Eugene Roe (
illbetheresir) wrote in
lastvoyages2018-12-03 02:26 pm
Entry tags:
d-day + 83 ♠️ spam & video
[Open Spam]
[Gene heads up to the deck just as he has almost every morning since the first few weeks of being on board in his PT gear, eager for the routine of his morning run. He reaches the top of the stairs, pushes the door open, and-
It's the gust of wind that takes him back more than anything else, the cold air immediately cutting through his white t-shirt and black shorts. There's a phantom whistling in his ears, a weird double vision as he takes in the large snowflakes drifting down to the deck, settling in small drifts when the wind catches it and nudges it up against the deck railing or chairs, and it makes him think about-
wrapping himself tighter in his thin blanket as the shells pound the forest around him, pressing himself against the frozen wall of his foxhole as the ground shakes, sending snow spilling over the sides. Someone screaming for a medic, screaming for him, but not being able to move, feeling so frozen and numb and-
Shaking himself, he turns around, muttering an automatic apology for blocking the door to anyone behind him. A few minutes later, he can be found in the dining hall, nursing a steaming mug of black coffee and huddled in his tanker jacket. It's the same coat he'd been wearing when he first turned up on board, although it's thankfully clean of bloodstains thanks to Fives's help.]
[Public Video]
[Back in the infirmary, looking decidedly pinch faced and tense, Gene just has one question:]
How long's it gonna be snowin' up on deck?
[ooc: as per usual, multiples and fuzzy time are more than welcome for the spam!]
[Gene heads up to the deck just as he has almost every morning since the first few weeks of being on board in his PT gear, eager for the routine of his morning run. He reaches the top of the stairs, pushes the door open, and-
It's the gust of wind that takes him back more than anything else, the cold air immediately cutting through his white t-shirt and black shorts. There's a phantom whistling in his ears, a weird double vision as he takes in the large snowflakes drifting down to the deck, settling in small drifts when the wind catches it and nudges it up against the deck railing or chairs, and it makes him think about-
wrapping himself tighter in his thin blanket as the shells pound the forest around him, pressing himself against the frozen wall of his foxhole as the ground shakes, sending snow spilling over the sides. Someone screaming for a medic, screaming for him, but not being able to move, feeling so frozen and numb and-
Shaking himself, he turns around, muttering an automatic apology for blocking the door to anyone behind him. A few minutes later, he can be found in the dining hall, nursing a steaming mug of black coffee and huddled in his tanker jacket. It's the same coat he'd been wearing when he first turned up on board, although it's thankfully clean of bloodstains thanks to Fives's help.]
[Public Video]
[Back in the infirmary, looking decidedly pinch faced and tense, Gene just has one question:]
How long's it gonna be snowin' up on deck?
[ooc: as per usual, multiples and fuzzy time are more than welcome for the spam!]

video
video
video
video
no subject
It's why he hesitates for a long time when he sees Gene huddled in his seat. He knows who he is, he knows where he's from, and he doesn't look like he wants company.
Isn't that just what he would've said? He has a mug of coffee of his own, and finally goes for it, rapping his knuckles on the table. "Mind if I join ya?"
no subject
He's more or less zoned out completely when Ray taps the table, and he jumps just a little, blinking, expression softening when he sees who it is. Ray Kowalski, the new guy from Chicago.
"Sure," he says, nodding and sitting up a little straighter, doing his best to school his expression into Doc Roe and less guy who might need to be taken off the line for a few days. "How's things?"
no subject
"Things're goin'," he says, with a little grin. "Weird place, right? Steep learning curve. And I ain't too good at school."
no subject
no subject
"Me, overwhelmed? Nah. Won't say I had weirder, but my life's pretty weird as it is. Anyway, gives me time to figure out the rules, see what inmates really feel."
no subject
"How's it weird?"
no subject
He scratches at the stubble on his jaw for a second as he thinks about that, staring off into space.
"Alright, I got an example. Last year I was playing chess with this old guy in the park. He's a little nutty, I thought, received intel from the government through the metal plate in his head. You know, harmless, but a little kooky. Turns out that his paranoid ass did pick something up: a piece'a paper from a trash bin that gave a real fuckin' Russian operative some instructions."
He leans forward so he can cradle his cup of coffee between his hands and tell his story.
"This day started with me playin' chess in a park-- two days later I'm at the docks with my Mountie partner, his deaf half-wolf, Russian mobsters, the American intelligence guy that kidnapped me for a hot second, plus the old guy, whose girlfriend turned out to be some kinda deep-cover Russian spy who's been fucking him over all along. Tell you the truth, I ain't even sure how it happened, or why we were ankle-deep in rubber ducks during the standoff."
no subject
no subject
no subject
And I'll be honest - I probably would. Unfortunately, I can only make things colder, so I'm afraid I can't actually help too much.
Are you holding up alright, at least?
no subject
Just I'm just gonna be avoidin' the deck for a while.
video, private
video, private
video, private
Dining Hall
I'm given to understand that you, as my Warden, can request the Admiral change my cabin interior.
[His fingers restlessly trace circles on the table top.]
no subject
Yeah, sure. What d'you wanna change it to?
no subject