Cho's open log for October (and September, if desired)

[tenuefarfalla]

WHO: Cho, with a few starters for specific people. Also open prompts for anyone else.
WHAT: meal prep/serving/clean-up, walking various random animals through the city, morning five mile runs, reflection on just how flipping weird life is now, and misc.
WHERE: all over, really
WHEN: I'm fine backdating anything into the month of September, as I kind of vanished, and also doing anything through October. Basically, it's a two month spanning open log.

NOTES: I can't stand writing in action spam (takes my head right out of the writing), but I don't mind reading it. (Just please don't use tiny text for your brackets.) So if you only write brackets, and don't mind our styles not matching, you can write brackets and I'll write prose and we can still have some awesome CR.


A - mess hall kitchen
Being a cafeteria cook on an alien planet had never been any part of her ten year plan, but life has a funny way of turning tables on you. Cho has had the rug pulled out from under her often enough to know that the only way to survive it is to adapt. In that regard, her family has done her a huge favour with their neglect and disregard. She knows how to adapt. It's not always easy, mind you, but she can do it.

Making food for her fellow displaced refugees, it gives her a very concrete and tangible purpose. People are hungry, she feeds them. It's simple. It's easy. It's also yielding far more immediate and gratifying results than her work in the fish hatchery and bio-lad with Annie and Finnick, which is incredibly slow going, getting the place even functional.

This work is also putting her in the path of new people. Even if it's only to greet them in the mornings and evenings and ask them which of the hot food selections they'd like. She's learning to put names to faces, and feeling accomplished and appreciated, and it's wonderful. Doubly so when someone offers their time to hep her out, and triply so when they don't just want to clean and chop and fetch and carry, but are interested in learning. She loves teaching. She misses it. And while cooking is a far cry from biology, it's still some form of wisdom that she can impart.

[[OOC: If you want to assume that your character and Cho have seen each other enough to know names and bare basics about one another, feel free. If you would like to assume that they've already been helping her with meal prep and stuff, also feel free to do that. Or have them meet for the first time. Whatever works.]]

B - walkways - exercising animals or running (mornings only)
Cho's various trips to the upper levels while the power was out and her subsequent experiments have not netted her much useful information. What she has ended up with is a menagerie of various random animals who have all become far too comfortable with the idea of being brought their food and kept safe from predators for her to ever feel anything but guilty about releasing them back into the upper levels.

So they are her responsibility now, and while some of them are perfectly content to just stay in their little makeshift enclosures, some of them get fed up with her room, and want space. Which she provides in the form of walks. She really wishes that she had a dog. It would at least be something vaguely normal. Instead, she can be found at random hours of the day with varying combinations of cat, hedgehogs, sugar glider, chinchilla, lizard, and quite a few random bits of fur and fluff that don't quite match up with anything she's used to. High energy, though, hence the excursions at random times of the day, when they seem particularly restless.

---

The animals are not the only ones that need exercising. This place wears and grates and it ends up driving Cho kind of nuts sometimes. She's made a promise to not wander off without a buddy, but that doesn't mean she can't go anywhere.

So, sometimes, there are on animals with her while she goes wandering around the walkways on the safe levels. Instead, it's just her and her earphones, her feet eating up the miles as she hurtles herself through the concrete maze that's becoming depressingly familiar. While she might prefer to work out her excess energy someplace a little more private, she won't break her word, and so her morning runs end up taking her back and forth along the residential walkway, as she racks up the miles by retracing her footsteps over and over again in front of the common areas. At least, this early in the morning, it's fairly deserted.

Of course, if she does ever come across someone doing the same thing, well, they would qualify as not going anywhere alone, and would open up a lot of the rest of Anchor as an option for her workouts.

C - spa
It's not a patch on the ocean, but having a functional and clean large body of water to swim in is still doing wonders for Cho's sense of well-being. Not to mention, getting her hair properly cleaned, and the occasional mani-pedi when she allows herself that much time. She favors the area that looks like a Japanese hot spring, doing a lot of floating silently in the large communal area, her hair fanning out around her, floating on the surface of the water like an oil slick. it almost feels like being home, which usually ends up with a tight prickling in her chest and a lump in her throat, but she fights through that. It's good to miss something. It's far better than having nothing you care about.

