thisavrou | text; + action options

Entry tags:

text; + action options

[The following is actually a series of three separate posts to the network; all three are posted in fairly quick succession, likely before anyone can reply to the first two, though they are open to comments.]

how do you make it so not everyone can read one of these things

[like thirty seconds later]

oh

[a couple of minutes later LOCKED FROM CERTAIN PEOPLE NAMED ELENA FISHER]

so a bunch of people use this system to pour their hearts out and get other people to do the same which usually seems weird to me. i mean just because you say it over the mid doesn't mean you won't run into people later and make it really weird and awkward. i don't know maybe that's just me.

except what the hell i'm pretty drunk right now so why the fuck not!

RIDDLE ME THIS, CREWMATES. pretend for a minute that you're a complete asshole who somehow got the most amazing woman in the world to marry you, fucked it up real fast like dropped a grenade on it bad BECAUSE you're a complete asshole, got her to take you back and start over and then fucked it up again.

what do you do? asking for a friend.

also the first person to make a suggestion that actually works can have some of my alcohol stash. everyone else can fuck off i'm not sharing.

[action options - feel free to go from a network thread to one of these]

[OPTION 1: DRUNK. Nate is pretty toasted as he wanders around the ship, but not so much than he has trouble getting around with just an occasional stumble. Alcohol tends to loosen his lips, so he'll gladly (well, not he's not real glad about anything right now) talk to anyone who makes the poor life decision to talk to him first.

[OPTION 2: DRUNKER. Jeez, he's getting to be a real mess now. Nate makes a trip to where the Mess Hall used to be so he can pour one out in honor of the lost bar. What a hideous waste of alcohol. Afterward, he visits the observation deck to drunkenly look at the stars, and will stay there.

[OPTION 3: DRUNKEST. Oh god he's so unhappy. Look at this complete wreck of a man who's making the observation deck a pretty unpleasant place to be. He is completely wasted. (Existing CR only for this option please—basically, if they've had at least one conversation, you're good.)]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's been hours since Nate started this bender, and he's been on the observation deck for at least half that time—partly because he likes it here and partly because, once he got drunk enough, it wasn't worth moving. By all rights, he should be passed out, a sodden pile someone might want to roll over to make sure he doesn't choke in his own vomit if it comes to that.

He's not. When she steps onto the deck, he's leaning against a wall, eyes closed but sitting technically upright. He could be mistaken for having fallen asleep, slipping into a drunken doze, but when her footsteps draw close enough, his eyelids drift open and he gives her a long, fuzzy look before they close again. And he sighs.]

[No tears fall and his eyes don't even got that trying-to-hold-back sparkly look, but damn does he sound like they should.]

Doesn't have to be. I gave her plenty of reasons to be done with me. Probably had this coming.

Hey there, Nate. I have zero suggestions for you because what do I know about marriage of all things.

But can I have some of your stash anyway?

[C'mon bro.]

[Wrong series installment, Hawke! But it's cool, he's from the wrong genre anyway.]

I don't know where Lowtown is but cold ale sounds awesome. You should have brought some cuz I've been here long enough that all of my stuff is warm.

[The first step to avoiding thinking about the long-term: not talking about thinking about the long-term.]

chloe! my favorite hell on wheels. i will totally save you a bottle but fair warning, not one of the small and/or big ones. mostly because those are gone already.

if i tell you what are you going to do

Call you an idiot to your face but I suspect you may have imagined that already

[ Yeeeeeeeeahhh...

Tony is uncharacteristically silent and contemplative for a long moment, before sliding a long metal rod out of his toolbelt - a now-permanent feature, given the status of the ship and its residents. While Nate is busy moping, he jabs him in the side with it.

It administers a harmless but thorough static shock, pointy-ness aside. ]

Lowtown is in Kirkwall back home and the Hanged Man is my favorite little haunt in the city. Smells like piss and there's always a fight but the ale is strong and cheap and the people are interesting. Which makes me nostalgic and charitable tonight. Give it here.

[She reaches over and presses a finger onto one of his bottles and the entire thing ices over.]

There. You'd fit right in at the Hanged Man.

[ Elena lingers more by the exit than anything, never taking her eyes off of him. Not even after his sigh carries and he closes his. On one hand she's glad to see he's responsive and awake, in a way only someone drunk enough can be. On the other hand, after what had happened, she's not entirely sure how to go about this now that she's up here and seeing the sad sight he makes sitting there.

A few moments pass before she makes a decision. ]

Nate... [ Crouching down next to him, her voice soft. Touching him right now might not be best, then again... ] What's going on with you...?

