thebastion | Day 248 ♈ Closed

Entry tags:

Day 248 ♈ Closed

Who: the Emissary, the Disciple, the Helmsman
Open: Closed
When: Day 248
Where: Skyway
What: So three aliens walk into a bar, only instead it's a crashed spaceship on a ruined planet, and there's no booze. Actually, wait, this joke sucks.
Format: starting with log, but will match.
Warnings: well, Psii's gonna be a bit messed up.

[0. Skippable wakeup scene]

In retrospect, she wasn't really sure what she'd expected a Scratch to feel like. Amazingly, the written record is kind of sparse on what it's like to be retroactively wiped out of existence. She'd known it was coming, of course. She had plenty of time to prepare herself. It was time to wipe the slate of the universe clean and start over.

The last thing Aradia had expected was to survive.

The Battlefield hadn't been so lucky. It had been torn to shreds, and now great chunks of the little planet's checkered surface floated in midair all around her, cracked and littered with debris. A few spots were surprisingly intact, though, including the one where she'd woken up. Her breath caught, and she whirled to check on her companions. "Tav-"

Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no.

Tavros and Sollux hadn't moved from where she'd last seen them. They stood together, tall and still, gazing up at the shattered sky with blind, ashen eyes.

The Emissary was no stranger to death. She'd grown up steeped in it, with spirits for her playmates. She'd seen wars, and the aftermath of wars. She'd lost friends. But... "Not like this," she whispered. "Not like this." There was a gap between them, where a moment ago she'd been standing. Their flaking hands still grasped the empty space where hers had been. Her boys had been incinerated where they stood, and she'd escaped without a scratch. Why? Why only me?

... After a long moment, she finished getting to her feet. What now? She had to... to go somewhere, do something, but what? She'd thought she would be dead for this, she hadn't exactly made any plans. But she couldn't stay here. They were dead. And if the dead hadn't lingered, then the living had no excuse.

"Well," she said, forcing herself to smile. "Looks like I missed the train again, huh? Sorry about that. I'll have to catch up with you later. Don't cause too much trouble on the other side, all right?"

She leaned forward, took their hands one last time - and jerked away as their fingers fell apart beneath her own. Followed by their arms, and their torsos. "Oh, shit." Tavros's head fell backwards from his collapsing shoulders, and without thinking she moved to catch it, but when it landed in her hands it disintegrated into a cloud of black dust that made her cough and set her eyes watering.

Eeeeyup, those two were well and truly not coming back.

[I. Hours in the future, but not many (Disciple)]

She wandered the fragments for probably hours - maybe less, it was hard to say. The black-and-white chessboard of the Battlefield gave way to greener pastures, quite literally, but she hadn't passed out of sight of it by the time she spotted the light in the distance. At first she took it for a reflection, but on the second look it was too steady, and not at all as far away as it had seemed.

Without any better options, she made her way toward that for a while, until something else caught her eye. Something bright red, pointy, and large, with a column of smoke rising from it. She squinted at it. Some kind of spaceship? It couldn't be carapacian, theirs only came in gold and purple.

Well, that was a much better lead than a light. Curiosity and something like hope took hold of her, and she bounded down the crumbling pathway toward the ship, unaware that anyone else might be around to see it...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Naturally, Aradia thought the Disciple was talking to her, and she did indeed come back. "What? What's wrong?" Of course, by then the yellow part was gone, but the original message remained.

H3R 1mp3r10u22 C0nd32c2n210n? That was a new one. Also, whoever wrote this program had a hell of a typing quirk. "Identification? Half the ship's missing and she's got her shorts in a knot about identification?"

The screen lights up with more words, although perhaps not necessarily what the Disciple is looking for. There's just a correction that needs to be made, you see.

2h1p 12 m1221ng 80%. 6l0ck2 th4t r3m41n:

- Su6m41nt3n4nc3 r00m2
- 1nf0rm4t10n 2t0r4g3
- H3lm26l0ck

H3lm26l0ck 12 4t 10% d4m4g3. R3d1r3ct r3p41r 3ff0rt2 h3r3 und3r 0rd3r2 0f H3R 1mp3r10u22 C0nd32c2n210n. 42 p3r 3m3rg3ncy pr0t0c0l2, H3lm2m4n m4y b3 r3m0v3d 6y pr0p3r 3ng1n33r2 0f 4ppr0pr14t3 6l00d c0l0r.

