𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blackfire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2022-04-19 09:35 am
blackfire) wrote in ximilialog2022-04-19 09:35 am
oᥒᥴᥱ ι ᥕᥲs sᥱvᥱᥒ ყᥱᥲrs oᥣd (𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃)
CHARACTERS: Itachi and various.
LOCATION: Mostly his room but elsewhere in the station as well!
DATE: post-mission and onward.
CONTENT: local asshole causes problems on purpose, confused when they don't bite him on the ass.
WARNINGS: PTSD, guilt, possibly suicidal ideation, mention of an infected wound being gross and illness-related weight loss. More melodramatic theatrics than you can shake a stick at. Hit me up @ PM if you'd like a custom starter, or feel free to wildcard with discussion.
LOCATION: Mostly his room but elsewhere in the station as well!
DATE: post-mission and onward.
CONTENT: local asshole causes problems on purpose, confused when they don't bite him on the ass.
WARNINGS: PTSD, guilt, possibly suicidal ideation, mention of an infected wound being gross and illness-related weight loss. More melodramatic theatrics than you can shake a stick at. Hit me up @ PM if you'd like a custom starter, or feel free to wildcard with discussion.
CLARA (station return +2)
（ this is sent grudgingly at about 1600 hrs — «Clara, I require your assistance in dressing and bandaging an injury. If you are available, please come to my quarters.»
he would do it himself if it were not such an awkward angle. his chakra is too worn down to summon a clone — and even if he did, it would bear the same injuries as he does, making it all but useless at the task at hand.
when she arrives, she will find him sitting on the floor. old bandages have been stripped off and deposited in a trash can, and the smell of infection is clearly in the air, driven home by his — frankly, horrifying — looking wounds. clawmarks that dig in near his collarbone and carry on across his shoulder and down his scapula of his right side, overlaid with the wet, sticky mess of second and third degree burns. at the time, cauterization had been the only thing that kept him from bleeding out, but he is paying the price for it now. ）
My apologies — bandaging it proved too difficult on my own.
（ which he clearly doesn't enjoy admitting, but nevertheless. ）
he would do it himself if it were not such an awkward angle. his chakra is too worn down to summon a clone — and even if he did, it would bear the same injuries as he does, making it all but useless at the task at hand.
when she arrives, she will find him sitting on the floor. old bandages have been stripped off and deposited in a trash can, and the smell of infection is clearly in the air, driven home by his — frankly, horrifying — looking wounds. clawmarks that dig in near his collarbone and carry on across his shoulder and down his scapula of his right side, overlaid with the wet, sticky mess of second and third degree burns. at the time, cauterization had been the only thing that kept him from bleeding out, but he is paying the price for it now. ）
My apologies — bandaging it proved too difficult on my own.
（ which he clearly doesn't enjoy admitting, but nevertheless. ）
WEI WUXIAN (station return + 4)
（ he leaves his room on two occasions — once, to go to the infirmary and take a selection of antibiotics, bandages and dressings — and twice, to restock the nonperishable food that he keeps in his room, running low in light of his poor physical state. it is the second of these trips that he finds himself returning to wei wuxian outside his door.
he says nothing for a long moment. what feels the heart, in that imperceptible rent in time is meaningless. nothing cuts quite so deeply as betrayal, and he has not acted to lessen its impact.
he considers simply turning and walking in the opposite direction — more exhaustion than cowardice, but ultimately he steps up to the door, inclines his head faintly, and says, ）
Excuse me.
he says nothing for a long moment. what feels the heart, in that imperceptible rent in time is meaningless. nothing cuts quite so deeply as betrayal, and he has not acted to lessen its impact.
he considers simply turning and walking in the opposite direction — more exhaustion than cowardice, but ultimately he steps up to the door, inclines his head faintly, and says, ）
Excuse me.
