come_sailaway | Well, the world might cut you down again [OPEN]

Entry tags:

Well, the world might cut you down again [OPEN]

Who: Honoria Crabb & you!
What: Crabb comes back from being possessed
When: Second weekish of November on, mostly
Where: Many places on the ship
Warnings: Discussion of possession, death, etc.
Notes: Feel free to flip me to brackets I am comfortable with either style.

1. And your best might not be good enough [closed to Johnny]

You don't realise how much you take the ability to sleep for granted until it's abruptly ripped away from you. Maybe if she could go right from closing her eyes to dreaming, skip over the quiet, the dark, the almost-nothingness of drifting off, Crabb could bring herself to get more than a handful of hours over as many days, but she can't. So, she hasn't.

She's exhausted. She's terrified. She's still not actually left her room since she woke up, equally desperate for human contact and scared to face the aftermath of everything she missed.

All of this finally comes to a head when she almost passes out standing up in the bathroom, while trying to splash herself with water to wake herself up no less. She barely catches herself before she cracks her head off the sink and the sheer panic that hits is enough to simultaneously startle her awake and realise she really needs to sleep.

Sliding down to sit on the floor, back against the shower cubicle, she texts Johnny: Almost killed myself by falling asleep on my feet. Think I need an assist, here.

2. But just know you're not alone [cabins]

Eventually, she knows she has to brave the rest of the ship. Struggling with such a simple thing as stepping outside her door for more than a few minutes at a time is frustrating enough as it is, but the problem with getting more sleep and thus more energy is the stir craziness that follows.

So, eventually, she bites the bullet. Gets dressed in actual clothes again (pants and one of the assortment of flannels she apparently got delivered at some point) and tells herself she's not going back inside for at least an hour. That's doable.

Still, it's... hard. Harder than it should be. (She's getting kinda a brand new perspective on Johnny's issues, let her say that much...) So maybe you catch her before she's actually managed to leave, on any particular day, standing in the doorway of her cabin awkwardly.

3. And if you slip and lose your way again [food places, calgona, library, photos at sea]

One way or another she does, finally, start trying to get back into a routine again. Stopping by Windjammer for most of her meals in the morning, afternoon and evening—though she'll occasionally stop by Sand Dollars for coffee or a snack. During these times she's quiet, but not hostile to company, and honestly would actually welcome it even if you'd struggle to make her say so.

She starts going to the gym again, whaling on a punching bag almost as hard as Daisy did while occupying her body except, unlike Daisy, Crabb has the sense to wear wraps and stop when she feels her hands getting too stiff. You might catch her while she's still punching away, or maybe after she's decided it's time for a break and is sat against the wall with a bottle of water.

Sometimes, she swings by the library to either sit and read in one of the chairs, or check on the Black Binder and other assorted information to see if anything changed on that front in the time she was gone. Catch her staring at the damage report and mumbling, "What in blue blazes did you all get up to in only a month...?" whilst trying to ignore the creepy drawings.

And then, once or twice, you might catch her stood at the edge of Photos At Sea, staring at the displays from a distance, trying very hard to decide if she wants to risk finding what photos were taken of Daisy throughout the month. Usually, the answer to that would be an unshakeable yes, but, well, Crabb is in fact still very shaken.

Through all of this, she still can't bring herself to use the stairs. You know. Considering being thrown down them is how she got possessed in the first place.

4. Well, I'll know that you will be all right [existing CR or people who met Daisy]

Some people, however, are going to actually get a more... direct visit, from the recently returned detective. Those who she knows that Daisy would have had to interact with somewhat to keep up the act of Being Crabb, or who reasonably might have had a conversation with her at some point in the three weeks she wasn't actually around. People she knows and feels that she can go up to and just ask, "So what in God's name did she say to you, then?"

If you don't know Crabb particularly well but had an interaction with not!Crabb... well, you'll have to approach her first, much as she's tempted she can't actually go up to every single person on the ship and ask them without feeling like an idiot.

5. You still gotta try [wildcard]

Find me at

bluecitrine or at artisticblueteam#5757/in the discord.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Once they're at the bed, Johnny doesn't quite throw her in, but he does finagle her onto the bed before pulling the sheets around her. And then he pauses to take off his jacket and shoes and tie. Because, you know. Comfier sleeping arrangement.

