ᴀᴅᴅɪsᴏɴ ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ (
unfavoured) wrote in
station722017-06-13 10:38 pm
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( open ) D47 - D50 // around the station
CHARACTERS: Parker (
unfavoured ) and whoever.
WHERE: The Station; various locations.
WHEN: From D47 and D50, take your pick.
SUMMARY: Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world.
WARNINGS: Technobabble here and there, mention of discomfort and pain, not too gory. Some mention of suicide. Definitely unhappy stuff.
[ The duration of her coma has put a strain on her muscles - most importantly, the stillness of it has allowed the crippling pain to her spine to awaken. Without her caretaker, without someone to know how to relieve the pressure the biowires and metal bones pulling on her flesh and tendons, the EXO-8 inside her is a strain more than an useful shield. There is a reason why they were pulled out of production, after all. It's true that the symbiote could help relieve it, temporarily or not, but by now the older Hosts are aware of her still on-going refusal of joining the Nest, even for a second.
So, she endures. There are painkillers on the medbay, but that's only a temporary solution for a long term problem.
( 01.A ) It's during the evenings that it hurts the most, when she is trying to sleep. When there is no possible position for her to lay down on without feeling like every tendon, every nerve, is being tugged, pulled apart, rewired, adjusted. Without feeling it so fully, the way they pull on skin and tendons to adjust the weight of an overdue reset. She lays awake, changing from fetal position to curled every minute, clenching around herself. She does not sleep in their assigned rooms, instead choosing to sleep anywhere else, which means a late sleeper could walk on her, under the benches of the training wing, head pressed to the floor and shivering, or fallen off the industrial-sized shelves she seems to have taken a liking to in the hangar, gritting her teeth and bracing against the floor, holding in the cries of pain, ragged breath. Unusually unguarded mind sending the painful jolts and torn sensations in the smaller radius around her, even if subdued - it is not the full amount of pain that is being broadcast, but enough to understand that whatever's going on, it's bad.
( 01.B ) And even though she spends nights in restless toss and turn, the lack of sleep is not enough to keep Parker away from the Training Wing. She has been still for too long in her comatose state, and needs this to feel-- useless. Not that it works that well, not with the effort of the physicality of her moves, not with the focus ignoring the pain in her back. It's only a matter of time, then, when she plummets to the floor after a sudden jolt and her hands fail to grab on to the ropes she was climbing on. She falls about six feet, slamming hard to the floor and can't help the cry that leaves her throat, not from the fall but from the tense explosion of muscles in her back, and for a second it almost feels like it's being ripped off of her. Rolling on to her knees, she curls over herself, breathing hard through clenched teeth, raspy sounds turning her throat raw. She curls her fingers into the back of her hair, hunching over herself, and forces her eyes closed as if that would help in focusing controlling the pain.
It does not.
( 01.C ) So when she stops, when she finally stops for a second, she's exhausted but she can't sleep. She lays in the corner of a long, empty corridor, arms crossed over her face and doing her best to not give in to the scream that she wants to let go, biting on the sleeve of her shirt instead with her eyes intensely glaring at the ceiling like it was their fault. God, they could at least let her see the sky. ]
[ It's not likely she will admit to it, but she has now a favourite place aboard the Station. Of course, saying that she has one is pushing a little. Anywhere in this place is less than optimal, but she will concede to the fact that a pool is a good idea. For her, relief. The weightlessness of her body on water lessens the discomfort and pain along her spine, no longer bones but metal and wires, it following the long, surgical scar from the base of her neck down to the small of her back. The provided suit lets some of it visible, was she not floating around with her torso turned up to the ceiling - and with the scar bruises that weren't there before, recent and red, like stretchmarks, darker of serpentine paths of veins that are almost visible.
Bobbing on open water, Parker slowly opens her eyes to the glaring white, feeling the still water disturbed by nearby movement. She sighs, not exactly surprised, and slowly turns her head to the splishy splashy new companion way too close for comfort. ]
Can you not do that about ten feet apart from here?
[ It's not the pool isn't for everyone or whatever, problematic child. ]
[ Of course, if she can't fall asleep, there is always the bending over poitless files and records and try to gather information. She occupies a whole desk for herself, as if doing homework, one hand writing, taking notes on the small notebook once provided by prince with her pencil. She looks over some books, records, whatever, then goes back to scribbling.
She's quiet, very quiet - not in the sense of physical silence, but her mind. She's aware and awake, and so her conscious decision of keeping everything locked away under a barrier from her mind.
Parker only lifts her head when Helen stops directly in front of her, casting her shadow over her papers. ]
You're blocking the light. [ She says irritably, squinting at her. She can't recognize her, but then again, Parker seldom does the effort to meet anyone in the Station. ]
[ She will be easy to find by the pool now more, but that doesn't mean she is any less cranky. Other places are high shelves on the docks, the emptier corridors and, yes, hanging from tall places where people are less likely to bother her. Can often be found reading. ]
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WHERE: The Station; various locations.
WHEN: From D47 and D50, take your pick.
SUMMARY: Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world.
WARNINGS: Technobabble here and there, mention of discomfort and pain, not too gory. Some mention of suicide. Definitely unhappy stuff.
(01.?) ❚❚❚❚❚ When our bodies melt and they will collide
[ The duration of her coma has put a strain on her muscles - most importantly, the stillness of it has allowed the crippling pain to her spine to awaken. Without her caretaker, without someone to know how to relieve the pressure the biowires and metal bones pulling on her flesh and tendons, the EXO-8 inside her is a strain more than an useful shield. There is a reason why they were pulled out of production, after all. It's true that the symbiote could help relieve it, temporarily or not, but by now the older Hosts are aware of her still on-going refusal of joining the Nest, even for a second.
So, she endures. There are painkillers on the medbay, but that's only a temporary solution for a long term problem.
( 01.A ) It's during the evenings that it hurts the most, when she is trying to sleep. When there is no possible position for her to lay down on without feeling like every tendon, every nerve, is being tugged, pulled apart, rewired, adjusted. Without feeling it so fully, the way they pull on skin and tendons to adjust the weight of an overdue reset. She lays awake, changing from fetal position to curled every minute, clenching around herself. She does not sleep in their assigned rooms, instead choosing to sleep anywhere else, which means a late sleeper could walk on her, under the benches of the training wing, head pressed to the floor and shivering, or fallen off the industrial-sized shelves she seems to have taken a liking to in the hangar, gritting her teeth and bracing against the floor, holding in the cries of pain, ragged breath. Unusually unguarded mind sending the painful jolts and torn sensations in the smaller radius around her, even if subdued - it is not the full amount of pain that is being broadcast, but enough to understand that whatever's going on, it's bad.
( 01.B ) And even though she spends nights in restless toss and turn, the lack of sleep is not enough to keep Parker away from the Training Wing. She has been still for too long in her comatose state, and needs this to feel-- useless. Not that it works that well, not with the effort of the physicality of her moves, not with the focus ignoring the pain in her back. It's only a matter of time, then, when she plummets to the floor after a sudden jolt and her hands fail to grab on to the ropes she was climbing on. She falls about six feet, slamming hard to the floor and can't help the cry that leaves her throat, not from the fall but from the tense explosion of muscles in her back, and for a second it almost feels like it's being ripped off of her. Rolling on to her knees, she curls over herself, breathing hard through clenched teeth, raspy sounds turning her throat raw. She curls her fingers into the back of her hair, hunching over herself, and forces her eyes closed as if that would help in focusing controlling the pain.
It does not.
( 01.C ) So when she stops, when she finally stops for a second, she's exhausted but she can't sleep. She lays in the corner of a long, empty corridor, arms crossed over her face and doing her best to not give in to the scream that she wants to let go, biting on the sleeve of her shirt instead with her eyes intensely glaring at the ceiling like it was their fault. God, they could at least let her see the sky. ]
(02) ❚❚❚❚❚ We hear echoes from another galaxy
[ It's not likely she will admit to it, but she has now a favourite place aboard the Station. Of course, saying that she has one is pushing a little. Anywhere in this place is less than optimal, but she will concede to the fact that a pool is a good idea. For her, relief. The weightlessness of her body on water lessens the discomfort and pain along her spine, no longer bones but metal and wires, it following the long, surgical scar from the base of her neck down to the small of her back. The provided suit lets some of it visible, was she not floating around with her torso turned up to the ceiling - and with the scar bruises that weren't there before, recent and red, like stretchmarks, darker of serpentine paths of veins that are almost visible.
