Come Sail Inbox

[breakaleginhalf]

Hey, it's Gil. Either I haven't got my phone on me, OR I'm actively ignoring you. Text me if it's important, try harder if you're dying. TEXT | VOICE | VIDEO | ACTION

Comments

text post-Daisy shitfight

[saltwaterlungs]

congrats on your first loud messy hallway argument
youre part of the club now we have tshirts and we meet the last thursday of the month

Which is cool disaffected teenager speak for checking in on a dude who seems cool and also just actively went against two of the people she hates most aboard the ship.

Re: text post-Daisy shitfight

[breakaleginhalf]

Shockingly it took me less than two weeks to make a public mess of everything. Think it might be a new record for me.

He appreciates you checking in, babe, he reads Disillusioned Teenager as a second language.

[saltwaterlungs]

no offense dude i dont want to take away from your spotlight but legit if you think this is a public mess you have seen NOTHING yet
everyone will forget in like a day
and definitely forget the next time one starts up

money doesnt really mean anything but if i had any id bet on erin being involved again though

[breakaleginhalf]

Don't bet on a guaranteed outcome, kid. If I ever go fully fucking feral Erin's probably gonna be the best one to take me down.

How you doing anyway. I know that wasn't the best wake-up call.

[saltwaterlungs]

if you need to be taken out for going batshit then i can probably do that too
i have that pact with like
at least two people

Don't look at Vile okay that was an outlier and she's badass.

you including 'all the bullshit this month' in how im doing
because otherwise genuinely im okay
but if youre including the 'for some reason i keep remembering people from the ship bothering me when i was like six' then im less okay

[breakaleginhalf]

No offence, babe, but no you can't.

I mean more like I don't want you to, because I'm not gonna ask you to decapitate me. Erin's already good for it as a general rule. She Gets Me.

Also the memory bullshit is why Daisy tried to kill me. I genuinely don't think anyone's touched mine, but I'm not sure if I'd be able to tell anyway. Pretty sure I've spent more non-linear time dead than I have linear time alive.

[saltwaterlungs]

gonna take that super personally thanks

Why does nobody want her to decapitate them these days. People used to be alright with asking teenagers to murder them.

ill let you know if i run into any of yours
mine are easy to work out if theres ghosts or fuck off big churches you can probably find me there

...

if you find one with someone falling off a bridge though do me a favour and leave it alone

at a reasonable hour post the april everything.

[decrypter]

Mr. Gil, I realize I'm contacting you out of the blue, but may I talk to you?

Re: at a reasonable hour post the april everything.

[breakaleginhalf]

just gil is fine

[...wait he should be nice to the text-to-talk.]

What did you wanna talk about, babe?

[decrypter]

Will it sound terribly ominous if I say it's better discussed in person? This device lacks any kind of nuance.

[breakaleginhalf]

[Well that's a great start.]

Yours, mine, or over coffee?

[decrypter]

Mine will work. Not 119, 134.

[breakaleginhalf]

Yeah, sure. I'll be there in a bit.

[He has to take a few minutes to work up the will to live move, but eventually he's gently knocking on 134.]

[Text - Explosion Aftermath]

[ss_buttcrack]

I think you and I should talk. Maybe not in person. I'm still recovering from the last one.

- Cmdr. Crichton

Re: [Text - Explosion Aftermath]

[breakaleginhalf]

[He can't say Crichton's wrong to be wary but something still hurts about it.]

what dyou want me to say mate
not sure im sorry + cant guarantee it wont happen again

Re: [Text - Explosion Aftermath]

[ss_buttcrack]

Not asking you to be sorry. Pretty sure whatever Harvey said earned it. But I'd like a chance to speak to you on my own behalf and explain myself.

I talked to Wayne and he said this all started because you thought I was messing with him. I wasn't.

[Okay, he's quickly realizing this is going to be a lot of typing. Screw it.]

Know what? This isn't the kind of thing I want to talk about on these damn phones. I'm in the brig. You wanna talk face to face? You can stay on the outside of the bars.

