[Did Hanna make sure he shot a message over the day of pairings because he'd been watching and waiting to see who David got? Definitely. Guy could really be misunderstood even after the well detailed instruction Saga had left behind.]
Hey dude, hope this message finds you well enough. Heard you got my buddy Terminator with the roll of the Admiral's dice.
I know Saga left some shit on his ledger, but if you need anything, let me know. We're tight so I don't mind helping out.
I'm Hanna by the way, Hanna Cross. Don't believe we've met yet.
[Oh, that's a surprise. He's not familiar with this one, but then- that was a lot of people here on the Barge. But the things he was saying...dude? Terminator? That was a lot of words he didn't really know.]
Um, yes, this is Oscar? I assume...you're speaking of David?
Oscar: just letting you know to be a bit wary of your friend Vash. He's... volatile, at least at the moment. And I'd rather you didn't get hurt just because you're trying to help him.
Oscar probably could have gone back home a couple of days ago. He's up, he's fine, he's functioning normally other than some lingering throat soreness and a few body aches.
...but at the same time, if he had, he probably wouldn't be getting kissed into the couch, his collar popped open so John can press more kisses along the column of his throat.
Oscar had stayed for John. He had stayed, despite having his voice no longer a whisper, his body only aching a little, John still needed someone. It was an excuse to hold him, kiss his hair, read together, let John feel anchored with a steady heartbeat.
Not that he was feeling very steady just then. He had sunk easily into the couch, tilting his head back and fumbling with his shirt.
And nearly cursed, settling for yanking his shirt out of his pants. His hand felt shaky, but it wasn't from recovery. Just nerves from the heat he felt from kissing a god.
[Varker has finally made his way back to his office following the ooze, though its a bit cleared out since he is very obviously moving.
He sends a quick message to Oscar, around when he thinks he might be finishing up his rounds at the pool and sits at his desk, frames unmoved, with the barbed wire wrapped bow of rebar setting in front of him.
Most of Lullabees things are out of the room, along with her, though he has left a bed or two, in case he works in here and decides to bring her with him.]
Oscar, if you're...free, I'd like to speak with you. In my office, if that's alright.
...Oscar will wake up to a warm body in the bed with him and soft lips kissing and nuzzling against his jaw, breasts pressing soft against his upper arm as a hand drifts to play in the soft hair on his chest.
...well this was not a way he expected to wake up. His eyes fluttered open, peeking to see who it was, before they fluttered closed. Of course his cabin door was still locked. And it was John, lovely as ever.
He moved to catch her lips in a kiss, his arm moving to wrap around her.
Kahl steps lightly; John is already unhappy with him. But he does find an evening when Oscar is returning to his cabin alone. Kahl cannot make himself invisible any longer, but he takes the shape of a tiny tawny grasshopper mouse, and scurries through the open door just behind Oscar's heels. He darts under the nearest piece of low furniture, and settles in, small and silent, to wait until Oscar goes to sleep.
Kahl waits, and walks, slipping into the realm of dreams. He doesn't do anything to Oscar at all, except join him, a small watching creature, looking to see what dreams he has all on his own.
Re: backdated to ~shortly~ after Vincent and Oscar were paired
The dreams he possesses at first are formless and dark, nothing out of the ordinary. Dreams forming like clouds.
But after some time, the nightmares gather. It is at this point a scar on his psyche- and one that always brings fresh terror. To those who who are not familiar with dreams, it appears to be bits and pieces.
Whispers- bricked up walls- someone he dearly loves terrified and hurt- a bloody hammer- arms grabbing him- the buzz of insects- he needs to find his brother- the axe, he needed the axe to-
In the real world, his body was tossing and turning, the terror obvious and the sounds he made were terrified moans, growing louder and louder. He would start screaming soon, from the way his chest was starting to heave.
Its been awkward since New years, but he hadnt meant to be avoidant all month. They'd seen each other, but sorting through what he did and maybe didn't want to be vulnerable about, well. He hasnt quite figured it out but has enough that he's bullied himself into at least showing up.
Which means he's knocking on Oscars door around ten in the evening, dressed for an evening in which consists of a matching set of silk lounge pants and robe and a pair of house shoes that rarely sees any time outside of his shared cabin.
His other hand is in his robe pocket, clutching a bag of assorted sweets.
It's been a crazy month- there were people falling asleep, then the breach where he was a mafia boss which- while he gained Maggie as a sister- still rattled him pretty badly. He didn't try to force Varker to see him, after their near sexual encounter.
He had missed him all the same.
