© theme

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael and The Spine exchange worried looks behind Sketch’s back. Steve grimaces. “Excellent choice. This future came about after a horrific alien invasion that left a lot of people with a lot of shit to drink away - the upside is we have awesome drinks now. What sort of stuff do you like? We’ve probably got it.”
“Not that we - do that,” Michael added hurriedly. “I mean. Sometimes. But we’re not - we don’t… not constantly.”

Sketch stares at Steve for a minute. “An alien invasion. Like, aliens? Actual aliens?”  He perks up, glad to have something else to occupy his mind other than trying to squash down everything he’d just experienced down under the promise of alcohol.  ”That is really, really cool. Well, I mean I’m sure it wasn’t when it happened but I’ve never come across aliens before and-” He realises he’s getting carried away when he hears Steve’s question.
“Um, anything really. At this point I’m not sure it matters.” 
He turns at looks at Michael when his friend begins to speak. “You don’t have to… defend yourself. I’m honestly in no position to judge you for anything, possibly ever.”

“Yeah, aliens,” Steve says with a chuckle, glad to hear Sketch sounding enthused about something again. “From another dimension or… something. History is, uh. Really, really… Messed up, on that subject. Lots of arguments about what really happened, how it all really went down. Especially towards the end. All I really know is that it’s another event that was real in our ‘Verse and a video game in most others. Half-Life, I think it’s called.”
Michael smiles ruefully at his friend. “Sketch… Let’s save the no I’m a worse person than you contest for after we’ve had a few drinks, okay?”
Steve pulls Michael to his feet and begins to lead the party towards one of the kitchens. “…Uh, I think we mostly have things that taste like fruit, actually.”

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael and The Spine exchange worried looks behind Sketch’s back. Steve grimaces. “Excellent choice. This future came about after a horrific alien invasion that left a lot of people with a lot of shit to drink away - the upside is we have awesome drinks now. What sort of stuff do you like? We’ve probably got it.”

“Not that we - do that,” Michael added hurriedly. “I mean. Sometimes. But we’re not - we don’t… not constantly.”

Sketch stares at Steve for a minute. “An alien invasion. Like, aliens? Actual aliens?”  He perks up, glad to have something else to occupy his mind other than trying to squash down everything he’d just experienced down under the promise of alcohol.  ”That is really, really cool. Well, I mean I’m sure it wasn’t when it happened but I’ve never come across aliens before and-” He realises he’s getting carried away when he hears Steve’s question.

“Um, anything really. At this point I’m not sure it matters.” 

He turns at looks at Michael when his friend begins to speak. “You don’t have to… defend yourself. I’m honestly in no position to judge you for anything, possibly ever.”

“Yeah, aliens,” Steve says with a chuckle, glad to hear Sketch sounding enthused about something again. “From another dimension or… something. History is, uh. Really, really… Messed up, on that subject. Lots of arguments about what really happened, how it all really went down. Especially towards the end. All I really know is that it’s another event that was real in our ‘Verse and a video game in most others. Half-Life, I think it’s called.”

Michael smiles ruefully at his friend. “Sketch… Let’s save the no I’m a worse person than you contest for after we’ve had a few drinks, okay?”

Steve pulls Michael to his feet and begins to lead the party towards one of the kitchens. “…Uh, I think we mostly have things that taste like fruit, actually.”

27 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse

((there you go))
derelictverse

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Steve offers him a hand up, quirking a smile. “Yeah not happening.”
He kind of wants to shake him by the shoulders and shout You just got done saying you hate yourself for getting people killed and now you want to get drunk and perform hazardous experiments. With Michael.
But he’s pretty sure that’s not something you can just say to somebody. So he says instead, “Science or alcohol, Sketch. Pick your poison.”

Sketch gratefully takes the hand up but then does his best to look wounded. “That is incredibly unfair, Steve.” He fake-whines.
He mulls things over in his head, deciding that being drunk would probably be best way to keep his mind off of all the shit that just happened.
“Alright mister, you drive a hard bargain,” he begins with a smirk that feels almost genuine, “but if you’re one-hundred percent sure that we can’t do both, I’m putting all votes towards alcohol.”

Michael and The Spine exchange worried looks behind Sketch’s back. Steve grimaces. “Excellent choice. This future came about after a horrific alien invasion that left a lot of people with a lot of shit to drink away - the upside is we have awesome drinks now. What sort of stuff do you like? We’ve probably got it.”
“Not that we - do that,” Michael added hurriedly. “I mean. Sometimes. But we’re not - we don’t… not constantly.”

Sketch stares at Steve for a minute. “An alien invasion. Like, aliens? Actual aliens?”  He perks up, glad to have something else to occupy his mind other than trying to squash down everything he’d just experienced down under the promise of alcohol.  ”That is really, really cool. Well, I mean I’m sure it wasn’t when it happened but I’ve never come across aliens before and-” He realises he’s getting carried away when he hears Steve’s question.
"Um, anything really. At this point I’m not sure it matters." 
He turns at looks at Michael when his friend begins to speak. “You don’t have to… defend yourself. I’m honestly in no position to judge you for anything, possibly ever.”

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Steve offers him a hand up, quirking a smile. “Yeah not happening.”

He kind of wants to shake him by the shoulders and shout You just got done saying you hate yourself for getting people killed and now you want to get drunk and perform hazardous experiments. With Michael.

