ataraxionlogs | letting the days go by, into silent water [open]

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letting the days go by, into silent water [open]

CHARACTERS: Murphy Pendleton and you.
LOCATION: Anywhere. This is pretty much a free-for-all of CR.
WARNINGS: Insert the usual Silent Hill disclaimer here.
SUMMARY: Insomnia hits. Friendly neighborhood convict takes a little stroll.

He couldn't sleep.

Granted, this was nothing new and exciting. If nothing else, it was fucking tedious. His brief spell of excessive sleeping habits died real fast after the jump wired Murphy up all over again.

It wasn't always this bad. In fact, he used to sleep a fair bit. There wasn't much else to do during his alone time in prison, so it had been the only resort next to going stir-crazy with boredom.

Even with Anne in the same room these days, Murphy still felt the nagging urge to escape the closing walls of his ~~cell~~ bedroom. Unlike Ryall, he could at least work off his restlessness by stretching his legs. There were still places that he hadn't yet seen, grounds that he hadn't yet covered. He could scratch this itch. He could.

So he just wandered for awhile. Aimlessly, as usual. He almost felt dazed. But it was good to be out. Not free, not safe, though close enough to settle on the fact that his present situation proved to be more favorable than where he had been coming from, in ways.

That was just sad.

Murphy, this is your life right now. Take a good long look at it.

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When Murphy lifted his head, his eyes darted strictly towards Cibo's face. God, he was horrible when it came to eye contact, but as far as he could tell, she at least wore a top. Big jacket. Better than casting inadvertent glances at the woman's underwear.

"Ah, um..." Words, Murphy Pendleton. Would sure be nice if you could figure out the art in how to use them. "I... I guess. I'm, er, I've... got nothin' else to do, so... Yeah. Sure."

Way to feel like a stammering teenager trying to ask a girl out. That wasn't even the fucking case here, and he still felt like a stupid kid during these situations.

As if the jumps hadn't been bad enough...

Just keep walking, Murphy. It was a lot easier to find ways to distract himself as long as he found something to train his attention on.

Like her hair, maybe. Yeah. Interesting... hair.

With his approval, she began walking down the hall again for the locker room. Her bare feet gave off soft taps on the slick floors. At times, the temperature of the floor would send another shiver through her legs.

The man seemed relatively normal, if not a little nervous. He had a face that reminded her of her own reality - weathered and capable. Based on her brief observation of his build, what she could see of his hands, and the way he carried himself, she concluded that he would do well surviving in her world.

As uncomfortable as the thought was of him being hunted and severely wounded by the predators of The City was, it eased her knowing that he may survive in close situations without much assistance. It reminded her of traveling with the partner. Killy was durable in mind and body, and carried a powerful weapon.

Wow, her mind was wandering all of sudden. How rude of her. Hurry, think of something, Cibo.

As she turned to look to him, her hair moved from her exposed shoulder, "I'm Cibo. What is your name?"

Murphy had yet to master, or even acquire, the art of conjuring. Even if he could pull off such a feat, there wasn't really wasn't much that he could do for this woman here, and her current state of dress... or lack thereof. Not that he was looking or anything, because he absolutely wasn't, because that would have been rude, but she looked like she had more legs than he did, anyway.

In that, even if he offered her a pair, they probably wouldn't fit, anyway.

Relevance. Yes.

"Uh..."

When people ask you for your name, you're usually supposed to tell them.

Murphy sighed and pinched the brim of his nose, before he turned his head towards the ceiling. The ceiling was less distracting to look at. "Murphy Pendleton." He paused. "Sorry. I wasn't..." He wasn't trying to stare, or anything like that.

Oh, buddy. Are you okay?

She watched him as he looked to the ceiling. It seemed to her that he was getting progressively more agitated the longer they walked together. They were almost there though. The lift was just ahead of them to take them to the lockers. It wasn't until they were on the lift and moving that she spoke again.

"You weren't what?" Not in a scrutinizing tone, but a curious one.

She couldn't understand why he tried so desperately to avoid looking at her.

Edited 2012-08-14 22:27 (UTC)

No.

...Yes.

Contrary to what he believed, Murphy wasn't actually going to just fall over from a cerebral hemorrhage right then and there. That would have been silly. And it wasn't like this kind of thing was new to him -- but even in the showers, Murphy made an effort to avoid actually looking at any of the ones he shared the public space with. So this was a little different.

"Nothin'. Well, what I mean is..." What did he mean? There was the rub. "Let's... Just get some pants. For you. So it's not... cold. That's what I... uh-huh."

That wasn't exactly the response she was expecting, but she took it. It was apparent that her legs were a bother to him - though she didn't know why. They exited the lift and Cibo made way to her locker.

It seemed very strange to be here for the second time at such a strange hour. The ambiance of shuffling through lockers and making small talk was absent. Cibo wasn't that bothered by it. In fact, it was almost soothing that she didn't have so many distractions.

