03 . boat log!

[necrolord]

Who: necrolord and existing CR. If your character has met the Emperor and would respond positively to an invite, jump on in. (If you're not sure, ask me at ochrona!)
What: A voyage out to sea! This is a mingle log; feel free to toplevel and tag around.
When: Ambiguously around New Year's.
Where: The Pthumerian Ocean.

Content Warnings: Undead sailors, flesh-eating crabs, tentacles, corpses; Deer-standard levels of inherent fleshy horror. Note all the usual warnings of this character.

[ See John's toplevel for prompts, and feel free to tag in brackets or prose! ]

Comments

[lipochrome]

[ Gideon is, frankly, impressed with the fact that Palamedes has managed to stay upright for more or less the entire voyage, something that neither she nor Harrowhark were able to pull off during their first time on God's boat. The fact that this is her second time on God's point is honestly a bit of a bummer; Gideon had vowed never to show up here again. But Harrow is "first mate," apparently, so here she is! ]

Yeah, sure. Believe it or not, I can count past ten.

[ She reads those magazines for the articles, of course. She leans next to him on the railing, peering over her shades to get a feel for how green Palamedes actually is. Hm. That's nothing to sneeze at, so: ] But, like, why though? You look kinda rough, I don't think keeping time is gonna help.

[megatheorem]

[They are all on this boat for various Reasons, for sure; Palamedes is not, himself, here because he thinks God is particularly admirable, but God is a Guy with Resources and the willingness to let the Sixth stomp around on his boat.

Well, Cam might be stomping. She may have stomped off to get Palamedes a bucket, because his own methods of enjoying this voyage are, hm, stupid. He manages to give Gideon a crooked grin with only a little queasy wincing at the edges.]

Nav, I never doubted your skills for a minute.

[She is a woman of many talents, certainly, least of all timekeeping. Palamedes holds up a finger, correcting:]

Keeping time will help me concentrate. I am — immeasurably nauseous, and would have an easier time evaluating my holdout ability were someone else handling the measurable time. Therefore — you!

[lipochrome]

[ Why anyone would want to evaluate their holdout ability is thoroughly beyond Gideon, a person who strongly believes that if you gotta hurl, it's best to get it over with quickly. ]

O-kay. [ Said in the tones of: this is very stupid, especially for someone who is supposed to be very smart. ] You want me to count in my head or out loud? [ what's worse: not knowing how long you've lasted, or Gideon going one-skelebone, two-skelebone, out loud? ] Also, you don't need to try for too long. I'm pretty sure Harrow puked immediately upon boarding this thing the first time, so.

[ Now that's a betrayal of Gideon's vows. Admitting that Sextus has surpassed Harrow in some respect of their one-sided rivalry? The horror. It's also completely unsubstantiated; Harrow boarded the ship well before Gideon ever did. Gideon's just guessing, on account of the fact that Harrow is about ninety pounds and does not enjoy dramatic experiences, such as the flavor of biscuits. ]

[megatheorem]

[Oh, Gideon. He's flattered that she thinks he's so super smart (he is, thank you gurl), but he shoots her a less queasy split-second grin as if to say that she has not seen him even remotely at his wildest.

Which, in this case, is his dumbest. It happens.]

Immediately? Does she know you're telling people about that?

[He's ultra motivated now. Thank you, Harrow, for getting seasick before his time.]

I figure, bonus, if I get sick enough, our glorious Emperor will leave me to my own devices. That's only a sub plan, like, we're talking Plan F. But you know how it goes.

[lipochrome]

Nah. [ Gideon returns the grin, although hers is blessedly less tinged with nausea. ] I'm telling you just to give her a hard time. [ that's Gideon's job! In the fine print to one flesh, one end is be a huge pain in the ass.

At our glorious Emperor, Gideon wrinkles her nose. Glorious, sure, but he's also a huge asshole. She's glad Palamedes is coming up with ways to stay away from him, at least. ]

He's not hassling you too much, is he? He refused to leave Harrow alone, back on that fuck-off space station. [ and that wasn't good for Harrow at all. ]

[megatheorem]

I'll be sure to needle her about it later, when I'm all out of things to throw up.

[You know, to be polite. He gives Gideon a sideways look in silence for a moment, wondering — mostly, if he should ask why she and Harrow live in his damn house, if that is any of his business (it isn't). But God had said Harrow humors him, whatever that means, so.

Hmm.]

You know, he asked me to come out here and look at squids, and yet I don't think he's a fan. That's fine; the feeling's mutual, but still — if I weren't a necromancer I doubt he'd know I exist.

[And it's not as if Palamedes is torn up about this; no, even the tone he delivers such a statement in is a succinct observation: this is not a loving God. Whatever, though: as long as he's not bothered, that's fine.]

[lipochrome]

[ Gideon does not respond to that sideways look, instead opting to stare at something in the ocean very far away. Oh, look, a wave. How interesting. She grips the railing a little tighter at he asked me to come out here, relaxes at I doubt he'd know I exist. Gideon doesn't worry about Palamedes in the same way she worries about Harrow, but still, it's nice to hear that Palamedes isn't quite so...involved, let's say. ]

Good. [ which is a weird response to "God and I are not friends," so: ] You're better off keeping it that way. You know he tried to kill Harrow because he was worried about her? Best you can hope for is that he ignores you.

[ Thankfully, there's enough commotion between the sea and the other people on the boat that there's a good chance her voice won't carry far. Gideon probably should have told Palamedes this before he set sail on actual God's actual boat, but she figures late is better than never. ]

[megatheorem]

[Palamedes is quiet for a moment, leaning a little further over the railing, like maybe it is now time to Yartz Everywhere — no, he doesn't. But it gives him a moment to center his thoughts and carefully measure his expression, which is only the regular amounts of queasy when he speaks again:]

Did he?

[Wow.

Somebody should probably sit Harrow down and talk to her about her choices in humoring people.]

I mean, you know what he expected us to do at Canaan House. In the end; not the disaster it became instead.

[lipochrome]

Yeah, but he was being a real baby about it. [ especially for a guy who's ten thousand years old. ] He just sent another Lyctor to do his dirty work.

[ That was the worst part. Like, obviously, the murder attempts were bad on their own, but lying about it? It's a shame he's not back in the river with Ianthe, because those two really are a matched set. ]

I guess that's why he did it. He called it fixing her, which, ew, bad, gross. [ Gideon makes a face. Eugh! ] Besides. The degree to which we are or aren't a Lyctor is mine and Harrow's problem, not his. [ And that's definitely a problem, but recounting Harrow's brain surgery and Gideon's complicated feelings about it is just going to make him more seasick, so. Time to avoid that, for a bit. ]

Fucked-up morals aside, you and Cam made the right call in not getting involved with any of those weirdos.