hadriel_logs | you're part of a machine [OPEN/CLOSED]

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you're part of a machine [OPEN/CLOSED]

Who: Rey/Safronov and Nick Valentine (feat Alphys) + a couple open prompts.
What: Finding out that she has limited time left before her brain melts due to the infection that led to her death, ~~Rey~~ Safronov suffers a few blackout episodes before she is able to bring her successor back.
Where: Abandoned shop, Science lab, Robot House (1401).
When: March catch-all (feel free to specify dates in the subject line when tagging an open prompt if it's important).
Warnings: Suicidal ideations and other heavy subjects.

7th-19th; Abandoned Shop [OPEN]
(are you insane like me, been in pain like me?)

The headaches only got worse as the days went by. Sometimes, she would hear the most unbearable ringing in her ears, like a grenade had just gone off right next to her head. More frequent came the nosebleeds, and within a week it became blatantly obvious that Safronov was working on borrowed time. She knew this, and there was no pride in being right.

Her memories at the Russian command center were vague at first, but over time she began to recollect her life more. Perhaps it was due to the infection constantly reminding her in the forms of distractions that were getting increasingly more difficult to ignore, but she remembers it all now: She had failed in her objective to destroy the synthetic's hub at the Grigoryevich Underground Center. As a result, its systems had trapped her. Hooked her up to a seat and sent a needle through the port to her brain.

It's not much unlike the needle that her successor had evidently worked from scratch, which had been used to unintentionally bring Safronov back to the forefront. Such a crude design, but one that did the job it was supposed to. All Safronov needed to do was make sure it did its job even better. Her DYI handiwork was all over the shop she had set up base in, so that she could labor on in peace. Peace that was becoming more frequently disrupted through headaches and, now, blackouts.

Sometimes, she would lose track of what she was doing, only to wake up on the floor after trashing the extra tables, chairs, and shelves around her. Quite a racket, for those passing by on the outside and happen to notice a light beaming in the mostly empty establishment.

At some point, it gets even worse. Blackout. Then, another bloody headache. Literal this time. Blood is coming out of her nose as she grips her head, screaming and rolling on the floor. The agony is searing through her skull, electrifying her body and she feels it under her skin.

One bullet should do the trick. In her blinding pain, she crawls across the floor, to the table where she had been working at to find her gun there. Or, Rey's gun. Her successor's gun. It isn't like she hasn't done this before. This is her body, after all. A different owner has taken it now, but she recognizes the subtle flaws and blemishes that were special to her.

Regardless of whose gun this belongs to, it's Safronov's pill now. Just what the doctor ordered.

20th; Science Lab [CLOSED to Alphys sciencelizard + Nick Valentine synthedick]
(do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?)

Of course, her only 'remedy' had been less than ideal, though unsuccessful. In the end, she can't.

This isn't Safronov's life to take away anymore. Despite the pain that Rey had so badly wanted to erase, it was clear that she didn't want to be removed from the world entirely. Not when there were people who cared for her.

More than anyone ever cared about Safronov. There would never be anyone to mourn over her death, and she was better off that way for it. It gives her less reason to cling to this life, or lament the inevitable.

Still wracked with the hot pulsing pain tearing through her skull, Safronov somehow manages to make it across this strange and hot city, back to the place where she had began. While most seem to arrive here through that Door, she came through different means. Unlike the people here, however, she has an exit strategy.

Her nose is bleeding once again as Safronov opens the door to the science lab, the bag holding her supplies that she will need for this slung over her shoulder.

"Doctor?" Safronov calls into the lab before entering. She can't recall if the reptilian scientist had ever designated herself with such a title, but that is what she is called now. Whether the fact that such a creature could even be called a scientist has never struck her as strange, however. Perhaps a little bit of her successor remains, grounding them both, or it's just that Safronov has bigger concerns. "Are you here--?"

Oh. Oh no. Not again--

Safronov grunts, staggering forward while the door slams behind her. Eyes squeezed shut, she finds a wall to rest on, fighting to remain conscious this time.

30th; House 1401 [OPEN to close CR]
(you can't wake up, this is not a dream.)

Nearly a week and a half passes and Rey's body barely stirs in her bed, though it's hard to say if she still even is Rey. If not for the steady breathing, one could easily mistake the prone woman for a corpse.