(But down in the corner of the screen, flickering for just a second or even two, a flash of yellow again. 1f 1 d0 th4t qu1rk 3 t1me2 w1ll y0u 4ctu4lly b3c0m3 th3 r34l d34l h4 h4 1 w12h 2p01l3r 1 pa223d 3 u232 4 l0ng t1m3 4g0. A lot to read in a short time span, however, especially with that mangled quirk.)

The words that flash up are still in that strange quirk, one she's never see before, but she can read it. Well, well enough to get the gist. A helmsman is still intact, that should be their first order of business.

"We need to get the helmsman out, I can't imagine it's good for them, given the ship is dying and--"

'If I do that quirk 3 times will you actually become the real--'

And it was gone. She feels like she's going to cry, from hope and bitter knowledge that this can't actually be happening. It's another dream.

"3 times huh. Helms...yeah we need to go get the helmsman out."

Edited 2014-11-12 02:09 (UTC)

Focused as she was on the regular text, Aradia only noticed the yellow in time to catch the first few words of it. It confirmed what the computer had to say, though. There was someone aboard, and chances were good that person was trapped - which, given the overall damage, didn't come as much of a surprise. What was surprising was that the helmsman had a way to message the rescuers and was still being cagey about it.

She nodded to Di, then turned to the camera. "How do we reach the helmsman?" she asked it.

This time, helpfully, a map flases onto the screen- tyrian pink on black of course. Adjustments have been made to show which areas were sealed off for either the ship's own good or because of damage, but there's still a path apparently clear to the area labelled "Helmsblock". A few more images flash on the bottom half of the screen, showing different camera feeds of the path there. It's not as clear cut as the map would lead one to believe... But it's only a bit of crouching towards the beginning. The rest is fine.

She traces the path with her fingertip, memorizing it as quickly as she can. While she steps back to let Aradia have a better look, she glances up at the lens above.

"Are you ready?" She looks at Aradia, "It looks like it'll be difficult at times but not unpassable." And she orients herself on the map, pointing herself in the right direction.

Aradia committed the map to memory as well, and took note of the pictures. It was surprisingly self-explanatory. She'd almost been expecting to have to solve a rewiring puzzle or something - not that she would have objected to that, of course.

"It doesn't look bad at all," she said, nodding. "Keep a sharp eye, though, just in case." If the passage were to collapse, it wouldn't do to be caught by surprise; and there could always still be traps or weapons active. That'd spice the rescue up a bit, wouldn't it? Smiling up at the camera, she added, "Tell him to sit tight, help is on the way!"

Then she was off, starting along the designated route at a brisk pace. It felt good, being able to help out again. Coming to the rescue was a hobby she hadn't been able to indulge for quite some time. She'd almost forgotten how much fun it was.

No, no traps, no weapons. This ship has been taught and programmed not to get in the way of being appropriately fixed or salvaged by the suitable Alternian forces. Besides... Save for the Helmsblock, a lot of the ship isn't really in the condition to do any combat. There's no crew for it to direct, either.

So it's really just a straight path, ducking aside, to a set of large automatic doors. There's some sparks, just a few, red and blue, that react when it opens... But that's it.

Welcome to the Helmsblock.

It's a rather massive room, and teaming with those tentacles from before. They compromise the majority of the walls, fleshy and shifting just slightly now and then, shimmering in the dull light of the room. Screens peer out from them, almost a harsh match with their smooth surfaces in comparison to the writhing walls. It's on the floor too, although it might be hard to see considering there's water that reaches up a meter once one descends the stairs which come from the entranceway. Everything in here is moist and smells thickly of salt. The mass of biotech all congregates in the middle, rising out of the water to enclose itself around the one solitary figure there.

Her Imperious Condescension's Helmsman has seen better days. His face is sunken in, but that doesn't seem to matter to the biowire goggles which are attached to his face. Trolls are made for dim light, so it shouldn't be hard for either of the visitors to tell even from a distance that the goggles have, in certain places, slipped into his skin. They bulge out at the skin around his eyes, the same eyes which let red and blue energy crackle softly up the wires from his face and up into the mass of tentacles which keep his arms forced up above his head. Presumably there are still arms, anyway. It's hard to tell... The biowiring has crept down and is infringing on his shoulders, now. Thicker cords go from his spine to the ceiling, joining its brethren.

