Alex "not in love with a spaceship" Kamal (
donkeyballs) wrote in
reverielogs2018-06-08 01:12 pm
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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.
» 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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The doors open for the showers and he immediately bee-lines for the nearest one and turns it on, but instead of getting into it, he stands outside of the stream and puts his hands out, gathering water in them - in both of them - and then drinking it down.
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"Kamal, look at me."
Maybe two decades of military service will kick in and he'll actually listen this time.
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It has the effect she's looking for, however. The officer tone immediately cuts through the rest - the same tone that Holden employs when he wants to get Alex to shut up and do his job - and he swallows.
"Sir."
He's looking. He looks panicked, but he's looking.
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"Tell me what happened. From the beginning," she says, tone still firm but less whip sharp.
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"I don't know, Gunny, I woke up and it was like- like none of the water would stay in my god damn body, and I - " He halted, paling.
And he heard them. It was your duty to Mars. To us.
"I don't know what the hell is happenin' to me--"
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"I can- I can show you. I'll show you. Just - just let me have a drink first, okay? I can't - I don't want to lose too much."
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"Go ahead, but then we're heading back to my quarters. Alright?"
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"No, that won't work. I don't mean - it ain't happening now - I can't show you that, but it--" His tried to breathe properly but it was coming too fast, thinking about it was making his heart race again. "It's still there, the - the stain, on my floor, on my clothes -- it wasn't just - you can see it."
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"Alright. I'll come with you and you can show me." Honestly, she's not sure if she hopes it's there or if she hopes it's not.
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He leads her there, even though he hesitates for a few seconds at the door, before opening it. The scene is much the same as he left it. The crusted dried stain of sweat on the floor where he fell, but also on his sheets, and the jumpsuit that is flung over the back of the chair. The shards of shattered class still lay on the sink.
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"What happened? Can you walk me through it?"
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"Woke up and I was - I was just drenched in sweat," he said, looking at the bed. "Tried to go get a drink, but broke the glass, and -" He swallowed again, his heart rate picking up. "Gunny, I swear, I- I looked in the mirror and it was like my- my skin was just hangin' off my bones, and the sweat - I don't know if I can even call it that - it was runnin' off my like rivers, like - like somethin' was squeezin' every molecule of moisture outta my cells, and- and my legs failed, and- and I - the whole time, I heard them, like they were right goddamn there--"
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"I never -- I never wanted to hurt 'em, Gunny." His voice was almost pleading. "Knew my duty, I did, and I tried to keep it - I tried, but I ain't- I ain't - I wouldn't have left if I thought I could-- I never meant to hurt 'em, either of them, I didn't want to--"
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"They ain't here. Right? They can't be here. They wouldn't just -- they wouldn't just stand there, right? They wouldn't just leave me like that - - even if they hate me, Gunny, even if they should hate me, they wouldn't leave me like that--"
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Which doesn't explain the rest of it, but... One step at a time.
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"Probably was - probably hallucinatin', right? Losin'... losin' so much water that I was just hearin' things..." He doesn't sound so much like he believes it rather than that he's trying to believe it.
When he speaks again, his voice it quiet.
"I shouldn't be alive, Gunny. I shouldn't -- ain't no one that can live through that, my skin was comin' right off my bones--"
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He had to look, again, the reminder making him paranoid - so he pulled his hands up and turned them over, checking - but they were still fine. "I don't know. I don't know, Gunny, I don't-- I don't trust myself, and no one was there--"
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"I'm here now. You're okay, Alex. You're safe."
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The only reason he's holding it together at all is that it only seems to have happened to him. Bobbie's arms are warm and firm and more importantly full - there's no muscle disappearing, no tendons pulled into sharp relief under her skin. She's fine, Prax is fine, Amos is fine -- his family is okay, other than him, and that's enough to keep him from dissolving completely.
He doesn't return the hug, just lets her hug him, and tries to breathe.
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"We'll figure this out, okay? You can crash in my quarters if you want." Going back to that room isn't going to do him any good.
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