A Test of Faith

[madaboutit]

Who: Mad Sweeney, the Novice and YOU
When: August
Where: All over the Brigantine
Warnings: Mental health, substance abuse, self-harm, violence

What fresh fucking Hell is this? Well, at least he’s not in Nothingness. Hopefully that’s something. It’s hard to tell if this is more of the same or something worse. All Sweeney knows is he needs a fucking smoke.

He pulls the cigarette down from behind his ear and presses it between his lips. His hand slips into his pocket to fish for his lighter. It’s not there.

His brow lowers. Instinctively, his other hand checks its side. Nothing. Jacket pockets. Nothing. Panic starts to set in. He does a second pass with more urgency.

Nothing.

Fuck.

Sweeney takes the cigarette out of his mouth with a heavy sigh. Tucking it behind his ear, he impulsively seeks his flask to take the edge off.

Nothing.

”FUCK.”

----------

I: Week 1 - Exploration and Detox

It’s a rough go of things. Losing access to both alcohol and tobacco cold turkey after countless years is less than ideal. The violation of his Hoard only makes things worse. Sweeney does his best to explore his new prison, but he spends a fair bit of time on the floor of the cabin that he’s taken, shaking as his body fights through its bullshit.

He needs as much assistance as he’s able to come by, if only to help him stay focused on getting through his bad patches and figure out his way around the ship. When he’s able to do so, he makes great effort to find the other Barge passengers, seemingly driven to keep seeking one more every time he finds one.

II: Week 2 - Adjustment

Coming through the other side of his physical challenges, Sweeney’s learning more about the Brigantine and his place on it. He’s committed to the same thing he was on the Barge; graduating and getting the fuck off of it. He’ll do what he has to, including socializing, both with familiar faces and strangers alike. Surely, he can’t be that far away from it. Everyone keeps telling him he’s so close.

However, it’s apparent that in the wake of his magic no longer being suppressed, his Bad Luck is catching up with him. It makes everything more challenging.

III: Week 3 - Adaptation and Slipping

Sweeney’s become aware that the nets pull up people’s shit, and along with it, his shit. He spends as much time as he’s able helping haul nets onto the deck, hurriedly digging through them for his belongings.

Unfortunately, the Deacon seems to think his Madness is a blessing, a spiritual journey to be explored on the way to self-actualization. Which roughly translates to Him being willing to do fuckall to help Sweeney stabilize as his Curse creeps back up on him. His fits become more common, and he’s taken to self-medicating whenever he’s able to locate one of his bottles.

IV: Week 4 - Acceptance

He’s learned the flow of things. Get up, go to work. Nets up, goods down, stash his stuff. He goes to sermons, he tries to maintain a sleep schedule and eat regularly.

It doesn’t help. His fits are getting worse. Longer and more intense, he’s doing his best to stay present. Sweeney’s fighting to find a way around the Deacon’s encouragement of his Madness so he can manage to function, but it’s a sisyphean task.

Please note if you’d like to play with any particular aspect:

a) Clarity - Moments between episodes where he’s fully functional and conversational.
b) Madness - He's succumbing to his Curse; his mind gets caught up in memories of various incarnations, doomed to live them repeatedly, substituting and overlapping current experiences with those of the past.
c) Volatility - Whether it’s detox, his slipping mind, or just plain ol’ stress, sometimes he can’t control himself. He’s prone to impulsiveness, aggression, and violence.
d) Bad Luck - Bad luck's a bitch, and sometimes there's splash damage if one's standing too close. There are times when bad things happen to good (or not so good) people. It can manifest in countless ways to inflict on your character; let your imagination run wild.

[If there is any subject you would like to avoid, just let me know (floofdoodle).]

Comments

Trevor, the Initiate, initial landing

[atowncalledtreffy]

Trevor is...well.

Fucking furious would be an understatement.

The ship he lands on is enormous and feels more like a forest combined with a cathedral than anything else. It's comforting in an annoying sort of way, but he's unspeakably angry over so many, many things out of his control. The floor has been ripped out from under him - out from under all of them - and there's a disappointing number of once-familiar faces gone missing.

One of the few who managed to come with him is Lucy, the loyalest, luckiest dog in the universe. He clutches her leash in one hand and a fucking file in his other as she sniffs the whole of the ship, trying to get her bearings in this strange, strange place.

He carries a pack with him - one of his own, hand-made ones, as they search for people they know. Upon hearing the loudest FUCK in the universe, Lucy barks back and starts pulling Trevor in that direction. They come to a stop outside Sweeney's doorway, as he lets out a long, haggard sigh.

