ataraxionlogs | so let's raise the bar

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so let's raise the bar

CHARACTERS: Soysauce & open!
LOCATION: Kitchens, oxygen gardens and hallways.
SUMMARY: Trying to stay optimistic and light-hearted.
NOTES: Open for any time until next jump!

[ soysauce is a little thick sometimes; that's difficult to deny, and he's even willing to acknowledge it himself. but that doesn't mean he's ignorant to the constant danger present aboard the tranquility. he's definitely aware of how the ship can warp at any moment and throw everything into chaos; whatever atmosphere of peace that may rest over the ship at the moment is temporary at best.

but -- isn't that all the more reason to make the best of it while it lasts? he's never been good at remaining serious for too long, always searching for a silver lining to any exhausting situation, trying to keep spirits up no matter how difficult the situation. and so Soysauce spends his days cheerfully, offering the brightest smile he can manage to anyone who might meet his gaze. whenever he's not on security duty, he's out and around -- keeping himself occupied in the most high-spirited way he can. ]

kitchens ;

[ he spends a fair amount of time in the kitchens. it's peaceful there, and he likes to cook extra food whenever he can -- leaving it in the fridge in little containers, marked 'free for taking.' (he knows a few people here probably can't or won't cook -- no shame in that! -- so he'd like to make their lives just a bit easier.)

people walking by the kitchen might catch the savory scent of food cooking, the sound of pots and pans and utensils clanking. but they might also hear the lilting noise of cheerful whistling and humming, and maybe the sounds of shoes tapping lightly against the floor -- when he's waiting for things to simmer and cook, soy sometimes spends his time dancing. always keeping himself occupied somehow or the other. ]

hallways & gardens ;

[ he tends to be a bit less productive in the evenings, though. (words can't describe how much soysauce misses his home at times. the busy streets, the bright lights, the bustling nightlife of beacon -- things he holds dear to his heart and can't find anything even close to aboard the tranquility.) never content to just sit still anywhere, even while intoxicated, soy takes to wandering around the ship -- cheerfully waving and chirping at anyone he recognizes.

whiskey bottle in hand, cheeks slightly pink, pleasantly light-headed from the alcohol swimming in his veins, soysauce walks the hallways without any real destination, often ending up roaming the gardens in search of some poor person (victim?) to talk to. ]

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I'm afraid I can't do that, sir!

[ soysauce's answer is prompt and, perhaps surprisingly, also a little forceful. no -- 'forceful' might not be the right word. 'determined' seems more accurate.

and it's definitely determined when soysauce pounces forward, grasping at ned's sleeve with his free hand, his other hand still clumsily holding the whiskey bottle at his side as he looks up at ned -- really quite stubborn about keeping ned here, not letting him leave before there's a proper conversation going. ]

It's -- it's about manners, sir! As in -- as in, I would really like to fix what I did wrong! [ he's got enough liquor in him that he doesn't quite seem to realize the contradiction between his words and his actions, and soy gives a little nod as he continues stumbling through his words. ] An' it's very important! I think. Important -- to me, at least -- that I understand what it was that you seemed so uncomfortable about. Please, I'd like to know for sure.

[His eyes go wide and he goes straight-up stiff and the only thing that keeps Soysauce from getting flung ten meters away is that little voice in the back of his head telling him that he's not allowed to do that - which gives him enough time to see that what Soy holds is not, actually, a weapon, but a bottle of booze.

Needless to say a lot of that first bit of explanation gets overrun with the white buzz of panic and its recovery.

He... still shoves the guy away, though. Just with his normal strength. Eugh stop touching him, weirdo.]

Don't touch me.

[And then the rest catches up. He can't say that he doesn't like touching at all - that's changed - but he can definitely say that he doesn't want this guy's mitts on him. Huff.]

First.

[ soysauce honestly has no idea how close he's just come to getting flung into a tree. all he knows is that ned's shoved him away, and he goes stumbling back one, two steps -- ending up flumping to the ground, sitting on the grass.

there's an uncomfortable sort of pause as he struggles to comprehend what just happen. and then soysauce looks up at ned with a wide-eyed, somewhat watery stare. looking awfully a lot like a dog that's been kicked out in the rain, really. ]

I -- don't understand. Why -- what I did to anger you so much?

