Thad Thawne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mirror_soldier) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2016-02-14 09:47 pm
mirror_soldier) wrote in legionworld2016-02-14 09:47 pm
Entry tags:
Another head hangs lowly
Who| Thad and anyone
What| A new arrival being lonely without his AI buddy and finally giving into socializing. Kind of.
Where| Various sections of the Habitat deck. You can feel free to tag him in his own section of the deck as well.
When| After "Whistling in the Dark"
Warnings/Notes| None, beyond the general mild warning of there being some mention of how he was raised.
A replication of Craydl had sounded good when he had requested it. When asked about what kind of environment he would want, he hadn't really had any other ideas on what to say. It wasn't an exact replication by any means; when he'd described it, he'd felt the need to keep it purposefully vague, giving a general idea and outlining the superficial aspects of the construction, but leaving most decisions on layout up to the builders.
The end result was that, while it did look a lot like Craydl, it was different enough to feel wrong. Worst of all, was how empty it felt without Craydl's voice chiming in throughout the day; no witty or sarcastic comments when he was being too serious or getting too caught up in a project, no advice or chiding mother hen attitude when he wasn't sleeping enough or wasn't eating as much as he should. There had been times he'd found all of those things annoying, but now, even in the short time he'd been here, there had been more than one occurrence of him unintentionally speaking up to talk to the AI that wasn't there.
Despite all the people on Legion World and the fact that he could speak to any of them at a moments notice if he chose to, he'd never felt so utterly on his own. Not that he had done much to reach out to anyone since he'd been pulled here. Outside of doing maintenance and repairs he'd agreed to help with (which there seemed to be no shortage of), he'd hardly left his part of the Habitat deck.
The longer he spent in the building the more that unfamiliar feeling of loneliness weighed on him. The maze of grated floors and machinery began to feel both hollow and constricting; less like 'home' and more like an elaborate prison. Eventually, the feeling was uncomfortable enough to finally push him out.
Outside of his little lair was a stretch of what resembled an Alabama forest, and among all the trees, his warehouse of a building stuck out like a sore thumb but despite the stark difference, or maybe because of it, it felt more comforting than the imitation of Craydl. Still, comforting or not, there was only so much one could get from wandering the same patch of forest, and eventually curiosity and listlessness have the speedster cautiously exploring the other sections of the Habitat deck.
It was interesting to see just how different each section was. One moment you could be on a beach, the next in the middle of a city, a garden, or on a mountain side. It really was amazing the lengths the Legion went to, to make the beings in their care comfortable, as well as the various environments those people chose. It doesn't take long for him to get lost to curiosity and drop his guard, not caring quite as much if he's caught looking around. Or at least, not caring until he has been caught.
Any sign of another persons presence or any attempt to interact with the teen will have him acting startled and skittish, like a wild animal that's been cornered and is trying to judge whether it would be better to run or attack. While an attack is very unlikely, there is a good chance of hearing an insincere "I didn't mean to disturb you" spoken a little too fast.
What| A new arrival being lonely without his AI buddy and finally giving into socializing. Kind of.
Where| Various sections of the Habitat deck. You can feel free to tag him in his own section of the deck as well.
When| After "Whistling in the Dark"
Warnings/Notes| None, beyond the general mild warning of there being some mention of how he was raised.
A replication of Craydl had sounded good when he had requested it. When asked about what kind of environment he would want, he hadn't really had any other ideas on what to say. It wasn't an exact replication by any means; when he'd described it, he'd felt the need to keep it purposefully vague, giving a general idea and outlining the superficial aspects of the construction, but leaving most decisions on layout up to the builders.
The end result was that, while it did look a lot like Craydl, it was different enough to feel wrong. Worst of all, was how empty it felt without Craydl's voice chiming in throughout the day; no witty or sarcastic comments when he was being too serious or getting too caught up in a project, no advice or chiding mother hen attitude when he wasn't sleeping enough or wasn't eating as much as he should. There had been times he'd found all of those things annoying, but now, even in the short time he'd been here, there had been more than one occurrence of him unintentionally speaking up to talk to the AI that wasn't there.
Despite all the people on Legion World and the fact that he could speak to any of them at a moments notice if he chose to, he'd never felt so utterly on his own. Not that he had done much to reach out to anyone since he'd been pulled here. Outside of doing maintenance and repairs he'd agreed to help with (which there seemed to be no shortage of), he'd hardly left his part of the Habitat deck.
The longer he spent in the building the more that unfamiliar feeling of loneliness weighed on him. The maze of grated floors and machinery began to feel both hollow and constricting; less like 'home' and more like an elaborate prison. Eventually, the feeling was uncomfortable enough to finally push him out.
Outside of his little lair was a stretch of what resembled an Alabama forest, and among all the trees, his warehouse of a building stuck out like a sore thumb but despite the stark difference, or maybe because of it, it felt more comforting than the imitation of Craydl. Still, comforting or not, there was only so much one could get from wandering the same patch of forest, and eventually curiosity and listlessness have the speedster cautiously exploring the other sections of the Habitat deck.
It was interesting to see just how different each section was. One moment you could be on a beach, the next in the middle of a city, a garden, or on a mountain side. It really was amazing the lengths the Legion went to, to make the beings in their care comfortable, as well as the various environments those people chose. It doesn't take long for him to get lost to curiosity and drop his guard, not caring quite as much if he's caught looking around. Or at least, not caring until he has been caught.
