If I Have to Lie, Steal, Cheat or Kill [Semi-Open]

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard hasn't gotten a full night of sleep since a little before they landed on Galilee. The events of that particular mission certainly haven't helped. Recently he's taken up to squinting to combat the way his eyes feel as if they're covered in dustbunnies and sand, and his usual skittishness has turned into an unconscious twitch and tremble.

After spending at least a few hours of the night pacing the Warehouse, now otherwise devoid of life except for him and Emergency Rations the Cat, he finally sinks to his anxious instincts and pulls open the hidden closet to reveal the cans and cans of non-perishable food. Then he closes the door again, places back the wall panel. That's for emergencies. That's for starvation.

He checks Albert's room again to see if his business partner has magically appeared back in his bed, but the immaculate, orderly room remains empty. It's not even as if he liked Albert. If pressed, he might even admit to hating him. But Howard doesn't like that someone in his life has vanished without warning. He's had bad experiences with that.

Emergency Rations follows him to the front door. She brushes up against his legs while he puts his shoes on, and for a moment on the floor he pulls her to his chest and breathes into her fur. Then he fills her bowl up with more kibble, taking a handful for himself, and locks her inside the house while he heads to Hydroponics.

He passes the beer tree, passes the carnivorous plants, and finds a quiet little nook with exactly what he's looking for - fruit trees.

The fresh, strange fruits within arm's reach don't last him all that long - partially due to his relatively small stature and their slick, unclimbable bark. But there are some on the ground, if rotten. He's not picky. He gathers them from around the surface roots of the trees and sets them in one sloppy, oozing pile.

He sits with his back against one of the trees, resting his head on a loose knot and swallowing pieces of overripe fruit while barely chewing. It's a temporary comfort. Just because people disappear on Stacy doesn't mean she's about to put them in some death trap. Stacy's always been like this, taking people when it makes sense to her. It's just never been someone close to Howard.

Thinking about how he's the only person from the FAYZ still awake here sends a shiver down his back, but the sweet juice in his mouth does well to remind him that he's not back home, not in the FAYZ, not buying time from death, not going to go hungry again.

[OOC: Due to the tone of this post I'd like to keep this limited to a few threads; hit me up in PM or AIM if you want to tag here. I'll be having a less wangsty open post for Howard up in a few days for those interested in getting CR with him under different circumstances.]

Comments

In your thread, messing with your angst

[theboywhowaits]

It was late. Later than he'd intended to, but he'd been all day in medical handing out packets to new recruits and trying to help sort through the madness the the mission had brought back with them. Ponics wasn't really on his way, but it was soothing. Enough to resettle his brain before he got home. He didn't want Amy to see how utterly frazzled he was. The mission had shaken them all, even the Doctor, or it seemed so to him. It was a bit unnerving to know that someone you trusted was capable of turning your brain into jelly, but at the same time, he knew the Doctor wouldn't. That was a strange though, to know the lay of someone's skills and know that they wouldn't use one against you.

Strange, but...with everything else...it made so much sense.

He took a deep breath, letting the green of Hydroponics permeate his lungs before turning to go. He frowned, spotting the small dark shape huddled against the tree.

"Howard?" He kept his voice soft, trying not to startle the kid. Teenager, really, but often times this ship treated them like adults and there wasn't anything else for that. But right now he was acting.

Scared. Scared and panicked. Rory crouched down a few feet away, not pushing his welcome if Howard wanted him to go.

"What's happened?" He really needed to remember that his ribs weren't quite healed up, because if he undid the healing, there'd be a line of women who would be quite cross with him, starting with Amy and ending with Sakura, most likely. Might extend beyond that if some of his coworkers got fussy with him.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Rory. He hasn't gotten a chance to talk to Rory since the hospital - after that it had been battle and going home, and in the Med Bay Rory had to tend to Kon and then be tended to himself, as well as teaching the recruits. Howard had busied himself doing other things in the Med Bay, anything to keep from standing still and having to process everything that happened on Galilee.

He doesn't know if he should thank Rory again for saving him, but he slowly places the hunk of dripping fruit he's eating back on the ground and tries to look more composed than he feels. He folds his hands - now sticky with juice - in his lap to try and manage the way they're trembling. He raises his gaze to meet Rory's, hoping the boldness of eye contact won't betray his current anxiety.

