theotherright | come sail away IC inbox

I don't know. I... I don't know.

[ Arthur has a guess, but he doesn't say it yet. He stands tense, and not quite backed away from Steve, but not too close to him either. He should've done this with a door between them, just in case, but the question about Crichton jumped out of him instead. ]

What- what did I sing on the raft? Don't ask why, j-just answer.

[ That's not fair he didn't know that song!!!! And then he freakin died immediately after hearing it. He has to wrack his brain for a moment but —]

Uh, some old song about drunk sailors? I'd never heard it before.

[ But this isn't a bad idea, building trust. What with everything going on. ]

What were we talking about before the raft? On the beach.

[ Steve, after an extremely tense moment, answers, thank god. Answers well enough to demonstrate that he was there, at least. And then he throws a question back at Arthur, which can only mean: Steve knows what's happening too. ]

Boxing. Who would win, between Dempsey and... and... [ shit. The name is half-lost in how drunk they were. ] Stings like a bee... Ali.

[ With a harsh breath out, and distinct relief in both his face and posture: ] Thank god it's you. You- you know, then.

[ Mr. Floats-Like-a-Bumblebee himself, got it in one. ]

I don't know what you know but something's wrong with Smith. He attacked me. It's like he went crazy or something.

[ He speaks urgently, nervously, still shaky from adrenaline. Being attacked by Smith had been frightening enough but now, seeing the pieces of a much bigger puzzle come together, he's not sure what to think. ]

Oh jesus.

[ More than one person possessed. Sometimes he hates being right. But Smith of all people- jesus, he and Smith don't always get on perfectly, but the particular ghost that chose to take his body now has Arthur's very specific and targeted ire. ]

I'll explain, but first- are you hurt? I don't know if sightless first aid is up to much, but I keep bandages a-and some other medical necessities around here...

[ Since any cabin with Arthur in it is bound to need a first aid kit eventually. He's already started moving towards where he knows the supplies are kept, leading with his cane to make sure he's walking in the direction he thinks he is. ]

I'm okay. He tried to break my arm but I got away. I guess he didn't think I'd fight back.

[ He also has a bit of a bloody nose from where they headbutted each other like a couple of idiots but he's not worried about that, no need to bring it up. ]

What should we do? I guess we should warn people. He was acting pretty messed up.

Well thank god you got away.

[ Does Steve... know about the possessions? It sounds like he doesn't, now, but he asked that question to make sure Arthur was Arthur, and why would he if he didn't...

He answered his own question correctly, though. Christ, Arthur can't afford to get this paranoid this quickly. ]

He's possessed by a malevolent ghost, [ he says, factually, and then stops, to see what Steve will say. ]

Edited 2022-10-14 00:23 (UTC)

[ Malevolent ghost, quite frankly, annoys the hell out of him. What do you know about that? he wants to say. How is it your place to judge?

But he does not say these things. ]

Possessed by.... shit. [ He sighs, world-weary. ] The way he talked, it was like he thought he was someone who was on the boat before us or something.

I suppose we're finally starting to see where some of the ship's ghosts have gone.

[ The detail in Skulduggery's notes about them maybe being previous passengers really, really stayed with Arthur. And it makes the ghosts' situation horrifying, yes, and yes it makes them default to sympathetic; but that sympathy is incredibly quickly lost when they start attacking people.

Arthur says this, and amazingly manages to only sound highly nervous, and not like someone who has really specific getting-possessed-related trauma ha ha ha no he's fine he's super fine. ]

What did you think had happened to him? Just... lost his mind? [ He's taking from Steve's answer that possession was not on the table until just now. Which, fair, the sane reaction would probably be to not leap straight to that. ]

I don't know, I wasn't really sure. It happened so fast. [ He sighs again, hesitates as if he's unsure whether or not he should continue, then: ] I'm gonna tell you something and it's gonna sound crazy, okay? But I swear it's not. Well, I mean, it is, but it's also true.

So the town I'm from, Hawkins? There's something wrong with it. People say it's cursed, and maybe it is, I don't know. It's just... bad there. Things happen, people go missing. There are monsters. But most people don't even know about it.

[ THE POINT is: ]

There was this one monster that could get into people's heads and control them. We called it the Mind Flayer. It died, but now some new one showed up, Vecna. He can get into people's heads too, make them see bad shit. Like, bad memories or whatever.

