Deacon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ersatzeverything) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-07-17 03:45 pm
ersatzeverything) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-07-17 03:45 pm
First prompt [OPEN]; second prompt [CLOSED TO WILLIAM]
Who: Deacon and William; Deacon and OPEN
When: A few days after the battle with the Caducans
Where: Around Moira and Nomo 001 (William's room)
What: An evil demon mask is causing problems. Also, Deacon lies too much.
Warnings:References to prior violence
[A: OPEN]
[He's been having nightmares every fucking time he tries to sleep. He blames it on what happened with the Caducans. Sure, that wasn't the first time he's seen an op go sour, people get killed, but this wasn't an op, it was a massacre. There should have been a way to avoid it. Shoulda coulda woulda.
As a general rule, Deacon tries not to dwell on the past. Thinking too much about shit that went wrong is a one-way trip to crazy town and losing yourself in booze or chems of the barrel of a gun, desperately trying to escape bitterness and regret in the face of a harsh and unfair universe. It’s fucking hard, though, when it feels like the memories are actively chasing him. Sometimes when it’s quiet he swears he can hear his wife’s voice, even though she’s been dead for over twenty years now.
For the third time this week he wakes up in a cold sweat. He gives up on sleep and throws on a Moira uniform to wander the hallways restlessly and as anonymously as he can in the small community of the ship, hoping to find some booze and a quiet corner amidst the wreckage of glass.]
[B: CLOSED TO WILLIAM]
[During one of his sleepless excursions, Deacon knocks on the door of William’s room. Shades hide the dark circles under his eyes and his wig covers the red stubble on his head. He usually sleeps during the day, so he’s not worried about waking William’s roommates.]
Room service!
[He calls out in a bright and chipper voice.]
When: A few days after the battle with the Caducans
Where: Around Moira and Nomo 001 (William's room)
What: An evil demon mask is causing problems. Also, Deacon lies too much.
Warnings:References to prior violence
[A: OPEN]
[He's been having nightmares every fucking time he tries to sleep. He blames it on what happened with the Caducans. Sure, that wasn't the first time he's seen an op go sour, people get killed, but this wasn't an op, it was a massacre. There should have been a way to avoid it. Shoulda coulda woulda.
As a general rule, Deacon tries not to dwell on the past. Thinking too much about shit that went wrong is a one-way trip to crazy town and losing yourself in booze or chems of the barrel of a gun, desperately trying to escape bitterness and regret in the face of a harsh and unfair universe. It’s fucking hard, though, when it feels like the memories are actively chasing him. Sometimes when it’s quiet he swears he can hear his wife’s voice, even though she’s been dead for over twenty years now.
For the third time this week he wakes up in a cold sweat. He gives up on sleep and throws on a Moira uniform to wander the hallways restlessly and as anonymously as he can in the small community of the ship, hoping to find some booze and a quiet corner amidst the wreckage of glass.]
[B: CLOSED TO WILLIAM]
[During one of his sleepless excursions, Deacon knocks on the door of William’s room. Shades hide the dark circles under his eyes and his wig covers the red stubble on his head. He usually sleeps during the day, so he’s not worried about waking William’s roommates.]
Room service!
[He calls out in a bright and chipper voice.]
no subject
Okay, I'm not gonna lie [pointed, but teasing look] and say that it doesn't sometimes get tiring, but...
[He trails off, unsure of how to explain it, before shrugging his shoulders and continuing.]
I trust you enough to know you're not any of those things. We've fought together, we took down the Institute together, took down the a goddamn armored brotherhood ship - I think by now I know that you're not a baby eating mime. Besides, you like to help people, it's one of the reasons I haven't killed you yet.
[He was being too serious for a moment there.]
no subject
...
Maybe I'm a remorseful baby eating mime, trying to make up for my old silent, baby-eating ways. What then, huh? I could backslide at any moment. Good thing you're not a baby. Or an invisible wall.
[Okay, maybe getting off topic there. Or avoiding the topic more like. He does that. Even when he brought up the topic to begin with.]
Most people, when they make a friend, they want to feel like they know who it is they're friends with.
no subject
What's this all about, anyway?
[Because it's easier to ask than to sit here and explain why he trusts and even considers a pathological liar a friend.]
no subject
Also, the boss said I was lying too much.
[Still sort of evading the question. Come on, Deacon, make a true, factual statement about the topic at hand.]
I maybe pissed some people off. People I was sort of kind of feeling out as friends.
no subject
Not surprise in Deacon pissing someone off, of course. That's to be expected. Just surprised now that he's putting it all together.]
Well, it was only a matter of time, wasn't it? [William is helpful.] I imagine one of your silly white lies isn't what pissed them off, is it?
[Because Deacon's lies were mostly bullshit and easy to see through. Sure, that could piss someone off, but enough that Deacon is here having this conversation to him? Must have been a bigger one.]
no subject