[ OPEN ] Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair

[goddamngrenades]

Who| York, Delta, The people they meet
What| Recovering after the Silent Horizon
Where| Training Room, York's Quarters, York's Habitat, etc
When| Post Silent Horizon
Note| Poke me on plurk @thesouthernbelle if you want a specific prompt!
Warnings| Content warning for derealization, remembered gore, self harm (in a specifically marked thread), contemplating the nature of death, canon typical violence, drinking, depression, a short bout of trauma induced digital bigotry.


York

Quarters/Habitat

It's a mess. His head's never been the most orderly place but without that formerly forgiving cool wash of green helping him keep shit in order? It's even more chaotic. Old memories and ghosts tangle up in the most recent mission and he's not talking about it. He's out of medical, he's not on medication and it's finally sunk in that yes- that happened.

Delta did that to him.

Without a way to get around it he withdraws, spending only a short time ferrying food or clothes or whatever from his quarters to his habitat, setting up a small dummy program to tell anyone that comes knocking that he's either not in or not seeing anyone- (stubborn as most of them are it won't WORK but it's...something). If anyone hunts for him in the house, it's dark, door's locked, he's not answering. If they pick the lock? He's curled up on the sofa (bed's too damn soft sometimes), stubble grown out, bottle on the coffee table. One of many.


Training Room

After awhile he tries to get his head back on straight. Tries the whole activity thing in baby steps. Hand to hand, simple parkour platforming- no codes. No little hologram at his left talking to him, no locks. Just him getting used to the new aches and numb patches on his body, getting used to being the thing that drives. To avoiding projectiles without Delta's input. It's-

Well it's rough and he ends up on his ass a few times, but he's getting there.

Delta

Training Room

Delta has been, for the moment, banished from York's graces. As such he keeps his own company in a ten inch tall robotic body given to him by Nita for Valor's day. A most opportune gift. He occupies himself with crafting holographic mazes, puzzles, bits of code. Digital scenarios where he might have been able to fight off the thing that changed him. Where he could ignore her face. It is probably not the most wise, crafting a hologram of Allison, attempting to turn his back on her in any way. It is, in fact, impossible. Yet another failed scenario has him in something of a fugue state, staring at her. Staring at York.


Observation Deck

Like this he is small and limited in his processes by the power of this body- so it's perfect for being made to feel smaller still by lingering on the railing of the observation deck. Watching what it is they fight to protect, what it is York holds most dear. What they will never reach back home. He is quiet, contemplative, devoid of any of York's familiar fidgeting gestures.

Comments

CW: SELF HARM ( For Wash )

[goddamngrenades]

For all that he'd gotten some good out of going to therapy- after his return from the Silent Horizon? He's avoided it as much as possible. The idea of cracking open his head for anyone else to look at, even someone he's now come to trust? Feels like scraping that much more of himself away. York's licking his wounds, he knows that. Knows it isn't healthy.

Doesn't care.

It's still cold and snowing in his environment and he's out- not dressed near as warm as he ought, shivering and staring through the middle distance. Trying to make himself stop feeling the aches, the pains-

The dig of wires burrowing under his skin from the implant. Knotting, tangling, tearing- making him a puppet, making him a prisoner in his own mind-

His hand scrabbles at the implant sight, nails digging in and scraping short, bloody welts as he tries to tear the damn thing out-

[unrecovered]

Given how cold the areas of the hab deck have been recently (because it's winter, and it's easy to forget that on a ship sometimes), Wash has made a side trip to grab a coat before heading down there. York's next on his list of people to check on, and York's never in his room, so this is the best place to start.

He finds York, standing outside in the snow, shivering and-

Oh, that's not good.

"York!" He sprints across the snow and grabs for York's hands, trying to get them away from the back of his neck. "York, stop!"

[goddamngrenades]

Hands on his hands, wires on his skin, in it- he hadn't fought hard enough last time and that won't happen again, it can't have him, can't use him like that a second time he doesn't care how much he has to fight to keep digging in at the base of his skull.

"Get it out-" the same mantra azucar had heard in the prison of green code. Voice a low, desperate whisper he struggles against Wash's grip, digging in all the harder. "Get it out get it out get it out get it out-"

[unrecovered]

It's not working. York's too far caught up in his own head and it's not working-

Wash twists York's arms up behind him and kicks his feet out from under him, essentially tackling him face first into the snow. "York- Taylor. It's over. He's not there."

For Locus

[goddamngrenades]

He's better. Ish. Sorta?

No, he's not, not at all, but this is one demon he's ready to face on his own terms and if Locus is anything at all like York thinks he is? He's hunkered down to be left alone. So.

Much like the last time he visited he comes to Locus' isolated base, guitar on his back, bottle of something strongly alcoholic and resembling of whiskey in his hand. He knocks, because bros knock, because that's what they were. What they might still be.

[agnominal]

He's better too, though 'better' is a low mark to make. Still, he's had enough time to think, and Washington's visit had been...enlightening. On several points. He is a better space for company, at least.

