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]

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.