championoftime | [Audio]

[Audio]

[Private to Jesse]

[He's trying not to be exhausted with everything. He's never been fond of death in any form or fashion. So he's tinkering and clanging, and in the background there's the light sounds of tinkering and the painful awareness that he's now the only one of himself around on the ship. He's not actually slept during port and since port. Since he's been working in the infirmary. But he's a Time Lord so that's more okay than it would be for most people]

Mr. Pinkman, where would you like to meet?

[Private to Friends, Family, and Companions]

It's ridiculous to ask if you're all right. I would be amazed if anyone who wondered into that place was [and he sincerely wishes he hadn't seen places like it, places that would kill you for being sad] but I must know.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A blue box with what sounds to him like a game room? He thinks it sounds kind of awesome, but when he gets there and sees it's just one of those old telephone booths, he's pretty disappointed.

Until he gets inside the box, anyway.] Whoa. Sick.

[Ace always called it "Wicked". Sick was perhaps an improvement? Maybe? Ah well. He's at the console fussing over some wiring, which he unceremoniously jams into the panel when he's done and wipes his hands on his blazer.]

Good afternoon, Mr. Pinkman. Or as good as it can get under the circumstances. Everyone had a very difficult weekend.

I've a few questions to ask you.

[The central pylon was rising and falling. He wasn't going anywhere, no intention to dart around the ship quite yet. Just running an experiment or two to keep his mind off what he was going to have to go back to. You're legitimately interested in science? Would you like to continue pursuing it?

[At his last warden meeting, he'd been nervous, cagey, defensive. Now, there's a certain wariness about him, even as he admires the TARDIS, but none of the open hostility he'd shown John Locke. He knows what's coming.

Well, he thought so, anyway, but the question catches him slightly off-guard. He turns his attention away from the series of tubes he's peering at, glancing quizzically back at the Doctor. What's that got to do with anything?]

Not... really. I mean, I'm working with Narvin and all, but...

Then if you find a job you'd prefer I could place you there. No one should be stuck in a profession they have no interest in when they have the option of retreating from it. The option is open to you.

[He moved around the console, still fussing around with it, paying attention to Jesse but flitting around uncertainly.] Have you spoken with Mr. White recently?

Edited (icon repetition noooo) 2012-03-01 08:07 (UTC)

[Shrug.] It's fine. Who cares? It's just a time-killer anyway, right? It's not like I'd be making any cheddar either way.

[He turns to watch him fiddle, which means he's just relaxed enough to again be caught by the next question. But this is more in the line he's been expecting, and now his eyes narrow warily.] He's in a coma, actually. Talk about what?

The way I see occupations aboard this ship is that they should be an opportunity to give you skills when you leave here. I'm not certain the skill to tolerate superiors that are entirely too aware that they are "superior" should be something you carry back to the real world.

And just talk at the moment. I haven't seen him about and I might have to have someone check his room. [He rubbed his mouth as he pondered.]

He's fine, far as I know. Just sleeping. [Not that he goes to check on him twice a day or anything.]

[But hey, it turns out he still doesn't really want to talk about Mr. White, so back to the previous topic.] You don't think learning how to deal with shithead bosses is a like transferable skill? That seems like pretty much a, uh, universal constant to me.

I think it's far too transferable as I've never been one to willingly cooperate unless I knew someone deserved that cooperation. But perhaps that will be something addressed later. I just spent four days around a company that treated their interns as disposable meat. You're definitely far from that level of endangerment.

[He looks a little repulsed considering the island. Sneering as goes back to fiddling with some settings.]

Yeah... I heard about that. [There's a sympathetic note in his voice, now. He leans against something that hopefully isn't important, sticking his hands in his pockets.] Guess I lucked out, not going. You make it through okay?

Yes, but both the people I attempted to help were caught after we were separated. [He takes off his hat and runs his hand awkwardly through his hair.] It was despicable. Half of the individuals were "zydrate" addicted and are currently going through pronounced withdrawal symptoms.

