Asuka Langley Soryu (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
redheadcarrier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
station722018-01-11 02:32 pm
redheadcarrier) wrote in station722018-01-11 02:32 pm
[OPEN]
CHARACTERS: Asuka & YOU
WHERE: The Red Coast
WHEN: DAY :034 - :036
SUMMARY: A catch-all for Asuka's Red Coast shenanigans.
WARNINGS: None, yet.
Sail Away
Asuka's never really been on a ship before, unless you counted her trip to Japan. And even then, those were "modern" ships and she'd been a passenger. Learning how to operate one that ran on wind power and that had ropes and knots and sails was something entirely different. The sailors were pleasant enough and she seemd at home with a harpoon (funnily enough), so a lot of her time is spent scrambling over the small boats, tugging on ropes and figuring out how to make them go.
It's actually kind of fun. It keeps her head and hands busy and off of he losses she's been dealing with Lavellan first, now Seviilia. She's distracted. Which explains why she accidentally lets a boom go and the sail catches the wind, hurling the boom around in a swinging arc.
"Hey, look out-!"
Market Square
She tries to keep herself busy. That means wandering out into the seaside market from time to time to see what they have and to poke at the weird and interesting objects that show up. Some of it is handmade jewelry or knick-knacks and some of it is food. The influx of visitors is a bit of boon for these people, in all likelyhood, but Asuka generally prides herself on not being your stereotypical tourist (even if she tends to be, sometimes). Since she can't go swimming, window-shopping is basically one of the few things she can do that will get her out of her room right now - and she can't t rain herself 24/7, as much as she'd sometimes like to. Driving herself to higher heights of "excellence" in the name of purging her own memory and past failures through physical pain.
But the body can't keep that up, so here she is, picking her way through a few curious items. She plucks something from the table to examine it while the shopkeeper murmurs at her - telling her it's not that expensive and she really ought to try it. It's a bracelet, of seashells and small stones, stained red by the sea or polished to a bright white. She's still considering it, the sensation of thought echoing through her link.
Blood. Does she really want that reminder?
Wild Card
You know what to do.
WHERE: The Red Coast
WHEN: DAY :034 - :036
SUMMARY: A catch-all for Asuka's Red Coast shenanigans.
WARNINGS: None, yet.
Sail Away
Asuka's never really been on a ship before, unless you counted her trip to Japan. And even then, those were "modern" ships and she'd been a passenger. Learning how to operate one that ran on wind power and that had ropes and knots and sails was something entirely different. The sailors were pleasant enough and she seemd at home with a harpoon (funnily enough), so a lot of her time is spent scrambling over the small boats, tugging on ropes and figuring out how to make them go.
It's actually kind of fun. It keeps her head and hands busy and off of he losses she's been dealing with Lavellan first, now Seviilia. She's distracted. Which explains why she accidentally lets a boom go and the sail catches the wind, hurling the boom around in a swinging arc.
"Hey, look out-!"
Market Square
She tries to keep herself busy. That means wandering out into the seaside market from time to time to see what they have and to poke at the weird and interesting objects that show up. Some of it is handmade jewelry or knick-knacks and some of it is food. The influx of visitors is a bit of boon for these people, in all likelyhood, but Asuka generally prides herself on not being your stereotypical tourist (even if she tends to be, sometimes). Since she can't go swimming, window-shopping is basically one of the few things she can do that will get her out of her room right now - and she can't t rain herself 24/7, as much as she'd sometimes like to. Driving herself to higher heights of "excellence" in the name of purging her own memory and past failures through physical pain.
But the body can't keep that up, so here she is, picking her way through a few curious items. She plucks something from the table to examine it while the shopkeeper murmurs at her - telling her it's not that expensive and she really ought to try it. It's a bracelet, of seashells and small stones, stained red by the sea or polished to a bright white. She's still considering it, the sensation of thought echoing through her link.
Blood. Does she really want that reminder?
Wild Card
You know what to do.
market;
Perhaps some of that desperation is what draws him to Asuka, like sensing like, the symbiotes enjoying the symmetry and overlap of their emotions. It's definitely not because he wants to buy anything.
She's looking at a bracelet. He doesn't know anything about jewellery, thinks it's kind of pointless, so he doesn't really have an opinion. Runs a gloved hand over some other tchotchke instead, a curled fish carved out of stone, with a hole drilled through for a chain. "Hey."
no subject
"Oh, hey."
There's a slightly awkward silence. What's he want?
"Find anything interesting?"
She makes it a bit more awkward by attempting small-talk.
no subject
"Are you buying that?" he asks of the bracelet, at least making an attempt.
no subject
"Yeah, actually. I like it."
She slaps down a handful of coins and waits for her change.
"I like the color," she explains after a moment. It sounds a bit lame. And still feels awkward.
no subject
Like blood — so yes, he thinks it too.
At least now she's bought something they can move away from the stall owner. There isn't much of a crowd but it parts for them anyway: their group has come to be known as a mixed mercurial bunch, difficult to tell apart and given to stranger ways, so even the locals see their robes and veils and give them leeway. Though they also mean he can't suggest grabbing something from one of the food vendors unless they want to navigate eating while dressed like this.