Bobbing on open water, Parker slowly opens her eyes to the glaring white, feeling the still water disturbed by nearby movement. She sighs, not exactly surprised, and slowly turns her head to the splishy splashy new companion way too close for comfort. ]
Can you not do that about ten feet apart from here?
[ It's not the pool isn't for everyone or whatever, problematic child. ]
( FOR HELEN M. ) ❚❚❚❚❚ I can hear the sounds but they're all in reverse
[ Of course, if she can't fall asleep, there is always the bending over poitless files and records and try to gather information. She occupies a whole desk for herself, as if doing homework, one hand writing, taking notes on the small notebook once provided by prince with her pencil. She looks over some books, records, whatever, then goes back to scribbling.
She's quiet, very quiet - not in the sense of physical silence, but her mind. She's aware and awake, and so her conscious decision of keeping everything locked away under a barrier from her mind.
Parker only lifts her head when Helen stops directly in front of her, casting her shadow over her papers. ]
You're blocking the light. [ She says irritably, squinting at her. She can't recognize her, but then again, Parker seldom does the effort to meet anyone in the Station. ]
❚❚❚❚❚ WILDCARD.
[ She will be easy to find by the pool now more, but that doesn't mean she is any less cranky. Other places are high shelves on the docks, the emptier corridors and, yes, hanging from tall places where people are less likely to bother her. Can often be found reading. ]
01.A
It gets more uncomfortable the closer she gets.
That doesn't stop her.
Pidge finally spots Parker in the hangar and pulls up short, wincing as she starts to come into range, to the point where an echo of the pain and discomfort is starting to ripple down her spine. ]
Hey-
[ They've spoke all of once or twice, but still. This matters. ]
What's going on? This doesn't feel normal.
no subject
She doesn't hear Pidge or feel her until she speaks. Parker is too involved in her own focus of trying to will her body to stop feeling the pain to do anything else. But when Pidge speaks, the woman on the floor turns her head with effort to see who it is through blurry vision, looking pale and sunken, short hair matted to her forehead and wet at the back of her neck from sweat. ]
Nothing. [ She blatantly lies between ragged breath, turning her face back to the floor, arching over herself at a stronger jolt, not able to put up her barriers as strongly as normal from all that distraction - it explodes through her and ripples violently into Pidge, like a hand of needles grabbing onto tendons and bones and pulling, scratching. ] Go away.
no subject
I'm not gonna do that. You look awful.
[ She frowns, fingers drumming against her knees. ]
I get that you don't like it here - probably don't like any of us - but you can't do this to yourself. It's not... look, let me help. Not because of this stupid thing in our heads but because you need it.
no subject
Curled over herself, Parker presses her face into the floor and winces at another jolt. Her legs draw up tighter into her body and she bends over herself slightly. The fine hair at the back of her neck stands up from static and Pidge would probably be able to feel it too, like someone had rubbed way too many balloons against a carpeted surface. She swallows a nothingness in her throat, and groans. ]
You can't. [ She says between painful breaths. ]
no subject
[ Pidge frowns. Why is Parker so insistent on not accepting anything from anyone? Her few encounters have been brusque and generally limited to an exchange of information. If that. Isolation is one answer to their problems here, but that doesn't seem to really be working out for Parker right now. She leans in a bit closer, fingers tensing as she feels the the tingle of static. Like a mild little shock. ]
What's wrong with you? Are you sick?
[ That's one guess, anyway. ]
no subject
Parker shakes her head, not able to talk for a second, eyes squinting shut. She makes a sound that's between a groan and a painful gasp, mouth hanging open as she tries to focus to push it all back. There's another jolt and she tenses, head to toe, all of her muscles tight, sore, the veins of her neck a little too visible. ]
No. [ She finally answers, gasping raggedly when the jolts alleviates for a second. She looks at Pidge, slightly unfocused, resting her cheek against the cold floor. It's a break from the pain, but one she knows won't last long. ] It's my EXO-- my spine. It's, uh-- [ She stops for air, looking to nowhere as she wipes the sweat of her brow on her arm. ] It's broken.
no subject
At least Parker is talking to her. ]
EXO? Your spine? Is that... some kind of cybernetic?