Though she doesn't show it, every so often she is cognizant of her surroundings. Voices of those standing over her, their presence nearby. She hears, she listens, but she could never reply.

Until the ninth day since Safronov had gone rifling through their head once again. Only her eyes open, and for the first several hours all she can do is stare at the ceiling over her bed. Process her surroundings, feelings... who she is, why she's here, what happened. She remembers her name -- or a name, more like it. And a few other things. The mysteries keep her thoughts more than occupied for the long hours she can't move.

And then she blinks.

Isn't it about time you wake up, sleepyhead? says a quiet whisper in the back of her mind. Where has she heard that before? In a dream?

The questions flutter away as she closes her eyes again, until she hears the sounds of footsteps approaching the opened door to her room.

To what should come as no one's surprise, curled up at the end of the bed is a three-legged cat, whose head lifts at the prospect of company. They will find themselves being stared at by the one, single eye belonging to the creature, before yawning as he stretches his front leg over the covers.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For Carlisle's sake and Rey's own, it's a subject that is better off dropped. Especially so soon after her becoming cognizant of the world again.

There's a nightstand next to her bed for the mugs, so Rey doesn't have to move very far to reach for it when the tea would be prepared. She doesn't spend much time on the bed, but something tells her that the floor is not an ideal place to rest in her current state.

"Kitten-kind?" Rey echoes, thinking that he might mean a different sort of animal than the house cat and... whatever the hell Tripod is.

"One of the kinds of the Forest Folk, Miss Rey," Carlisle clarifies, setting a few items upon the nightstand: a piece of paper with a glyph drawn on it, then the two mugs, followed by a small, round bottle with a few leaves in it. Those leaves go into the mugs before he conjures the water to fill them, the magic taking no more than a simple gesture with one hand.

He pauses before activating the glyph, a somber smile wearing into his face as he thinks of the kitten-kind, then of others like them, particularly one Rey would know. "You know, I used to think Shadow was one of the Forest Folk. How wrong I was."

A brow arches at the paper, though not really reacting much beyond that. Magic is still a strange concept to her, but Rey is beyond the point of its novelty. Hell, she's got enough people calling her a 'mage' as it is.

"What, you mean they're generally not complete self-righteous assholes? That's good to know."

Her opinion on Shadow still has not changed, and she has no reason to think otherwise.

Her honest assessment of Shadow elicits a quiet, but nervous chuckle from Carlisle, as though he's afraid the hedgehog might reappear and hear them. He even glances over his shoulder for just a moment, looking for any windows through which Shadow might make his entrance.

"No no, the Forest Folk as a whole don't tend to be, ah. As you've described. Especially not the kitten-kind. And they wear pants."

That was apparently important enough for him to note it separately.

Edited 2018-03-29 03:39 (UTC)

Where Carlisle is met with nervous timidity, Rey is nowhere near as cautious when speaking her mind. She might have fucked with her brain recently, but she sure as hell remembers that mess and how infuriated she was that such an individual was even remotely related to the Guard's business for a time.

"And they wear pants," Rey echoes flatly. Because, yes, clearly this is the details that matters most. "Well, guess if they're going to be standing upright, they might as well look the part."

Or something. It's never been a huge deal to Rey, but she's never been one to gauge on the appropriateness of animal attire.

"Either way, don't worry about Tripod. He's just... wary around strangers." On top of being sickly radioactive, but Carlisle doesn't need to know that while the cat is hanging about.

Carlisle is about to go into the cultural significance behind the attire of the Forest Folk, but Rey beats him to it by bringing up the one-eyed cat. He closes his mouth, having opened it in preparation for a slew of words, as he eyes the cyclopean feline once more.

"O- of course," he says, pressing a finger to the glyph on the paper. The lines light up as energy flows into them, the water in the mugs coming to a boil. "I assume he is rather protective of you in- in times like these, with how the city has been as of late."

Fascinating as it must be, Rey would be more interested if she hadn't just woken up and wasn't dealing with a pounding in her skull. Perhaps a raincheck, though...

"Well, that's how he always is. Don't know why, though. Just showed up one day and never left."

And Rey isn't so cold-hearted to kick him out.

"He must be quite taken with you, then. Or perhaps it is that you are warm, being a pyromancer. They say cats are drawn to such things. The kitten-kind most certainly are."

