come_sailaway | Are you on the square? Are you on the level?

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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.

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There's no helping the laughing at this point. "I mean...it could have happened?" What does he know about it? Honestly, he's sure that being cursed it probably a thing. "Is she one of the aforementioned murderous teens I've heard so much about?" Cause Lucius told him about them.

"Did I tell you God doesn't like me? Cause I'm pretty sure that's part of being immortal. Cause there was this girl on a bike in my void and she said she didn't like me and she didn't say in so many words that she was God, but she didn't say she wasn't God."

"Yeah, she's probably like eighteen. Already killed me once, and apparently she attacked the Captain at one point? Balls of fucking steel on that woman."

Wait. Wait what? "Like God specifically has it out for you? What the hell did you do to deserve that? I killed probably like... I dunno.. over a hundred people and I didn't wind up in hell when I died. Why would God be pissed at you?"

"Huh. I think...I heard something about that. Sounds fucking weird to me even now." But yeah. She seems like someone vaguely terrifying. Eventually they're going to meet her and she's gonna punch an animatronic thing.

"I dunno. I'm kind of a mess. I probably wouldn't like me....nah, that's a lie. I would totally like me even if I wasn't me. I'm awesome." A pause. "Yeah. That sounds accurate." But...."I dunno. I've never fully understood what it's about. We didn't have a real conversation about it."

"Not sure I'd punch the dude who magically dragged me to a ship in a reality he made himself and could probably rip me apart on an atomic level. But she took that risk I guess. I don't wanna be like...immolated or have my bones disintegrated or something." But apparently none of that had happened to Clarke? Maybe the Captain was nice or good natured or something.

"Dude everyone should like you. You're hella cool. I used to believe in God, but then I you know... got tortured a bunch by religious nutjobs, and I died. So if there is one, they're a dickbag for being mean to you."

"Yeaaah. Diego would totally do it. Five would go for the axe. Or weirdly make friends with him. It's hard to say, honestly. Five used to be an assassin, so you know...it's hard to be sure." They're still voting for the axe. Especially with the blinking. "I could be ash after I'm dead, but not dying in a fire or...whatever that would be."

There's a brief moment where they have to fight the instinctual urge to insist that they're not actually that cool, which just registers as a sort of blank and confused expression. "God's always going to be a dickbag. Even if it's a little girl on a bike." Yeah. Just ignoring the compliments. Super cool.

"Axe is such a bad idea man. Pretty sure if he tried to slam an axe into the Captain it would bounce off and hit Five right in the face. And then the Captain would probably laugh? He sorta seems the type." Considering the man had quoted Satan at him, Pratt has a pretty good idea of what things the Captain liked.

Pratt is hopped up on the hype of going on a hunt, he's going to do a murder, he's gonna save his friend from being possessed, but he is also not gonna let Klaus get away with that.

"You know you're awesome right? Like... that's a fact that exists in the universe."

“Five is Five. It’s his go to.” But Klaus hasn’t actually talked to the Captain. At least they don’t remember talking to the Captain.

There is a very obvious discomfort as he squints up at the general space above himself. “Yeaahh. Totalllyyy.” Cue the nervous laughter because who can actually sound like they mean it. “Super awesome.” It’s the earnest compliments about him as a person that trip him up the most. Couldn’t he just say he was hot and let him off easy? Gosh.

Anyway, just awkwardly gonna rub the back of his neck and try to change the subject. “So what weapon do you think would be better than an axe?”

Squint. Okay that's.. a good start. Says the guy who would never admit to doing anything good or helpful or useful in his life. The self-deprecating leading the self-deprecating. "Close enough. Now just tell yourself that once a day and we're all good."

He nods, like he's just helped Klaus get some self esteem or soemthing.

"Me? I personally wouldn't attack the Captain at all. Maybe if I knew how to use magic? But I can't, and that shit doesn't exist in my world so all I have is guns and knives and if it were that easy there wouldn't be hundreds of years of passengers previously."

Klaus still cannot even look at Pratt's face right now. "No promises, buddy. I'm not very good at daily affirmations."

That's all fair. Klaus isn't exactly keen on attacking the Captain either, but his siblings are all big dummies about everything. "I guess that's fair. I mean...I don't have shit, really. I'd probably die before I even got close. Or maybe he'd let me get close enough because it would be funny for him and then he'd kill me."

