What the hell is happening? Who: Lucy (solo) When: Starting at 9pm until after midnight Where: her room
After her trip to the library, Lucy was feeling quite inspired. She had brought with her a small easel, some small canvases and a selection of watercolor paints. She set up her easel, hoping that it would stand on it's own amid the constant rocking of the ship.
She could always tell when it was happening. The hair on the back of her neck would stand up and she always felt jittery, anxious to get it out. So when Lucy started painting, she could feel her eyes glaze over and her hand started dancing over the canvas.
It felt like mere minutes later, Lucy stepped back to look at what she had drawn. She sucked her breath in with shock. Reflected on the canvas was her father's face. Before she could deal with why the hell she was painting him, the boat rocked. The motion sent her flying into the wall. Instinct had her ducking her head and twisting her body so she would not sustain another head injury.
Lucy's eyes popped open in terror as she smelled the woodsy, pine scent of gin - a drink that her father favored. Before it could register, the boat moved again and she was sent crashing into the opposite wall. Again the boat tiled and this time she caught her knee on the corner of the dresser. She cried out in pain before being tossed yet again.
The boat stopped treating her like a tennis ball and held still - almost too still. Lucy was quite distrustful that gravity had been restored. She looked around the room suspiciously, half expecting her father to be in the room. He wasn't of course. The painting she had finished remained completely unmoved during...whatever the hell that was. Her father was leering down at her from the canvas, sending chills down her spine.
Lucy finally got the courage to stand up. She looked around her room and discovered that it was wrecked. With the exception of her painting of course. The one thing she would have wanted to get destroyed had somehow made it. Karma was having a good time with her. That was the only explanation.
Being deaf was a definite disadvantage right about now. Lucy managed to find a notepad and a pen amongst the mess on the floor. She ventured out of her room and found a crew member who quickly wrote to her that they had been in a storm and that everything was okay now. The crew member assured her that her room would be cleaned and restored at first light tomorrow. He wanted to take her to the medical bay, but Lucy told him that the only thing really hurt was her knee and she just needed to ice it for a couple of days.
Lucy went back to her room and stared at the mess. She was in no mood to clean it up. She looked at the painting and fought back the urge to smash it against the wall. Lucy noticed the digital clock which said 12:00. Her eyes slid back to the canvas and she thought, "Happy fucking New Years, dad."