But he’s pretty sure that’s not something you can just say to somebody. So he says instead, “Science or alcohol, Sketch. Pick your poison.”

Sketch gratefully takes the hand up but then does his best to look wounded. “That is incredibly unfair, Steve.” He fake-whines.

He mulls things over in his head, deciding that being drunk would probably be best way to keep his mind off of all the shit that just happened.

“Alright mister, you drive a hard bargain,” he begins with a smirk that feels almost genuine, “but if you’re one-hundred percent sure that we can’t do both, I’m putting all votes towards alcohol.”

Michael and The Spine exchange worried looks behind Sketch’s back. Steve grimaces. “Excellent choice. This future came about after a horrific alien invasion that left a lot of people with a lot of shit to drink away - the upside is we have awesome drinks now. What sort of stuff do you like? We’ve probably got it.”

“Not that we - do that,” Michael added hurriedly. “I mean. Sometimes. But we’re not - we don’t… not constantly.”

Sketch stares at Steve for a minute. “An alien invasion. Like, aliens? Actual aliens?”  He perks up, glad to have something else to occupy his mind other than trying to squash down everything he’d just experienced down under the promise of alcohol.  ”That is really, really cool. Well, I mean I’m sure it wasn’t when it happened but I’ve never come across aliens before and-” He realises he’s getting carried away when he hears Steve’s question.

"Um, anything really. At this point I’m not sure it matters." 

He turns at looks at Michael when his friend begins to speak. “You don’t have to… defend yourself. I’m honestly in no position to judge you for anything, possibly ever.”

21 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse

derelictverse
((oh my god i didn't realise thats what i put in my tags))
((pfft))
((also nah i don't wanna drop it))
((you just had stuff to sort out))

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

“The gods both have robot ears that can hear you just fine,” Steve calls back loudly, rounding the corner with The Spine.
“Sorry man,” he says with a shrug, once they get closer. “Didn’t know if you really wanted a crowd was all. Nice to meet you in person.”
“Yes,” The Spine agreed, somewhat at a loss - normally he would shake the newcomer’s hand, but Sketch was on the floor, and crouching down to his height would probably come off as incredibly patronizing.
“Wow, yeah, no -” says Steve, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “You guys are not allowed access to alcohol and the labs at the same time.”

“Well hello to you too. It’s ok, I’m… I should be fine soon.” He smiles a little, glad to finally meet them.
He balks at Steve’s banning of drunk science though.
“Why not? I am a trained professional. Everything’ll be fiiiine.” He says as he gets up off of the ground.

Steve offers him a hand up, quirking a smile. “Yeah not happening.”
He kind of wants to shake him by the shoulders and shout You just got done saying you hate yourself for getting people killed and now you want to get drunk and perform hazardous experiments. With Michael.
But he’s pretty sure that’s not something you can just say to somebody. So he says instead, “Science or alcohol, Sketch. Pick your poison.”

Sketch gratefully takes the hand up but then does his best to look wounded. “That is incredibly unfair, Steve.” He fake-whines.
He mulls things over in his head, deciding that being drunk would probably be best way to keep his mind off of all the shit that just happened.
"Alright mister, you drive a hard bargain," he begins with a smirk that feels almost genuine, "but if you’re one-hundred percent sure that we can’t do both, I’m putting all votes towards alcohol."

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

“The gods both have robot ears that can hear you just fine,” Steve calls back loudly, rounding the corner with The Spine.

“Sorry man,” he says with a shrug, once they get closer. “Didn’t know if you really wanted a crowd was all. Nice to meet you in person.”

“Yes,” The Spine agreed, somewhat at a loss - normally he would shake the newcomer’s hand, but Sketch was on the floor, and crouching down to his height would probably come off as incredibly patronizing.

“Wow, yeah, no -” says Steve, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “You guys are not allowed access to alcohol and the labs at the same time.”

“Well hello to you too. It’s ok, I’m… I should be fine soon.” He smiles a little, glad to finally meet them.

He balks at Steve’s banning of drunk science though.

“Why not? I am a trained professional. Everything’ll be fiiiine.” He says as he gets up off of the ground.

Steve offers him a hand up, quirking a smile. “Yeah not happening.”

He kind of wants to shake him by the shoulders and shout You just got done saying you hate yourself for getting people killed and now you want to get drunk and perform hazardous experiments. With Michael.

But he’s pretty sure that’s not something you can just say to somebody. So he says instead, “Science or alcohol, Sketch. Pick your poison.”

Sketch gratefully takes the hand up but then does his best to look wounded. “That is incredibly unfair, Steve.” He fake-whines.

He mulls things over in his head, deciding that being drunk would probably be best way to keep his mind off of all the shit that just happened.

"Alright mister, you drive a hard bargain," he begins with a smirk that feels almost genuine, "but if you’re one-hundred percent sure that we can’t do both, I’m putting all votes towards alcohol."

15 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse

derelictverse
((don't drink away your feelings kids))
((also stay in school))
((and don't do drugs))

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

At the sudden hug, Sketch freezes. He can’t remember the last time anyone actually hugged him, and he’s suddenly incredibly grateful to have Michael as his friend. 
“I have to disagree with you there, but thanks.” he says as he pulls away from the hug.
At Michael’s question, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white sphere about the size of an apple. “I’m not sure how it works yet and I’ve never used it before now, but this can open portals between the ‘verses…. one of the scientists in the sub’s crew was working on and gave it to me to look at. Handy.” He grimaces at the thing, wishing a little that he’d never taken it.

