[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

iii

[callada]

[Rosinante is torn between checking on Newt and letting him be. There are good reasons for both, after all. He starts by taking a middle option. The guy has been holed up in his room for a while, but surely eventually he'll have to come out to get food or raid the latest supply drop or something like that.

So he hovers. Swings past Newt's room every now and then just to see if the door's open, or to hear if he's talking to anyone inside. Eventually he gives up on that tactic and sits cross-legged outside in the hallway, then knocks against the door, because announcing his presence is probably less creepy than sitting for hours just in case.]

It's Rosinante. Just checking to see if you need anything.

[groupiedrifter]

[There's a distinct sound of an orchestral My Heart Will Go On playing in the distance before it abruptly shuts off with a soft click. Probably had something to do with Newton hearing Rosinante appearing just outside his door.

And judging from the long pause after that, he's struggling with the concept of facing someone who's clearly there because they know he's a dumpster fire.]

Uuuh...! Rosi, hey, uh — I don't need anything. I'm... good...

[But after a moment, there are footfalls padding along the inside the room. Rosinante will feel the distinct thump and reverberation of another man sliding down the other side of the door, mirroring him.

Newt doesn't seem prepared to say much of anything, but.

He's here.

Summoning up the courage, he says:]

... How's everyone doing?

[callada]

[Through the door is fine. That's enough. He'd feared he'd be ignored entirely, so he'll take this attempt to reach ever so slightly through the self-imposed wall of guilt and shame. He knows a thing about those himself, anyway.]

Doing all right, I think. Shaken, some of them, for sure. But they're coming around, now those things that did all that are gone. I'm more worried about you, right now. You managing all right?

[groupiedrifter]

[A hand scrubs across his face.

It's a little more prickly than usual, but what can ya do? Better than clean-shaven, right now. The less he's like how they'd 'groomed' him, the better. He thinks about that day he'd looked in his apartment mirror in Sedorum and saw them looking back at last, and his stomach churns.]

... I wish people would stop asking me if I'm all right.

There are people still in infirmary beds because of what they made me do.

I'm peachy compared to them.

[callada]

You're right. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve people looking after you, too. I'm no good with infirmary stuff, I can't help there.

[Can't really even visit, not with how Daisy looks at him now. He'll steer clear until she's out of that bed.]

And I know, personally, how guilt and fear tends to sit and fester and make things worse if you don't have anyone. I don't want that for you. I'm sure none of us do.

[groupiedrifter]

[He leans his head back against the door, closing his eyes.

I don't want that for you.]

Guess there's just another a reason to love this crew.

[It doesn't feel deserved, being forgiven. Or worse, being told there's nothing to forgive. But... they'd all be right, if they were talking anyone else but him. He would have forgiven anyone controlled by something outside of their control. He would have, too. It's just...]

I'll make it up to everyone. And I won't just spend my whole life here, uhh... sitting in a dark room, watching Jaws for the tenth time in a row.

I just haven't figured out how to — to start myself back up again.

[callada]

People don't always realize how hard that part is. I spent weeks holed up in my room saying nothing at one point when I was a kid. Wouldn't talk to anyone except a goat.

[People really underestimate the value of goats as therapy animals. It's always dogs for some reason. Nothing like chasing after a goat that's trying to eat your books to get you to come out of hiding.]

Anyway, you'll do better than I did. Just gotta take it one step at a time. The tough part's when you don't really want the attention from everyone even though they're just happy to see that you're okay. Gets easier after you push past that, I think.

[Or maybe that's just him. Maybe he shouldn't assume.]

[groupiedrifter]

... Yeah...

[He says it in a quiet, distracted kind of way... but he hears Rosi. He does.]

I guess it feels wrong that they're happy to see me.

Woe is me, right? Just another thing to, uh. 'Push past', as giant dudes say.

... It'd be cool to have a goat around. I've got paper for days if it needs more fiber in its diet.

[callada]

["As giant dudes say," which makes him smile. Good to hear some of Newt's old energy is still lurking in there beneath the guilt he shouldn't have to carry.]

Yeah. They're good. Smarter than they look. Just gotta keep stuff you want to hold onto out of their reach. Harder than you'd think, since they can climb.

[He misses that goofy creature, he really does. Ah well. He gets out a pack of smokes and his lighter.]

You want a cigarette?

[groupiedrifter]

... I don't know, man. Getting a cigarette means opening this door, and if I open the door, I'll let all the gross depressing clouds out.

[A pause.]

I let it get a little messy, I mean.

... But I am addicted to nicotine. Again. So I'm admittedly pretty close to saying 'screw it' and 'please give me that sweet sweet deathstick'.

[callada]

Up to you. I can just leave some here when I go, if you'd rather.

[But, you know, he is hoping he can get Newton to open the door just a second and poke his head out, just because it's one step closer to him actually leaving the shelter of his room. If he won't, then there's always tomorrow.]

[groupiedrifter]

[There's a long, thoughtful pause on the other end of the door.

Rosinante can probably imagine some little mental war happening in this moment.

And eventually, the door does click — the resounding sound of a lock being undone, just before he slowly opens the metal door and reveals an unkempt man in days-old sweat pants and ratty band t-shirt behind it.]

... Seems kind of rude to make you a no-contact delivery service.

[callada]

[Rosinante smiles and gives a half-shrug as he looks over from where he's sitting by the doorway. He holds out the pack of cigarettes for Newt to take one, then offers the lighter afterward. Unkempt or not, it's still good to see him emerge.

