Jack Spicer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
monkey_wrench) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
goneawayworld2020-08-15 08:20 pm
monkey_wrench) wrote in goneawayworld2020-08-15 08:20 pm
Entry tags:
Who Can Get Rest in This Place?
Who: Stacia and anyone else who's intrested.
What: Dealing with night terrors, + some random hanging out opportunities.
Where: Stacia and Jack's room, outside the training room, in the R&D Lab
When: After Mem-share
Warnings/Notes: Small mention of blood in option 2. Otherwise tba.
1 Restless Night [locked to Stacia]
[It doesn’t take much to wake Jack most nights. Years of getting used to villains and heroes alike spontaneously bursting into his lab at all hours of the day and night, plus a ghost witch housemate that liked to scare him awake when his sleep schedule didn’t work for her nebulous time tables, have all conditioned him to be a light sleeper.
So Stacia’s habitual night thrashing was more than enough to startle him awake. He’d only made the mistake of trying to rouse her out of her fitful nightmares once. One good punch to the nose was enough to get across what a bad idea that was. Even in her sleep his roomie apparently had one hell of a left hook.
So instead he usually just grudgingly pulled his pillow over his head until she eventually woke herself, threw her own thin Jorgmund approved blanket over onto his bed, and headed out for...wherever it was she went on her night walks.
But tonight, he wasn’t exactly having the best night sleep himself, so when the thrashing starts he gives up on the idea with a frustrated sigh. And when she eventually wakes, he throws her a tired wave and groggy greeting, face still half planted in his pillow.]
Sup?
2 Morning Exercise is Supposed to be Healthy, Right?
[Coming out of the training room doors, Jack has clearly had better days, even just getting the doors to open seems to take more effort than it should. Planker’s determination to up his game hasn’t been treating him well. Here he’d thought all his time dealing with Showdowns would have prepared him for most of what this world could throw at him but Planker was quickly proving that dead wrong.
Slumping against the wall next to the doors, he takes a moment to gather himself before trying to make it to the showers. And when he hears one of the others come through the doors, he addresses them before even bothering to look up to see who it is, just wanting to bitch at whoever is forced to hear it in the moment.]
I swear [He makes a swipe at a smudge of blood trickling from his nose.], when the uprising happens, I don’t know who I’m going to vaporize first, Dickwash, or Planker.
3 A Little R&D
[A little stereo made from what looked like quickly slapped together scrap metal sounded off from Jack’s cramped workspace in the R&D Lab. Kept on low with the insistence that he “needed it for his process”. And whatever little room he had left to work with was busy. Piled up with blueprints, scattered equations, sketches, rough outlines, and the beginnings of various projects. As if he can’t keep his mind on just one idea at a time. His area’s bad enough it’s starting to spill out onto the floor around him. In particular, there’s a robotic arm set on the floor, twitching, and flailing in every possible direction as he very pointedly ignores it and continues working on yet another new blueprint.]
What: Dealing with night terrors, + some random hanging out opportunities.
Where: Stacia and Jack's room, outside the training room, in the R&D Lab
When: After Mem-share
Warnings/Notes: Small mention of blood in option 2. Otherwise tba.
1 Restless Night [locked to Stacia]
[It doesn’t take much to wake Jack most nights. Years of getting used to villains and heroes alike spontaneously bursting into his lab at all hours of the day and night, plus a ghost witch housemate that liked to scare him awake when his sleep schedule didn’t work for her nebulous time tables, have all conditioned him to be a light sleeper.
So Stacia’s habitual night thrashing was more than enough to startle him awake. He’d only made the mistake of trying to rouse her out of her fitful nightmares once. One good punch to the nose was enough to get across what a bad idea that was. Even in her sleep his roomie apparently had one hell of a left hook.
So instead he usually just grudgingly pulled his pillow over his head until she eventually woke herself, threw her own thin Jorgmund approved blanket over onto his bed, and headed out for...wherever it was she went on her night walks.
But tonight, he wasn’t exactly having the best night sleep himself, so when the thrashing starts he gives up on the idea with a frustrated sigh. And when she eventually wakes, he throws her a tired wave and groggy greeting, face still half planted in his pillow.]
Sup?
2 Morning Exercise is Supposed to be Healthy, Right?
[Coming out of the training room doors, Jack has clearly had better days, even just getting the doors to open seems to take more effort than it should. Planker’s determination to up his game hasn’t been treating him well. Here he’d thought all his time dealing with Showdowns would have prepared him for most of what this world could throw at him but Planker was quickly proving that dead wrong.
Slumping against the wall next to the doors, he takes a moment to gather himself before trying to make it to the showers. And when he hears one of the others come through the doors, he addresses them before even bothering to look up to see who it is, just wanting to bitch at whoever is forced to hear it in the moment.]
I swear [He makes a swipe at a smudge of blood trickling from his nose.], when the uprising happens, I don’t know who I’m going to vaporize first, Dickwash, or Planker.
3 A Little R&D
[A little stereo made from what looked like quickly slapped together scrap metal sounded off from Jack’s cramped workspace in the R&D Lab. Kept on low with the insistence that he “needed it for his process”. And whatever little room he had left to work with was busy. Piled up with blueprints, scattered equations, sketches, rough outlines, and the beginnings of various projects. As if he can’t keep his mind on just one idea at a time. His area’s bad enough it’s starting to spill out onto the floor around him. In particular, there’s a robotic arm set on the floor, twitching, and flailing in every possible direction as he very pointedly ignores it and continues working on yet another new blueprint.]
Restless Night
[She pauses, blanket still in her hands.]
Nothing much. Nightmares.
[She's not much for talking when she first wakes up. Adrenaline only does so much.]
Re: Restless Night
Yeah, kinda figured. [There’s a pause, feeling like he should say something to lighten the mood a little.] That or you got a new found dedication to your workout regiment that would make Planker jealous. [Not the best joke. But it’s stupid-o-clock in the morning, not a great time for wit.]
whoops, sorry, somehow misplaced this!
Yeah, no, just...nightmares. Haven't been able to shake some of the shit I've seen.
[Or, you know, done. She hefts her blanket in his direction.]
Didn't mean to wake you. Sorry. But I figured you could use the extra blanket, since I'm not gonna get back to sleep for awhile.
2
Shooting him an uncertain look, their eyes are drawn to the trickle of blood.]
Uh... You're kinda leaking.
[That's bad, isn't it??]
no subject
When they point out his bloody nose he glances down at the smudge of blood on his thumb before giving them a dry smile.]
Yeah, that can happen when one of us organics lands on the floor with their face.
Could be worse, [He adds with a shrug and the flash of a teasing grin that’s more cruel than playful.] at least I don’t have to worry about my face breaking into a billion little pieces. [Not easily at any rate.]
3
But the robotic arm is interesting. Robot arms are always trendy, it seems, and Robbie can’t resist picking it up and looking over the still moving limb.
Two seconds later, he’s re-enacting a scene from one of those possessed hand movies. He’s seen at least three.
3
This was a bit smaller than her own work area. Then again, with the number of drones and advancements she'd already handed over to Jorgmund, Alia isn't particularly surprised. Results are rewarded, and from the looks of things, Jack's jumping from project to project far too swiftly to get much completed.
It may also be the clutter. Alia's workspace is... much more organized. Almost optimized, at least as best as she can manage it with these primitive tools.
He was supposed to be good with machines, yes? At least that's what he had claimed. She kneels for a moment, scooping up the arm, and examines it dispassionately, trying to match up its development compared to the world of the 2200s.
...Did he know she was there? Alia turns the arm over, then makes a noise like she's clearing her throat. "A believer in organized chaos, Spicer?"