Effectively distracted from the emotion of the situation by the prospect of shiny new science, and thinking vaguely that maybe he can do the same thing to Sketch, Michael opens his mouth to ask a question - and is interrupted by a bottle of water rolling down the hall and smacking into his leg.
He snorts, handing the water over to Sketch. “A gift from the gods of tact,” he says dryly. “Drink up. Ooh. Speaking of that. While you’re here, want to do that whole drunk science thing we talked about? Or just science in general?”

Sketch almost chuckles as he sees the bottle of water roll down the hall. “Tell the gods of tact to come say hi, they’re being very rude.” He gratefully takes the bottle and downs as much as he can until he comes away gasping.
At Michael’s suggestion, he perks up a little. “Actually, consuming copious quantities of alcohol and doing potentially dangerous scientific experiments sound like exactly what I need right now.” 

“The gods both have robot ears that can hear you just fine,” Steve calls back loudly, rounding the corner with The Spine.
“Sorry man,” he says with a shrug, once they get closer. “Didn’t know if you really wanted a crowd was all. Nice to meet you in person.”
“Yes,” The Spine agreed, somewhat at a loss - normally he would shake the newcomer’s hand, but Sketch was on the floor, and crouching down to his height would probably come off as incredibly patronizing.
“Wow, yeah, no -” says Steve, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “You guys are not allowed access to alcohol and the labs at the same time.”

"Well hello to you too. It’s ok, I’m… I should be fine soon." He smiles a little, glad to finally meet them.
He balks at Steve’s banning of drunk science though.
"Why not? I am a trained professional. Everything’ll be fiiiine.” He says as he gets up off of the ground.

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

At the sudden hug, Sketch freezes. He can’t remember the last time anyone actually hugged him, and he’s suddenly incredibly grateful to have Michael as his friend. 

“I have to disagree with you there, but thanks.” he says as he pulls away from the hug.

At Michael’s question, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white sphere about the size of an apple. “I’m not sure how it works yet and I’ve never used it before now, but this can open portals between the ‘verses…. one of the scientists in the sub’s crew was working on and gave it to me to look at. Handy.” He grimaces at the thing, wishing a little that he’d never taken it.

Effectively distracted from the emotion of the situation by the prospect of shiny new science, and thinking vaguely that maybe he can do the same thing to Sketch, Michael opens his mouth to ask a question - and is interrupted by a bottle of water rolling down the hall and smacking into his leg.

He snorts, handing the water over to Sketch. “A gift from the gods of tact,” he says dryly. “Drink up. Ooh. Speaking of that. While you’re here, want to do that whole drunk science thing we talked about? Or just science in general?”

Sketch almost chuckles as he sees the bottle of water roll down the hall. “Tell the gods of tact to come say hi, they’re being very rude.” He gratefully takes the bottle and downs as much as he can until he comes away gasping.

At Michael’s suggestion, he perks up a little. “Actually, consuming copious quantities of alcohol and doing potentially dangerous scientific experiments sound like exactly what I need right now.” 

“The gods both have robot ears that can hear you just fine,” Steve calls back loudly, rounding the corner with The Spine.

“Sorry man,” he says with a shrug, once they get closer. “Didn’t know if you really wanted a crowd was all. Nice to meet you in person.”

“Yes,” The Spine agreed, somewhat at a loss - normally he would shake the newcomer’s hand, but Sketch was on the floor, and crouching down to his height would probably come off as incredibly patronizing.

“Wow, yeah, no -” says Steve, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “You guys are not allowed access to alcohol and the labs at the same time.”

"Well hello to you too. It’s ok, I’m… I should be fine soon." He smiles a little, glad to finally meet them.

He balks at Steve’s banning of drunk science though.

"Why not? I am a trained professional. Everything’ll be fiiiine.” He says as he gets up off of the ground.

15 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse

derelictverse

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

At the sudden hug, Sketch freezes. He can’t remember the last time anyone actually hugged him, and he’s suddenly incredibly grateful to have Michael as his friend. 
“I have to disagree with you there, but thanks.” he says as he pulls away from the hug.
At Michael’s question, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white sphere about the size of an apple. “I’m not sure how it works yet and I’ve never used it before now, but this can open portals between the ‘verses…. one of the scientists in the sub’s crew was working on and gave it to me to look at. Handy.” He grimaces at the thing, wishing a little that he’d never taken it.

Effectively distracted from the emotion of the situation by the prospect of shiny new science, and thinking vaguely that maybe he can do the same thing to Sketch, Michael opens his mouth to ask a question - and is interrupted by a bottle of water rolling down the hall and smacking into his leg.
He snorts, handing the water over to Sketch. “A gift from the gods of tact,” he says dryly. “Drink up. Ooh. Speaking of that. While you’re here, want to do that whole drunk science thing we talked about? Or just science in general?”

Sketch almost chuckles as he sees the bottle of water roll down the hall. “Tell the gods of tact to come say hi, they’re being very rude.” He gratefully takes the bottle and downs as much as he can until he comes away gasping.
At Michael’s suggestion, he perks up a little. “Actually, consuming copious quantities of alcohol and doing potentially dangerous scientific experiments sound like exactly what I need right now.” 

