driftfleet | Happy Twenty...Somethingish...

Entry tags:

Happy Twenty...Somethingish...

Who: Anyone!
Broadcast: N/A
Action: A nice stretch of beach.
When: The night of this post.

[It's a party! Or it's an excuse to enjoy yourself and drink with friends, whatever. Beach, bonfire, booze, birthday cake, and maybe a beach volleyball game ~~sob~~. Anyone who knows Nami is invited, but if you just want to wander by and get dragged into the festivities, well hey! It's a public beach.

In short, it's a mingle log for having one hell of a night. The ponies are in charge of this party, so you just know it's gonna be festive.]

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[A sober Sam would feel downright bashful and shy away from the idea of someone taking a picture of him lingering on a bed — and... yeah, drunk Sam is also pretty embarrassed at the thought, too, but he is far more likely to let it be (see: alien orgies, Sam, come the fuck on). So he gives a blushing grin at the camera anyway.]

Swiss or cheddar?

[... What a loser. How embarrassing.

He also proceeds to flop over and sigh loudly, like an obnoxious little brother who has been stuck in the back of the car for way too long on a road trip. But Sam has always been annoyingly complicated about his moods when it comes to laying down and staring at his ceiling. Maybe guiltily. Dean's been in bad moods, and back home, Dean's stuck on a submarine and Sam's probably dying, and Cas is possessed, and...]

Not always a bad thing, to be compared t'Dean.

He's really inventive... Made his own ghost detector, uh, thingy once. And he actually is a really good cook, when he's in the mood to be a hen. Yeah. He's pretty cool, I guess. That's how you know I'm drunk — saying he's cool. He's not, but he is, or whatever.

[The drunken ramblings of a Winchester, Nami. Enjoy.]

[Baw, Sam. You're drunk, and drunk people mood swing, and she thinks fuzzily that she should probably try keeping things light before you fall down a dark tunnel where missing Dean is concerned. She's real tired, though...

Taking a picture or three. To be honest, she just kinda clicks it haphazardly, so if she's lucky she maybe got a good shot of Sam and some of, like, his pillow with his tangled hair in the corner or something. Then Nami shifts around to face him instead, chin resting on her folded arms by his side and smiling drowsily.]

So what you're saying is, being smart runs in the family. Just in different ways. I guess I can live with that.

[SNORT.]

Dad n' Dean were always better hunters than me. Jerks. I had to get into books because I couldn't keep up when I was younger, not for a while. Then I turned into a tree.

[He chuckles at the thought, but his eyelids are feeling particularly heavy. One of those pictures is totally just him like this. Lame-o.]

Don't tell Dean I said he's better, though. He'll get a big head.

I won't tell him. But you have to tell me how you turned into a tree. [Partway between amusement and dread on that one.] Tell me you don't mean literally.

[He chuckles, rolling his eyes to the heavens, as if praying to never become a goddamn tree.]

Not literally — not yet...

... Been a car, though...

[|DDDDD]

[A car. The fast awesome thing on wheels that belonged to Shawn, right? That was fun. But most definitely not human. Definitely not human. Made, manmade, of steel and--

No, she's just too drunk for this.]

Okay, that's it.

[She hauls herself up and flumps down on the bed itself, above the covers, and just gives Sam the blandest of looks.]

I'll go home when you finish telling me how it makes any sense what-so-ever that you became a car.

[Smiling against the pillow, he says:]

Alright, alright. I'll tell you about that whole stupid mess.

[Basically, he begins to tell you the whole tale that is Changing Channels.

Hope you're capable of staying awake through some of it. If he even is.]

[Hahaha NOPE. Though she's curious, she's also drunk too much herself, and combined with her antibiotics it's not long before she shifts comfortably on the bed and tucks the far corner of Sam's blanket over her shoulders. Still listening, I swear. But her eyes drift shut and she dozes off with a goofy smile on her face.

This sleeping together thing seems to be becoming a habit, Sam. Just in the entirely comfy and literal fashion. (Shippers in the Atroma audience are probably frustrated af but too bad.) And sleep is restful enough at first, shot through with colourful and bizarre bits of dreams.]

[...that eventually turn darker when she gets cold in the middle of the night and burrows a little closer to the other source of warmth in the bed. Hunger that feels carved into shaking hands and aching muscles, and hurt and betrayal a mile deep. She dreams of Sam in a luxurious room, and a woman with dark hair and eyes, and in some distance part of herself Nami wants to backpedal right out of the room when he throws the woman down on the bed, because it's obvious where this is going, right?

Then he pulls the knife, and suddenly it's horrifyingly apparent what all that painful hunger is for.

---

She wakes up soon after with a strangled sound and rolls straight off the bed.]

[Sam's reaction to his own memories isn't so abrupt and vocal — it's more of a festering sad dream, the kind that leaves you restless when you wake up. He'd known a little about Nami; he knew her childhood was rough, knew that Arlong played a heavy hand in that and had taken her mother ruthlessly from her, but it's one thing to hear about it and another to feel it.

