( open ) D47 - D50 // around the station

[unfavoured]

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.

(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. ]

Comments

[unfavoured]

[ The hangar isn't necessarily the quietest of places and although it seems like a place that the Prince often walks around to check and double check equipment and others wander in and out to enjoy racing, she still prefers it from the non-silence of the rooms, where there is too much noise of dreams that she doesn't want to share nor see. Still, during whatever is perceived as night, or rather, when most are asleep, it is quiet. It makes a big rackus then, when she falls off the shelf she was hanging off of, like some sort of sleeping monkey.

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.

[greentech]

[ Even if Pidge wasn't psychically linked to Parker, the way that she looks tells her all she needs to know. Parker looks awful and Pidge simply steps forward, ignoring the scathing reply - go away - so she can crouch next to her. This close, she can feel an echo of the pain and it worms its way down into her guts, making her back twitch in sympathy. ]

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.

[unfavoured]

[ Parker looks awful all the time anyway, with the way she is letting depression take over her thoughts and guilt come back full force, but Pidge is right: you don't have to be a keen observer to see that there's something wrong with her.

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. ]

[greentech]

Try me.

[ 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. ]

[unfavoured]

[ If the running thought in her head wasn't an incessant scream of pain, she would probably be thinking she doesn't have time for this shit. But that's all she has here, time. Too much of it, honestly.

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.

[greentech]

[ Pidge is trying to hold back her own sense of the pain. She's only getting an echo of what Parker is, but it still rattles her. There's still an unpleasant ache that seems to stick with her. She grits her teeth and then shakes her head to try and clear it all away. She's not going to let this link distract her. Too much.

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?

[unfavoured]

Yeah. [ Her words are economized for the sake of breathing, a visible action by the way her shoulders rise and fall with effort, chest and throat moving openly with each intake of breath. ]

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.

[greentech]

Faulty model...? And they installed it in you anyway?

[ Pidge feels righteously angry on Parker's behalf. And her own, because she's dealing wit hthe pain feedback that comes out of Parker. She bites at her lip and then nods to herself. She can help with this. Right? ]

Maybe I can take a look. I'm pretty good with technology. Even alien stuff.

[ She shrugs. ]

Can't hurt, right?

[unfavoured]

[ The dry, hollow laugh that comes out of Parker's throat is devoid of humour. Nobody installed anything without her permission. ]

I asked for it. At the time, it was the only way I had to fight back. It was the only solution I had to save my people. I had to do it. [ Or, that is the story she tells. She didn't have to get it. But in her moment of despair and weakness, she did think it was the best thing she could. ] I had to make sure I could-- [ She had to make sure she could protect them, all of them, but in the end, it didn't make a difference at all. In the end, it was pointless. She thinks in a way it's ironically poetic. Now she's stuck with the reminder that not even her best efforts would ever be enough to save anyone. ] --I thought I could keep everyone safe.

[ Her voice falters a little. She didn't mean to say all of that, but maybe she's going truly insane from everything in this place. Lack of control from the pain. But there's more underneath it, and immeasurable guilt that rears its ugly head louder than the pain and she decides it's more important to hide that than to focus on handling it. So she does, and the jolts return. She gasps, cries out, and clenches her hands on her sides. ]

It's not alien. [ Parker spits between gritted teeth. Rude, Pidge. ] And it's inside me. I'm not letting a kid touch that.

[greentech]

I - OK. I understand that. Wanting to keep people safe.

[ She doesn't understand doing it without understanding the risks. Then again, isn't that what she did when she became the paladin for the Green Lion? Except without getting something grafted to her spine, basically. Huh. ]

It just sucks that it's hurting you now...

[ She's never been super touchy-feely but she sort of wants to hug Parker and try to give her some kind of comfort. But she's pretty sure that'll end horribly, so she stays at a marginally safe distance, wincing again when more of those painful jolts rush through her. ]

It's alien to me. [ Pidge snorts. ]

And I've dealt with crazier technology. Just... nothing attached to anyone like this before. That's all. So I think I could help, if you'll let me. Just a look and maybe I can tell you whether I think I can actually handle it or not - I'm not gonna risk crippling you, you know!