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

At the sudden hug, Sketch freezes. He can’t remember the last time anyone actually hugged him, and he’s suddenly incredibly grateful to have Michael as his friend. 

“I have to disagree with you there, but thanks.” he says as he pulls away from the hug.

At Michael’s question, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white sphere about the size of an apple. “I’m not sure how it works yet and I’ve never used it before now, but this can open portals between the ‘verses…. one of the scientists in the sub’s crew was working on and gave it to me to look at. Handy.” He grimaces at the thing, wishing a little that he’d never taken it.

Effectively distracted from the emotion of the situation by the prospect of shiny new science, and thinking vaguely that maybe he can do the same thing to Sketch, Michael opens his mouth to ask a question - and is interrupted by a bottle of water rolling down the hall and smacking into his leg.

He snorts, handing the water over to Sketch. “A gift from the gods of tact,” he says dryly. “Drink up. Ooh. Speaking of that. While you’re here, want to do that whole drunk science thing we talked about? Or just science in general?”

Sketch almost chuckles as he sees the bottle of water roll down the hall. “Tell the gods of tact to come say hi, they’re being very rude.” He gratefully takes the bottle and downs as much as he can until he comes away gasping.

At Michael’s suggestion, he perks up a little. “Actually, consuming copious quantities of alcohol and doing potentially dangerous scientific experiments sound like exactly what I need right now.” 

15 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse

derelictverse
((science bros 5ever))

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael steadies him as he tries and fails to stand. He bites the inside of his mouth, hating to see his friend like this. “Sketch - they were scientists. Scientists like that take risks. If they hadn’t gone on your expedition, they would have been doing something else dangerous.”
His eyes widen at Sketch’s next comment. “Wh - no! No no no don’t ever think that! Don’t - don’t… You’re always welcome here. And you shouldn’t - you can’t… You don’t deserve to be stuck there. Don’t put yourself down like that.”
He’s almost more worried when Sketch stops trying to get up.
Sorry?
“For - what, this? The people… dying, or… I mean. Yeah. It’s. Even though it wasn’t your fault, yeah, I - I’m sorry, too. But don’t be sorry about showing up here. Okay?”

Sketch sighs. “Yeah I just… I’m sorry for everything I guess. I just don’t think it’s fair that all those people should die for no reason when I can just get back up again. I don’t deserve it.” 
He takes a couple of deep breaths and then looks up at Michael again. “Thank you though. For having me here and stuff. I kind of had nowhere else to go.”

At this point, Michael can no longer stop himself - he pulls Sketch into a tight hug. “I… kind of know the feeling. But you - you’re a good person, Sketch. You do deserve to live.”
He lets go.
“Any time. Uh. Portals permitting. …Actually, yeah, how’d you get here, anyway?”
(The Spine has finished cleaning up the infirmary. He slips quietly out the doorway and retreats down the hall, staying close enough to help if needed but far enough to give the two some space - Michael knows Sketch better than he does. Around the corner, he finds Steve, who seems to be employing a similar tactic - though he’s holding a bottle of water and looking torn between delivering it and continuing to hang back. “Would they think I was trying to be funny if I rolled it down the hall?”)

At the sudden hug, Sketch freezes. He can’t remember the last time anyone actually hugged him, and he’s suddenly incredibly grateful to have Michael as his friend. 
"I have to disagree with you there, but thanks." he says as he pulls away from the hug.
At Michael’s question, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white sphere about the size of an apple. “I’m not sure how it works yet and I’ve never used it before now, but this can open portals between the ‘verses…. one of the scientists in the sub’s crew was working on and gave it to me to look at. Handy.” He grimaces at the thing, wishing a little that he’d never taken it.

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael steadies him as he tries and fails to stand. He bites the inside of his mouth, hating to see his friend like this. “Sketch - they were scientists. Scientists like that take risks. If they hadn’t gone on your expedition, they would have been doing something else dangerous.”

His eyes widen at Sketch’s next comment. “Wh - no! No no no don’t ever think that! Don’t - don’t… You’re always welcome here. And you shouldn’t - you can’t… You don’t deserve to be stuck there. Don’t put yourself down like that.”

He’s almost more worried when Sketch stops trying to get up.

Sorry?

“For - what, this? The people… dying, or… I mean. Yeah. It’s. Even though it wasn’t your fault, yeah, I - I’m sorry, too. But don’t be sorry about showing up here. Okay?”

Sketch sighs. “Yeah I just… I’m sorry for everything I guess. I just don’t think it’s fair that all those people should die for no reason when I can just get back up again. I don’t deserve it.” 

He takes a couple of deep breaths and then looks up at Michael again. “Thank you though. For having me here and stuff. I kind of had nowhere else to go.”

At this point, Michael can no longer stop himself - he pulls Sketch into a tight hug. “I… kind of know the feeling. But you - you’re a good person, Sketch. You do deserve to live.”

He lets go.

“Any time. Uh. Portals permitting. …Actually, yeah, how’d you get here, anyway?”

(The Spine has finished cleaning up the infirmary. He slips quietly out the doorway and retreats down the hall, staying close enough to help if needed but far enough to give the two some space - Michael knows Sketch better than he does. Around the corner, he finds Steve, who seems to be employing a similar tactic - though he’s holding a bottle of water and looking torn between delivering it and continuing to hang back. “Would they think I was trying to be funny if I rolled it down the hall?”)