Most of the time, she's silent, and anyone else arriving might not notice her for a while. Especially if she's tucked herself away in some corner, sitting in water that's shallow enough for it, but deep enough to leave only her nose and above out of the water. She can definitely see the appeal of this place for fun and relaxation, but most of the time, she's either steaming herself in slightly too hot water for homesickness, or swimming laps with the setting as cold as it will go... not that lukewarm is particularly cold.

D - observation deck
The more random detritus from random worlds that shows up to populate the landscape, the more Cho finds herself inexplicably drawn to the observation decks that look out over the desert. She doesn't have a desire to go and see most of it up close, and not just because she'd be on her own in a dangerous place, but viewing it from this distance is strangely compelling.

So she does, settling herself on a bench, or on the floor with her back leaning against a bench, almost always with the animal carrier containing a cat and a giant caterpillar. Sometimes she lets them out to wander, though the most the caterpillar ever seems to do is hang from the edge of her seat, viewing the world from his strange upside down vantage point.

! WILDCARD

Wandering around in general, hanging out in her room, any other location or activity that you're interested in that I haven't talked about. Feel free to either come poke me to plan something, or to just go for it here and we'll make it work on the fly.

Comments

[tenuefarfalla]

When Ben asks if it happened to her, too, Cho just nods her head, a little hint of extra sadness in her eyes. She knows what it's like to be seen as less than family, as less than a whole person. She's made her peace with it, as much as she can - she's decided to be happy in spite of it, to be grateful for the good in her life rather than regretful over the bad in her life. "You're welcome," she whispers, just as content as he is to stay close, to have a little bit of physical comfort. Her grandfather's most effective discipline technique had always been the withholding of all physical affection, leaving Cho in a lonely void until she managed to unlock the secret of what he wanted from her and how he wanted it, the ever changing mystery of what would please him enough for him to allow her to see her brother, be hugged by her mother, the restrained pats on the top of her head that he used to dole out like they were as scarce as black opals and just as difficult to part with.

Then he drops his big news, and she freezes.

Cho's blood runs cold. It's an extremely unpleasant sensation. Her whole body feels leaden and foreign, the bottom dropping out of her stomach, her throat closing up. Her eyes begin to shine with un-shed tears, and her breathing turns shallow and heavy. They made him disposable, too, in a very literal way, and Cho's not sure she's ever felt more filled with rage in her entire short life.

"That-- asshole." There's not a single gentler word that she can use, that adequately expresses what she's feeling. She wants to tear him apart with her bare hands, and she's never even met him. She wants to grab him and shake him and scream at him, how could he not have realized what a gift it is to have someone as special as Ben vying for your love and acceptance? How could he not see what he was wasting? How could he do that to his children? He's dead, and she feels no regret for the loss of his life, and she doesn't like that she feels no regret, but there it is.

She wraps her arms around Ben, pulls him in tight, tucks his face against the side of her neck, and refuses to let go. She hugs him as tightly as she can, as though she can somehow reach back through the years if she's strong enough, and wipe away all that pain. If he wasn't already so close to the counter, she'd probably be in his lap. How amazing is it that he's been through so much, and still come out the other side of it such a kind and gentle person? What a miracle he is.

[benhargreeves]

Ben feels and sees Cho tense, when he says he'd died, and unease digs into him, prickling and awful. Is she afraid of him, now, finally? Had he said the wrong thing, and paid back all her kindness with terror? He can hear her breaths changing and his worry twists tighter. She is scared, isn't she?

But then he manages to look up and he sees that she's almost crying, that she is angry and sad for him, but not afraid of him. It's easier to speak, once she's hugging him again, hiding her face. Ben sucks in a long breath, still shuddery from tears. He's so grateful to her, for not asking how. For not probing for details. And - there's something a bit thrilling and good, hearing someone else call his dad an asshole. To have that glimpse of an outside perspective, and realize, that to a lot of people, to someone like Cho, the things he' done and allowed were beyond the pale.

