_a||force||u n c o n t e s t e d__jimmy

[Cap'n Sankari V.]

Had she become herself again? Or was there no self left to become after a year and some change of becoming something else? Could she find herself a nice home after the fight was over? She grins, though there is no one to see it -- amused with herself, with the little girl she found she had to continually squash under the heel of her boot. Every time the face looked up, tears in her eyes. Every time Sankari didn't hesitate and crushed the face against the ground and walked on, and on, and on. There was no room for hesitation anymore. There never had been, and it had taken her arm to make her realize the truth.

There was no saving the world. Only death could obliterate the evil that had crept into the voids of warmth and erase all of this corruption. Afterward? There was no afterward. Only the darkness that she had embraced, only the death she had dealt out, and will continue to deal out, in spades. Let them hate her -- she became a thing to hate for the sake of all this death, for the sake of uniting humanity together and bonding them in the way they should be bonded. Hero, she had wanted to be. Killer, she is called now. Enemy. Even her crew crept around her as if they walked with glass in their shoes, ever careful of the blood they spilled in their wake, lest she get their scent and the chase is on.

Was she just a bitch in heat, searching for another outlet to erase her pain? Was there anything left of herself before the end? Did it matter? This is the night, but the day is coming, and coming faster -- light glitters along the cieling, chasing away the darkness, the worries, the epidemic of ghosts that follow at her heels, breathing down her neck. In the daylight, she was no longer maniacal. She was no longer out of control, blindingly striking out. Now, with the light making the shadows longer in a game only the sunrise understood, she could trace her goals along the widths of her fingers -- she could lean back in her chair and ponder the ways in which she could move her pawns, her beloved people. Ponder, as she holds the little wooden cube in her hand, tipping it on it's side, her thoughts far from where she sat.

It was as if her soul had projected far, reaching further than the fading stars and into eternity. Was morning when they should strike? Or was evening a better time? When would they be blind? Her thoughts are swirling down the drain, the time ticking away with each little thunk of the wood turning on it's side. How many times will she move it, as she moves all her pawns? How many times before even this favored object, this stupid little piece of her desk that had come undone, lose it's usefulness? Her thoughts become an explosion of purpose and ideas, throwing up in her veins and circulating there. Did she breathe fumes? Or was it oil that she craved to loosen the stiffening of her joints.

How old had she become during the night? Was her hair as white as she thought? Or was that just the light playing with the dark black that coiled over her shoulders? Sankari is full of questions, and without an outlet they simply simmer and burn, running out of steam and falling away into obscurity. Her eyes are heavy lidded, but that is simple a characteristic of her nature, and nothing at all on the sleepless night she had found for herself.

Better now, than she had been when she had left the cook. Better now, than with the other one hanging around. Her pupils reflect the emotionlessness of her stoicism; round as plates and devouring the blue in her eyes. Who was she waiting for? Why was she waiting? "He'll come... eventually." and the cube ticked over to the side, her finger pushing it gently over the edge. Poison circled her mind. His expression bright in her imagination.

Everything would be settled today. Everything had to be settled; there was no more time to simply sit and wait. No more time to just allow the government to send more spies on her deck. Stifling a yawn, the Captain of the S.S. Freedom remained otherwise still, knowing that eventually, like all things, everything she ever fathomed or needed would come running right into her arms to be used, abused, and tossed aside.

Pre-destined. Or simply crazed.

word count;; 771
tags;; slimjim
OOC;; w00tage <3

[Jimmy Terranova]

Sleep was usually so easy. It was just lying down and letting go, allowing everything to slip from your mind and falling down into the depths of dreaming. Tonight, though, was different. Jimmy could be described as about as responsive as a piece of driftwood when he was asleep. He fell into it quickly and deeply, it was unusual for him to wake at all, though it had been known. One way to wake him up was to try and touch him. Even though he wasn’t bothered by personal space when he was awake, when sleeping he had a strange perception of his own little bubble. Enter it and he was awake and ready to get you out of it. Why had he awoken earlier? It had been a sound that had woken him, but sounds didn’t usually get him up. He’d been known to sleep soundly while people practically shouted in his ear. Was it fate? That wasn’t something Jimmy liked to believe in, but in the dark, alone with his mind, he couldn’t help letting the thought creep in.