Ever since I came here I've been afraid that's what happened to me. Like, what if Vecna or something like the Mind Flayer is just making me think I'm here?

[ This isn't easy to talk about, and he honestly regrets bringing it up. His eyes sting and he has to clear his throat before he can speak again, in that telltale way that says "absolutely do not bring up the fact that I am having an emotion." ]

Anyway, my point is, that's what Smith reminded me of. The Mind Flayer.

[ hmmm hmmm hmmmmmmmmmmmmm almost like being controlled by something really sucks huh feels kinda bad huh maybe controlling someone else also is bad huh hmmmmmmmmmm ]

Edited (fixing words) 2022-10-14 02:39 (UTC)

[ Arthur had a follow-up question in mind, a real stumper for someone making his story up on the fly: and what did you think had happened to me? But he should probably know by now that if he has a plan for how a conversation will go, it will immediately get derailed.

Jesus. Steve has never breathed a hint of any of this to him before. And maybe that should be a red flag, but the choked-off emotion in Steve's voice is real, and the details of what he's describing...

Empathy from Arthur can be a weird business, and an all-or-nothing one as well; Steve's story sets the dial to 'all'. ]

That... doesn't sound crazy. [ Arthur could say something vague like 'look where we are' and it would probably be reassurance enough, but it also feels like a coward's option, after Steve opened up about a subject so clearly sore.

He wonders if it got into Steve's head. He doesn't ask, but he wonders. ]

There are... things like that in my world too. Things that... that control people, that whisper in people's ears, and make them do things. [ Arthur's left hand makes a fist. He's audibly navigating the edge of a bottomless pit here, and has no intention of jumping into any specifics, but... there it is.

When he continues, his voice is suddenly harsh. ]

I have no. Fucking. Patience. No fucking quarter. For anything that does that to a person.

[ Now that... is surprising. And it explains a lot about why Arthur is the way he is, maybe. Perhaps Steve had been a little too quick to judge. ]

No. Me neither.

[ And that's the truth, in spite of the circumstances. But he can't explain the desperation to Arthur, nor would he ever try if he were to suddenly abandon this act.

So he sighs, just like Steve would, and rubs his hand over his mouth and allows himself to sink onto the edge of one of the beds. ]

Shit, man. I had no idea... [ He trails off, thoughtful. ] So then... what if it's not people from before? What if it just wants us to think it is? It could be, like, the Captain kidnapped some of the things from our worlds, right? Could he do that?

[ Me neither. They understand each other, then, to some extent at least. And it's worthy of respect that, despite Steve's home being such a horrorshow, he was still so motivated to get back to it to help his friends.

Jesus. If they'd succeeded in getting away-- or if they'd never woken up in their beds-- or, hell, if they'd never been kidnapped here in the first place-- this would have never happened to Smith. If they'd never been kidnapped in the first place, Crichton wouldn't be cooling in the morgue. The fucking Captain-- there's plenty to cricitise about the ghosts, but it all comes back to the fucking Captain.

Arthur is allergic to sitting, and paces instead. Stalks, really. There's a tension in his body that's just on this side of violence. He knows the shape of the cabin well, well enough to move about more or less unguided by his cane, which he holds more like a truncheon.

A bitter laugh. ]

Kidnapped, kidnapped. We all keep saying kidnapped, but it's more like custom-built, isn't it? We none of us actually saw those blue remembered hills. I don't know if you credit that idea any more now than you did when Smith shared it -- christ, I don't know if I do, but I'm still losing sleep over it. Ha! We're no more kidnapped than toys are to the factory that made them. Yes, I think the Captain, [ and he pronounces the title like a curse, ] could kidnap any fucking thing he pleases.

But I don't think it's that. I have a-an... unusual friend here. [ muttered to himself: ] When do I not. [ Aaand out loud for the class again, without a hint of reverence or awe: ] A demigod of death, apparently. Have you met Bash?

[ Steve is quiet as Arthur rants, just watching him pace. It's true — all of this. It all comes back to the fucking Captain, and what can they do to stop him? Nothing. It's always nothing.

And when the subject of a demigod of death comes up... well, that doesn't sound good, now, does it? Funnily enough, he had met Bash, but they'd never exchanged names. They'd only spoken briefly during that stupid game on the beach... so as far as he knows, no. They've never met.