She shuffles about to get comfortable and despite literally everything, she still doesn't watch him as he removes the impractical outer layers because it feels weird even though it isn't weird at all. Sue her, she still has hang-ups.

Otherwise, though, she tries to settle and waits for him to get in. "Hope this bleedin' helps. Reckon it should, mind, just— m'so damn tired of getting half way to bloody sleep and then jolting awake 'cause some stupid part of me thinks it's back... there. Even though I know I ain't."

"Having someone touching you might help with the feeling of...nothing. Because I am something, someone, who will hold you can love you. Roll onto your side, I am the big spoon." He's only two inches shorter than her, but he likes to feel tall. But also, he thinks draping over her is more likely to help than being held like a teddy bear.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember how it went before, y'know," she may sound grumpy, but for one, it's Crabb, that's a default setting, for two, she's extremely exhausted so she should get a pass anyway. It's a fond sort of grumpy, anyway, because he's right; those are the reasons she thinks this will help and it will feel safer, she thinks, with him as the big spoon again.

She fusses with the pillows a bit and rolls over onto her side.

"Someday, I'll be the one who needs to be held and you can have your turn. Right now, you're exhausted to the point of collapse and I've got you." He drapes himself in against her and gently kisses the back of her neck. "I'll always got you, 'Noria."

A little shiver runs over her, head to toe. Still adjusting to affection like this, still redrawing the lines that have been there for so long they're hard to scuff out. But she's stubborn enough, isn't she?

She finds his arm to squeeze and exhales long and slow as she lets her eyes shut. "We— we got each other. Always."

If you'd asked her six months ago where they'd be with each other by now, she'd never have believed the answer, but God if she isn't glad of it as she lives it.

"...wake me if you gotta go, yeah?"

"I'm not going, until you're awake." That has the sound of a promise to it as he settles himself in comfortably, closing his own eyes. No reason not to have a nap of his own here, right?

Because he's safe here. With her. As much as he would be with either of his boys.

"Mm. Can't say I didn't give you the out, then."

It's quiet, tired, and gently teasing while also being layered in a sense of being deeply, deeply touched. After everything... it feels good to be cared for. It feels good for someone to want to take possibly hours out of his day to help her like this.

There's the slightest tug of a smile on her lips as she relaxes and gives in to the exhaustion weighing down on her. Some subconscious part of her is braced for the shot of adrenaline to hit when the darkness takes over, when the edges of what's so dangerously close to Nothing creep in, but though she stirs part way—

There's warmth at her back. A person (Johnny, she's distantly aware) is there, at her back, arm draped over her, breathing and alive and real and so without ever truly breaching the fragile surface of her sleep, she slips back under.

And he's still there when she stirs awake, snoring softly, his cheek pressed into her shoulderblade. Warm, heavy with sleep, content to be here.

Snoring.

Snoring. A soft chuckle escapes her and a warm smile spreads across her face, listening to the sound and feeling the rise and fall of his breathing beneath it. The sleep debt she's accrued runs deep but she feels far better already, even with the faint haze of coming up from a deep sleep still hanging over her.

She doesn't want to move. Doesn't want to wake him or make him let go, just yet. But she has to shift a little where her position's sending a limb to sleep, and her hand squeezes a little tighter where it stayed rested on his arm.

"Mmmnhm?" It's a groggy sound, not a real question, as he nuzzles into her back casually. Surprise, Crabb, this is the sort of thing Watson and Cesar wake up to regularly, no shame.

Oh no, adorable. Crabb breathes a quiet laugh, giving his arm another squeeze and then, after a moment's hesitation, reaches her hand back to lightly touch his head, shifting a little more as a consequence.

"Mm. Sure didn't have to worry about sleepin' longer than you, huh..."

"Didja think you're the only one running ragged around here?" He sucks in a deep breath, stretching out along her back slowly. "I may not have let myself get into that state, but it's been wild in our rooms. Plus I had to meet up with Vance for gentleman lessons, and that took a lot of energy."