After his meeting with the captain, Jimmy had made his way back down to the lower deck. He wasn’t sure quite how to react. The events had still been clear in his head as he lay there, struggling to let them fall away so he could sleep. He didn’t know how he reacted, how he should have reacted, how he should be reacting in the morning when he met with the captain again. It was a long while before he could sleep again. When he did sleep it was deep, but plagued by vague dreams, visions of people, none of them as he knew them. The rooms they inhabited were overcrowded and hard to navigate, the people always seemed too close. They were all wrong somehow, from his mother’s exhibition of calm strength of will to his old bosses cryptic ramblings. He woke several times. He wasn’t jolted awake, more swam vaguely upward, groggily opening his eyes, half registering his surroundings, then drifting back into the depths of sleep, back with the people he didn’t quite know.

The last time he awoke was just like the others; he was only half-conscious, barely moving, about to drop off again when he remembered what he had to do this morning. This time he did awake fully with a jolt, practically standing in one motion, Jimmy ended up almost falling to the floor in his attempt to get up. Sorting himself out as best he could, Jimmy took a little extra time to dress properly, putting his jacket on and his headband to keep the hair from his eyes. He still felt tired. It hadn’t exactly been a restful night for him. Willing himself to wake up enough to speak coherently, the cook headed for the upper level, then out on to the deck. It was rather late, it seems. The sun was up, sort of. It was still partially hidden behind the horizon. That counted as ‘dawn’, right? He hoped so, if the captain was anything like she had been last night it could be trouble for him. Hell, it could be trouble for him even is she was her usual self.

Stopping for a moment, Jimmy leant against a mast, covering his eyes with his hands and giving a low groan. It wasn’t because of his lateness, he could talk his way out of that… probably. It was the fact that he felt exhausted. He had a full day ahead of him, assuming it didn’t end along with his life when he showed up at the captain’s cabin. This was not a good start to it. Hopefully he would be able to take a rest at some point. It was going to be one of those days wasn’t it? Still, better get it started. It wasn’t so bad when you were busy or fearing for your life, things went by quicker then. Reaching the door of the cabin, Jimmy paused for a moment yet again, preparing himself, trying to make himself presentable. He probably looked about as good as he had last night when the two had met. Preparing himself as best he could, Jimmy gave a solid knock on the door. Taking a moment to look on the bright side, Jimmy thought that it would at least be easier to keep people out of his galley for the day. Tiredness plus stress makes one angry cook; not someone you want to mess with. Still, he wasn’t sure why he had been invited here. It was possible that she had forgotten, she had been in quite a state after all. That was what he hoped, but he didn’t really believe it, not fully anyway. With any luck it would be better than what he’d imagined.

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Tagged: Cap’n!
Words: 805
Note: it’s… passable I guess

[Cap'n Sankari V.]

Who knew if it would actually be better than he imagined? What were his thoughts on death? On simple massacre? Little did he know the Captain's thoughts -- the spiral she had followed, grown to such a terrible proportion. Would he help? He had inspired the idea; but Sankari was much herself again. Or as much as herself as she had ever felt. The little tingle in the back of her neck reminded her of the rats that came to watch her at night. It reminded her of her precious crew, tip toeing around her shadow, afraid and hating her. Sometimes loving her. Mostly not. Most definitely not. Her smile is sardonic, meant only for herself -- for the lights that played across her wall, making shapes that embodied the path of her own thoughts.

Was there any tact in the way she would ask? Or would she trample him down, push him even further into a corner? She had unnerved him -- of that, she knew. There was a certain hilarity in the image she horded of Jimmy readying to defend himself against her. As if he had a chance. As if she had a chance against him in the state she was in. Everything was pulsing, hurting, ripping apart from the inside out, and there was only a little while longer before she folded under the pressure of gravity -- but until then, until that time came when her arm completely unhinged itself from the worn knob of her shoulder, she wouldn't spend it hesitating. Not when it mattered.

On her own ship were they conspiring to throw her over board? Had she truly isolated herself? An alien. A machine, nothing more -- certainly much, much less. Her lips are moving, murmuring phrases in silence she heard from the others when they didn't know she lingered, when they didn't take note of the shadow that crossed their path. Should she kill them? These are the things she ponders, when she stares. These are the ponderous circles that wrap around her throat and strangle her at night. Where is her hesitation? Her humanity? She lost it months ago. Years ago. It felt like decades had stretched out between her former self, and the one that currently sits in this chair. The one that waits like a patient cat -- a cat with no taste for playing, no mockery, or trickery. Only brutal, honest truth. Only the fact that she would kill, if she must.

