The Pills Won't Help You Now [OPEN]

[vandalization]

WHO: Vandal + OPEN to visitors.
WHERE: Medbay | Solus Temple
WHEN: A day after her Big Freakout.
WHAT: Visits and explanations.
WARNINGS: Vandal...

Have some mood music.



Whatever Soundwave had done to her, it had landed just about passed her into another plain of existence for a while.

A dreamless sleep, something she hadn't felt in a while. No screeching static, nothing running at her, needles for arms, drooling puss and stale blood with nothing more than the desire to rip her open.

Just darkness.

And when she wakes, she's alone.

Someone has her stereo system turned on, and soft, crackly music is playing.

Her RIG, bundled in a corner.

When she moves, she finds her arm stinging. Bandaged. She doesn't remember getting hurt, but she remembers being there again. Back on the station. Everything turning to shit. It's been getting worse. Something she was previously able to stave off with a precarious mixture of pills and alcohol, but eventually those weren't even able to dull that whispering. The words that were always just too quiet to make out. Or overlaid with so much static that even when they were screaming she couldn't understand.

She sighs.

She lays back, staring at the ceiling.

Her head is suspiciously quiet.

Karrie could just get up, gather her things and leave, but where would she go? "Home"? She has no real home. She was just fooling herself.

So instead, she stares up and the ceiling and waits, listening to the distant music and the passive sounds of the monitors.

Comments

[thxforthememories]

He seems to fold in on himself then, shoulders drawing up, wings flattening. It's true, they, for the most part, seemed accepting of him. But he can't seem to fully reconcile with the idea of being a part of them. They aren't like him -- not quite.

"It's different," he says, slowly. "Complicated. I... was never meant to join them. I'd never even spoken to them. Until I found myself here."

Because demanding to be left alone in the middle of a street didn't really count as talking, did it? He falls quiet again, watching her.

"How so?" A pause. "If... you want to explain, I will listen."

[vandalization]

"Why is that...?" She feels like she's probably asking a deeply personal question, but everything lately has been kind of deeply personal. So whatever.

Though when he asks her she simply shakes her head.

No. She doesn't want to talk about it. Not in detail. She really doesn't. She'd rather talk about him right now.

[thxforthememories]

Personal? Yes. Deeply personal? Not so much. He hasn't exactly made a secret of his story, after all. But even so, he waits, to see if they're going to be trading, or if he'll just be speaking.

When she shakes her head, he nods, accepting it. "All right."

No argument. Just that. Air cycles, before he makes up his mind with how to begin. "Because I'm a prototype," he tells her. There's no bitterness in the words -- sadness, maybe. But nothing angry or upset over the fact. "A shadow of someone else."

He pauses, before continuing. "My assignment was... to train, to test, the one they built after me. We were alone, just the two of us... and when I finished, he was to be part of the Brave Police. I wasn't."

It's just the bare bones of the story. But she seems the type to ask, if she really wants to hear more.