MARTA (station return + 6)
（ he has occupied himself with scrolling back through the network, reading some of the digitized books in the earpiece's library, and idly working on the preliminary design for a jikukan jutsu — somewhat in the vein of hiraishin. he has always been curious if the yondaime hokage's signature move could be done with fire seals instead of lightning, and he has the time to puzzle out the academics of it all.
he is seated at his desk when the knock comes, and he goes briefly still. then he rises, and comes to the door. his usual assortment of security measures are disabled, and he opens it to — marta, who is holding some sort of dish between her hands.
they have not had much time to speak since they were in scorpion's bend, and he had been so cruel, so this is entirely unexpected. he raises a brow, and steps back to offer her admittance to the room — said room is immaculately tidy, but there's a lingering smell of illness in it that's unmistakable, his fever only having just broken the previous night. he looks wan, in addition to the fact his right arm is bound up in a sling, and has lost weight he didn't have to lose in the first place, throwing his cheekbones and the wings of his collarbone into sharp relief. his eyes are dark, rather than the vivid red of the sharingan. ）
Ah... Marta-san?
he is seated at his desk when the knock comes, and he goes briefly still. then he rises, and comes to the door. his usual assortment of security measures are disabled, and he opens it to — marta, who is holding some sort of dish between her hands.
they have not had much time to speak since they were in scorpion's bend, and he had been so cruel, so this is entirely unexpected. he raises a brow, and steps back to offer her admittance to the room — said room is immaculately tidy, but there's a lingering smell of illness in it that's unmistakable, his fever only having just broken the previous night. he looks wan, in addition to the fact his right arm is bound up in a sling, and has lost weight he didn't have to lose in the first place, throwing his cheekbones and the wings of his collarbone into sharp relief. his eyes are dark, rather than the vivid red of the sharingan. ）
Ah... Marta-san?
YELENA (station return +9)
（ he is holding the book loosely in one hand, jaw ticked faintly off to one side. the title is in what he has come to know as cyrillic, записки из мёртвого дома, which his earpiece tells him translates loosely to notes of a dead house. it had been in a bag hung outside his door, with a few handfuls of russian candy — making it clear who the items were from, at least. «Yelena-san. What is the occasion?» ）
YENNEFER (station return +11)
（ it is the first time he has been out of his room since his fever broke, and yennefer had asked him to the sunlight room. his attendance there is grudging — more because of the place than the company — but he is present, dressed in his customary all-black, this time as a robe not entirely culturally unlike a kimono. it's belted at the waist, and his right arm is cradled in the bunched fabric just north of the belt — enabling him to have it stabilized in a sling without seeming to, as many would have seen him similarly positioned in taeum, including yennefer herself. he moves without the suggestion of pain, but there are dark bruises beneath his eyes that speak to sleepless nights, and his usual grace is... studied rather than seamless.
yet, it does feel good to be out of his room. stretching his legs for the first time since giva. ）
So. What did you think of your first mission?
yet, it does feel good to be out of his room. stretching his legs for the first time since giva. ）
So. What did you think of your first mission?
FINN (station return +12)
（ it doesn't matter who reached out to whom, ultimately. what matters is that they are sitting side by each on his bed, backs to the wall, and there is an old projector on the floor displaying a movie on the far side of the room, bisected by the slight divot in the wall that hides his closet.
yelena informed and in many ways shaped his first introduction to movies, and so what he has on hand is largely due to her influence — popcorn, and a variety of snacks and drinks on a tray between them on the bed.
they are watching a movie about a talking dog named bolt. a movie about dogs wouldn't have been his first choice, but it has not been a considerable hardship thus far.
itachi is dressed in sleeping clothes, a sweatshirt that is notably too large for him, stamped with a logo says enjoy the ride that keeps slipping down off his left shoulder, and threadbare flannel pants that are rolled up at the ankles. he is still injured — though the infection has broken, and now he is simply sore and healing. he's wearing the sling under the sweatshirt, which means the right arm of it is curiously empty — but he hasn't mentioned it, nor does it seem to have impeded his functionality at all.
at some point, he holds out a stick of dango for finn to take. ）
Are there no instances of animals on Earth that can be understood by humans?