He wakes up not from the terrible sensation of loss, of hunger and weariness, but from Nami's dramatic flailing. Jackknifing up to sit, he looks over with a wild head of hair and trips over himself in the tangle of sheets in his attempt to peer down at her from the bed.]

Whoa!! Are you alright?

[Freaky memory-dream later, concern right now.]

No. [She almost flinches at the sound of Sam's voice, which is stupid, but she's still waking up, sorting out threads of that dream from reality. Takes her a moment to realise she's on the floor, but...ugh. She can still taste blood and it's vile. Her stomach is roiling. What a horrible dream.]

Bad dreams. That's all.

[Like you'd ever drink blood, seriously.

Right?]

..... Um. Bad dreams about... uh, your childhood?

[He's just. Wondering. Because memories have been passed around, but...

He's kind of hoping you didn't get anything from him. :|]

[Nami gives him a sharp look from the ground, because that was an awfully specific question. But it doesn't take more than a moment for her to remember the planet they're visiting when he asks, and her look morphs into one of confusion.]

...no. No, I uh.

...dreamt about you, actually.

[That couldn't possibly have been real. She sits up, wincing as low level nausea settles in, but this time at least it just feels like a hangover. Haven't had one of those in a long time.] I think it was just a dream, though. Weird one.

... Oh.

[Maybe a little concern colors his face, alright?

Because... Well, maybe if he focuses on her side, this'll be infinitely easier.]

I um. I dreamed about — after Arlong. You mapping things.

[You can fill in the blanks on that, right?]

[Just a bit. Nice distraction, Sam-- there's a moment where she looks at him blankly before she breaks into a rueful smile, eyes sliding away to look at the blankets.]

That must've been dull. Unless you have more of an interest in mapmaking than I realised.

[She's not stupid enough to think that's all he saw, but she can hope, right? It's not exactly a secret, but it's also not stuff she cares to inflict on other people.]

[His smile is a bit strained, and most certainly sad.]

... No, it was...

[Terrible. Sad. Awful.]

I'm sorry you had to go through that kind of thing.

[He's been hungry before, but despite all of his father and brother's exotic and often self-destructive ways of living, it really hasn't been common that he's gone too long without a meal. Likewise, he didn't have to worry about being unloved where he was essentially boxed in. He was, and he had his brother and father, or at least one of them mostly. Even if things were rough, he at least had that.

Sometimes he can't help but wonder if he should have appreciated it all more, seeing how other people have had to cope in their adolescence.]

Edited 2016-11-05 10:46 (UTC)

Don't be.

[Softly. She pulls her fingers through her hair to smooth out the tangles, wondering how to put this. What she's been through is child's play compared to so many other people. It hurt like hell, but it's also over.

..hmm.]

Arlong is a monster, and I hate that he ever came to my village. But he's also imprisoned now, and he's never getting out... and if he hadn't been a part of my life, I'd never have met Luffy. [It's one amazing thing that came out of years of grief, and so she'll look on the bright side.]

I've moved on. And I'm happy, so. My crew makes me happy. [She meets his gaze with a lopsided smile.] So it's okay.

[He smiles a little, proud to hear it from her. She's always been strong — stronger than him in a lot of ways, really. Curling his arms around his knees and leaning back against the bed-frame, he can't help but feel a little warmer.]

You make your crew happy.

[A bit of a grin.]

... And alive at least half the time, honestly.

Damn straight. [Yeah, let's not dwell on Arlong. She still dreams about him sometimes, you know? Sometimes they're nightmares and sometimes she's murdering him. Half and half.]

My life's an open book, anyway. If you're ever curious about anything, all you need to do is ask.

[Which is a genuine offer!

...she's not thinking about what she dreamt at all. Because what the fuck. But let's see what the response is there.]

[His eyebrows raise slowly, and he swallows a lump.

It feels... wrong, to say otherwise for himself.

She's offering that kind of incredible thing, to be so open with him — which is really a sign of trust, right? — that he feels like... he really has no option but to be the same. Because what kind of asshole is he, to accept that but deny her his own story? Especially when she knows so much of his painful history?]

... The same with me. I mean... You know a lot of terrible crap.

So, um. Same.

[And there's the invitation. Nami bites her lip, fingers plucking a little at his blanket.]

I know a lot, but not all of it. But I don't think it'll change things, no matter what you tell me. [Let's be real, she's already heard worse stuff than what he could possibly tell her now. She hesitates.]

I dreamt you were drinking blood.

[And just like that, he pales.

And glances away, shame flooding his features, hand rubbing down his chin.]

... I, uh... I see.

[Yeah, Sam, very informative. Good job.

It's clear that it's nothing good. Not that... the memory would have suggested otherwise.]

... I was.... um. I was. A long time ago.

[Oh, Sam. The confirmation makes her stomach turn, but she feels guilt for provoking that kind of reaction from him. But still. She has to know.]

...

Tell me about it?

[It's a small voice asking a not so small question.]

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