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» WHO? The Roci Crew and whoever else wants in on this mess
» WHEN? after the gravity is back
» WHERE? A few different places
» WHAT? A few different prompts as well as a catch-all for any roci crew or related logs for the month of june
» WARNINGS? these are all just terrible people what do you want from me

001: Alex, Bobbie and Amos are Judging You

The Martians and the Earther are sitting at a table in the Mess Hall, and they've started a game. That game? To rate everyone else on the ship in order of attractiveness. Want to be rated? Find the comment header below, drop a picture in of your character, and watch the comments fly. Feel free to overhear them and give them hell.

002: Closed, Alex >> Frank

Going on the morning walk-about to search for Holden was ritual, at this point, and Alex was very used to Frank coming over first thing before they headed out. So the door was already open, waiting for him. Alex was fishing through his drawers, trying to find where he'd stashed that singular glove that he'd found, to show him for a laugh. But instead his fingers found something else - a thin sheet of plastic, creased and bent a hundred thousand times, and Alex's heart nearly stopped.

He pulled it out of the drawer like it was made of plutonium, careful not to touch the edges of the drawer with it.

Christ. Oh, Christ.

003: Open, Alex >> Anyone who wants to find this wrecked man.

He goes straight to the bar.

It's not that he isn't a fairly regular fixture there, anyway, but especially right now, all he really wants is to drink until he numbs everything. So hi, have a depressed Martian with a bottle of who knows what, sitting at the bar and just staring at a picture of a woman and a child smiling lovingly at the camera. He keeps stroking his thumb over it, then looking wrecked and saying something like 'god damn it' under his breath before he pours himself another drink. One of his arms is still wrapped up in a sling against his chest.

If he recognizes you, he might look up when you get close, and sigh. "Hey, partner. Everythin' alright?" Because it's a lot easier to worry about other people, than to keep being miserable about yourself.

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Why do you think he'd do that?

[Bobbie just shrugs too.]

Ten it is.

[Bobbie hums softly as she considers that.]

Eight. Nine?

"Hey, you don't know that for sure."

Bobbie slides the bottle away from him gently. It's not doing anything to help.

"They could be just fine. After seeing what the protomolecule has done, you don't think there might be something else out there that could get us here without flying?"

[She nods.]

That gets him extra points.

He rubs over Alex's shoulder gently and nods, understanding the feeling all too well. As much as he doesn't believe in God anymore, he shoots off a tiny prayer for the Kamals anyway. He thinks about what it would be like having David here, not knowing if Sarah and the kids were safe. It makes him feel worse for looking for him every morning while he helps Alex look for Holden. It's something he hasn't admitted, but maybe it will help Alex somehow. Or at least distract him.

"I know, brother." And he does, maybe better than anyone else here. "I take these walks with you to look for Holden, yeah? But I've been looking for someone too. That guy I told you about - Micro." Frank swallows the sudden bile rising in his throat, even as he feels a weight off his shoulders for confessing.

"He invited me to Christmas dinner, which is already... I mean, he's Jewish, right, but his whole family is beautiful and they really wanted me there. Which is-- they shouldn't, you know? I mean, you've met me. But anyway, so I blow them off and I end up..." On a space station being besties with a Martian who took off his wedding ring and is having a panic attack right now. Frank heaves a sigh as his hand marks a path across Alex's shoulder blades to hold the other side of his head in a sort-of sideways man-hug. "They're okay, is my point. Leo, Zach, your son. Sarah and your beautiful wife. They're all safe." Frank has to believe that or there's no point in being here at all.

[ why are they pointing at him? frank slides into the seat next to bobbie and squints at alex, one big hand wrapped around his coffee cup as max makes the rounds, nudging his nose against their legs in greeting. ]

What's going on over here?

Mike nods, a slow bob of his head on a long inhale. For a long moment he says nothing.

"Things had gotten pretty ragged between us, me and my wife. Then the plague hit and Lucas got sick... That I was halfway across the world-- that there was nothing I could have done was not what she wanted to hear."

He stops, teeth clenching around the last of the words.

[It's high, but it's also Amos, so he isn't even jealous. ]

Eight generally, nine when he's workin'.

Yeah.

[ With a little smirk, Amos waves his protein bar in Bobbie's direction. ]

Don't worry, I'd let you step on me, too.

[ Shrug. ]

I don't know, don't care. But it's the vibe he gives me.

[ Alex is just gonna take a drink and not say a goddamned thing. ]

The dog is it's own damn category. [ He was saying as Frank came over, before offering the man a grin. ]

We were just talkin' bout how handsome your boy Max is.

He doesn't fight to keep the bottle. He's had too much already, and he can tell, it's just inertia that's keeping him going at this point.

"I don't know. I don't know a damn thing."

He let out a hard breath, then carefully picked up the picture, sliding it into his breast pocket, to sit alongside the ring that still lay there.

"Sorry, Gunny. You're right. Need to just - focus on what we're doin'. I just - I feel like maybe I got too comfortable, for a second, and then whoever it is that's doin' this to us just - went and shoved the knife in."

[ Huh. ]

Takes all kinds, I guess. Just didn't realise that was a thing.

[ Amos considers, for a while. ]

Hm. I'd say seven. She looks like she's used to being called a ten, though.

Apollo feels sick. It's the same kind of stomach turning, uncomfortable alarm that he'd felt when he'd found Midnigher's mask under his fucking pillow. They're being played, he knows it. And the idea that someone - or something - had been digging around in his bed and somehow managing to steal from those he loved most was a weird kind of violation in itself.

"This place just keeps finding more and more ways to fuck with our heads, doesn't it?" Apollo replies, voice low and unhappy. He shoots a glance around the room, checking that there's nobody close enough to overhear, before quietly admitting:

"But you're not alone. I received a little 'present' from home too..."

It's the first he's mentioned this to anybody. The mask was his secret, an abuse and a treasure all at once. Apollo doesn't hide how uncomfortable he is as he adds in a whisper:

"I found something. Something that belonged to my husband. And I found it under my pillow of all places..."

She had the same thing happen to her that it did to me, the hole shit with the wire. She grilled me about it.

[ Amos pours him a drink, sliding the glass over. ]

Gotta spend the time somehow, huh?

I've been spending most of it getting air filtration set up. As set up as possible, anyway.

( which amos and alex probably know because he's definitely asked them to help at some point handwavey handwavey olé )

But this works, too.

Everyone needs down-time, Doc.

[ Stabbing his fork into something that looks vaguely like curry but smells more like grapefruit. ]

Don't worry, you got a solid 10.

Yeah. ( it's just — downtime means thinking about mei. wondering where she is. if she's still alive, if she's still human, if she's still breathing, if she's started hating him yet for not being there. easier to just keep throwing him into something he knows.

but what alex says next distracts him, too. )

You did it for me, too? ( what. a little suspiciously: ) Ten out of what?

...Thanks?

[This is a weird conversation.]

I didn't realize we were deciding who we'd want to step on us.

Ten.

[ Ten out of ten. Amos's voice has no inflection or feeling behind it. The truth, plain and simple. Amos gives Prax a look, fingers reaching up to trace the scar on the side of his head, almost touching.]

The scar helps.

[ Christ help him. ]

It's just a way of puttin' it, Bobbie. Some people are sweet and you'd take 'em out somewhere nice, and some people could step on you and you'd thank 'em for it.

[ A pause. ]

Though I ain't sayin' it can't be both, but you know what I mean.

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