Particularly this company. He hadn't expected him to come knocking again, but he allows him in regardless. As surprises go, this one is at least pleasant.

[goddamngrenades]

Without a word, York offers Locus the bottle of whiskey before taking up the same spot he'd been in before. Not a word, not a single twitch to show fear or resentment or- well. Anything. He'd meant to have this talk before but now? Now it's kinda moot. He's here.

That should be proof enough.

Like any other time he starts picking at the strings, noodling his way back to that low strumming line that always looms whenever Locus is around.

York - Habitat

[leverageintceo]

Parker picks the lock for the same reason most people walk through doors that are left ajar: namely, if the person whose door it is didn't want company, they'd do more to keep it out.

The state of things on the other side of the door earns a sigh. A soft one, because the fact that she's sneaking recreationally is no reason to be sloppy about it. She pads forward into the room and inspects him from outside of grabbing range to verify that he's still breathing. Once reassured that he is, she starts shifting the bottles on the table to make room for her delivery: a small golden-brown teddy bear. It had "get well" and "soon" written on its feet and it came with a bar of chocolate, the latter of which had been the deciding factor between it and all of the other "get well soon" bears.

She keeps most of her attention on York as she moves the bottles though, because he's also professionally sneaky and probably extra twitchy right now. Even the best thief can have a moment of misfortune, and she likes to think that they'd both feel bad if he hurt her on reflex.

[goddamngrenades]

Note to self: Install holographic lock on front door. He hadn't thought he'd have to do more than get your basic loadout on the house because most people look for him in his quarters. But Parker's not most people which is most of the appeal. He'll remind himself of that when the first hitch and slide of movement that registers jars him out of his less than peaceful doze.

He jerks awake, hand under his pillow going tight around- another bottle.

Even like this he knows better than to keep weapons lying around, as much as it'd make him feel better to have them. Still. This one's not empty and that's good enough for him to sag and fumble with the cork. "Parker."

He hasn't seen the bear yet. "M'fine."

[leverageintceo]

Parker freezes when York moves, prepared to launch herself out of the way, but relaxes when he only pulls out another bottle. She regards him thoughtfully for a moment, cocking her head to the side.

"You don't have to be," she says. She leans forward and pushes the bear into a gap between his torso and his arm. "I got you a bear."

Delta - Observation Deck

[the_civilian]

Coincidentally, it's a very similar thought process that has steered Tadashi's feet toward the observation deck. And it's a lifetime (minus six months) of living with a chaotic, robot-engineering little brother that ensures that he spots Delta before he's at risk of accidentally stepping on him.

"Hey," he says amiably, "Delta, right?"

[goddamngrenades]

"That is correct." Delta tips his head back to focus on Tadashi, belatedly remembering that he ought to wave. Some outward sign of greeting to make him more relateable and sociable. It's a stiff gesture, one he is not accustomed to, but he makes it none the less. To not would be impolite.

[the_civilian]

"I don't think we've run into each other yet," Tadashi says, crouching down so that they're closer to eye level. "I'm Tadashi. It's nice to meet you."

He extends a hand, pauses, grimaces awkwardly, and folds his fingers in so that only his index is extended. He's never had to worry about how to shake hands with people that much smaller than him before.

Delta -- Training Room

[littlecousin]

Nita fights holograms a lot. She can hit them as hard as she wants, and they don't criticize her technique, unlike all these soldier-types running around. Whatever her other sterling qualities, no one has ever accused her of being observant, and she might well have sauntered past all 10 inches of Delta on her way to one of the other holographic training rings if there hadn't been a life-sized hologram of another blond woman standing there not doing anything.

That's a weird training scenario, and Nita looks around for whoever left their program running. It takes her a good ten second to notice Delta--she's from a comic book universe and not used to people being shorter than she is, okay?

"Oh hey, Delta. What's up?" Apparently today is weapons day in whatever lackadaisical workout regimen Nita holds to, because she's got a longsword balanced against her shoulder. Because that's a practical thing in which to be proficient.

[goddamngrenades]

The voice comes to him as though through a fog- he doesn't need to shake himself to focus on the present but so much time buried in York's nervous system? Makes it an inherited habit. He peers up at her, cancelling the hologram with a faint twitch of his hand.

he hesitated. Of course he did. He can't not hesitate.

"I am...engaging in what some might call exposure therapy. Attempting to alter my reaction to certain stimuli." Thusfar he's been unsuccessful. "What are you working on today, Nita?"

[littlecousin]

On one hand, Delta's polite and maybe he's just immediately asking her a question to hold up his end of the conversation. On the other hand, that sure was a quick segue, there's no sign of York, and Silent Horizon was a horror show. She has her suspicions, but they can circle back around to it later. It's not like he can outrun her.

"Longsword." Nita pulls the sword of of its scabbard a little to show a few inches of the double-sided blade, which appears to be live steel, not a training weapon. You can get anything on the internet.