[ That's what it sounds like, but she doesn't want to flat out guess. ]
Broken how?
no subject
Faulty model.
[ Again, her answers are short and she isn't sure she even wants to give them to anyone, her eyes closing tiredly. ]
I need my caretaker to help with this. But she isn't here.
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02
This is going to get irritating, but she doesn't exactly have a swim-cap. She's only partway through her first lap when Parker speaks up and Asuka drifts to a halt, reaching out to stop herself against the pool wall. ]
What? It's a public pool, isn't it?
no subject
What isn't?
[ She grumbles, still frowning. She gives Asuka a once-over, not recognising her. Another one. Jesus, she wasn't out for that long. This place goes through people faster than superheroes going through celebrity debacles. ]
You swim like you're drowning.
no subject
[ Makes total sense to Asuka. Then she bristles a little at having her form insulted. First of all, how dare you- ]
Look, I don't have a swim-cap. It's not my fault! my form is usually perfect!
[ Being short an eye doesn't really help her either, but she does her best not to mention that. Ever. ]
no subject
Regardless, she gives her a "Sure, Jan" look when she refutes Parker's insult - which she didn't mean as an insult, but everything that comes out of her mouth sounds like one anyway. It's a gift and a curse that nobody wants. ]
Do you think you'll have a swim cap at hand if you get dropped into an ocean or...?
no subject
[ Asuka retorts with a snort, treading water. She didn't ask for swimming advice and she's always managed fine before now. So where does this woman get off? ]
I didn't ask for your advice!
no subject
[ She says, flat-toned and dead eyed. What a floppy swimmer. Just shave your head, Asuka. ]
So-- ten feet away?
no subject
Ten feet away from what? You? Don't float in the middle of the pool, moron.
[ Hostility? Asuka can deal with hostility. That's easy. ]
no subject
Your definition of middle is off. [ Ehn, debatable. ]
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1C NOW WHAT BITCH
Obviously, he's not going to do that, so he ignores the dullness. He can't be certain anyway; it's just an impression, like guessing what the silhouette in the darkness could be, because it's the same thing you always have in the same place you always leave it.
The scream and the jolt of pain, though, that's definitely her. It hurts, but instead of making him recoil, it simply sets into his muscles, like putting on a glove.
Petre smiles, and keeps walking down to the cafeteria.
Symbiotes don't really like to leave anything to chance, despite their hosts not always being aware of it. It's only when Parker finds herself a corner that Petre ends up finding her, still finishing off a pack of potato chips (bacon flavor), the loud crunch of a careless child following his every step.
And stop.
hammer time]What the fuck is up with you?
[ ya fuckin weirdo ]
no subject
Focusing on pushing her barriers up, holding the stronger, the jolt that rips through her breaks through them almost too easily, pulsing across a substantial radius. She groans through clenched teeth and biting sleeves, focuses on not doing anything too taxing. Like telling him to fuck off. ]
No.
[ She means, nothing, go away, fuck off. ]
no subject
[ Sigh! He knew this day would come. Karma and some shit. ]
Gonna try again: did you break your back or something?
no subject
No-- I'm just in pain. [ She says in a ragged voice. ] I'm sure you're enjoying the show.
no subject
Maybe like right now. ]
I guess. People aren't often as pathetic as you are right now.
Need help?
no subject
Fuck off.
[ She says, struggling then to sit up. She needs to walk out of here. If she can walk at all. ]
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I'm pretty late to this, but I finally made it.
It's the quiet that draws her closer, stopping in front of the desk where she sits.
She doesn't apologize, but she does step aside.]
I didn't expect to find anyone else here. I don't believe we've met. [There's a slight pause before she offers her hand.] Helen Magnus.
it's okay, friendo! and apologies for the delay on my part, i totally missed this in my notifs :x
With a sigh, she rubs her eyes with a hand, fingers rolling against the closed eyelids, before pinching her nose tiredly. She looks about as well rested as Christian Bale in The Machinist. ]
I like to keep to myself. [ She offers, before looking up at her again to face a stretched hand. She stares at it and frowns, not making any moves to take it. ] Parker.