067. In The Evening

[samson]

[In the early evening, Brock can be found at the archery range alternately shooting his crossbow at targets or using throwing knives. He is... pretty bad.

Also pretty bad is his constant swearing about how terrible he is. It's just awful. Embarrassing even.

But he's still trying. Just getting more and more pissed off as he goes on.]

[Brock's voice comes over the journal in the evening, tone flat.]

I need to know if anybody has experience with like... really bad depth perception. Don't ask. I just need advice.

Comments

dictated;

[gottaknockhard]

[-- Hey. Brock isn't dead. Why didn't anyone tell him? (Because he went a little crazy for a while? Because he knows he was checking before that.) It actually takes him a minute to make this connection, but it'll come to him.]

Advice, huh?

[The best way to say 'welcome back' is to skip right over it...]

dictated;

[samson]

[Wow Spike, maybe pay attention to these things more!!!]

Yeah. I don't know if anybody's gonna be able to help though.

dictated;

[gottaknockhard]

[Hey, Brock is the one who never noticed that his good buddy has a fake eye. (...not the same.) He knows about this stuff.]

This isn't something about Molotov, is it?

dictated;

[samson]

Not... directly... [More like he just doesn't want her help because it's embarrassing.]

I mean, she's been missing an eye since we were kids. She probably doesn't need the advice.

dictated;

[gottaknockhard]

[...And it's clicking.]

Oh. [He doesn't blame him. He wouldn't ask Molotov even if he was married to her either. -- Spike may be tapping on the side of his journal, debating on what to say.] Well, there's probably someone else.

dictated;

[samson]

[He loves his wife, you know, she can just be... overbearing....]

Yeah, I don't know. Haven't seen that many pirates around lately.

dictated;

[gottaknockhard]

[Mhm.]

Sometimes you have to settle.

dictated;

[samson]

Not the advice I was hoping for...

dictated;

[gottaknockhard]

I could drop by.

dictated;

[samson]

[......uh.] You have two eyes. Unless something happened when I was dead.

dictated;

[gottaknockhard]

I used to be a pirate.

dictated;

[samson]

...I've been here too long because I can't tell if that's a joke or if you're referencing that one time we were stuck on boats.

dictated;

[gottaknockhard]

I did have an eyepatch.

dictated;

[samson]

You know what, fine. I'll take all the help I can get by this point.

I'm at the shooting range.

dictated;

[gottaknockhard]

[There's no ulterior motive at work here, he's just that helpful of a guy.]

I'll see you there.

[samson]

[Not that Brock thinks Spike has an ulterior motive, but he does not strike him as particularly... helpful, no.

Still, he's just going to keep trying -- and failing -- to hit the target as he waits.]

[gottaknockhard]

[Whatever his reason, it couldn't be so simple as seeing if he's talking to his friend or hallucinating this entire conversation.

Because that could happen.

Spike shows up at the shooting range a short walk after, just sort of entering slowly. Maybe remembering taking someone there, but quickly turning his attention to Brock and his unfortunate aim. He hangs back for a while before he pipes up from behind.]

You're going to wear out your arm if you don't take a break, you know. [It's an excuse for him, if he wants it. Spike would go along as a courtesy to the recently resurrected.]

[samson]

[Brock's half blind but he can still hear well enough. He knows Spike's there, so it doesn't startle him when he speaks up; instead, he just grunts irritably and flings a final knife at the target.

Miss.

Seething, he reaches in his pocket for a cigarette and angrily lights up.] Great. Then I'd have two non-functioning body parts.

[gottaknockhard]

[Spike gives him a moment, mulling something over. (Or thinking of how spry Brock looks compared to how he last saw him... It's almost more off-putting on this end.)]

There might be options for that.

[samson]

[Spry, sure. But also half-blind, which tends to really put a damper on athleticism.]

Like?

[gottaknockhard]

[He won't hold it against him.]

Well, if we ever found a surgeon from my time. Implants are pricey, but not uncommon.

[samson]

Implants -- uh, I mean... it's only half the time. Like. During the day I can see all normal, so...

[For a dude with a metal plate in his chest, Brock seems pretty touchy about having organic parts needlessly replaced.]

[gottaknockhard]

[Not like Spike doesn't still have nightmares about it... But to be fair, his eye was fully functioning when he traded it out.]

... That's pretty specific. [Also, gets him wondering if he should try drinking at all hours. Maybe it's a timing thing. (Mental note!)

Anyway, he's looking at Brock's target again. Helping.] Seems like it'd make you dizzy.

[samson]

Yeah, I know, we timed it... goes completely dead the second the clock hits six. [Which makes him wonder what's going to happen with Daylight Savings. And it's also the first time he's ever wondered if Paradisa follows Daylight Savings.]

Mostly it's just annoying, though... I keep walking into stuff.

[gottaknockhard]

[He nods, knowingly. All told though, Spike would trade up for that deal any day. -- But whatever, blindness is a stupid thing to be jealous over.]

Which eye is it?