CHARACTERS: Drift and VARIOUS LOCATION: around the station DATE: Mid February CONTENT: That post-mission funk WARNINGS: EDIT: ah shit the robots are fucking again
[Returning to the sterile environment of the station, after so long on the desert planet, is a shock to the system. A another unwelcomed and jarring experience in a long line of grating experiences, that do nothing more than make him want to hole up somewhere and wait for the next mission.
Jumping from one mission to the next, keeping busy and unthinking, until he can get the reward he so rightly deserves.
Sitting in the common area, the half-empty bottle of kvas from Daisy sitting on the low table in front of him, the Darkling sits, shifter of it cradled in his hands and elbows braced against his knees, drowning the thoughts in the harsh burn of alcohol.]
That doesn't even make any sense.
[Voice floating from far away, as empty as his glass is about to be as his eyes find Drift's face in the low lights.]
You know how to drink, but you really should learn to drive. [ Drift drops down into the chair without waiting to be invited. His seat is catty-cornered to the one Darkling occupied, perched with all the welcoming air of a castle gargoyle suffocated by moss.
He nods to the bottle, twist cap still sealed. ]
An apology. [ A beat and Drift explains, ] For making you scream.
I know how to ride. Driving- [rolling the word around in his mouth, unfamiliar and foreign on his tongue as he turns slowly to watch Drift take a seat.
Or, faking it. This isn't Drift anymore than he's the shadows that slink along the edges of the room.] is new.
Thank you. It doesn't happen often, and I find myself unused to it after so long.
[Rolling the glass between the palms of his hand] How fast can you go? Compared to a horse.
And? You're not over the hill yet, I think. [ That I think lilts at the end, almost like a question. Drift has no idea exactly how old the Darkling is or how much of his unnaturally long life he has left before him. ] I think the phrase is: Old dogs can learn new tricks?
[ Drift nods and relexaes, arms crossed over his mid section. ] First time for everything.
[ Drift pulls a face at the question. ] Compared to a horse? I was born a racer and life had other plans but I'd like to think you've raised the bar a little after firsthand experience.
Without risking a person's safety, then I'd say six, seven hundred kilometers per hour—eight when I was slimmer if I'm being honest.
[As if the lack of space is the only reason why he's reluctant to step inside Drift again and not because the enclosed space, the pressing darkness and the purr of his engine had been equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.
Blinking slowly, the Darkling takes a drink, head tilting.]
I want to say that such speeds are impossible, but- just look at where we are, nothing seems impossible.
The simulation room offers more room than you might expect. [ Drift wouldn't be breaking the sound barrier in that enclosed space anytime soon, but it wasn't a terrible idea. At least to teach the others how to drive. Another number on his gearshift like the Darkling managed might do something permanent. ]
You're the first person to ask me that. [ Drift was bemused the question even crossed the Darkling's mind. ] No, it's like moving any of your muscles or moving to an old dance step you've memorized.
I'm sure people have called what you're capable of 'impossible' more than once.
[Which simply earns Drift another raised eyebrow and a grin, hidden behind the clear glass as he drains it, letting the warmth of the kvas flow down his esophagus, pooling like expensive fire in the pit of his empty stomach.] I think you've heard me scream enough for one lifetime.
[Hand steady as he pours another drink.]
Not as such, no. I've been called many things, but never impossible for my Small Science.
A dance. Pity I didn't pay more attention, but I was rather busy at the time. Where are you now, in the simulation room perhaps?
[ Drift presses the flat of his palms on his his knees and leans back. ]
Impossible doesn't mean you weren't persecuted for being non-compliant. [ His choice of words was deliberate — the Darkling wasn't 'unnatural' but he was scapegoated. He and the Darkling possibly had a commonality in going against the grain of whoever was in charge. ]
I might be. [ Drift stands and stands over the Darkling a moment longer than was considered polite. ] Will you join me?
How to ride. You. I just want to be absolutely clear on this.
[The kvas poured goes down smooth, liquid fire in his stomach and the Darkling smacks his lips, eyebrow raised.]
Isn't that the story of everyone in this place - someone did us wrong, and now we're willing to sell ourselves to omnipotent orbs that seem to spread like a sickness through the various worlds.
