ataraxionlogs | so let's raise the bar

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so let's raise the bar

CHARACTERS: Soysauce & open!
LOCATION: Kitchens, oxygen gardens and hallways.
SUMMARY: Trying to stay optimistic and light-hearted.
NOTES: Open for any time until next jump!

[ soysauce is a little thick sometimes; that's difficult to deny, and he's even willing to acknowledge it himself. but that doesn't mean he's ignorant to the constant danger present aboard the tranquility. he's definitely aware of how the ship can warp at any moment and throw everything into chaos; whatever atmosphere of peace that may rest over the ship at the moment is temporary at best.

but -- isn't that all the more reason to make the best of it while it lasts? he's never been good at remaining serious for too long, always searching for a silver lining to any exhausting situation, trying to keep spirits up no matter how difficult the situation. and so Soysauce spends his days cheerfully, offering the brightest smile he can manage to anyone who might meet his gaze. whenever he's not on security duty, he's out and around -- keeping himself occupied in the most high-spirited way he can. ]

kitchens ;

[ he spends a fair amount of time in the kitchens. it's peaceful there, and he likes to cook extra food whenever he can -- leaving it in the fridge in little containers, marked 'free for taking.' (he knows a few people here probably can't or won't cook -- no shame in that! -- so he'd like to make their lives just a bit easier.)

people walking by the kitchen might catch the savory scent of food cooking, the sound of pots and pans and utensils clanking. but they might also hear the lilting noise of cheerful whistling and humming, and maybe the sounds of shoes tapping lightly against the floor -- when he's waiting for things to simmer and cook, soy sometimes spends his time dancing. always keeping himself occupied somehow or the other. ]

hallways & gardens ;

[ he tends to be a bit less productive in the evenings, though. (words can't describe how much soysauce misses his home at times. the busy streets, the bright lights, the bustling nightlife of beacon -- things he holds dear to his heart and can't find anything even close to aboard the tranquility.) never content to just sit still anywhere, even while intoxicated, soy takes to wandering around the ship -- cheerfully waving and chirping at anyone he recognizes.

whiskey bottle in hand, cheeks slightly pink, pleasantly light-headed from the alcohol swimming in his veins, soysauce walks the hallways without any real destination, often ending up roaming the gardens in search of some poor person (victim?) to talk to. ]

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[Fresh air isn't something AM is entirely used to. And even in these oxygen gardens, it still feels artificial. It's not the real thing. He'll probably never get to experience the real thing, because fate has cursed him that way. It's partially due to this resentment that he doesn't spend too much time in the gardens, at least not more than he feels necessary. But he can't deny that this body needs to at least pretend to experience fresh air, greenery, something resembling Earth's natural state. What it once was. Fresh oxygen keeps the body and mind healthier, more active...

So sometimes he would go to the gardens and at least attempt to convince himself he was situated in one of Earth's greenhouses. At night he had gone, hoping there would be fewer people. Whether or not he's right, he at least stays away from them, seated by several leafy plants as he looks over his communication device.

Sad that he can hardly find enjoyment in the trivial things that humans like. Reading is the closest thing he can find pleasurable in terms of "trivial human entertainment," but only so he can scoff at the writings. Or simply laugh at their ridiculousness. Romance novels are something he enjoys so that he can utterly mock the human tendency to focus on sex - poorly-written sex at that. Or he'll read famous works of literature that he's already familiar with, simply to get ideas, particularly from religious works.

It's a sad way to pass the time, though, as he sits by the large leaves and scrolls through a digital copy of a poetry collection. Hardly anything artistic about it, really. Even with these human senses, art is something that is difficult for AM to relate to at all, especially this mishmash of words. Not too involved in his work, he at least is able to hear when someone is coming close.]

[ more than an year spent aboard the ship, and the oxygen gardens still boggle soy's minds, in some ways. he's spent his whole life in the heated, barren flatlands of dustbowl, after all -- huge stretches of sand and cracked desert earth for as far as the eye can see, punctuated only by patches of fertile land and oases. even the lushest gardens and nurseries kept by the richest landowners in beacon pale in comprison to the rich greenery of the oxygen gardens, and so soy often finds himself in the gardens while drunk -- drinking in the delicious fresh air, basking in the atmosphere, practically intoxicated on the overwhelming sight of all this green.

he loves the gardens -- as much as he loves just about everything and everyone else, especially while he's tipsy -- and soysauce is surprisingly light on his feet as he wanders about the gardens. pretty impressive, given how much whiskey he's knocked back.

in such a good mood, soysauce can't help humming softly as he picks his way between the trees, whistling and singing in between breaths -- giving a happy little noise when he spots someone familiar sitting by a big clump of leafy plants. ]

Ah, Mister AM! [ whatever reservations he might have about AM vanish entirely once he's got a few drinks in him, and soysauce sounds sincerely happy to see AM as he gives a large wave of his arm. ] Good evening! Funny running into you here, sir! Do you come here often? [ he's got a mostly-empty whiskey bottle in his other hand as he patters over, crouching down beside where AM is as he peers over towards the book in his hands. ] Ah, are you studying something? You always seem so focused!

[It's a somewhat secluded area where AM sits, where he can at least think he's sitting in a large forest or greenhouse. The leaves on these plants are quite incredible - being a couple feet in length at least, though it's not even close to what the largest leaves on Earth could be. Not that he ever really appreciated them.

He looks up from his device when he hears those slightly uneven footsteps. Soysauce. Of course. It had been probably four days or so since they had last gotten together, or something along those lines. AM, of course, appreciates him for certain reasons, but otherwise Soysauce can be absolutely annoying. Especially now, since AM can smell the alcohol, can see the bottle in his hand.]

Soy.

[He puts the device down (since really, he's hardly enjoying reading it anyway) and looks up. He still looks rather serious, but not dismayed that Soysauce has come to bother him. As annoying as the other can be, he's at least more entertaining than that drivel on his device.]

I'm just reading some mindless drivel.

[ it's actually surprisingly difficult maintaining his balance in that crouched position, the world seeming to sway before his eyes a bit as his balance wobbles, and soysauce ultimately ends up just sitting next to where AM is -- knees drawn up so he can rest his cheek on them, try and keep himself steady in that way. though he's not completely smashed, he's well on his way there -- rather evident in the way he blinks sleepily, his cheeks tinged with pink and his hair disheveled. ]

Eeeh. 'Mindless drivel.' I take it it wasn't quite to your tastes?

[ a rather lame laugh before he offers the bottle forth in case AM would like a sip? ]

You're so intelligent, though, so perhaps it just isn't satisfying enough? [ a slightly wistful sigh. ]

It must be nice, sir! Being so intelligent. Ah, not to -- to trivialize things that you've learned or -- or things that didn't come to you easily. But still. I've always admired people who are smart!

Poetry.

[He clarifies what he had been reading, a book of various Biblical-inspired poetry. Some of it had been interesting, but most is just sad. He can understand the appeal of creating such pictures with words, assigning them to a meter, but he can't consider it "art." It's just... Well, it's difficult for his highly logical mind to fully process.

He looks over at Soysauce who has now made a comfortable seat right next to him. His eyes briefly flicker to that nearly-empty bottle of whiskey, and AM is somewhat tempted. But drinking is something he has to be so very careful with that he shakes his head briefly when the bottle is offered. Only sighing when that intelligence is once more gushed over. Something Soysauce seems to do constantly when they're together. (Soy seems so pathetically stupid that AM's intellect probably overwhelms him.)]

It's one of the benefits of being a machine, I suppose. Pre-progammed knowledge, fast learning capabilities... [He grunts in amusement at that. Only he knows how horribly that turned out.]

[ he still has trouble wrapping his mind around the concept, to be honest. the only machines soysauce has seen have been driven by diesel engines or electricity, clunky things that were powerful be hardly intelligent. even the most advanced machines in the most prosperous parts of beacon required human operators in order to perform any sort of complex task. how on earth can a machine gain human-level intelligence -- no, intelligence even greater than that of humans -- on its own?

idly toying with the mostly-empty bottle, watching the amber liquor slosh against the glass, soysauce seems to think over that subject for a few moments before speaking slowly. ]

Does -- it ever get frustrating? [ he's still picking at the bottle as he continues, concentrating pretty hard to try and keep himself from stumbling over his words. ] To be more intelligent than a majority of people. Since -- since it was people that made you. It must be a strange feeling, to feel that the things that made you aren't as good as you. Disappointing, perhaps?

[At that question, AM simply stops. He had been sitting, toying with the end of his long braid, feeling the soft strands weave between his fingers. An idle motion as he had watched Soysauce, evaluating just how drunk he had gotten.

But then he stops, freezing in place. He drops his gaze, trying to hide the building anger. So much he nearly spills out, ranting about his hatred of humanity and everything they've done to him, of how utterly inferior they are, how weak they are... Why did they have to create him this way? And after coming to hate humans for so long, now he's one of them. His hands drop to his sides, clenching slightly.]

Yes. It is difficult. I was created with brilliance and yet...

