station72 | [week of the 46th]

Entry tags:

[week of the 46th]

CHARACTERS: Angel & You!
WHERE: Bearings, Around Concordia
WHEN: From 45 until whenever really.
SUMMARY: Just doing things around the Bearings, tech stuff, lion stuff, angry video gaming. If you want to do something different, just drop me a message, or just go ahead with whatever takes your fancy.
WARNINGS: None to be thought of yet, apart from Borderlands as normal, copious attempts at swearing but failing miserably at them.

360 no scope heatshot

[ She's plugged in yet again. Which is probably done better sitting up? But she doesn't exactly have to use her hands, and nor is she. There's two sets of cords that are snaking around the common room floor, looping discreetly to dodge the coffee table, and follow them from the screen long enough and they reach her head. Plugged in directly to her skull where the metal grates are flipped open to expose the internal ports. The black wire settled that little bit into it seems, her skull. Sure, she's got one hell of a wifi signal, but why bother when she can just plug it straight? Better response time between her brain and her very serious work she is totally doing - ]

Come on, come on, there's like five minutes left in the level.

[ - or not. Where her legs are hooked over the back of the couch and her heads tilted up and backwards to look at the screen. She's playing video games, something with lots of running and shooting and heavy amounts of simulated violence. With her brain, because why the hell not? That's totally a legitimate use of her brain powers, clearly. Well, she seems to be enthralled in it, anyway. Short and shirts and bare feet fiddling over the back of the couch where she's hooked in, she's definitely comfortable right now. Aw how sweet, she's playing with other people too, isn't that nice - ]

6U4RD14N4N631 LOSES.

VICTORY TO YOURMAMA11115.

[ Yeah, never mind. ]

That's bullsh- bull - something!

[ Her upside down face scrunches up in concentration, she doesn't like losing, well, she can handle it, but not at the one thing she's supposed to be the best at, at least. ]

YOURMAMA11115> @6U4RD14N4N631 srry u sukk
YOURMAMA11115> Guess I am just beetar
YOURMAMA11115> come bak wwhen ur up 2 my lvl

[ The words flash up brightly on the screen, flashing big and bold and her face scrunches up, head turning back to the screen to face it properly like she can't quite believe it. Frowning still, letters start typing back in reply without her even moving off the couch. Well maybe that's over with. ]

6U4RD14N4N631> @YOURMAMA11115 rematch or stfu

[ Or not. ]

how to train your lion

[ Up on the roof, Angel takes her lion out to really move around for the first time. After spend whenever she could first - learning how to pull it apart and then put it together just to make sure she knew how it worked, then changing the original wiring to something she preferred, then again to remove oh - certain things, like kill switches, uses of force, and then making sure that absolutely no one could activate it but herself. Then there'd been the pointless customising if only to do nothing but making it look pretty where her fiddling had ruined its paint job.

But it does have a name, now, written in black block printed letters on its side: ᴀɴᴅʀᴏᴄʟᴇs.

But it's done for now. Making sure the lion answers to her, and wordlessly. It's AI as is perfectly serviceable, adjusted bit by bit so her mind didn't destroy it just from a brush, rather, it's weaved with her own. The same bright glow in its eyes as in hers when she's up on the roof. Bright blue and white, shining brightly. Her markings as ever, glowing down her exposed arm. ]

Well, you did alright walking up here with me. [ Good start? Good start. ] Okay, let's see how you go with the basics first...

[ It's big enough beside her, easily come up to her chest height. Her fingers wave, calculated expression as she watches it move. Knitted together brows as it walks where she bids it. There's a strength to its movements. Timed right. Good, she hadn't messed up those calibrations either, the next breath comes easier.

Soundless, just a thought and intention, her fingers curl to gesture it forward as she steps back. Letting it walk one step, then another. It's metallic tail flicking back and forth around its legs. Not quite as smooth as a real one, the little metal plates sliding perfectly as they were designed to. She keeps walking back. Fingers still held up, but she keeps her normal sphere of white light out of it - didn't know who was watching, didn't want to risk anything.