Delta - Observation Deck

[legionnpcs]

Babbage never spends much time on the observation deck. Staring at Earth loses its luster when your mind can stretch a second out to an infinity. But he thinks he can understand why others feel the need to. Maybe not the specifics, but the fact that there's an emotional draw.

Normally, he'd give another Legionnaire their privacy. But he never sees Delta solo, never had a chance to talk to him mech-to-mech. That alone is enough to make Babbage wonder, but recalling the debriefings of the Silent Horizon crew is enough to satisfy his curiosity on why that might be. Trauma of some kind, obviously.

Still, this is a rare opportunity, and Delta will find Babbage sidling up to him to stand with his hands clasped behind his back for a few seconds before glancing down. "I was always more impressed with actually being on a planet than watching it from orbit."

[goddamngrenades]

"There is an immediacy to being present that cannot be obtained from distant observation. I believe that to be the way of most things." He shifts to stand on the railing and make the disparity between their heights somewhat less. It is only polite when conversing with someone new- another AI at that.

A robitican, like those they managed to save.

Those the other Legionnaire's managed to save, he corrects himself.

"But viewing things from a distance offers a valuable perspective, scientifically speaking."

[legionnpcs]

"Ah." Scientifically speaking. Of course.

Though it is odd to see an AI crammed into a toy's body speaking about these things. A little disconcerting, honestly.

He's quiet for a moment, resisting the urge to block off his memories of seeing this sight before, the webs of light connecting the massive cities across the planet. "It's peaceful. I'll give it that." He glances down at Delta. "Do you do this often in your free time?"

York - Habitat

[short_changed]

It's not often that Connie's ever seen York really shaken up. The training incident...more like set-up and losing his eye had been rough but he's never gone through anything like what happened on the Silent Horizon. Not while they were in Freelancer. She had meant what she said about them being a team, and for her, that meant making sure he was alright even after the mission was complete.

The notice and the locks once she reaches his house don't deter her. Unslinging the bag she had across her shoulders, she gives the door a soft knock anyway.

"...Taylor? I know you're in there."

A moment. Silence. She sighs, opening her bag to pull out some tools to help her get the lock open.

York - Habitat

[goddamngrenades]

He's fine. Well. he's not FINE but he's not going to subject anyone else to this mess till he's got his head on straight. Which'll be never. Everything's too strange with Delta out of his head but having him in would be intolerable-

Connie knocking actually gives him a moment to think maybe he could just get up and open the door.

Then he rolls over and burrows down in the sofa, waiting it out. She'll get in eventually, he knows that, but he's got like. Maybe five more minutes till he has to talk. Ish.

[short_changed]

The lock takes her a while, in the back of her mind there's the mock-voice of the director saying 'this is why you're not ranked higher, Conneticut', before she pops it open. Hefting the bag back to her shoulder she takes a step into the darkness inside. Her nose scrunches up at the smell of stale booze in the air. Silently she gives the room a long look over, frowning at the number of bottles piled up beside the lump on the sofa and the disarray that was not there the last time she was here.

Shutting the door quietly behind her she sets her bag down by the coffee table, walking past the sofa entirely to poke around York's kitchen until she finds a glass. Filling it up with water she pads back to where the he's laid curled up on the sofa and takes a seat on the arm rest, reaching out to touch what she assumes might be his shoulder- or maybe his head?

"Drink some water."

Delta - Training Room

[short_changed]

There's comfort in routine. Be it on Legion World or with Project Freelancer, the training room is a place everyone ended up sooner or later in the wake of a mission gone poorly. Usually Carolina's the first to hit the floor. In the days before the Leaderboard ruled all, the impromptu sparring matches and exercise drills were a good way to pull the team back together if not work out any tension between Freelancers. Well- it worked most of the time. Reggie and York would always butt heads. They wouldn't ever be perfect memories, but they were precious all the same.

Walking past the training rooms Connie freezes at the familiar face of a woman projected in the space in front of a small robot body. Turning on her heel she steps into the room and closes the door behind her.

"Delta?"

Delta - Training Room

[goddamngrenades]

It takes a moment for her to register- and even then he cannot bring himself to shut down the hologram. It is the woman that defined his existence. The thing that made him possible. That gave the Director his terrible idea. Without her? There would be no him.

And yet he does not know what he feels. What is him and what is Leonard Church's recollections. "Yes, Agent Carolina?"

It's no still image, Allison. A woman standing, tucking her hair behind her ear, peering off into the distance. No words- but there don't need to be any.

[short_changed]

Connie's seen the videos; the spark that lit the inspiration or madness that drove the Director to what he'd done. She's very much interrupting a private moment but she'd been meaning to talk to Delta after they'd gotten away.

"It's just Connie, D. I've been looking for you."

She takes a seat beside him, glancing away from the projection to the little metal figure. It's almost strange how much it suits him.

"Do you mind if I join you?"