circumitus: Then drank our feelings. I feel feminism delivered. (we ate our feelings)
Reybama ([personal profile] circumitus) wrote in [community profile] ataraxionlogs2012-09-09 07:16 pm
Entry tags:

i see the rifles coming over the hill [open]

CHARACTERS: Rey and Cibo.
LOCATION: The corridors.
WARNINGS: Potential of violent outbursts, descriptions of violence and gore, and psycho lady with a gun.
SUMMARY: Due to her DPC, Rey feels her sanity start to slip.



Rey was a drifter. She did not find her place among any department or group of people of any kind. Long after she had mingled in attempt to better her understanding of how they worked, she still felt stuck. Stagnant. Sure of the fact that she was going around in circles, she returned to her old function.

Things were different now, and yet they felt the same.

Her comfort is the gun.

Sometimes, it seemed like she shouldn't have this loaded pistol, even if a issued weapon was considered, by all means, standard considering her role in security. The thought of squeezing off several shots and riddling a living body full of holes rang clear in her mind, and made more sense than most things usually did. Not a whole lot of things made sense to Rey, and that was the problem.

Lately, she started to have these strange dreams. Voices float about in her head like many bubbles, popping odd hints every now and again of something greater...

Phase One: You are a vessel. You are created to die.

Phase Two: The will to power.

Phase Three: This is the Posthuman Condition.


Most of these dreams, abstract as they are, revealed a clear picture as she remembered a woman's voice and face. She explained to Rey ("not Rey") of this condition: You are a vessel. You are born to die.

Five stages, she explained.

Over the course of her condition, she will eventually go insane by the fourth stage.

Rey had never spoken of this to anything. They might just be dreams, or fears, or worries. What was the difference between those two?

She had already openly confessed to murder without remorse. Even more so when she also admitted that she felt nothing for their deaths. After all, it was necessary. War was necessary, so said the man with the gold eyes, just before she went and shot him in the head.

It felt like another life back then, repeating itself. Like it had happened to her in a dream at some point, but she couldn't place when she had the dream, or what occurred in it.

That was then, a dream. This was now, a reality.

Was there really any difference between the two, where Rey was concerned? Sometimes the dreams felt real, and she would be listening to a woman's voice rattling off medical reports into a tape recorder. Sometimes the dreams felt fake, and she had visions of a red wolf in the snow, bloodied maws and ripping apart human flesh. She had dreams where swarms of wasps gathered around the open mouths of corpses, eyes gawking at the burning midday sun.

You are a vessel. You will go mad.

Die and be made whole again.


If this wasn't already madness, she didn't know what. Apathy and numbness, this foul taste on her tongue... She rubbed her lips with the back of her hand, leaving behind an aftertaste of gunpowder and some other kind of smoke. Her feet moved as though they were possessed. Every so often, the walls would look different, and she would have to cover her eyes until they went back to normal. It felt like things were pulsing again. Like the eyes were watching her.

"Come away with me. I'll free you from that. You'll never have to worry about being locked up ever--"

"That's enough." Rey snapped, rubbing her eyes again from the face of a man wearing a pork-pie hat. But his face seemed etched in there, grinning, dreamily reaching for her into a faux-loving embrace...

He visits her every day. Hands pressed to her glass cell, eyes half-lidded with an adoring gaze. He wants her to come with him. Take her away from this place.

It's a worse Hell to imagine. Worse than the glass cell. Here, she is free from him. Safe from the world.

War does not exist here.


Shut up!

Rey staggered, one hand covering her eyes still. The other lashed out, grasping for the wall. She wound up knocking over a chair instead.

Where was this? A common area? The hallways? It was difficult to tell, the way the shapes warped, turning into something else.

A city on fire.

No. She better not be losing it here. Not in this place. She fumbled for her communicator. Even when she couldn't find it, she had no idea who she would call. She was a far cry from help -- a lost cause. Perhaps it would be better if she died right here.

It wasn't a communicator in her hand -- it was her issued gun. She only thought it was the device for a split second, blinking neon numbers, counting downward to detonation. Prepare to evacuate.

You will go mad.

This wasn't the stage four that her dream had talked about, was it? No no no, it couldn't be. But even then, the trigger seemed so inviting. The only dilemma here was the fact that she couldn't decide where to turn the muzzle on -- herself, or...

"Oh."
watashinonamaewa: (| if you wanna get with me |)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-10 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
And there Cibo stood.

Only five feet away. She had been present for the majority of the outburst. Concern, caution, and curiosity fluttered about in her mind. At the sight of the weapon, her body entered an instinctive defensive mode. Left hand resting near her waist. Near the prod.