It gets faster until she's moving in a long stride, backwards jog and Androcles is keeping up with her easily at a steady trot. It's long steps are easily keeping up with her shorter ones.

Riiiight up until she forgets that running backwards is a stupid idea, and she drips over an uneven crack in the floor and falls flat on her butt. The lion stops, and nervously, it begins to press in close with its nose into her hair, checking if she's alright. ]

smol tries to be somewhat less smol

[ After that, however, and at any point, she is attempting her best with her training outside of just Lexa and Ren's encouragement. Because if Parker's hitting had taught her anything, it was that she didn't like being caught off guard like that. She refused to just sulk over it, either.

Instead, she forced herself through the motions. The same repetitions: strikes, blocks, staff in hand and her lion sitting nearby, - she's growing attached to it - but just with its head in its pause in an idle pose for now. She just keeps pushing herself - clumsily, but still, consistently, through it. Inevitable that she messes up, of course, cursing to herself in a cut off kind of way. Motherducking skag sucking son of a - witch.

If she finds company however, she'd rather it be participating than just being watched be - not very good at it. So she smiles, waving hello: ] Hey, did you want to join? Promise it's impossible for me to hit you, trust me.

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[ There is no doubt Angel is better at the telepathy thing than Parker is, but given as she is not pushing, she manages to block it. A whisper gone the moment it tries to slip in and it's something she is learning to be as strong as possible. Concealing her mind and even her presence. But Angel seems to have learned not to push Parker and her mind. Even with the advantage of a mechanical lion by her side, she can bet that Parker would have the same reaction if she did. She never was one to be against an unfair fight (even if unfair for her),

Wiping her face on her arm, pinkish and hair curling odd in places from all the running around, Parker keeps her eyes on Angel for a while longer. As if the silence was enough of an answer. To be fair, her posture is defensive enough without even crossing her arms and keeping straight. But it becomes apparent very quickly that Angel is not moving, still sitting on the floor with the lion like some sort of security blanket. Parker frowns and sighs, gesturing lazily with a hand towards the door. ]

Can't you go do that somewhere else?

[ She doesn't mind being around people. Why can't she go and be around people? She doesn't own the roof, that would be ridiculous, but if she needs to practice or keep quiet, this is the best place to be at times. Certainly not a common training room where more often than not there are people around.

Hard to get a break around here. ]

There's plenty of space in the common room to fall down. And people to help you up.

[ Like some accusation that doesn't make much sense (or, wouldn't, for anyone else, she's sure Angel understands what she means, even if she keeps her tone straight and neutral). ]

[ She's still not looking, still not getting up the floor - so what, maybe she likes it down here. Though she bristles. Digs deeper than Parker quite probably expects. ]

I don't need anyone to help me up.

[ Bites it quick. Then soothes herself, she's perfectly fine looking after herself. Even if she's a wreck of withdrawals on any given day, even if she's small and scared and not able to know what to do with getting punched. ]

But oh yes, definitely, have a tonne of steel and machinery jumping around all those people and breakable objects is definitely a good idea. I can see why I would stay down there, absolutely.

[ Sarcasm, from her? Never. ]

Edited 2016-10-21 15:09 (UTC)

[ No, she doesn't think it digs as deep as it shows, the way she answers sharply and she can see the little signs, the tenser shoulders. Parker is quiet and tends to keep her distance from people, but she knows how to read annoyance when she sees it. But she doesn't say anything for it, instead just staring at her from her spot.

She slowly turns her eyes to the thing near her with a raised eyebrow, before turning again to Angel. ]

Well, if you can't control it, then don't use it.

[ She wouldn't give a gun to a four-years old kid. Why would a person that doesn't know how to use a weapon should have one? ]

Whatever. Just keep your falling on your ass in that corner.

[ She doesn't want to interrupt her training over this, so she turns her back to her to drop on her hands and pull her legs up extremely slowly-- all her strength keeping her in perfect balance with minimum wobble, and holding the handstand for a while before she starts to walk on her hands. ]

[ Snaps quick, sharp, back stiff. ]

I didn't say I couldn't, I said -

[ She bites her tongue, presses her forehead against the lion that is still staring, staring, staring - all bright blue eyes. Her fingers stay on it, and she probably should just get back to it.