At the sudden hug, Sketch freezes. He can’t remember the last time anyone actually hugged him, and he’s suddenly incredibly grateful to have Michael as his friend. 

"I have to disagree with you there, but thanks." he says as he pulls away from the hug.

At Michael’s question, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white sphere about the size of an apple. “I’m not sure how it works yet and I’ve never used it before now, but this can open portals between the ‘verses…. one of the scientists in the sub’s crew was working on and gave it to me to look at. Handy.” He grimaces at the thing, wishing a little that he’d never taken it.

15 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse

derelictverse
((sketch is just a ball of loneliness and self hate))
((i really want to hug him myself))

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Steve nods, bolting from the room in search of water. He was waiting for confirmation from Sketch that he actually wanted it.
When Sketch hits the floor, Michael scrambles to get behind him, gripping his arms to keep him from falling into his own vomit.
“You two get out of here,” The Spine says sharply. “I’ll clean this up.”
Michael waits until he’s pretty sure it’s not going to happen again, and then drags Sketch out into the hallway. “Sorry if this hurts,” he mutters, leaning him against the wall.
At Sketch’s revelation, he can’t help but wince. “Oh g… I’m- I’m sorry.” He settles beside him, hand on his shoulder as he tries to think of what to say. “It wasn’t your fault,” he settles on, because it wasn’t. “They were scientists. They knew the risks just as well as you.”

Sketch shakes his head. “But it was my idea. If it wasn’t for me none of them would’ve been there and none of this would’ve happened.” He looks down at the floor for a minute and then tries to get to his feet, but falls over and makes a frustrated sound.
He tries once again to get up. “I should just leave.” He says, with a hint of anger in his voice, hands balled into fists. “I should never have come here. I should have stayed down there in the ocean.” 
Then, all of a sudden, he stops tensing and flops down against the wall, as if giving up. “I’m sorry.” He says, not looking at anyone in particular.

Michael steadies him as he tries and fails to stand. He bites the inside of his mouth, hating to see his friend like this. “Sketch - they were scientists. Scientists like that take risks. If they hadn’t gone on your expedition, they would have been doing something else dangerous.”
His eyes widen at Sketch’s next comment. “Wh - no! No no no don’t ever think that! Don’t - don’t… You’re always welcome here. And you shouldn’t - you can’t… You don’t deserve to be stuck there. Don’t put yourself down like that.”
He’s almost more worried when Sketch stops trying to get up.
Sorry?
“For - what, this? The people… dying, or… I mean. Yeah. It’s. Even though it wasn’t your fault, yeah, I - I’m sorry, too. But don’t be sorry about showing up here. Okay?”

Sketch sighs. “Yeah I just… I’m sorry for everything I guess. I just don’t think it’s fair that all those people should die for no reason when I can just get back up again. I don’t deserve it.” 
He takes a couple of deep breaths and then looks up at Michael again. “Thank you though. For having me here and stuff. I kind of had nowhere else to go.”

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Steve nods, bolting from the room in search of water. He was waiting for confirmation from Sketch that he actually wanted it.

When Sketch hits the floor, Michael scrambles to get behind him, gripping his arms to keep him from falling into his own vomit.

“You two get out of here,” The Spine says sharply. “I’ll clean this up.”

Michael waits until he’s pretty sure it’s not going to happen again, and then drags Sketch out into the hallway. “Sorry if this hurts,” he mutters, leaning him against the wall.

At Sketch’s revelation, he can’t help but wince. “Oh g… I’m- I’m sorry.” He settles beside him, hand on his shoulder as he tries to think of what to say. “It wasn’t your fault,” he settles on, because it wasn’t. “They were scientists. They knew the risks just as well as you.”

Sketch shakes his head. “But it was my idea. If it wasn’t for me none of them would’ve been there and none of this would’ve happened.” He looks down at the floor for a minute and then tries to get to his feet, but falls over and makes a frustrated sound.

He tries once again to get up. “I should just leave.” He says, with a hint of anger in his voice, hands balled into fists. “I should never have come here. I should have stayed down there in the ocean.” 

Then, all of a sudden, he stops tensing and flops down against the wall, as if giving up. “I’m sorry.” He says, not looking at anyone in particular.

Michael steadies him as he tries and fails to stand. He bites the inside of his mouth, hating to see his friend like this. “Sketch - they were scientists. Scientists like that take risks. If they hadn’t gone on your expedition, they would have been doing something else dangerous.”

His eyes widen at Sketch’s next comment. “Wh - no! No no no don’t ever think that! Don’t - don’t… You’re always welcome here. And you shouldn’t - you can’t… You don’t deserve to be stuck there. Don’t put yourself down like that.”

He’s almost more worried when Sketch stops trying to get up.

Sorry?

“For - what, this? The people… dying, or… I mean. Yeah. It’s. Even though it wasn’t your fault, yeah, I - I’m sorry, too. But don’t be sorry about showing up here. Okay?”

Sketch sighs. “Yeah I just… I’m sorry for everything I guess. I just don’t think it’s fair that all those people should die for no reason when I can just get back up again. I don’t deserve it.” 

He takes a couple of deep breaths and then looks up at Michael again. “Thank you though. For having me here and stuff. I kind of had nowhere else to go.”