[breakaleginhalf]

k

[Crichton doesn't need to know that the bars aren't gonna stop Gil if he gets pissed off badly enough. Let him have that illusion of safety when Gil comes into the Brig as well, finding Crichton's cell by scent first before he leans on the bars.]

...hey.

[ss_buttcrack]

Hey...

[Crichton is looking pretty rough. He's got his back to the wall, sitting on his cot with his knees folded up into his chest. He tries for a friendly wave when Gil comes in but it's limp-wristed. His face is black and blue, and there's an angry lesion on the bridge of his nose.]

Your name is Gil, right? This is my first time uh... meeting you as myself. Commander John Crichton. Not military, before you ask. I'd shake your hand but'ah... getting up makes me a little dizzy, still.

[breakaleginhalf]

[Gil does wince a little at the actual sight of Crichton's face up close, and he gives a wave that's not much more than a vague flop of his own hand too.]

Yeah, Gil Ryanson. Not human, so, uh. Yeah, that concussion's all me.

[He folds his arms over his chest, loose rather than defensive.]

I don't hate you, for the record. I just think you're god-awful at giving people context. This doesn't help that.

The Wine

[ablativeholopleather]

The message that Wayne sends is perfunctory, simple.

please be home

And why he needs Gil to be in his cabin is obvious when he marches up to the door, raps it harder than necessary to be let in, then just opens the door himself. He's clutching a dark bottle of what looks like red wine, and looks like he's been told his entire family has perma-died.

Re: The Wine

[breakaleginhalf]

yeah sure

But he is, legitimately, and Wayne doesn't even need to open the door for him to feel the rank levels of distress coming from him like a furnace, and he's already on his feet to approach Wayne, though he falters slightly when he sees the bottle of wine.

Well, Wayne's obviously not okay, so. Next question. "What happened?"

[ablativeholopleather]

The bottle is shoved against Gil's chest and Wayne moves to shut the door behind him, then lean against it with the heels of his hands pressed over his eyes. There are a few indentations in his skin making it evident that he's taken a heavy stress hit even without being able to smell it radiating off of him. He knows he needs to explain what's happening, but right now his words are...not the most available to him.

Gil is going to be getting heavy waves of PTSD-related emotions. A lot of anger and grief, an unintelligible melange of negatives. This bottle has done him immense psychic damage.

He doesn't speak up until he's got a better handle on it but even then, there's some inhuman harmonics that creep in the way they do when he's doing extremely poorly.

"I need you to keep that away from me."

[breakaleginhalf]

He grips it automatically when it's thrust upon him, but for a moment his grip nearly threatens to crack the glass at the sight of Wayne's distress.

"Okay. Just- one sec."

He's glad his roommate is out, so he can abandon the bottle on the bathroom counter so Wayne doesn't have to look at it, before he comes back to take Wayne's hands.

"I've got it, Wayne. C'mere." He's not even sure if Wayne wants contact right now, but getting him bundled up on the couch usually helps.

[ablativeholopleather]

Wayne hadn't even realized that Gil had acquired a roommate (much less that he himself had met said roommate and found her utterly delightful). Hopefully she didn't come back in just now to see this frankly alarming scene...

With the bottle out of sight, Wayne is better able to articulate the sheer amount of alarm. Just, not immediately. For now he lets his hands be taken but doesn't reciprocate, simply following the urging to get him onto the couch instead. He ends up curled there with his arms crossed tight across his body, eyes down on the knees of his jumpsuit.

"Sorry," he says quietly after a good minute of trying to force himself to come down. "Sorry, that's- I just- ...don't. Don't drink that, okay?"

[breakaleginhalf]

Gil stays patiently next to him the entire time, letting a hand rest on Wayne's back when he curls in on himself, but not pushing any further while he's so distressed.

It's frustrating how immediately that makes him want to drink it. But he also leans in a bit closer, resting more of his arm on Wayne's back as he puts the other hand on his knee. "Okay. You don't have to be sorry."