Any sign of another persons presence or any attempt to interact with the teen will have him acting startled and skittish, like a wild animal that's been cornered and is trying to judge whether it would be better to run or attack. While an attack is very unlikely, there is a good chance of hearing an insincere "I didn't mean to disturb you" spoken a little too fast.
no subject
The invitation to 'pull up a patch of grass' (why did people have so many odd idioms?) seemed to startle him slightly. There was a moment where he seemed to honestly think Rich might be speaking to someone else, giving in to an embarrassing urge to look around for anyone else that might be there with them. Of course, there was no one else.
He seemed to take a moment to consider it before finally sitting down very neatly; legs folded under him, back straight, hands placed together on his lap. And there was a stretch of silence where he merely sat there awkwardly with the expression of one trying to figure out a particularly frustrating puzzle. When he did finally speak up it was in a particularly blunt tone.
"Why have a habitat made for you that you don't use for a domicile?" It didn't occur to him that this question might be personal or rude, but even if he had, he probably would have asked it anyway. As intriguing as the replication was, it didn't make sense. What was the purpose of it?
no subject
He didn't need a place to sleep. He was perfectly comfortable in a normal quarters --and used to them at this point. He'd had his own modest general's quarters during the war, and any place that had ever put him up for the night since usually plopped him in something equivalent to a standard ship's quarters.
"The habitats are for people if they want a custom place for their quarters but they're also for people to feel less homesick. I chose Central Park because it's one of the places that reminds me of home the most."
And did it in a way that didn't make him more homesick. He could've chosen someplace like Montauk Point, where his family'd had a summer home when he was growing up, but that probably only would've made him feel worse.
"And what kind of park doesn't have other people in it at least sometimes?"
no subject
The idea of being homesick was something of a foreign concept to him. While he knew what it was supposed to mean, it was hard for him to really understand it or empathize. Briefly, he wondered if it was comparable to how he had felt inside the empty re-creation of Craydl, but ultimately decided it likely wasn't comparable. It was the AI he missed more than the place itself. Then again, this certainly wasn't what he would consider the conventional idea of 'home', so perhaps the meaning of the word was more board and less literal than he had initially interpreted it.
On the topic of parks needing people he could only reply with, "I suppose..." and a slight shrug as he unconsciously looked around the place. It did feel somewhat empty with just the two of them.
Looking back to Rich, his hands fidget together a little, thinking back on his earlier comment about him looking new.
"How long have you been here?" Then, to make sure he was being complexity clear, he added rather unnecessarily, "In this universe I mean, not this spot."
no subject
"A few weeks. Enough to get settled in, at any rate."
Which was a strange feeling. He was so used to rocketing from one threat to the next -- with his rookie Novas in tow -- but here he was, waiting for the trouble to happen in one place before running to it.
"Which is a weird feeling for me. I'm not used to standing still."
It usually left him too much time to think.
no subject
"What are you use to doing?" As far as he was aware most people spent a good portion of their time at a stand still and seemed perfectly happy like that. Even other speedsters (with the possible exception of Allen) seemed to relish the few moments they had to be still and just enjoy a bit of peace. What kind of life did someone lead where the opportunity for that was so infrequent that it had become an oddity?
no subject
The very last Nova.
"Luckily, a whole lotta people from a whole lotta worlds banded together to stop the ones responsible for the fall of the Novas, an omnicidal maniac named Annihilus and his army. But since then, space has been a mess back home. Thanks to the Novas being gone, I had the combined power of the entire Nova Corps -- instead of being all spread out, I carried it all. It meant I had the power to help a lot of people, so I was burning the candle at both ends, rocketing from one place to another trying to help people after so many worlds were thrown into chaos because of the war."
He shot Thad a crooked grin.
"Basically, I haven't exactly had time for a vacation in a good long while."
no subject
What would be the proper reaction to this?
Rich didn't seem to be particularly upset while talking about it, he actually seemed almost casual, should he be casual back? Or would that be considered callous?
"I...can see why that would make you unused to being in one place for so long." He probably should have left it to that, but an overabundance of curiosity had always been one of his flaws. "Wouldn't getting some time to rest be something of a relief then?"
no subject
He smiled though, to take the edge off any possible judgment over his age Thad might think he was sending his way.
"I'm Rich Rider, by the way. I also go by Nova. What's your name?" A pause. "And how old are you? I'm curious 'cause I'm pretty sure I'm one of the crustiest, most ancient people here right now."
Man, there sure seemed to be a lot of teens.
no subject
"And my age is...somewhat complicated." Going with the truth it is. "Physically I would be approximately fourteen to sixteen years old, chronologically I'm three hundred and seventy-two" if Craydl's measure of time was to be believed "while my mental age would depend on what parameters you would prefer to measure it by."
He manages to say this with a completely straight face, despite one of the deciding factors to telling the truth admittedly being the hope for an amusing response.
no subject
"You've held up well," Rich said glibly, like someone complimenting an elderly person on them not being pruny old. "Keeping active? Doing that monthly crossword? I heard that's good for holding off dementia."
Congrats, Thad, now he's going to talk to you like you're ancient for a little bit.
"I really hope that lumbago isn't acting up. I've heard a epsom salts and a good liniment cream can help with that."
no subject
"No issues with back problems. Thankfully, a speedster metabolism can do wonders for one's longevity, and durability." When the speedforce wasn't backfiring that is. The cloning process and genetic alterations also played a hand in this, but he preferred to still keep that to himself for the time being.