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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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Bobbie considers forcing herself up on her own, but she's exhausted, and she's not proud enough to lie to herself about it, so she accepts his arm and stands a bit unsteadily.

"...Thanks."

His own arm is solid and steady and as much as it breaks his heart to see her like this, not even a sliver of that appears in his expression.

Instead, he just rests his hand on her elbow once she's up, and walks with her back out of the mess hall. It's not the shortest walk, all the way down to the sixth level, so as they walk he tells her a dumb story about one time that he was on shore leave on Ceres and things didn't go as well as they should have, and it involved waking up in various unexpected places and a good deal of gambling.

"-- luckily we shipped out the next day, so I just slipped out as quickly and quietly as I could, and let the ride to Saturn take the rest of the edge off."

When they got to the door, he reached out and pressed the control panel, the door sliding open.

By the time they reach the room, Bobbie's laughing and leaning on him just a bit too heavily. Who knew it would be hard to laugh and walk at the same time? She's a little breathless when they stop, and it leaks into her voice. "So how much did you win?"

"Enough to make myself very comfortable, next shore leave, let's put it that way." He's smiling broadly and warmly, his hand having at some point floated down to rest on the small of her back when she leaned into him, to keep her upright better.

The room was empty - not a surprise, at this time of day, though the evidence of just how many people had been bunking in it was still obvious.

"Go on, take a seat. You want a glass of water or anythin'?"

"Remind me never to bet against you."

She pulls away, half lowering herself and half collapsing onto one of the mattresses, leaning her back against the wall, and then patting the spot beside her.

"I'm fine."

"I will absolutely not do that, because the first thing I'm doin' if we get a deck of cards here is draggin' you all into a poker night. Whether we have anythin' to bet or not."

He slips into the joint bathroom, returning a moment later with a glass of water for himself, and a second one, for Bobbie, in case she wanted it later. He set hers down on the little wall shelf near by, then sat down next to her on the mattress, close enough that their shoulders butted up against each other.

She leans into his shoulder without realizing she's doing it, too exhausted to keep herself upright. "You think I'm stupid enough to set myself up to fail?"

"I think you'd rise to any challenge I'd offer," he replied with a grin, taking a drink and leaning back against her easily.

"Plus, who knows. Maybe you could teach me a lesson or two about hubris."

It's kind of a relief to be alone in the room with him, actually. She hadn't fully realized how on edge she was with other people around until now.

"Are you saying you could use a good ass kicking? Not the best thing to tell a marine."

"Wouldn't say it if I couldn't take it," He replied warmly.

"But mostly I just think it'd be nice, you know? Just forget about all the shit we're in and play a dumb game and laugh a while."

"That's a bold claim."

He's right, though. It would be nice to just pretend they're not in a life or death situation for a few hours. Bobbie lets out a breath, then finally gives into that overwhelming urge to rest her head on his shoulder, albeit hesitantly at first. It feels a little ridiculous, but she's exhausted in a bone deep, aching way.

"Give me a day or two and I'll show you how it's done."

Hopefully.

She should have weighed more, leaning against him, was his first thought, and it made his heart ache with both sympathy and worry, pulling his chest tight. But he just let out a breath, sliding his arm around her and giving her a warm, one armed sideways hug.

"Ain't a doubt in my mind you'll wipe the floor with me, Gunny," he murmured, and it was in the fondest tone it possibly could be.

Bobbie scoffs, half a laugh, and her eyes close when he slips his arm around her. She's letting her guard down completely with him, and she'd find that odd if it didn't feel so completely natural. She thinks she might be able to count the amount of people she'd let herself be this vulnerable with on one hand. Somehow, Alex has managed to make it onto that list in just a couple of months.

"Liar. Quit trying to make me feel better."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." Utterly honest and completely unapologetic. He just left his arm where it was and tried not to think about the warmth that spread through his chest.

"I could try makin' you feel worse but that don't sound fun at all."

That's a fine strategy—Bobbie is making a point not to think about it too hard, either. The only reason she doesn't want to pull away is because she's so tired. That's certainly it. Her lips quirk up, and she shifts slightly.

"Tell me another embarrassing story, then."

"Well, I ain't on short supply for those," he admitted, flashing her a smile. He leaned his head back against the wall and hummed lowly, trying to pull one out from the depths of his memory.

"Alright, I got one. Even got some marines in it. So, we'd just finished Basic, and we were going to ship out the next day, when a bunch of us sailors thought it would be a good idea to challenge everyone in the bar to a drinkin' contest..."

Alex continued the story in his even drawl, the warmth having spread through every atom of him, his eyes fixed on a point across the other side of the room even as all his awareness (despite trying to ignore it) was on the weight against his shoulder.

His voice is soothing, and by the time he finishes, she's dozing off, half curled against him. She doesn't even respond to the end of the story, in fact, eyes closed and breathing evening out.

He had guessed that she'd fallen asleep when she didn't laugh at one of the (in his opinion) funnier bits of the story, but he kept talking anyway, as if to stop now would break whatever spell she was under. He was nervous, though, so when he finished and fell silent, he turned his head to look down at her, no longer having to keep a smile on his lips.

She looked so small, compared to her normal self. It was honestly a little terrifying, now that he had a minute to think about it, and her breathing was so quiet and slow that a fear grew in his breast and he had to hold his free hand up just a couple inches from her face, to make sure he could still feel her breath against it. Just to check that she wasn't slipping away into whatever fucked up half death that he'd already suffered. But she kept sleeping, and she looked so peaceful, unhaunted by the voices driving for guilt, that he relaxed.

He hated seeing her this small, like she didn't even fill out her own personality, but at the same time he felt a surge of protectiveness. He knew that in a normal situation, she was the one who'd pull his ass from the fire, no matter how much he'd like to pretend they were at least even on that score. She was a marine. Unlike Amos, it really was her job to protect him - to protect the pilot. He didn't like thinking that way, preferred to fight his own battles if he could, but...

He didn't mind knowing he had a marine at his back.

And now here she was, a fraction of herself, and he wanted to protect her - wanted to save her, and he had almost nothing to do that with. There was no enemy to fight, nothing to fly or shoot. Whatever was doing this to them wasn't something he could stop. He couldn't even see it.

All he could do was be there, and tell her dumb stories, and hope that this would go away in a far less violent way than his - Illness? Incident? - had.

So he didn't move. He just watched her, and couldn't quite stop himself from reaching out and pushing a stray piece of hair from her face. Then he watched for a minute more, his chest twisting as he fought himself, urge and reason on opposite sides of the debate. Urge won out - reason being mollified by the fact that she was asleep - and he leaned in to almost barely touch his lips to her hair, and murmur: "I've got you, gunny."

A little while later, his head fell back against the wall, and he drifted off to sleep with her.

Edited (And then I found a million mistakes) 2018-06-29 14:00 (UTC)

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