There they were. She pulled the pants from the locker and slipped them on, then took the shirt that was provided out as well. A short glance to Murphy made her decide to stay facing the locker as she proceeded to remove her jacket.

Though others have only seen glances and small peeks up until that point, ~~Pft, even Scout wasn't paying that much attention.~~ Murphy would have a half-way decent view to see the entirety of Cibo's scar down the back of her shoulder blade, if his eyes happened to wander in her direction.

The shirt twisted in her hands as she had removed the jacket, forcing her to pull it any which direction to straighten it out. Who knew a material could be so disobedient? Eventually she got the damn thing on and, finally, she was fully clothed.

"I'm done." Maybe now Murphy would be able to form more informative sentences.

It wasn't just the legs, but the overall exposure that did it for him. And it wasn't so much that Murphy minded it at all, it was...

Well, it was distracting. It reminded him that he was still awkward as ever when it came to being around people, somewhat normal people. And by that, they weren't liable to stab him or snap his neck if he looked at them wrong. He couldn't even handle the jumps without being overwhelmed by a need to get as far away from such a large number of others who were in that state. But Murphy was more inclined towards his flight instincts than his fight.

As Cibo began covering herself with extra layers, Murphy's attention couldn't help but dart towards her a couple of times. He hadn't spent much time paying notice to her physical appearance that much, since he'd spent most of that time simply avoiding her direction.

His attention shifted completely.

Murphy wasn't one to stare for very long in the first place, though that was one unmistakable little big detail when Cibo had been turned...

"That... That looked pretty bad." No shit. It wasn't like Murphy was one to talk about scars -- he had plenty of them, most of which weren't exposed. But hers was, and he may not have been very clear on that. "I mean, uh... your shoulder -- looked bad."

After pulling the shirt over her frame, she brought the jacket over as well. She didn't feel like carrying it back to her room and the warmth was comforting. The scare was now covered nicely like it didn't exists. Even by her movements, one could tell there wasn't any permanent damage. Miraculously.

Her attention is brought to Murphy as he began speaking understandable sentences. In all honesty, she hadn't even really seen it for herself. From the corner of her eye, yeah. But mirrors were rare in The City and she didn't think about it the last few days on board the Tranquility.

A quick glance to her clothed shoulder then a small nod his direction, "Yeah. It must have been a delicate procedure."

"Wait. Procedure...? You mean that was done surgically?"

Murphy was no expert on surgical scars, but it didn't look like the remains of your average fighting wound, either. He'd actually never seen anything that could have done something like that to a person's body before.

It was actually a little disconcerting.

Truthfully, she was out long before the surgery even took place. She thought it would be more helpful to him to at least explain the events before-hand.

"Yes, I assume so."

Now that she understood a little better, his nervous behavior around bare skin, she simply pulled her shirt over her head, keeping the front of her torso covered and turned to allow him to see the scar more clearly. Various shades and textures, darker smaller points where the creature must have burrowed, lighter ones must have been where her skin was pulled to access the thing.

"A creature attached itself and burrowed into my shoulder, fusing my nervous system. It completely immobilized the use of the right side of my body. Before long I blacked out. When I woke next, I was in a strange place and had control of my body again."

Murphy started to fall back a step when Cibo began pulling her shirt up, but stopped himself when he saw what she was actually doing.

It really wasn't anything to look into, and he wanted to beat himself over the head for reacting the way he did. Stop acting so socially inept and at least pretend to be a normal, functioning human being again.

That was easier said than done, much like most things.

He finally did pull himself together, though. Distracted by the mental image of what Cibo just told him, and his overly active imagination that came with it. Murphy knew a little about creatures.

"That's... pretty crazy." He rubbed the back of his neck, needing to make some kind of gesture rather than standing there like an idiot. "I guess, uh... I've run into monsters before. But none that's done anything like that."

Cibo replaced her shirt after another ~~long~~ minute, and turned to look to him afterward. She could recognize his motion as a sort of nervous tick or embarrassment. Perhaps she shouldn't had lifted her shirt and instead pulled the sleeve down.

The fact that he may have had similar beings in his world genuinely interested her.

"Have you? I assumed you came from a relatively basic reality."

"Depends on what you're idea of 'basic' is, I guess. I used to think it was, but now..." He shook his head.

Murphy knew that there were people on here who came from different worlds, different times. Shit, he just talked to a guy who said that he had magic in his world -- why should he even bother to be surprised anymore?

Because he wasn't surprised then. Or maybe he was just tired. Too sick after dealing with all the hell he literally went through in Silent Hill.

"I see." The look Murphy gave told Cibo a lot of what she needed to know.

She left him in his thoughts for only a moment, then spoke up, "We can talk about other things. Perhaps you would like to go somewhere else now?"

Now that she was properly dressed, it seemed like a better (and less awkward) time to agree.