And given his cold nature, that might be why Tripod seems so wary of him. Carlisle glances Tripod's way, his expression hardening. That single eye still stares, ever-watching.

"R- right. All right, I'm not here to cause trouble. I thought that your owner might have a headache, and I do know a solution for that."

He pulls his finger off the paper, the light dissipating as vapors rise from the cups. He carefully picks up one and offers it to Rey. "You can go ahead and breathe in the steam while this steeps. I- I thought that, given your particular anatomy, you might need it to be a bit stronger than I would usually make it."

At that, Rey just shrugs a shoulder. "Maybe."

She never really spent much time on why Tripod is the way he is. While it's a thought that's come up from time to time, it's not like Rey agonized over it for long.

Meanwhile, Tripod remains vigilant, as though sizing up Carlisle despite his (rather comedic) attempt at reassurance. If not for the fact that the cat does seem to understand speech, Rey would find the endeavor fruitless.

"Um. Thanks." Rey reluctantly accepts to steaming mug; the heat, unsurprisingly, not so hot for her to touch. She raises a brow as she takes in an unfamiliar scent from the drink. "What is it? This type of tea, that is."

"It is known as the the bond of Ulbrech," Carlisle answers. "Without an enchantment, it is a mild painkiller at best, but I made sure to imbue it with enough energy that it would be adequate for, ah. Someone of your nature." A half-construct of some sort, he means. "The leaves used to make it are from the paw plant, a species native to the Forest Folk lands, and if not for the benevolent efforts of famed alchemist Pendlebrook Brimstone, we might not have access to such an herb, as the Forest Folk tend to be fairly..."

He trails off. "You're... not interested in this explanation at all, are you?"

A couple years ago, Carlisle might as well be speaking Greek for all the sense that makes. But Rey has been around long enough that nonsense shit like 'enchantment' and 'Forest Folk' is almost normal.

This is what her life has come to.

She raises a brow as Carlisle stops himself.

"What? No, it's fine. Was listening. Did it look like I wasn't listening?" Rey blinks as she rubs the side of her face. Maybe she's still got that blank look going on, or Safronov's somber expression plastered to her facial muscles. Spending nearly a month as a Russian assassin lady could do that to you.

"Ah. A bit," he admits sheepishly. "I am aware that I... tend to ramble. Get lost in my own thoughts and whatnot. I didn't want to bore you, as I have others."

Carlisle, as usual, is no stranger to his own faults; he has been made painfully aware of them throughout his life, and while he hasn't always managed to rein his behaviors in, he has tried to subdue them as much as possible. Dealing with a twice-cursed should be punishment enough.

Wow, Carlisle. Bro. Don't jump to such conclusions. Rey happens to enjoy hearing about new things.

"Actually, that sort of stuff is rather interesting." The corner of her mouth turns into a strained grin. She's still working on her muscles, it seems. "Don't suppose you've heard of elfroot? There's someone here who's managed to grow them somewhere. It's supposed to have some healing qualities or whatever."

See? Leaning shit and listening to people. It's useful and may one day even save your life!

Rey offers Carlisle a strained smile, and he finds himself smiling back, his gratitude written across him.

"I haven't," he admits, "but I suppose I should look into it. Admittedly, I tend to keep to my garden alone, leaving others to deal with the orchard of the gods." Not that he doesn't have a couple of samples from the orchard, just for experimentation. "I thought that by hiding my garden away in the park, I would be left to my own devices, but with this world and how dry it can be, it has become a, ah. Conspicuous green spot, I'm afraid. Aheh."

He doesn't yet drink his tea, but takes a moment to breathe in the steam, letting the vapors settle in him; his shoulders relax, heat spreading through them, easing his muscles.

The orchards have been a welcome addition, especially since Rey opened the Speakeasy. The fruits there are necessary ingredients for her drinks, after all.

Rey finally takes a few sips of her tea after breathing much of it in. The fumes and taste are welcome things to wake up to.

"Lucky for you, you're not the only one with a green thumb around here."

Seems that Rose has been equally dedicated to keeping the orchards alive since Sorrow's passing. Again, a very appreciated effort from where Rey is.