Regardless of how little there seems to be to his body... The Helmsman should be familiar to both trolls. There's only one lineage with a dual set of horns and opaque red-blue eyes like that, after all.

The Helmsman's physicaly body doesn't react to either troll. He could very well be dead, if not for the quiet sound of breathing. A screen does, however, light up near the doorway for them.

42 H3r hum6l2 h3lm2m4n, 1 l1v3 t0 23rv3 0ur 3mpr322' v4l14nt f0rc32 1n wh4t3v3r w4y th3y n33d m3. 422um1ng y0u 4r3n't h4lluc1n4t10n2.

Wh1ch y0u 4r3, l3t'2 63 h0n32t h3r3.

24m3 2h1t 42 4lw4y2!

The way is simple enough, it's true. Littered with scraps of metal and expose fleshy walls, but simple and straightforward. The doors open and she almost loses whatever food she had forced into her stomach. It's a mass, a seething teeming mass colored that vibrant horrible color that makes her try to pull up straight and fall into a fighting stance all at once.

The contrast is harsh and the lighting dim, but she recognizes him. She starts walking towards him before she even realizes what's going on. The screen distracts her for just a moment.

"I'm not a dream. I promise. Psii, I promise." She looked at Aradia, then back to Psiionic, dangling from his prison. She wades into the water, forcing herself step by step. It smells like the sea and it's terrifying.

"We--we have to get him out."

The moment they entered the Helmsblock, all the fun went out of the excursion like the air out of the Emissary's lungs. She froze, staring horrified at the figure half-buried in the center of the room. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She didn't register the text he'd written them, nor indeed that there was even a screen there. For once in her life, Aradia Megido had no words.

Sollux?? But - that was impossible. She'd been there, she'd watched his body disintegrate into a pile of ash. The ash was still in her sylladex, for crying out loud! How? How did he end up here? How long had he been here, embedded in that... that thing?

"We have to get him out." That was all she heard.

Before she knew it she was in motion, splashing loud and heedlessly into the water, past the Disciple, toward him. Her skirts dragged behind her, and she paused just long enough to yank them free with a frustrated growl before continuing. She clambered up onto the gross, slippery mound of biotech that entombed him, reached out, but stopped short at the last moment, afraid to actually touch him.

"Sollux! Can you hear me?" She was all of four feet away from him, he'd better damn well be able to hear her. "It's me! Aradia!" Dear god, he looked like death. Was he even breathing? She couldn't hold still long enough to tell. "I'm here. We'll get you out of there. You're going to be okay." His skin was growing around the goggles. It was growing around everything. She wanted to retch, but swallowed hard against it. "You're gonna be just fine."

He had to be. She'd already gotten him killed one too many times today.

Edited 2014-11-12 05:22 (UTC)

There's just another crackle of psionic energy from his eyes to the biowiring- and it lights up similar in one of the screens embedded in the walls. What was once a status report is replaced by more yellow mutilated-quirk text.

1 l1k3 t0 th1nk 1 c4n h34r th3 h4lluc1n4t10n2 my 6u2t3ed up th1nkp4n thr0w2 4t m3 0n 4 r3gul4r 64212

4lt0ugh th12 12 n3w 4dm1tt3dly

He's still not moving, although whether it's because he can't or just won't isn't quite clear yet. He is breathing, however, and his eyes do blink now and then behind the goggles.

Edited 2014-11-12 05:33 (UTC)

It's slower going for her, fighting the urge to get back on dry land and every inch of her who knows the sea is death and horror. She's crawling up the island when Aradia calls him a different name. Wait--no, he was Psii. He was Psii, he said 3 times, three like her, 33, 69. Her body sways as a wash of grief rolls over her. Was it a lie. Were her hopes all raised to have this be another troll altogether.

No it has to be him. The outfit, now that she notices it, is the same. Under the wiring and horror, he is Psiionic, in that outfit he had designed and the Dolorosa had made.

"Psiionic? Is it--You're the Psiionic right?" She creeps up to his face and looks at Aradia, "How do we get him out?"