"I guess. Didn't... really have any plans, anyway." Just clearing out his head somewhat. Which, incidentally, usually only seemed to just give him more things to think about.

...Like where the hell this woman was from that she had to pry a creature out of her back like that.

Oh well. He bit back on the inclination and started walking back out of the locker rooms.

"You don't sleep either?"

This was a small surprise to her; she hadn't met anyone in her late hours before. Cibo's body was trained and pumped with enough adrenaline to keep her awake for a week or more - depending on the situation. It would be nice knowing that someone would be awake for her to converse with in the future nights.

"No, I do." He shook his head, figuring that that might not be entirely what Cibo was asking. "I mean, it's more like insomnia, I guess. I used to sleep a lot. These days... not so much."

Even before his hellish jaunt through Silent Hill, Murphy's head was plagued by night terrors. It was hardly unusual to find himself ripped out of them with a start in the middle of the night, struggling for air and a sense of reality. But the screams of a man begging for his life and the dead faces still lingered on the back of his lids.

Murphy wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was finally starting to get a sense of that reality, slowly coming back while he walked these halls at odd hours.

Whatever insomnia was, she could see that it troubled him and that his body may have been suffered from it. It seemed common that most humans aboard the ship would need to sleep so many hours a night or else the wear on their bodies would begin to wear on their minds.

"Is there anything that I can do to help you with that?" Whether her skills in the sciences would be of any help to him, Cibo wasn't sure. It was worth a try, if he approved of it. She did once know how to form powerful sedatives for the monstrous creatures of her world.

Restlessness and neurosis had worn on Murphy before, if the occasional scrawls on the walls were any indicator. But given the size of the ship and the people aboard, the chances of anyone finding Murphy's graffiti was rather slim.

The silence carried after Cibo's offer. Couldn't say that he was really expecting anyone to extend help to him for something as trivial as this. Didn't think it was even that big of a deal.

"Thanks, I..." He meant it. Really. "I appreciate it, but I think it's better like this."

If this lack of sleep thing ever really got too bothersome, he was sure there would be something in the medbay to help remedy his problems. At least it hadn't gotten so bad that he was staying awake for days on end.

"Better how? Before long your body will begin to run on its reserves. Which will weaken you and leave you vulnerable to sicknesses, right?" Cibo really wasn't sure of the original functions of the human body but she knew too long without proper care of any form could only end poorly. This came from Miss Day-Five-And-Still-Going, but even she could feel her body beginning to tire as she neared her limit.

"Do you rest better with company?"

Murphy really hadn't considered it to that extent. But then, what were consequences? He just shrugged them off.

He sighed and shook his head, ignoring the implications of Cibo's inquiry that would be obvious to some, but left Murphy unawares.

It might not actually be until much later that it would actually hit him.

"Erm, I guess it helps. I mean, I... have a roommate?"

"Strange. I would think that having someone there would ease the mind."

She thought on this while they walked together. It seemed to her that they'd been walking for quite some time now. Where had they ended up? She couldn't recognize. Cibo began a route back toward her room, under the assumption that Murphy would continue to follow.

"Environment sometimes has something to do with it. Maybe you should stay in another room for a night to see if it helps you?"

"It... It does. I just... Shit, I dunno." It'd been a long time since he ever shared a room with anybody, and even at Ryall, he was used to not even having a cellmate. His need for company outweighed what he was more accustomed to.

Again, Cibo. Once again, with the odd questions. And even if there was any kind of hidden suggestion behind it (which there wasn't, of course), Murphy overlooked all of it for now. This woman didn't seem the type, anyway.

Not that Murphy was a decent judge of character...

"Hadn't really thought about that. Most of the rooms here look the same." He did keep walking, idly following her without having any real direction in mind as it were.

Sure, the rooms looked similar, but it would still a different room. Mind over matter, right?

"Maybe it's worth a try. Different company, different space. Might be more relaxing than you think." Cibo only threw ideas out at this point in attempt to casually probe Murphy's problem. It was possible that finding the solution to the 'insomnia' thing would prove useful in the future.

Before too long of a silence, Cibo stopped in front of a room - her room - and waited for Murphy's response with a sort of eagerness that gave her a smile.

Mind over matter. Right. That was a thing he had to practically master into an art form to keep himself from going insane sometimes.

It wasn't until they stopped and Cibo had turned to him with that look that Murphy stopped abruptly as well. Given a combination of implications that had been dropped throughout the conversation, even Murphy was starting to paint a pretty clear picture in his head that was--

Wait.

Wait a goddamn second.

"Erm..." I should go. "S-so..." Exit stage left. "You, uh..." Would now be a terrible time to jump to hideous conclusions? "Is this... yours?"

He just nodded to the room, and immediately felt like smacking himself in the fucking face.

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murphy you beautiful soul

i'm so sorry for his awkward, cibo...

no it's totally fine, murphy. she doesn't get it.

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