Oswald Wuthridge (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ossie_oswald) wrote2022-06-14 07:18 pm
ossie_oswald) wrote2022-06-14 07:18 pm
Entry tags:
Come Sail Away Inbox
"Send me a kiss by wire~"
I assure you being a person is completely optional.
But I get what you mean, keep me posted, ready when you (and one or two others) are 👍👍
But I get what you mean, keep me posted, ready when you (and one or two others) are 👍👍
the fuck????
aight fuck him then
is he still around? i havent seen giles in a while
or not!giles i guess
u ok?
need anything?
want me 2 kill him?
aight fuck him then
is he still around? i havent seen giles in a while
or not!giles i guess
u ok?
need anything?
want me 2 kill him?
pleaseA couple of minutes later.
Sorry, sorry, I'm still recovering from
Well
Coming back from the bally dead.
I have the worst crick in my back.
Apparently the bastard just left me on the floor.
You have my apologies, and please, don't put yourself in harm's way for my sake.
He's dangerous, and frankly a brute to boot.
Stay safe.got in a bigass fight with not!Sharky so i get it
ruined my uniform with blood :(
but neither of us died
what the hell did he kill you for?
like whats the point?
they just show up and take over peoples bodies and kill people and send weird notes in the hallways
i was dead for seventeen years & im fucked up in the head and i didnt kill anyone when i showed up here
dont know what their problem is
ill be safe
but if i see him
its on.
ruined my uniform with blood :(
but neither of us died
what the hell did he kill you for?
like whats the point?
they just show up and take over peoples bodies and kill people and send weird notes in the hallways
i was dead for seventeen years & im fucked up in the head and i didnt kill anyone when i showed up here
dont know what their problem is
ill be safe
but if i see him
its on.
Who else would the others be? Anyone I know?
Because as you might imagine that will impact the level of person I expect myself to be before participating.Good news if you're worried about your appearance: One of them is blind, and the other dresses like he might as well be. Also he's from space.
Do the names Arthur Lester or something Crichton ring a bell?
*John Crichton, that's it
Anyway given the week those two have also been having and what they've been through already, it's going to be an extremely informal affair. The goals are to get hammered and holler into the microphone until we feel better, if that affects your expectations at all.
Do the names Arthur Lester or something Crichton ring a bell?
*John Crichton, that's it
Anyway given the week those two have also been having and what they've been through already, it's going to be an extremely informal affair. The goals are to get hammered and holler into the microphone until we feel better, if that affects your expectations at all.
1 giles hiding from me or mayb from evryhting if you see him first tell him im worried and hes wellcom in the cabn annytime
2 theres somehting i otta tell you about but its absolootly not erjant but pleas when you get a moment?
2 theres somehting i otta tell you about but its absolootly not erjant but pleas when you get a moment?
Ossie wakes up from death for the second time this month, sighs to himself, and... lays there. For another hour. All that and he died of a stray gunshot. Christ. Still, if Bash seems to think that Giles is back to himself, then that's a relief, right? It should be a relief. The parts he's unable to handle are over, now it is the hours of rebuilding and healing that make up the whole reason a Freehold retains Spring to begin with.
At 7:20, Bash gets his response.
At 7:20, Bash gets his response.
Bash
I'll pass the message right along, and I'll be round in a jiff.
Coffee?
Ossiei wood love you forever for it. but don't rush if your not up for this.
An hour or so later, there's a knock at Bash's door. Ossie back in one of his comfortable tweed suits, with two coffees and a small bag of pastries for breakfast. He looks tired, noticeably so.
Bash, of course, also looks fucking tired. But he's washed his face, changed into a tank top and jeans, tucked his hair back into a ponytail.
"Hey, handsome. You handling?" He waves Ossie into the room.
"Hey, handsome. You handling?" He waves Ossie into the room.
"I believe I have what you need," Ossie shakes the paper bag in the manner of enticing a cat with treats and makes his way into the room.
