come_sailaway | How far would I travel to be where you are?

Entry tags:

How far would I travel to be where you are?

Who: Skulduggery Pleasant and YOU!
What: Skulduggery is organizing his thoughts and plans like a rational, well-balanced individual. Don't you want to be a part of that?
When: The days before the event (pick between May 3-9 for chronology)
Where: Photos at Sea! Some random deck! The pool! Somewhere else??
Warnings: Nothing specific, but generally: talk about death, destruction, torture, you know, that kind of stuff.
Notes: A little bit of everything here, from conspiracy plotting to star-lit poolside interludes. Skulduggery's trying to find a pattern in the passengers (lol good luck buddy) as well as some alternative transportation -- if your character has been thinking about hitting the high seas, Skulduggery is here to provide ideological support. If you want to learn some magic, well... maybe he can help there, too!
(PS: I used brackets, but if you prefer prose, I will follow your lead!)

1. [photos at sea] i got boxes full of pepe!

[Skulduggery can be found perusing the souvenir photographs some days. Well, perusing is the wrong word -- really, he seems to be arbitrarily rearranging the pictures, occasionally scribbling on them with a gaudy souvenir pen. It's basic stuff, really: if he recognizes somebody, he labels them; if he knows how they arrived, he moves them to one side; if they know magic, they're on the upper rows; that sort of thing. He can't take the pictures with him -- he's tried, okay, it's not worth the heartbreak -- so he's just going to cut out the middle man.

They still disappear, of course, and so more often than not Skulduggery can be heard swearing as he refills empty spots with new photos, trying to remember what goes where. Someone ought to tell him that the conspiracy theorist look isn't doing him any favors.]

2. [the decks] it's about the implication!

[On another day, Skulduggery is spotted out on the decks. It's a long stretch of open space, perfect for pacing while deep in thought, and Skulduggery's been pretty deep in thought lately. The information he's gained so far is scattered far and wide over a vast array of questions, and without Valkyrie here to bounce ideas off, he's forced to talk to himself.

Which he does. Mostly as he's examining one of the lifeboats, as thoroughly as a time-traveller aboard the Titanic.]

No holes. That would've been my first bet, too. Lifevests accounted for, flares -- hmmm. All of them replaced? Yeah, seems like. What was it he said...

[If it's not one stream of thought that catches attention, then it might be the latter, when he sends a few fireballs out into the distance, watching them evaporate uselessly on their way to the horizon from his comfy lounging spot on the lifeboat.] Not that near, then. Over a kilometer? Lots of room, there...

3. [the pool] do not try to swim to europe!

[Finally, and probably most unsettlingly: Skulduggery spends one afternoon in the pool.

Literally, I mean. His suit jacket, hat, and shoes are all neatly set aside on one of the chairs, while Skulduggery himself is hanging out in the deep end wearing his slacks and shirt. He can be seen walking laps across the surface of the water, which rolls rhythmically beneath him, as if trying to emulate a comfortable meadow full of gentle hills. Every so often, he starts to sink; sometimes just to his ankles, sometimes as deep as his waist. When that happens, Skulduggery shakes his head and stomps his feet extra hard as he climbs right back out. At some point, he's rolled up his sleeves, which you know means business.]

3b. [the pool] nightman cometh
[There's a chance, of course, that it's after dark: if that's the case, Skulduggery's actually floating on the water, sinking under the surface and rising again like cork bark. He's manipulating the water beneath him, forming a column that rises a few feet above the water level, laying back and doing a little star-gazing. There's a song he's humming, but otherwise, for once, he's not filling the quiet with chatter. If it weren't for the pool lights and the moving water, maybe you wouldn't even notice he was there.]

4. [wildcard] yee-haw!
[Got something specific in mind? Throw it up here and I'll come to YOU! Skulduggery is all over the ship, aside from the buffet, and he's extremely interested in any stories you have to tell him. ESPECIALLY ones about your world, or the captain. He loves those stories the most!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fantastic. One of the few people here he doesn't entirely despise and apparently he's gone insane and is talking to nothing.

"Planning to take one of those out for a joyride?" said as Skulduggery relaxes into one of the lifeboats before fireballing the poor air that did nothing wrong.

