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ataraxionlogs2015-05-08 05:27 am
circumitus) wrote in ataraxionlogs2015-05-08 05:27 am
Entry tags:
what a dark mistake all my life has been [semi-closed]
CHARACTERS: Rey and potentially-really-pissed-off Friends.
LOCATION: Deck 40, mostly.
WARNINGS: Yelling and cursing and possibly cuddles oh god the horror.
SUMMARY: Rey is terrible. The end.
NOTES: Catch-all log for pretty much anything that has happened after this post.
If anyone wants to do something else for later in the month in regards to the May subplot, I can whip up a super special awesome starter or whatev.
(P.S. I can go either way with action or prose, whichever you prefer!)
There's a somber pause when Rey clicks the communicator off.
She'll deal with the aftermath later. Right now, she just wants a moment of peace.
Thanks to her recon syndrome, those moments are all too rare, because she's alone in an abandoned room on the fortieth floor. Eventually she will leave, most likely take refuge in Sophie's quarters.
For the time being, she'd rather delay the inevitable as much as she possibly can.
LOCATION: Deck 40, mostly.
WARNINGS: Yelling and cursing and possibly cuddles oh god the horror.
SUMMARY: Rey is terrible. The end.
NOTES: Catch-all log for pretty much anything that has happened after this post.
If anyone wants to do something else for later in the month in regards to the May subplot, I can whip up a super special awesome starter or whatev.
(P.S. I can go either way with action or prose, whichever you prefer!)
There's a somber pause when Rey clicks the communicator off.
She'll deal with the aftermath later. Right now, she just wants a moment of peace.
Thanks to her recon syndrome, those moments are all too rare, because she's alone in an abandoned room on the fortieth floor. Eventually she will leave, most likely take refuge in Sophie's quarters.
For the time being, she'd rather delay the inevitable as much as she possibly can.
levi | lounge | may 20th
It was bad enough the first time this sort of thing transpired on the Tranquility. At least back then they knew the cause. This "thinning barrier" crap Charles spilled about over the network a few days ago was not only news to her, but there also seemed to be no end in sight to the pain that ailed her and her fellow passengers.
Rather than being a constant tagalong to her friends, Rey would simply kid herself instead that she could handle this on her own. Hell, it's not like it's the worst pain she's ever felt. She could even be responsible enough to at least seek out the healthier alternative with painkillers from the medbay, but she likes her plan of booze therapy much better.
Two bottles of beer and three space bourbon shots in and her head is already on the table. Not because of drunkenness (this is barely enough to get her even a little buzzed thanks to her fucking fortitude) but because of the sheer raw drill continuously hammering in her brain and entire body.
Head down, her hands moved lazily towards the pile of shotglasses she procured from the bar, and began stacking them into a neat glass tower.
Not for any purpose, really. Just boredom.
Eventually she picks off the final shotglass from the top of her "artistic endeavor", pouring another shot of bourbon with her good hand while her other dangled loosely at her side, flopped over the booth seat.
After the shot had been served, she was now faced with the conundrum of how to consume the fruits of her hard work, given her current physical position. She tips the glass, almost like she's just making it dance while she contemplates this and perhaps her place in the universe.
no subject
He can only sleep so much with his brain throbbing against his skull, can only rely on the adrenaline from training so far as he can manage even that much properly through the pain; it's a testament to his willpower (and yeah, also his stubbornness) that he's waited this long to think of skulking around the lounge, mostly to try and drink it off- hangover be damned- but also maybe, on some level, to find some poor asshole to collapse onto. He can't be the only one with this idea, after all, and he knows he's not the only one with this problem.
And so he shuffles his way there after a solid three hours of trying to get some sleep, bleary-eyed and agitated... Though his spirits are lifted considerably at the sight of the room's only other occupant- Rey, draped like a cloak over one of the seats with an impressive array of empty bottles at her side.
"Beat me to it," he grunts as he makes his way over to the bar to swipe the first bottle he can reach before depositing himself into the seat across from her with a wince. "...It's fucking bright in here."
It isn't, of course, but in this condition even the dim light bouncing off of the glasses is enough to feel like stabs of lightning shooting straight through his eyelids. Enough to illuminate that less than presentable state Levi's in, too: there are flecks of dried blood off to one side of his nose and a matching trail on the back of his hand; his hair- left to grow past his ears- is clearly weighed down by his neglect of its proper care; there's a shadow at his jaw and a distinct ruffled quality to his entire person, like a cat that's been pet the wrong way but has more important things on its mind than fixing the mess.
(His room isn't faring much better- when Levi can't even get his nut up to clean, you know there's a Problem.)
A problem he's trying to fix on his own terms. He's quiet and unmoving for a moment, collecting himself before cracking his bottle open and giving it a slightly skeptical look before downing half of it in one long gulp. It's just wine (he thinks...) but either way he'll probably regret that tomorrow.
He'll worry about it tomorrow, too. He eyes Rey's refuse pile.
"Is it working?"
no subject
Rey's just mostly pissed off that it still hurts. It hurts and it's getting to the point where simply getting out of bed these days has become a herculean effort.
At first she just makes a primal grunt in response to Levi's comments. Very unladylike, as she generally is.
Though after a few tired blinks with bloodshot eyes, she finally speaks. "Will get back to you on that once it starts actually kicking in. Still feels pretty fucked."
Getting hit by a speeding car shouldn't hurt less than this. But seeing as Rey was one of the earliest casualties hit by with this shit, the nonstop agony plaguing the last several days (nine, to be exact) has become nothing but exhausting.
"Could probably kiss any sleep goodbye if it wasn't for Sophie," she mutters, and huffs. Somehow, she manages to drag herself upright just long enough to finish the shot in one gulp, then slamming the glass back down over the table.
Fuck a duck.
no subject
Not that Levi's in any condition to appreciate it, of course.
"So it's true, then?" He slouches a little into the seat. "What that guy said." He winces at the noise before taking another (dubiously) healthy chug, setting the bottle down but not relinquishing his grip just yet. That banging... Was that really necessary...
no subject
Somehow, she's mustered the strength to prop herself on her elbows to keep her head from falling back down over the surface. That way she can actually have some semblance to a conversation without faceplanting to the table.
"It's nothing that hasn't happened before, so this isn't at all surprising," she says, sounding groggy. "What's new is actually knowing what the cause of this may be."
By this she gestures to her head, unknowing to a little bit of blood streaming down her nose.
no subject
"You got blood," he says as an afterthought, tapping his own face to mirror the path of it down her lip.
He downs another fifth of the bottle.
"Anyway. Here's hoping we can smoke it out like this, before it gets any worse." As if it hasn't already become 'worse'- when Levi hasn't showered in days you know 'worse' is a point that's been reached. "Or drown it."
no subject
Rey stares at him for a moment, as if Levi were speaking an utterly alien language to her. Her hand comes up to her own face, where he's pointing, smearing the blood from under her nose so she can catch some of it on her fingers.
"Oh." Her hand then covers her nose completely. She grabs some towels she had taken from the bar area because of the likely event that this sort of thing would happen again. She's been bleeding religiously for days now. "Probably not, but it's worth trying. Just to cover all the bases."
No, not really. Nothing is worth this much pain. Shut up.
"So far physical contact seems to be the only effective method, though. It was like that last time something like this happened."