15 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse

derelictverse
((wow sketch you're a bundle of laughs today))

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael is surprised by Sketch’s strength - he was bracing himself for somebody who was half dead. As it is, he lets him sit up, and keeps one hand on his back as starts hyperventilating.
“Woah, woah woah, okay, everything’s fine, buddy, just breathe…”
He’s not sure if the laughter’s a good thing or not, but he cracks a reluctant smile. “What do you need? Water? Uh. Like not… sea water. Steve, go get water. Which, by the way, what exactly… happened? What did the… the Kraken, what did it do?”

Sketch sits up, more gingerly this time, and looks up at Michael. “Water would be great, yeah.” He says quietly. “And I think… oh shit I think I’m gonna throw up.” And then he promptly is, on the floor of the infirmary.  
It takes him a few minutes to get himself back together. “Every fucking time…” he hisses under his breath as he tries to get himself up off the floor, every muscle in his body aching. It then takes another good few minutes before he answers Michael’s question.
“Everything was going well. We were pretty deep underwater, but that’s kind of the point. And then suddenly we can see this massive thing and it’s coming towards us and I didn’t know what to do because it’s not even meant to be real, let alone coming at you at full speed. And then it freaking tore through the sub, and we were all out in the water and the thing was everywhere and it wouldn’t stop and-” Sketch’s eyes widen as he remembers. “They’re all dead. All of them, all the crew. It’s my fault…” He drops his head to his hands. “Fuck.”

Steve nods, bolting from the room in search of water. He was waiting for confirmation from Sketch that he actually wanted it.
When Sketch hits the floor, Michael scrambles to get behind him, gripping his arms to keep him from falling into his own vomit.
“You two get out of here,” The Spine says sharply. “I’ll clean this up.”
Michael waits until he’s pretty sure it’s not going to happen again, and then drags Sketch out into the hallway. “Sorry if this hurts,” he mutters, leaning him against the wall.
At Sketch’s revelation, he can’t help but wince. “Oh g… I’m- I’m sorry.” He settles beside him, hand on his shoulder as he tries to think of what to say. “It wasn’t your fault,” he settles on, because it wasn’t. “They were scientists. They knew the risks just as well as you.”

Sketch shakes his head. “But it was my idea. If it wasn’t for me none of them would’ve been there and none of this would’ve happened.” He looks down at the floor for a minute and then tries to get to his feet, but falls over and makes a frustrated sound.
He tries once again to get up. “I should just leave.” He says, with a hint of anger in his voice, hands balled into fists. “I should never have come here. I should have stayed down there in the ocean.” 
Then, all of a sudden, he stops tensing and flops down against the wall, as if giving up. “I’m sorry.” He says, not looking at anyone in particular.

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael is surprised by Sketch’s strength - he was bracing himself for somebody who was half dead. As it is, he lets him sit up, and keeps one hand on his back as starts hyperventilating.

“Woah, woah woah, okay, everything’s fine, buddy, just breathe…”

He’s not sure if the laughter’s a good thing or not, but he cracks a reluctant smile. “What do you need? Water? Uh. Like not… sea water. Steve, go get water. Which, by the way, what exactly… happened? What did the… the Kraken, what did it do?”

Sketch sits up, more gingerly this time, and looks up at Michael. “Water would be great, yeah.” He says quietly. “And I think… oh shit I think I’m gonna throw up.” And then he promptly is, on the floor of the infirmary.  

It takes him a few minutes to get himself back together. “Every fucking time…” he hisses under his breath as he tries to get himself up off the floor, every muscle in his body aching. It then takes another good few minutes before he answers Michael’s question.

“Everything was going well. We were pretty deep underwater, but that’s kind of the point. And then suddenly we can see this massive thing and it’s coming towards us and I didn’t know what to do because it’s not even meant to be real, let alone coming at you at full speed. And then it freaking tore through the sub, and we were all out in the water and the thing was everywhere and it wouldn’t stop and-” Sketch’s eyes widen as he remembers. “They’re all dead. All of them, all the crew. It’s my fault…” He drops his head to his hands. “Fuck.”

Steve nods, bolting from the room in search of water. He was waiting for confirmation from Sketch that he actually wanted it.

When Sketch hits the floor, Michael scrambles to get behind him, gripping his arms to keep him from falling into his own vomit.

“You two get out of here,” The Spine says sharply. “I’ll clean this up.”

Michael waits until he’s pretty sure it’s not going to happen again, and then drags Sketch out into the hallway. “Sorry if this hurts,” he mutters, leaning him against the wall.

At Sketch’s revelation, he can’t help but wince. “Oh g… I’m- I’m sorry.” He settles beside him, hand on his shoulder as he tries to think of what to say. “It wasn’t your fault,” he settles on, because it wasn’t. “They were scientists. They knew the risks just as well as you.”

Sketch shakes his head. “But it was my idea. If it wasn’t for me none of them would’ve been there and none of this would’ve happened.” He looks down at the floor for a minute and then tries to get to his feet, but falls over and makes a frustrated sound.

He tries once again to get up. “I should just leave.” He says, with a hint of anger in his voice, hands balled into fists. “I should never have come here. I should have stayed down there in the ocean.” 

Then, all of a sudden, he stops tensing and flops down against the wall, as if giving up. “I’m sorry.” He says, not looking at anyone in particular.