He was alive. His psionics were still active. This time Aradia noticed the screen as it lit up, and finally she had the chance to read the whole thing. He was awake, if only marginally. The tension left her shoulders all at once. All tangled up in a horrific biotech nightmare, and he could still make those dumb quips.

"You're not hallucinating." Wait, scratch that, he still easily could be. "You're not hallucinating us," she corrected herself.

But... the Psiionic? That... that wasn't Sollux's title. Only after that little discrepancy did her think pan finally latch onto the fact that she wasn't the only one who recognized him. She eyed the Disciple oddly, as if just remembering she was there. In a sense, she was - when she stopped acting like a hysterical dame for half a second and thought about it, nothing about this situation made a lick of sense. It was an oddly surreal moment, in which it occurred to her that she really had very little idea of where she was, what she was trying to do, or who these people really were.

... No, she couldn't get hung up on that right now. Later, maybe. The Disciple was right - their first priority was to extract Sollux-or-maybe-not-Sollux from his hideous slimy prison.

Somehow.

"I don't know," she admitted. She scooted around to get a better look at the connectors, although since she lacked a bioengineering background, the inspection gave her little more than a mild sense of nausea. They were everywhere - his arms, his entire lower body, his spine. "We can't just tear him out." Even in a best-case scenario, he could come out paralyzed; she didn't want to imagine anything worse, much less say it right in his sponge clots.

2ur3 y0u c4n, wh4t'2 th3 w0rst th4 c0uld 4ctu4lly h4pp3n? L3t2 s4y th3 m3nt4l s2h0ck 12 3n0ugh t0 4ctu4lly 4ff3ct m3 1n th3 4ctu4l n0n-cr4zy-4ctu4l-r34l1ty w0rld, l1k3 1 g1v3 4 fuck 460ut l1v1ng

Hopefully they're ignoring the screens, because the Helmsman isn't exactly being helpful right now, and also still steadfastly ignoring the inquiries about his actual name.

R32cu3 4tt3mpt2 4r3n't r34lly 4 n3w n1ghtdr34m but 21nc3 th12 i2 2uch 4 n3w 2p1n 0n th1ng2 m4y63 1 c0uld 3nt3rt41n 1t. W4nt m3 to pr3t3nd t0 g1v3 y0u th3 3m3rg3ncy pr0t0c0l2 l1k3 y0u d0n't 4ctu4lly 4lr34dy kn0w?

...Or maybe they shouldn't.

Edited 2014-11-12 06:36 (UTC)

She's looking around blindly now, for anything. A panel, a set of controls, anything. Her eyes land on a screen, fixate on the words. It hurts. It hurts in that same way the first depressive swing he had in their presence hurt, when she didn't know how to help. Her hands clutch at the fabric of his ridiculous suit, trying to process that. He needs to give a fuck, he needs to, because she always had to and it's not fair. He can't come back and just leave her alone.

She blinks back tears and they focus her. His words that blurred come back into clarity.

"Emergency protocols. Yes--yes what are those? And--in Alternian so I can understand you, you know I'm terrible at these things."

Emergency protocols. That's right, he'd mentioned that - or the computer had? - whatever, they had been mentioned. The Helmsman can be removed, there's a way to do it. "Yes! Emergency protocols are good," she exclaimed.

Sorry, he'll get to that in a second because for the first time since those doors first opened, the Helmsman reacts. To be specific, Disciple's fingers clawing against his suit make him react, pulling back as much as he's capable which isn't much at all as the biowires strain and stretch in protest. There's a noise, too. Not any sort of words, just a low keening desperate noise from a throat that's not used to speaking anymore.

The words on the screen, in contrast, keep coming like nothing happened.

W3ll 1'm g01ng t0 n33d t0 233 20m3 6ulg3l1ck1ng pr00f th4t y0u'r3 4ll0w3d t0 b3 h3r3 f0r 0n3 th1ng.

Her hands let go at the rising keen and she stumbles backwards. She practically falls into the water in her haste to let go. What was wrong, she didn't know, but she knew better than to touch someone who reacted that way. Her hands are trembling as she straightens and looks at the screen. Nothing, no evidence he even acknowledged it.

