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You all waste so much fucking food.

[In a tone of almost aggressively disdainful what the fuck is wrong with you?.

(And he wouldn't have said anything otherwise, but the sheer fact of it is enough for his temper to override his common sense.)]

Wildcard/Spam

[Now that Simon's got most of his blood back, his ruined shoulder less stabby achy (but still weird, like the rest of his arm knows it's supposed to be there), and the radiation, he's been told, is significantly lessened, that more or less puts him back on an even keel.

Certainly he doesn't feel worse than when he was on Eden, now. (Should he be so on his feet just a month after a total dismemberment? Not his problem to worry about!!)

He tries to be diligent with his job, showing up to the commissary, but it's confusing enough there that he rarely spends long, instead still wandering the ship like a one-armed ghost, listless without a real fucking job to do. He'll explore everywhere except on deck, though he still doesn't seem inclined to really do anything with the bits and pieces he picks up and puts down.

As usual, he can always be found sleeping in the common rooms, though it's almost always with someone else trading shifts with him, usually the Ghoul and Dogmeat, or Ger. Or sometimes they're the ones sleeping and he's on duty, watching passersby with a slightly bowed head, sullen-faced but traitorously sharp eyes.]

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Here. Take the pillow for your arm at least, for the first part of the shift.

[He still has the pillow Ashton thrust on him. He likely smells of liquor because he usually does in order to get some sleep. But this time...he peers over.]

...are you mad because I didn't eat the orange peel the other day?

[The smell doesn't bother Simon as much (he's gotten used to it, more than anything), but he accepts the pillow being thrust at him without question.

His question comes when Ger's makes him cock his head in confusion.]

...no? I don't eat them either. I save them for the Ghoul.

[He should probably get a second bag for good food and Ghoul food, honestly.]

Re: Sleep shift spam

astraymoon - 2026-04-13 04:09 (UTC) - Expand

Once Simon had finally figured out what his job is he's been attempting to do it to the best of his ability.

...It's not that he's never cleaned anything, but with the abundance of magic on hand it's not nearly enough to make him look like he has never attempted anything along the lines of maintenance in his life. It doesn't help that he's working against his naturally nocturnal nature.

But he doesn't great the stranger because it means he can pause for a moment, but just because he likes getting to know new people. Even if he does take it as an opportunity to lean against a wall in a fashion he hopes doesn't suggest that he wishes he was asleep right now.

"Hello."

In the commissary, Donut lets Simon pet her all the time. Whenever he wants. She's a little worried for her new employee, not that she'll voice it.

Her purring is extra loud.

"Hey. Have you met Mongo, yet?"

Purring might be one of his favourite sounds so far. So he's grateful for how much Donut lets him pat her.

Though the question makes him frown curiously.

"Who's Mongo?"

Re: Spam

queen_anne_chonk - 2026-04-11 19:33 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Spam

an_execution - 2026-04-13 04:11 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Spam

queen_anne_chonk - 2026-04-13 14:23 (UTC) - Expand

[He's nearby when he hears the message go out and he pokes his head into wherever the Convict is.]

Don't fucking tell them that.

That's drying up my own supply!

The Outsider has, by John's recommendation, left the man more or less alone for the past few weeks. But he can't help it when he does spot him haunting the corridors. He follows at a distance, staying in the shadows, teleporting away when it seems like he might be spotted. Vincent might have put a restriction on him, but he knows how far away he can be before it takes effect.

He doesn't say anything, though. He just likes watching him.

Maybe it's just because he's pretty sure he looked a god in the fucking eye before

~~I see you~~

or maybe he's just crazy and paranoid after someone broke into his room, but Simon swears he can feel the eyes on him, that brings from the daze of exhausted haunting to a visceral crisis uncomfortably fast.

And when he's sure it's actively watching him, if the horrible sense of the hairs on his neck rising is any indication - he wrestles with an empty cabin door, and slams it shut behind him.

Sleep shift spam

Re: Sleep shift spam

spam

Spam

Re: Spam

Spam-ish

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

audio

Re: audio

spam; dining hall

Re: spam; dining hall

no subject

rip to your sleep

Re: rip to your sleep

audio

Re: audio

no subject

no subject