CT (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tuskenlancer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lifeaftr2018-11-02 08:17 pm
tuskenlancer) wrote in lifeaftr2018-11-02 08:17 pm
November catchall
Who: CT and you!
What: Hanging around, trying to recall her lost memories...or maybe just enjoying life without them
When: Early to mid November
Where: Enso
Warnings: None!
CT followed a ghost off a cliff last month, with a result that honestly shouldn't surprise anyone. The gap in her memory became apparent pretty quickly, but although she knows she's missing a lot, try as she might, she hasn't even been able to remember so much as a second of it.
On the one hand, that sucks. She hates not knowing what had happened to her, hates how cryptic Wash has been about the whole thing, hates the fact that she can't even remember the man who urged her to her willing death. Helplessness has never sat well with her, but in this case, there doesn't seem much that she can do.
On the other hand, she's living without the burden of a lot of pain and horror and loss that's been weighing on her for months. Rather than mooning over her absent fiance and dreaming of the day she'll get back to him, she's actually enjoying life on the islands. It is, after all, the first real home she can remember having. Intermittent horrors and punishments for dying aside, it's actually pretty nice here. She lives with her friends on a tropical island, she has no worries and no responsibilities beyond figuring out what to eat and how to get Wash to wear actual clothes rather than his armor once in a while, and whenever she's able to forget that gaping hole in her memory, she's actually pretty content.
The recent renovations to the huts and cottages mean that she's no longer working just to get the roof patched up and the floor resembling, well, a floor. But that doesn't mean there's nothing to do. Today, she's hanging around the cottage that she shares with Carolina and Wash, opening the windows, occasionally sweeping out dust, and going in and out of the door, occasionally picking a few wildflowers in the grass outside to take back inside.
God help you, Freelancers, your roommate's being domestic.
(Feel free to use the prompt or your own, or hit me up for a closed starter!)
What: Hanging around, trying to recall her lost memories...or maybe just enjoying life without them
When: Early to mid November
Where: Enso
Warnings: None!
CT followed a ghost off a cliff last month, with a result that honestly shouldn't surprise anyone. The gap in her memory became apparent pretty quickly, but although she knows she's missing a lot, try as she might, she hasn't even been able to remember so much as a second of it.
On the one hand, that sucks. She hates not knowing what had happened to her, hates how cryptic Wash has been about the whole thing, hates the fact that she can't even remember the man who urged her to her willing death. Helplessness has never sat well with her, but in this case, there doesn't seem much that she can do.
On the other hand, she's living without the burden of a lot of pain and horror and loss that's been weighing on her for months. Rather than mooning over her absent fiance and dreaming of the day she'll get back to him, she's actually enjoying life on the islands. It is, after all, the first real home she can remember having. Intermittent horrors and punishments for dying aside, it's actually pretty nice here. She lives with her friends on a tropical island, she has no worries and no responsibilities beyond figuring out what to eat and how to get Wash to wear actual clothes rather than his armor once in a while, and whenever she's able to forget that gaping hole in her memory, she's actually pretty content.
The recent renovations to the huts and cottages mean that she's no longer working just to get the roof patched up and the floor resembling, well, a floor. But that doesn't mean there's nothing to do. Today, she's hanging around the cottage that she shares with Carolina and Wash, opening the windows, occasionally sweeping out dust, and going in and out of the door, occasionally picking a few wildflowers in the grass outside to take back inside.
God help you, Freelancers, your roommate's being domestic.
(Feel free to use the prompt or your own, or hit me up for a closed starter!)
no subject
She tilts her head, as if trying to recall something dancing at the edge of her memory, something she can't quite pin down. Because she does remember Wash telling her...something like this. Something about bringing down the Project. About a necessary sacrifice. And she remembers being angry at him, being shocked and upset and grieving, but for the life of her she can't remember why. ]
I don't...understand.
[ She frowns, brow furrowing. Trying to remember. Why would she care? Tex had been her friend, but Tex had been special. Different. ]
He was just an AI.
no subject
[In his mind's eye, he can hear the sound of pixel-static ghosting into nothingness with the broken-glass implosion of one fragment deconstructing himself utterly, pulling himself into pieces the way that the Alpha fought tooth and nail to prevent. The lightning crackle of an electromagnetic pulse, scourging Command clean of every inch of tech. Like it or not, there's no escaping it. Whether it's by someone else's hand or his own, Church is doomed, always, to end up giving himself to other people.]
[By design, he can't allow himself to get attached to them, when they come, because they always end up going too soon. He's too busy ensuring that Caboose doesn't come to pieces, and that Tucker doesn't verbally eviscerate someone else in the throes of his own grief.]
He was your friend.
no subject
It's not just that the Alpha is an AI. It's that he's the Alpha. He's Leonard Church. He's - essentially, at his core - the same man who had pushed and manipulated them all for so long. Who had put his agents into danger and pitted them against each other and, ultimately, decided that they were all expendable.
He was her friend?
CT shakes her head, leaning back against Amitusha and rubbing her eyes. Suddenly, she's exhausted. ]
Sure, Wash.
Whatever you say.
no subject
[He gets up. There's no going back to sleep after this.]
Forget it.
no subject
Where are you going?
no subject
[He's up now, so he might as well...take a walk. Secure a perimeter that doesn't exist.]
Don't think I'll be getting any more sleep after this.
no subject
It's late, but CT herself is wide awake now and restless. She hops off the bed, trailing after him as he leaves the room.
Probably he wants to be alone. But something in her doesn't want to just leave him be. Wants to poke at him, if only to get some kind of reaction. ]
I'll come with you.
no subject
[The lack of a helmet means that she can probably see the uncertainty, every flicker of hesitation. He's too used to people simply not being able to read that.]
All right.
[But in the end, he doesn't know how to refuse.]