she hadn't actually meant to blame Pratt for this. "It's just. The timing. You know? He starts asking me to go searching too... Ugh," she smacks Pickles lightly on the arm. "If you were Sharky you could at least appreciate when I asked you who Rischie was. Turned out to be a dude after all."

[broshaw]

Pickles doesn't say shit the entire time Pratt's gone, eyes fixed on the bloody flooring in front of him. Man, he'd almost had Pratt out for the count, and he doesn't even feel good about it! If this were his crew, he'd be getting a pat on the fuckin' back for almost offing some psycho hillbilly; instead, he's stuck feeling fucking guilty for defending himself.

This shit sucks.

Even when Pratt returns, Pickles is mostly silent, up to the point where Ava nudges him to mention Ren -- mmm, Rischie. Fucking of course. How the fuck did he not notice that?

"No shit it's a person." He side-eyes her for a second, then drops his glare back to the floor. "Dumb bitch got what she deserved."

[theweakhavepurpose]

The Spirit Halloween doesn't have a convenient staple gun or even thread and needle to do stitches, so this is going to get patched up with mummy gauze and cheerful bat and candy corn washi tape. The good news is that Pratt actually knows what he's doing so Pickles won't bleed out. He could make that happen though, he could shove his fingers into the wound and rip his whole jugular out - but he doesn't. All the fight has gone out of him and the adrenaline crash is hitting hard.

"The cat yeah. We were looking for Guatauva, and we ripped the whole fucking bar apart thinking he might be trapped in an object. You know like a shiny jewel or a coin or something. And then I suggested maybe we just ask the bartender? So Izzy did and this cat showed up. It was just sitting there on the bartop all glowing, more like uh.. the silhouette of a cat but light rather than shadow." He finishes taping Pickles up, sitting back on his heels and looking at the ground, brow furrowing as he tries to remember this in the sequence it happened. "Izzy tried to pet it, and that didn't work, his hand went right through it. But then when he said the name Guatauva it attacked him, started clawing the ever loving shit out of his arms but instead of bleeding it's claws were like..."

Pratt pauses, a coughing fit overtaking him, thanks for fucking up his voice even more, asshole. "Every swipe was sucking out Izzy's.. life force I guess. His whole arm went white and dead when I pulled them apart. And then the cat disappeared. We think it needs a sacrifice, needs someone's life so it can manifest. But uh.. I don't think that's why the place is falling apart. Or why Sh--Pickles showed up. Unless the cat let them all out, or I guess Guatauva, if that's him."

But he doesn't really know that, maybe he and Izzy cursed the whole place in their fervor over finding some sort of leverage over the Captain.

"You talking about Jenny?"

[decohere]

Ava rests a gentle hand upon Pratt's shoulder as he patches up Pickles, as he shares more details of the search and the encounter. She knows he probably doesn't want to be here, doing this. But she hopes it helps some, giving him something to focus on during the rough comedown of violence and rage. She doesn't want him running off like this. Doesn't want him alone when he crashes.

"He didn't tell me any of that," Ava frowns, slightly annoyed to be sent on a task with important information withheld. "You'd think those would be relevant details. He wanted Darcy to go with me. Suggested a whole team. What if she'd gotten attacked-" He'd asked her to go into a situation blind, knowing the risks himself. She knew he didn't care much about her. But Darcy?

She rubs at Pratt's back as he coughs.

"Jenny? I heard how she won her illusion of freedom, fucking everyone else over. What do you mean deserved? Getting trapped here again?"

[broshaw]

Huh. Vengeful ghost cat of Guatauva eating someone's life force through cat scratches? That sounds about right for this stupid goddamn ship and all its convoluted magical bullshit.

But -- she won an illusion of freedom? She's trapped here again?

"She's here? NOW? You're fuckin' kiddin' me! That stupid goddamn idiot bitch fuckin' --" He very nearly pushes himself to his feet so that he can scream at the gods more appropriately, but moving so abruptly causes a serious bout of vertigo.

"Wwooooaaah, okee, sittin' down now." Fuck. Headrush... "Fuckin'... Yeah, she fucked people over! And it didn't even do nothin'?! She's just... back here again?" He can't decide if he should laugh or cry.

