redshiftlogs | persona non grata. [OPEN]

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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!

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.]

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Tripod proves himself to be no exception. After a few cautious steps forward, the cat leans against the offered hand to catch a few whiffs, his spindly tail swishing behind him.

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.

"Tripod? That makes sense," he agrees. His fingers find the best scritching spots effortlessly. "She is your human but she doesn't know that? That happens sometimes. It's okay, people forget me all the time."

He looks at the mortal finally. "His name is Tripod and he's very put out that you don't remember that."

He's talking to the cat like it answers back. If that was possible, Rey's pretty sure she'd have heard it sooner. Or maybe this guy is just one of those types of people.

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.

Cole looks at her. He's not a handsome young man, but there's a brightness to him, from his pale eyes to his full, pink mouth. "Because he knows it and it upsets him." He strokes along Tripod's neck and spine. "I'm Cole. You're Rey. But not the Rey that he knew, or they knew."

Okay, seems like he's being serious -- this Cole. Rey stares a moment, trying to gauge what his deal is.

"Didn't seem all that upset before."

Well, it's even more difficult for Rey to understand what an animal is trying to communicate with her than a person. Tripod (if that's what it's really called) gives her pretty solid signals; she just doesn't know how the hell she's supposed to reciprocate them.

Her eyes narrow when Cole also knows her name... and yet she doesn't recall ever meeting this guy before. "You're not one of those people who come from some other place where they think we know each other, are you?"

"He is. He'd rather you didn't ignore him or try to pretend he wasn't there. You might not know him, but he knows you and he doesn't understand why you don't love him anymore."

Cole is blunt as ever. Tripod hurts, so Cole hurts on his behalf.

"No. We've never met before. I always know people's names when I meet them."

His attention has gone back to the cat, though.

Oh shit, is this guy chastising her over the cat now? Rey isn't sure what to say at first. There's obviously something weird going on here; he knows too much about her. Fortunately, that must mean that what she says about the cat is probably true, right?

But that also means... what he says about the cat might be true.

"Not... really a pet person?"

It's not a question, but the tilt in her voice sounds quizzical. Unlike Cole, animals didn't gravitate towards Rey. She's never owned one to know how well she'd do with the task. It's a responsibility, having a life in your hands. And that's scary.

She hesitates, soaking in what he also said, and guilt mixes in there. "And you know the cat's name. Real name. You didn't just make that up."

Because it's so obvious. Look, it even has three legs.

Cole sits down to let Tripod explore him at will, fingers still stroking gently over the poor battered creature.

"No. Why would I make a name when he just told me? That's silly." He tilts his head up to look past the brim of his hat. "You don't need to be a pet person. You're Tripod's person, even if you're a different version of her."

"That-- Okay."

Translation: Is it any sillier than always knowing people's names? Never mind, I give up.

Tripod seems to be enjoying himself, though. Relishing in the attention that Rey hasn't been providing. In his bliss, some vaguely green drool dribbles out the side of his mouth. Rey just squints an eye at the scene.

"Right. Adds up with the stuff others have said." Which wasn't much, but it's enough for Rey to put the pieces together. "So what's the deal with you, just knowing shit?"

Cole doesn't seem to notice or care about the drool. His general state suggests that dirt and filth doesn't worry him.

"I'm a spirit. Compassion. I feel what mortals feel, hear what their soul says and experiences."

Oof, that hits, and hard. Rey can't help but bring a hand instinctively to her chest, over the scar that's underneath bearing evidence of the things that the synthetics wanted most from her.

Her beating heart. Though it's less a heart and more of a device or machine, like a lot of her is, underneath the skin and blood and organs. The whole concept of a synthetic soul seemed like psychotic nonsense coming from IV, but the rules are different now. And she's not sure how to feel about that.

"Ah," is all Rey can choke out at first. She's done good at keeping that layer of robotic stoicism for a while, but already the mask is slipping. "You feel things. Even from animals and things that aren't people?"

Because she's never thought of herself as a person. Always been a thing. A tool. A scapegoat. Being more like-human just complicates things.

"Mortals," Cole agrees. "Some times, people who are made from other things have spirits and souls just like other mortals. And places carry memories of what happened inside them, great loves and terrible horrors staining and seeping, sinking silently into stones."

His fingertip rubs the top of Tripod's head. "I don't really understand what was done to you, but I know it hurts. I know that what happened was their fault, not yours. You didn't deserve to be treated like that. And you are allowed to be loved, even if love is a three legged cat."

It's odd to be referred to as 'mortal'. Sure, Rey might have died several times over the last century, but would you call ghosts in a machine even alive? Debatable philosophies like that was always easier for her to take with a grain of salt and not dwell on.