"Yeah."

He heaves a shuddering sigh, hugging Cho back. In the wake of his panic attack and all those tears, he's feeling hollowed-out, numb, slow. But along with that exhaustion, honesty is somehow easier, and the words come more readily.

"I really am sorry I didn't mention it earlier. There's never really a good time to drop the whole... dying thing into a conversation. Sort of a mood killer."

There is so much more misery he could wallow in. Fucked-up as it is to say, Cho's only just scratched the surface. But he thinks she understands that, and he is worn out, emotionally. So he shuts his eyes, knowing it'll take his body a lot longer to really believe it is safe, to get over those horrible sobs that had torn out of him.

"But this, coming there? It's... my second chance. Because I didn't get out of that place alive. And there's so much I missed, because of it. I didn't... ever have any friends. Just my siblings, and it was. I mean, you know what I'm talking about. When you're in... when the situation's... abusive, things can be complicated. Between siblings."

He isn't sure if he's overstepping, implying a similarity between their families, calling hers abusive by extension, or at least comparable to an abusive family. But he remembers a little of what she's said about her brother, and, well. Ben's not sure it's all that wrong. But that hadn't been the point he was working towards.

"I'm glad... I get a second chance, to have a friend like you."

[tenuefarfalla]

"What were you supposed to say?" she asks him with a watery little chuckle. "Hi, my name is Ben. i used to be dead and I have an inter-dimensional pal behind my belly button. What do you do for fun?" She's a little sniffly, but she's not running, and she's not mad. She rubs her face against his hoodie, wiping her eyes. Not the most dignified thing ever. Sorry.

She smiles when he calls her his friend. Not that he can see it. "I know what you mean. It's not normal, any of it. My brother started out as my only real ally, and then I think... I think we were used against one another, as competition. I know they used me to make him feel bad about himself. I always hated that. I still hope that some day, when we're older, we'll find our way back to one another. Because there's always a chance, right? This is yours. I'm... I'm really happy to be part of it. I'm really glad that I met you, that I get to have a friend like you, too."

[benhargreeves]

Ben laughs, too, still hiccupy from sobs, but there's some actual amusement in it. And he doesn't bat an eye at her wiping her face on his hoodie. See, Cho, this is the advantage of always wearing black. Whether it's blood or tears or streaked make-up, it can take just about anything, and all he has to do is wash it. Stain-remover is for chumps.

"Maybe I should make a business card and just hand it out to new people? Save a lot of time that way."

He listens quietly, as Cho talks about her family using her brother against her, and vice-versa, for competition. And it sounds so very familiar. Number One and Number Two. Had that been an experiment, too, Ben wonders sometimes. Reginald trying to find out how completely he could destroy two children by pitting them against each other, one forever the inferior, the other the favorite, but with a sword of Damocles always dangling over his head, so he felt the need to fight not to be replaced?

If it was like that with Cho and her brother, it hasn't left an anger in her, the way it had to both Luther and Diego. At least not that Ben's ever seen.

"I'm sorry to hear your family did that to you both. Um. My dad actually did, too. With two of my brothers. And after he died they... well, they're not exactly best friends, yet, but they're trying. They're getting there. So I hope - you and your brother will be able to, too. You deserve it."

And if Cho's brother isn't willing to recognize how they'd been manipulated, to see Cho for the wonderful person she is, then fuck him, honestly. She deserves appreciation. Hopefully, someday, that can come from her biological family. But for now, Ben will do his part.

[tenuefarfalla]

"I hope so, too." Which is really all that needs to be said. Hope for the future. That's what keeps her going, that tender, fragile, shivering little green shoot of hope, unfurling in her heart, reaching for the sunlight. Oh man, it's been a really wild ride. She should be expecting it, really, when she sees Ben. They keep on having these very intense interactions, very revealing conversations, and someone always ends up crying. It's their theme, apparently. At least it hasn't started Ben avoiding her.

