don't call me billy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
omniavincit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
returnjourneylogs2022-05-17 12:55 pm
omniavincit) wrote in returnjourneylogs2022-05-17 12:55 pm
(no subject)
Passengers: William & Claire + potential guests?? (if your char would be in the vicinity, feel free to start a new thread with either one of them)
Location: The Mysterious and Sexy Warden Command
Date: May 15th
Summary: Drinking on the job.
Warnings: William is a mean drunk (I know, crazy)
The theater in warden command is black, save for the light leaking from the imperfectly closed minibar—enough to trace the outline of each seat, reveal a dark shape occupying the end of the row. William hasn't been drunk in who knows how long—since he was a fucking pirate, maybe, and the world a rolling deck—but he's methodical about it, taking slow, regular pulls from the whiskey bottle.
He's read the file by now. CommLink balanced on his leg, he flicks the words up and down the screen. He's not so far gone he can't make out the names: Sylvia, Hunter, Jeane Jeane Jeane. He wonders—all he'll ever be able to do—what Harry thought when he was served up William's family, whether he was surprised or appalled or just didn't care. He thinks of inmates on the Barge, how willing some of them had been to wring every drop of tragedy from their lives.
He takes another drink and starts over. He'll stop when the words blur.
Location: The Mysterious and Sexy Warden Command
Date: May 15th
Summary: Drinking on the job.
Warnings: William is a mean drunk (I know, crazy)
The theater in warden command is black, save for the light leaking from the imperfectly closed minibar—enough to trace the outline of each seat, reveal a dark shape occupying the end of the row. William hasn't been drunk in who knows how long—since he was a fucking pirate, maybe, and the world a rolling deck—but he's methodical about it, taking slow, regular pulls from the whiskey bottle.
He's read the file by now. CommLink balanced on his leg, he flicks the words up and down the screen. He's not so far gone he can't make out the names: Sylvia, Hunter, Jeane Jeane Jeane. He wonders—all he'll ever be able to do—what Harry thought when he was served up William's family, whether he was surprised or appalled or just didn't care. He thinks of inmates on the Barge, how willing some of them had been to wring every drop of tragedy from their lives.
He takes another drink and starts over. He'll stop when the words blur.
no subject
“But I bet it didn't feel that way.”
no subject
"But, even before that, the Senate-That-Was, they couldn't be bothered with Tatooine. We weren't a part of it, and their rules were useless in Hutt space."