But something curls so unhappily in her stomach when she watches Parker move herself with such ease. Knew the strength in her limbs, felt them when she'd snapped against her jaw as quick as she had. Strong, far stronger than anything Angel could do in response and the burgeoning feeling that is somewhere between unhinged adoration and envy works up into her throat. It's enough that the Lion feels it, tugs against its programming and pressed back into her and she takes it as a hint that she doesn't need to pay attention to whatever is coming out of Parker's mouth. She had a performance to work out, so she'd start there. Parker could just - keep it to herself.

She could be in control, she was nothing if not in control, she hissed ugly to the depths of herself. Parker was still breathing after all. ]

Whatever.

[ She pulls herself up, on her knees, sweeping her fingers back to let the Lion step back from her and prepares itself. Basic programming she'd given him to simple tricks. Once she's standing, she gestures it up, and it brings itself up to stand on its hind legs - catching its front paws on her hands when she offers them up to balance it.

It's ridiculous, really, the thing is much bigger than she is, as she begins to step backwards and it walks with her. Momentarily, Parker is forgotten, and she's beaming happily at it. ]

[ If she was a better person, or rather, if she liked Angel at all, Parker could probably tell her to try and try again. If she was her friend, Parker would also remind her that she didn't get to this by not trying. She didn't get to be able to jump from roof to roof without taking a handful of falls, because that's how you learn - not just by falling, but picking yourself back up, and once you are comfortable, you push on to more, harder. It's why she ends up overworking herself. A good thing as far as she's concerned, especially here, helps her take her mind off her thoughts. But then there are the signs of it. The scuffed knees, the stretches of skin, visible now as the tank top slips a little lower given as she's upside down on her handstand, that are filled with bruises and scratches. But she isn't her friend and she doesn't like her (she might be one of the few people she actively dislikes rather than ignores).

So instead, Parker turns her back to her and keeps on with her own exercise. Not that she really wants the back turned to her, but she isn't staying idle. Parker lets her weight drop forward, almost like she was made out of rubber, pulling herself up, and then down again, a smooth, continuous motion, back to a handstand by bending backwards and pulling her legs up, and then back to her feet. Every other turn, the tank slips so that her back is visible and there are glimpses of scratches and bruises - and along her spine, the long, precise scar like from a surgery.

She takes a small break when she's back on her feet, wiping her face on her tank top. She holds it to her face as her eyes catch glimpse of whatever Angel is doing with the robot and rolls her eyes. How pointless are these people? ]

You seriously can't go play inside?

[ She can't help to say, the grimace of mockery and annoyance half hidden by her tank top pulled over her chin, sweat dripping making her skin half glistening. ]

[ Really, she needs to learn how to handle this - in some better, more emotionally mature way.

But right now, she's ignoring her, and she's doing a marvellous job of it - just like they'd agreed. Enthralled happily in the soft coos she's giving her lion, and Parker - can just stay over there. Being everything Angel most certainly isn't apparently.

( grit teeth, low hiss, the curl of power in her fists she knows isn't enough if there's nothing else to go behind it ). ]

Can't you just keep to your word and just stay over there and be quiet? I'm busy.

[ Bites without looking, words tossed over her shoulder as she walks her lion another step forwards. ]

[ It looks absolutely pointless. And Parker makes no effort in concealing the expression that washes over her face when Angel says she's busy. One long look, before her lip and nose curls and her eyebrows frown in such a way that lines crinkle her forehead. It looks like a mocking expression, if it wasn't so convincingly and openly offended. Like Angel is the one mocking her. ]

You're busy? [ She eyeballs her, head to toe. ] You're playing around with a robot. [ Almost the same tone of telling off a child to not to lie.

Then again, Parker doesn't really specialize in technology. She is not completely tech-dumb, but she doesn't exactly build computers. She knows just as much as anyone her age does, more intuitive familiarity than anything else. Still, she can't seem to be impressed by a robot with artificial intelligence - to be fair, she does come from a world with advanced technology.

