Newt Geiszler | Pacific Rim (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
groupiedrifter) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2022-05-24 10:21 pm
groupiedrifter) wrote in ximilialog2022-05-24 10:21 pm
[Mostly Open] So we'll press, and press 'til you can't take it anymore!
CHARACTERS: Precursors and you. And Eventually Newton. Hopefully!
LOCATION: A holding room in Ximilia Station.
DATE: Est. two days post-mission, after the kaiju is defeated and the orb is retrieved.
CONTENT: The precursors are revealed — and are finally removed from Newt's mind.
WARNINGS: Possession and the bodily autonomy issues that come with that. More will be added if necessary!
Closed and opened starters will be added as I go, which will be announced on plurk! But if you don't use plurk or would rather keep an eye out by email/tracking, feel free to use the tracking option and mark to receive notifs any new top level comments posted to this log! The log will involve an open starter to visit the precursors where they're cuffed/contained in the room, so stay tuned.
Also no rush once the open starters are posted!
Feel free to focus on the player plot log first and come back to this later.
CLOSED STARTER | THE DOCTOR
DARKLING'S TOP LEVEL | WHILE NEWT WAS SLEEPING...
OPEN STARTER | THE PRECURSORS, REVEALED
CLOSED FINAL CONCLUSION | THE PRECURSORS, REMOVED
OPEN PROMPTS | NEWTON GEISZLER'S RETURN
LOCATION: A holding room in Ximilia Station.
DATE: Est. two days post-mission, after the kaiju is defeated and the orb is retrieved.
CONTENT: The precursors are revealed — and are finally removed from Newt's mind.
WARNINGS: Possession and the bodily autonomy issues that come with that. More will be added if necessary!
Closed and opened starters will be added as I go, which will be announced on plurk! But if you don't use plurk or would rather keep an eye out by email/tracking, feel free to use the tracking option and mark to receive notifs any new top level comments posted to this log! The log will involve an open starter to visit the precursors where they're cuffed/contained in the room, so stay tuned.
Also no rush once the open starters are posted!
Feel free to focus on the player plot log first and come back to this later.
DARKLING'S TOP LEVEL | WHILE NEWT WAS SLEEPING...
OPEN STARTER | THE PRECURSORS, REVEALED
CLOSED FINAL CONCLUSION | THE PRECURSORS, REMOVED
OPEN PROMPTS | NEWTON GEISZLER'S RETURN
infirmary baby!
Out in the hall he saw a figure stumble out, one he knew who loathed being seen in any state of weakness. The oil dark pools under his hobbled stride, and shadowy tendril that lashed out around his ankles either didn't deter Drift or went by his notice.
Drift was already making the short strides to meet the Darkling halfway, arms already going out. ]
Hey, you need to take it easy.
no subject
[The words clipped and angry, leaking emotions in the way his jaw clenches harder than his hands hanging by his sides. The Darkling spares a short glance at Drift, the real Drift, who is made of living metal and taking up space in the too-white hallway.
He's still thinking, and rethinking, options. Excuses. Ways to spin this in to something that is less. Something that shows less of his weaknesses.]
no subject
You heard me. You look like you're in a bad way. By all means, though, pass out on the floor in the middle of the hallway if it preserves your dignity. [ Sort of. ]
He's not himself. [ Drift amended, taking a shot in the dark. ]
no subject
[He can see him, because it's hard to overlook this man, but his eyes are empty of everything but rage when he turns them on Drift for a short second before watching the hallway again.
His mind is still in the infirmary, still thinking about a way around the man guarding it.
There were ways to play this, to not give away more of himself than he already had by being caught, red-handed and shadows swirling in angry waves, and there were ways to reach his goal. But no way to do both.]
No one are who they claim to be. We came here as clean slates, why would this one be the only one hiding the truth from the rest of us.
no subject
He stands firm in the corridor — the points of his helm threatening to scratch the ceiling as he stares stolid down at the Darkling. ]
no subject
[Casual and non-caring, but it is rather impossible to stare down someone when you have to crane your neck back just to watch the face. The Darkling tries anyway, head tilting back and eyebrow raised.]
no subject
Drift doesn't slouch, but he does bend down in a half-bow. Eyes turned a slate grey-blue and fixed on the Darkling's face. Thinking back on their last conversation. The speculative idea of Cybertronians with warframes like Drift against Ravkans and the etherealki suddenly had more bite to them when not passed over the rim of a glass of whiskey. (What would you do? To save your world?) ]
Because you've already said enough that I know what you're feeling, [ You're not the only old killer who has lived too long, he wants to say. ] And that you're wrong — we're not here with clean slates, this is a ferry where the fee is regret and no one rides for free.
And because if you've held it together this long you can do it for a little while longer. [ Drift cants his head and stares pointedly, almost asking the Darkling if he wants to lash out and rupture the hull separating them from the vacuum of space — where dark truly was dark. ]
no subject
[Hiding his true intentions, the rage that wants to lay waste to all of them for continuing to house this threat to- Alina in their midst. That allows this threat to keep breathing, when it could be one of them next- hides inside questions and misdirection. In clever words and desperate courage.