She pulls back far enough that she can wipe her eyes on the heel of her hand. Her mascara is waterproof, and her eyeliner is smudged, but it could be a lot worse. "May I ask you a question? And I know asking if I may ask a question is asking a question. I mean another question." When he gives her the nod, she continues. "What was his name? The man who... collected you all?" She can't keep calling him Ben's father, even in her own mind. He wasn't a father, no claim to them biologically or emotionally. Cho hates him, and Cho doesn't hate anyone. It's strange.

[benhargreeves]

That question surprises Ben - as does Cho's deliberate choice not to just call the man his father. It's not unprecedented, obviously. Klaus sometimes snottily makes a great point of calling him their adoptive father; Ben had always thought that the one Klaus was trying to convince most whenever he did that was himself. Even if they aren't related by blood, even if he had bought them, even if he was abusive and cold, he was still Ben's father.

But then, maybe Ben's lack of understanding why Cho wants to draw that distinction is because this was the only type of dad he'd ever known. Maybe it's something that makes sense to everyone else, just not him, because he's fucked up. There's no denying he's fucked up - he had had a complete fucking meltdown over a blood draw he could have easily said no to and the mention of a sleep test that he also easily could have said no to.

"Reginald. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, technically."

It feels so strange, calling him that. Ben had never picked up Klaus's habit of calling him Reggie out of spite. To Ben, he'd always just been Dad.

Ben rubs the back of his neck, a little unease creeping back into him, just a low-level hum. Because in spite of all that, some little impulse in the back of his mind had just kicked, like a reflex. Wanting him to tell her it wasn't all bad. To insist that really, it could have been worse... there are extenuating circumstances, such as Ben being an unnatural monster, and really when you think about it...

He doesn't want to acknowledge those rustling thoughts, so he says, with more than a little awkwardness:

"Since we're talking about names. Um. Another thing for the business card... my name's not. Really Ben. It's ... Number Six."

It seems worth mentioning, if only to perhaps avoid the possibility of another accidental catastrophe like the one that just happened. Ben can't get rid of all the landmines, but he can try to point out a few of them, at least. And the one benefit of this whole mess is that he isn't going to have to explain the implications of that, now. Cho knows that, to his dad, to Reginald, he wasn't a child, to be loved and protected. He was a number. And the idea that a number deserves to be treated ethically is absurd.

[tenuefarfalla]

The sir gives her a strange impulse to snort with laughter. She's known a few, very particular about not having the title left off their name. She's not super surprised by it.

What does surprise her - shock her, really - is the fact that Ben claims that he doesn't even really have his name. He has a number. That's-- she honestly doesn't even know what to do with that. The men in her family hadn't cared enough about her to get involved in naming her, but at least they'd handed the responsibility over to someone so that she would have a name.

She rolls this around in her mind for a while. She even takes a moment to use one corner of her handkerchief to clean up the areas underneath her eyes, no mirror required, until her smudged liner looks like something more intentional, like a heavy take on a smoky eye. She's very good at that, he's probably noticed, at keeping her appearance in check using muscle memory alone.

"Do you want to be Number Six? Or... do you want to be Ben?"

[benhargreeves]

Ben has noticed that. It's not quite at the level of a conscious realization, yet, but he's seen it more than a few times, now. How Cho always puts herself back together, like it's a reflex. There's something different about it, compared to how Ben will scrub the tears from his cheeks, or want to wash the blood from out of his hair. It doesn't seem to be entirely about internal experience, so much as keeping up appearances.

But he doesn't say anything, just... half-files it away in the back of his mind.

Her question is phrased in a way that almost makes it sound very existential, and if he would maybe try to make a joke about that, on a better day. But he hasn't got the energy or wits or resilience for it right now, after all that. Even though he's feeling better now, all that panic, all the intense emotions, have left him feeling wrung out.

So he answers directly, plainly.

"Ben's the only name I have that doesn't make me hate myself."

Number Six. The Horror. Even Hargreeves is fraught for him, though he tolerates it. Ben is the only one he had ever wanted to be. The only one he'd ever been called with even a shred of love in it.

