【Rey】 (
circumitus) wrote in
redshiftlogs2019-10-20 12:47 am
persona non grata. [OPEN]
WHO: Rey and you!
WHAT: After keeping her distance for a while, Rey runs into the inevitable -- other people. And also an obsessive mutant cat that seems to follow her wherever she goes.
WHERE: All over Anchor.
WHEN: Month of October.
NOTES: I have a strong preference towards prose but I can handle brackets as well!
WHAT: After keeping her distance for a while, Rey runs into the inevitable -- other people. And also an obsessive mutant cat that seems to follow her wherever she goes.
WHERE: All over Anchor.
WHEN: Month of October.
NOTES: I have a strong preference towards prose but I can handle brackets as well!
i. Bar;
There were periods in which Rey would spend days without seeing or communicating with another person. An unhealthy habit for sure, but it was something she had become used to during her period in the sky prison, carefully evading the synthetic wards among the labyrinthine corridors and inner tunnels and pipes. For someone as heavy and lumbering as Rey, she was surprisingly agile and stealthy. It also helped that she had plenty of experience in knowing where to go and how to avoid being seen.
Right now she's not spending much effort in doing so. After all, she's found that this isn't in fact the sky prison. There's no IV or synthetic sentry in sight, as far as she can tell. If there were... Well, she would just have to deal with them as they came.
Today, she just wants a drink or twenty. Except every time she orders, the fucking robot bartender gets her order wrong. And it couldn't have possibly gotten her order more wrong if it threw its memory core through a trash compactor where it belonged.
"Useless heap of fuck-metal shit," Rey seethes as she tosses the tequila sunrise aside. "Don't you know how to-- AUGH."
Luckily, she's not too drunk to avoid ducking in time as another tequila sunrise goes sailing over her head, intended for her face. The glass shatters against the wall, spilling liquor across the floor and then some.
Hissing between her teeth, Rey straightens herself immediately, fingers balled into fists as her eyes widen at the robot. "You motherfucker, you planned that, didn't you!"
Honestly, you just can't trust robots. None of them.
ii. Mess Hall;
Much like her social habits, eating is something Rey has been putting off for a while. There's plenty of water and booze at the bar, but you can only go on for so long on a liquid diet before the body starts to crave for something more.
Rey, on the other hand, could stave off those urges for months if she had to. If she had to being the key phrase here. Once it became glaringly obvious that she doesn't have to starve herself in order to evade whatever authority or presence here, or if it even matters to do so at all, she finally takes the risk to venture deeper into the depths of the city for something more than just scouting the vicinity. She could survive without food and water longer than a human, but that doesn't mean the urge doesn't creep up on her after a few weeks. Then, once again, it's about survival rather than obstinacy and pride.
Upon arriving there, however, she's not quite sure what to do with herself anymore. She's never cooked before, at least never any complicated meals that didn't come already prepped out of a can. She grimaces at the pre-made options, most which look to be well passed their expiration.
"Wehhhh," comes a whiny voice at her heel.
Rey looks down to see the same one-eyed tripedal feline bumping its head against her knee. It's been following her after she ran into some other weirdo at the bar, and she hasn't been able to shake the thing ever since. It doesn't take an animal person to assume what it probably wants, though. "Guess you must be hungry, huh?"
Naturally, the cat doesn't answer, though you never know. The last saptient being pretending to be just another animal turned out to be pretty wordy in the end.
No such luck this time. Just another flat "weehhh" as the feline sits on its hindquarters to paw at her with its one front paw. Chances are more likely that it's trying to urge her to care for herself first, but hell if Rey is going to take that hint.
iii. Bottom Levels;
Despite a perfectly functional barracks in the upper floors, Rey doesn't make herself known there. Being in places where people can expect to find her, where she can be easily tracked, is not something she is accustomed to. It's better to make herself scarce wherever possible. Don't get comfortable. Keep moving. No use in getting attached to whatever lifestyle they're expected to have here. And she refuses to become a complacent little hamster in a cage. No, that's not her. She won't let it happen; not if she has a say in the matter.
What few hours of sleep she allows herself ends up being in the most awkward places. Sometimes she can be found at the plaza or park, eyes mostly closed, only peering through slits as she stands in the middle of a walkway or shoulder leaning against a wall -- quietly snoring and drooling a little out the corner of her mouth until she's nudged awake by a concerned or amused passersby.
Other times she is pouring over what remains of the library, though barely able to keep herself cognizant of the words in front of her before nodding off at a desk. From time to time she'll jolt herself awake, slamming her forehead against the tabletop.
That damned cat might be accompanying her again, pawing and nudging at her as if trying to communicate some message that she refuses to diciper. Honestly, she figured that it would have moved on by now once it realized she had nothing special to offer it, but no matter what she does the animal always seems to find its way back to her. It would be annoying if it didn't also didn't help keep her awake at the same time. Small miracles, indeed.
iv; Wildcard
[ooc: Have something else in mind you'd like to do with Rey, or none of the above suit your fancy? Make your own or hit me up! Also feel free to check out my CR meme comment for info/ideas.]