Re: Trevor, the Initiate, initial landing

[madaboutit]

By the time Lucy's able to drag Trevor to Sweeney's doorway, he's already pacing and sending Gaelic curses at the ceiling. On a better day, the foliage would be a welcome reprieve, but today is not that fucking day.

He spins on the figure at the door, ready to fight whatever new threat is showing up in this fucking place. It takes him a few moments to process who it is. It's obviously bad when Sweeney barely notes Lucy's presence. He should be down on the ground in warm greeting, but instead, his eyes snap to Trevor with honed focus.

"What the fuck is this shit?" As if the man would have oodles more information for some reason; like he didn't just get dumped here the same way.

[paradoxi]

Fitz is - interested in new arrivals. A new bunch all at once is particularly interesting, and so he goes hunting for unfamiliar faces, ready to roll out the welcome wagon. The 'welcome wagon' being trying to figure out what might work as temptation, if the person's interesting enough to try that hard.

"Trying to find something?"

[madaboutit]

Being in a foreign place is never comforting, and here is all the less so, given the 'just familiar enough to be completely off-putting' nature of it.

Sweeney frowns sharply at the stranger. He is looking for something. Well, someone. But he sure as fuck isn't interested in anything from this man, even if he might actually be able to help. Sweeney's on guard, ready to fight if he needs to. The man is 'just familiar enough to be completely off-putting'.

"Who the fuck are you?" he snaps.

1 - any aspect you like.

[droppinnoeaves]

It's easy to get lost below decks, and Sam managed it immediately while looking for familiar faces. He started out running, but he's only breaking into an occasional trot now as he approaches intersections, hoping to see the stairs he remembers.

When he comes around one bend and spots that familiar tall shape, his shoulders sag in relief, and he puts on speed again to reach him.

Re: 1 - any aspect you like.

[madaboutit]

The sound of the approach makes Sweeney turn sharply, ready to confront the stranger. But the shape of the fellow is familiar, and his deep frown eases to a crinkle of surprise.

"You too then?" Obviously.

"You unscathed?" He starts to look Sam over, seeing if there's anything he should be worried about.

Week 1

[ersatzeverything]

At night, Deacon (not the Deacon, Deacon the Lesser he sometimes calls himself, or Deacon 2: The Low Budget Sequel, or, sometimes, he just calls himself Rob, Daniel, Sue, or Steve, and occasionally he calls himself Ishmael) sits on the railing of the ship, heedless of the risk of falling overboard. He smokes a cigarette and calls out to Sweeney as he passes by.

"Hey, nice beard," says the man with a clean-shaven face, shaved head and sunglasses over his eyes. He wears nondescript jeans and flannel and his expression is unreadable. "Bet you don't get lost in a crowd easily."

Re: Week 1

[madaboutit]

The unexpected address is met with a frown, but it's more one of causal displease than blunt hostility. Which is a step up from how he's been in the last day or two.

"'cause of the beard?" The answer is dry, because obviously...it's not his most noteworthy feature.

"E'eryone 'round here got naked faces or somethin'?" He gestures vaguely in the man's direction. Sweeney had only met a few strangers, but they were all beardless, now that he's thinking about it. It doesn't hinder the sarcasm of the moment though.

week 1

[kingsroads]

These new arrivals are...odd. The fact that they received so many at once is odd by itself, but the arrivals themselves seem different than normal. To start with, they all know each other, a fact which irritates Strange more than he wants to admit. And aside from that, they all just seem odd personality wise.

The poor tall man who seems to be out of it half the time might be the oddest. When he sees Sweeney in the hall, Strange offers him a water bottle full of water. The water bottle is decorated with some children's cartoon character that he's never seen before.

"Here, drink this. You may keep the bottle, by the way. It isn't even mine to begin with, I fished it out of the nets a month or so ago."

Re: week 1

[madaboutit]

This place is so fucked. Sweeney wishes he could appreciate the environment more; the green nature of it would be soothing if the rest of things weren't terrible. His head won't stop throbbing. He can't even tell if he's actually getting lost while he's trying to make his way around. Everything looks a little too similar while still being utterly weird.

The man's approach is both unexpected and unwelcome, and he frowns at the stranger. Sweeney's fingers flex instinctively, but no fist manifests. Yet.

"Who the fuck are you?" he growls. Even though he's in a sour mood, a lot of his tone is due to having to force the words through gritted teeth as he struggles to push through a wince of pain.

time for azul to get w r e c k e d

[cephalopunk]

Azul knows that filthy mouth. And so he immediately walks towards it. Sweeney was not a friend, more of someone Azul simply knew and was more or less on amicable terms (maybe? he isn't sure after their last conversation). Still, it's familiar, and "more or less on amicable terms" and familiar is a combination that's good enough for Azul, right now.