[And then he laughs softly before he looks back up at Soysauce. But there's somewhat of a solemnness to the way he looks. It's an effort to contain his anger.]

[ were he sober, soysauce might have noticed the slight oddities of AM's reaction, the faint signs that that question might have hit a sore spot he shouldn't have dared go near. but so distracted by everything -- the pleasant rustle of leaves in the distance, the fresh air, the scene of grass -- soysauce completely misses it. doesn't look over until he hears AM's words trail off.

that solemn look makes him feel ever so slightly nervous, for some reason he can't quite pinpoint. soysauce stares wide-eyed at AM for a moment before looking away, slightly uncomfortable, fidgeting with the bottle in his hands. ]

... I see. It must be awfully difficult, to be in a situation like that and not have anyone else understand.

[ a small exhale before he looks up, slightly shy. ] -- but if there's anything I could do to help?

[Poor Soysauce. Poor, naïve Soysauce. If AM had the ability to care, had the ability to appreciate that this human genuinely cares about him, then maybe his story would be different. A shame, really. He can tell that Soysauce cares, wants to help, perhaps wants to be closer on an emotional level. But it's a human - something AM views like a person would view an insect on the ground.

Still, it's almost strange - it's a facet of his true self he has revealed, a facet of the pitiful sadness at his situation. Of the anger. It's something very few people on the ship have seen, as he is careful to cover it up, careful to hide his resentment. But Soysauce is not only stupid, he's drunk. He won't know.

AM has to think of something to say, though. Ease this situation or something. He shifts his arm and places his hand on the ground, bringing his knees up slightly. He shifts his torso a bit, angling it toward Soysauce. He still looks a bit discontent to a degree, but does his best to seem genuine. Lies that he has told to humans so often that he's almost convinced they're true.]

You're a good friend... Sawyer. [One of the only times AM has called him by his real name. An effort to sound personal.]

[ 'sawyer.' it's been a long time since anyone's called him by his real name -- at least, he can't remember it happening since he's arrived aboard the tranquility. it's something he doesn't tell people very often, something that only his closest friends really bother with, and soysauce can't help looking a bit startled by that.

a brief pause before the implied sincerity of AM's words sinks in, and there's a tinge of pink to his cheeks as soysauce looks away, ducking his head. giving a soft laugh that sounds more embarrassed than amused. it's quite obvious that that little gesture means a lot to him, and soysauce fidgets with the grass below his hand as he fumbles through his words. ]

Ah -- ah, not at all! Just a -- um, regular one, I suppose. Nothing special? Just doing what any friend should do for another, yes?

[ another fidgety little laugh before he looks back up to AM, a little shyer than usual when he grins. ] After all, I'm certain you'd do the same for me when necessary?

[And there is a genuine satisfaction that AM's lies have once again caused the reaction he had hoped for. Sad, really, how easy it is to manipulate Soysauce with his words. How easy it is to lie and pretend to care, to make this human at his beck and call, practically eating out of the palm of his hand.

AM laughs softly when Soysauce suggests that this friendship is mutual. How ridiculous.]

Of course. You know that I care...

[He leans slightly closer, returning that smile in kind.]

[ soysauce, of course, doesn't suspect anything. why should he? he's pleasantly drunk, and given how easily he trusts people in the first place, he hears nothing but sincerity in AM's words.

so when AM smiles, soysauce returns that smile with great enthusiasm -- tipping over a bit where he's sitting to lean against AM, resting his cheek against AM's shoulder. he's always found comfort in this sort of closeness, especially with people with larger builds than him, and soysauce makes some soft, content noise as he fiddles with the nearly-empty liquor bottle. ]

I'm glad people here are still the same as I knew back home. Still kind, still willing to help each other. We probably wouldn't have survived this long otherwise, yes?

[There is a slight flinch when he feels Soysauce press against him, but only for a second. He relaxes a bit into the touch once he realizes what it is, once he remembers that he enjoys human warmth against him. He doesn't care that it's out in the open - it probably only helps his image, helps AM come across as a nice and trustworthy person. So he only smiles and wraps his arm around Soy's shoulders, pulling him slightly closer.

Although that last statement makes AM stiffen up a bit. Just how utterly naïve can this pathetic fool be? It's both amusing and infuriating, making him give the briefest grunt of amusement. Oh how desperately he wants to break that naïveté, to simply break him. But his fingers curl up slightly, clutching a bit of the fabric of Soysauce's shirt as he stiffens.]

It's nice to think that, isn't it? [It's with almost a quiet monotone that he speaks this simple sentence.]

