[Mostly Open] So we'll press, and press 'til you can't take it anymore!

[groupiedrifter]

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

Comments

iv

[farr]

[ rita is plenty of an eater herself, having the sort of body that needs all the substance she can get. which is why she comes to the kitchen at odd hours of the night (or — whenever it is, on account of being on a space station and losing all sense of what time even is). tightening the wrap around strap of her silk robe, hair up in curlers beneath a bandanna, she shuffles into the kitchen, attempting to keep her slippers quiet with each step.

but as quiet as she tries to be, clearly there's someone else who's causing a slight bit more noise despite all attempts to seemingly keep it to themselves.

she pauses in the middle of the room, peering around before tracking the sound of the noise, carefully making her way to peek behind the counter — and finding the sobbing body of the man whom she heard was previously carrying some sort of murderous parasite bent on killing everyone on the station.

oh ... goody, she thinks, teeth clenching a bit as she considers her options.

she could turn and leave, sure, pretend she didn't see anything at all, because yes, sometimes it's very good to mind one's own business! but — oh, why did she commit herself to being more of a hero these days? and heroes don't just abandon a crying person in need.

straightening herself up a bit, she takes a breath to boost her own confidence before she crouches down next to him, her voice quiet and sweet, with a kind smile. ]

I was wondering where that Rocky Road went.

[groupiedrifter]

[His startle reflex is still going strong, judging by the fact that he somehow manages to jump like a cartoon despite being on his ass. Luckily, the rocky road is salvaged, not left to fly and splatter somewhere as he turns his red-rimmed gaze at — A sort of familiar face. He knows her, yeah, or at least knows that the precursors had spoken to her. There's memories there, because his eyes saw it all, but... But.]

Mrm, uhm, y-yeah.

Shit.

Sorry. Uh.

[He holds out the carton, his brain so currently overwrought and suffocating that it has breached into the other side, which is 'no thoughts, head empty'.]

Here you go.

[The raging embarrassment will proceed this shortly, but he is nothing if not generous with ice cream that he's bawled his eyes out into.]

[farr]

[ she was with him very briefly, before she'd known what was going on in his head and she'd decided to very much keep her distance, but what she sees now is a definite contrast to the man that she had momentarily teamed up with on that train. more timid, more hesitant, less ... everything else.

but it's hard for her to tell what he's supposed to be like, since she'd never seen him as he was, not even sure whether this is him either, or if he's just scattered pieces after going on a mental journey like that.

still, she knows a bit of what that's like — how much of herself is rita farr or gertrude cramp or every other voice she's pulled out of her head to put on a performance. most days, she has no idea who she's supposed to be anymore. ]

That's alright. You beat me to it. You earned it.

[ but she doesn't withdraw herself, pausing for a moment before she lowers herself down to the floor carefully to sit beside him, legs stretched out in front of her, knees slightly bent. ]

I, too, enjoy a little forbidden dessert this hour of the night. The ice cream never judges us.

[groupiedrifter]

[Man, he feels... so uncool. So lame.

Sagging where he sits, he lowers the tub into his lap.]

Mmyeah, well, I don't exactly have the best eating habits. Either not eating anything all day or wiping out a box of twinkies, you know...? [If any a series of words there were to prove a man is not a diabolical, murderous hivemind...] I was, umm. Walking the hallway, and I suddenly had this thought of, uh. "Oh shit, I might have to face people I care about today!" And I looked to my left and there was the kitchen door, and I opened the freezer, and I thought, "Hey, you know what sounds like a totally logical, mature thing to do? Consume all the dairy in sight, maybe spice it with your tears."

[He sniffs, wiping his arm cross his eyes and bobbing his glasses up in the process — which he has to adjust.]

Sorry. I don't know what I'm doing here. But you don't have to, uhhh. Humor me, or anything. I'll figure it all out.

[farr]

Well, you certainly sound like someone I know. Her name ... is Rita Farr.

[ she gives a light spin of her hands, gesturing at herself, both a greeting of her name in case he doesn't happen to remember it from the last time they met on the train (since he seems to have been an entirely different person then) and as an admittance of her own frequent bad habits. ]

It's not like I'd be very good at humoring, anyway. I don't typically have answers or good advice at helping anyone's problems. I have multitudes of my own that pile by the day.

[ she speaks with a soft, almost casual voice, like it's such a simple thing, a way for her to lighten a topic that's heavy, since confronting her own issues is something she so very frequently attempts to avoid.

still, at the same time — well, however terrible she might be at it, there's still something about trying to help anyway.

after a moment, she starts up again, ]

But ... I do know a thing or two about wanting to hide. I spent a ... very long time doing it because, one day, the shame of my past mistakes was quite literally placed on center stage where everyone could see. And I was scared of the way that everyone would ... look at me. [ she peers down at her own hands, fingers picking at each other on her lap. ] I was a star once. [ she laughs as she says it, with no humor, false pride lost in a sigh. ] Loved and adored. And I wanted so badly to go back to it, to retrace my steps, and pretend it never went wrong. [ her head gives a small shake. ] But I couldn't. I can't.

[ she turns her head to look at him again, a slight smile on her lips, almost sad. ]

If I could hide forever, I would. I came here to indulge myself in calories because that's exactly what I was trying to do before you beat me to it. And we can do that. We can stay here as long as we like. [ gently, she reaches over, hand light over his. ] But, eventually, we're going to run out of ice cream.

[groupiedrifter]

... Oh.