The name is actually familiar, for other reasons, but he's careful not to let that slip. ]

I don't think so, [ he says. ] What does that even mean?

[ It means VERY BAD THINGS and he already knows this. ]

It means he's looked at the thing inside his... friend, [ there is a whole story behind the weird intonation on 'friend' please don't ask, ] and seen that it's a ghost. His purview.

[ A ghost that Arthur hates, if anything, even more than he hates the one controlling Smith. Even though Bash chose not to, even though Arthur's definitely outmatched, even though there's an innocent man who might be conscious and who'd die too, Arthur's having to really push down the impulse to go out and murder a fucking bard today. ]

He can't pull them out-- o-of course, that would, that would be too easy. Only detect them. Useless fucking god if you ask me.

[ He doesn't mean that, but he says it in anger and grief and frustration anyway. ]

[ ooc note that there's no elegant way to work into the narration, but lmfao the timeline of this thread. please pretend I didn't start out thinking that this would happen before arthur found out crichton was dead. this is definitely happening after that. ]

Goddammit, [ Steve says. ] We're screwed. We're totally screwed.

[ It's still part of the act but damn if he doesn't really feel it. ]

Seriously, what do we do? We don't even know how many there are. Smith said something about it... something like, I don't know, it was stupid. Like, "You can't run. We're everywhere. You'll all join us soon." Some creepy shit like that. Like real scary movie stuff, you know?

[ Shitshitshitshitshit, goes his inner voice. He needs to cut this conversation short soon and scamper off to make some contingency plans. This Bash is shaping up to be some real trouble if he goes unchecked. Something needs to be done about that. ]

Who's the other one? Is it someone close to Smith?

[ He already knows the answer but. Y'know. Anything for the sake of the ~*~performance~*~. ]

[ You'll all join us soon.

Arthur's pacing stutters to a halt, and the knuckles of his left hand are white.

There's something odd about the way Steve says it, like it's not a sentence formed naturally, but a set of points retrofitted into one. But that thread gets lost, because there's the message on the door and now this to back it up...

He's sort of aware that he's not thinking straight, but between this and Crichton's death, he's also sort of not equipped to straighten his thinking out on the fly.

Can't wait for you to join us. ]

If I'm next, [ he blurts out, instead of answering the question, ] and I attack you, then- then kill me. I-I shouldn't be too hard to take down. I-I'll come back anyway, and I'd rather- jesus- I'd rather that than I hurt you too.

[ This is, of course, a wild fucking thing to say, especially without preamble. Arthur's voice is unsteady. He can feel, as if it's happening, how deep his thumbs went into Parker's trachea. ]

Edited 2022-10-15 22:11 (UTC)

[ If there was a reason he'd decided to run and tattle to Arthur this is it — he'd been aiming to whip someone up into a frenzy over Smith. This is dangerous territory, though. Treading the apparently fine line between believability and self-preservation isn't a place he wanted to go right now.

One thing at a time. First he just needs to make it out of this room confident that he's sold the scam. ]

That's — no. I can't do that. No way, [ he says, because he knows Steve would advocate for a more palatable option. Even when what Arthur's suggesting makes the most sense, Steve wouldn't want to go there. ] If that happens — and that's if — there has to be another way. We could tie you up or lock you in here or something until we figure it out.

I know, I know, I know, that's a- that's a hell of a thing to ask of somebody, I'm sorry. [ Maybe you should think things through before you say them Arthur!

Muttered: ] Would Smith want that? I don't-- I don't know. Maybe. Bit late to ask, now. B-but we could tie him up. The brig, maybe.

[ It's not something they ever talked about. It's not the kind of thing you casually bring up and plan for. As cavalier as his grief made him about the idea of killing Jeff, he doesn't like to kill people; he's sick of it, nauseatingly sick of it, and that hasn't changed just because he's in a place where death isn't permanent. ]

Or... would he come back to life unpossessed? [ he asks himself, and answers himself too: ] Maybe, or maybe he'd- christ, maybe his body would come back, and he'd be gone. I don't know.

[ No, his mind whispers back to him, or maybe it's echoing: know. But he doesn't know. All he knows is what it feels like to watch your own hands do something you can't countenance or explain.

Arthur breathes out sharply, and addresses Steve directly again. ]

The Mind Flayer. Did it get into your head?