"I really want something to happen," he says, looking off towards the ocean, where the boats are being built.
no subject
"Dull," she finishes, as if answering to his second statement instead of the first. She frowns under her veil.
"I feel like it's been too long, but - we only just got here, right? this better not go wrong again..."
no subject
But in all seriousness, Elliot shrugs. "I just don't get what the point is, how our stay here is going to mean anything to the outcome. We're supposed to be on a pilgrimage, not hanging out in some village."
There isn't a lot of anger in his voice or anything, it's not loud, or even all that emphatic. But it's obvious he's as irritated he was back at the party after the last hunt when he first arrived, tired of the robes and the lack of environmental stimulation, the expectation of an outdoorsiness he just hasn't been able to cultivate.
"The only thing to do here is make stuff and buy stuff."
no subject
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I want to do something - not wait around for something to happen. I feel like that's all we do as a crew - react rather than make things happen. That's the worst possible thing to do, right? We shouldn't just react to the enemy - we should make them react to us!"
She makes a little 'hmph' noise at the back of her throat and, as they walk, springs up onto a low wall, balancing on it as she walks. She's acting very much the teenager here.
"I don't get the people they put in charge."
She also hasn't talked to them.
no subject
He'll probably feel bad about saying that when Keya dies. Probably.
no subject
She throws her hands up and then dismounts from the wall with a light-footed hop, hop-skipping a few steps before settling back into her walk. She's somewhere between a child and an adult, still figuring out who she is and what she wants to be.
"More of us are going to die if we just keep waiting."
no subject
He's still not sure if he really believes that, but it is exactly the kind of thing that would make him angry back home, big companies treating their workers as disposable rather than utilizing them individually, the disgusting environment that created as everyone struggled to reach the top of that ladder, using their coworkers as the rungs. So mostly it's habit, to believe that the higher up, from Rhan to Cathaway, don't have his, any of their, best interests at heart.
Still, he seems kind of resigned to it. "If dying's what it takes to stop The- Them--" (Amost says The Enemy aloud, catches himself - even alone that might be better kept to mental links) "Then I'll die."
no subject
She chases those thoughts away and tries to squash them flat. She's not going back to that, she won't let herself. She can't. She won't be a doll, she won't make herself into an object. And she won't try to die again. She doesn't want to die.
"I'm not going to die. I'm going to live. Die if you want, but I'm not."
Flashes of memories. Pain and thought and anger.
"...I already died once."
The words come out low and quiet, as if saying it too loud will make it come true again.
no subject
"Shit," he says aloud at that little revelation. Every time he finds out something new about her it's something shitty, and it's hard not to feel pity. But his own life wasn't that great, and hadn't he taken a bullet before showing up here? So maybe it's empathy instead.
His hand twitches as he considers putting it on her shoulder, doesn't. But he's still agitated with concern. "That sucks. I didn't know that could happen." Pulling people from death, he means. Maybe that's what happened to him, too.
no subject
"It was... weird," she replies, not particularly wanting to linger on it or explain it in depth. Too many bad memories.
"Let's leave it at that."
no subject
"I got shot. Right here." He touches his abdomen lightly. "Dunno if I would have survived if it wasn't for Cathaway. So." He gets that it's weird. But he's also not... a second chance hasn't made him any more passionate for living.
Man this conversation is morbid. He stops them both suddenly, hand out, and sniffs the air through his robes. "Someone's cooking something." And it smells good. If they can track down that stall, Elliot might actually buy something.
no subject
Or love herself at all.
She's about to say something else when he changes the subject and she's honestly happy that he does.
"Are you hungry? We could probably find something to eat."
no subject
"My treat," he adds, since if they're hanging out he might as well buy it. Not that he's really totally sure how the heck currency here works but let's assumed he's managed to get his hands on some at some point. "You good with meat? Gluten?"
no subject
Weird how that works.
"And yeah, I'm good with all of that. Meat's fine, so's gluten. Actually - meat would be awesome. It's so expensive - well. It was expensive."
no subject
Anyway, he kind of laughs when he says it, and leads them towards the food, which is decidedly not that kind of expensive. Though it's mostly seared meat and vegetables on sticks, like shish-kabobs his grandma used to make when he was little, on the rare occasions he saw her. Some vividly blue tuber mashed and fried that is probably the closest they're going to get to fries here, and was definitely what he was smelling.
"Get whatever you want," Elliot says, making his own order. He has no idea how the fuck they're gonna eat with the veils but he thinks he can figure it out.
no subject
Still, not something to dwell on when they're getting food. The greasy meat and vegetables remind her of the food she shared with Clarke in her tent last week and it's a pleasant, deeply appetizing aroma. She snags a kabob and a round sort of flatbread to bo with it. IT odubles as a napkin and she juggles the hot food from hand-to-hand. Even through the gloves, it's piping hot!
"You're my new favorite," she teases as she glances up at him.
And here she has no idea what he even looks like.