[ as cheerful as he tends to be while drunk, the alcohol also makes him go through more drastic mood swings, and soysauce looks on the verge of tears as he practically wilts. his shoulders droop as he stumbles through his words. ]

I ... I admire you, sir. But you don't -- . From last time. I don't know why ...

[Well damn, he didn't mean to knock the guy down. But other than a flicker of "oops" across his frown he doesn't make a move - not to help Soy up, or try to cheer him up, or reassure him in any way. Watching Soysauce wilt and crumble over him being pissy doesn't make him feel guilty at all. Just annoys him even more.]

Jesus Christ, [he mutters to himself, mumbled around his cigarette. The bike gets released in favor of crossing his arms and glaring down. Is this guy fucking serious?]

You're annoying, y'don't listen, won't leave me the hell alone, always playin' that goddamned saxophone - don't trust ya, either.

[... Netherlands one of those things is not like the others. He seems to realize it, too, huffs out a tiny puff of smoke and grumbles to himself.]

Admire me. S'weird.

[ ned might say those things without too much thought, but soysauce reacts like he's just been slapped in the face -- eyes widening when he hears that disapproving tone of voice, flinching slightly with each additional flaw that ned drones out. ]

It's --

[ a nervous swallow before soysauce sits up straighter, trying to keep his voice from wobbling. ]

It's not weird! To -- to admire you. You're strong, and you're tall, and you're kind to plants, and -- and you're efficient and you're excellent at your job and -- and --

[ that stiff posture doesn't last long before soysauce starts to wilt again, though, looking increasingly forlorn and hurt. ] -- and I still. Think you're a good person. That's why -- why I did what I did. Not to make you angry.

[As Soy goes on his expression becomes one of dawning horror

and it has absolutely nothing to do with how pathetically close the guy is to crying, let alone some divine realization of how horribly he might be treating Soy's confused, scrawny drunk ass and his sudden desire to repent. (His only desire is to be done with this and forget it ever happened.)

No, the horror, ladies and gents:]

You're stalkin' me.

[THIS ACTUAL FACE.]

... eh?

[ that's a pretty hefty accusation, even for a sober man. so between the alcohol muddling his thoughts and how distressed soysauce already is and the fact that it seems to come out of nowhere, soy can only give ned a wide-eyed, confused look for a few long moments. and then he finally seems to understand that short sentence. ]

Wh -- no! No, I'm not! How -- what? I'm not stalking you!

[ it's equal parts upset and indignant when he answers, hands braced against the ground. ]

I just -- I just wanted to apologize to you and make things right. I haven't followed you anywhere!

[THAT ACTUAL FACE... gets dialed down a few notches. But not much, and even a brief bout of furious smoking doesn't change it.]

Then why do you know that shit. About me.

[It's a cross between earnest accusation and the tone someone might use when poking a dead opossum, not quite sure if it's dead for real. Because, well, the logical part of his mind is saying that watching him work isn't -

no, that's still pretty goddamned creepy. Even if it's not technically stalking.]

[ well, to be honest about half of that was just optimistic assuptions about ned -- soy always likes to think the best about people whenever he can. but under current circumstances, he can't think to say that out loud, just looks wounded as he shakes his head. ]

I wouldn't do something like that! I just -- I've spoken to people who work here an' I've seen you working before and since you spend so much time here you must be good at what you do, and --

[ there's a pause, and soysauce sniffles quietly. awkwardly rubbing the heel of a hand against his eyes before mumbling, ]

-- I just admire you. That's not a -- a bad thing. I'm allowed to do that.

...

[Give him a second to think that over. As Soy speaks he finishes off his smoke, stays silent after, finally drops it and grinds it out beneath his heel. Normally he'd walk away right about now, maybe after saying something scathing about how he doesn't give a fuck about what Soysauce thinks he is or is not allowed to do, but there's one thing that catches in all of that - ]

Talked to - who.

[Who do you know on his staff, man.]

[ while ned finishes smoking and grinds out the butt, soysauce just sits on the ground sniffling and generally looking like a dog that's been kicked out in the rain. at least he tries to pull himself together enough to look up when ned answers -- scrubbing the back of a hand against his eyes as he mumbles, ]

Mostly -- mostly Mister Bardo.

[ he's dropped his whiskey bottle, and soysauce looks around blearily -- fetches it from where it lays in the grass and fidgets with it as he chews on his lower lip. ]

... I'm not a stalker. Or -- or an assassin. Or whatever else you think.

[The mental image he gets from that is one of Soy and Bardo sitting around gossiping about him while he works, and it's half something straight out of Seventeen magazine and half some secret KGB shit. His lips thin and he grabs his bike without realizing, quietly watching - almost pensive except for the traces of wariness - as the bottle rolls, as Soysauce grabs it.

When Soysauce speaks again. And yeah, kind of judging you, man, not because you're drunk but because he can.]

Still think you're a pain in the ass.

[ soysauce is still sniffling a little bit, clearly hurt by all of ned's brusque comments, and he sways a bit on his feet as he forces himself to stand -- the nearly-empty bottle tucked in the crook of one arm, eyes wide in a deer-in-the-headlights stare as he looks up at ned.

pause, as he comes to terms with what ned is saying. his mental facilities are still running a little slow, and there's a marked delay before he droops more -- looking thoroughly hurt as he tries to put together a response. ]

Is there -- is there any way to -- to change that? To change your mind. Make you change your mind? [ he picks at the bottle's label, head ducked as he continues speaking, his voice growing increasingly slurred. ] I'd like to fix it. What I did wrong. If i can?

[Oh, damn, sniffling. Oh, damn - the guy is standing, and Netherlands leans back when Soysauce starts to sway. No way in hell is he getting near that mess. He's wondering how far away he could get before the guy notices - seriously, he's done with this - when he hears the phrase "any way" and knows a damned good answer to that. Give him free shit, Soysauce, and of course he'll think you're less of a pain in the ass.

He pinches the bridge of his nose with a grimace and actually groans to himself. This would be so easy to take advantage of, but he's been trying to curb that tendency toward greed he has in the hopes that one day he can hand over a gift without having to mentally prepare for it.

So in the end he sighs out and speaks, slightly defeated and more than a little sullen, looking balefully over like this is all Soy's fault.]

Ask me when you're goddamned sober. An' - don't puke on the ground.

[Seriously, no dirt floors on the first level. He's not about to clean that up. That said, though, he is so out of here.]

... 'm not that drunk.

[ he might still be wobbling on his feet a little bit, but soysauce certainly isn't feeling nauseated or sick. and he certainly seems indignant enough as he scrubs the heel of a hand against his eyes, giving one final little sniffle.

then a pause as he processes the rest of what ned said. 'ask me when you're goddamned sober.' ]

Ah! Then -- then there's -- something? You won't be mad at me any more if I ask later and -- and do what you say?

[ soysauce seems to latch onto that possibility, his gaze fiercely focused on ned as he looks up. even with the alcohol slurring the edges of his words, he sounds determined -- enthusiastic, even! -- as he continues a stumbling attempt at verbalizing his thoughts. ]

Because I'll do it! I don' -- I'd like you not to be angry at me any more, sir!

[Hmph. Whatever, don't make a mess either, then. He'd stop and elaborate on that point but he's too busy trying to walk his bike away without continuing any sort of conversation whatsoever, not even a goodbye. One leg is swung over his seat and one arm planted on the handlebar - if he were the type to be clawing down his own face he'd be doing it. Instead he's scrubbing, heel of his palm against his eye.

It's like trying to avoid a bum on the street, that same maybe if I don't make eye contact he'll leave me alone kind of shit. And of course (huff, hand slapped down from his eye to the opposite handlebar) it doesn't work. Soy's voice perks up so he looks over with the exact same scathing, fuck no look he'd give a beggar wanting change.]

Didn't say shit about bein' nice later, but you're pissin' me off right now. More than ya already were. How -

[H U F F.]

I'm gonna get back to work.

[And that's it he bikes off before he throttles the sniffling idiot.]

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so let's raise the bar

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aha

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