"I recalled trying a Vietnamese origin blend on a date once back home that was quite diverting- still not much of a coffee drinker, mind you, but the beazel I was with insisted I try some, so I did. It was quite lovely; surprisingly nutty, as I recall, with touch of smoke, so that's what I ordered for you. Tried to, in any case, you may well have ended up with the house blend, I'm unsure if the cafe works with the same rules as the bars do."
Ossie sits himself down on the couch and sets the pastries atop the bag on the coffee table.
"I recalled trying a Vietnamese origin blend on a date once back home that was quite diverting- still not much of a coffee drinker, mind you, but the beazel I was with insisted I try some, so I did. It was quite lovely; surprisingly nutty, as I recall, with touch of smoke, so that's what I ordered for you. Tried to, in any case, you may well have ended up with the house blend, I'm unsure if the cafe works with the same rules as the bars do."
Ossie sits himself down on the couch and sets the pastries atop the bag on the coffee table.
"To be fair, I just ended up with a small collection of 'the good shit' coffees from one of those, uh, weird presents from Sundries? I'm actually planning on putting together a tasting for folks who's interested, once I'm feeling up to it. I promised to let Ava try peaberry if I ever got my hands on any. But for now, this'll be perfect, whatever it is."
Small talk. Pleasantries. And yet he can't help the almost guilty little glances he keeps giving Ossie. Because like with Crichton, he doesn't expect this to turn into a thing, but on some level, he almost wants to be held accountable for what he did.
Small talk. Pleasantries. And yet he can't help the almost guilty little glances he keeps giving Ossie. Because like with Crichton, he doesn't expect this to turn into a thing, but on some level, he almost wants to be held accountable for what he did.
"Sign me up for it. I'd be more than happy to attend."
Bash seems... fidgety, and Ossie tilts his head a little as he takes a little cream tartlet to eat with his tea.
"What was it that you needed to talk to me about, old thing?"
Bash seems... fidgety, and Ossie tilts his head a little as he takes a little cream tartlet to eat with his tea.
"What was it that you needed to talk to me about, old thing?"
"Last night, after things got hairy...you know. Fight like that, you grab for anything you can, right? Use whatever's at hand. And one of the things I used...uh. Was you. I raised your body as a zombie, and. Used you to help me take out the scrap riding Jeff, because he was focused on me and not whatever else was around him. I'm sorry, I know that's not...right, to just raise people like that. It's not going to mean anything in the long run, you're not tied to me, and I really wish I could promise I'm never going to need to do that again."
And he physically braces for an angry reaction.
And he physically braces for an angry reaction.
Ah.
Ossie takes... a very deep breath, in the manner of someone struggling to be the bigger person. Because of course he's angry. Being used for someone else's purposes is the fundamental trauma of the Lost, as universal as birth.
But he can't snap like that, not when Bash is already cringing like a scolded hound. In some cases, what the person puts theirself through is more painful than any punishment that could be imagined. A punishment ends, but you have to live with yourself forever.
"You know, I've been used as furniture before, but they got my consent for that first, wot. This is... a first."
He pinches at the bridge of his nose wearily.
"I'm- please, if you will, just give me a moment to sort out how I'm feeling."
Ossie takes... a very deep breath, in the manner of someone struggling to be the bigger person. Because of course he's angry. Being used for someone else's purposes is the fundamental trauma of the Lost, as universal as birth.
But he can't snap like that, not when Bash is already cringing like a scolded hound. In some cases, what the person puts theirself through is more painful than any punishment that could be imagined. A punishment ends, but you have to live with yourself forever.
"You know, I've been used as furniture before, but they got my consent for that first, wot. This is... a first."
He pinches at the bridge of his nose wearily.
"I'm- please, if you will, just give me a moment to sort out how I'm feeling."
There's a bit of a flinch. "Of course. However long you need."
He reaches for the coffee, finally, wrapping both hands around the cup, but not taking a sip yet.
On some level, there's something reassuring about the anger. Because he'd be angry too, if it was his body. He's so very aware of what a violation it is, how horrible it is for Sirena to do it casually, and here he's done it twice in a month. And as ridiculous as it is, the thought crosses his mind that he could end up addicted to making zombies.
That's not how it works. He knows that's not how it works. But when your mind is beating you up in the most irrational manner, it takes whatever fish it can get.
