eudorapatch (
eudorapatch) wrote in
redshiftlogs2019-07-15 05:01 pm
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to protect and serve
WHO: Detective Eudora Patch
WHAT: the face-to-face option for her network post, looking for clothes and ammo and other necessities, learning her environment by hitting thestreets walkways
WHEN: whole month of July for most of it, though an immediate response to her network post would happen on the 15th, and a belated response can happen any time after that
WHERE: room 020, but also kind of everywhere?
WARNINGS: anything in response to her network post may contain detailed and blunt discussions of violence/death/dying - anything at all with her runs a small risk of her at least thinking about her own death. if this will upset you, please tell me so before we begin so that i can avoid it.
NOTES: I don't like brackets/action-spam. It's not natural for me to write that way, and I much prefer prose. I can read it just fine (but please don't make your bracket text super tiny) and don't mind if styles don't match. So you're welcome to tag me in action-spam, but just be prepared for my responses to come back in prose.
option A
After Patch makes her post to the network, she feels an odd moment of disconnect. What if no one responds? What if she is the only one feeling overwhelmed and out of her depth? What if she just aired her trauma, and she's the only one going through it?
Well, if she did, then she did. Can't change it, and wouldn't even if she could. Because she might not be alone. It might help someone else. Which makes it worth it.
She goes to the door of her room, unlocks it, opens it. It closes again on its own. Right. She opens it again, waits for it to try and close, and sticks her hand in the way. She's prepared to yank it back quickly, lest she lose some fingers, but the door halts its progress, presumably in response to whatever is blocking it. That'll work. She comes up with a little squat metal container that used to hold something, but now is only home to a vaguely musty smell. With that placed along the recessed metal track, it leaves the door to room 020 open about a foot, unable to lock, and accessible to anyone walking past.
option B
She doesn't have much. The clothes on her back, main weapon, ankle weapon, and a few extra clips of ammunition. Plus the junk from her pockets. Never thought she'd see the day when taking stock of her possessions would include a mental tally of 'eight mint lifesavers' but the universe seems determined to keep tossing up hurdles in her path. Well, bring it on. High school track about to pay off in a big way. Metaphorically. She checks her weapons, tightens her ponytail, and runs her fingers over the gentle ridges and valleys of her badge where it's resting under her shirt, like a talisman. Time to go learn her new neighbourhood.
option C
Also time to go shopping. If you can call it that. Some extra clothing would be a good start. Boots, jeans, and jacket she can make do. But a spare shirt, a change of underwear, and something to sleep in, that would be nice. Toothbrush, hair brush, maybe a book. Anything to keep her occupied.
option !
Wildcard! You know how this works. Come at me, bro! :3
15 July
afternoon - Ben comes to talk about how he knows Patch - room 020
also afternoon - Drake stops by for more cheery death talk - room 020
late evening - Cole waits until everyone else has come and gone - room 020
16 July
afternoon - finding out just what a tiny thing Peter is - R & D
WHAT: the face-to-face option for her network post, looking for clothes and ammo and other necessities, learning her environment by hitting the
WHEN: whole month of July for most of it, though an immediate response to her network post would happen on the 15th, and a belated response can happen any time after that
WHERE: room 020, but also kind of everywhere?
WARNINGS: anything in response to her network post may contain detailed and blunt discussions of violence/death/dying - anything at all with her runs a small risk of her at least thinking about her own death. if this will upset you, please tell me so before we begin so that i can avoid it.
NOTES: I don't like brackets/action-spam. It's not natural for me to write that way, and I much prefer prose. I can read it just fine (but please don't make your bracket text super tiny) and don't mind if styles don't match. So you're welcome to tag me in action-spam, but just be prepared for my responses to come back in prose.
option A
After Patch makes her post to the network, she feels an odd moment of disconnect. What if no one responds? What if she is the only one feeling overwhelmed and out of her depth? What if she just aired her trauma, and she's the only one going through it?
Well, if she did, then she did. Can't change it, and wouldn't even if she could. Because she might not be alone. It might help someone else. Which makes it worth it.
She goes to the door of her room, unlocks it, opens it. It closes again on its own. Right. She opens it again, waits for it to try and close, and sticks her hand in the way. She's prepared to yank it back quickly, lest she lose some fingers, but the door halts its progress, presumably in response to whatever is blocking it. That'll work. She comes up with a little squat metal container that used to hold something, but now is only home to a vaguely musty smell. With that placed along the recessed metal track, it leaves the door to room 020 open about a foot, unable to lock, and accessible to anyone walking past.
option B
She doesn't have much. The clothes on her back, main weapon, ankle weapon, and a few extra clips of ammunition. Plus the junk from her pockets. Never thought she'd see the day when taking stock of her possessions would include a mental tally of 'eight mint lifesavers' but the universe seems determined to keep tossing up hurdles in her path. Well, bring it on. High school track about to pay off in a big way. Metaphorically. She checks her weapons, tightens her ponytail, and runs her fingers over the gentle ridges and valleys of her badge where it's resting under her shirt, like a talisman. Time to go learn her new neighbourhood.
option C
Also time to go shopping. If you can call it that. Some extra clothing would be a good start. Boots, jeans, and jacket she can make do. But a spare shirt, a change of underwear, and something to sleep in, that would be nice. Toothbrush, hair brush, maybe a book. Anything to keep her occupied.
option !
