how can anything survive when these little minds tear you in two? [SEMI-OPEN]

[circumitus]

Who: Rey, her Doppelgänger, and VARIOUS (includes both open and closed starters in the comments).
What: Following the train of separate open logs over the Dead Ringers event. The timeline in the link is relatively loose but it covers the gist of things.
Where: Several corners of Hadriel.
When: January 16th-25th.
Warnings: Violence. Possible death and implications of sexual assault/innuendo. Manipulation. Rey is not a happy person by any means and does not have a very happy background. Feel free to check out the permissions post if you have any concerns beforehand.
Notes: If you're tagging in an open prompt, please be sure to indicate which day of the week it is in the subject line! Also I'll try to match whichever format you fancy.

---

I. January 16th-20th

She was created out of air. Not a construct from a lab, melded together by flesh and cells donated by two exceptional genetic donors.

Oh, ho, ho, it's magic, you know,
Never believe, it's not so.

Magic. At one point her other half would have chided at the very suggestion of such a thing existing. But time breeds experience, and experience inspires intrigue. Intrigue which turns into a little bit of curiosity. After all, her time here is limited, before returning to the ether where all the constructs inevitably go. So what's the use in fretting over details and results?

No, this is fun. Too much so for it to be short-lived any more than it already is meant to be. Thus, she keeps her distance, following her other half for some time before deciding to deviate. Good thing Rey is not one to maintain a diverse wardrobe, as looking the part is simple enough. Walking the part, talking the part, being the part is simple enough. It isn't the first time she has had to.

The only difference is the usual weapons she bears are different. One would have to be observant enough to notice the long machete at her hip in place of the kukri, the blade dissimilar in shape and curve. She'll make use of it, sooner or later...

For now, she can be found in some parts of the city: By the river, in the groves, or in alleyways, hacking and slashing at the air from which she was formed. The swift motions cutting through with a whistle as the blade makes effortless strikes with trained precision.

Just be careful where you step. Wouldn't want to get cut, would we?

Would we?

II. Wildcard

[ooc: If you have any other ideas in mind, just tag in whatever or contact me ahead of time, via plot comment, PM, or hit me up on plurk (citygrit) or discord (revalev#6927)!

Comments

THANKS FOR NOTHING, NOTIFS >:(

[synthedick]

Though the tapping is almost too faint for Nick to pick up, Sharon's faster pace tells him enough -- she heard something, heard Rey beneath her. They're close... but are they too late?

Nick usually wants to know the answers, but he's not sure he wants to know that one. Some things are too much even for a weathered synth like himself. He's made of metal, more mechanical than human, but there's only so much a heart like his can take.

He wants to slide down into the hole as Sharon reaches the coffin; he wants to help as she tears back the lid to reveal the only family he has in both this world and his own, but he knows he's in no condition to do so. Rey might not be in any condition herself to help him back out again, either. She's tough, but he knows her, knows that being trapped won't sit well with her.

The scars go far deeper than that, though: some wounds never heal, and some are made raw again as the gods toy with their emotions. Usually cool and collected, even Nick's are being pushed as he waits at the top of the grave, his brow etched with concern, mouth pulled into a tight frown as he kneels, his hand outstretched to help them both out.

[circumitus]

Those last few seconds could have been hours after days spent focusing on her breathing. Thinking of nothing else but concentrating on living a few minutes long. All she needed was time.

How long had it been since she ran out? With her phone taken and her perception of time itself warped by isolation, it was impossible to tell. That's what happens when you spend so long in your head: It becomes its own prison.

(Is this real?)

Lungs searing and vision failing, the last thing Rey expected to see was a white light. Oxygen once again flowed into the hole in the ground that was supposed to be her tomb. Having only made use of what little air she had left in this pocket just to survive, the first inhale was beyond overwhelming.

She gasps, throwing her hands over her face to shield her eyes from the blinding light pouring down from above. Parts of her skin and shirt are caked with dried blood, mixed with dirt. The mere act of breathing is like a ravenous hunger overtaking her after a long fast. Worse yet, she can't see who stands above her to know if they are saviors or the very ones who put her under, returning for the purpose to force her to endure it all over again.

Not again.

Unable to speak between gulps of air, the only thing Rey can articulate is a scream.

[unitas]

The scream is piercing, startling, and Sharon does the only thing she can think to do: touch the other woman, palms hot and wet with sweat and blood. Rey's name falls from her lips more times than she can count, followed by consistent,"You're okay, you're all right, you're safe."

There's not a lot she can do to offer comfort and can only look to Nick with a wide, worried expression. What can they do? Is there anything they even can do?

[synthedick]

Nick returns Sharon's worried expression with one of his own, his teeth gritting together as he watches his only family fall to a moment of hysteria, raw emotion so foreign to her usual persona that one might mistake her for someone else entirely.

Not Nick, though. Not with Rey.

He thought otherwise a moment ago, but down into the grave he goes, his own injuries be damned. Landing heavily in the coffin, he drops his cane to wrap both his arms around Rey, so absolutely overcome with concern that he doesn't even stop to think about the way it must feel to be embraced by his metal frame, or if she's even aware it's him. He utters her name a few times, quiet whispers in a soft tone to try to draw her back to reality, reassurances to match Sharon's. She's here. She's safe.

