Karrie (Vandal) Norton (
vandalization) wrote in
re_alignment_logs2012-12-16 07:07 pm
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Entry tags:
- !open,
- brave police: j-decker | kagerou,
- tf: g1 | thundercracker,
- tf: idw | drift,
- tf: idw | perceptor,
- tf: idw | wing,
- ✘ ace attorney | kay faraday,
- ✘ dead space | vandal,
- ✘ fate/stay night | arturia pendragon,
- ✘ tf: idw | ultra magnus,
- ✘ tf: prime | wheeljack,
- ✘ tf: shattered glass | soundwave (crau)
Hallways always [OPEN]
who: Vandal and any visitors. [OPEN]
what: Vandal is bed-bound, recovering from her month-long detainment and torture.
when: All this week.
where: The Medbay
warnings: very yes
notes: Tag in your own threads, it can be set during any point in the week.
The beep of the monitors is loud with her head this eerily silent. Whatever he did to her, between the needles and questioning, he separated it. Took something. Now that static in her head is far quieter. It's almost as maddening as when it was present.
Now she's almost lonely without it. Well- she was lonely before, but now even more so.
She doesn't sleep, no. It's not safe to sleep anymore. She wants to scream every time she's left alone, but it's not practical to have someone with her all the time. Prism is dead, the Gatherer is dead, but the way she goes back to that place every time she shuts her eyes.
So she lays in a space between waking and sleep, startling back to consciousness every tie she starts to drift. Shaking. Thinking about it. What it did to her.
She reaches up to smooth a finger over the gauze covering what used to be her right eye.
Ruined. He ruined her worse than the church did. The mental, the physical.
Everything. Ruined.
She wishes they'd have killed her when they found her.
But she's also a coward, and afraid of death, so here she sits and lets the stitches heal.
what: Vandal is bed-bound, recovering from her month-long detainment and torture.
when: All this week.
where: The Medbay
warnings: very yes
notes: Tag in your own threads, it can be set during any point in the week.
The beep of the monitors is loud with her head this eerily silent. Whatever he did to her, between the needles and questioning, he separated it. Took something. Now that static in her head is far quieter. It's almost as maddening as when it was present.
Now she's almost lonely without it. Well- she was lonely before, but now even more so.
She doesn't sleep, no. It's not safe to sleep anymore. She wants to scream every time she's left alone, but it's not practical to have someone with her all the time. Prism is dead, the Gatherer is dead, but the way she goes back to that place every time she shuts her eyes.
So she lays in a space between waking and sleep, startling back to consciousness every tie she starts to drift. Shaking. Thinking about it. What it did to her.
She reaches up to smooth a finger over the gauze covering what used to be her right eye.
Ruined. He ruined her worse than the church did. The mental, the physical.
Everything. Ruined.
She wishes they'd have killed her when they found her.
But she's also a coward, and afraid of death, so here she sits and lets the stitches heal.
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"I'll bring you more things, if you like," he said. "It won't look like a--" What was the word? "--hospital, that way." That had to be better. Right?
His smile faded, when she asked about Christmas. Kay had been chattering about it, which was good, but, honestly he wasn't sure what to tell her -- whether or not it was near or far. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "It... probably is, since the others are talking about it."
One shoulder lifted in a shrug. "I've never heard of it before. But she's determined to make it good."
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"It's a good holiday. All about friends and family and togetherness and all of that fun shit. You'll like it." She does sound, just a tiny bit bitter.
"All you gotta know is that people exchange gifts, drag trees in and decorate them, and you have to be good because Santa Claus is coming."
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Maybe when she felt better, he could bring Kay. To make it up to both of them. He does hear the slight change in her voice. That's a good thing, right? That means this is a good topic.
"Then we'll make it a good one for you, too," he tells her. "I'll do my best. I promise."
He nods slowly, taking that in. "Who's Santa Claus? Is he your friend?"
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Even in the darkest hour... adorable robots come through.
Now, the question makes her think. It would be a dick move to... make something up. But it's so.
So easy. And harmless for the most part. Maybe she'll leave it up to his imagination.
"No. He travels all through the universe, and keeps a list of every living being. He checks who's been naughty and who's been nice and... well."
She trails off.
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He means that, too, if the look on his face is anything to go by.
Except then the look is replaced by concern, uncertainty. Who's been naughty and... well... He blinks.
"What happens... if they aren't 'nice'?"
Because kidnapping, property destruction and fleeing authorities doesn't really sound 'nice' to him. Not to mention what he'd done to the Chieftain...
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"He gives them lumps of coal. Gives presents to the nice people."
She just couldn't do it. After last time, anyways.