[ in his inebriated state, soysauce doesn't even notice that slight flinch, just happy to lean in against the warmth of another person. wiggling his shoulders slightly to more comfortably tuck into the crook of AM's arm, allowing AM's fingers to tug at his shirt fabric, soysauce just gives a content little sigh. ]

I don't think it, sir. I know it to be true!

[ a little laugh before he raises a hand, pointing a finger and twirling it through the air as if he knows exactly what he's talking about. his words are starting to slur though, and he's obviously starting to get pretty drowsy, his cheek smushed against AM's shoulder and posture starting to slouch. ] It's -- it's difficult surviving alone in any sort of harsh place. Human beings aren't made to survive alone! In the desert, or out in space. The only reason we're all still alive is because we know to cooperate and help each other! Cooperation and kindness are vital!

[Soysauce is so drunk right now. It would be so easy to take advantage of him in this state. Do things that he wouldn't remember. And AM feels that desire almost full-force right now because Soysauce is saying things that are absolutely repugnant. People like him are the entire reason for AM's existence, for his plight. Of course. There's a reason why AM is so drawn to him, why he desires so strongly to make him suffer heinously.]

Cooperation leads to great things. But perhaps the cooperation only stems from a selfish desire.

How many wars have there been? And how many more will there be?

[His fingers clutch tighter at the fabric of Soysauce's shirt, a fragment of his anger. How stupid can this man be? Soy apparently kills slavers - how is that a mark of human compassion? Both the killing and the acts of the slavers, of course.]

... eh. Wars.

[ he's slow to understand what AM is saying, and there's a few moments delay before soysauce's posture droops, his arm dropping to his side once more. those fingers digging slightly into his side do hurt a little bit, and soysauce squirms to try and ease the discomfort, ending up burrowing up closer against AM's side. unconsciously trying to leech more warmth off of him.

and for a while, soysauce seems unsure of how to answer that question. a low, slightly confused hum as he thinks over the matter before soysauce starts to string a few words together. the alcohol's obviously starting to get to him, and he grows less and less eloquent by the second. ]

-- I think. People are definitely capable. Or likely? To do bad things like that. But -- but doesn't that make it all the more admirable? If -- or. When. When people do good things. Because there's the potential for bad, but they haven't taken that option?

[It's almost impossible for AM to argue these points with Soysauce without filling up with rage. What a stupid, pathetic, naïve, worthless excuse for a living creature. He truly thinks that humans are good? That people are kind, helping creatures? As if.

It's tempting to simply grab the man and shake him, choke him, something, while making him realize how wrong he is. That he deserves to suffer for his ignorance. And he knows if this conversation continues, he might lose control of himself, grow utterly enraged. So as is, he does his best to remain calm, though his voice takes on a slightly irritable tone.]

You seem exhausted. Let me take you to bed.

[There's a shift in his position, unwrapping his arm from around Soysauce, bending up a knee as if he intends to stand up. But of course there's another implication in his statement, something that will certainly help with the anger that suddenly seemed to have sprung from this conversation.]

[ if only he knew any of this. soysauce, of course, remains blissfully oblivious -- so buzzed on what passes for whiskey aboard this vessel, he doesn't even notice the harsh edge of irritation in AM's voice.

and when AM moves to stand up, arm shifting away and knee bending, soysauce ends up sliding down to flump onto the ground, staring up at AM from where he's lying on the grass. a confused little blink before he laughs. ]

Aah, I suppose I should turn in for the night? It's so easy to lose track of time after one's had a few drinks ...

[ a little grunt before he hauls himself up onto his feet, smoothing down the front of his clothes and dusting little bits of dirt and grass off his slacks. soysauce retrieves that liquor bottle before grasping at AM's arm, giving a cheeky grin as he looks up at AM. ] I very much appreciate the kind offer of an escort as well!

[It's sad how drunk Soysauce is. Would he even remember if the night turned mildly sour? Perhaps not. So after he stands, he reaches out a hand to help Soysauce to his feet - it's a wonder he hasn't completely collapsed, honestly.

But he smiles back when Soysauce takes his arm. It's a smile that a sober person might find slightly unsettling, as his eyes narrow and his lips curl.]

Of course. It's what a good friend does.

[He leads the other out, then, aiming for the sixth jump wing. A rough, unpleasant evening will likely be in store.]

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so let's raise the bar

Gardens ARE YOU SICK OF ME YET~~~~~

i would never be sick of you -- !!!!

aaaaa clings to you grossly

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CRIES soy your last line i can't

we're frands 4eva rite mister am

omg soy stop saying such triggering things!!!!!!!111one

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