[unfavoured]

[ Oh, she knew the risks. She was absolutely sure of them. But one spoke higher than the other, as it always does.

A good call, as Parker isn't a very touchy-feely type of person either. You have to be close to her to do a high-five, so much more for a hug. Not that she probably has any strength to push anyone off of her, but a good call. ]

Again, it's inside me. [ Her breath falters and she makes a strange "urk" like sound like she is going to vomit, but it's just the discomfort of the biowires moving to adjust the weight and pressure of the cybernetic spine. ] There's not much you could do anyway. All my caretaker knew how to apply the right pressure to force a reset.

[ And though she remains in pain, there is part of her that is getting distracted by the conversation Pidge is offering, somehow making it a little easier to deal with it. Not that she will admit it, but hey. Worth mentioning it. ]

[greentech]

Well...

[ Pidge isn't about to give up that easily, now that she's got her mind set on doing something to help. Broodmate or not, she really doesn't want anyone on the crew to be in this kind of pain. She takes a slow breath. ]

Do you remember where she applied... uh... pressure? I can try, at least. It won't make things worse then they already are.

[ Distracting is good. The fact that she's probably taking on some of the pain helps, too. It's not debilitating (yet), but there's some discomfort creeping into her voice and she winces again. Ow. ]

I'm not just going to leave you here on the floor.

[unfavoured]

[ She gives her another "what the heck" look, which is visible even under the way her face is tense with pain and focus from the jolt and pulls in her spine. Maybe she couldn't quite hear what she had said under her heavy breathing. ]

What? [ It's more rhetoric than anything, which she reinstates by adding right after a laboured pause: ] No. You're not doing that.

[ It's weird and she doesn't like people touching her, to the point she would rather endure this than to allow someone to apply pressed on her spine. The fact that Pidge is clearly feeling the jolts too, if muffled by the way Parker represses her link, doesn't add at all. ]

There's nothing you can do. Just go. You're just hurting yourself.

[greentech]

So instead of asking for help or at least trying you're just gonna be miserable. OK.

[ Pidge raises her hands. She knows how this goes. She had a talk like this with her old team. She pushes to her feet and folds her arms, looking distinctly unimpressed. She knew Parker was horrifically isolationist, but still. ]

I can't make you do anything or be a part of a team or whatever. But I think you'd be happier if you actually tried to let people help when they offered it.

[unfavoured]

I'm glad we understand each other.

[ She says offhandedly, and it would probably be more effective if she wasn't sweating and writhing uncomfortably. Parker wipes her forehead again on her arm, staring off into space. She isn't sure of the effects of a prolonged absence of the pressure-induced resets, but she isn't so willing to not to find out as to let people come closer to her. It's a real problem she has and it stems from a mild social anxiety that nobody really talks about, or is even aware of. Her isolation isn't a front to pretend to be a walking "tough guy" trope; while it does fit her less people-inclined persona, it is also a very strong part of the way she is. ]

Oh, please-- Don't assume you know what would make me happy. You don't know me, I don't know you and there's nothing here that would make me happy.

[ Except the pool. The pool is literally the only nice thing. ]

[greentech]

I'm not trying to make you happy.

[ Pidge retorts, voice and expression both rather sour and not at all happy. The echoes of pain that she's feeling aren't helping her mood and she's quickly becoming exasperated with (what seems to her) Parker's refusal to even contemplate asking for help. ]

I'm trying to help you with the fact that your body seems to want to keep punching you in the gut!

[ Pidge... sort of gets wanting to be left alone. But she's also learned that there are people she can turn to for help. ]

[unfavoured]

[ It is exactly what seems to her. Flat out refusal. To be fair, being exasperated with Parker is kind of the staple reaction to anything she does. She deserves it, anyway. It just takes too long to break through her. ]

In the spine. [ She corrects, and it's unsure if it's her attempt on humour or not, but she will never tell. ]

Listen, I'm trying to suppress it, okay? [ She figures that's why she's so insistent on making her stop hurting rather than anything else. It's not judgmental. If there's one thing she can agree it's that nobody has any right to inflict their thoughts and feelings on you, like this place seems to believe it's perfectly acceptable. ] Give me some time.