"And who are you talking to?"

Skulduggery stares at the fireball disappearing into the air. He'd expected there to be a barrier close by the ship -- something narrower, or at least something more likely to react to having fire hurled at it. So far, no dice.

He seems surprised that somebody actually responded to him, but he's his usual chipper self as he says, "Good to see you. I'm thinking I might, maybe. If the weather stays nice. And..."

Don't say "my partner trapped in a separate reality from me," do not say "my partner trapped in a separate reality from me" --

"...I was talking to you?"

Nailed it.

"Of course you were." He's not convinced by that for a millisecond.

"Considering there's nothing out there, and you can't starve to death, it's probably a bad idea to go floating off into the nothingness of the ocean with no sense of direction. You may be out there for an eternity."

Not that he cares what Skulduggery does one bit. And no he's not wearing that shirt. He is in his suit like a respectable billionaire Omnic.

Skulduggery is such a good sport that he doesn't mention the lack of flair. Too bad, that's all he's got to say about it.

"Which do you think is worse? An eternity out there, by myself, or..." He gestures down the deck, towards the nebulous "evil presence" in the bridge. "Really, I'm torn. I do love to hear myself talk, but there's only so much of me any one person can take."

Just be impressed he hasn't burnt it yet. Only because he doesn't want to set the cabin that's been assigned to him on fire - not that he's even met his roommate yet. But he's polite enough to not destroy all of that person's stuff.

"If you're alone long enough you'll go completely crazy and then you won't be able to take yourself either. Really both options are bad, but one involves slowly bleaching all those bones of yours or potentially drifting to the bottom of the ocean."

Skulduggery lifts one finger. "Counter-point," he says, only to realize that he doesn't have a counter-point. That had been how he'd imagined it'd go when he thought of it himself, just a few days ago.

"Okay, you raise a few good arguments." But that doesn't get him out of the lifeboat, that's for sure. "But, look at it this way... I wouldn't be here. At least, I wouldn't have to be. Not all of the time."

Yeah, so much for being into the whole mystery cruise thing. Looks like his tone's changed!

"A compelling case." Skulduggery sure knows how to make a counter-point.

"And being out there is better? Considering everything about this place I wouldn't be surprised if you got fifteen feet away and then it sucked you back onto the ship like you're attached to a bungie cord."

Skulduggery tilts his head, rolling the words over for a moment. That would be interesting. It would be a surefire way to keep account of all of them. Hard to pull a moving shell trick if everyone's tied to the same shell.

He leans back and looks down over the edge of the boat.

His curiosity is purely theoretical when he asks, "Do you think so?"

Oh he sees that look.

He absolutely sees that look.

Sure it's the same look that Skulduggery always has. But he can see it.

"..... Would you like me to throw you?"

It would honestly be cathartic for all involved really.

Skulduggery cannot remember the last time he was thrown anywhere. He's usually just done it himself, pushing off the air like a starter brick.

"I would love for you to throw me."

He has a feeling that Max would probably chuck him regardless of his opinion on the matter, but at least this way they both get something out of it!

He absolutely would catapult him off the deck regardless of what Skulduggery says. However;....

His aforementioned concerns about the skeleton either drifting forever or sinking to the bottom of the Mariana Trench to become a habitat for deep sea fish remain.

"Maybe we should tie you to a rope should you not come boomeranging back." which he's still kind of expecting, he'll toss Skulduggery and somehow he'll hit something and launch right back into Max and they'll both go through the wall behind him.

"First of all, I'm touched that you care enough for my safety to suggest a lifeline." Skulduggery stretches one arm over his chest, which is pointless because he doesn't have muscles, but it pays to limber up before being hucked through the air.

"Second of all, don't be such a baby. Do I look like somebody who needs a rope?"

"I care more about the murder charges should you sink to the bottom." He doesn't, he cares about if Skulduggery dies a watery demise, he'll just never say it out loud.

"Very well, if you want to potentially rot for all eternity where no one can get to you, I won't stop you." He rolls his eyes, that's what he gets for trying to be helpful. He should know better.

Skulduggery laughs. "Who's going to know? We're all alone, here. You can murder me all you'd like and get away free and clear. ...Well, at least until I miraculously resurrect myself, as everyone is so convinced we'll do."

