oh the weight it must be light wherever you are.

[amethysts]

CHARACTERS: Libby and YOU (OTA)
LOCATION: Room 008 >> 189, floor 8 kitchens and living areas
WARNINGS: Substance abuse, cursing
SUMMARY: Libby is not taking certain losses well
NOTES: Bump into her any day whenever, profit from drunken honesty



Day One

Nikolai and Syg are gone.

Shrike checks on her people every day. She knows almost to the second when they've...just been gone. Like Kurt's Blaine. And she'll live, she tells herself. It'll be fine.

Nikolai was her one hope for opting out. Syg was her one girl friend. She is not going to be fine.

Shrike cuts out the blue in her hair and dumps all her piercings in the trash. That's when she starts drinking in her room. This isn't fair. This isn't--this isn't fair, she's losing everyone, and she doesn't know what to do.

Day Two

She wakes up shaking and sick with Nikolai's remaining cigarettes by her bed. She doesn't remember taking them. On the way to the kitchen to get more alcohol she tries lighting one up--

She pukes into her cupped hands, then the kitchen sink. She could clean up, sure. But she doesn't. Instead she curls up on a couch with a bottle of nearly vodka and teaches herself to smoke. She throws up three times and doesn't care. Somebody else can deal with it.

Day Three

They fucking abandoned her.

This is what she has to tell herself to get angry, lying on a table in the common room and wishing anyone else was gone. They left her and she doesn't give a fuck about them. Whatev, right? Nikolai was an asshole and Syg was stupid and she doesn't care except oh, fuck, she cares so much. She cares all the time and it's fucking horrible.

She needs to cut them out as efficiently as her blue streak, but she's keeping that in a box too. Sentimental. The colour of her hair and the colour of her heart were blue, blue, blue, and she misses them all--

That's what gets her going. She's given people prison tattoos before. She knows what she's doing. So after some more alcohol to ease the pain she traces two things: a reaper over her heart and spikes on her right wrist. Then she starts filling them in with ink she makes in her little lab in Engineering, biting down on a rag. So there she sits, naked from the waist up except for her bra, because she cares too much. Her heart is too big and it's choking her and she hates it, dully.

(She knows she'll lose everything, eventually.)

Comments

[amethysts]

There is no way in which she minds the wide berth. It's comforting. She may be able to get pretty close to Miles and Jesse now, sit next to Loki quietly, but Heine screams danger signals she can't miss. She doesn't want to get close; she's glad Nill has a protector (her Nikolai, and that's fucking painful) but she's not stupid enough to think that automatically extends to her or any other stupid kid. Nill is special. Nill is sweet and loved and she sort of hates that she can't have any of that. No one looks at her and sees anything good, not really. Just stupid and loud.

Maybe Nill's muteness is the trick. If she just severed her vocal chords people might love her too.

"Gee, thanks." She feels like shit, shaking and full of aches and her skin feels gritty and tight, but she laughs with an edge anyway--not unfriendly, exactly, but guarded and wary. "Hey, I gotta know. You dress her up like that? 'Cause she's cute, but a little...too cute, you get what I'm saying? Believe me, I fucking know."

She spits in the sink. "Whatev. As long as you're not fucking her at least somebody gets how fucking unsafe this fucked up place is for someone like her. Too fucking trusting."

[chaineddog]

To be completely honest, he had been hoping that when she had offered to clean up the sink that that would be the end of their conversation. Heine wasn't good at small talk. He forced it with Nill when he felt like he had been neglecting her or if he needed to convey something that silence and actions alone wouldn't do and then she was the only one on this ship that he didn't mind doing it for. Everyone else received short responses that they hopefully understood was all they were getting from him.

He had assumed that at least this girl would kind of be like that too. The not one for small talk that is. But alcohol was clearly playing a part tonight. Heine was already unsettled with her gender and the fact that she had clearly been paying enough attention to the fucking broadcasts to recognize him. Opening the fridge, he took a moment, ruffling around before grabbing some fruit.

"She hates being dressed up like that," he replied bluntly knowing that this couldn't be a jab to make him react. His nerves were still on edge but he was doing his best and at least he could give himself a pat on the back for not flipping out. But the part about him fucking Nill...even if she hadn't said he was, the idea made his stomach churn. He kicked the fridge door closed with a snort. "That why you're drinking?"

[amethysts]

"No, I'm drinking 'cause I'm a miserable fucking piece of shit who can't handle her fucking feelings, duh." She laughs dryly, because--she's not going to be defensive about this, it's just a fact. Everyone can tell she's fucked up; it's worse to try to hide it, she thinks, because then you're not just annoying and mouthy and offensive and horrible. You're pathetic, too. And maybe she is pathetic, but she'll be fucked if she lets people pity her for this.

Not that she thinks it'll be a problem with this guy.

She likes Nill, though. And she had half-guessed that, about the clothes, and he kicks open the door at her suggestion, and she just wants to do something, anything, to get out of her own stupid head for a while.

"I've got--" she spits in the sink as she sluices water into it, washing her sick away "--I got clothes. Back in my room. Like, real clothes, not jumpsuits or that pedo shit this fucking ship gave her. I could give them to you. I was gonna trade them, but--"

It's Nill. Everybody likes Nill, Libby included. You look at Nill and you can't help but want to wrap her up in a blanket and make everything better, and besides. She looks like Wren's sister.

"You know, whatev. Not like anybody on this stupid ship ever has shit I actually want anyway."

[chaineddog]

It was funny. A long time ago, Heine had used to wish that he could just drink his problems away or at the very least put himself out of his misery. And he had tried. Oh god, how he had tried. But his body hadn't let him. The dog wouldn't let him. Every single time he had tried to do something to himself he had been ripped back out of the darkness and back into the light. A part of him couldn't help but think that this girl standing in front of him was lucky. What she said sounded the same as what he had said in his mind though.

The offer to help Nill only colours him with a little surprise. He understands why people want to help her and it's more or less the same reasoning that is running through Libby's head right now. She looks like something people want to protect; either that or something they can take advantage of. And that's why he's so wary about the people around them still. Even though Nill has been here longer and even though there have been more than a handful of people to step up and say that they've been there to look after her, he's still wary.

This girl though...he doesn't care that she seems to think so little of herself because that's not his problem. He's curious as to why she's so willing to help Nill. Maybe it's because it's what he sees in Nill. Hope. Something better than the monster within himself.

"Why would you want to help her?"