lifeaftr | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Legion and you + a couple of closed toplevels
What: Revival
When: Jan 28th
Where: Temple + other locations on Enso
Warnings: Mentions of death. Not sure what else will come up.

(The Shadow's cruel words are partially obscured by static and the feedback from damaged systems, and the sight of its departure fades as Legion's vision cuts out.

Then, they wake up.

Disoriented, they spend some time wandering around the temple and the surrounding area.

For those who encounter them, it should be immediately obvious that something is wrong: they are unable to speak in any language save for Geth.)

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[It was - ]

[The Drifter blinks, their shock evident in the lift of their shoulders, the subtle widening of those beetleshell-black eyes. It was theirs.]

[They'd known that their Shadow was ruthless, vicious, capable of terrible things. They'd known it as soon as they'd run into it directly, faced with its constant, endless stream of cruelties and implementations of pain and its vengeful attack on anyone who happened by.]

[But Legion was - they're armed.]

[The Drifter is too startled to resort to hands. They only flick up garbled strings of text, in pure dismay:]

we
they
it

no

(They look up at the Drifter, who appears paralyzed with horror and dismay.

Regret is irrelevant: they cannot change their decision to share this data.

Perhaps the Drifter will recognize the sounds they make now: it is the same distressed chatter they make every time they see them hurt. They stand up, headflaps fluttering, but do nothing. They are unable to reach consensus on how to proceed.

The past is irrelevant. But the shadow has made it clear that the Drifter experiences self-loathing: it is likely they also experience self-blame.)

Edited 2019-01-30 19:26 (UTC)

[They shouldn't - ]

[It wasn't their fault, and they shouldn't be upset over this, should not be dragged backwards into their own uncertainty and self-blame, because neither of those change anything or solve anything, there is a certain worthlessness in guilt without action in recompense but what possible action could they take to atone for this?]

[What actions can they take to mend what their harsher, darker self broke? It was a piece of them - it was a part of them they sought to deny, and they'd denied it, and these are the consequences.]

[Their hands close up over their face, briefly, and then fall away again in the same instant.]

don't want you dead

(We know.

They chatter, watching the Drifter.

We are uncertain, but we believe it was retaliation: we did not react as negatively to shared data as the "shadow" likely desired.

There are other explanations to be considered, but the shadow emphasized possible negative impacts on Legion multiple times.)

[Retaliation?]

[They can't communicate what they must, cannot even begin to start sorting what needs communicating and what doesn't and how best to prioritize. Their Shadow had been cruel to most everyone, particularly those that the Drifter saw as allies - ]

[They weren't there. They weren't there to stop them when it mattered.]

[Should have isn't a phrase in their vocabulary, not typically; there is a lot of should haves that go unsaid and unthought and unknown, because what point is there in pointless regret?]

[Focus. Focus on the task at hand. Focus on responding.]

data
?

(It is why we wanted to speak with you.

They pause for a moment and chatter, headflaps rippling.

Are you synthetic?)

[Fleeing into the sanctuary of another topic - anything else - should be easier than grappling with the overpowering sensation of their own inescapable guilt. And yet, it isn't, and it isn't because the topic Legion chooses is like a pair of hands jamming down around their throat, garroting the breath from their lungs.]

[There's a flicker of something across the stripe of skin that is the only thing visible of their features, perhaps shock, or maybe outrage.]

it told you

[It isn't a question.]

[Of course it did. Of course it had to divulge the shameful, hateful truth of their existence.]

(Their headflaps flare, flutter.

Yes.

They fidget.)

[The Drifter turns away. There's a coldness to the motion, abrupt as it is curt.]

[They try not to think about this. They try not to think about those memories, fogged and fuzzed as they are, and while they do not enjoy thinking of their treatment at the hands of those who blame them (justifiably) for the crimes of their people, even less do they enjoy thinking of the reason for that.]

they should not have

(They chatter.

They are aware of the Drifter's aversion to touch, so they do not reach out to touch them, instead moving to be in their view again.

Why do you hate your origin?)

Edited 2019-01-31 04:11 (UTC)

why

[Why do they hate it?]

[Something smolders in their gaze, briefly, darkening their gaze to a pair of glistening coals.]

we were made to fight
to kill
to destroy
my kind are hated for that
for our origin
for our purpose

(Their headflaps flutter.

To create life to serve as a means to an end is wrong.

Their lights flash red.

Perhaps if the organics of your world hate it so much, they should not have permitted such creation in the first place.

Instead, organics punish us for their actions.

Does this remind Legion of things entirely too personal? Yes.)

[They don't dwell on it. They don't think about it. They cannot change it, and so - why waste time on it?]

cannot change it
it is how things are

[So why does it matter?]

(They chatter.

You have stated it cannot be changed.

Then why do you blame yourself?

Though logical, it is clear that the Drifter does not believe the logic of their statement.)

does not matter

[They don't, they don't, they - what does it matter? They don't think about it, about blame, so they - what does it matter?]

inconsequential
irrelevant

(It is more relevant than you are willing to admit.

They turn their left shoulder towards the Drifter, and look behind it, at the knife scar on their back.)

[They shake their head, and they continue shaking it, up until the scar of the knife's damage is bared to them, and then they force themself to look at it and not glance away, no matter how it clenches their heart in their chest. That tired organ throbs there, painfully as always.]

it is past
cannot be changed

(Error: this discussion appears caught in a loop.

Consensus: They will attempt to break it.

Drifter, you are like us.)

[They're not, really; they're not a machine. They're just something that was made, that was built - but that must be what they meant.]

and
?

[Why is that important. Why do their origins matter to them.]

(Your shadow stated you are unable to love yourself because of your origins.

They chatter.

Your actions corroborate this: you have previously dismissed topics as irrelevant to avoid discomfort.

We are concerned. You are our ally.)

[A violet gout of hatred for their Shadow boils up in their throat, bubbling like a ream of hot oil spilling out across their insides. Immediately, they swallow it back. It stings, cloying, like bile, impossible to choke back even if it's pointless, pointless, pointless.]

there is no point
already dead
dying

(Yes.

Legion doesn't seem particularly bothered. They know this. They have accepted it.

All die. Especially from the perspective of the Geth.

They do not age as others do. Their body is replaceable. The Drifter is aware of this.

You are alive now.)

what does it matter
what i am
all that matters
is what i do

[They cannot make it better,, they cannot atone for it, they cannot mend what their kind has wrought, but they can commit themself to leaving the world a little kinder, a little better, than how they entered it.]

(If it does not matter, then why are you ashamed of it?

We have already discussed this. This interaction has repeatedly resulted in logical loops. We apologize for the distress we have caused.

After a moment, they sit down.

Will you join us?)

[They're not, they're not ashamed, they - ]

[They're going in circles. Logical loops. Impossible to escape, and that's not what they do; going in loops isn't moving forward.]

not ashamed

[There's just no point in dwelling.]

[They look away.]

why