"Indeed," Carlisle replies, sucking in another breath through his nose. The smell, like the taste, is a bit bitter with a hint of sweetness that comes in seconds after; it's a pleasant fragrance overall, and one Carlisle is used to by now. He's been brewing this particular kind of tea for years now, more and more as his body fails him. In some cases, it has been the only way to ease the burden of his continued existence, which has become heavier on a physical level as well as a moral one. The trouble now is that he has found a reason to live, and still hasn't the means for it.

He pushes a sigh out of him. "With that being the case, I assume someone will find it and take care of it, should something happen to me. Miss Rose has been by there, you know."

Rey doesn't really question the words 'should something happen to me', given the way things tend to go here. Nothing is permanent, it seems. Not even people, be it their presence or their behavior, can be constant. It isn't something she enjoys thinking about much, herself, but it can't be helped. Better to be prepared for anything to happen.

"Has she?" Rey takes another sip and wonders how long ago that's been. "Has she told you that what you did worked for her?"

Carlisle is almost glad Rey doesn't question how long he'll be around, or what he means by something happening to him. He knows he's going to have to deal with that eventually, but for a time, it's easier to just breathe in the steam of his enchanted tea and think about other things.

He glances to Rey at her question. "She hasn't, actually," he admits. "It was successful, then? It's- it's not easy to tell immediately. To be frank, I- I worried I might do more harm than good."

At last it's not done without caring. Rey knows that nothing is forever, especially not here where change is so constant. Carlisle is just as likely to vanish someday as anyone else she cares about around here. In a way, she thinks it smart to plan ahead, just in case. Maybe she should start to do the same with the Speakeasy, in case the Door ever decides to send her back home again -- for good...

"Think she was thinking the same, honestly," Rey admits, as she's able to remember their little camping trip together when Rey had prepared their dinner. "But so far, she seems fine."

That's what counts.

"Good. Good good good."

A genuine smile works its way onto Carlisle's face, one made easier with how the effects of the tea coax him into relaxing. He can feel the energy imbued within it tingling in his fingers, sensation there so absent some days; the quiet thudding in his head clears, his more cumbersome thoughts quiet at last.

"And how are you doing?" he asks after a moment, belatedly realizing he never quite asked. Thankfully, the tea seems to quell any immediate panic he would have normally had about his forgotten manners, too.

Carlisle certainly seems more... chipper on this stuff. Maybe it's good for him, after all.

It's helping to alleviate the pain in her own head, at least. Hopefully these headaches won't last long, or she'll need more than a solitary cup of tea to treat it.

Rey starts to take another drink, then pauses at Carlisle's question. Luckily, the rudeness is the last thing on her mind.

"Well enough. Feels like I've been run over by a herd of elephants, but I have woken up in worse places than this."

Try waking up in places you don't even remember going to sleep at on a regular basis. It's not fun.

"Have you?" Carlisle asks lightly. Well, of course she has. She wouldn't have said so otherwise. What a dumb question.

But despite that instant of self-degradation, Carlisle's smile remains, curiosity overpowering his mild embarrassment. "Tell me of one of those places, if you don't mind."

"What, you're asking about the strange places I've woken up in?" Rey snorts as she takes another drink of her tea. Oh, what the hell, she isn't about to make this awkward now. "Well, woke up in a morgue once."

Or maybe she will make this awkward, and morbid -- literally.

"A morgue?" Carlisle blinks, a little incredulous. Rey isn't an undead -- he knows that much for certain, having healed her more than once now -- so there must be another explanation. With his head starting to swim from the tea, his mind (and his mouth) go wild with speculation.

"You- you were mistaken dead?" he starts with, not waiting for an answer before throwing out another guess. "Or you faked your own death. Spectacularly. And when you emerged from your slumber, you so frightened the embalmer that they fled without so much as looking back."

Rey opens her mouth to explain, but not before Carlisle continues with a whole comedic scenario of his own design.

Her mouth snaps back shut and she takes another gulp of tea. Sure, she could give him the whole story. Tell him how she woke up in the morgue of an abandoned hospital, probably left there to rot by Gregory after Safronov had served her purpose, and had been fighting for her life ever since, but...

She sort of likes his verion better.

"Yes, that's exactly how it happened," she simply says through another sip, waiting to see if it'll take long for him to realize she's pulling his leg. "How did you know? You must be a wizard!"

you're part of a machine [OPEN/CLOSED]

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