Wildcard! You know how this works. Come at me, bro! :3
15 July
afternoon - Ben comes to talk about how he knows Patch - room 020
also afternoon - Drake stops by for more cheery death talk - room 020
late evening - Cole waits until everyone else has come and gone - room 020
16 July
afternoon - finding out just what a tiny thing Peter is - R & D
no subject
This conversation is not going in the way he expected at all, and Ben hadn't really braced himself for anything this metaphysical. Still, he can see that Patch is grappling with a lot of Big Questions and he rushes to clarify a few things, lest she get the wrong idea.
"Detective Patch, I get it if you don't want to... walk down those avenues, but honestly, I don't feel like me being around invalidates any way of thinking about life and death or- if you were maybe religious, or stuff like that. Other than... if you were thinking death was the absolute end, do not pass go, no such thing as the afterlife. In which case, yeah, that one's off the table. But everything else, it's just - a couple new questions, maybe some different questions. Nothing all that drastic."
Ben really does believe that's true. His face is earnest and a little concerned, now, and he laces his hands together in his lap. He thinks about saying something about how he and his siblings were already breaking all the previous rules about life and death, what with the spontaneous fatherless births and all, but he changes his mind. That would probably only be stirring things up and making them worse. Best to leave it be unless she asks anything else.
Her reasons for not letting herself get the benefit of talking about stuff are... to be honest, not great, to Ben's mind. A little furrow forms between his dark brows.
"Well. The way I see it, you've got some options. You can decide not talk to me, because you realized you don't want to, and that's cool. You can decide to talk to me, and that it's none of Diego's business, and that's fine, too. I appreciate what you're saying, but I'm comfortable with keeping things from Diego. You won't be driving a wedge, or anything. Or, option three is, you can decide to talk to me, and then tell me what is and isn't okay to pass along to Diego, if that would be easier for you."
Ben's head tilts to the side a little. All these years of trying to coach Klaus into better life choices has left him with an inclination towards giving advice, whether or not someone has asked for it. It's also left him primed to see avoidance, and he's wondering if Patch is a self-abnegating saint, or if she is maybe using Diego's fragility as an excuse to avoid confronting her death. Either option is a little concerning.
"Mostly, I kinda hope you'll make that call based on your needs, and not only on Digeo's hypothetical feelings."
And then, because he doesn't want Patch feeling pressured into giving an answer right away (hopefully she'll think it over and consider herself a little bit more in the process), he goes on immediately to ask:
"I'm guessing nobody's... talked to you about who it was that killed you, and what they were doing, and the whole story. If... you'd like some context, I could tell you?"
no subject
"My death..." Still such a trippy thing to say out loud. "Well, I know there had to be at least two of them, and whoever was behind me was quiet." She's speaking slowly, because she's deciding. Does she want to know? Will it bring her closure? Will it just twist her up more inside? Thing it, she has no way of knowing until he tells her, and once he does, it can't be taken back.
So the real question is: does she want her blissful ignorance? The answer to that question has never been yes. Not once, in her entire life. Even when knowledge is pain, she's always wanted to know. Which means she does now, too. "What happened? How did I die? I mean--" She sighs. "I know how." She taps two fingers over her sternum. Obviously she knows what physically killed her. "Why did I die?" That's what she doesn't know.
no subject
He doesn't rush her as she makes her decision, waiting until she has found the right question to ask, and asks it, meets his eyes. The answer for why she died is, of course, because life is unfair, and violent, and things just happen randomly and they are awful and good people, innocent people, have the rest of their lives snatched away without warning all the time. But that's not the sort of why she means, and he knows it.
"It's a long story, so I'm going to try to condense it. Just bear with me."
After her reaction to just the information that ghosts are a thing, Ben is going to avoid the whole 'by the way the apocalypse happens a few days after you die' bombshell. Not that he's going to lie, but there is a way to tell all this that doesn't get into that. That would be a huge distraction, and likely an upsetting one. He's going to stick to Eudora's place in all this.
"You know that Five went missing, when we were kids?" A quick glance tells him she does, so he goes on, "I'm not gonna get into most of it, but he ended up working for this organization, that uses time travel to ensure that history goes a certain way - the way they want it. And they do whatever it takes to make that happen. The people who took Klaus, who killed you... they work for that same group. See, they hired Five, but he wasn't into their bullshit, and he just used them to find a way home. They were pissed, so they hired a bunch of thugs to come get him."
Ben had had some of these gaps filled in as Klaus was being tortured, other in the subsequent days overhearing conversations between his brothers. It is good, to be able to provide some clarity, even if it doesn't really make the whole situation any less messy and unfair and horrific.