"Oh--Like we're allowed. Like rescue parties are allowed to be in here. I'm Meulin Leijon, the Disciple of Signless, I don't know what more you need. Are you not...I don't understand." She gestures at Aradia, to speak. Maybe this is her Sollux, maybe she's chasing a futile dream.

Edited 2014-11-12 07:18 (UTC)

Oh, no, that piteous wail was just too much. On the one hand, logically, it meant he still had some awareness of his body, but that just made it worse. She couldn't even begin to imagine how much pain he must be in. Nobody deserved a fate like this.

... And yet he was still hung up (wait, no, bad choice of words) about their identification. God damn it, Captor, she couldn't even with you.

Aradia watched the Disciple as she spoke. So you are Meulin, she thought. So on top of everything else, they had temporal shenanigans to deal with. Had Meulin been trapped in the Medium after the Scratch? For how long? ... And wait, wasn't Meulin deaf? She thought she remembered Meulin being deaf.

At least it provided a more plausible idea of who the Helmsman was. Sollux was dead, but there was one other person who would fit his profile. Give him ten or twenty sweeps and a haircut, and voila, twinskies.

Edited (hurr it's capitalized) 2014-11-12 16:29 (UTC)

Abruptly, she realized that Meulin was looking to her for help. Her mind raced. She had to do something, but what...? Just as suddenly, though, an idea began to form in her think pan. It was crazy, but... maybe it was crazy enough to work.

Aradia straightened to her full height, mindful of her footing on the slippery mound, and took a deep breath. He wanted proof? All right, she'd give him proof. She'd tipped her hand already. Now it was time to go all in.

"I'm Aradia Megido, Emissary to Her Conscientious Majesty, Empress Feferi," she said, her voice taking on a marked tone of authority. She spun her sylladex - one reel, two, three - and equipped a signet ring on her index finger, holding it up so they could see. "By her authority, and in the absence of captain or crew, I hereby assume command of this vessel."

There. How's that for 'allowed to be here,' kiddo?

While Aradia was going over the mystery of this special little clusterfuck in her head, more words appeared at Disciple's protest. Unlike the last times, they didn't come in rapid fire quickness. No, they were... slow. Almost gentle in it.

1 kn0w wh0 y0u 4r3. 1 2h0uldn't try t0 ju2t1fy my23lf t0 my 0wn d3lu210n2 but th12 12n't th3 f1r2t 1'v3 h4lluc1na4t3d y0u... 4nd 1 kn0w th4t'2 h4pp3n1ng b3c4u23 0l1v3bl00d2 d0n't l1v3 f0r 1425 20l4r 2w33p2.

1425 solar sweeps. How long he's been installed. Certainly much longer than yellowbloods should be alive.

There's a pause as Aradia straightens herself, the machinery and tentacles whirring and slithering as it processes what she's saying and even the type of fetch modus she's using. When she finally holds up the ring, the Helmsman moves once again. In contrast to the alarming wail he'd made before, he seems almost bored as he looks over the ring. The only thing missing that would make the picture complete would be him chinhanding. The screens go blank for a moment before he lets his head fall again and race with yellow text once more.

0h TH12 21 4 n3w 0n3. 20 w3'r3 g01ng w1th 4 h31r322 2ucc2210n 2p1n th12 t1m3, p4n? p01nt2 f0r pl4u2161l1ty 0n th3 g3n3r4l 1d34 but 1'd b3 h4rd pr3223d t0 f1nd 0n3 th4t w0uld ch0023 4 mar00nbl00d f0r 4nyth1ng.

There was a brief pause as the Helmsman sighed, a wet sound that had yellow drip slowly from his lips. The ship really was dying, as much as its Helmsman refused to believe something so good could actually be happening, and he wouldn't be able to deal with the resulting aftermath.

V3ry w3ll. 3m3rg3ncy H3lm2m4n r3m0v4l pr0t0c0l2 f0r h3r C0nsc13nt10u2 M4je2ty'2 3m1224ry! 4nd h3r 42212t4nt wh0 12 m02t D3F1N1T3LY n0t 4 pr0duct 0f my br0k3n m1nd. 21nc3 0f c0ur23 th3r3'2 tw0 0f y0u, w3 c4n h4v3 0n3 4t th3 2cr33n 0f y0ur ch01c3 4nd th3 0th3r w1ll g3t t0 b3 r34l 4cqu41nt3d w1th my b10w1r1ng. Wh0'2 g01ng wh3r3?

