Ladon Ceto (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
justamobster) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-06-24 06:59 pm
justamobster) wrote in driftfleet2015-06-24 06:59 pm
Entry tags:
05 // Video
Who: Ladon Ceto and alcohol and self-loathing you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Tourist cockpit
When: Post bug plot.
[ Ladon's been a rare sight lately, mostly because he's either been keeping an eye on Lucky or afterward, keeping to himself. There aren't caves here, so his instinct to hide and try to sulk through the pain has instead been replaced with his more human-like means of coping. That is, he's been getting really drunk and hating the world with every fiber of his being. If there has been a sober moment since he found Lucky's office empty, he can't really recall.
Currently he's seated in the cockpit of the Tourist, and thankfully he's not attempting to do any piloting, because he's definitely not in any state to be doing so. There may not be concrete walls or cliffs in space, but he'd probably find a way to wreck the ship anyway.
Either way, the fact that this broadcast is video is likely the result of those drunken motor skills, because the angle is weird, and he's typically an audio-only user. He's also not dressed as well as usual, gone is the tie and the vest and the suit jacket. His hat is stubbornly glued to his head, but currently he's in an undershirt, suspenders, and the pants from his suit. He also hasn't shaved in a bit, and is looking particularly scruffy.
He rubs at his chin, eliciting a scratchy noise, and he taps his half-empty glass of bourbon against the arm rest. ]
Ain't usually the type t'go givin' unsolicited advice but. [ He sighs. ] Some of you folks know, I been in a place like this before. Space station, was there for 'round a year. Anyhow. These places... they put us through some real shit, yeah? Some real... heavy shit. People hurt and get sick and die and you gotta work together to fix it. You gotta fight together. You gotta take care of each other. S'the only way to stay sane.
[ He takes a drink of the bourbon, winces a bit as it burns its way down. ] What I'm sayin' is... S'hard not to go gettin' attached, yeah? People you meet from other worlds, they ain't so bad, you make friends. Maybe more, hell if I know. But I just gotta say... Don't make the same mistakes I went makin'. Don't get attached. Because it ends, yeah? One way or the other, you go or they go. Best you can hope is you go first, and you fuckin' forget.
Ain't gonna stop most of you, I know. Gotta learn the hard way. But hell if I ain't gonna try sayin' it anyhow. Because I wouldn't wish this on fuckin' anyone.
S'all.
[ And he cuts the feed. He can be found in the pilot chair still some time later, if anyone wants to deal with his drunken ass in person. ]
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Tourist cockpit
When: Post bug plot.
[ Ladon's been a rare sight lately, mostly because he's either been keeping an eye on Lucky or afterward, keeping to himself. There aren't caves here, so his instinct to hide and try to sulk through the pain has instead been replaced with his more human-like means of coping. That is, he's been getting really drunk and hating the world with every fiber of his being. If there has been a sober moment since he found Lucky's office empty, he can't really recall.
Currently he's seated in the cockpit of the Tourist, and thankfully he's not attempting to do any piloting, because he's definitely not in any state to be doing so. There may not be concrete walls or cliffs in space, but he'd probably find a way to wreck the ship anyway.
Either way, the fact that this broadcast is video is likely the result of those drunken motor skills, because the angle is weird, and he's typically an audio-only user. He's also not dressed as well as usual, gone is the tie and the vest and the suit jacket. His hat is stubbornly glued to his head, but currently he's in an undershirt, suspenders, and the pants from his suit. He also hasn't shaved in a bit, and is looking particularly scruffy.
He rubs at his chin, eliciting a scratchy noise, and he taps his half-empty glass of bourbon against the arm rest. ]
Ain't usually the type t'go givin' unsolicited advice but. [ He sighs. ] Some of you folks know, I been in a place like this before. Space station, was there for 'round a year. Anyhow. These places... they put us through some real shit, yeah? Some real... heavy shit. People hurt and get sick and die and you gotta work together to fix it. You gotta fight together. You gotta take care of each other. S'the only way to stay sane.
[ He takes a drink of the bourbon, winces a bit as it burns its way down. ] What I'm sayin' is... S'hard not to go gettin' attached, yeah? People you meet from other worlds, they ain't so bad, you make friends. Maybe more, hell if I know. But I just gotta say... Don't make the same mistakes I went makin'. Don't get attached. Because it ends, yeah? One way or the other, you go or they go. Best you can hope is you go first, and you fuckin' forget.
Ain't gonna stop most of you, I know. Gotta learn the hard way. But hell if I ain't gonna try sayin' it anyhow. Because I wouldn't wish this on fuckin' anyone.
S'all.
[ And he cuts the feed. He can be found in the pilot chair still some time later, if anyone wants to deal with his drunken ass in person. ]
no subject
That's the one. Don't get lost on the way over, all right?
---> Action;
[ Sure enough, Ladon does eventually make his way to the Bloodsport. He's even been considerate enough to bring a bottle of the bourbon he's been working on and a second glass. His gait is a little more of a shuffle than normal and he's still unshaven and surly, but other than that he's managing his liquor. He's grumpy drunk, after all, not fall-over drunk. ]
Robin? You 'round?
Action;
Heeey, you made it! Good on you. C'mon up, pal.
[he drops out of view again--only to reappear near the service ladder and slide his way down to the floor.]
Grim view, right? This whole ship gives me the creeps. [he waves him over, cheerfully.]
no subject
Ladon's glad his legs aren't wobbly from the alcohol. Otherwise, a ladder would be a real issue. ] Dunno if you're a bourbon drinker, but I brought another glass anyhow.
[ It seemed like the polite thing to do. And he's kind of sick of drinking alone anyway. ]