myresponsibility | 038

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[Every once and a while, Peter heads out with his camera and fills a roll of film or two with pictures of the Barge. It's partially because he misses his hobby - he'd done this a lot back home, for the school paper and sometimes for money, and for fun - but also because it sort of feels like he needs a visual record of this place and the people he's met here for when he goes home.

Because he does plan on going home. Just not yet.

So he snaps pictures of the deck, the library, from the roof of the greenhouse, and of the people wandering around on deck, or in the dining hall.

He's not an idiot - there are a couple people he definitely avoids taking pictures of, just in case - but there're definitely times where you might have noticed him taking a couple candids of you and your friends.

After he's got the film, he usually heads to the lab to develop the negatives, which takes forever, even when you've been doing this for years. He's fortunately remembered to paste a knock first sign on the door, but feel free to ignore that and interrupt.]

[Spam for Scott]

[So.

Peter still doesn't feel very good at this - still, it's been forever and he still feels like an awkward asshole who's got no business trying to be anyone's emotional support system - but here he is, and here we are, so it sort of just makes sense that he finds himself wandering by Scott's door and knocking to see how his friend's doing.

Dead ex-girlfriends showing up on board are kind of a weird thing to wind up dealing with, you know?]

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[ So that's one Jack Napier, all green haired and white faced, and that's one Derek Powers, who is totally normal for the nonce; Jack's got an arm around Derek's shoulder as he steers him onward, chatting about any-old-thing as they head upward. There is fun to be hard, skin to be shown off (well, for one of them) and Jack's trying to be a good friend. ]

--believe you left him there. He's got a dog, you know. Look, he's close to Chris D'amico, at least tell him you left your warden in a coma in his cabin so someone can at least take care of the dog!

[ ...also lecturing him a little. ]

[There is a very good chance Peter won't even recognize Powers in his current form; most wouldn't, really. Especially since he's not acting much in this particular interaction much like what could be defined as his 'usual self'.

Good thing, too. Or is it a bad one? Otherwise Peter probably would consider Blight on the list of people to very much avoid. Given their last interaction.]

Oh, stop. I'm certain I would have gotten around to it eventually. It's simply more that I had other things on my mind.

[Slight eyeroll is the only actual form of protest to Jack's nagging. He's moving his hands a bit as he speaks, but not trying to shake the other man off either.]

Anyway. From what I've heard and been told, aren't these ongoing comas a thing that's considered downright commonplace?

[The thing is, Peter does recognize Powers - he's still got the patchy memories of living that other life, and, well, he'd made an impression on that other person. Other Peter. Batman. Whatever.

And this is literally the first time he's ever seen or heard him interacting positively with anyone, so as much as he kind of wants to walk away instead of talking to him - Powers isn't the only one who was pissed off and a little thrown off kilter after that flood - he winds up lingering. And stares. Because holy shit, you can be friends with people?

Weird that it's Jack, too, honestly.]

[ Jack can be friends with anyone. ]

Yeah, apparently. I've never had one myself, and hope to avoid them. All I need is to fall over asleep and next thing I know... someone's gone traipsing through my room to find out if I'm dead, in a coma, or have been fired off the barge.

[ Jack likes his privacy, okay. ]

[ He catches sight of Peter from the corner of his eye; he focuses on the camera second. Well, that's-- interesting. And Derek's not noticed him yet, so-- best get this handled. ]

Hey, Pete. Shutterbugging about the barge?

[ He's a nice guy who'll totally put himself between the two if he needs to. He's already thinking of ways to handle damage control. ]

[Jack isn't the only one who likes his privacy, but this is the first note of it that Powers has caught. He gives the other man a shrewd look, eyebrows raising coolly.]

Well. I suppose that I have the same hope, then. For similar reasons, among others.

[He doesn't notice Peter until after Jack has already addressed him. He stills, a line of tension all through his entire body leaving him dead in his tracks. No words for the younger man, but after a second or two his gaze slides coolly to the side that he can look for himself.

His expression is far from friendly; on some level he's hoping his less than amicable reaction will leave Peter sprinting. But if one of them's going to start something, for once he's not looking to be the first.]

[Peter's not looking to start anything, even if there's still that prickle of memory nagging at the back of his mind that threatens to drag up a lot of bad stuff he'd thought he'd put behind him.

It's easier to focus on Jack, because at least he's attempting to be friendly, even if they're both apparently assuming the worst, here.]

Yeah. Something to do, right?

[It's more than that, too, but it's not really something he tends to advertise. He readjusts his camera strap on his shoulder before continuing.]

I keep some prints so people can have pictures of people here when, you know. They go home.

Hey, yeah, that's good. You know it might be nice? Like, a corkboard in each common room, letting people who lives on what floor. A picture guide.

[ It might be a pain in the butt to put together, considering what loners some people were, but still. It wasn't impossible. Jack was always thinking of practical applications of fun things-- and fun applications of practical things, when he could. ]

Anyway, we're about to hit the pub, right? Celebratory drinks. Derek's skin is win, and all that.

