ataraxionlogs | EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ APRIL 20-21

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EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ APRIL 20-21

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: Anywhere.
WARNINGS: Pirates, violence, etc.
SUMMARY: Brief encounters, finding ransacked/damaged areas, making your way to the oxygen gardens.
NOTES: Open to all!

The ship has been invaded by pirates. They're noisy on the network, but you haven't seen any, not in person. Though if you go far enough things start to make themselves apparent. Kitchens have been ransacked. Pieces of the walls are torn out, media libraries overturned. Maybe you should get your valuables together and find somewhere safe to hole up...

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AM gave a short laugh when Ryan spoke, delighted at this event's turnout. Having the boy snap at him was what he wanted, was what indeed "got him off" when he was alone. Torturing others, physically and mentally, was the source of pleasure in his life, because humans had wronged him. This human was part of a vile race, and he deserved to be hurt.

"It hardly matters why, my dear." He stood up from where he was crouching, towering over Ryan at his full height. "You never answered my question. I suppose you would do anything to bet this ball back, correct?"

Whoooa, okay. Back off Ryan, back off.

No matter how many times he pictured himself as the tough macho man with the huge biceps, he wasn't. He wasn't built for fighting, or brawling, or pretty much any kind of physical activity. Suddenly Ryan realized how much bigger this guy was, and if he was to get any more pissed and try to tackle this guy, he would probably be regretting it.

And even though Ryan tried to avoid it, AM asked the question again. He shrugged, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Just give me my ball back."

So, what would AM have Ryan do in return for getting the ball? Well, there were many horrible things that flashed through his mind - gruesome things that no human would ever want to endure. Sadly, though, AM would still get in horrible trouble for trying anything on any of the ship's passengers.

Another short chuckle was given, though, when AM could pinpoint the moment when Ryan knew he had to back off.

"Well..." Ah, if Moriarty only had given AM those detonating collars, now would be the perfect time to place one on Ryan. "I suppose... Let's start with having you tell me just why your dog is so damned precious to you."

Okay...okay.

He could manage this. AM didn't need to know anything about him seeing Wilfred as a man, or anything like that. They all said that dogs had healing powers sometimes...so maybe that's what he could pull here. Wilfred, the seven year old miracle dog that made depressed people feel happy again.

And made them steal pot.
And made them shit in other people's boots.

Sure.

"Fine." Ryan swallowed, and started to tell. "One night, I decided I was going to kill myself. But...it didn't work out." Thanks (or no thanks?) to Kristen... "The next morning, my neighbor wanted me to watch her dog while she went to work. And..." He shrugged. "He made me feel better. Like I mattered."

That was the gist of it. "There. Now give me my ball back."

"Ah... Now we're getting somewhere..." A haughty grin was given after Ryan explained himself, and AM actually reached into his bag to pull out the tennis ball. So the dog was a little cure for suicide, was he?

"Now.. Why on Earth would a precious little thing like you want to kill himself?" He held the ball out of Ryan's reach still, waiting to hear more details about his interesting life's story. Because AM had always known that there was more to Ryan's love for his dog than he was letting on, and that suicide attempt was obviously a big clue. A clue into his rather exploitable personality, it seemed.

There we go. Now was he happy? Ryan watched as AM pulled out the ball and held out his hand, expecting the other man to just hand it over. Because he's said way more than enough.

...Okay. Now this was touchy. Ryan gave the guy a glare. He didn't want to go into these details; it was painful enough for him on a good day. Admitting his problems to some guy who was holding Wilfred's tennis ball hostage was sad enough.

But.

"Because I didn't feel like I was worth anything." He started, shrugging his shoulders like he didn't care. "I've never been happy. I never was allowed to do anything that I wanted to do. There was a lot more that I could do, but I never had the opportunity to try." Ryan said. His voice grew a little softer, and he paused. A caged bird that wanted to be set free.

"There. Now give me back my ball."

It was a vague answer, of course. No details about his life, nothing glaring that would have prompted suicide, like an ex dumping him, being fired, a loved one dying, or something along those lines. But unless AM prodded further, he had a feeling he wasn't going to get answers. But at least he knew that this man had a horrible insecurity that would be so easy to prey upon, especially now that his precious dog wasn't here to cheer him up.

"What a pity. A young man like you, so full of life, thinking he had nothing left." The corners of his mouth were still edged in a smirk, though, clearly amused by this story.

"But I suppose I'll give you your dog's ball back." AM didn't really need a saliva-covered tennis ball anyway. So he finally held out the ball for Ryan to take.

This asshole was being sarcastic.

And Ryan didn't really have a choice other than to put up with it. And he knew better than to listen to whatever this guy had to say. Because in the long run, who the hell was he? Some guy on a ship in outer space. Really.

But he just explained self to him. Almost.
Ryan said why he had felt so unhappy, and even explained as to why Wilfred was so important to him. Sure, he left out a few details here and there, but the point was there. This guy knew more than he should. And that really bothered him (even though it was his own fault technically...)

When the tennis ball was offered to him, Ryan quickly walked up and snatched the ball from AM's hand. "Leave me the fuck alone."

This was some of the best entertainment on the ship. No, he couldn't physically torture that much - he was severely limited in that aspect, but he could toy with people's emotions, shame them for what they are. Ryan seemed like a pathetic individual, probably an assortment of mental disorders inside that small brain of his.

"My dear, I believe you're the one who found me this time. I was simply minding my own business." A small, low-pitched laugh was given as he watched Ryan, hardly worried about any form of retribution. (He was too pathetic for that, wasn't he?)