She's slow to process the things happening around her. Her attention flies back to the words, slower and easier to read. 1425--impossible. Her lips form the word silently, hands limp at her side. It's him though, him. Her eyes close and she struggles to form the words.

"Fuck you, like I didn't hallucinate you all too. 5 sweeps. It's been five..I think. Maybe 6 or 7--I lost track. Your memory must be off."

Because it's impossible to process the alternative. That they're off in time, that he's been here in this prison, surrounded by the sight of imperial pink and the smell of the sea they both hate. That he's been dreaming of a rescue for 1425 sweeps that never came.

"Conscientious--we had a change in leadership? When?" Her head raises up to Aradia, confusion making her clumsy, grief and guilt making her slow. It's impossible--or is it. An heiress like that, one who takes in a maroon as a companion of any sort, that had to be one worth supporting. Her heart lifts a little, did things get better?

"Never mind, we can talk about it later. Psii, I'm not a hallucination--stop saying that. I'm not--I purromise." She trips over the pun, too long unused, and runs her fingertips over the nearest biowire.

"I can do the wires, if you want to take screen." She's quick to offer it before her guilt at leaving him to this makes her pass off on the harder task. At least this way he can't call her that again.

Edited 2014-11-12 23:22 (UTC)

The Helmsman's sarcasm was noted and overruled. Hey, at least her gamble had worked. Imperial authority meant nothing and less in the Medium, especially with the Empress herself dead and her planet lying in ruins, but they didn't need to know that just yet. He was cooperating now, that was the important thing.

"Thank you," she said. Meulin's question she heard, but didn't acknowledge. They could iron out the details of the line of succession and their respective timelines later on, once they were all safe and not bleeding. They were on a time limit now. If the ship were to die with him still attached...

She nodded, though, accepting that division of work. She certainly didn't know what she was doing with this level of technology, besides which there probably wasn't time to dispute it, besides which Di knew him better. (Although thank god that said "biowiring" and not something else, she'd read that 1 as an L initially.) Without wasting any more time, she made her way down to the edge of the water -

- well, okay, she just wasted approximately 4.13 seconds to equip a different set of clothes. Her favorite dress was already stained and damp from the tepid seawater, there was no point in completely ruining it. So now she had a pantsuit with high boots, black trimmed in red, in a more modern style. ~~Don't judge her priorities, okay, it only took 4.13 seconds, jegus.~~

With that out of the way, then she crossed into the water to where the nearest screen was standing. Why they'd engineered it so you had to be ass-deep in seawater to use it was anyone's guess. Because seadwellers, probably.

"Ready," she said.

Th12 12n't th3 1mp3r14l 64ll, c4n w3 f0cu2?

Because of course this has to be made harder with snarky douchebag commentary, right? Still, the Helmsman waits until Aradia is closer to the screen before throwing up the appropriate commands.

W3'll h4v3 t0 r3r0ut3 p0w3r 64ck t0 m3 21nc3 1'm n0t p3rm1tt3d t0 d0 20 my23lf. 34ch 23ct10n put 0ffl1n3, D11, y0u'll n33d t0 r34ch up 1nt0 my upp3r w1r1ng, 1gn0r3 th3 gr022 6ull2h1t of 1t 4ll, 4nd pull h4rd 0n th3 th1ng wh1ch f33l2 l1k3 4 kn06. Th3r3'2 f1v3 1n t0t4l.

Edited 2014-11-13 00:53 (UTC)

His snark is almost reassuring. Almost. It's like he's really still in there somewhere after all. She shakes her head at him and leans up to look him in the eye. Being shorter, this doesn't work as well as she hoped but she can at least see his eyes behind the goggles.

"Be nice, she's helping." She tries to crack a smile. It almost works before she falters and turns away. It's easier to distract herself with the new yellow words. Knobs. Five total. Waiting for Aradia, she eyes the tangle of biowiring above him uncertainly. A slimy odd looking mess to be shoving herself into. She resolves to get a bath for the both of them when they get back. A proper one. If he can stand a bath.

"Up there? I might have to touch you to get up there, is that okay? Is this going to hurt?"

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body horror warning

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/sweats nervously and tags suicidal thought mention

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1/2

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