Considering that Pratt is hours away from rubbing blood all over his face and jumping through a window chasing Sharky around, it's probably good for Klaus to not take his advice. Though he'll be coming back to this later when he's a little more sane.

"Maybe. I think that's why Clarke was able to break his head open. It probably looked fucking awful and then he walked around bleeding and gross with some kind of shadow realm in his skull instead of a brain."

Pratt didn't get the memo that there was no blood involved. Whomp whomp.

Klaus is just...not sure he is comfortable even saying good things about himself that aren't like...about his ass or something else. Sooooo...you know. Woops.

"It sounds like it would be kind of gross and weird to see it, yeah." He's got no reason to believe that Pratt doesn't have the memo or that that's not exactly how it went. "Wonder how long it took to heal." These are totally normal conversations.

"He's got magic right? He probably just put his hand against his head and sssshlllrrp." He makes a slurping sound which is what he assumes it sounds like when your skull is reformed after getting a lobster cracker to the cranium.

"Which makes me wonder why he looks the way he does. Just some dude. He could be like.. a dragon. If I was made of magic and was gonna keep people hostage I think I'd look like Bowser. And also breathe fireballs."

That's both a weird sound and an accurate sound to Klaus' brain. "Probably just like that, yeah."

Klaus laughs at that. "I mean...that's fair. I don't know what I'd look like. But not like just...some dude." They frown. "Maybe Princess Peach. Or like...if Toad and Princess Peach were together because imagine being a cute mushroom princess. But still like...the vest as the top. Yeah."

"Oh yeah, deff rock the only vest top with the fully exposed cleavage, that's a hell of a look. And then the stylish mushroom cap that bobbles when you walk around. I can see it." He squints at Klaus trying to imagine him as a mushroom princess. He can almost do it too now that he's pretty fucking distracted from his 'must kill Sharky' plan.

"Ha. Yeah. Like who has time to be mad at you like that?" No one. Not even Klaus could be mad. "See? I'm so glad I understood what you were saying, but lots of people like Mario." And that makes it easier, really. "Also I'm figuring the skirt is like...mushroom themed, too. Cause what's the point of a mushroom princess if you have a boring fluffy skirt, to be honest?"

"Oh definitely with the like... you know the underside of mushrooms have all those gills? It'd look like that." He nods as if they're dictating mushroom law here. Mushroom Princess edicts.

"Alright. Okay. This is kinda awesome to think about instead of like.. everything else. Thanks man."

Klaus pauses, considering this before nodding. "Yes. I accept your suggestion." It's absolutely mushroom law. No one can argue with them. Now he kinda hopes he gets this outfit. Even if like...he doesn't have the cleavage aspect of it.

They give him a small smile. "Happy to help distract you, buddy. Didn't actually ever think about this kinda stuff before? Not that we played much video games back home, but...you know." They gesture vaguely. "Maybe we can start doing a 'what random character would you be from this game' thing occasionally. Mix and match is clearly allowed because I just did it."

Don't worry Klaus, it'll still look hot even without cleavage.

"Too busy time travelling and learning how to use super powers for video games. Sucks man, gotta make up for that time now. Make this weird afterlife worthwhile and fit in all the shit we didn't get to do back home." Like fantasizing about beating up their dads and imagining what outfits they'd wear in video games.

"Also ice cream. We should get ice cream more."

"I mean, yeah. Time traveling came later for me. Five did all the early time travelling. But yeah. Superhero shit was like...all the time." There's a shrug. Normal childhood things didn't happen. There was just too much of the other stuff.

"But I'm totally down for this. I want to do more cool things! And also eat more ice cream." He smiles a little. "I'm glad we're best bros."

Pratt manages something like a grin, pretty close anyway. "For sure man. You're awesome. And I'm gonna keep letting you know that til you believe it."

And that's a threat.

"Come on, let's see if Scoops has anything left before I have a total breakdown. Want my last meal to be mint chocolate chip."

"Wow. You come into my hou-" Wait. "Uh...nevermind. This is technically my house, but it's like we're in a ship apartment building. So..." Yeah. That joke doesn't quite work here.

Klaus lets himself get distracted by the thought of ice cream, though. "I can't even be mad about that. But I hope it's not your last meal and that you like...don't go too far off the deep end."

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

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