[ She just wants to understand; why had this entire downward spiral started with that journal showing up? ]

[What's he afraid of? Good fucking question. That he's going to lose her, mostly. That he already has and just doesn't know it yet.

It's barely even about the journal and the photo. They were the catalyst for the fight, sure, emotions he can't handle taking control. But things won't automatically get better if he tells his wife about his dead family. They were never really a secret, just something he pushed away and did his best not to think about. All the fight really did was make it clear that they haven't dealt with any of the underlying bullshit that's crippled their marriage. And that isn't nearly so easily dealt with as sharing his family history.]

It's just not that simple.

[He doesn't open his eyes when he hears her next to him, but his face turn toward her all the same. There's only been a relatively short period of time where he was ever capable of hiding her effect on him, and that ended about the time he washed up on the shore of Aden.

It's a long moment before he answers, almost like he's not going to at all.]

You should go. You don't...deserve to deal with this.

[She deserves better than a husband who resorts to this over handling his own emotions.]

[Nate's reaction is drastic and immediate. He jolts upright, arms flailing, and nearly keels over before he balances himself and gives Tony a terribly betrayed look.]

Ow! What was that for?

Look... [ Here is where Elena pushes out a heavy exhale through her nose, knees folding to sit on them. She rests her hands on her lap, one flesh and blood while the other is glassed. ] Whether you like it or not, we're still married.

It isn't that I shouldn't have to deal with this— I choose to. Because some small part of me thinks that if our roles were switched, you would do the same for me.

Doesn't matter how much of a dumb heel I've been— or you've been. Whatever.

[ They take care of each other. Through thick and thin. ]

Edited 2016-07-12 03:58 (UTC)

[Whether he likes it or not. His face crumples a little at that, all ability to conceal his reactions gone several bottles ago. What he does and doesn't like hardly seems relevant, but of course he still wants that.

Of course he would do the same. But she'd never ask him to.

He's quiet for another long moment before he opens his eyes and looks at her. They stay open this time.]

Okay.

[ If they weren't walking on such a precarious ground right now, the sight of his face almost fully crumpling would have her reaching out to hug him. Instead Elena keeps her hands to herself and keeps her eye on him, waiting for him to open his.

When he does, her chest is squeezed by sadness alone just at how sad he looks. ]

Hi... [ Softly said, after a moment of letting her own silence drift on between them, and then she looks past him to the bottles. ] Are you...at least drinking anything good...?

[She doesn't look angry, or like she hates him now. There's that, at least.]

Hmm?

[His gaze drifts over to the bottles. Not all of them are empty.]

Dunno. Taste stopped being a thing a while ago.

[ She grimaces at that. How does one drink so much to the point that it all starts meshing together?

Leaning over him, she reaches for one of the half full bottles, bringing it up to sniff. Her nose wrinkles, her lips twist. God, that's disgusting.

Elena glances at the label and sits back on her knees again, thinking that hey— it can't hurt. So she takes a swig. And immediately regrets it, coughing. ]

Jesus— that's terrible. Why would you drink this?

[ Is this Alien Beer? God. ]

[He hadn't thought it was that bad, but then she's the one with the fresh taste buds. Nate could complain about her just taking his beer without a by-your-leave, but he doesn't care anymore and anyway what's his is hers.]

To get and stay drunk.

[Having achieved that makes him blunter, but she'd deserve an honest answer even if he were capable of dissembling. Plus it's obvious, really.]

Clearly. And it worked. By the smell of it.

[ The bottle gets set aside, out of the way. ]

Do you think you can walk?

[He shrugs, not looking too concerned about whether he can or not.]

Maybe?

You do know why I'm here, don't you?

[ Elena's really hoping he cooperates. Really hoping. But she extends a hand after a moment of hesitation, touching his wrist. ]

[He shrugs again. But only with one shoulder this time.]

To drag my ass back to the barracks so I don't end up facedown in a puddle, I figured.

Right as always. And...you'll catch a cold up here if you pass out now.

[ Her hand pats at his wrist before she begins to rise back up to her feet. ]

You're terrible when you're sick. Whiny. C'mon— up.

[ That is if he can manage it. ]

Am not.

[He so is.

Nate tries to stand on his own, but "staggers" doesn't cover it. The while floor goes wobbly and he ends up back on his ass, looking up at her a little helplessly.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 10 of 23

text; + action options

action;

no subject

text

no subject

text

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

action;

no subject

action;

no subject

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;