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Who: David "The Guest" Collins AND YOU??
When: Late June/first chunk of July
Where: Around the barge-- specifically right now the gym, the library, the art gazebo, the deck, and (sort of) the infirmary.
What: David is having a Hard Time adjusting to life outside of regimented control.
Warnings: Potential for violence if David's programming gets Set Off, feel free to ping me at

researchboner if you have any hesitations, curiosities, or concerns! Oh, and side note, yes, he looks very much like Arthur Lester--if a little taller, and with blue eyes instead of brown.

The first few days on board are...

Well, he kind of hates it, thanks, and not because he's a prisoner or because the place makes no logical sense, though there's a bit of that too.

He hates it because for the first time in a long time, the first time in more than a decade, he has no idea what to do with himself. He has no mission. He has no strict schedule. A job, yes. Times when the dining hall serves meals, classes or social gatherings that happen on an established calendar. But nothing deeply mandatory. It's like being a balloon suddenly let go, whipped off and away on a breeze that doesn't carry him anywhere important. It paralyzes him in a way he's never experienced before. An open range of possibilities that feels more like a mine field.

It's hard enough to deal with that, never mind trying to navigate it all without saying too much about where he's from. Without saying enough to necessitate murder.

This place might be even more complicated to handle than he thought.

LIBRARY - OTA

Books have never been a priority for David, but there are a lot of restless hours to fill in this place. More hours than most people have, with how little he sleeps.

Still, he's as new to this as he is to not having every hour of his day more or less accounted for. He wanders the stacks for a long time, unsure how to choose something, unsure what he even wants to choose. He spends a lot of time picking books up, turning them over in his hands, fanning the pages, skimming the contents, putting them back.

He eventually approaches whoever he finds in the stacks or at the circulation desks, an apologetic look on his face.

"I don't suppose you'd have any advice on choosing material for someone who's never been much of a reader."

GYM - OTA

Well, he's supposed to work here, so that's something, anyway. He shows up for his shifts exactly on time, and does whatever he's told with the dutiful quiet of someone who's used to taking orders. When he's not doing anything specific, he'll keep a general eye on the place, help anyone who looks like they're having trouble, and even suggest posture changes or specific exercises for people he sees using equipment non-optimally.

He's here a lot in his off hours, too, pushing himself harder than he probably should while he's still recovering from injuries. They're gone, John healed him, but the fatigue from blood loss lingers, and David is curious to see how much he's still capable of doing with the limitations of the barge in place.

It's unnerving. All of it.

ART GAZEBO - OTA

He told Charlie that art wasn't really his thing, and that's true. But he finally goes to the art gazebo in a mix of boredom and curiosity.

He walks around the place a bit like a certified clumsy person trying to navigate through a store full of porcelain, or a cat hemmed in by puddles. Doesn't quite touch anything, no matter how close he might inspect it. The smiles he offers anyone he encounters are the neutrally social things one provides to strangers, though there's an edge of discomfort to them that isn't there most of the time.

When he reaches the instruments, he lingers a little more. Actually does touch things, though he does his best not to make any actual noise. Runs a fingertip over a violin string, touches a key on the piano light enough that it makes the quietest ping.

He shakes his head and steps back like he's waking himself up from a dream.

To himself, he says, "You'd be better off with finger paints."

INFIRMARY (or like the hall outside it) - OTA

David does not go into the infirmary. He doesn't know why he even goes to look at it, except that it's like picking a scab or pressing on a bruise. Testing himself. Seeing how far he can get before instinct arrests him or makes him want to set the place on fire.

He gets as far as the front door a couple of times before he decides yeah, that's close enough.

DECK - OTA

He dislikes the deck almost as much as the infirmary. But given that it's the largest open space outside of the artificial ones available in the Enclosure, and given that it's a necessary in-between to get to a lot of places on board, well. David spends a lot of time out there.

A lot of time looking like he might either be about to vomit or like his resting bitch face has set hard enough to crack and show something manic underneath.

Why does it bother him so much?

Honestly, he couldn't say.

WILDCARD

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Abel has taken to posting daily task lists rather than giving any sort of instruction. They are written neatly out on a daily task list with little check off boxes next to them. It gives some space between himself and Jacob while also keeping himself from accidentally 'fixing' someone's work.

David's behavior is a breath of fresh air, but haunting the gym like he does, just like Abel himself does, he starts to catch something off. It probably would have taken him less time if he hadn't been so distracted watching him do sets under the guise of making sure his technique was right.

It should be addressed though, and he'll do just that, finding time to talk to him as he finishes a set.

"You know, if you're here more than I am, I know you have some kind of problem." He is at least gentle when he says it, "I don't mind the commitment to fitness but everyone has a limit and I don't want you to hurt yourself just because you're restless."

David eases himself off of the decline bench, tugging his t-shirt back down over his abdomen and its scars as he comes upright again. He does ache a bit, and he is tired, but he can't tell how much of that is recovery and how much is this place hampering what the project made him able to do.

At least Abel doesn't frame his concern as some kind of demand or order--nothing that would keep David off the machines.

"I'm all right, sir. Thank you, though, for the concern."

He's working. It was incredibly hard not to stare too hard or too long, allowing himself just a glance as he's pulling his shirt back into place.

"You don't have to call me Sir, I wasn't ever anyone's superior officer anyways, Abel is fine." He corrects, placing his hand on his hip, "you know, I've been doing the same thing since I got here. Were you still in service before you arrived? The transition is brutal." Which he is positive is a correct assumption.

Perhaps he could lend him his reintegration book he'd gotten in port, despite the fact that it definitely did have personal notes in the margins, it might help.

Edited 2024-07-03 01:40 (UTC)

Re: makes Abel suffer

hostileterritory - 2024-07-11 04:14 (UTC) - Expand

Re: makes Abel suffer

inthebiblicalsense - 2024-07-11 04:23 (UTC) - Expand

Gym

makes Abel suffer

Re: makes Abel suffer

Library

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Infirmary

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Art room

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gym;

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Gym

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Outside the Infirmary

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Art Gazebo

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deck

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