It wouldn't have been the first time that Cibo watched someone with an unstable grasp on reality have some sort of episode. Her reality of The City was very wearing on the untrained mind. The isolation of the metal walls. The paranoia of being hunted. It was enough to drive anyone normal human to the last strands of sanity. The disconnected mind was normally the one that survived the longest.

What she just watched was incredibly familiar. She understood what she watched.

The electrical prod strapped to her waist let off a small hum of current in response to her gentle touch. It responded like a beast to its master. Ready to attack at Cibo's command. Prepared to unleash its electric force and paralyze its victims.

Her eyes are unmoved from Rey's. She isn't sure what to say. Unsure of what to ask first.

She would normally let the break happen - perhaps because there was little way to save a mind so far gone. But in this place. Aboard this ship. She felt different. She couldn't let it happen.

A small step forward. Right hand lifted from her side in Rey's direction, palm face-up. She wanted Rey's weapon.
watashinonamaewa: (004)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-10 07:23 am (UTC)(link)
The momentum of Cibo's single step halted.

How would she even begin? She couldn't read Rey's mind to know exactly what was twisted. There was no way of knowing what should be said to prevent Rey's mind from snapping. Had there been a similar small voice in her head that the long-lost of The City spoke to? The voices they held so dear, or with so much hatred? Cibo imagined the voices they spoke to were the influences for their insanity. But who could blame them? There was no one else to talk to in that cold place.

There is more out there than just these walls. Cibo would say. That is what she would tell anyone from The City. What a unfathomable comfort it was to know that there was space outside of the metal prison of her reality. If there were anything to say to Rey to make her realize that the voice was not all that was left.

With her hand lowering slowly, but not any less expectant of receiving the weapon, she continued to keep her eyes locked on Rey's.

Look away, her eyes tried to say. Look away and you'll break.

Her weight shifted subtly to begin another step. Her hand slipped more onto the prod's grip.
Edited 2012-09-10 07:54 (UTC)
watashinonamaewa: (006)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-10 10:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Once more, she stopped in place at Rey's demand.

Rey's weapon appeared similar to Killy's Gravitational Beam Emitter, but it didn't appear to be an energy-based weapon. The way Rey stood, and the way she held it, told Cibo that it would use projectile force. She imagined that being hit by such a weapon would be much less damaging than the GBE.

Still, her adrenaline hastened.

The idea of being harmed in this situation didn't seem pleasant — she didn't know how her newly found pain sensation would react. Cibo couldn't begin to imagine how her body would react. Something in her changed when she was brought aboard the Tranquility. She felt human.

Her body would react as it normally did with The City, she theorized. The pain would simply be acknowledged and she would then be able to proceed in any manner she wanted. So long as she cared to the wound the soonest chance she could.

Devoid of expression, Cibo continued to watch Rey vigilantly. When she finally decided to speak, she made sure that her voice was gentle and clear enough for Rey to hear without strain. Avoiding any extra irritations seemed to be in Cibo's favor, at the moment.

"Do you know where you are? Or who I am?"

It seemed important to know these things; To know how far from reality Rey had already fallen.
watashinonamaewa: (012)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-11 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
A shiver ran down Cibo spine that came directly from Rey's words — That she had once been in a similar position but couldn't quite place it. It was a strange sensation that overwhelmed her. Déjà Vu, but Cibo wouldn't know to call it that.

The words wouldn't form at her lips like she intended, instead they only echoed in her head for a short time.

わたしの名前わ。。。

The free hand lifted again in a gesture of Hold on. Not yet. while Cibo attempted to predict Rey's unpredictable mind. She would have rather not caused harm, or be harmed, if the scenario didn't call for it... But it seemed more and more likely with each passing moment.

Her fingers grasped the prod more firmly, causing it to buzz with excitement.

"...I am Cibo."
watashinonamaewa: (035)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-13 09:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Rey remembered. At least she said she did. Something in her mind still held on, Cibo wouldn't risk zapping it out of her. Her hand lifted from the weapon and the electric sound ceased with a small flicker of noise. Both hands evened in height until they both remained away from her sides and still within Rey's view.

"This is the Tranquility. Do you remember?"

Help her grasp reality. That was the plan.

I will not harm you if you do not harm me, her eyes said as she waited for Rey's next move.
watashinonamaewa: (018)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-14 05:32 am (UTC)(link)
She couldn't determine if walking away was the talk of the voices or of Rey's. Staying near her seemed to be the only way to ensure the weapon was not misused.

"I will not leave until you discard the weapon."

Cibo remained calm. Kept still. Stayed ready.