When he heard the knock, he opened the door slightly- then paused, before opening it more, letting his baton go to settle against his wrist, where the band lay.
"Good evening Clement." He was surprised, and a little sleep mussed. Despite the room upgrades, his robes were a little shabby. So were his thin pajamas.
"Would you like to come in?"
He had no idea why he was here, really. Not a booty call. He looked too sober for that.
[Well, it's not like he expected Vincent to reply right away, but the ongoing lack of even having seen it worries him enough to go through more official channels.]
Oscar, hey. I-I don't know if you're feeling up to it just yet, but- Vincent's going to be a bit rough for a little while. I think he could use your presence.
[When Oscar sees the text message, he blanches. Closes his eyes, and carefully moves to text him back, not thinking of Vincent being able to see Oscar texting Varker back from where he'd been trying to read.]
Varker had slept in once thr Barge decided to stop torturing him. He won't admit it, but he might have cuddled Norton a little in the night and when he'd woke up, draped over him instead of a pillow, well.
It was a reminder that he should probably get his shit together. Its nearly dinner time when he manages, dressed properly for the first time in weeks, dark circles still under his eyes, but less hollow than they'd been.
Procrastination is still a part of him though, so as the day gets shorter, he finally finds himself standing at Oscars door, hands holding something behind his back after he knocks.
He had been having his fair share of problems with the flood, but he didn't let that slow him down. He kept working. The guilt he had was not as haunting as he supposed it was for most others.
He had been finishing off his tea, reading a book when the knock came. He went to the door, and opened it to find-
Ah.
His expression went from curious to polite, and he blinked, straightening at the sight of him.
He doesn't call ahead even if he actually could for ince, having stopped drinking sometime between lunch and dinner. It leaves him a little stiff, hoping he doesnt start sweating through his shirt or get too irritable, but Oscar had said sober.
Does he believe he can have this sort of talk sober? Not exactly, but Sheehan had lit a fire under his ass talking about making excuses, not letting shit pass him by, and he couldn't stop thinking about it.
He has a jar of pond water in one hand, his other used to knock on the door before he crosses them and leans against the wall to wait for an answer.
Oscar tended to have some quiet nights. Thankfully not as early as before, but he didn't want to stick around the Lounge for socializing. He'd embarrassed himself enough lately, thank you.
But when he came to the door, Oscar was dressed down, wearing his reading glasses, and looked rather cozy in his housecoat and slippers.
"Oh, Clement." He smiled tentatively, and tilted his head. Checking, it seemed, to see how sober his friend was. "This is a surprise. Did you want some tea?"
No more nightcaps. But he now had an amazing tea selection, thanks to John.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Voice - pairing day
Hey dude, hope this message finds you well enough. Heard you got my buddy Terminator with the roll of the Admiral's dice.
I know Saga left some shit on his ledger, but if you need anything, let me know. We're tight so I don't mind helping out.
I'm Hanna by the way, Hanna Cross. Don't believe we've met yet.
Re: Voice - pairing day
Um, yes, this is Oscar? I assume...you're speaking of David?
It's a pleasure, Mr Cross.
Re: Voice - pairing day
Re: Voice - pairing day
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after the greenhouse
Oscar: just letting you know to be a bit wary of your friend Vash. He's... volatile, at least at the moment. And I'd rather you didn't get hurt just because you're trying to help him.
Re: after the greenhouse
[He's startled at the call, but what John tells him is concerning.]
John? What happened? Are you all right?
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after the sebassacre
Re: after the sebassacre
But feeling the presence, he coughed, and pushed his hair out of his eyes.]
Who's there...?
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sebassacre post toll | mid-to-late- august
...but at the same time, if he had, he probably wouldn't be getting kissed into the couch, his collar popped open so John can press more kisses along the column of his throat.
no subject
Not that he was feeling very steady just then. He had sunk easily into the couch, tilting his head back and fumbling with his shirt.
And nearly cursed, settling for yanking his shirt out of his pants. His hand felt shaky, but it wasn't from recovery. Just nerves from the heat he felt from kissing a god.
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Audio
He sends a quick message to Oscar, around when he thinks he might be finishing up his rounds at the pool and sits at his desk, frames unmoved, with the barbed wire wrapped bow of rebar setting in front of him.
Most of Lullabees things are out of the room, along with her, though he has left a bed or two, in case he works in here and decides to bring her with him.]
Oscar, if you're...free, I'd like to speak with you. In my office, if that's alright.
Re: Audio
Are the floors all clear of that...um. Mess?
[He's thankful that Saga warned him about it. He's sure John or someone has cleaned it by now, but he wants to be sure.]
