ᴀᴅᴅɪsᴏɴ ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇʀ (
unfavoured) wrote in
station722017-06-13 10:38 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
( 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. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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. ]
no subject
Parker thinks he's leaving, or at the very least, doesn't imagine at all that he's about to pick her up as he does. So when it happens, she makes a noise of indignation and confusion at the same time, pushing a hand against his chest. It's not as weak as you would expect it to be. ]
What the--! Put me down!
no subject
[ He had no doubt that her shove wouldn't be weak, but it still makes him laugh to have it confirmed. A grin spreads at her struggle, but his hold only grows steadier and stronger, keeping her in place. He'll absorb all the wrath he can, though. If it makes her more pliable to his Impel... ]
Calm the fuck down. I'm trying to act like a gentleman, here!
no subject
So, instead, she doesn't the next best thing and grabs his nose, pinching hard. ]
Put me dow-- Fuck!
[ The interjection comes from a sudden pain and she arches in his arms, punching his shoulder out of frustration not with him, but with the pain. ]
no subject
He wonders what it's like, that kind of pain going on for seemingly forever. He'd be too quick to heal before sampling it. ]
Stop fucking fighting. Where do I need to take you.
no subject
Ugh, fine. [ She says in effort. ] Just take me to the pool.