[ He's grateful in that moment that Arthur can't see his face, because the expression that passes over it is just Billy. Tight jaw, nostrils flaring as he draws in quick, sharp breaths. All this time and that thing still has such power over him. He hates it. It's been a long time since Hawkins, and the Mind Flayer. He'd never even known it had a name until much later.

All that time and he can still feel it clawing at him if he lets himself. He can remember how it thought, how it felt. The things it made him do.

(But this, he reminds himself, is different. They don't have a choice.) ]

Don't. [ Quiet, but firm. Then, because he's still Steve, a gentler: ] Sorry. I don't wanna talk about it.

[ He pauses only briefly before swiftly moving on. ] Do you think we could tie Smith up? He's pretty strong.

[ Couldn't get a clearer 'yes' than that. Arthur puts a hand over his face, knuckles against his forehead, and a moment later he starts to laugh quietly through his nose. It's just hoarse breath, a laugh of 'god, is this real life?'.

Arthur, Crichton, Steve, Jeff, Smith... and who knows how many others, both before and after being kidnapped-- why does this keep happening? Does the Captain just get off on people's power being taken away from them?

He stops himself laughing. If you can call it laughing. It's just his lungs moving, forcing sparodic air out of him. ]

Of course. Right. I-I'm sorry, I... that was inappropriate, but I... o-of all the patterns, I never thought I'd see that one.

[ This sucks.

Arthur's hand falls from his face, and he begins to sort of mime, in the air, as he thinks Steve's suggestion over. ]

I think... if we surprised him. He doesn't know you've told me yet. God, I- I wish I had my eyes, I was never a prize fighter but I could at least throw a punch or two.

[ Yes, this is coming from the guy who looks like he was a coma patient for a month. ]

[ What pattern, he wonders. He wants to ask, even opens his mouth to form the question, but thinks better of it. This isn't the time or place for it.

He's here for one purpose: to make things difficult for that asshole, Peter Smith. Nothing else matters right now. ]

I got it! [ He claps his hands together for emphasis. ] We find him, I'll stay out of sight, right? You go talk to him. Meanwhile, I'll be sneaking behind with a rope to take him by surprise. It'll work. Definitely.

[ Airtight solid plan. ]

[ Uhhh sure it is. ]

I don't know, I- I think we can go about it smarter than that. There are all sorts of things in the infirmary that'll put a man to sleep.

[ Normal things to casually say. ]

Or-- No, you, you know, I think we're forgetting someone obvous. Bash fought a man with magical powers, I should think he could handle Smith-- a-as backup, at the very least. I don't want you to endanger yourself unnecessarily.

[ For a moment he reaches into his pocket, but then he remembers the fucking battle with speech-to-text that April had to rescue him from earlier, and grimaces. ]

...Though I think you'd better handle sending him a message. The technology on this ship is a- a joke.

Yeah, sure.

[ Once he has the cabin number and all that, he does type out a text just in case Arthur's listening for the little tippity-tap of phone typing. Then he just deletes it. Success.

Once that's settled, they set off on their merry little trip to the infirmary. Steve spends the majority of the time worried that Smith might catch them and blow the cover but luck is on his side today and no such thing happens. Their luck continues when Steve spots ketamine amongst the many, many infirmary wares and remembers that, oh hey, that's a drug people use and it could certainly be the drug they could use on Smith.

Smash cut back to Arthur's cabin where Steve now has a syringe of said ketamine, ready to go. ]

Wait, [ he's saying as he heads to crouch in the bathroom like a goblin. ] Where should I stab him? His neck?

[ SOME PEOPLE HERE might have experience with being stabbed in the neck with syringes full of sedative. It kinda sucks but. It's fine. ]

Will that work? Is that, like... Is it safe?

Safer than letting him kill somebody.

[ Arthur...

Arthur sounds determined, and surprisingly calm. He's been presented once again with a shining, certain path, as if a dozen voices cried out in simultaneous agreement that this should be where he walks next. The fact that he felt the exact same way about getting on the raft is... look, that's irrelevant. ]

And the neck i-is probably fastest. You know how to use a syringe, don't you? Tapping out the air? I don't want to actually hurt him if we can avoid it.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

CW from this point forward for drugs (ketamine), drugging someone, needles

no subject