He reaches for the coffee, finally, wrapping both hands around the cup, but not taking a sip yet.
On some level, there's something reassuring about the anger. Because he'd be angry too, if it was his body. He's so very aware of what a violation it is, how horrible it is for Sirena to do it casually, and here he's done it twice in a month. And as ridiculous as it is, the thought crosses his mind that he could end up addicted to making zombies.
That's not how it works. He knows that's not how it works. But when your mind is beating you up in the most irrational manner, it takes whatever fish it can get.
It takes Ossie a good long moment. And a chocolate croissant, that he manages to somehow eat without dispersing flaky pastry crumbs everywhere.
"I... know you've said that you can't promise you won't need to do that again. But I will ask you to. I... need you to Pledge to me that you won't do it again. Not right this moment, I'll ask you to give me a moment to draft it properly so that you don't get a raw deal of it. But I cannot abide imagining that myself or Giles or Erin could be used like this again. Ever."
"I... know you've said that you can't promise you won't need to do that again. But I will ask you to. I... need you to Pledge to me that you won't do it again. Not right this moment, I'll ask you to give me a moment to draft it properly so that you don't get a raw deal of it. But I cannot abide imagining that myself or Giles or Erin could be used like this again. Ever."
Bash takes a deep breath, and finally sips his coffee before nodding. "That's a fair ask."
And it is. Truly, it is.
"Also, this is definitely the Vietnamese." He's got more thoughts on the coffee, but this is so not at all the fucking time.
And it is. Truly, it is.
"Also, this is definitely the Vietnamese." He's got more thoughts on the coffee, but this is so not at all the fucking time.
"I'm glad to hear it."
Ossie digs about in his jacket for a pen and notebook. He spends a couple of minutes drafting a pledge that your humble author is too braindead to draft out in full presently. The gist is a promise that Bash will not re-animate either himself, Erin, or Giles without their prior expressed permission, in exchange for a promise for whatever assistance Ossie can render when called upon. Should either break the pledge, their own sorceries will turn against them.
"Will this suffice?"
Ossie digs about in his jacket for a pen and notebook. He spends a couple of minutes drafting a pledge that your humble author is too braindead to draft out in full presently. The gist is a promise that Bash will not re-animate either himself, Erin, or Giles without their prior expressed permission, in exchange for a promise for whatever assistance Ossie can render when called upon. Should either break the pledge, their own sorceries will turn against them.
"Will this suffice?"
He spends a long moment staring at the page. And then he glances up at Ossie, shame compounding on guilt. His cheeks flare with warm color that spreads all the way out to his ears.
"Can, uh. Can you read it aloud to me? I don't wanna...miss something. Mess it up."
"Can, uh. Can you read it aloud to me? I don't wanna...miss something. Mess it up."
"Fuck!"
Ossie smacks himself in the forehead, then dutifully repeats the entire thing, pausing and reiterating or rephrasing as necessary.
"I cannot be sorry enough, honestly- that was thoughtless and careless of me. Please, don't take it as a deliberate slight against you, the error was unforced and entirely on me."
Ossie smacks himself in the forehead, then dutifully repeats the entire thing, pausing and reiterating or rephrasing as necessary.
"I cannot be sorry enough, honestly- that was thoughtless and careless of me. Please, don't take it as a deliberate slight against you, the error was unforced and entirely on me."
"It's alright, I know I'm..." The sentence trails off into nothing at all. There's another sip of coffee that sits heavy in his mouth.
"But, yeah. I can agree to be bound by this."
"But, yeah. I can agree to be bound by this."
"It's not a failing of yours at all, dear fellow."
But Ossie extends his hand to bind the Pledge regardless.
But Ossie extends his hand to bind the Pledge regardless.
"Agree to disagree on that."
Bash takes the offered hand, his skin cooler than might have been expected, especially given how he's been holding that coffee cup.
"I truly am sorry for what I did, Ossie."
Bash takes the offered hand, his skin cooler than might have been expected, especially given how he's been holding that coffee cup.
"I truly am sorry for what I did, Ossie."
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