[ Because they're friends, and that's not as weird as it sounds. ]

[Somewhere in the midst of all that, he caught onto the fact that the two others seem to be trying to tread lightly around him. Once again, he gets to be the irrational one that everyone else is worried might snap and fly off the handle. Wary of saying the wrong thing in front of.

Well. Fine. It's not quite the same tactic as trying to directly guilt him into playing nice -- which is good, frankly, because that wouldn't have been nearly as effective.]

Don't go assigning random projects to people you barely know, Hood. Not everyone is as eager for a workload as you.

[Snideness aside, this counts as playful banter by his reckoning. Jack will probably get that - it may or may not fly right over Peter's head though.]

[Regardless, Peter shrugs.] I don't mind. It's something to do, right?

[And it is kind of a cool idea, assuming people are on board for it. He has no idea if they will be or not, but it never hurts to ask, especially when you're pretty strong and fast and can easily avoid getting punched in the face if someone really takes offense to it.

Anyway, he doesn't want to keep you guys, so he offers a little half wave, even if there's still the slight tug of memory telling him Powers is Bad News and will always be, no matter what he looks like.

(What's he going to do if the guy who killed his uncle's going to show up here?)]

Have fun.

See? Projects are great.

[ Jack thinks so. Wardens in general are work-minded. ]

Anyway, see you later.

[ And he's nudging Derek onward, one hand on his shoulder -- glancing back to flash a peace sign at Peter with a grin. It's your only chance to get a shot there, boyo, make it good, because then Jack is ushering Derek onward, so nobody gets set on fire. ]

[Dead ex-girlfriends aren't supposed to show up out of the blue. You're supposed to deal with dead ex-girlfriends learning to miss them, and move on, and stuff like that. Scott is still not 100% sure how to deal with her living a few floors away, not knowing what happened.

He's relacing the net of his lacrosse stick when Peter knocks, and for a second he hesitates with a breath already drawn in. Normally, he'd just yell for however it was to come in. But now there's the possibility that it could be Allison. And he doesn't want to be sideswiped by her.

Otherwise, they'll never keep it from her.

So he lets out the breath, and draws in another, centering himself before calling.]

Come in!

[Peter doesn't hesitate after being given the invitation, and actually doesn't immediately feel like he's intruding, or really out of place here. Progress.

Still, he's not entirely certain of how to approach this beyond, you know. Just going for it, so he doesn't exactly wait too long before just getting into it.]

Hey. [He smiles, and at least it's genuine, if maybe a little worried.] Sorry, I just wanted to say hey. And, you know, see how it was going.

[What with you know.]

[Such progress! Scott is sitting cross legged on his bed, and he smiles up at Peter when he sees who it is. Peter doesn't waste any time, and when he realizes what this is about, he's not a hundred percent sure if he's really relieved, or if he just wants to bolt.

Ultimately, he shrugs.]

I'm okay.

[That sounds like bullshit even to him, and he snorts.]

I mean. I don't know. I'm starting to feel like I'm losing my mind.

Well, I mean, we're floating through space on a ship full of dead criminals. I'm kind of surprised we're all not losing our minds.

[He closes the door behind him and takes a couple steps further into the room, finally deciding on sitting in a chair instead of perching next to Scott in case he wants some air.]

Do you want to talk about it?

[Okay, so that's still a little awkwardly asked, but at least he doesn't sound like he's planning on bolting. Still. Somehow.]

Yeah. [Scott gives a weak laugh.] Seriously.

[Another shrug - he doesn't really care about the awkwardness, because Peter's a little awkward, and Scott can be a little awkward, and that doesn't really matter in the end.]

I dunno. I don't really....We're lying to her. We just - decided to lie to her.

[Peter thinks it over and winds up shrugging sort of helplessly, because man, he is not the best person to talk you out of lying to someone. He lies all the time.

Or he did, and tried to, and he still kind of sucks at it.

He will be making a concerted effort not to suck at this one.]

I don't think anyone's going to try and say you're making a bad choice, here. I mean, come on.

I know. I know, I mean - how do you tell someone that?

[He can't exactly go hey, I know I've been acting like a freak around you, it's because you died in my arms. His throat tightens at the thought, and he shakes his head.]

But I'm scared she'll know something's up.

[Tig can't spend all his time in the room. The room might be familiar, might be a place he actually recognizes, but that's all the more reason not to hole himself up there, honestly. He's not home, the more he's tempted to fool himself that he is the worse off he'll be. So he takes a walk. Wanders the hallways, tries to find his way (and isn't that a hopeless case). He hasn't taken his kutte off since pulling it back on during Iris' one woman welcome wagon, and now he relishes the reassuring creak of leather. One way this prison isn't really like prison, no uniform that's not his own, his identity remains intact. His affiliation. And even with his beef with Jax...SAMCRO's still his family, or at least the closest he's got besides his own.

Prison instinct comes back easily, whether or not the place seems like one. Watching your back, watching every corner, being on constant guard. It's what tips him off, the subtle click, the flicker of light, and glancing around quick it's easy to miss, maybe, but he's waiting for it after the first few.