[theweakhavepurpose]

He flinches at the touch but doesn't shake off her hand, doesn't have the energy for that right now. Instead he sits down on the ground and tenderly presses his fingers against his own nose, wincing as the cartilage shifts around.

"Did he know? This was uh.. last month sometime. I haven't really seen him since then." Which sucks because he is thirsty as fuck for that pirate and can't seem to pin him down. He goes to run his hands through his hair, grunting in pain because he forgot that should they need to identify Sharky's body he's got a nice set of dental records in his forearm. He'll need to wash that out later, his only hope is all the alcohol Pickle's had been drinking sorta sanitized it because the human mouth is disgusting.

"Yeah she was pissed about it too, spent days screaming in the hallways that she was gonna rip the balls off the people responsible. Which I think means Izzy actually. Haven't talked to her cuz I like my balls where they are and I don't want her getting ideas cuz I know him." He nearly fucks up his bandaging of his own arm, which is going terribly anyway, reaching out to try and shove Pickles back down. "She's from your group huh? What'd she do to you?"

[decohere]

Ava sighs apologetically and slips her hand away, realizing Pratt isn't interested in such feeble attempts at comfort. She wishes she knew how to do right by him here, be a better friend, but instead she joins them on the floor in a tired heap.

She likes Jenny, from the time she'd given her dolls and a lesson on how to ask for specifically what you want. She felt she was valid when she tried to storm the ship in search of her lost brothers. She had felt sad for her tragic fate, stuck alone on her ship and losing herself slowly. Because there was only so much one soul could give... she'd been happy to see her again on the island, thought it was a decent opportunity for her to make an exchange for what the Captain had lost and what she had too. And it all ended so badly, with Jenny bleeding out and... "It's Friday that wanted to save her. It was the only way. To keep her alive, she had to be bound back to the ship..." Ava lowers her head. "I was one of those assholes. Involved."

And when Jenny had collapsed onto the floor in defeat, Ava had been there beside her. She closes her eyes. Because she knows that... doesn't change how Pickles must feel towards Jenny and what she had done. And she doesn't even know the half of it, does she?

"Haven't seen either of them this month. Jenny nor Izzy," she frowns. It doesn't help her feel any less suspicious. Nor worried.

"Would you have done any differently, than her? If you had the opportunity," Ava asks Pickles curiously, unchallenging.

[broshaw]

"Fuck Jenny, if I see that bitch again I'm gonna stab her! Rip her goddamn... head off, ughhhh." Okay, okay, taking a breath. Fuuuck, he needs some juice. And for his death to have meant something. Damn. The only thing keeping him afloat now is how novel the feeling of despair is after years of nothing. Any emotion is a good emotion, right? Right. Fuuuuuuck.

"Of course I would have done differently, I wouldn't have fucked up." Getting trapped again is a rookie fucking move. She probably did it because her stupid fucking brothers didn't get out. "She slit all of our throats for nothing. Hah! Trustin' the Captain, you see where that gets ya???"

Okay, he's done.

"God, she's so fucking stupid. She probably doesn't even realize I'm wanderin' around, fuckin' lame." She is, in his opinion, gay to the point of obliviousness for Friday. It's a thing.

[theweakhavepurpose]

"... Why didn't you all come back after she slit your throats though? That's kinda how this whole shit works." He'd always been suspicious that there'd be a limit to that, eventually they'd die too much and just fade away. But if the way Darcy had explained this was right, then so long as they didn't give up and still had enough emotions to power the ship, they wouldn't turn into shades.

Of course, he's pretty sure she got that info direct from the Captain so who knows if that's a lie or not. Hn.

"I don't think anyone trusts the Captain it's more like.... we need him. It's his magic that keeps this whole place going, so if we kill him it probably collapses like a blackhole with all of us inside. But if we can work around him we can maybe get shit accomplished." Pratt frowns because he is not a strategist, he's not even very smart and his brain is condensed soup, but he's pretty sure someone out there must have a plan for how to convince the Captain to help them. "We're fucking trying man. Me and Steven were trying to barter with him, and he at least listened. Probably to laugh in our faces but like, I dunno man. I'm not gonna kill everyone on board if I have a say in it."

Which, he sometimes doesn't.