[tenuefarfalla]

"Then you're Ben," she says, like it's a grand declaration, an important decision, with weight behind it. It might not have the weight of time and study, but it carries weight for her all the same. It's emotional weight. He doesn't say that Ben is the name he likes the most, but the only one that doesn't make him hate himself, and he's not someone deserving of hate, which means that the other names are wrong. They're not him. Anything that brings hate to his world shouldn't be there.

She clears her throat, and tucks her handkerchief away, and reaches out to straighten his hoodie and brush away dust that does not exist. "You are my friend, Ben. You are good and kind and thoughtful. You care about other people so much, and deserve all the best things from life." A single nod. "Yes. Definitely a Ben."

All in a name. They're such strange things. Cho chews on her lip for a moment, a little flicker of internal struggle darting across her face. A rose by any other name, right? "My family put a lot of thought into naming my brother. They named him Kazuki. Kazu has a lot of meanings, depending on how you write it. It means one - the first, the best. It can also mean harmony. Or a circle, unbroken, strong. It can even mean the ocean. When you put ki on the end, it means bright one. Or... a singular hope. Something wonderful. Ki can mean radiance, or strength, or something rare and precious. The way it's written in kanji is important. They chose the kanji that means brightly shining one. They chose his middle names the same way. Very carefully. They had a name chosen for me, too, when they thought I was going to be a boy." She takes a breath in through her nose, blows it out through pursed lips. "But then I was born a girl, and they didn't know what to call me. So they told my mother she could choose. Her first name is Hanako. Hana means flower, and Cho means butterfly... so we're a flower and a butterfly." She smiles a little. "I know it's just a silly joke, but I like it."

And now he knows about her name, too. It can't touch the pain he's felt, and she knows that, but now he has something of hers, the way he's been trusting her with all these little pieces of himself.

[benhargreeves]

He doesn't know why it hurts so much, Cho fussing over him, calling him good and kind and saying he deserves good things, saying that he is definitely Ben and not any of those other names. But it does hurt. His throat is too tight to speak and thank her, so he tries to do it with a look, with a very small and grateful nod.

Ben watches as Cho seems to be making some kind of decision, and is about to ask what's wrong when she starts talking about her brother's name, all the care that was put into choosing it. He listens quietly, reading between the lines. Remembering the emotional history. This is the brother they'd turned against her, the one she's lost touch with.

And it's so clear, from the contrast how much less her family had cared about her, the moment she was born a girl. Ben thinks back to how impassioned she'd been, about how it wasn't a baby's fault, being born the way it was. Some pieces click into place, in his brain. Her family had valued her less, because she was a girl - which, from Ben's point of view, is pretty fucking stupid. But it had clearly been a huge factor in how she was treated.

"I think Cho's a gorgeous name."

He gets more adamant after that, sitting up straighter.

"And I bet... biologically, butterflies must be fascinating, right? I know they're not marine and that's your thing, but they seem pretty badass, to me. Plus butterflies are everywhere. I bet a ton of different cultures have cool myths involving butterflies and meanings they associate with them. Shit that's just as cool as harmony and brightness and all that."

[tenuefarfalla]

She laughs, bright and happy, when he says it's a gorgeous name. He's just so very serious about it. She's had people call her gorgeous before. She knows that being attractive is pretty much the least important thing a person can have going for them, but she's also not unaware of what she looks like. She doesn't think it makes her better than anyone, the way her family always has, but she does know that she's beautiful by most standards.

Her name, though, is a first. It's been called cute a few times before, but she thinks that Ben is entirely serious, and more than that, she thinks that he might think it's gorgeous because it's hers, because he likes her. It really doesn't get any better than that, does it? A friend who thinks that something simply being yours makes it better.

"I think they're pretty neat - I mean, they're these delicate fragile little things, but they're so important. You couldn't have any sort of real bountiful plant life without pollination, and you can't have pollination without pollinators. And they go through this amazing metamorphosis, they don't just grow up, they become what they're meant to be. They fight for it. Do you-- I mean, is this too much? Or-- do you already know about butterflies and their cocoons?"