God, he's glad she's alive.

[circumitus]

Is this real?

The next few seconds practically confirms the answer to that question burning in her mind. And the reality of it shakes her. What it was her dead ringer had try to do, what it had almost made her do. If not for that pitiable promise she had made to herself never to do something like that again, she would have made good use of the blade left behind for her.

She could have. She would have. But Rey didn't. That's Sharon's voice she hears now. Those are Nick's arms around her -- hard to mistake those metal parts embracing her for anyone else. Every muscle in her body goes rigid, before the next sound to come out of her is not a yell or even words, but a strangled gasp as she buries her face against Nick's shoulder. Fighting the ever-waging war not to scream or cry, and instead just gnashes her teeth and pulls her arms underneath Nick's, hooking behind his back.

"Didn't... think anyone would... come," she finally says, voice scratchy and shaking while holding back the stabbing tears. Don't cry, don't cry, you don't fucking get to cry.

[unitas]

Sharon watches the scene unfold, Rey wrapping around Nick as she struggles to keep everything bottled up. Her words sound painful, raspy from disuse or, perhaps, too much use. She lets them fold into one another, recognizing the familial quality to it; the grasping for comfort from someone loved. She feels like an outlier and crosses her arms across her chest, discomfited by Rey's show of emotion or the fact that she can feel the familar prick of envy.

"That's what you get for thinking," The words lack any bitterness. She's just glad the other woman is safe, even if there have been times she wanted to smash her face in just a little bit. Buried alive, that's no way to go.

[synthedick]

Though he sees the discomfort Sharon expresses through body language alone, Nick holds Rey another moment, feeling the pull against his back as her arms hook behind him, the gasp at his shoulder as she chokes back tears. He lets her have that moment to do what she needs to do, no matter how much she might hold it back. He needs that moment himself. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if he had to once again see the corpse of someone he loved killed on his watch.

"Come on," he says finally, still holding onto her, letting her determine when to pull away. "Let's get you out of here. Somewhere safe."

And given the beating he took there from the other Rey, their home is probably not an option.

[circumitus]

"Didn't have many other options," Rey mutters in response to Sharon's comment, similarly devoid of any animosity between them. "Wasn't exactly left with a book or anything."

After all that time, she can at least attempt at a joke somehow. It's easier to get out than deal with stupid emotions and what's really on her mind right now -- and that's that she would rather be anywhere but here.

So when Nick speaks, a tight feeling knots up in her chest. "I can walk... I can... I can walk."

As she says this, she starts to move. Despite spending several hours (days? feels like years) underground, she trains her muscles to move and chokes down the feelings chipping away at the surface of her visage. You're supposed to be a soldier, dammit. Fucking act like one.

[unitas]

Sharon goes to pull herself up from the grave first, the knowledge that she's in better condition than the two of them put together right now the only thing on her mind. She struggles some but manages to hoist herself up before turning to offer her hand to both Nick and Rey.

"I can take you to my place," She offers. There are a lot of places to stay around here, to hide out in, but no place seems safe with the doubles running around,"My double is dead so you won't have to worry about her getting involved."

[synthedick]

Nick, knowing the synthetic parts of Rey aren't anything to laugh about weight-wise, lets her go next. He'll need her help getting out of the hole himself, given the puddle of coolant and the condition of his leg.

"Thanks, Sharon," he says, preparing himself to give Rey a boost if need be. "I'm not about to take any chances that our house might be occupied."

[circumitus]

Putting all of her focus and energy into shifting her strength into dragging her own self out of the hole in the ground, Rey simply accepts Sharon's hand for sake of balance. She knows her limits and the limits of others to be more than aware that most can't easily haul over three-hundred pounds worth of a synthetic war machine.

Not that Rey reflects on the nature of what she is right now. Weak, shaking, dirty, fighting to stifle emotions so that they can escape first... They have to escape. Who knows if the ones that put her down there in the first place would make a return trip for whatever reason. Ensure that she was buried and forgotten.

She climbs to the surface level, not allowing her tired muscles to deter her when she leans in to pull Nick out. Though she hasn't had the chance to fully assess his condition, it's obvious that something is wrong with him.

One thing at a time, okay?

Rather than making use of words from her scratchy throat, Rey just nods at Sharon's offer. If nothing else, she needs a few hours to regroup. Collect her thoughts.

And then, assuming that the thing is still alive, look into cutting open the throat of her own double herself. Make good on that promise she made before layers of soil had separated them.

[unitas]

It takes more than just a little physical exertion to help pull Rey up, heels dug into the dirt to better stabilize herself. Her telekinectic abilities would come in well at this moment but her mind can only concentrate on one thing: get these two some place safe so they can be looked over and... Fuck.

What can she do for synthetic people? It's not like she's a mechanic.

Those thoughts drift away as she helps Rey pull Nick from the grave. Her current housing was located in the second spire and, with another quick glance at the injuries on Nick, luckily the first floor.

"For safety, I say we avoid as many people as we can, and, if you can handle it, take the slightly longer route." She doesn't want them to run into something the three of them might not be able to handle—like Rey's double, if she's still out there.