E. B. Sledge (
withtheoldbreed) wrote2015-06-24 10:16 pm
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d-day + 221 ✯ voice & spam
[Spam for Snafu]
[Gene steps out of the Enclosure feeling unclean, like he needs to lock himself in the bathroom and shower for weeks to get the grime of that place off him. That's actually what he does first, retreating to his room so he can scrub his skin raw and collapse into a bed that's more comfortable than he's used to these days.
It's not until the next morning that he heads back to Snafu's room with an obvious tired slump to his shoulders. He'd slept, but doesn't really feel rested even if he doesn't remember if he'd dreamed at all. He has no idea what things were like for everyone else who wasn't trapped in the Enclosure, but the last time he'd been separated from the people left on board, they'd been killed over and over again by the invading demons, or creatures, or whatever they were. It's enough to make him a little worried about what he's going to find when he opens the door and steps inside, looking for his friend.]
[Private to Jimmy, backdated]
[After he's slept, the first thing he does is check in on Jimmy, even if at first, he's not really sure what to say.
(There's something in him that sort of wants to say nothing at all for a while longer, but it's very easy to set that hollow ache aside to focus on making sure Jimmy's not hurting, too.)]
You okay?
[Public, Voice]
I'm helpin' Pounce out with the library. Meant to say somethin' earlier, but, [You can almost hear the small grimace.
He winds up leaving it at that, because it's not like anyone really requires any explanation for what he's been up to.]
If anyone needs me, I'll be doin' some reshelving.
[Open Spam]
[And that's exactly what he does. Most of the rest of his day is spent in the library, reshelving books and just kind of losing himself in the stacks. It's usually quiet in here, and there's enough to keep him busy that he can more or less focus on the task at hand instead of getting caught up in his own head.
More or less.
At some point, he does retreat to a corner and pull out the by now slightly battered notebook Steve got him for Christmas, writing deliberately on the lined pages, like it's taking effort to put the words down where someone else could read it.
Eventually though, he does have to leave, and he can be found in the dining hall picking at the food on his plate with a lot less interest and enthusiasm than usual, or out on deck smoking and - literally - staring off into space. He lingers around the door of the chapel, but hesitates instead of going in. He hasn't felt comfortable stepping inside since what happened to Dillon in there.]
[Gene steps out of the Enclosure feeling unclean, like he needs to lock himself in the bathroom and shower for weeks to get the grime of that place off him. That's actually what he does first, retreating to his room so he can scrub his skin raw and collapse into a bed that's more comfortable than he's used to these days.
It's not until the next morning that he heads back to Snafu's room with an obvious tired slump to his shoulders. He'd slept, but doesn't really feel rested even if he doesn't remember if he'd dreamed at all. He has no idea what things were like for everyone else who wasn't trapped in the Enclosure, but the last time he'd been separated from the people left on board, they'd been killed over and over again by the invading demons, or creatures, or whatever they were. It's enough to make him a little worried about what he's going to find when he opens the door and steps inside, looking for his friend.]
[Private to Jimmy, backdated]
[After he's slept, the first thing he does is check in on Jimmy, even if at first, he's not really sure what to say.
(There's something in him that sort of wants to say nothing at all for a while longer, but it's very easy to set that hollow ache aside to focus on making sure Jimmy's not hurting, too.)]
You okay?
[Public, Voice]
I'm helpin' Pounce out with the library. Meant to say somethin' earlier, but, [You can almost hear the small grimace.
He winds up leaving it at that, because it's not like anyone really requires any explanation for what he's been up to.]
If anyone needs me, I'll be doin' some reshelving.
[Open Spam]
[And that's exactly what he does. Most of the rest of his day is spent in the library, reshelving books and just kind of losing himself in the stacks. It's usually quiet in here, and there's enough to keep him busy that he can more or less focus on the task at hand instead of getting caught up in his own head.
More or less.
At some point, he does retreat to a corner and pull out the by now slightly battered notebook Steve got him for Christmas, writing deliberately on the lined pages, like it's taking effort to put the words down where someone else could read it.
Eventually though, he does have to leave, and he can be found in the dining hall picking at the food on his plate with a lot less interest and enthusiasm than usual, or out on deck smoking and - literally - staring off into space. He lingers around the door of the chapel, but hesitates instead of going in. He hasn't felt comfortable stepping inside since what happened to Dillon in there.]
[text]
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you?
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it SUCKED 4 us
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[private, text]
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no subject
How are you?
private
private
Gene, I can tell you're not fine. I'm coming over, unless you tell me right now that you don't want me to.
private
spam
Hey.
spam
spam
spam
(no subject)
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voice.
voice.
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Private
[ He's not great at friendly.]
Private
Private Eugene Sledge.
Private
Private
[He spends a lot of time in there, but then again, the ornithology part tends to be kind of deserted.]
Private
[ He admits with a shrug.]
Private
Spam - Deck
He still looks pretty beat up from some misadventures the previous day. His left cheek is a lot pinker than the other, and there's a bruise across his cheekbone that is pretty much exactly commensurate with being punched in the face. Still, he smiles as he sidles up.]
Alright. Got a fag goin' spare?
[At the moment, his smoking relapse involves limiting himself to cigarettes he steals off other people.]
Spam - Deck
And, predictably, the first thing he comments on is the state of his friend's face.]
What happened?
Spam
Bit of a scrap in the Enclosure. Nothing I wasn't lookin' for, no worries.
Run out of books to shelve?
Spam
Gene's quiet for a moment, fiddling with his cigarette before glancing over at Eggsy again.] Jimmy said he was with you durin' the thing.
Spam
...Yeah. Yeah, he was. You're his warden, ain't you?
Spam
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Re: Spam
Spam