He doesn't believe it at all. Luckily, he doesn't think this is going to be particularly dangerous.

"Okay, I'm ready." He is so excited about this. He's right within grabbing range of Max, he's prepared to be hurled into the sea, and he's about seventy-five percent sure that he can find a way back up to the deck from down below. Those are pretty good odds in his experience!

His concern is more that Skulduggery wouldn't die, and therefore wouldn't revive. It's not like he'd drown. He wouldn't be crushed or dismembered. He'd simply sink to the bottom and be stuck there forever like an immortal cask of Amontillado.

But he's also still pissed about the whole shirt thing. And he is not someone with good emotional regulation, so even though he thinks he might be dooming Skulduggery to a watery torture prison, he's still gonna do it.

That's what friends are for.

Two things will become immediately apparent, one is that Max can move far faster than he lets on, and the second is that he is way stronger than he looks. He may appear to be a bunch of fragile metal tubing, but in an instant he's next to Skulduggery, sinking his metal fingers into his torso and using his rib cage as a set of handles - and then he chucks him overboard with way more force than would be expected.

It's lucky for Skulduggery that he also doesn't weigh very much because for a brief while he's going to get to experience the joy of flight. Max can probably launch him nearly 100 meters before he hits the water, hopefully Skulduggery enjoys his time cosplaying as a football.

Welp!

Skulduggery realizes he's airborne before he fully recognizes that Max has moved, letting out a delighted yell as he makes some great time. He rolls onto his back to watch the ship retreating behind him, with nothing so much as a twinge to indicate he's pulling on any kind of tether.

Flying is a technique Skulduggery has never mastered, and this is not time to try. But pushing off the air below him is a common trick, and he adds an extra fifty meters to the distance before his trajectory inevitably moves downward. That's when he realizes that this next part is probably going to hurt.

The only thing he can do is tuck and roll as he hits the water, which feels a lot like concrete at this speed, but thankfully his clothes take most of the impact. Then, he's cracking through a wave and being knocked around, dizzy and disoriented until he grabs hold of the current and finally manages to pop up to the surface. He rises like a reverse Titanic, though thankfully in one piece, until he's standing on top of the rolling waves. He looks around, expecting some kind of retaliation for coming out this far... but there's nothing here. No sea monsters, no sharks, no bone-eating fish. And no sign of the barrier he knows is out there. Just how much space did the captain need?

Aw, damn. The ship is so far away. And he just knows that Max saw every bit of that less-than-graceful landing. He sends up a fireball, first, to show that he's fine, then propels himself back towards the ship via water. Ugh. That actually did kind of hurt.

Be seeing you around skeleton cowboy.

He stands near the railing with his hands behind his back, watching as Skulduggery careens off towards the horizon. Honestly he'd been expecting him to hit something long before then, there's a part of him that was vaguely considering that the skyline was a huge matte painting and they were just on some elaborate set in a warehouse somewhere.

Guess not because that sure is water that Skulduggery hit, and not exactly gracefully either. Looks like that probably hurt, though he's not sure if a skeleton has the nerves to feel pain? They hadn't really covered that in getting to know each other 101. There's a few moments where Max assumes that he's sinking to a watery grave, and then he pops up like a halloween themed buoy. Well that's promising.

The flare is noted and appreciated, apparently Skulduggery is okay and Max isn't a murderer ~~here anyway~~. So he stands there and waits as he makes his way back to the boat.

And waits.

And waits some more.

Guess he threw him kind of far. He's still heading this way and is still sort of a spec in the distance.

More waiting.

Maybe Max should have brought a book.

He's going as fast as he can, but Skulduggery has been out of practice with long-distance waterskiing, here. He has to jog the last bit, just to keep himself from sinking under the surface, and then he's at the hull of the massive cruise liner. It is... very tall. And very smooth. He didn't think it would be so... smooth. No patches indicating big repair work, no exposed bolts to show shoddy craftsmanship, just... a big, steel wall spanning hundreds of feet.

Okay! He can do this.

He clears a good bit of it simply by bringing the water up to crash against the ship, and then he scrambles to scale the rest of the ship by pushing the air out from under him, grabbing ahold of portholes, and eventually making it up to the deck.

