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

[nutsaboutscans]

[He holds onto her tightly.] I'm so sorry. Please. Please don't cry. It wasn't her.

[He pulls them closer together, trying to speak without getting emotional.] I... know you. I know parts of you, at least. And I don't care what either of you say, I'm here. I'm not quite a friend or a lover or an enemy, but I'm here. You're not going to be alone. Okay? I'm not going to let you.

[After all the bullshit and manipulation and tragedy they've been through, he cares for her. Maybe as a friend, maybe more, maybe he's still confused and frustrated and wary of her, but he cares for her.]

[treasonista]

[ At any other moment, there would be a smirk of triumph from Odessa. This would signify a victory somehow. She would have had him under her spell. But this is completely different. In this moment, Odessa is so vulnerable, laid so bare that his words sting on her raw nerves. ]

But why? Don't I deserve to be alone?

[nutsaboutscans]

No, [he says immediately.] No, you don't. Not from what I've seen. You're-...

[He stops. What is she? A good guy? A bad guy?]

You're not black and white. You're gray.

[Such a lovely color comparison.] I mean-... you've got moments that make me want to punch you and moments where I want to... I don't know, hug you. But you deserve not to be lonely, Odessa. I'm sure.

[treasonista]

[ Confusion floods her overwhelmingly, but at least it causes her to switch gears and jolt her brain out of dwelling on this loss that wasn't real in the first place. It's calming, but infuriating all at once. ]

And I don't know sometimes whether I want to kiss you or kill you, [ she's probably not wholly serious ] so I guess that makes us even, huh?

[nutsaboutscans]

[He pulls away, his cheeks getting warm. He knows she's not serious, at least about the killing, but the kissing... He wants to, her face is so close, but it's not fair, not fair to Odessa or Sally. He looks at the floor.] I guess it does.

[He glances back up at her.] Will you let me take care of that wound now?

[treasonista]

[ She laughs then, a breathy sound and the breath she inhales through her nose is wetter. She's a mess and it's a fucking embarrassment. ]

Sure. Why not? It's not like you can make it worse.

[nutsaboutscans]

[He stands up and offers a hand to help her up. He looks down as they walk, silent. He opens his door and lets her in.] Make yourself comfortable.

[She's seen his room before, and it's much the same. There's a robotic leg in one corner, odds and ends, scraps of paper, and little origami figures spread out on the table. Otherwise, it's unusually clean and neat for a bachelor. He goes to a bowl of water and dips a towel in it. First, he starts with her face. He rubs gently at the blood on her chin before moving to her cheek, the trail his fingers made.

He hesitates at her lip. His eyes glance up at hers. It seems so intimate, what he's doing now, that it bothers him. He clears his throat and hesitates with his fingers ready to lift her shirt to see her wound.] May I?

[treasonista]

[ She looks smaller and more fragile than he's ever seen her before as she sits there obediently and allows him to wash the blood from her face, eyes half lidded to stare into some middle distance past the length of her nose, rather than at him. He might get the impression that she's been through this before more than once.

When he hesitates, that's when she tips her chin up and her head back to give him a better angle in the room's lighting. ] Go ahead. [ She parts her lips slightly. ]