"Nothing. Just wanted a midnight snack." His voice is a bit strained as he lies. "Your head looks better with the Frankenstein stitches. Stylish, in a Halloween kind of way."

It's a lame joke, but he needs something to draw the conversation away from him and onto Rory. Even though experience has proven that trying to keep Rory from picking up on things is an exercise in futility.

[theboywhowaits]

"Yeah, I'll have scar no matter what happens. Suppose it will make me look more dangerous." He kept his eyes on Howard and the rotten fruit he'd been shoving in his mouth.

Howard's hands were shaking, he couldn't tell if that was a result of exhaustion or stress.

He didn't frown, eyes full of quiet concern. He was tired, exhausted even. This week had worn them all thin, and he had a long time time build up resistance to stress. Howard was a child. It was odd to think that many people on this ship could be considered children now.

"You could have gone to the mess. Or the Sensoriums. Could have made whatever you wanted."

He paused, not speaking, letting Howard talk if he wanted to. It was a bit of a shock that Howard hadn't pushed him away, had even tried to address his own condition. That was more telling than Howard thought. Something had happened.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Can I call you Scarface? I'm going to start calling you Scarface," Howard says, even though he doesn't mean it. Rory's just sort of Rory. Unlike most everyone else, Howard hasn't been able to find a suitable nickname for him yet, and 'Scarface' won't cut it either.

He fixes Rory with a steady gaze, almost challenging, and deadpans "I like nature."

Which is, of course, a complete lie. Howard pretty much hates nature. At best, it's inconvenient, and at worst it tries to kill you in horrible ways. The only good thing about nature is that sometimes it provides food and water for you, if you know where to look.

"And I didn't want to be around a bunch of other people," he adds, as close as he's come so far to a confession. Rory wouldn't be the only one who'd be able to tell something's wrong.

He rubs at his eyes and really only succeeds in smearing the fruit juice on his hands around his face. It occurs to him that he probably looks like a mess.

[theboywhowaits]

"Yeah, Howard. If you want. Might make people think I'm some sort of American gangster, but if you want, I won't stop you."

Rory snorted, leaning forward slightly. "Yeah, I'd imagine you would. Or at least, the potential nature has for making things you can eat."

He nodded. People were difficult, people when you were stressed more so. And they'd invaded one of his safe places with a bunch of noisy strangers.

"Yeah. I can imagine." He reached into his pocket, offering Howard a handkerchief. "Have you been sleeping, Howard?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Good. It can be a codename for you or something. No one will ever figure out I'm talking about you and not that guy who shoots fire or whatever."

He frowns a bit, pulling his knees up close to his chest and taking another bite of food. As obvious as it is that he's got some issues with eating, he doesn't like having attention drawn to it, and Rory seems to have a way of doing that. Of making him feel like layers of skin are being pulled back to reveal a damaged and rigged-together interior, functioning but not optimally.

He doesn't take the handkerchief, instead just watching it as if Rory's about to pull it back. "No. Not really. Not for a while."

[theboywhowaits]

"I don't mind." He settled better, more out of consideration for his ribs than an attempt to get comfortable. "Probably a good thing, if you ever need to shout for me and don't want anyone to know who it is you're calling."

He watched Howard draw himself in, frowning very slightly. Yeah, something was defiantly going on. Beyond the mission, he thought, though the mission probably hadn't helped.

"Take it, that dries and you'll have to go jump in the river to get it off. That water is cold."

It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion, but he honestly didn't expect Howard to take it. He also wasn't withdrawing the arm.

"The mission? Or something else?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

He still doesn't take the handkerchief. "I have a shower at home, Rory."

He pauses, biting his lip, trying to figure out how much he can divulge and if he wants to. What good is it going to do to explain to Rory that he can't fight these irrational fears? That he knows he's as safe as he can get here on Stacy, but as soon as he tries to close his eyes at night he has to get up again to make sure all the locks are still set, all the food storage is untouched, all the people are still outside and haven't just vanished? That when he does sleep, he wakes up exhausted because in his dreams he was being eaten alive?

That he can look at the food in his hand and know, factually, that it is rotten, know that his stomach's cramping from overuse, know that Stacy provides all the food they'll need not to starve now, and still feel like he'll die if he doesn't put the fruit in his mouth?

Even he knows it's crazy. He just doesn't know how to fix it, and he doubts Rory does either. Rory's a fixer by nature, a nurse, a perceptive one, but how can he fix this?