Was anyone you knew wounded?

[His eyes, of course, flicker at the words 'addicted' and 'withdrawal,' although he tries to keep from looking... anything, like he's reacting to that, because it's probably bait anyways, right? He licks his lips and glances away, shaking his head.]

Couple people... but nothing serious, this time. [Because the person in his life who was the most seriously hurt had been with him the entire damn time.]

[He's honestly considering it a miracle Jesse didn't go, because he might have gotten addicted to that stuff.]

I wish I could say "that's good" but I'll say that I'm glad you were so fortunate. [Too many people hurt otherwise.] There had better be some graduations out of this because this is nigh on unforgivable.

[A-ha.] So you still think the stuff that happens here, that all happens for a reason? [His voice is as neutral as it can be, but his eyes are intent on the Doctor's face.]

This ship- [He motions around him] -occasionally and purposefully overrides my commands because she's aware of disastrous occurrences in history where intervention is required. Not precisely mine. Frequently I have company on my voyages, and she'll place us in difficult situations to correct the matter.

The Barge itself has similar capacities, and it's purpose is people directed rather than history directed.

Oh yes, I think its "accidents" are meant to teach some of us a lesson. [He doesn't sound too happy about it.] And it happens more often than my ship tends to by far.

And the throwing us all together, putting little kids together with serial killers and all, what's the lesson supposed to be there? What's that supposed to teach?

I couldn't tell you that. I don't even believe this ship legitimately helps everyone. I've seen it do significant harm. But there are entire worlds where children and death being in proximity are more common than horrific bosses and there had better well be one less murderous person because of this mess.

[He finally steps away from the console.]

Yeah, I know. Cat-- Arya's from a shithole just like that. [So is he, of late. His lips thin and he looks away again.] But this place ain't doing jack for her.

I'm inclined to agree. In many cases it doesn't help anyone and embitters even the most experienced of us. I had an friend, an inmate, I did my very best to help him, despite the entire vessel acting as though counter-intuitively to all of my efforts. He wasn't my inmate. Just a friend.

Do you believe you're helping her any?

[It takes him a second to admit it, but:] No.

I mean, she's got people who care about her and aren't just gonna die on her or take off, and that's awesome, but... that's not enough to change nothing. Not if the problem's bigger than that.

It's likely that you're helping as long as you're a friend and you're here. Dr. McCoy is a good man and stubborn to a valuable fault. He'll tend to that larger problem.

No, man, you're not listening to me. She hasn't changed at all. She's not changing. And how even can she, in a place like this?

I very sincerely believe what frequently makes people unable to change here is being left behind repetitively. Over and over.

I trust that Dr. McCoy won't abandon her. Not without the ship doing its typical trickery. But it even dismissing people without cause as it so frequently does makes things infinitely more difficult.

[His jaw tightens with frustration, but he forces it to relax. It's not worth arguing about this, right? The guy's gonna figure out what he's in for sooner or later.]

Yeah, man, whatever. I'm sure you're right. And I'm sure there's some magic, like, combination of words that'll convince her that all the killing people is a bad thing, even if every damn thing here says the opposite.

[There's a momentary challenge in his eyes: what would you say? But he moves on quickly before the Doctor can reply, standing up to wander around the console.]

So what'd you want to talk about? Gale, Mr. White. The drugs? Pretty sure John started with the drugs, but I was lit that whole month, so who knows, right?

Edited 2012-03-01 23:41 (UTC)

Not everything. I assure you, not everyone believes so. I don't and nothing has convinced me otherwise.

[He raises a brow.] I just wanted to touch base at first. The part I want to know about the drugs is if you are off them willingly or because you're unable to procure them. Otherwise I'd prefer to wait for that part of the discussion. At least until the majority of the death tolls are out of the infirmary.

[He shakes his head.] I'm clean for real, yo. Almost four months. [What he doesn't add is that he could easily procure if he wanted to -- and almost did, not all that long ago.] I don't even drink.

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