15 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse

derelictverse
((sorry for the late reply))

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael is trying very hard not to be frantic, because he’s been a scientist long enough to know that it’s often the exact opposite of productive.
Steve and The Spine are trying to help - The Jon and Rabbit were off the radio frequency when QWERTY tried to ping them, and Sam is nowhere to be found.
The thing is, Michael is a scientist, but none of them are doctors. And he’s not sure what any of these readings might mean in connection with Sketch - Sketch, who is apparently immortal, and doesn’t age, and is lying on the exam table covered in blood and fuck fuck FUCK don’t PANIC -
He abandons the instruments, grabbing a rag and soaking it in the sink. He starts wiping the blood off of his friend, trying to find the source and hoping against hope that it isn’t his head or a major artery. “Sketch? Can you hear me?”

Sketch has “died” many times before. And every time he comes back, it’s not as simple as just waking up. It feels like running away from shadows up a hill and sometimes he doesn’t think he’s going to outrun them in time. But he always does.
This time, however, he could feel the shadows embrace him. They were clever, and warm, and he knew that he had to get away. But try as he might, Sketch could feel the shadows pull him back, and he could feel his thoughts go fuzzy, and he was scared.
A sharp pain cut through him and pushed the shadows back. His mind cleared, and he could hear someone’s muffled words, as if listening through a wall. He focused as hard as he could on those words, and he pulled himself towards them.
He opened his eyes, and gasped for breath.

Steve jumped about a foot, knocking over a tray covered in tools none of them had known the purpose of. “Fuck!”
“Very helpful, Steve.”
“Both of you shut up!” Michael hissed, flinging the blood-soaked rag aside and surging forward to pin Sketch’s shoulders down in case he tried sitting up too fast. “Sketch! Look at me! Are you okay?!”

Sketch sits up and looks frantically around the room, memories flooding back to him. He hyperventilates for about a minute and then flops back down.
“Yeah,” he whispers, “I’m alright.”
Sketch closes his eyes and starts to laugh nervously. “Well, that all fell to shit.”

Michael is surprised by Sketch’s strength - he was bracing himself for somebody who was half dead. As it is, he lets him sit up, and keeps one hand on his back as starts hyperventilating.
“Woah, woah woah, okay, everything’s fine, buddy, just breathe…”
He’s not sure if the laughter’s a good thing or not, but he cracks a reluctant smile. “What do you need? Water? Uh. Like not… sea water. Steve, go get water. Which, by the way, what exactly… happened? What did the… the Kraken, what did it do?”

Sketch sits up, more gingerly this time, and looks up at Michael. “Water would be great, yeah.” He says quietly. “And I think… oh shit I think I’m gonna throw up.” And then he promptly is, on the floor of the infirmary.  
It takes him a few minutes to get himself back together. “Every fucking time…” he hisses under his breath as he tries to get himself up off the floor, every muscle in his body aching. It then takes another good few minutes before he answers Michael’s question.
"Everything was going well. We were pretty deep underwater, but that’s kind of the point. And then suddenly we can see this massive thing and it’s coming towards us and I didn’t know what to do because it’s not even meant to be real, let alone coming at you at full speed. And then it freaking tore through the sub, and we were all out in the water and the thing was everywhere and it wouldn’t stop and-” Sketch’s eyes widen as he remembers. “They’re all dead. All of them, all the crew. It’s my fault…” He drops his head to his hands. “Fuck.”

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael is trying very hard not to be frantic, because he’s been a scientist long enough to know that it’s often the exact opposite of productive.

Steve and The Spine are trying to help - The Jon and Rabbit were off the radio frequency when QWERTY tried to ping them, and Sam is nowhere to be found.

The thing is, Michael is a scientist, but none of them are doctors. And he’s not sure what any of these readings might mean in connection with Sketch - Sketch, who is apparently immortal, and doesn’t age, and is lying on the exam table covered in blood and fuck fuck FUCK don’t PANIC -

He abandons the instruments, grabbing a rag and soaking it in the sink. He starts wiping the blood off of his friend, trying to find the source and hoping against hope that it isn’t his head or a major artery. “Sketch? Can you hear me?”

Sketch has “died” many times before. And every time he comes back, it’s not as simple as just waking up. It feels like running away from shadows up a hill and sometimes he doesn’t think he’s going to outrun them in time. But he always does.

This time, however, he could feel the shadows embrace him. They were clever, and warm, and he knew that he had to get away. But try as he might, Sketch could feel the shadows pull him back, and he could feel his thoughts go fuzzy, and he was scared.

A sharp pain cut through him and pushed the shadows back. His mind cleared, and he could hear someone’s muffled words, as if listening through a wall. He focused as hard as he could on those words, and he pulled himself towards them.

He opened his eyes, and gasped for breath.

Steve jumped about a foot, knocking over a tray covered in tools none of them had known the purpose of. “Fuck!”

“Very helpful, Steve.”

“Both of you shut up!” Michael hissed, flinging the blood-soaked rag aside and surging forward to pin Sketch’s shoulders down in case he tried sitting up too fast. “Sketch! Look at me! Are you okay?!”

Sketch sits up and looks frantically around the room, memories flooding back to him. He hyperventilates for about a minute and then flops back down.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “I’m alright.”

Sketch closes his eyes and starts to laugh nervously. “Well, that all fell to shit.”

