Oblivion ::: An Original RP

Who: Slav and Andie
When: Just after noon
Where: Cult of Dionysus

The Parental Units were fighting again. Which, in a Jones Boy's world, was a daily event, and not only expected but they had learned to try to plan around such blow ups, anticipate them. Slav didn't have the shop here, where he could escape under the hood of some classic 'vette, classic rock blaring, chatting it up with Betty. Occasionally being dragged by what was probably his best friend, into the back of some car for some fun when she decided they should have a break. They had an odd friendship, what could he say.

Even in his thoughts, Slav was easily distracted.

He had ended up at the Cult with the rumble of his stomach telling him he should eat. Which was nice, the stomach rumbling, he usually forgot about it soon after, but this time it was timely and just when he was bypassing someplace with food. An order of an extremely delicious burger, steak fries and a beer later, the beer only because he could order one on the ship, and he had wandered over to one of the available pool tables to play. His more than half full beer was set on a nearby small table, he quickly had a pool cue in hand and blew his hair out of his face with a puff of breath.

Who: Andie and Slav.
When: Early afternoon.
Where: Thalia's Diner.
What: A random encounter at the diner.

( It was a step in the right direction. )

Who: Andie and Dylan.
When: Early afternoon.
Where: Dylan's room on the H Deck.

The task of getting boarded on the ship felt a lot more tedious than it should have. It was why Andie was so happy to get her things settled in her room, where she could be alone in blissful silence for more than five seconds at a time. It was time to recharge. In her room, she could quietly sit down on the sofa, spin her pack of cigarettes on her knee, and consider going out on the balcony for a quick smoke. When they’d officially set sail she’d had a mild panic attack. What, exactly, had she signed herself up for? No matter what the price tag (or there lack of) was for this little vacation, she’d subjected herself to endless days of awkwardness. It wasn’t free, really; it was costing a little piece of her pride.

Time at least went by a little swifter while she was in her room exploring or on the balcony smoking, but it also meant that her routine as the shut-in had to come to an end. Dylan’s room was just beside her own, which was comforting to know. She didn’t even bother to put her Converse sneakers back on before going to visit him—Andie just waltzed up to his door in her bare feet. She’d managed to dress down since arriving on board; now in a pair of denim shorts instead of the skirt she’d worn earlier in the morning. There was a sort of Plain Jane southern aesthetic about her now, and she wore it with a greater level of comfort.

She knocked on Dylan’s door and then leaned against the frame with her arms folded over her chest. When he didn’t answer immediately, she kicked at the door with the base of her foot impatiently. “Come on, Dylan,” she said with a smirk. “You don’t have to waste time checking your hair in the mirror—it’s just me.”