Rey leans back a moment, studying the so-called spirit. Compassion, was it? Unless there were a place where someone could dig up that level of detail about people here, she can't imagine how else he could have known.

Whatever it is, it hits. She falls so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Or Tripod's softest of purrs underneath an attentive touch.

"Why me?" Rey finally says, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Why should someone else's responsibility become mine, just because someone else remembers?"

The same could be said for the many burdens Rey carries from her old selves, most of who were not aware of their own truths, believing themselves to be human with terrible pasts of their own. Yet their mistakes and faults weighed down on her the day she began to carry their memories.

Well, shit.

Cole doesn't look at her for a bit, focusing on Tripod. Finally he looks up again, meeting her gaze if she's looking. "Love isn't a responsibility. I can't make you care, or make you want to try. You have free will and free emotions. But you can't explain that to him. I can't explain it to him. He can't understand. He's a cat."

Or close enough to one.

"But if a you did love him, that means a you could love him and I don't know why you wouldn't want to love if you can. Make something else loved, cared for, make its life better."

He's got a point. She knows he does, hard that it might be to come to terms with. Love is... complicated. Always seemed that those that she cares for ends up getting hurt in the end.

You always hurt the ones you love.

That's just the way the song goes...

"That's a compelling argument," Rey finally says with some hint of levity in her voice as Tripod chirrups. He might not understand, but he senses something shift. Just a few more cuddles before he returns, coiling around her ankles in a figure eight motion.

"People are always hurt. That doesn't make loving them not worth it. Without the good bits, there's no real point in continuing. Life has to be good and bad and pleasure and pain and everything between. Sometimes it's unfair. But imagine never loving someone and losing them and all you missed out on."

His sister died. But not having had her would have been worse.

"That's... not at all that hard to imagine."

Which has always made new experiences difficult. Being around for so long, having seen so many people come and go, live and die, seeing the people who've cared about her get burned in the end? Avoiding connections always seemed like a mercy than anything.

Doesn't stave off the loneliness, though. She would have either still been dead or insane if not for her brother, and the things he said and did helped her move along even in his absence.

Rey arches a brow at Cole. "You do this often? Just poof somewhere and talk about feelings and shit?" He did say he was a spirit of compassion, so...

Cole hums and nods.

"There was a wolf who was like you. He lived and mortals died and he lived and they built cities and he lived and those cities fell and he lived and he hid in his head to make it stop hurting so much.

"He regretted it. But he never learned to open himself up again. You still can. And yes, I do. I'm Compassion."

"Ah." That's all Rey can say at first, because... shit, what are you supposed to say to that? This guy doesn't know her but at the same time sort of does. It's not like she goes out of her way to keep her secrets, but this is something else entirely. Her mouth tightens into a thin line before she speaks again. "That's, um. Some vote of confidence there." (Not something she's used to people having in her.)

Now that she thinks about it, what would living as something that embodies the force of compassion be like? An existence like that would drive just about anyone out of their damn minds.

She's ripped back out of her thoughts when Tripod bumps his head against her hand again, a rumbling noise coming from the back of his throat. The action startles her at first, but she does her best to mimic Cole's petting gesture from earlier.

"Know what? Fine. Going to give this little bastard a chance."

Edited 2019-11-22 10:37 (UTC)

"It's not a vote. It's just a statement." Cole is confused by the idea that it was somehow a vote.

But then he smiles softly. "Good. You can make each other happier than you are now. And that's important."

"That's not--" Sigh. "Never mind."

Something tells her that trying to explain it to him would just end up being a waste of time.

Besides, Tripod seems content with what little Rey can provide. He guides her towards spots like behind his large ear to under his thin, wrinkly chin. It helps. "Can't say the company isn't appreciated. Hadn't been able to have a consistent conversation with a person for more than a few hours every week or so, anyway."

Spending days without talking to a single person can't be healthy, but it was life or death in Concordia. And it wasn't like Rey was very social before that, either.

"People need other people. Not all the time. But you're social, you need that connection with other creatures. Tripod is a creature."

Cole nods firmly. "You'll be good for each other."

Rey hasn't always been social, but even she has experienced the harm that isolation does to her. Most people aren't meant to live in total solitude, not really. Even things such as herself, which aren't real people.

"If you say so." Rey waves a dismissive hand and huffs. "And, um. Thanks, or something."

Tripod makes an appreciative little chirrup under Rey's hand.

Cole unfolds himself from the floor, revealing he's a fairly tall and gangly young man. "No, not because I say so. It just is. I'm going to go find Ben now."

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