wιcнιтa, ĸanѕaѕ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cons) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2012-08-21 05:03 am
cons) wrote in ataraxionlogs2012-08-21 05:03 am
i remember when we were gambling to win ( closed )
CHARACTERS: Wichita & Team Jailbait ( party crashing rights to moriarty/sebastian/neal/holmes/blake )
LOCATION: Justin and Brian's space bar.
WARNINGS: ..underage drinking, maybe. oops. talk of character death and the other messed up, hellish things that happen on the ship.
SUMMARY: Wichita's dealing with things the best way she knows how - drinking, and making people drink with her.
NOTES: tag in at your own pace. we can do multiple threads, threadjack, whatever. have at it. :D
[ it's been a week. just about. a whole week since Sherlock Holmes was found dead in a pool and Wichita still feels like absolute shit about it. what's that about? it's one thing, you know, when somebody's on the ship one minute then gone just a few months later, disappearing or never coming back after a jump, but. but Sherlock- it was permanent, wasn't it? and very real. and when someone gets lost on the ship, there's always that chance they'll come back. they'll be exhausted and confused, but they come back. Sherlock wouldn't, not the same as before at least, and it was weighing her down a lot more than she thought it would. then again, she felt this way when they found the painter dead too, and she hardly knew him, hardly.
the fact that she cares is weird. really weird, considering she was literally surrounded by death back in her home world, before she got here, and it was easy to let it all slide over her like driving past roadkill on the road to Pacific Playland.
things change though, right? that's the phrase? things change, people change. she didn't like to think about the changes she's been through since she got on this freaking spaceship, because they all make her feel a lot weaker than she was at home. weaker, vulnerable. someone's dead and she's sad about it, still. a week later.
so she's doing what she always does, albiet a few days too late - she's going to get drunk. properly trashed, because it's easier than dealing with being sad over someone being dead. and maybe that's unhealthy, and stupid, and dangerous when any step she takes on this damn boat could be her last, but she doesn't care. like, at all. which is kind of just as scary as being sad over somebody being dead. so she'll put on a brave face. brave, or sarcastic, uncaring. whatever. she'll put on a face and pretend she's getting drunk just to throw a wrench in the monotony of living here, convince people to join her because that makes it easier to distract herself.
ugh, whatever. where'd that bottle go? and where are her friends.
( f r i e n d s. that's a weird one to think out-loud. let's maybe never use that word again. ) ]
LOCATION: Justin and Brian's space bar.
WARNINGS: ..underage drinking, maybe. oops. talk of character death and the other messed up, hellish things that happen on the ship.
SUMMARY: Wichita's dealing with things the best way she knows how - drinking, and making people drink with her.
NOTES: tag in at your own pace. we can do multiple threads, threadjack, whatever. have at it. :D
[ it's been a week. just about. a whole week since Sherlock Holmes was found dead in a pool and Wichita still feels like absolute shit about it. what's that about? it's one thing, you know, when somebody's on the ship one minute then gone just a few months later, disappearing or never coming back after a jump, but. but Sherlock- it was permanent, wasn't it? and very real. and when someone gets lost on the ship, there's always that chance they'll come back. they'll be exhausted and confused, but they come back. Sherlock wouldn't, not the same as before at least, and it was weighing her down a lot more than she thought it would. then again, she felt this way when they found the painter dead too, and she hardly knew him, hardly.
the fact that she cares is weird. really weird, considering she was literally surrounded by death back in her home world, before she got here, and it was easy to let it all slide over her like driving past roadkill on the road to Pacific Playland.
things change though, right? that's the phrase? things change, people change. she didn't like to think about the changes she's been through since she got on this freaking spaceship, because they all make her feel a lot weaker than she was at home. weaker, vulnerable. someone's dead and she's sad about it, still. a week later.
so she's doing what she always does, albiet a few days too late - she's going to get drunk. properly trashed, because it's easier than dealing with being sad over someone being dead. and maybe that's unhealthy, and stupid, and dangerous when any step she takes on this damn boat could be her last, but she doesn't care. like, at all. which is kind of just as scary as being sad over somebody being dead. so she'll put on a brave face. brave, or sarcastic, uncaring. whatever. she'll put on a face and pretend she's getting drunk just to throw a wrench in the monotony of living here, convince people to join her because that makes it easier to distract herself.
ugh, whatever. where'd that bottle go? and where are her friends.