Perhaps she wasn't as powerful as the woman standing in front of her, but she was confident enough in her agility to disarm her if needed. Her body calculated the movements necessary to get that close — the time needed to pull the prod from her waist and activate it.

Hands lowered slowly in preparation.
Edited 2012-09-14 05:33 (UTC)
watashinonamaewa: (045)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-14 06:16 am (UTC)(link)
"Then I will not leave."

One track mind readied for activation. Emotions drained and any hints of pain from the scar on her left shoulder numbed itself.

Then her adrenaline kicked in. Even breathing and hastened heart rate. Muscles tensed. Weight shifted and settled onto the front of her feet. Her body had prepared to execute Cibo's desired operation.

Left hand's fingertips touched the prod once more. The hum began again; the growl of the beast.
watashinonamaewa: (002)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-16 08:34 am (UTC)(link)
Threatened. Adrenaline activated. Instincts unleashed.

She began her forward rush the same moment she realized Rey's trigger finger pull. Even while pushing herself forward and gripping the prod from her side, she hardly flinched from the shot. Louder sounds had pierced her ears before, but not accompanied with such a small projectile. Cibo's eyes could barely follow such a small object as it whizzed by her in what felt like less than a second.

Black sparks formed a constant current along the length of the prod. Cibo brought it down to her side to build the force of her forward jab, which she only started to perform when she realized something. A strange quiver to her breath — A small shake in her free hand.

Why? She thought, watching Rey's weapon for the next trigger pull. Why am I frightened?
watashinonamaewa: (029)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-17 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
At first, Cibo was unsure how to describe the sharp sensation she felt in her left shoulder, an inch from her neck. The bullet ruggedly tore through the upper layers of her skin, but deep enough to cause immediate bleeding. She flinched and froze any forward motion.

The prod nearly slipped through her fingers. Her right hand shot up to slow the flow of blood. Already, as her teeth clamped shut and her eyes squint in reflection of the uncomfortable pinch she felt, she could calculate how long she had before she bled out if the wound wasn't sealed.

Pain.

Never before had physical damage of her body forced a reaction of that intensity. A reaction that started to numb her fingers while her shoulder throbbed in pain. The scar spanning down her back had been disturbed. That pain throbbed as well.

Adrenaline continued quickly through her system. Blood oozed through her long fingers. She felt a small shiver throughout her body as her right hand left the hot wound.

With what strength was left in her arm, Cibo regained a small grasp on her weapon. The power surged weakly, in weak spurts of the black electricity. She pressed the prod downward, her hold on the weapon already weakening.
watashinonamaewa: (009)

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-09-18 09:11 am (UTC)(link)
As Rey fired the remaining rounds, Cibo flinched at each one. The shots echoed the fresh memory of pain back into her body.

Blood had leaked down her arm and started to drip from the fingertips of her black suit. A streak strayed down the weakened prod which finally slipped from her fingers — hitting the ground with a soft thud and final spark. The buzz died.

Adrenaline numbed her arm entirely. The wound still pinched and resonated through her torso, up to her eyes. Her right hand reached downward for her weapon. The respective left-kneecap buckled under the pain, unwillingly putting Cibo to the ground. It felt good to be down; To rest her body while her mind screamed. Never stop moving. And her body moved back up, sluggishly.

With the prod in her off-hand, blood oozing from her shoulder, and legs becoming weak, Cibo tried to keep her vision steady on Rey. She was too far out of her element with this pain thing slowing her down. The stick snapped to her waist with a small click. Blood dripped silently, and her right hand raised. Palm up. Bloody. Begging.

Her straining eyes found Rey's.

Weapon. Please. Please, don't shoot me again.
watashinonamaewa: (| sticks and stone may break my bones |)

sorry this only took forever to tag :c

[personal profile] watashinonamaewa 2012-10-12 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
When the gun dropped, it felt like Cibo could finally breath again. Whatever small amount of air she had been holding in pain for the last few seconds released and continued a heavier rhythm to compensate for the pain.

Her vision doubled for a split moment. She shut her eyes to refocus before standing as straight as she could while applying pressure to her wound. If noticeable at all, Cibo's blood seemed slightly thinner than anyone other human. So maybe that's what made it flow easier through her fingers. From the wound.

The legs moved. They turned her as her blurring vision lingered with Rey's being. Part of her didn't want to leave. The other part wanted to get as far away as possible. But she pulled herself slowly away, exiting in direction of the medical bay as droplets of blood still fell from her fingertips.

She wondered if she had helped at all; If she had somehow brought Rey from the deranged voice in her mind.

There wasn't a glance back to check on Rey, though. Only the determination of getting the wound tended to.