"Don't think I can even call what I've been doin' running ragged, exactly, so, point. All your boys and an extra rowdy teen, huh, that would wear you out. Y'welcome for the excuse to nap, I guess," teasing, teasing. This is... really nice, actually. Comfortable. She doesn't make any effort to really move at all, just settles. "Ain't braved the reality outside my door yet. Should see those boys of yours, should see where everyone's at, just..."

She exhales. She's just not been ready to step outside the door, yet. Is getting by on things brought to her to eat. Too tired to even go stir crazy.

"Honoria Crabb, I am the absolutely last man who gets to judge anyone for not being ready to leave their home. So if you're expecting me to push you before you're sufficiently recovered, you're wrong. That said, it would be a shame for both of us to have agoraphobia. People might start to think it's contagious."

He's teasing back, his voice warm as he works his way to proper wakefulness.

She rolls her eyes fondly and gently jabs him with an elbow. "They just might, eh. Nah, I ain't expecting you to push me, m'just frustrated with myself but if anyone gets that..." It's him, obviously. "Don't think it'll last, but I sure am gettin' a taste of it. Ugh, I'd say I'm at least glad I ain't gotta worry about sharing the space for now but after all this that feels..."

Unfair? Wrong? She knows where anyone who gets chewed up by this boat is going now, it's arguably a horrible thing to be glad someone's vanished even in a passing 'at least I have some privacy' way, but she really is glad of the privacy right now.

"Both things can be true, that it's fucked up what happens to ghosts here and that it's nice to have space to yourself." He slings one of his legs over her, pointedly not giving her any space at all. Surprise, you're not being just utterly glommed on.

"Says the limpet!" There's a real snort of laughter, there, and she baps him lightly on the knee while also doing nothing to make him move again. The more she allows herself things like this, the more she curses the culture at home; the Nothing really just amplified existing touch-starvation, in the end, didn't it?

"...swear I've done more holdin' and bein' held the last few days than I've done in decades. And that ain't a complaint."

"I'm glad it's not. I'm slowly becoming convinced that closeness like this isn't just nice to have, but entirely necessary to function. Though it must be said, the bed occasionally gets warm with three, occasionally four of us in it."

A pause. "That said, I am going to disentangle and borrow your restroom, if you don't mind."

"Still don't understand how you all fit," well, clearly they're cuddled up very close, but still. "Go on, yeah. Just come back to sit after, not that I'm holdin' you hostage, mind, but if you still got time to spare... company's nice. An' apparently Erin left me a story to tell you."

She shakes her head a little, but her expression is purely fond.

"Right, about a kiss."

He heads off to do his business. Wash the drool off his face. Stretch properly. And then he returns to the bed, this time just flopping down on it like a rabbit.

"I've already told her if she breaks your heart, I may well break her."

Crabb rolls herself over onto her other side so she's actually facing him, which unfortunately for her makes it immediately obvious that she's already a little flush in the face before even telling the story. More fortunately, it means he can see her flash him a grin.

"Y'know, I ain't doubt for a second that you'd do just that." She scrubs at her face for a second to get to as composed a point as she can reach, all things considered. "...more than one kiss now, actually. She came by again the other day and... God, Johnny, I'm so bleedin' doomed."

He laughs aloud.

"Oh, but what a way to go! And let's be honest with ourselves, you know she's just as nervous about you, fretting herself into oblivion. Alright, Honoria. From the top, tell me everything."

She gives the most dramatic groan ever, but laughs into her hand before uncovering her face completely. More heat is already creeping in. "Day I woke up, I hadn't a damn clue what was going on, y'know? Only thought I had after making it outta bed was to find you. Only 'course it was like six in the morning and you were with your boys and Erin was right outside in the hall with that breakfast spread of hers and—"

...nope, she has to roll onto her back to stare at the ceiling for a bit before she goes on.

"She asked me to hold her and God's teeth Johnny I said please! When she asked me! And I did, y'know, she pulled me in and I just clung to her like if I let go I'd bleedin' vanish again and it was..."

She gesticulates just. Wildly. There is absolutely no recognisable gestures in the mix, it is entirely flailing hands trying to convey an emotion she cannot convey in words easily.

"Intense." He gives her a word, to see if it fits into that hole in the conversation, because it seemed like a word for how Watson and Rich had felt, too.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject