PLAYER PLOT: fear is the mind-killer

[fullmoon]

CHARACTERS: You and all your least favorite things.
LOCATION: Shipwide.
WARNINGS: Violence, gore, monsters, psych trauma. (Please warn for any potential triggers—e.g. medical horror, eye stuff, recollection of past sexual trauma—in your subject lines.)
SUMMARY: Boggarts. See the plot post for a full timeline if you want to forward-date; otherwise, watch this space for updates.
NOTES: Whatever happens, however this ends, remember that it's Draco Malfoy's fault.

JAN 22

If you've been paying attention, you should already be on edge. Ward and Resnik have returned without many answers. There's the dead pirate again. The Tranquility is being pursued. People are talking about violent confrontation like it's inevitable, any cycle now. Any day. And now Morgoth is back, somewhere in the corridors.

If you keep an eye out, you won't find him. But you might find something else.

JAN 23

Never mind about Morgoth.

JAN 24

Despite very well-intended claims to the contrary (see above), the mounting evidence suggests that boggarts can be killed. Also, there's probably more than one. Sorry about that.

Comments

John Kennex | open | cw blood

[nutsaboutscans]

» Open to medical peeps

[It's been a little while, but he's holding a towel to his right bicep, the towel dripping some blood.

After the horrors of the halls, he's a little dazed by the med bay, standing in the doorway with his lovely blood-dripping towel. He hasn't called anyone yet, his eyes scanning the clean med bay. He recognizes a few faces, but all he can do is keep imagining hers. A person pushes past him and walks further into the med bay, and John decides he's in the way. He wanders a few steps in before stopping again, wondering where to go.] Hello?

[he says, trying to catch someone's eye that could help.]

» Open to anyone!

[He's got his arm bandaged up, but he seems to have gotten distracted, his fingers feeling the robotic leg through his jeans. She gave him this. She took away so much. But, of course, that wasn't her. He had to remember that.

Of course, this probably just looks like a fellow feeling up his own leg to... probably about anyone who hasn't seen his robotic leg. Oops awkward.]

[romancekiller]

[technically clarke doesn't exactly work in the medbay in any official capacity though it's even been suggested to her already. she has the skills and capability to join but ever since her arrival she's been too wary of everything to give it a chance. joining a department was the next step to settling in, getting too comfortable with a place that kidnapped them from their homes which made her a bit hesitant.

however, that didn't mean she was one to refuse helping someone who was hurt either. she had wandered into the medbay almost subconsciously, maybe as a distraction from what was going on and if people were hurt she was definitely capable of helping out at least. it's not long before she spots someone entering, stopping just near the entrance and from the looks of it he seemed like he was in pretty terrible shape. it was mostly out of habit she heads over to see if there's anything she can do and he moment she speaks up there is definite concern in her voice as she gives him a once over looking at his injuries] That definitely doesn't look good— did that happen in the halls?

[nutsaboutscans]

[He's glad when he catches someone's attention. He hesitates to speak, though, wondering if a teenager can handle this. Although, Jasper and Raven have been through a lot of shit and they're both quite capable of handling tough things. So he nods, glancing down at his injury.] Yes, she- whatever that was... it had a knife.

[He moves the towel a few inches away so she can see the knife wound. It's long - 3 or 4 inches long - but not very deep.] I didn't know what to do for such a big wound. It's been bleeding for a while.

[romancekiller]

[clarke looks at his wound a bit more closely when he moves the towel a bit and with nod she gestures over to where a clean bed is so she tends to his injury] Well you came to the right place— luckily it doesn't seem too deep so it should be easy enough to slow the bleeding and get that cleaned and bandaged up for you.

[nutsaboutscans]

Good. [He lets out a relieved sigh and follows her gesture to the bed, sitting down on it.] I was going to say that you're kind of young to be a doctor, but Raven and Jasper are heads of departments, so I guess anything's possible.

[romancekiller]

[clarke starts to grab the few supplies she needs to treat him while he sits down. she is not really that surprised by his comment about being young but it's the mention of raven and jasper that make her look over her shoulder towards him] You know Raven and Jasper? They're both friends of mine from home.

[nutsaboutscans]

They are? [He smiles fondly.] Yeah... yeah, I met them when they threatened me with a knife. If you're friends with them, you must be a pretty tough kid. If you deal with the... Grounders and the... Ark.

[It's been a while since they talked about their situation, so the words don't come easily off his tongue.]

[romancekiller]

[clarke is quick to nod at that, as she fully turns around to take hold of his arm so she can treat the wound, first trying to slow the bleeding so she can clean it up and bandage it for him] With a knife? How did that happen?

[there is a slight curiosity as she inquires how he met her friends. though the additional mention he makes about the grounders and the ark in relation to being tough, well it just causes her to shrug in response. it's easy enough to guess that he'd heard about their life at earth from those two since he knew them, given it's not something she talks about much herself especially to strangers] We're just doing what we need to do survive.

[blackmagus]

[After her own encounter with a pack of pretenders, Fortescue tries to carry on as if she doesn't need a touch of medical attention. Mostly she just needs to properly clean the substantial bruises on her side and hip, and she's come to medical to see if there's anything a bit stronger than the showers.

Spotting John, she gives a sympathetic grimace.]

Hello, love. Are you all right?

[In a general sense. He looks a bit shaken up.]

[nutsaboutscans]

[He looks up, startled by her approach, but gives her a tired smile.] I'm fine. Just a scratch.

[He touches his bandaged arm lightly.] You?

[blackmagus]

[Fortescue nods. At least he can still smile. Her own smile feels rather wooden right now, and unreliable.]

Nothing a few nights of sleep won't cure. [While lying on her stomach or other side, because ow.] I'm sorry they were just as discourteous to you... whatever they are.

[nutsaboutscans]

Yeah. [He swallows, trying not to think about it.] I'm glad you're okay, though. Kind of scary out there.

[blackmagus]

[She can only agree. Until things calm down, she's sticking mostly to her room. ...again. What a terrible case of deja vu.]

And you. It is only a scratch, right?

[She worries.]

[nutsaboutscans]

[He smiles reassuringly.] It's really just a small wound, not that deep.

Yours? What happened?

[blackmagus]

Glad to hear it.

[Fortescue considers what had happened. It had all happened very quickly and maybe that's why she's finding it so hard to put it behind her. It still feels like it could be happening. More Criers, sneaking up on her.

No. Not Criers. Whatever they are, it isn't those bloody bugs.]

A few of the... things surrounded me. They looked like animals I had to deal with during the war, brought over from another world. Criers. Or Shovelheads, as the soldiers liked to call them. Big bugs.

[nutsaboutscans]

Big bugs? [He makes a disgusted face.]

That sounds traumatizing. You okay?

[blackmagus]

It wasn't pleasant, but I'm all right.

[Well, she will be all right. Once she gets access to a drink, can properly clean her bruises, and can maybe curl up in a ball inside her room for a while. It's not the Criers that are the horrible part. It's the sounds they make. In Fortescue's case, the high-pitched distressed screams of her little sister.]

They're as tall as a person. Hopefully we don't have any real Criers on board. I don't think I'm ready for that.

the anyone option

[excoria]

I do not trust them either, the doctors, [says the voice over his shoulder, heavily accented. A ragged sail of blonde hair swings into view from the side, and Helena's face is white as a moon in the middle of it. She has a bandage around one of her hands, gaze fat on her palm, and there's a slight limp to her gait-- but she doesn't seem to be much bothered.] But this is especially big mistake.

They put the wrappings on wrong limb. [She sits down on a nearby seat, with a knowledgeable air. Juts her chin at the man's leg.]

[nutsaboutscans]

Huh? [He looks up, surprised by her sudden appearance, before he understands what she means.] Oh... no, my leg's not hurt.

[He dislikes showing his leg, but he doesn't know how else to explain it, so he lifts his pant leg so she can see the prosthetic leg underneath.] I was just thinking.

[excoria]

[The prosthetic leg turns out to be a great deal more interesting than what John says aloud, at least for the initial moment. Helena stares at it with a very specific intensity. Leans forward slightly, her injured hand coming to rest on her own knee, as if it was thinking about making a move to grasp something else before stifling the urge in knowledge that that's not actually an option right now.

At least it's not a pig's tail.]

Why do you have this? [she asks, very bluntly, abruptly lifting her eyes. She does not have very good manners.]

[nutsaboutscans]

[He watches curiously, interested in this woman. The blunt question has him raising an eyebrow, but he answers... with skimpy details.] I'm a cop. We were raiding a place. A bomb... destroyed my leg.

[excoria]

You seem like cop, [Helena decides, after a moment spent considering this information.] In this lawless place. Wet and small like driftwood in the sea. [She doesn't exactly look sympathetic, but there is an element of clear understanding to the way that she considers John and his leg and his bomb story.]

But floating, [sounds nearly like a compliment. Then she points at his bandaged arm, willing him to stop with the vast irrelevance of his leg for the meantime-- which is probably also good advice on a deeper more existential level.] What did your boggart do?

[nutsaboutscans]

[He's not sure if that's a compliment or not, not even sure what the driftwood comment means but it sounds profound, and for some reason, the floating comment makes him feel good.

He glances at his arm when she points.] Oh. It cut me with a knife. Ex-girlfriends with knives are scary.

[It almost sounds like a joke, but there's a small ring of truth in it. This ex-girlfriend with a knife is scary. Because she's absolutely brutal and wants to see him dead.]

[excoria]

[Helena looks a little surprised. She twists her head to the side, the corners of her lips twisting up. Not exactly at his expense, but man. Even her brain has absorbed the fact that boggarts mean 'worst fears,' and ex-girlfriend sounds a little romcom for a Tranquility passenger interpretation of that phrase.] After bomb, [she says,] after catching the murderers.

After all the shoot-outs, and the post-traumatic stress disorders, [she hunches her shoulders and swings her feet.] Your ex-girlfriend is the most frightening?

[nutsaboutscans]

[His head snaps back over in her direction at 'post-traumatic stress disorders', looking at her eyes to see if she's serious. How does she know about the ptsd? Is she talking about him, or the victims he's helped? He's sensitive about his mental health, and the only one who's seen him having flashbacks is Odessa.

It's also... difficult to talk about this. He's only really talked about this to his girlfriend, but... he doesn't see the harm in details here and there.] She tricked me. She took everything from me. I guess I'm afraid to lose everything again.