[greentech]

Are you sure it won't kill you?

[ Because it sure feels painful, even if it's suppressed and a mere echo. She's still not leaving, not yet. She's going to keep pushing. ]

Because I'm not going to leave you alone if it might end up killing you.

[unfavoured]

[ She doesn't really have an answer for that. While this has happen before, the pain, she has never been like this without a forced reset. Would it kill her? It did kill the others, the soldiers with the EXO-8s. Maybe her luck was running out.

She breathes in, breathes out. Maybe she ought to go float in the pool for a while as that helped. ]

Probably not. [ She decides to answer instead, the jolts slowing down only a little, still there, but not as intense. For now, at least. ]

[greentech]

Probably?

[ Pidge's tone indicates just how much salt she's taking that word with. She takes a deep breath. How does she actually get through to someone who seems determined to keep throwing walls in her way? It's not even like Keith - Keith was just sort of awkward. He didn't actively hate everyone around him. ]

What are you going to do if it keeps getting worse?

[unfavoured]

[ Parker gives her a nonchalant shrug. Yes. Probably.

With the jolts lessening, although still present, Parker manages to turn around to lay on her back. Her shirt clings to her body from the cold sweat sticking to her skin. It's too hot and too cold all at once. She makes a weird throaty sound, pulling her shirt up to uncling it from her belly, stomach moving up and down uncomfortably visible from her exertion.

Staring at the ceiling, she flops her forearm over her head, blinking slowly. The lack of answer stretches for quite a while, to the point it seems like she isn't going to give one. But one beat too long and she does: ]

No idea. [ She says, very helpfully. ] Just keep dealing with it.

[greentech]

That's not a solution and you know that.

[ Pidge's voice is flat. There's not really a sense of judgement; just quiet exasperation and irritation. And concern. There's concern too. Still, figures she's got her in her brood. Whatever that means. She settles onto the hangar floor next to Parker again and stretches herself out, head resting on her hands. She's going to wait. ]

...does having someone else around help with the pain?

[unfavoured]

I didn't say it was a solution. I literally said no idea.

[ She says, muffled as her arm flops over her face more. The pain is still there, but not so toe-curling anymore. It's a throbbing, pulsing thing now, but not one that makes her stagger and hard to think. She manages to pull her walls up again, even through the tiredness.

Sighing through her nose, she frowns. That's far too honest and far too complicated for her to dwell on. So, again, she offers a helpful retort: ]

I don't know. [ Closing her eyes, Parker tries to regain a normal breathing pace. ] It's just pain, anyway. I can deal with that.

[ The implication clear: easier to deal with mind-splitting pain than anything else mind-related in this place. ]

[greentech]

Yeah, but it'd be better not to have to deal with it. Right?

[ Pidge, you and your logic. She blows out a breath and glances up at the ceiling. She's still lying there, metal cool against her back. She should leave, but she's reluctant to leave Parker like this. Maybe it's the brood link or maybe it's her innate sense of fair play. ]

I know this whole thing sucks, but we should at least try to be on the same side. Right?

[ It's an olive branch. Sort of. She's still feeling Parker out. They've only talked... what? Once? ]

[unfavoured]

[ There's no argument there. Of course it would be better not to have to deal with it, but the solution to that problem is one she isn't willing to give into. If anything, this place can't budge her from hanging on stubbornly to her morals and her own logic.

Parker frowns again, and this time the arm flops away from her face so she can turn to look at the kid beside her. She stares at her, eyes following Pidge's, as if gauging the seriousness of her statement. There's, again, that too long pause in between Pidge's words and her own, that eventually do come. ]

Should we? And what exactly is this side, Pidge? [ Oh, look. She knows her name. Amazing. Still, she sounds annoyed as she speaks, tired. Part of it from her not-completely recovered pain, part of it because of all that constant turmoil inside her chest. ] Did you choose it? Against-- what other side? Did you look for yourself? Did you see anything else other than what little they've fed us?