Would she kill him the moment he walked in the door? Did he deserve it? She thinks slowly, wonderfully aware that time was creeping forward, that the burning in her soles had crept up the long line of her calves and up into her thighs. She felt rushed, pressured; in need to moving, of planning, of changing the pieces laid out before her on the chess board. But the chess board was more like a minefield.

Sankari had to carefully pick and choose where she would place each individual, or find herself stranded -- unless, and yes, it was this particular unless that had her wasting precious energy on pacing. It was this unless that had found it's way into her heart while she had drank away the shadows and the guilt, had drowned the girl who had felt sick at the death, and embraced the harpy that felt nothing at all. Was she better now? Hunger had gone. She was no longer human -- instead a bug, shedding the skin that had formerly contained it. was her skin left somewhere aboard the ship? How many times must she shed before even the screaming stopped?

Was it insane to laugh quietly at her own agony? Or was it sense, and nothing more, to make light of such a dire circumstance? How long, after all, did she have before everything inside of her unraveled and she had no more will to keep walking? What then? Would the Linear woman walk away, and all those men and women who had brutalized her life continue on with their happiness? No, no -- teeth gritted, Sankari tipped the little wooden piece over, watching shadows form and stretch beneath it. Her eyebrow lifts as the sound of approaching footsteps. One, two, pause.

The woman tilts her head, her hand coming up, propping up her chin as she waits, knowing the mouse will eventually reveal itself. Knowing that the mouse, no matter how afraid, still had a fang or two hidden amongst the shadows, waiting for the right time. Even this one, this precious little field mouse, coming to twitch it's nose at her feet. Even he had a bite that could harm, if she was careless -- so she waited, the slightest little smile curling the edges of her mouth as the time ticked on by, as the rustling continued, the pause stretching out into eternity.

Another moment, a heartbeat that ruptured the silence in her ears as he opens the door, enters the demon's lair, the dragon's den. Her smile is hollow, her eyes full of nothingness. What was it he saw? What was it he feared? Sankari didn't feel the need to reach out and try to pluck the thought from his head -- there was no need. Whatever it was he feared, it wouldn't be found here. Not yet, at the very least. Unless his morals were so vigorous that the concept he had inspired would rot in his mouth. "What's the best food to hide poison?" she asks into the silence, abruptly.

Why be tactful? She felt it was better to attack as she saw fit, to see his truest reaction -- would disgust be visible, or would he hide it so well she didn't know it even occurred to him to be disgusted? Would he be intrigued, or thoughtful? The array of emotions that could flit across his expression intrigued her. IT would tell her his worth -- would he do it? Or would he refuse? Could she make him, or would he rather kill himself than to give in to her demands? If so, would she?

Hah, hah ---- as if there was ever an option to simply let him go. The mouse had entered the den, let's see how very clever he turned out to be.

word count;; 1058
tags;; jimmy ~
OOC;; thwah!

[Jimmy Terranova]

Still groggy, barely awake, Jimmy wondered what had possessed the captain to schedule the meeting at dawn, of all times. Surely there were other times, and considering that both of them had been awake in the night, they would both be lacking sleep. Maybe that was the reason. Maybe she was testing how well he adhered to her commands. Maybe she wanted him tired. Why she would want that was not something Jimmy wanted to think too much into. Should he go in there armed? He might as well stab himself in the heart right now if he was to do that, considering that the likely outcome would be his death. Of course, if he did walk in there and suffer instant disembowelment or some other such fate he would be fairly annoyed with himself for not putting up a fight. Or, he would be if he weren’t dead. Still, if the captain wanted him dead she would probably do it no matter what his reaction was. Though, she probably would have done it last night if she really had wanted to, she didn’t seem to be one to mess about. To be honest, this meeting was almost a surprise. She could have just spoken to him then and there. So either she was doing this for some strange reason only she knew, or she had realized what a state she was in. Jimmy found himself hoping it was the latter. He’d had enough of tiptoeing around her and trying to make sense of what she was saying for a good while at least.