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a few days after faeween, before the wedding
Re: a few days after faeween, before the wedding
He moved to catch her lips in a kiss, his arm moving to wrap around her.
Re: a few days after faeween, before the wedding
Re: a few days after faeween, before the wedding
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Re: a few days after faeween, before the wedding
Re: a few days after faeween, before the wedding
Re: a few days after faeween, before the wedding
Re: a few days after faeween, before the wedding
Re: a few days after faeween, before the wedding
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backdated to ~shortly~ after Vincent and Oscar were paired
Kahl waits, and walks, slipping into the realm of dreams. He doesn't do anything to Oscar at all, except join him, a small watching creature, looking to see what dreams he has all on his own.
Re: backdated to ~shortly~ after Vincent and Oscar were paired
But after some time, the nightmares gather. It is at this point a scar on his psyche- and one that always brings fresh terror. To those who who are not familiar with dreams, it appears to be bits and pieces.
Whispers- bricked up walls- someone he dearly loves terrified and hurt- a bloody hammer- arms grabbing him- the buzz of insects- he needs to find his brother- the axe, he needed the axe to-
In the real world, his body was tossing and turning, the terror obvious and the sounds he made were terrified moans, growing louder and louder. He would start screaming soon, from the way his chest was starting to heave.
Re: backdated to ~shortly~ after Vincent and Oscar were paired
Cw: self harm, amputation
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during his stay in the infirmary
Re: during his stay in the infirmary
Sorry. Thank you. Let me know if you need help with anything.
Re: during his stay in the infirmary
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no subject
Looks like the Admiral decided to drag me back instead of bringing someone shitty from Father Vincent's world. Lucky you.
Anyway, I'm fine. I know how this place works. You need anything?
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[He blows out a breath.]
Would you like to come over for a cup of coffee?
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post-breach
Re: post-breach
Hoping people don't see me as...Ozzie. Yourself?
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no subject
Which means he's knocking on Oscars door around ten in the evening, dressed for an evening in which consists of a matching set of silk lounge pants and robe and a pair of house shoes that rarely sees any time outside of his shared cabin.
His other hand is in his robe pocket, clutching a bag of assorted sweets.
no subject
He had missed him all the same.
When he heard the knock, he opened the door slightly- then paused, before opening it more, letting his baton go to settle against his wrist, where the band lay.
"Good evening Clement." He was surprised, and a little sleep mussed. Despite the room upgrades, his robes were a little shabby. So were his thin pajamas.
"Would you like to come in?"
He had no idea why he was here, really. Not a booty call. He looked too sober for that.
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After Hanna's announcement
Oscar, hey. I-I don't know if you're feeling up to it just yet, but- Vincent's going to be a bit rough for a little while. I think he could use your presence.
Re: After Hanna's announcement
[He sounds distracted for some reason. At least he doesn't sound drunk.]
I'll make sure he's safe it's just- Arthur, is this a flood? The last time I saw this many cats was at a fishmarket on a hot day.
Re: After Hanna's announcement
Re: After Hanna's announcement
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Text
I mss u
[It doesn't take long for the next one to come along.]
com see m?
Re: Text
You're drunk
Please go have some water and rest.
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Post-flood
It was a reminder that he should probably get his shit together. Its nearly dinner time when he manages, dressed properly for the first time in weeks, dark circles still under his eyes, but less hollow than they'd been.
Procrastination is still a part of him though, so as the day gets shorter, he finally finds himself standing at Oscars door, hands holding something behind his back after he knocks.
If he's sweating already, no he's not.
Re: Post-flood
He had been finishing off his tea, reading a book when the knock came. He went to the door, and opened it to find-
Ah.
His expression went from curious to polite, and he blinked, straightening at the sight of him.
"Dr Varker. What can I do for you?"
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After dinner unannounced
Does he believe he can have this sort of talk sober? Not exactly, but Sheehan had lit a fire under his ass talking about making excuses, not letting shit pass him by, and he couldn't stop thinking about it.
He has a jar of pond water in one hand, his other used to knock on the door before he crosses them and leans against the wall to wait for an answer.
Re: After dinner unannounced
But when he came to the door, Oscar was dressed down, wearing his reading glasses, and looked rather cozy in his housecoat and slippers.
"Oh, Clement." He smiled tentatively, and tilted his head. Checking, it seemed, to see how sober his friend was. "This is a surprise. Did you want some tea?"
No more nightcaps. But he now had an amazing tea selection, thanks to John.
Re: After dinner unannounced
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