[Another glass, hands less steady as he pours, staring off in to the middle distance. The room seems to fall away and the whole reason why he's hiding in the dark, even if it was in the common area, comes back. Welford and his fate, to live alone forever. Doomed to watch the world burn to ashes around him, and still stay. A witness to the destructive powers of the orbs.
That, or another fool, unthinking when making a wish.
He could have done it better. He would/i> make it better, would twist the power that was offered without losing himself in the process.]
Don't tie me up again.
[As he sets the bottle down, corked and still half-filled, glittering in the low lights.] Lead the way.
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no subject
Jumping from one mission to the next, keeping busy and unthinking, until he can get the reward he so rightly deserves.
Sitting in the common area, the half-empty bottle of kvas from Daisy sitting on the low table in front of him, the Darkling sits, shifter of it cradled in his hands and elbows braced against his knees, drowning the thoughts in the harsh burn of alcohol.]
That doesn't even make any sense.
[Voice floating from far away, as empty as his glass is about to be as his eyes find Drift's face in the low lights.]
no subject
He nods to the bottle, twist cap still sealed. ]
An apology. [ A beat and Drift explains, ] For making you scream.
no subject
Or, faking it. This isn't Drift anymore than he's the shadows that slink along the edges of the room.] is new.
Thank you. It doesn't happen often, and I find myself unused to it after so long.
[Rolling the glass between the palms of his hand] How fast can you go? Compared to a horse.
no subject
[ Drift nods and relexaes, arms crossed over his mid section. ] First time for everything.
[ Drift pulls a face at the question. ] Compared to a horse? I was born a racer and life had other plans but I'd like to think you've raised the bar a little after firsthand experience.
Without risking a person's safety, then I'd say six, seven hundred kilometers per hour—eight when I was slimmer if I'm being honest.
no subject
[As if the lack of space is the only reason why he's reluctant to step inside Drift again and not because the enclosed space, the pressing darkness and the purr of his engine had been equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.
Blinking slowly, the Darkling takes a drink, head tilting.]
I want to say that such speeds are impossible, but- just look at where we are, nothing seems impossible.
Does it hurt, changing like that.
no subject
You're the first person to ask me that. [ Drift was bemused the question even crossed the Darkling's mind. ] No, it's like moving any of your muscles or moving to an old dance step you've memorized.
I'm sure people have called what you're capable of 'impossible' more than once.
no subject
[Which simply earns Drift another raised eyebrow and a grin, hidden behind the clear glass as he drains it, letting the warmth of the kvas flow down his esophagus, pooling like expensive fire in the pit of his empty stomach.] I think you've heard me scream enough for one lifetime.
[Hand steady as he pours another drink.]
Not as such, no. I've been called many things, but never impossible for my Small Science.
A dance. Pity I didn't pay more attention, but I was rather busy at the time. Where are you now, in the simulation room perhaps?
no subject
[ Drift presses the flat of his palms on his his knees and leans back. ]
Impossible doesn't mean you weren't persecuted for being non-compliant. [ His choice of words was deliberate — the Darkling wasn't 'unnatural' but he was scapegoated. He and the Darkling possibly had a commonality in going against the grain of whoever was in charge. ]
I might be. [ Drift stands and stands over the Darkling a moment longer than was considered polite. ] Will you join me?
no subject
[The kvas poured goes down smooth, liquid fire in his stomach and the Darkling smacks his lips, eyebrow raised.]
Isn't that the story of everyone in this place - someone did us wrong, and now we're willing to sell ourselves to omnipotent orbs that seem to spread like a sickness through the various worlds.
[Another glass, hands less steady as he pours, staring off in to the middle distance. The room seems to fall away and the whole reason why he's hiding in the dark, even if it was in the common area, comes back. Welford and his fate, to live alone forever. Doomed to watch the world burn to ashes around him, and still stay. A witness to the destructive powers of the orbs.
That, or another fool, unthinking when making a wish.
He could have done it better. He would/i> make it better, would twist the power that was offered without losing himself in the process.]
Don't tie me up again.
[As he sets the bottle down, corked and still half-filled, glittering in the low lights.] Lead the way.