And even if he does, then what happens to Howard when he comes to rely on that and Stacy or death or whatever takes Rory too?

"Before the mission. I mean, the mission didn't help with the...but before. And then I got home and Albert was repodded and no one had fed his stupid cat for days."

[theboywhowaits]

Rory shook his head, leaning forward and ignoring the stab of pain as he dropped the thick fabric on Howard's knee, retreating back a safe distance. Giving him the space he wanted.

"That's fine."

He settled down, hands resting on his knees and locking his jaw for a moment against any exterior sign of pain.

"I don't think the mission did much to help anyone. No matter what the situation was." Ah, that was it, was it? Not a friend, he didn't think. But someone from his world all the same.

And Howard had dealt with vanishing people before.

He didn't say anything for a moment, swallowing the mindless platitudes that everyone would tell him and considering what Howard needed to hear. "You might not have anyone from your world here, Howard. But you do have a place on the ship." He trapped his fingers on his knee, quiet as he considered. He wouldn't ever leave a member of his department behind, but especially not Howard. "And you seem to have inherited a cat."

He reached into his jacket, pulling out a candy bar and offering it to the kid. "Here."

[zouichi.livejournal.com]

Zouichi was fairly used to seeing Howard around at odd hours, but he figured that the events on Galilee would have had a more substantial effect on him than most. When he didn't find Howard at the Warehouse, he went looking, ending up at Hydroponics almost on a hunch. Hydroponics had food. Howard sought out food.

"What happened?" he asked as he walked up. A simple question. Even if Howard weren't there, Albert should have been. Had they fought? Or...

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard startles a bit, having been so fixated on the fruit that he let his guard down. "Oh. Hey, Zou. I thought you'd be pretending to sleep at the Inn."

He considers trying to play it cool, but Zouichi obviously knows him plenty better than that, especially if he intended to find him here. So he goes with honest. "Albert's gone. Repodded."

[zouichi.livejournal.com]

Zouichi shrugged. "Well, you know me. Sometimes I like to pretend to sleep elsewhere."

He takes a seat near Howard, crossing his legs and glancing at the fruit in his hand. "I kind of figured, when no one answered the door. Nice surprise to come back to. I guess you don't want to hear about how he's not really gone, and he could come back any day now and start annoying you and getting all into your space all over again."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"You checked in with Allenby and everything? Someone's got to make sure those ghosts have company." Howard overheard something about Allenby and the like getting brigged when communications had gone down, but given that he doesn't know Allenby, he didn't really bother getting more information. He assumes someone already told Zou.

Howard shakes his head. "Nobody fed his cat for days. She could have starved or something. I don't know." It's not even his cat. He's not sure why he cares.

"I guess Albert had to go at some point anyway. Either he was going to get repodded or his battery would run out and we'd have to plug him back in until he recharged."

[zouichi.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, Allenby's fine. Maybe a little bored in the brig, though. I volunteered for more guard duty so I could keep her company. She tried to get down to the hangar and bring some reinforcements down while we were still on the planet."

Zouichi looked concerned. "Is the cat all right? Did she find something to eat? I might have something at the Inn." He cares! He cares deeply about the cat!

He raised an eyebrow. "I guess he was a little robotic at times. But he was still..."

"...hey. Do you want to come over and stay at the Inn for a little while? I mean, Allenby's already used to dealing with my sleep habits. You can bring the cat."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Oh no, God forbid we'd have some help on that stupid planet." Howard can't even really bring himself to say Galilee's name, he hated that planet so much. By his reckoning, the next shore leave's going to have to be on a post-apocalyptic firepit filled with robo-demons and telepathic nuns to compete.

"Cat's fine. I fed her. We have cat food, it's just all in a gigantic bin and Emergency Rations doesn't exactly have thumbs." He flexes one of his hands and uses the other to stuff another fistful of fruit in his mouth.

He pauses for a moment, considering that offer. On the one hand, ghosts. And Zouichi might get on his case about his sleep habits.

On the other hand, maybe he needs someone to get on his case about that, and the alternative seems to be pacing around the Warehouse trying to think about all the reasons he's glad Albert's gone and not about how people are just randomly disappearing again.

"Yeah. That'd probably be a good idea. The Warehouse is pretty quiet without Albert clearing his throat at me whenever I leave my clothes in the dryer too long."

[zouichi.livejournal.com]

"No kidding. I wouldn't have complained about a giant robot or two as backup."