Silence emerged from behind the door as Jimmy stood waiting. He didn’t want to just enter uninvited. Not because of any sense of decency, but because the captain was not someone you wanted to walk in on without an invitation. Was she even in there? Had she given up waiting for him and stalked off to terrorize some other crewmembers? Or was she waiting for him, waiting for him to make a move? Sometimes she seemed to be toying with her crew, making them jump through hoops for her and analyzing their responses without them even realizing what they were doing. Surely she wasn’t quite as dead as she appeared on the outside. Surely there were some cogs turning inside her head, scheming against her own crew as well as against the enemy. She had showed her intelligence, no-one denied that. But did she see how much she set the crew on edge? Probably. Did she play on that, use it to her advantage? It was quite likely that she did. Should he play along? If he wanted to live, probably. Even if they were just games, the captain wasn’t known for looking kindly on failure. He would have to be more aware though, he thought to himself, he would have to play her games as best as he could. There was no point in trying to win, but trying to lose as little as possible was a realistic goal. She would test him, and he would show that he wasn’t just some scared dog like the rest of the crew, he was a cut above them, he was on to her. The first test was the door. She would be in there, and he would have to open the door to pass.

Even as his hand turned the handle, Jimmy felt himself drawing back a little, mentally preparing herself for some kind of retaliation to his intrusion. But none came, not even as he opened the door enough to peek his head inside. She was there alright, sat at her desk, chin in her hand. He entered the room fully, all movements controlled and deliberate. It wasn’t like him at all, Jimmy was used to winging it. He was the kind to just leap into a situation and hope he could make his way through unharmed. It had worked for him in the past, but it was different with her. She wasn’t an enemy he could fight or flee from. She was supposed to be his ally. She wasn’t supposed to be someone he had to battle with in any sense. Thinking for a moment, Jimmy mused on how amusing it would be if all of the captain’s actions were, in fact, purely coincidental. If he was the only player in this game, fighting a battle that didn’t really exist. He wouldn’t be laughing at the irony of it. In trying to play her game she would end up dictating his actions without even realizing it.

Fully in the room now, Jimmy closed the door behind him, though he didn’t want to. It was a game of chicken now. He wasn’t going to pull away first, he was going to take her stare and hold his ground, and he was bloody crazy to do so. ”You wanted to see me Captain?” Stupid question in itself, she had invited him personally, she wasn’t all that likely to forget so soon was she? Still, it was polite. He may be a player in her game now, but that didn’t suddenly make this reality any less perilous. At first she gave no response. Was she considering him, sizing him up anew? The eyes bore that same intelligence that had showed itself several times last night. Now though, the face matched them. She was herself again. Had she slept well? Had she slept at all? A small part of Jimmy’s mind imagined that she regained her energy by draining the blood of the innocent or something.

After a while she spoke. ‘Much to discuss’, eh? Did she consider this a discussion? Or was this merely the introduction to some scheme that would likely involve Jimmy being put in considerable danger. The question almost certainly had some reason behind it. The captain wasn’t likely to call him here for some obscure pop quiz on culinary warfare. But where exactly it led Jimmy could only guess at. None of his guesses boded well for him though. Still, it was an odd question to ask. He was more than a little surprised, and some of it surely showed for a moment or two, before he composed himself. It was something of a pointless question though. ”Well, where’s the best place to keep a piece of string? Pretty much any food can hide poison, if it’s presented right. It depends on what kind of poison you use really. If it’s powdered it can be disguised among spiced or garnish, if it’s a liquid it can go in sauce or soup. The hard part isn’t the food, it’s getting it there. I mean, unless you have invited someone to a meal, you’re going to have to get into the preparation area to plant it. And then there’s the matter of security around the person. Anyone worth poisoning is going to have people watching them, that could include staff members or even food tasters. The type of food isn’t really an issue. You could hide it in just about anything with a little creativity.” Jimmy had to praise himself, he sounded a lot more confident than he felt. Maybe he went a little too much into the subject though, anyone would think he’d considered this before. He wanted to come across as informative, and at the same time not look like he was just saying whatever he could to please her. He may have just shot himself in the foot though, if she thought he was good enough to put thought into the subject he may find himself in some poor soul’s kitchen before too long. Who knows, it could even be his last kitchen.

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Tagged: Cap’n Sankari
Words: 1280
Note: tiredness…