Maketh Tua (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mismanagement) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2017-01-25 10:41 am
mismanagement) wrote in hadriel_logs2017-01-25 10:41 am
Entry tags:
he was down on the floor with his lips to a glass
Who: Maketh Tua and open
What: Aftermath of the doubles event.
Where: Apartments, Guard HQ
When: 26th and onward
Warnings: Alcoholism, depression, mentions of death and torture, probably swearing. I will match format.
Apartment
[Stars, she's tired. All the time now. Ever since Henry took her home from Hope's temple, she's been drawn to her bed and its blankets, a refuge that she can hide in and forget everything else. Anyone who knows Maketh will have noticed a change in her routine. She's sleeping almost the entire day, getting up only to drink or vomit from the drinking. If she goes out at all, it's in the middle of the night, a move engineered to let her avoid as many people as possible.
The best way to get in touch is to bang on her door, loud enough that she can't ignore it.]
Guard HQ
[Quietly, Maketh has changed all of her shifts to avoid the most people possible. So while she's still performing her duties, she's doing them out of sight and largely around two in the morning. If you've got insomnia and happen to wander in at odd hours, you might see her rewriting damaged reports, or trying to clean the mess off the floor.
Often she keeps a bottle of whiskey on her desk. Not to drink - not when she's working - but as a taunt. She often stares at it.]
Around the city
[By choice Maketh has turned into something of a nocturnal creature, rarely leaving the apartment - or indeed the room - during the day. But at night she goes out, either to check things with the guard or just to wander. Sometimes she goes to the river and tries to imagine what lives at the bottom. Either way she's alone.]
Wildcard
[Dealer's choice. Hit me.]
What: Aftermath of the doubles event.
Where: Apartments, Guard HQ
When: 26th and onward
Warnings: Alcoholism, depression, mentions of death and torture, probably swearing. I will match format.
Apartment
[Stars, she's tired. All the time now. Ever since Henry took her home from Hope's temple, she's been drawn to her bed and its blankets, a refuge that she can hide in and forget everything else. Anyone who knows Maketh will have noticed a change in her routine. She's sleeping almost the entire day, getting up only to drink or vomit from the drinking. If she goes out at all, it's in the middle of the night, a move engineered to let her avoid as many people as possible.
The best way to get in touch is to bang on her door, loud enough that she can't ignore it.]
Guard HQ
[Quietly, Maketh has changed all of her shifts to avoid the most people possible. So while she's still performing her duties, she's doing them out of sight and largely around two in the morning. If you've got insomnia and happen to wander in at odd hours, you might see her rewriting damaged reports, or trying to clean the mess off the floor.
Often she keeps a bottle of whiskey on her desk. Not to drink - not when she's working - but as a taunt. She often stares at it.]
Around the city
[By choice Maketh has turned into something of a nocturnal creature, rarely leaving the apartment - or indeed the room - during the day. But at night she goes out, either to check things with the guard or just to wander. Sometimes she goes to the river and tries to imagine what lives at the bottom. Either way she's alone.]
Wildcard
[Dealer's choice. Hit me.]
no subject
no subject
"Good. Nick probably wouldn't appreciate it very much if you did." Just saying.
no subject
Stars, Nick would be so disappointed if he knew what just happened.
She shivers, then bumps her head against Rey's chest. Just for a moment. "I'm sorry."
no subject
She rests a hand over Maketh's shoulder. Saying that what she did is okay would be another lie.
"Might have broken my brother's nose and attacked my father with a machete once. Believe me, am very familiar with what the start of a break looks like."
no subject
There are rules. There have to be rules.
no subject
"Have long have you been doing that?"
no subject
no subject
"Punching bag helps sometimes. Cathartic. Should get one."
Having something to take any pent up aggression on is one stress relief.
no subject
It wouldn't hurt. It would be better than taking it out on someone else. She's done this before and always regretted it.
Maketh shivers. Tries to smile.
"I--thank you. For...well. I don't know. Not killing me."
no subject
She waves off Maketh's attempt to smile; a silent indication that she is not going to encourage anyone to feign wellness for her sake.
"Please. Wouldn't have killed you over shit like that. Could have knocked you out or something before it came to that." But then no one would have learned anything, would they?
no subject
"I know. But I--appreciate your restraint, nonetheless."
She's quiet a moment.
"I will be better. Perhaps not right now. But--soon."
no subject
Maybe she's gone soft; her claws are dulled. That very well may be, though. This is life now.
"All right." She nods, then glances down with a grimace. "Well, should get cleaned before Nick shows up somewhere."
She straightens the hem of her tanktop. The wound may be closed, but the blood and the hole are still there, practically begging for suspicion. Especially from her roommate. And he doesn't need to start worrying about Maketh's mental stability to think that she might be a potential danger to others.
Even if he'd be a little bit right on that mark.
no subject
no subject
"Not really." Then, a frown. "Am going to have to stockpile on shirts, though. Keep running through them."
Or, rather, they get ruined by things running through her. Usually with something sharp.
no subject
no subject
There is a moment's pause as Rey glances away, then returning her attention back to Maketh.
"Going now. You should eat something, if you can stomach it." Unlikely as that might be.
no subject