Michael is surprised by Sketch’s strength - he was bracing himself for somebody who was half dead. As it is, he lets him sit up, and keeps one hand on his back as starts hyperventilating.

“Woah, woah woah, okay, everything’s fine, buddy, just breathe…”

He’s not sure if the laughter’s a good thing or not, but he cracks a reluctant smile. “What do you need? Water? Uh. Like not… sea water. Steve, go get water. Which, by the way, what exactly… happened? What did the… the Kraken, what did it do?”

Sketch sits up, more gingerly this time, and looks up at Michael. “Water would be great, yeah.” He says quietly. “And I think… oh shit I think I’m gonna throw up.” And then he promptly is, on the floor of the infirmary.  

It takes him a few minutes to get himself back together. “Every fucking time…” he hisses under his breath as he tries to get himself up off the floor, every muscle in his body aching. It then takes another good few minutes before he answers Michael’s question.

"Everything was going well. We were pretty deep underwater, but that’s kind of the point. And then suddenly we can see this massive thing and it’s coming towards us and I didn’t know what to do because it’s not even meant to be real, let alone coming at you at full speed. And then it freaking tore through the sub, and we were all out in the water and the thing was everywhere and it wouldn’t stop and-” Sketch’s eyes widen as he remembers. “They’re all dead. All of them, all the crew. It’s my fault…” He drops his head to his hands. “Fuck.”

14 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse

derelictverse

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael is trying very hard not to be frantic, because he’s been a scientist long enough to know that it’s often the exact opposite of productive.
Steve and The Spine are trying to help - The Jon and Rabbit were off the radio frequency when QWERTY tried to ping them, and Sam is nowhere to be found.
The thing is, Michael is a scientist, but none of them are doctors. And he’s not sure what any of these readings might mean in connection with Sketch - Sketch, who is apparently immortal, and doesn’t age, and is lying on the exam table covered in blood and fuck fuck FUCK don’t PANIC -
He abandons the instruments, grabbing a rag and soaking it in the sink. He starts wiping the blood off of his friend, trying to find the source and hoping against hope that it isn’t his head or a major artery. “Sketch? Can you hear me?”

Sketch has “died” many times before. And every time he comes back, it’s not as simple as just waking up. It feels like running away from shadows up a hill and sometimes he doesn’t think he’s going to outrun them in time. But he always does.
This time, however, he could feel the shadows embrace him. They were clever, and warm, and he knew that he had to get away. But try as he might, Sketch could feel the shadows pull him back, and he could feel his thoughts go fuzzy, and he was scared.
A sharp pain cut through him and pushed the shadows back. His mind cleared, and he could hear someone’s muffled words, as if listening through a wall. He focused as hard as he could on those words, and he pulled himself towards them.
He opened his eyes, and gasped for breath.

Steve jumped about a foot, knocking over a tray covered in tools none of them had known the purpose of. “Fuck!”
“Very helpful, Steve.”
“Both of you shut up!” Michael hissed, flinging the blood-soaked rag aside and surging forward to pin Sketch’s shoulders down in case he tried sitting up too fast. “Sketch! Look at me! Are you okay?!”

Sketch sits up and looks frantically around the room, memories flooding back to him. He hyperventilates for about a minute and then flops back down.
"Yeah," he whispers, "I’m alright."
Sketch closes his eyes and starts to laugh nervously. “Well, that all fell to shit.”

derelictverse:

professorsketch:

derelictverse:

Michael is trying very hard not to be frantic, because he’s been a scientist long enough to know that it’s often the exact opposite of productive.

Steve and The Spine are trying to help - The Jon and Rabbit were off the radio frequency when QWERTY tried to ping them, and Sam is nowhere to be found.

The thing is, Michael is a scientist, but none of them are doctors. And he’s not sure what any of these readings might mean in connection with Sketch - Sketch, who is apparently immortal, and doesn’t age, and is lying on the exam table covered in blood and fuck fuck FUCK don’t PANIC -

He abandons the instruments, grabbing a rag and soaking it in the sink. He starts wiping the blood off of his friend, trying to find the source and hoping against hope that it isn’t his head or a major artery. “Sketch? Can you hear me?”

Sketch has “died” many times before. And every time he comes back, it’s not as simple as just waking up. It feels like running away from shadows up a hill and sometimes he doesn’t think he’s going to outrun them in time. But he always does.

This time, however, he could feel the shadows embrace him. They were clever, and warm, and he knew that he had to get away. But try as he might, Sketch could feel the shadows pull him back, and he could feel his thoughts go fuzzy, and he was scared.

A sharp pain cut through him and pushed the shadows back. His mind cleared, and he could hear someone’s muffled words, as if listening through a wall. He focused as hard as he could on those words, and he pulled himself towards them.

He opened his eyes, and gasped for breath.

Steve jumped about a foot, knocking over a tray covered in tools none of them had known the purpose of. “Fuck!”

“Very helpful, Steve.”

“Both of you shut up!” Michael hissed, flinging the blood-soaked rag aside and surging forward to pin Sketch’s shoulders down in case he tried sitting up too fast. “Sketch! Look at me! Are you okay?!”

Sketch sits up and looks frantically around the room, memories flooding back to him. He hyperventilates for about a minute and then flops back down.

"Yeah," he whispers, "I’m alright."

Sketch closes his eyes and starts to laugh nervously. “Well, that all fell to shit.”

14 01 2013
(29)
via → derelictverse