He is soaking wet when he finally slides over the railing, collapsing in a pile at Max's feet. He rolls over, staring up at the other, and then gives two big thumbs up. "You've got a hell of an arm on you!"

It's not until Skulduggery gets much closer that Max realizes that he's not swimming. He's not even floating, he's more... skidding along the surface on his feet. Sort of walk/jogging. Max is too far away for Skulduggery to see that he's surprised, and honestly only being able to move his eyes doesn't leave him a lot of facial expressions to begin with. But of all the things to happen; from bungee cording back into the hull or exploding on impact with the ocean, he'd never considered that Skulduggery would turn himself into a skeletal jetski in order to get back here.

He actually peers over the edge of the railing to watch once he gets to the bottom of the hull, "You'll recall I did suggest a rope." the laughter in his voice is likely too soft to carry that far down, but he can't help but say it anyway.

Though apparently Skulduggery has other ideas of how to get back up on deck and as soon as Max sees that he scrambles back from the railing in case a giant wave comes over the side.

Delicately sidestepping the spreading puddle from the soggy skeleton at his feet, he folds his arms and glares, "You could have told me you could do that."

Because he wouldn't have spent a precious several minutes trying to talk him out of it prior.

Those precious minutes were a bonding moment Skulduggery will never forget.

"I told you I was magic," Skulduggery points out, rather smartly he thinks. Of course, he's also lying on the floor like a wet sack of bones, so...

Speaking of magic, Skulduggery uses his to dry his clothes, snapping his fingers and bringing a hot breeze through the fabric to evaporate the moisture. He definitely does it extra casually, to rub in how cool being magic is.

"Would you have believed me if I told you I could walk on water?"

"Absolutely not, but you still could have told me." He huffs, going out of his way to show how annoyed he is since he doesn't need to breathe and no huffing should be happening. It's obviously the principle of the matter!!

"Was there anything out there?" Because this little experiment had mostly been Max feeling good about chucking someone into the ocean, but also just a little about seeing what would happen if they left the ship.

And importantly Max is going to cherish the memory of watching Skulduggery slamming into the water forever.

Skulduggery pushes himself up and pops to his feet, dusting off his lapels. He's pretty sure Max knows more about him than he knows about Max, but he doubts that point will go over well with how huffy the other's being.

"Well... let's see, how far was that? Maybe two hundred meters by the time I hit the water? There was no resistance that I could feel, no tether of magical property to yank me back... And no barrier. I know it's out there, but I hadn't expected it to be much further out than that."

Skullduggery should be considering himself extra lucky that Max doesn't punch him over the railing for that. He would have been momentarily inconvenienced by his skele-friend sinking to the depths! He could have saved himself the infinitesimal iota of concern.

"Approximately that distance, yes." slightly gloating that he was able to throw him that far, he'd expected him to be heavier. Not that he'd ever picked up a skeleton before, but he just looks more dense than that.

"How do you know it's out there? Maybe no one cares if we leave because most people would die at some point and just end up back on the boat. Like building a prison on an island, no reason to care about security when they're dead if they leave anyway."

"I've been told there's a barrier by a... reliable source. I wasn't told how far away; I assumed it would be close by. Better for the captain to keep an eye on us."

But that's not the case at all. What, are they supposed to be able to just... float away, if they'd like? There's nothing stopping him from spending the rest of his life literally on the sea. Nothing but his own endurance, which is easy to build up.

"Maybe if we try it again, but higher up, I could go further." He pouts audibly as he complains, "I wish I could fly."

A reliable source. Probably the same one that told Skulduggery that the captain was eating their emotions with a tiny fork and his pinky up. Max is less than impressed as he folds his arms and regards the now much taller skeleton. (He liked him better on the ground where he could tower over him) "Why exactly do we need to find this barrier? Because if it's there or not hardly changes any escape attempts. We'd be heading off in a random direction hoping to find land."

He's a little snappish as he retorts with, "Shall we build a catapult or maybe a giant slingshot?"

Though as soon as he speaks the words he realizes that Skulduggery probably means exactly that.

How far would I travel to be where you are?

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