"Sweeney? That is you, isn't it?"

He's rounding the corner now.

Re: time for azul to get w r e c k e d

[madaboutit]

The name stabs into his head, white fire blinding behind his eyes. Sin buried in brutal sobriety. Sweeney doesn't even realize what he's doing until he's halfway done. By then, he can't stop himself.

It's brutal fists in the face of his pain. He's eager to return it in kind; see it erased in unbridled violence. Just...make it stop.

Nose, gut. Jaw, kidney. Over and over, he's desperate to quiet the searing guilt in his chest.

Week 1 - Deck

[fallenflower]

Tenpou used to be a chainsmoker. These days, he has to ration out his cigarettes with great care, with unpredictable gaps falling between one pack showing up in the nets and the next. He's settled comfortably in the rigging when Sweeney walks by beneath him, one of those precious, stale, oddly old-sock-scented cigarettes between his lips as he lights up, puffs, and exhales a slow stream of smoke.

Re: Week 1 - Deck

[madaboutit]

His stay has been unkind since he arrived, and it increasingly is so. His skin feels too tight and his head hurts all the time. But then it comes, that smell is so fucking welcome, no matter the quality involved.

Like a hound, he tracks the scent easily enough. At least this, this he has trade to offer in kind.

Looking up to the rigging, Sweeney pulls the hand-rolled cigarette from behind his ear. While not particularly fresh, the tobacco is sweetly cured and well cared for.

"Ya gotta light fer that?" He sounds hopeful. He's doing his best to be so.

I

[tucky]

"Sweeney--"

Tiffany's white-hot frustration and anger is palpable, but of course, it's not directed at him: that's clear enough by the way she beelines for him, dropping down onto the floor next to him, refraining from touching him only because she isn't sure he'd want her to when he's in this state.

"What happened to you?"

Re: I

[madaboutit]

The sound of that name sets him on edge, but there's something about it that also tells him that he doesn't need to fight what's coming. Instead, he winces against the light when he cracks an eye to figure out what's going on.

His expression holds confusion when he sees her, like there's something just out of reach, and he blinks purposefully. Things start to clear, but it doesn't help with the rest of the tension in his body. Still, it allows him to offer her a flicker of a smile.

"Hey, Tiff." Things can't be all bad if she's here. Sweeney flexes his fingers and rubs his hand roughly down his face, hoping to right himself further.

"They just took my shit," he answers weakly. His tone implies 'that's all'. Blinking again, he cocks his head to try to look her over.

"You okay?"

Week 3

[loveshishammer]

Thor admittedly gets a little bored sometimes. So he spends a lot of time flying around the ship, diving into the nets with Mjolnir in hand to fish things out. He crouch-lands back on the ship with his free arm full of debris, which he scatters across the deck.

"Anyone looking for any of this?" he bellows to anyone else fishing the nets, including the very tall redhead not far off.

Re: Week 3

[madaboutit]

Sweeney doesn't know what 'this' is, but the answer is YES. He makes his way over, focusing his intent and trying to 'meditate' enough for the Deacon to show mercy and stave off his Luck.

It works well enough. One--no two bottles of rum, but more importantly, his fucking lighter. He'd had to relinquish the one he'd been borrowing, but even if he hadn't, this is a part of him he's grateful to have rejoined. It makes his a touch more complete.

Sweeney brings the metal to his lips and presses them against it. Not a peck so much as a comforting act of reverence.

week 1

[unnecessaryflourishes]

Emet-Selch has been on the Brigantine long enough to have a general feel for its patterns. Enough so that even if the Deacon hadn't make one of his grandiose announcements he would have been aware that something unusual had happened. (It helps, perhaps, that even here he's perfectly able to take note of the arrival of a new soul - provided that he's actually looking for such, and he only rarely is.)

Still, there's no reason to not be as sociable as he can be - he might not genuinely like most people even on a good day, but that's no reason to not be... passingly polite, at the very least. Or even curious, when he's in a mood to be.

It's mostly a coincidence when he comes across Sweeney. But he offers a nod all the same, as he draws near.

"Would I be correct to assume you to be one of our newest arrivals?"

Re: week 1

[madaboutit]

At the address, a furrow sets into his brow, and he looks up to the stranger. He's almost as tall as Sweeney, which is rare enough (especially with all the little 5' nothings he tends to collect). It only takes him a moment to notice a glow, a flickering. Sweeney doesn't know what the man is, just that he is. Because of course. Just something else to remind Sweeney how underwhelming he is.