He finally catches the kid halfway down the hallway, a sudden stop and a slow turn, triangulating, until he finds him, tucked in between the wall and the ceiling like he's velcroed to the wall. The biker tilts his head, curious, evaluating.]

You know, most people find it more comfortable on the floor. Less chance of falling. Or swallowing a spider web.

[It sounds ridiculous even as he says it, but as long as he accepts it as a given that he might be high already it doesn't seem quite so much so.]

[It's a totally common sight to see - Peter's even picked out a corner on the ceiling of the maintenance office that's pretty much his "desk", which frees up the rest of the room for Anya's and the variety of clutter that seems to find its way in there. His legs are folded under him, and he's putting another roll of film in his camera when the stranger stumbles upon him.

Tig's slow stop is what attracts his attention, and Peter looks up at first in surprise, and then smiles and shakes his head.]

Yeah, believe me, I know where that stuff comes from. It's not going in my mouth.

[Since he's probably more responsible for any spider webs people find around here these days. Or ever. Does the Barge even have spiders?]

You're the new guy?

[It might be common for the rest, but it's not like anything Tig's seen outside of the movies. Kids don't hang on the wall, least of all like it's nothing; it's going to take him a few moments to adjust.]

Yeah, I get that a lot too.

[It's easier to joke, to ignore the shit that shouldn't be happening.]

Tig. Fresh meat here, yeah. Listen, you mind gettin' down from there, you're kinda weirding me out. And I'm not easily weirded out.

Yeah, okay. Fair enough.

[He's done more or less everything he'd set out to do when he'd first climbed up there for a break. He clicks the back of his camera shut, swings it over his shoulder and hops back down, landing totally nimbly on the floor before hopping back up and brushing himself off.]

I'm Peter. But like, as a head's up, that's kind of super low on the scale of weird stuff you're gonna see around there, so. Get excited?

I'll try to contain myself.

[So dry.]

What's with the paparazzi thing?

[Peter shrugs unhelpfully.]

I like taking pictures. There's a lot of time to kill around here.

And that's the best way you got to waste time.

You at least got anything good on there? Sneak into anywhere you're not supposed to be?

No. Why, where should I be sneaking into?

[When Elena writes in her diary, she often isn't paying attention to anyone or anything else. She's too busy trying to find the right words to say everything she needs to no one in particular beyond just herself. But the soft click of the shutter brings her gaze up from the diary in her lap to looking around the deck for the source of it. She smiles when she spots Peter.]

Bored?

Super bored.

[Peter advances the film and smiles a little sheepishly, because he knows he caught her a little off guard.]

I mean, you know how long it's been since I've had something to do? Kinda surprised the Admiral hasn't gotten sick of me yet.

Well, he keeps Chris around still so you're probably safe.

[She is, of course, just teasing. Chris is abrasive at times, but he's not a bad warden. He really tries, if nothing else.]

Okay, good point. [He's also totally kidding, because somehow, he and Chris have become pretty good friends despite all the reasons that they maybe shouldn't have.]

How about you? Round Two working out okay so far?

[Elena nods.]

Yeah, I think so.

[Despite epic poor-timing and a few hiccups along the way, Elena can't complain too much.]

It'd be nice to have an inmate just so I don't feel like I'm sitting here being useless, but I know you can't exactly rush these things.

Yeah, I've been stuck here for like, a year without one. How pathetic is that?

[But anyway, catching her with her diary reminded him of something, so he changes topics quickly.] So, weird question, totally random, doesn't have to do with anything, really, but if you left, but your diary stayed behind, would it be weird if people read it to find out what being here was like?

Babs and I were talking about it. Hypothetically, I mean, not like, about yours specifically. That would be weird.

Yeah, it would definitely be weird. [Elena glances down at her diary and smiles.] And possibly a little mortifying.

[She doesn't exactly keep secrets in there that other people don't know about, but it's still a collection of some of her thoughts and feelings she may not necessarily want broadcast to a larger audience.]

Anddd now I owe her money. Probably. I don't actually remember if we actually put money on it?

[Anyway, moving on.]

I don't know, I just thought it'd be interesting, to get like, a record of someone else's experiences here. Might give us an idea of what to look out for. Now I guess I'd just feel like a jerk if I ever find something like that in the library.

[Elena laughs a little and shakes her head.]

It wouldn't make you a jerk. People read diaries of people who went through something all the time or else memoirs wouldn't be a thing.

Yeah, but usually historians ask them first. Or like, their families.

Or they've been gone for so long I guess no one's worried about their ghosts hiring a lawyer or something.

[Peter shrugs somewhat nonchalantly, like hey, do I look like I know the answer to this sort of thing? But his grin kind of wrecks the whole attitude he might have been going for.]

To be fair, I don't know of many lawyers that'd take a case like 'hey they're reading my diary on a space prison traveling the universe.'

Hey look, the only lawyer we've got on board is literally certifiable, so.

True, [Elena concedes with a laugh.] But I don't know if there's a court for something like this.

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038 | SPAM

you're getting a spam twofer

prepare for trouble, and make it double ;p

excellent 83

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