This is why he's here. It's one of the things he's decent at. It's no first aid, but reaching out to those in need and offering them a tiny little bit of hope and comfort is its own method of healing.]

I would've done it, but you're right. This is better.

[groupiedrifter]

[He looks a little anxious, as he reaches out to take the lighter. Maybe right now, that's just his natural state of being. It'll lessen with time... especially once he gets his cigarette lit and smoked (because obviously, cigarettes are magical cure-alls; yep, he doesn't know as a scientist how they're not actually helping, no sir, no way).

Once the cigarette is lit, he looks a touch embarrassed as he finally glances down to Rosinante. He looks left down the hall. Looks right. Like a skittish stray, he slowly slides down to next between the door and his friend, enjoying the unpleasant-pleasant scent of cigarette smoke.]

I don't know, Rosi. Feels like there's way better uses of your time than this.

[callada]

Like what? Getting snapped at for tripping over an infirmary bed? Taking up room in the shooting range when someone else with less experience should be there learning instead?

[Nah, he's good. Having a cigarette with someone who could use the company as much as he can, that's a better idea.]

I'm useful on missions. Not so much around here. I'll go help Clara with inventory later, how's that?

[groupiedrifter]

... I meant more along the lines of personal time where you can do something you'd enjoy way more.

[You motherfuckers are terrible at hobbies and free time. It's why he'd always had those movie nights and parties, before things... happened. Maybe he should do that again; give back in his own way for all the bullshit...

Haaa. As if pizza and popcorn is any kind of band-aid over the wounds he'd literally and metaphorically caused.

He lights up one of the cigarettes, eager for even just the first swirling sample of its scent. Nicotine's a bitch.]

You don't have to be, like... useful all the time.

[Pot and kettle, blah blah blah, but hey! He had freetime! He did hobbies!]

[callada]

[He chuckles at the response. Sounds like something Law would tell him, actually.]

Yeah, well, that's not what I think of when someone mentions having a better use of my time. If I wanted to go read a book or hang out in the common room I'd do that.

[And he does, sometimes. He might be introverted, but he does also enjoy his free time when he has something he wants to do. This just means what he wants to do is exactly what he's doing right now.]

I appreciate the intent, but I guess you're stuck with me at the moment.

[groupiedrifter]

[He snorts a scoff, taking a drag from his cigarette.]

We're all stuck with each other.

... But I guess that's more good than bad, huh? [He drapes his arm across a knee. The other is bouncing, bare foot tapping the smooth tile floor.] ... There're people here who were willing to be stuck with me. They didn't have to be — but I'm still here, so...

[He glances to Rosinante.]

I didn't see as much, once they pushed me further down.

But I could hear you talking. To them. Real pleasant crowd, huh?

[callada]

[Newt seems anxious with that little sequence of rambling. He frowns, then reaches over and sets a large hand on his shoulder. It's not a hug, he doesn't really give those out willy-nilly, but it's something.]

Can't imagine bearing that as long as you did and coming out the other side still mostly yourself. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. Those things... It puts a lot of what you told me before into context. About the monsters under your seas.

[Makes him deeply worried, actually, and not just for Newton.]

[groupiedrifter]

[Newton tenses at the touch, but only for a fleeting moment. There's honestly a great awe and relief when he doesn't think of how disgusting or unwanted the physical contact is — that's what they used to make him feel, and now... now it feels nice. It feels like what he's always really wanted, always had under the veil of their mindgames. It's almost enough to make him tear up; to his credit, there's a sheen in his eyes that is quickly stamped down. No crying over shoulder pats, stupid, is a thought that is very well his own and no one else's.

He reaches up, gives the hand a reassuring pat in return.]

They were supposed to be dead. I guess we... didn't get 'em all.

But Sabriel and the others, they fucked up their mind so bad, they're practically harmless. If they're even still alive past that. And Viv... she said there's a chance that what the others did will carry over into my world.

That I might not have to worry about them being in my head, or capable of hurting anyone ever again.

[That's... the hope, anyway. A hope he's clinging to for dear life.]

[callada]

Good.

[Said firmly, but now that makes him wonder exactly how all that worked. Those things spoke like they were far away, with Newt at the end of a puppet string. That they could reach him here is troubling, but if Sabriel was able to reach that far back - is that just as weird? She obviously has strange abilities, but the only ones he's really seen in person had to do with healing. This is something else.

Questions for her, though, or maybe for Viveca and not for Newt who has suffered enough. It doesn't seem like a good time to delve farther into such a painful, personal topic.]

That means you have plenty of time to move forward. Don't have to worry about them, you can focus on bigger, better things. When you're ready, that is. If that's what you want to do. Right now, you worry about you first.

[groupiedrifter]

Move forward? Easy for you to say, Long Legs; you can take way bigger steps.

[Hey, it's a dumb height joke. Better than nothing, right?

He gestures with the cigarette in hand, offering a slight smile.]

... I appreciate this, though. And for, uh. Keeping me company.

I know I'm kind of a wet blanket right now, but — thanks.

[callada]

[He chuckles at the teasing nickname. Honestly, a quiet, contemplative sit and smoke with someone is more his pace when it comes to company than anything crazy high-energy anyway. Not that he wants Newt to stay subdued like this forever, obviously.]

Don't worry about it. And don't feel like you owe me for it later, either, in case you were thinking of that. I think we're both plenty even by now.