Had anyone even bothered to see if all of them came back this time, or were they all distracted by the monster among them?
The Darkling watches Drift back, unflinching in the face of the enormity of this man. He doesn't bother to follow Drift's gaze, he knows what it out there. He can feel it every time he Summons. The dark emptiness between the stars, the threads that binds them all to the Making. The pulsing heart of a distant sun, and the one much closer to him than that. The one that should be lighting up his world, and who walked away.]
We are clean slates to each other. We could be heroes. [A beat, eyes growing impossibly darker] Villains. Mass murderers and the innocent victims. The only ones who knows the truth, are Viveca and Degar. Until this one showed his hand.
no subject
[ A literal shot in the dark if there ever was one. He could be wrong, but he could also be close to a raw nerve. Drift held his unwavering, leveling stare in the Darkling's eyes that had gone so dark they were almost drawing in the light around him. They were so fixed on each other that the sterile white hallways and their droning fluorescent lights warped around his tunneled vision into a void.
Drift's hand twitched — not towards his sword, but it coiled with the promise of quick movement all the same. ]
You feel like a hero right now?
no subject
[He expected all of them to stab him in the back (that had been the truth a year ago and it almost, almost felt like the truth now), what he hadn't expected was for Alina to get hurt.
By her own hands, sure. She seemed so driven to throw her life away, but by this?]
I am saddened by what happened, by what will continue to happen as long as we still shelter the perpetrator.
[He does notice the twitch of a large hand, and his eyebrow goes up.]
Do you want to hurt me, Drift? Is this why you're here.
no subject
[ Drift kept most of the venom out of his voice because he did not want to operate entirely on assumptions. The loudest of them being, the Darkling most likely went on this warpath because the thing taking up residence in Newt had made it personal. The Darkling definitely wasn't acting like this because of a general concern for the station's safety. ]
No, [ He said firmly, but not moving an inch from where he positioned himself. ] I want you to take a step back and think.
no subject
[Whatever clever little insult he was about to lop at Drift dies before it reaches his mouth.
The shadows that bleed from him, that coat the walls and stick to the ceiling, stop quivering and wait. Hovering around him like a cloak, as he stares back, mouth slightly parted.]
What do you think you can hear?
[He keeps her close, he keeps her a secret for her own protection, but it's been a year of keeping to the shadows, of watching from afar and perhaps it shows on his face in unguarded moments, the Darkling has a split-second of panic before he schools his features back in to cold indifference.]
And what should I think about, according to you.
no subject
I want you to think about where you are for a start. [ Drift's gaze flicks to the wall before falling back on the Darkling. The thought of what the Cut could do to living steel registers, but he would like to keep that all in the hypothetical. ]
What do you think will happen — that you can waltz in and be judge, jury, and executioner? We're standing in a confined space floating in an endless vacuum, and we don't need to find out if you can start punching new windows in the station in your bid for retribution or because someone needs to stop you from getting more out of hand.
[ Making this tragedy twofold with someone dead or locked away. Drift didn't say that. He didn't think he should have to. ]
Please just stop for a second and ask yourself how this is going to go.
no subject
[A pointed flat note to his voice as he watches, as his eyes narrow and the shadows bleed down to pool on the floor around them. They writhe, an endless sea of black tentacles and they lap at Drift's feet.]
I was trying to keep us all safe, but not everyone here wants that. Did you feel it, Drift, the fear that rushed in when he started blowing up the train and we- well, most of us- were so amputated, so powerless- that he had almost free reign.
[Voice dropping to a harsh whisper as the shadows rise up behind him. A wall cornering them both in a circle of darkness, blotting out the light.]
He must have been planning this for months. Looking us in the eye while plotting the best way to kill us all. How many silly and childish messages did he send out, just to see who would fall for this harless act? But now we know.
Now we know.
no subject
[ Drift sees the hints of fear reverberating off of the Darkling. A spider's web of a thread plucking at the wider web of the unknown and shrinking in the echo. The Darkling is old — he is very old and tired.
With barely a flick of the wrist, Drift grips the handle of one of his swords and sends it flying at the Darkling's feet. Shadows shiver and disperse and in the momentary distraction, Drift feints. He dodges through a forest of shadow until his arms encircle the Darkling. Shadows flare and lash out, but Drift holds its master close.
Drift wraps his arms around the Darkling a little bit firmer and says, ]
I'll never give up on you.
no subject
Uncaring if it rips the station apart, as long as he survives - and wouldn't he? It would take more than the vast emptiness of space to kill him, when a dagger to the heart or any of the inventive tortures in Shu Han didn't.
He would live forever, but Drift-- no, it was time to end those millions of years.
The Cut forms between his fingers, the darkness vibrating with his intentions, the call of his Small Science bringing in the darkness that surrounds them all, when--]
What?
[Strong arms around him, holding on even when his hands drop, shadows bleeding off of him, billowing down the hallway and filling up the corridor with nothing but impenetrable shadows.] What are you doing?
[Standing ramrod straight in the circle of Drift's arms, he tilts his head back arrogantly, nostrils flaring.]