BAR
The bar isn't really Peter's favorite hang zone, but after a long and unexpectedly emotional chat with Qubit about the benefits of sitting the fuck down for five minutes, he's looking for ways to unwind. Just get his relax on, all that good shit. So he rolls in with a tool box, because finally fixing tequila sunrise-bot sounds relaxing to him, but of course he has to save it from being pummeled by an angry bar patron first. Ah well, this is fine.
He pauses mid-step though as soon as he realizes that he totally recognizes this lady. She wasn't someone he'd spoken too very often, but he was sure he knew her from Hadriel. He points at her in that AH-HAH I KNOW YOU sort of way, "wait, it- it's Rey, right?"
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She then pauses when he belts out her name, though. It isn't the first time Rey has been recognized by someone she doesn't quite remember, but which version of her past selves could he have known?
This time, she turns towards him, expression forced neutral. Any concern of the robot is quickly forgotten.
"Depends on who's asking. Is it just 'Rey' you know? No last name?"
Or is it one of her past selves? She gets those memories mixed up sometimes. While she might be wearing Schuyler's dogtags around her neck, it's not... really her, at the end of the day. Just someone else's identity that she had slipped on and conveniently wore for a time.
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Huh, that's a little odd, she doesn't seem to recognize him at all. Then again, they hadn't really hung out at all. He'd seen her in the Speakeasy a few times, he was pretty sure he'd seen her during the Null battle doing battle stuff. Maybe his face just wasn't that memorable? There had kind of been a lot going on, so it was entirely possible.
"Um, I-I'm Peter Parker? We were in Hadriel together. I think you ran the bar, you had a weird cat...?" Ringing any bells there, Rey?
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Well that's uncomfortable.
"Weird cat? Is that why that little shit has been so persistent...?" She doesn't regard Peter with any hint of recognition, but at least the cat that's been following her around ever since it found her might finally have a story to it. "Someone else mentioned something about running a bar. Didn't mention a 'Hadriel', though."
And Rey sure as hell was never any bartender in her previous lives. She's pretty sure she would remember that little detail.
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"I um. I think it was your pet? And to be fair, sometimes you looked more like you'd rather be fist fighting a bear than running a bar." He didn't know a ton about her but she could probably totally beat the shit out of that bear.
"Honestly there are parts of Hadriel that I wish I could forget. Um, who else have you talked to about it? Just, out of curiosity."
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She draws in a sharp breath as she brings a hand to her face, brows pinched together. Between this and the damned robot that just tried to chuck tequila in her face, she's way too spent to overreact at this point.
"No one, really? This guy left a fucked up cat behind, saying a speaker told him it belongs to 'someone who runs a bar' -- and not much else." If she had spoken with anyone else who knew her, they didn't let on. "Judging by what you just said, take it there are... others, from that place?"
Should she be expecting more of this kind of reaction?
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iii. Library
As it turns out, there is someone there who fits all three of those descriptors: a slightly glowing, three-legged, cyclopean cat peers out at her from the shelf as she removes one of the books. She lets out a quiet Oh!, covering her mouth afterwards. It's impolite to be loud in a library.
"Hello there," she whispers with a smile. "And who are you?"
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Now that he's had his share of socializing with strangers, he entwines himself around the legs of a snoozing Rey. Cheek resting under a lazy palm with her elbow propped on the desk. Her mouth hangs slightly agape as she lingers between lucidity and sleep.
Despite this, Tripod makes himself comfortable between her ankles, watching the stranger with a single wary eye.
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No wait, not new. Familiar. It's the upright who bandaged her wounds her in the baths, the one who had only seen her in her natural form. A little gruff, but a kind upright nonetheless. She could make a second introduction, perhaps do it right this time. She'd had some practice now, after all.
She slowly makes her way toward the table, only to realize the upright is asleep -- dozing, as it is called. How cute. She gets close to the table before clearing her throat, hoping to stir the upright without embarrassing her.
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The cat's persistent pawing helps, too. Her head snaps out of her hand by the time her eyes are opened, and then blink at the catching stranger.
...Actually no, she's seen this person before, too. Not in person, but the ears and bright hair is hard to miss, especially after Rey had made a rather crude comment about that. Shit, shit shit shit--
"Shit," Rey hisses aloud, now setting the mutant cat at her feet on edge as well.
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"Oh, pardon!" Whoops, that was a bit loud. Elleru lowers her voice, remembering her library etiquette. "Er, pardon. I did not mean to startle you, but is he yours?"
Her eyes flick below the table to Tripod and back, a hopeful smile on her face as she brushes a piece of hair behind one of her long, pointed ears.
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Park
He has too many instincts developed over too many years of watching the Hunger Games as closely as a mentor does to leave her be; sleeping alone out in the open like that is vulnerable. True, there's not as much immediate danger in this place as there is in the arena, but he wouldn't let his guard down so completely here.
It makes him nervous.
He knows better than to wake a stranger by shaking her, so instead, he picks up a rock and tosses it near her, to see if the sound and movement will be enough to wake her.
It would wake most victors he knows, but most people aren't victors.
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Sucking in a sharp breath, Rey's senses come to all at once. Much like when she was hiding in the pipes and walls of the sky prison, she's ready to fight and kill whatever is coming at her, whatever is foolish enough to think that they could ambush her...