( f r i e n d s. that's a weird one to think out-loud. let's maybe never use that word again. ) ]
where???
The name rings a bell, though, and he thinks for a moment as he shakes her hand.]
Wichita. Gunnery team, right? We spoke on the network. I'm John Blake. [The likelihood she'll remember this conversation is slim, but what can you do?]
Just making sure there aren't any fights I need to break up. And everybody can get back to their quarters safely.
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Oh! Right, sure. Yeah, you are... a cop. And this probably looks really awful.
[ is she supposed to be acting normal and confident right now? cause she's not. she's actually looking pretty sheepish. ]
Listen though, half of them aren't even drinkingdrinking. It's mostly tonic water and cola floating around. And the ones with booze, well. [ neckscratch ] I dunno. I've been here way too long, and some of them have been too, and I guess I just... wanted to make sure they were doing okay. Checking up on them just kinda turned into a party.
no subject
As far as I know, there isn't a drinking age specified for space, so you're probably okay. I mean, you know. I'd be worried if there were little kids here.
[You're not getting arrested, okay?]
Like I said, I'm just making sure everyone's okay. If anyone needs help getting back to their cabins, I can do that. We don't need anyone getting lost because they don't remember the way back, or because a corridor changed and they get disoriented.
no subject
so instead she just smiles, watches the way the corners of his mouth twitch and wonders if his smile looks like Brendan's too. -- oh god that's so creepy!! ]
That's sweet. I mean, that's responsible, and coply of you. Coply? Cop-like. Luckily all of our room numbers are tattooed on our arms, too. Anyway... [ HAH?! what is she even talking about anymore ] Want a drink? You should have a drink. Let's get you a drink. [ AND FIND BRENDAN SO SHE CAN MAKE FUN OF HIM ABOUT THIS ]
no subject
Still, though, c'mon. Take him to Brendan all you want, but -] I don't drink on duty, but thanks for the offer.
no subject
You can't be on duty, you're in space.
no subject
Allow me to apologize for the absurdly rude peanut gallery that's decided to join us. [ SIDE-EYING YOU, MR FRYE, SIDE EYE] Brendan, this is John, John, Brendan. Though I'm guessing you might already know each other because you look exactly the same. [ ... why did she just ] I mean. And because it's a small ship. [ no it's not ] Seems kinda small, though. [ ... ] When you think about it.
no subject
[God, he is really in a room full of very drunk young people. He resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, because just wow.]
I'm on patrol duty, for the security team. So yeah, there is still duty in space.
no subject
See? He's smart. Even if his words are a little snappish. ]
Why don't you head back to patrolling, then?
no subject
[ OH. she'll just be asking Brendan later why he failed to mention this cop looked just like him. but for now she's trying to handle damage control, without seeming like she's trying to handle damage control. it will likely fail. ]
He didn't mean that. [ she moves so she's standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Brendan, well, more like forehead-to-shoulder because he's got a few inches on her, but whatever, details. ] You didn't mean that, right?
--Right, you should stay. I would actually love to hear more about Gotham.
no subject
[Anyway, Wichita is at least being a little bit friendlier. Not that he wants to get friendly with her, but whatever.] There's not much to hear. It's a big city, with lots of people. If you've ever been to a big city before, you probably know what it's like.
no subject
Pretty sure we've got all corners covered, buzzer.
no subject
Well nevermind, Buzzkill Bob and Donnie Downer, if you two are gonna just be party poopers, I'm gonna need a refill.
no subject
He looks between the two of them, and nods a little.] I'll be nearby in case there's any trouble, okay? [Mostly he just means: try not to beat each other up, or let anyone get alcohol poisoning.]