Sweeney may be unimpressive in many magical capacities, but he is unusual in others. His aether is vibrant, and his soul has a dozen colors swirling, fading in and out as they overlap on each other. He carries a strong air of green things and soil.

He frowns, not being eager to be polite, passingly or otherwise.

"Sure." His voice is gruff, but not aggressive.

"I'm guessin' you ain't." Because--well, even with his general desire to isolate, Sweeney's pretty sure he would have come across this man on the Barge, if only by way of reputation for being weird-looking. And being...whatever he is.

1, leaning into A a bit? (+D if any ideas come to us)

[lifeofsin]

After getting Azul somewhat healed up and functional, he starts looking for Sweeney. Given he's been here so long, he can generally navigate the place quickly. Once he does find him, he gives it a bit. He doesn't want to just head over without having an idea of how the man's doing. The last thing he wants to do is make him feel worse when he's already clearly doing bad.

He will try to wait until Sweeney seems at least a little more stable, taking the time to check in on some of the other Novices. Of course, despite waiting it out, there remains the fact that he doesn't know what the closest to stable is with the redhead. So, given he has no solid idea of what to wait for, he's just going to be taking a chance, listening to his gut. Finally, he approaches when things at least seem to be a little better.

"Yo," he starts, when finally within talking distance, "I wanted to properly greet you, now that things are a little calmer. I'm Jecht. How're you feeling?"

Re: 1, leaning into A a bit? (+D if any ideas come to us)

[madaboutit]

Thank fuck he'd been able to trade for a lighter. It's likely to still be a challenge to get one for himself, but this at least buys him a week. And realistically, at this point, he isn't sure he's going to survive for the week. Too much is unknown and open-ended.

He's smoking when Jecht finds him. The address confuses him a bit, but when he turns to the stranger, he frowns. Not this cunt again. Sweeney instinctively tenses, readying for a fight, even though he would clearly lose it.

"Like you should stay the fuck away from me. I don't need another prick showin' off how much better he is than me at e'erythin'." He coils a touch more.

"I got the message plenty well the first time."

[talesuntold]

Maggie comes looking for him as soon as she leaves Tim, equal parts relieved that he hasn't vanished back to his death and concerned by what Tim mentioned.

"Hey," Maggie calls softly as soon as Sweeney's in sight, wondering if he'll recognize her. If she'll recognize whatever version of himself he is at the moment. She's going to hurry closer, but won't reach for him till she knows what state he's in. "It's so good to see you."

[madaboutit]

Sweeney's taken to wandering the rooms, looking for the ones most suited to him. He keeps coming back to the one Tim had found him in. There's a deep pool of cool water and one corner has a bearing fruit tree. The stone floor seems a little less hewn than some of the other rooms, and it's pleasantly mossy in some places. The bed is barely recognizable, being as covered with moss and clover as it is.

When she finds him, he's in only his trousers, his braces hanging uselessly and his boots laying next to the water's edge. He's standing below the tree, plucking a fruit from it. His hair is damp and finger-combed back. Her address turns his attention back to her. There's a flicker of confusion, then recognition, then a small smile.

"Hey." Sweeney doesn't cross to her, but he does hold out the exotic fruit to her, inviting her into the space.

Networking

[droppinnoeaves]

Sam's settled into dividing his day between two things - searching the detritus of the ship for anything home-like, and working the nets. Short as he is, he's no use on the capstans, but he's a fair hand at climbing, and he takes it on himself to scramble out into the nets, detangling what gets stuck and tries to pull them lopsided.

Samwise has no love for heights, but the great gulf of space feels more like a sea than a drop, and he sets his shoulders and keeps working, keeping his eyes on his hands and the next job as needs doing.

Any coin he finds goes into a pocket of his weskit, and when the team he's working with breaks for luncheon, he takes them to Sweeney. Just in case.

Re: Networking

[madaboutit]

Sweeney's been at this shit for hours, and as such, he's settled in for a rest and some lunch. And by lunch, he means a pouch of red-capped mushrooms, some lukewarm tea transferred from a water-skin to a wooden cup (which has a suspiciously earthy smell, suggesting other mushrooms), and a pipe of something that burns more woody than leafy, like a sweetly-tinted campfire.

When Sam approaches, he looks up with clear confusion. He stares, then blinks, trying to find some context of why this person is approaching him.

"Do ya have a needle?" he inquires without segue, finally making a decision about who the Fellow must be.

"I still haven't found my kit, but I f'gure I can find somethin' suitable fer thread." He sighs.

"I rather not hav'ta make one from fishbone if I don't gotta."