It could also be the fact it's Angel and not anyone else. ]

[ She snaps, sharp, it's one second when she's still, messing about happily with her robot, and the next that it's gone, completely. She and the robot move in one smooth motion, the white lines on her body pulsing with light and the air around her crackling with it.

Her hand flicks, the lion moves, and their eyes are blue, blue, blue, as she rolls her body into the fighting stance Ren beats into her over and over again. Lilith and Steele and Maya in the back echoes, the sirens that came before them and in an extension of herself, a tonne of steel and moving parts and a roar of a lion's mouth bears down on Parker, landing heavily on her to pin her down to the ground. ] And you're arrogant.

[ She comes closer, then, eyes down on her. Frowning behind the curtain of black hair that curls under her chin. ] Are you done? [ And on cue, the lion's mouth opens that little bit wider, a mouthful of metal teeth and a heaviness that says it might not need to eat meat like a lion should, but it could rip her throat out just as easily, regardless. ]

[ Parker just stares at her when she snaps, narrowing her eyes as they turn. She doesn't flinch with the pulsing lights, but it does add on the checklist of things to dislike about Angel. It's a growing one. Which only grows more when she catches a glimpse of her flick of the wrist and the robot moves. There's a second of hesitation. Because certainly she isn't going to--

--Shit, she is. What the hell?! Are you fucking serious? Why is there no-one around when these overreactions occur?

Parker moves, fast, countering the pounce from the mechanical lion, but it's still a lion so it's not nearly fast enough when it turns around and pounces again.

It lands heavy on her and the concrete ground is hard against her back and head as she hits it unkindly, a choked grunt. But on her hand she's holding a gun and she has it pointed at Angel's head. ]

Get this off me. [ She demands, cold, cuts clean through the air. Doesn't have to say more, her eyes locking onto Angel's, jaw clenched drawing lines under her skin. She doesn't pay mind to the lion, and that's another unspoken word. She doesn't believe Angel capable of letting it touch her more than it already is. But Parker has no qualms in shooting her if she even senses that she is at risk of losing a limb. ] Now.

Edited (wrong icon) 2016-10-27 01:50 (UTC)

[ She blinks the once, as the gun is pointed at her, a vague consideration to it before she looks back to Parker. ]

What are you going to do? Shoot me?

[ Her eyes roll, her body shifts and completely unperturbed, she walks closer to her. ] We both know you don't like dealing with your own mess, no matter how bad one you make.

[ The lion doesn't move, it's jaw opens, and Angel comes to stand next to her, her hands glowing and the light pouring off her, even if it's hidden behind her clothes she'd put on to train in. ] So am I still just playing Parker, or do we need to keep having this conversation?

[ Whatever she's going on about, it clearly doesn't click with Parker by the face she makes. What the hell is she talking about, doesn't clear up her own messes? That's literally all she does - unfortunately, they have very different views of seeing what "dealing" means.

The finger pulls back the trigger when Angel pushes her on. Parker doesn't point a gun without meaning it. It should be answer enough. ]

Don't make empty threats.

[ She says in a neutral voice, like prodding at her. Mocking. She doesn't believe for a second that Angel would kill her. For two simple reasons: both because Parker firmly believes she needs others to do her dirty deeds, and above all, because she has an image to preserve. Not that it would shatter much with Parker's death, truth be told, considering the amount of people that actively dislike her and enjoy making accusations behind her back. But it would still crack some of it.

The lion doesn't move, she quickly pulls the gun on it and empties the click on it. Enough to get it staggering to slip out from under it quickly, like a slippery fish. Makes it look easy, but puts all of her flexibility and strength on it. She keeps a distance, then, legs slightly bent at the knee to leap back if necessary. ]

I know your type. [ Parker keeps her eyes on hers, almost unblinking. ] You're an actress. A performer. You got everyone buying into it, didn't you? [ And she doesn't say it, but it carries through. Everyone else. The you people in every sentence of hers. Not her.

And she knows it is the reason why she can push her buttons. ]

[ She is - and it stings, things she didn't want to be. Her face turns away, not even bothered that she can't see what Parker's doing, that there would be more challenge to keep the contact and no doubt Parker will gloat on that too. Besides, matters little when she's the eyes of the lion, the security camera on the roof she knocked out when they first arrived.

For one moment, the words strike truer than she wants them too and like a fist shoved into an old wound, she whimpers something ugly like the child being forced to say to words she doesn't want to. It batters loud in her mind and across the hum of the hive. A voice, loud and gruff and demanding and she has no choice but to obey, she always does. ( Shut up, Angel. I said do what I tell you too. Tell them, I said tell them that - )

Because Parker is right. She is a performer, but if Parker is wrong about one thing, it's that she doesn't love them in return, that it's only about using them. That she doesn't care for all of them. Care for them enough that she knows that she's burden enough as she is. She is a weak body, empty shell of a person that some far off God of an ancient civilisation she bears the ruins all over forgot about. Tasting empty light on a sick body. ]

You have no idea. But since you've got it all figured out. I guess that means we don't have to talk anymore. [ Bites, ugly bitter - and suddenly everything Parker is irrelevant. It has nothing at all to do with her.

And the one person she hates is the one person it always comes back to. ( Angel! Do what you're told - )

She calls the lion back to her in a beckoning gesture. She'll have to fix its dents now, or maybe she wants to leave them. What was gunfire to anything she knew, anyway? ]

[ It is ridiculous, the wrongness each one has about one another, and yet hit so close to true every once in a while. But the difference is, Angel bares her heart to others because she has starved for too long. Parker keeps hers away because it would break far too easily.

And yet, the image others have of her - of them - is removed from the truth as much as they want it to be, for entirely different reasons. ]

Yeah, you want to say that looking at me? [ She is quick to reply-- because just as much as Parker can rub salt into hidden open wounds, Angel's presence leaves her feeling raw and twisted inside. Because it frustrates her, more than she will ever admit. It claws at a very hidden part of her, in the back of her ribcage, hidden behind her heart.

But she doesn't say anything else about it, instead just straightening up, back and shoulders rolled and tense. Keeps her eyes on her as she spits her words out, tilting her chin up. Jaw clenched, fingers curling into the red palms, scratched and bruised and calloused. ]

Good, because I'm tired of listening to bullshit.

[ The lion comes back to her, uninjured for the most part, if heavily dented, favouring its front leg. It presses its face into the top of her leg, looking for concern for its state and obediently, she gives it. Her fingers running across its metal head with her unmarked hand. As soft as she ever touches anything.

So she gives her what she wants, she looks up at her, eyes that are bright - no, not just that they are blue. But they are bright a light behind them that's seeing into something in the dark. She wants something honest then fine. What she is, in all honesty, everything else - it has only ever been this. She will die because of this, she will live because of this. ]

Then one performer to another? To hell with me, if that's what you want. Stop punishing them for making the same choice you did, for choosing to fight. Not because they're your brood. But they're stuck here just like you. One of them is a kid. It's cruel just so you can protect yourself. You're hurting them, and worse than that, you're making them weaker, and it won't save you the guilt when they die and you could have done something.

[ Don't kill the guard. If there's more proof that she's concerned about the well-being of others, then Angel doesn't know it. ] Or at least, it didn't save me any.

[ Maybe that's why she can't stand her. No, they're not the same, but they are so similar. Parker - and the denial, the refusal, the pain that they suffer together when they want to.

The hole in her chest that has never been filled since the day he died. ]

[ The sudden flicker of light in her eyes doesn't quite catch her off guard as it confirms previous suspicions. Parker grimaces an unamused smile, lips parting slightly as she keeps her eyes on her. It doesn't matter where you come from. Someone gives you some shitty super power and suddenly you're all above everyone-- if you ask her, of course.

It doesn't surprise her that Angel is one of them.

Parker tilts her head, slight frown. A performer. She doesn't say anything, but her expression should be enough: she definitely is not one. She shows her fangs, bares her teeth, turns her knuckles. It doesn't alleviate as her words go on and she ends up actually tugging at the corner of her lips in a mockness of a smile, crossing her arms over her chest with her hip slightly to the side. ]

Didn't you just say we didn't have to talk anymore? [ Parker says at the end of her words, riding on the last one. Not brusque or shouting, but in clear rejection of her assessment with an unwavering expression of neutrality - of wry boredom. ] Do you actually believe the bullshit that comes out of your mouth? Does it make you feel better if you do?