"But that's just between you and me, okay?"
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Well, that's not nearly so bad. He's not sure what he's going to do with coal, but, that's better than what his mind automatically jumped to.
"What is he going to give you, then?" he asks. Because, clearly, she's going to get a present.
He nods slowly. "I won't tell anyone. Okay?"
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"Coal for me, babe. I haven't been on the nice list for a long time."
Mass-murderers aren't on the nice list.
"You should write him a letter and ask for something."
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He squares his shoulders, tilting his chin up. "You can be on mine, then." As... if he actually had one. But with all she's gone through, why would she deserve coal?
"I don't think anyone can bring me what I want to ask for."
Like a soul. Or someone who's missing.
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"You never know. Don't doubt Santa. He can do anything. He's magic."
Not to give anyone false hope or anything.
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He shakes his head, shifting to touch her hand again.
"It's a nice thought... if magic could help someone bring you a soul. A heart..."
Life, in other words.
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"Is that what you want?" She shakes her head, "You already have plenty of soul, Kagerou. Probably more than some of the folks here. A soul isn't a tangible thing. It just means you have the capacity to feel. And for compassion, and all of that nice shit."
She shrugs and lays back.
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Though he doubts anyone is going to be capable of bringing him the other thing he desperately wants -- it's safer though, to say this alone. He's surprised, though, at her answer. It's more than she's really spoken so far.
"I trust you," he says. "But I'm not used to a human being thinking so highly of my life... I should be, though. Shouldn't I? You always have..."
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Here she gets way more than a handful of people running to her rescue.
"You deserve it though. Be treated right. You're just as much a person as I am. Probably more."
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He doesn't say it aloud, but it's as much of a promise as any. She's his friend. He won't leave a friend. No matter the risks.
Recent events have proved that much, anyway.
"Don't say that," he tells her, more firmly than he usually tends to speak. "You... have the capacity to feel. And for compassion." A hesitation, and the slightest of smirks as he finishes repeating her own words. "And all of that nice shit... A soul. As you put it."
He tilts his head. "I don't know what's more human than having that."
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The moment he repeats her though... that earns a raise of an eyebrow.
Did he seriously just say 'shit'?
"Kagerou... you ever hear the phrase, 'do as I say, not as I do'?"
Well. Whatever. She'll leave well enough alone. Serves her right for cursing so much around him.
"Anyways thanks. You're too sweet for your own god."
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The confidence fades quickly, though, when she asks the question. He blinks, shaking his head slowly. Had he said something wrong? He was trying to make a point. To help.
"No...? Should I have?"
He'll learn. Eventually. He already found out the hard way not to say "buttfuck".
"Sweet. I wouldn't say that." Another shake of his head. "Sweet implies goodness. I've... done things no one would consider good."
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"Ah don't worry about it. I should know better than to swear around you anyways." He's like a small child that's bitg and made of metal.
"You know, a lot of people here say that exact thing, including me. Doesn't matter what you did in the past, okay?"
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But he does frown, then. "I don't mind," he says. "You can speak how you want. It doesn't bother me."
Probably because he hasn't heard those words before, but, there you go.
"If it doesn't matter for me... does it matter for you?" If he's not allowed to claim he isn't a good 'person', then his friend shouldn't, either. At least, that's how it works in his mind.
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She shrugs.
"I-" That's a tough question, one she can't answer.
She closes her mouth, looking away.
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Even when he doesn't mean to be. Besides, she can't be more of a bad influence than the robot who told him human intercourse involved the phrase "penis excitement".
When she looks away, he tilts his head, waiting to hear her continue. She doesn't. His hand inches forward a little, fingertip brushing her arm again.
"I don't think you're a bad person," he says, quietly, firmly. "You've been better to me than any human in my world ever was. You care for the other robots, even though they aren't your kind." He shakes his head. "I can't think poorly of you." The bare flicker of a smile again.
"You don't have to agree. But... that is how I feel about you."
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"Okay." She'll just accept that for now.
"You don't have anywhere to be do you?" She's hoping he'll say no. Maybe if he stays she can get some rest...
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He'll take it at that. She's already been through a lot. Pushing wouldn't help anything right now.
Instead, he shakes his head. "I told Kay I would be here. If she needs me, she knows where I am..." So, no. He doesn't have anything pressing, unless the girl calls for him.
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He answers almost immediately, before thinking about that for a moment. He shakes his head. "I mean... no, I don't mind. Yes, I'll stay."
He shifts closer to her side, fingers resting on the side of her bed. "Do you want me to be quiet for you? Or speak...?" Because, more than anything, he just wants to help her.
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