But it's nothing. Her gaze turns towards the source of the noise, finding it leads to a man standing nearby.
Hands now in fists, a baffled "What?" is all that chokes out in her bleary haze of sleep deprivation, made obvious by the dark rings around her eyes and sallow complexion.
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He knows how to appear non-threatening, for all he's holding a weapon and a net. He's tall and muscular, but he adjusts his posture, rounding his shoulders slightly in a well-practiced motion that makes him look not quite so tall, not quite so physically capable.
He holds up a hand, palm-out in what he hopes is a pacifying gesture.
"Thought you might not want to still be out here when people start coming through."
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Wait. Was she vulnerable? Did she fall asleep while standing again? As she feels the immediate tension melt from her posture, her shoulders remain rigid enough as she drops her face into her hand. She might have taken her gaze off the young man for now, but her other senses are spiking; she can sense there's no one around. This isn't an ambush.
Is that what she dreamt about? Why was she still on her feet?
It takes her another moment to realize that she still hasn't responded to the words spoken to her. Ah. That's rude, isn't it?
"Right. Apologies." The words come out robotic-sounding. Each syllable like clockwork as she mutters under her breath, more to herself this time: "This is... still that place. Been walking around for a month now. Maybe more? Shit, shiiiiit."
the messiest of halls
She's dressed more on the practical side today, in a plain black t-shirt and shorts and hiking boots, and her hands and knees are smudged with dirt and grass stains - as is her nose, somehow. But she's still got the black eyeshadow and lipstick going on, which in hindsight was probably not the best choice for farm work, but you're not her mom, shut up.
Initially she's humming to herself, but she stops short (along with the cart) when she realizes there's a person that she was a few feet from running into. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't see you there."
She hasn't seen this lady before, though - she definitely would've remembered if she had. Heckin' buff with cool scars for days. Dang, this is a lady who could probably snap Ami in half over her knee and look awesome doing it! ... which is, uh, kind of a weird and morbid thing to think so enthusiastically? Maybe let's not read too much into that.
Anyway! New! That means it's time for Welcome Wagon mode.
"We haven't met before, have we?" she says, setting the cart aside and circling out from behind it. "I'm Ami. Welcome to Anchor!"
Re: the messiest of halls
That happens sometimes; she doesn't question it. It's not like she's ever owned any pets before to recognize what's normal behavior or what they're trying to communicate. Maybe the animal finally wisened up and sought companionship with someone more appropriate than a wandering defect.
Unlikely, but she can throw a few guesses.
Rey's thoughts are forced back into the present when she finds herself retreating a few steps away from the bath of an absentmindedly moving cart and the girl pushing it. She just stares at first -- eyes, underlined by dark rings, darting from the cart of food to the teenager introducing herself.
If nothing else, Ami doesn't act like someone who already knows Rey. Not yet, anyway.
Her gaze holds another moment, mute as she just takes another cautious step back, more defensive than aggressive for now.
"Ah, thanks...? Name's Rey," she chokes out, awkward both in her delivery and robotic cadence. "You work in here?"
At any rate, she'd probably trust a kid's cooking over a robot's.
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"Sort of? I mean, it's not like a formal job or anything," she explains. "But I do help Cho clean up after mealtimes, yes. A bunch of people do, so it goes pretty quick." Then she has a thought that makes her chuckle. "You know, it's funny - normally when I run into somebody new, I start by showing them where the food is. But apparently you have beaten me to it!"
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"Eh, yeah." Rey strains her mouth to force a toothy, lopsided grin. Or what's supposed to be one, as it's more apparent that she hasn't made much use of her facial muscles recently. "Just took about a month to get to it..."
It's not like she hadn't eaten anything at all in that time; food and sleep just weren't high priorities until she realized it was going to be a problem soon. Oops.
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Because if not, how are you not dead? How are you not a skeleton right now, ma'am? Does she need a doctor? Shit, we don't have a real doctor, do we.
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Library
He's carefully putting a small pile of rubble back into a wall, piece by piece, when he notices the cat. Not the person, that doesn't register at first, but animals often notice him.
"Hello. Is that your human? What's your name? I'm Cole." He holds out a hand to be sniffed. Animals not only notice him. Animals instinctively like him.
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Rey's sitting at a table nearby, her fatigue snapping away when she hears a voice -- but not speaking to her. She blinks, surprised to see that the cat has taken an interest in the stranger.
"Doesn't... really have a name," Rey answers, even though the young man clearly wasn't speaking to her.
Tripod would beg to differ, but no one else seems to know that.
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He looks at the mortal finally. "His name is Tripod and he's very put out that you don't remember that."
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Either way, Tripod doesn't seem to mind, and takes advantage of Cole's attention. Even giving him a consolatory bump with his head against the outstretched hand. Purrs come out in an uneven rattle.
Rey just balks at the scene.
"Um. Sorry?" Whether she's saying that to Cole or the cat (or both?) is hard to say. She cants her head, glancing between the two. "How the hell do you know that?"
Even the people here who seemed to remember Rey didn't really know.
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