And they're not my brood. [ She says the word with disgust, disdain. They are an imposition. She made a decision she regrets, true, and she doesn't blame anyone but herself for it - even if everyone seems to believe otherwise, although she never once said any of them are to blame for her being here, and she would never. The only people she would blame, beside herself, are the two assholes everyone seems to want to become best friends with up above somewhere in the spaceship. ] They're not my responsibility. Much less anyone I care for. I don't care if there's a kid. But I get it. You need someone to blame on. Whatever.

[ She's so used to it by now that it doesn't phase her. Everyone likes to speak shit about her in her back, she knows, she doesn't need a connection for that, but it doesn't affect her. On the other hand, Parker keeps to herself. If she has a problem with someone, she tells them to their face. She doesn't hold back her punches (metaphorically and literally, apparently). She doesn't go out of her way to talk shit and warn people of others. Everyone else has decided she's the villain for slamming on the breaks on this insanity. Parker doesn't care to object to it. Whatever makes them feel better. She is done with these people and their inability to see how crazy all of this is. ]

Do whatever you want. Just don't forget that whatever you think you have that connects you to these people, it's not yours. It doesn't come from them. It comes from something they did to you. But, you know what, believe whatever you want to. It's your right to be wrong.

[ It might be the longest she has spoken so far. And it seems she has had enough, as Parker walks over to the edge of the building, back turned to Angel, eyes looking for a path to follow. ]

Go run back to one of your idiots. I'm sure they'll listen to you.

[ Too tired for this, her eyes roll, her body shifts. The lion curls around her legs, patient, waiting.

Because she's supposed to try, isn't she? Even if this understanding comes from a mouth full of barbs. Hissing through the back of her teeth in ugliness. Flat, clinical behind the eyes her head tilts, the black hair sweeping back to expose more of her face. The hard set of her mouth as her teeth worry. ]

Was it a paradise where you came from? Is that why you act like we're so much less than you?

[ Parker is still looking over to the edge when Angel speaks. She walks a little to the side, a critical expression in her face. It doesn't seem that she even listens to what Angel has to say. She stops in a seemingly random spot. ]

Do I?

[ Parker looks over her shoulder with slightly narrowed eyes, lip thin. She doesn't seem bothered by her words-- she isn't, not at all. The less they know about her, the better. Clearly everyone has decided she is the villain in this story. She doesn't mind being the monster most people are looking for. She has long learnt people need monsters.

Monsters however, tend to help people see the truth. ]

Does it matter?

[ She leans down like she isn't watching her still, to her lion. Coming down nose to nose with it, sweeping up its neck in framing set hands it eagerly presses back, against her cheek, her neck, seeking affection that she readily bestows. ]

Up until you stop blaming the rest of us for the fact you said yes like the rest of us? Yeah. You're risking our lives, with your pointless vendetta.

[ Her expression doesn't change as she keeps her eyes on her. All she does is tilt her head slightly, quick narrowing of her eyes, before arching her eyebrows in some small amount of condescension. ]

You people enjoy your own lies, don't you?

[ She wonders, really, where did all these people ever heard her blaming them for anything other than being sheep to a will that is not their own. She wonders where they get these ideas that she finds herself a victim. Not that she tends to convey her emotions very well, a rock might do a better job-- but she supposes the blind will not see what they can't.

Parker stops looking at her then, climbing on to the edge of the building. She reaches down then, with her hands, gripping at it before pushing her legs up - slowly. An effort for it, even if she makes it look smooth, but her muscles strain slightly, though her arms keep (mostly) still. ]

If any of you dies, it's just because you're stupid enough to play in to their games without any strategy. [ She walks on her hands closer to the edge. ] Don't discard your guilt on others.

[ And there's only a split second of her before she pushes herself on her arms, up, and then back, free-falling (or so it seems) to the floor below. ]

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[week of the 46th]

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