Emergency Rations? And people thought his parrot's name was weird. He nodded. "Well, I guess I'll have to practice my throat-clearing. You can pick the room that's the least haunted, if you want. Although I'm not sure which one that would be; I haven't seen any ghosts since you were last there."

Zouichi brushed some dust off of his shoulder. "You want to head out now, or stay here for a while longer?" He was fine either way; it wasn't as though he had anywhere to be.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Maybe just some way to nuke the whole place from orbit. What a waste of air." Maybe Howard's feeling a little over-the-top bitter, but whatever, he's not going to waste energy feeling charitable to that place. He gestures up to his forehead. "Is that all...are you okay? After all that?"

Hopefully getting to lay waste to a bunch of security guards and clones helped Zou get out some aggression, at least a little.

"Figures. I'm probably more of a ghost magnet than you are." He looks over at his pile of rotten food. "Can we stay a bit longer?"

[battorch]

Hydroponics wasn't a usual locaton for Tim to be-- it wasn't particularly useful for him, besides scoping out the crew and what was available to them. But that night was different. In part because he was still trying to sort through a lot of things in his head, and he was willing to try a more passive break, too, instead of just fighting. Logically he knew it worked. Plus, it doubled as one of those opportunities to scope out-- to make sure there was no trouble. Odd hours be damned.

It certainly felt strange, though, to be wandering around as Tim, instead of as Red Robin. But he was supposed to be using this as downtime, and it was still a useful endeavour, to operate as Tim occasionally.

He spotted the younger boy sitting by the tree soon enough, and paused, standing perfectly silently and in the shadow. It took him a moment to remember to break out of the Red Robin character, and he stepped out of the shadows with a deliberately louder step, before asking, "Couldn't sleep?"

[tell me if I'm godmoding Tim too much]

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Normally Howard might have been vigilant enough to notice Tim, paranoid as he is, but the ironic thing about panicking over every little thing is that it disrupts your ability to actually be watchful. As such, he jerks so quickly he drops the handful of decaying food in his hand.

For a moment he doesn't say anything, then he straightens up and in the most even voice he can manage, deadpans, "no, I'm just a very articulate sleepwalker. What are you doing up?"

He doesn't know this kid. If he had to guess he'd say this kid's older than him, certainly bigger and probably more athletic, but not a threat so far. And given that he's worried about everyone vanishing, he could do worse than to have another person in eyesight.

Something about the kid seems kind of jerky, awkward. Like he's trying to play the part of being a kid, being a little too deliberate. Howard squints at him, not sure what to make of that, too sleep-deprived to figure out if it's a train of thought worth pursuing.

He uses both hands to scoop up the abandoned mush of dropped fruit and bring it to his mouth again. His pile of food's running low. Even though he knows he's already eaten far more than is healthy - his cramped, stuffed stomach keeps telling him that with shooting pains and nausea - this upsets him.

Still, he tries to look mostly collected in front of Weird New Kid.

it's all good! and the same for me, yes?

[battorch]

"Well everyone's got to have their talents," Tim said, almost as deadpan as the other kid had managed, but with a raised eyebrow to break it. "Me, though, I still find it weird to sleep here. Creepy meat furniture, and all that hasn't done much for my previously mild insomnia." It was a reasonable enough story behind it, anyway. And it was true that even back home he'd not been much of a sleeper.

Tim kept standing with his back straight, firm but not as much as Red Robin would be. He looked over the other boy, a little bit smaller and a little bit younger than him, and a little unfocused. Probably needed the sleep he was missing out on.

He watched him pick up the fruit, taking note of a gesture he'd probably call possessive. Most kids wouldn't have bothered, especially not with the quality of the fruit. But this one, though he was acting more or less calm (though trembles aren't going to pass Tim's notice by), gave him the vibe that it's important.

"I guess there are worse ways to spend a sleepless night than with late night snacks," he commented, and took a few steps forward, closing some of the distance between them. "And it's Tim, by the way," he said, once he was close enough, and extended a hand to the other boy.

You're good!

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"You could always move into one of the buildings in the City. Some of the ones I cleared out had some pretty nice stuff in them." They no longer have nice stuff, and Howard's Warehouse now has an excess of perfectly-organized odds and ends. Someday he really needs to get around to that yardsale. "Why haven't you? That was like, the first thing I did."

