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.

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"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!"

Carlisle seems so excited for a second; his mouth widens into a toothy grin, a chuckle escaping him. Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to even question whether or not Rey is teasing him, his expression faltering at a single word. Gone is his smile, his shoulders stiffening as his brows furrow in alarm.

"W- no no no, I'm not- I'm not a wizard!" He pulls his mug to him, as though shielding it from the very notion. "Why- why would you say that? That's not- that's not what wizards do!"

Of course. Why wouldn't she just assume the guy who talks about enchantments and shit would have wizards in his world, too.

Reyjust snorts, shaking her head. "It's just... It's a phrase. Calm down." She waves a hand, holding her mug in the other.

Then, she pauses.

"So what do wizards do? The ones you know about?"

Carlisle's eyes bury themselves in his mug, his frown widening. "They wield magic that is a perversion of its natural state," he answers, biting his lip. "It- I understand that it may not be that way where you come from, but to be considered a wizard or a w- witch is not, ah."

He loses his train of thought somewhere, and decides to drown his offense in his drink instead, taking a heavy swallow. Rey meant nothing by it, he chides inwardly.

The heat soothes his throat, and his nerves with it as a shudder runs through his entire frame. "Different times," he continues, talking himself down. "I shouldn't be so defensive immediately, should I?"

Where she comes from? Rey just shakes her head, her mouth twisting in what looks like is supposed to be a grin. "No, we don't have wizards at all. Nothing beyond fiction or games, that is. Even those seem to have different rules and definitions of what wizards and witches are, depending on what you're playing."

Rey might not be the biggest nerd there is, but her brother sure was. It was nice to have something to connect with Orion over, though, even if it's something as silly as video games and the like.

"Probably," Rey agrees with Carlisle. "That might've been something of an overreaction."

It's okay. She's just accepted that that's a Carlisle thing.

A sheepish grin works its way onto Carlisle's face as he reddens, the smile still present despite his embarrassment, a contradiction to his usual behavior when he's made a fool of himself. The tea certainly has a hold on him once he's been inhaling the steam for a while. It's a little like with the fireflies so long ago; however, the main difference -- that he chooses to feel like this -- is an important distinction.

"My apologies, Miss Rey," he offers, the corners of his mouth still curling. "I, aheh. Perhaps I should be less, um. Abrasive toward the term. I have been called worse, I suppose. Not- not here, but certainly in my lifetime."

The choice matters. Rey had almost forgotten how she had seen him like this when Delight's fireflies were about, but now she's being reminded all over again.

"Really?" Rey lifts a brow, eyes on Carlisle as she takes another drink of tea. Good stuff. Interesting conversation. "Well, that makes two of us. But don't worry about it -- that wasn't meant to be an insult."

She recognizes some guilt and regret in Carlisle. He didn't need to be chatty for her to notice. But he never struck her as the type who'd get chatty about it under normal circumstances.

"No, I- I shouldn't have assumed as much, coming from you. You have..."

That curl on his lips softens with genuine sentiment. "You have done a lot for me, and as much as you insist I need not repay you, I am forever in your debt. Though you don't remember the other world, I'm glad to have met you here, as well."

Of all the things Rey could expect from Carlisle, mushy feelings aren't one of them. Her mouth tightens as she ducks her head.

"Well, don't do those things for gratitude or anything." She waves a hand dismissively. "And that shit still sounds weird to me, but... if it's helped, then good. You've saved my ass a number of times, too."

Never had she even considered Carlisle to be indebted to her in any way. Rey just couldn't stand by while she sees someone allowing themselves to be mistreated like he had been. It's too close to home for her.

"I do what I can, Miss Rey," Carlisle insists. "Let us simply hope that you are not torn apart by constructs or attacked by another shirtless figure under the influence of the gods."

He's pretty sure the guy would have been shirtless with or without the gods' influence, though. He sips at his drink, which is definitely working by now.

"How is your tea? Is it strong enough, or should I refine the enchantment?"

Torn apart by...?

Funny. Why does she feel so weird thinking about that? Maybe it's just the tea. She'll chalk it up to the tea.

"Wouldn't count on it, but I'll do what I can." Rey won't make promises that she'll never be in danger again, because she can't. But she doesn't have the death wish she used to.

She hums, takes another drink for good measure.

"You can make this stuff even stronger than this?"

It's almost tempting. The weird feeling is passing now, not even a thought.

"Quite a bit," Carlisle answers, "should this not be strong enough. I'll admit that this is only a bit less powerful than how I prefer it, but I didn't want to inundate you with magic to the point of intoxication. I should have recalled that you have some, ah. Natural resistances."

He offers her an apologetic smile before sipping at his drink again, fighting the chuckle that rumbles out of him. "I drink this quite often myself. My head has never been well, admittedly, and as my joints follow suit, this helps."

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

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