[He wilts a little at her speech, brow furrowed. Her hand sits lightly over his, and the ice cream's been abandoned at the other side of him, spoon sliding obnoxiously slow down into the wreckage of Rocky Road. For a moment, he doesn't seem sure what to say to that — but then he grabs her hand back, gives it a squeeze.]

Well... Looking at you now, I'd say Rita Farr's gorgeous — obviously — and she's a pretty awesome talker, and she's patient and kind enough to try to help some weirdo binging ice cream in the dark... so I think she's pretty kickass.

[He sniffs, wiping his face on the inside of his jacket again.]

It's fucking scary, though. The whole, uh. 'Running out of ice cream' thing.

What the hell're we supposed to do when we run out of ice cream? [And yeah, okay. It's a double-meaning. And he rambles about that double-meaning with a passion, gesturing at the air.] They threw out my emergency snack drawer, y'know. When they were in my body. They scooped all my hostess snacks and potato chips and chocolate bars into the trash and threw it all out.

Freaking douchebags.

[farr]

[ well, she didn't come here for flattery, but somehow that's precisely what she gets, feeling her own cheeks a little flush at the declaration of more than a few compliments. she laughs lightly, ducking her head with a humble sense of modesty. for a girl that could swallow up all the nice things people could say about her, it's still nice to hear it.

especially now, partially confessing parts of her own faults. sometimes it's hard for someone like her to admit that she's far from perfect. on the other far end of the spectrum with it, actually. ]

Well, while I do like the sound of being "kickass" — [ actually, it has a very nice ring to it. ] I happen to really like weirdos. I'm plenty of one, too.

[ sometimes more than she's always willing to admit. but she's ... trying to embrace that identity these days. ]

As for your snacks, I tend to have a ... fairly big appetite. And I might have more than a few indulgences stashed away — chips, cookies, chocolate, almost anything with a "C". [ she tilts her head, with a warm smile. ] Sometimes, it's worth sharing with someone else.

[groupiedrifter]

... Yeah? I wouldn't wanna take from your stash... That kind of thing, it's important to have for when you really just gotta have a good breakdown. But — I'll remember that for a rainy day. Maybe take you up on a sleeve of cookies. Because not gonna lie, cookies and chips are huge weaknesses for me. I could burn through so many cans of Pringles... You ever need something done, just wave some of those in front of me, and I'll come running.

[Like a yapping little dog.

He smiles, and for once it crinkles his eyes.]

Listen, Rita — and this is, like, one of the biggest things I've learned in my life: being perfect and normal? It's fucking boring. To be weird? Kickass? To have mistakes? That's what sets you apart from people nobody wants to have a drink with.

[He sniffs again, sighing like he can finally breathe a little.]

It's because you're you that I don't feel as alone right now.

[farr]

Jelly donuts for me. [ she almost glows as she even mentions it. she's supposed to be the face of sophistication, someone who once watched her diet so closely, her own body would detest the sight of fatty foods. but she feels relaxed right now, shameless of her little spoils. ] The little opening where the jelly just sort of spills out so you can cheat and steal yourself an early lick before having to bite into it. It's like Christmas morning.

[ she gives out a gentle laugh, shaking her head at the sheer silliness of it, but it's strangely nice to talk about it without feeling the guilt.

— being perfect and normal? it's fucking boring.

she looks back at him, then, a sort of surprise in her quiet stare. how long has she craved that? perfection. normality. how badly had she wanted to go back to that, so much so that her brief days on that train without feeling the effects of her usually permanent condition seemed like a bliss at the time.

another breathless chuckle leaves her, this time to keep her eyes from going damp. ]

And here, I thought I was supposed to be cheering you up. [ she hadn't sought to feel better, and yet somehow she does. she hadn't even realized she needed it.

but she's relieved too, that her presence can somehow still do something useful. ]

But you're right. Things don't feel lonely right now at all.

[groupiedrifter]

[Puffy-eyed and looking like he'd just gotten through a bad break-up, Newton lays his head back and sighs miserably.]

Uuuugh, you're making me so hungry for jelly donuts.

[Honestly, he could eat a mountain's worth of baked goods at this point. Hostess when? Little Debbie's who? But her chuckle draws his head back upright, and he looks at her with a somewhat pleased expression; it's nice to see his words mattering to someone else; nice to know he can still do something worthwhile like that, even after everything. He gives her a little nudge with his shoulder, a little more confident than the man she'd found curled up and mourning minutes before.]

Any time you feel lonely, you can come find me.

And don't hesitate about it! Because I might be lonely then, too, so you'll be doing me a favor.

[farr]

Maybe we should turn this kitchen upside down until we find some.

[ because, honestly, she might be building up her own craving for it now too. though mostly she's feeling a flutter in her belly from the good feeling, from being able to laugh. rita's skilled enough that she's well practiced in her smiles, and can fake it like the best of them, but the honest ones? they're not always too common.

funny that she didn't expect to find it here, with someone that just days ago, she'd heard was a threat to the entire station, to which she quickly decided right then and there, she'd stay far and away as to not get herself involved in the danger.

but she's drawn to the mirrored loneliness, and with an offer like his, it's too easy for someone like her to latch onto it.

she reaches over, pulling one of his hands from the ice cream carton and grips it with her own, nodding with a smile. ]

That's a deal. And it's the same in reverse — we find each other when we're lonely.

[groupiedrifter]

[Ah, if there's anything that reminds him of Hermann Gottlieb, it's gripping hands like it's a hopeful tunnel at the end of the world. There's a hollow, sad feeling at the memory, but from its ashes is a tentative relief in knowing he's far less alone than he's ever been in his life here. His smile turns mischievous, and he winks behind black-rimmed glasses.]

Let's turn this kitchen upside down.