（ look, there are literal dog and cat ninja clans in his world, this is not a weird question. ）
yelena informed and in many ways shaped his first introduction to movies, and so what he has on hand is largely due to her influence — popcorn, and a variety of snacks and drinks on a tray between them on the bed.
they are watching a movie about a talking dog named bolt. a movie about dogs wouldn't have been his first choice, but it has not been a considerable hardship thus far.
itachi is dressed in sleeping clothes, a sweatshirt that is notably too large for him, stamped with a logo says enjoy the ride that keeps slipping down off his left shoulder, and threadbare flannel pants that are rolled up at the ankles. he is still injured — though the infection has broken, and now he is simply sore and healing. he's wearing the sling under the sweatshirt, which means the right arm of it is curiously empty — but he hasn't mentioned it, nor does it seem to have impeded his functionality at all.
at some point, he holds out a stick of dango for finn to take. ）
Are there no instances of animals on Earth that can be understood by humans?
（ look, there are literal dog and cat ninja clans in his world, this is not a weird question. ）
SHANG-CHI (STATION RETURN + 13)
（ he is in the process of doing laundry — which, for him means that his room has been strung with wire overlaid with towels, and is as such an immaculately cluttered maze of sheets, duvet covers and blankets. he has left it too long, with his injuries, and his natural tendency towards cleanliness was starting to eat at him.
the knock on his door... does not exactly alarm him. there has been a steady trickle of individuals coming to see him or otherwise making themselves known which is more alarming than it is gratifying, but after a moment of hesitation he does go to open the door. it's always an affair with him, the removal of tripwires and sealing tags.
shang-chi is standing outside, arms wrapped around a rolled-up futon mattress, and itachi just blinks at him. ）
Do you need somewhere to sleep...?
the knock on his door... does not exactly alarm him. there has been a steady trickle of individuals coming to see him or otherwise making themselves known which is more alarming than it is gratifying, but after a moment of hesitation he does go to open the door. it's always an affair with him, the removal of tripwires and sealing tags.
shang-chi is standing outside, arms wrapped around a rolled-up futon mattress, and itachi just blinks at him. ）
Do you need somewhere to sleep...?
no subject
surely he's not
no, of course he's gone off to read it. of course he's Just That Extra. the book is not long — less than three hundred pages, and it does not take him more than an hour to get through it, even reading without the sharingan. he has always had a knack for being able to quickly and with surety parse information.
the book is... not necessarily to his usual tastes, but he finds there is odd resonance to it. a criminal sent to a prison camp for the crime of murdering his wife and who, because of his societal standing, has been blind thus far to the plight of the class most prone to punishable criminal element. the truest criminals, of course, are men with more money than morals — but it is on the strength of their wealth that they are rarely caught, and nearly never prosecuted unless it becomes favorable and fashionable to do so.
the concept that retributive pain as a form of justice is what rends apart the fabric of society and civilization is a curious concept. he finds himself lingering on those pages, fingers tapping against cyrillic words, committing the characters to memory even as his earpiece translates them for him.
the final act, the man goryanchikov's release and his declaration of resurrection is... curious. as is the fact that the narrator views the man's death as a passive form of suicide, done out of guilt for the death of his wife.
hm.
despite the speed at which he read it, it takes him several more hours to reply. then: ）
Some of the references escaped me.
It is an interesting psychological look at human nature.
Have you read it?
no subject
What? You've read it already? I should have given you one of the longer ones.
[Not that there's been a whole lot of Russian Literature in the supply drops. Especially in the original language. But maybe she could ask for some of his other works.]
But yes, that is how many people feel about his writing, I think.
I have read it. It was a long time ago, but we read a lot of his work. Tolstoy too. The Red Room wanted us to be well rounded and educated and also to respect Russian superiority.
no subject
（ he did quite enjoy it. ）
That does not surprise me to learn. Nationalism is a forge in which useful tools are fired.
Have you been many other places, beyond Russia and your Ohio?