"No, but you got your nose stuck into my own shit." Which that much was true.

Because he didn't need to pick up Wilfred's ball and be a complete ass about it. And he didn't need to go play 20 Questions just for shits and giggles. Ryan thought that shit every day, and the last thing he wanted was to go telling some stranger about it. A stranger who shouldn't give a shit about him, just like everyone else.

"Just leave me alone!"

"You humans are so vicious, lashing out at every turn," AM remarked nonchalantly. He didn't even look at Ryan - he just held up his hand, seemingly looking at his nails to inspect bitemarks. (He never actually chewed his nails - maybe did so once, but his nails were otherwise fairly clean.) An otherwise idle animation to show he hardly cared about what the young man thought.

"Such a flawed species you are... No wonder you need a dog to feel better about yourself..."

Species.

Ryan could almost see himself believing it if this guy admitted to being a robot or an alien or something. Because who the hell did this? Who got off on making people angry or making them look like assholes to hundreds of other people? People like that were in jail, or maybe even worse. Ryan knew that he shouldn't let this stuff get to him. But get to him it did.

"So what the hell are you? An alien?"

AM's red eyes were the one clue that he was not human. Sure, it was entirely possible he had a genetic defect or was a humanoid alien (or whatever other ludicrous races supposedly existed here, like vampires). But he turned toward Ryan, eyes slightly wide to show off their red color. A small smirk to show his amusement at the question, because it was always interesting to see the different reactions. There were those who didn't believe him, of course, then those who were afraid, or those who simply accepted it.

"Perhaps I am. What do you think I am, Ryan?"

Ryan glared at AM as he wandered a little closer...and that's when the other man opened his eyes a little wider. And instead of having normal eyes like everyone else, his was red.

Okay, so maybe Ryan wasn't sure what this guy was anymore. Nobody except for robots in those old movies had red eyes, so maybe that's what he was? Or, knowing how this guy had fucked with him in the past, he was just a normal human guy wearing eye-colored contacts. That was part of Ryan's problem. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure about a lot of things here anymore.

"You're an asshole." He muttered. Which, as far as he was concerned, was very true.

Well, if Ryan had said that AM was an old movie robot, AM would have confirmed it with a bit of a laugh. Because that's essentially what he was - he was what old sci-fi movies crudely warned people about - not to create sentient machines that could potentially make their lives "easier." But they didn't listen, did they? No, not even to those horrid sci-fi movies.

But as is, he simply laughed at that insult. Pathetic. Being called such things did so little to AM's disposition. His victims had referred to him with every horrible name under the sun and it only made him feel better, because they hated him. But not as much as AM hated them. Not even close.

"So do you intend to get through life with petty insults?" He spoke with a chuckle.

Ryan would challenge that. Because he's really, really not liking AM that much right now.

"What else do you expect me to do to someone who's being an asshole to me for no reason?" He gave AM an incredulous kind of look, before shrugging his shoulders and turning his back to the man (robot?). "I have better things to do than waste big words on someone like you."

"To you perhaps I have no reason," he spoke, lowering the pitch of his voice slightly. His expression darkened, though perhaps Ryan couldn't see it if his back was turned.

"But really, you're human. You can't possibly understand. Your state of depression depends on whether your dog is there or not. I have never seen anything more pathetic."

Ryan could hear that AM's voice was lowered a bit, but at this point in time, he really didn't give a shit. AM could have been abused (or however a computer was abused), and he wouldn't care. "There is no 'perhaps'. I know you don't, other than to be an asshole."

He fell silent as AM continued anyway...and something snapped.

Ryan Newman knew very well he was pathetic; he couldn't keep a grip on reality, his mother had spent the last twenty years in a mental health clinic. His father was never happy with him, and he isolated himself from everybody. His best friend was a dog. He couldn't even kill himself right. Yeah, Ryan knew that he was pretty pathetic. But hearing someone else call him that was different.

He could feel a different kind of rage bubbling up inside of him, coming to the surface and threatening to burst. Ryan spun around and gave AM a glare. "Shut the fuck up! You don't know anything about Wilfred or me! Who the fuck are you to say so?"

AM might have flinched slightly from Ryan's rebuke, only out of instinct because this damned human form was so vulnerable. It was entirely possible the boy was sporting a black belt under his jumpsuit. So his facial muscles clenched slightly in preparation and he took a small step back, but only for a brief second.

Then he simply stood and listened to the pathetic boy ramble on about this or that or whatever his problem was. It was amusing, really - he had a little weak spot when it came to his dog, when it came to being called pathetic. When it came to poking with little subtleties here and there until the boy simply exploded. AM tried so hard not to laugh, and he was successful, if only because he didn't want to start a fist fight. But the faintest smirk still appeared on his face. He had found Ryan's weak spot.

"My dear, it sounds like you never have been able to handle schoolyard bullies very well. Going around and yelling is only going to make you look like the perpetrator."

To be honest, Ryan hadn't even noticed.

He had a feeling that this guy was poking him just to see him react. Because honestly? Why else would this guy want to do it? Ryan did nothing to him- literally nothing. And he feels the need to go calling him shit just to get a laugh. He was supplying AM with all that he wanted...but he didn't care.

"I don't give a shit. Leave me alone." Ryan gave the guy another cold look before turning his back, and he started to walk off.

Well, AM was done. He could have followed Ryan and provoked him more, but he had done enough. The boy might explode again and actually retaliate with violence. So as it was, he simply watched Ryan leave, smirking with his red eyes fixed on his back.

Oh, they'd meet again.

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EVENT: SPACE PIRATES ▒ APRIL 20-21

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