"Five fought those guys off at this old donut shop we used to go to as kids, so the organization sent some of their own skilled assassins the next time. Hazel, and Cha Cha. I don't know their deal. I just know they- they showed up to our house and when they saw Five wasn't there, they kidnapped Klaus. They were trying to get him to tell them where Five was. Torturing him and stuff. And... they wanted him as bait. I guess they left cryptic messages around or something, hoping Five would find them and come rushing to that motel. But he didn't show up."
The barest hint of bitterness creeps into his voice then, but he doesn't tell Patch that Five had been drunk in a library, totally checked out of his family's safety. That little shard of anger is Ben's own business, and not completely relevant to her death.
"I don't know how you found us, but it was a trap. The trap was meant for Five, but- but you ended up in it. So it was always going to be an ambush. They were ready to kill whoever turned up to help Klaus, without hesitation."
no subject
Klaus was bait. Bait for Five. She walked into a trap, with Klaus as live bait. Which means...
"He would have been fine."
She drops her head. She can't look at Ben.
"If I'd done what I was supposed to do, gotten the warrant, called in for backup. I went charging in because I thought he didn't have time, but... he was bait. He would have been fine. Later that night, later that week. You don't kill your leverage. You don't kill the hostage. I saved him some pain. I didn't save his life." She'd wasted her life, thrown it away. Not saving someone, that wouldn't have been a waste. Giving her life for someone who would have been just fine if she'd waited, though? Yeah. This is what she gets for breaking her own rules, for thinking that Diego's vigilante make believe was a good idea.
She takes a shaking breath, but she can't look at him. If she actually makes eye contact, she's afraid she'll cry.
"I think you should probably go. I'm sorry. Don't-- tell your brother. Either of them. Don't tell them I died for nothing." Diego must know. Maybe that's why he was looking at her that way, when he first saw her. Because he knew. But maybe Klaus doesn't. "He shouldn't have to carry that."
no subject
There is a time and a place for considering the variety of ways that things could have gone down, but Ben can tell this isn't one of them. Patch isn't looking at him, and she sounds so distraught. And given what she's thinking, he doesn't blame her for that. So he gives answers that are more certain-sounding than is perhaps statistically entirely true. But he believes what he's saying.
"Five wasn't coming." That anger is now both of their business, and Ben lets it show, "He was off somewhere getting drunk. He didn't even know Klaus was missing. Neither did Luther or Diego. They thought Five was the missing one. And- and you didn't hear the way Hazel and Cha-Cha were talking, okay. Klaus was pissing them off. They had a deadline they were trying to meet, they were already over schedule or whatever. Another hour, maybe less, they would've just shot him in the head and gone back to the drawing board."
Ben reaches out and holds Patch's upper arm - hard enough to be bracing but not painful. She might not be looking at him, but his tone of voice is firm and more passionate than it has been this whole time. He has to be able to get through to her. Somehow.
"And backup wouldn't have been better. Probably if a bunch of cop cars had shown up, if he'd made it that long, they would've killed Klaus then and run. Easier than trying to get away with him alive."
Ben's voice is a little throaty with emotion now, but he pushes on through.
"I died for nothing. Okay? So I know... how you must be feeling. But it wasn't like that. You saved someone, from torture, and captivity. It shouldn't have happened. You shouldn't have had that happen to you. But that's so not nothing."
no subject
She just nods. "Okay."
She doesn't believe him, but she can see that it's important to him. She can hear it in his voice and feel it in the grip of his fingers on her arm. He has a need to make her understand, and she doesn't, but they don't both have to deal with that. Whoever said misery loves company must have been an asshole, as far as Patch is concerned. When she's in pain, the last thing she's ever wanted to do is spread it around, hurt someone else just so she doesn't have to hurt alone. "You would know better than me. You saw everything I didn't."
She moves her hand on top of his, not to push him off, but to support his grip. It's fine. It's all fine. Even if she can't believe it, maybe he can.
no subject
An afterthought occurs to him and he adds, voice a little less grave now, "And I'm not gonna tell either of my brothers about anything we talk about, okay? I mean not unless you specifically want me to. That's just not how I roll. Even when I was a kid, I was the one the rest of them would confide in, with shit they couldn't talk to the others about, 'cause I don't gossip. Ever."
She ought to know that about him, now, before anything else. That discretion is something Ben values highly. He sighs, shoulders slumping slightly. He doesn't know if he's helped at all. He'd felt so empowered, after her message on the network. But being there for one another... maybe it's easier in theory than practice.
"Look I... can go if you want, but - are you sure you wanna be alone?"
He will go, if that's what she wants. Goodness knows, he is aware that sometimes it is best to be alone. But he wants to be sure she isn't just isolating herself for the wrong reasons.
"We don't have to keep talking. We could just - go for a walk. Or whatever."
no subject
Is he thinking the same thing? Is he imagining what she'll go through with the next person to come through that door if she's still in such rough shape? "Maybe that's... a good idea. Make myself move." Physically, emotionally, whatever works. She takes a deep breath and stands up with something approaching determination. A walk. That's it. It's with the same determination that she moves to put on her jacket.