In some odd way, it's nice to run into another insomniac. He doubts Tim's awake because every time he sleeps he dreams of everyone disappearing or of getting eaten alive by bugs or starving, but well, everyone on this ship has problems. Maybe Tim's got nightmares too.

He shifts so he's sitting on his knees, a bit hunched with the pain in his guts. He keeps looking Tim up and down, enemy or not, enemy or not (there is no more generous category than 'not the enemy' tonight). Straight posture - not a slacker. Probably polite around adults, and not for self-serving reasons. Generally, not the body language of a bully.

"Howard," he says, but rather than shaking Tim's hand, he sucks sour juice off his fingers. "You don't want to give me a handshake. I'm all sticky."

[battorch]

"True," Tim agreed, grimacing a little. In reality, he had done that-- he now had both a place in the crew quarters and in the City. More privacy that way. But 'Tim'? He didn't. "I've not really been crashing anywhere in particular anyway," he commented, "I'm just yet to find a place that feels 'homey' enough to get a good night's sleep, I guess." City or otherwise-- and that was true enough. None of these places were comfortable to him. His hideaway in the City was a good place to work from, and that was more or less it. "I take it you've had a little bit better of luck, then? To have at least found a halfway decent place, I mean."

He didn't react to being looked up and down like that (and frankly he'd already done that), though he noted the posture in front of the tree, and was beginning to piece together possibilities in his head. He didn't let his gaze linger, however, and instead just dropped his hand to his side and gave a sheepish smile. "Can't argue with that then," he said. "Nice to meet you anyway, Howard." He shifted, then moved to sit next to the younger teen on the ground, with a bit of space still between them. "Have you been here long?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"I found a pretty awesome place decked out with secret passages and extra storage down by the tracks." But at the moment, that's a pretty hard place to find any sleep too, especially with the disappearing roommate and all. "Figure if I don't mess it up too much, even if the house's owner pops they can't get too mad at me. But if you need help finding a place, I've been in most of the buildings in biking distance."

He twists the corner of his mouth in thought. Tim's not much older than him - if he's staying alone, it means that he probably doesn't have any family onboard, or if he does, is deliberately avoiding them. Tim's friendly enough, at least. Not especially confrontational.

Howard finds that for the moment, he doesn't mind Tim sitting down next to him to keep him company, though he suspects Tim might be performing some sort of charity here. If Tim overstays his welcome Howard can easily reinstate his Hostility Shields.

"A few months, probably. Who knows on this ship? You?" He sees what you did there, Tim, and no, he's not going to mention that he's been here hours now, eating and rocking himself and trying not to freak out. He'll assume you meant Stacy in general.

[battorch]

Tim laughed a bit at that. "Sounds like you hit the jackpot, then," he commented, though his own place wasn't much different, by the sound of it-- he'd sought out something himself that had a little extra 'privacy'. "Can't argue with that logic though," a shake of his head, then, "And thanks. I'll just have to keep looking for something that works, I guess. There's not a lot that can be done."

Tim looked Howard over at the answer to his question, noting full well the choice of his answer. He could have easily answered either-- but he went for the much broader choice. "Fair enough," he said instead, with a quiet laugh. "Same for me. Maybe three or four months." He shrugged, "It kind of blurs together here anyway, doesn't it?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Totally. And now my roommate's gone, so I get the whole place to myself." That's a positive spin to put on it, right? "You think maybe Stacy picked up a piece of your world and dropped it in the City? I mean, some people found their houses."

Tim sounds like he could come from a fairly normal world, maybe not so dissimilar from Howard's before the FAYZ. The accent isn't Californian, but it's definitely American, and so far Tim hasn't brought up zombies or magic.

His hands are shakey again. He flicks his wrist to try and disguise that. "Yeah, it kinda does." Oh, God, that's another thing he doesn't want to think about. What if his sixteenth birthday catches him unaware? It could blindside him, and he was able to resist temptation the first time, but what if it happens again?

He takes another large bite of fruit and swallows despite gagging. He knows he should stop, but very few things ground him like being able to over-indulge. "We probably showed up at the same time. Stacy sent you on any missions yet? I've been on three. I swear each one she sticks me on a bigger clusterfuck than the last."

He's talking kind of fast, the babble that comes from nervousness. He tries to tell himself he's doing Tim a favor, taking Tim's mind off that 'mild insomnia' or whatever.

It's a lie, but it's hard to admit you're both lonely and terrified of other people. Even to yourself.