03 ▒ EVENT: STRELA OUTPOST ▒ ASSIMILATION

[ataraxites]

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: Strela Outpost.
WARNINGS: Mind horror, hivemindery, etc.
SUMMARY: Communal brainwashing.
NOTES: Divided by locations; players are free to indicate which day/stage, and to begin new subthreads wherever they'd like!

Looks like the authorities have apprehended you and have brought you in for processing. After being forced to wait in the waiting room, you're brought to the assimilation room - a terrible white cell, where you're trapped for hours, sentenced to be slowly stripped of your individuality.

Comments

[adlered]

[ The part that bothers Irene more than just how she allowed herself to get caught is that like Josias, she's spent enough time learning people to not notice something was off. But of course, there's a difference between knowing that something is wrong and knowing that perhaps you need to tone your natural actions down just to blend in.

If Irene had originally blended in and found herself in his position, she would have done the same thing he's doing. Sometimes to save yourself, you sacrifice others. Survival of the fittest, really.

She registers him speaking somewhat, a bit too engrossed in calming down before she finally speaks, trying to act as if he didn't see her charge out of there, running in what was admittedly, a rather damning fashion. ]

Escaped is the proper term. [ She pauses and finally looks at him. ] How obvious? [ How obvious do I look is the complete question, but it's one she doesn't feel like completely asking. ]

[stimulations]

[She's obviously been through some sort of ordeal, one that Josias doesn't want to take the time to imagine at this point, nor is there the time to ask about it. There was something admirable in a person, clearly still scared, taking the time to correct his vocabulary, and he smiles slightly, and does her the respect of not going against the calm she's gathering by asking if she's okay.]

Obvious enough. [He holds her gaze for a moment, then looks away, checking their surroundings. Still blessedly empty, but he wasn't going to make the mistake of assuming it would stay that way. There was a storeroom he'd hacked into a short way down, they could at least hide in there 'til she was ready for the trip back to the shuttles.] If you need a little more time to rest, I recommend doing it elsewhere.

[adlered]

[ Somewhere in the back of Irene's mind, she's thanking him for not asking. She knows she looks horrible (feels horrible for that matter) and the lack of questioning is a welcome thing. ]

Last time I ran like that I was in a place where that would have been par for the course. [ She watches him look around with a faint bit of interest. She had been so focused on running that the idea of someone spotting her as she stopped to breathe for a bit didn't entirely occur to her. But with how he's looking around, it hits her almost like a ton of bricks. ] Does that recommendation come with a suggestion?

[stimulations]

It's empty smiles and sedate movements around here. [Mentioned almost idly before he looks back, and in another situation he'd be all too ready to ask where exactly she'd been, and why she'd been running. The present danger was enough to dull his curiosity down - or at least have it set aside.] As most good recommendations do. [A slight nod, a tilt of his head in the direction of the storeroom.] This way.

[He turns to lead the way, not running, but not the same pace he'd been keeping to blend in with the locals. None around at the moment, and no time to waste. The door's a far lesser challenge than it was the first time around, and he has it open within a minute, standing back to let her enter first.]

[adlered]

I'd say I've seen emptier ones, but they make certain other smiles seem like they were filled with joy. I have seen more sedate movements though. [ Any other time and Irene would continue to chat in the open area with him, but she knows that the way she ran raised an alarm or two and as tempting as being caught sounded, it wasn't exactly the best of plans.

She follows him, keeping pace until he stops at the door. His actions breaking into it serve to confirm her suspicions on who he was. Her brain registers it in an abstract sort of way, and she knows that once she's calm, she'll decide on what exactly that means for her and for him. Once he opens the door, she slides in normally to avoid suspicion and waits until he's inside with her to say anything. ]

The people who make the good recommendations don't typically escort someone to their suggestion. [ She chooses the word escort because it's accurate, but she also knows the other meaning. And she knows he does too. ]

[stimulations]

[Getting the storeroom open would have been far easier if it was technology he was used to, virtual interfaces rather than a physical input, but he'd been dealing with the Tranquility's technology for long enough now to have enough of an understanding. It still wasn't to his usual level, which was frustrating, but now was hardly the time to be complaining about that sort of thing.

The storeroom appears to be as he left it - undisturbed from how he'd found it, minus a few small items - which boded well for them not receiving any unwanted visitors. Not that they would be staying long, he hoped. Getting back to the shuttles was still the priority.

He notices her choice in words, enough to pause for a moment and give a small smile. He assumes she must have seen his message on the network, but even with how unsubtle he'd been there, she was still obviously sharp. If conversation was going to help her calm further, he was all too willing to provide.]

That would depend entirely on the recommendation. [There are plenty of places he's had to escort people to, though usually, it was him being recommended in the first place. He moves over to a stack of crates at one side of the door - containing packets of some kind of grain, he'd found out earlier - and leans back against them lazily, as if there wasn't currently near and present danger potentially right outside the door.] A good spot to hide away from the brainwashed drones of a space station isn't my usual fare, though, I must say.

[adlered]

[ It's not necessarily banter, but it's a conversation she can work with, a conversation that makes her feel normal instead of one that reminds her how she almost lost who she was as a person. How she almost lost control over her entire being. She flashes him the same sort of smile, seemingly mimicking him, but at the same time, not really. ]

The kind of recommendation the two of us don't engage in. The one that requires directions to find your way to places. [ Irene has been recommended to people who wanted to be with a domme like her, but normally she doesn't need the recommendation. (Mentioning that perhaps someone needs to learn a bit of control isn't a recommendation, it's offering her services, because some people need what she does.)

There's another stack of crates near Irene and she does lean a bit against it, even if she doesn't want to necessarily show the weakness she can feel right now. ] Because of the space or the drones? Like I said, I've seen a few smiles that have been this empty.

[stimulations]

Both. I tend to avoid empty smiles, myself, even when they're not operating as some sort of mass force intent on capturing others. [His smile turns sharper, teeth white in the gloom of the storeroom.] Dreadfully dull.

[And he was a creature of interest, of curiosity. Dullness didn't suit him at all, was generally discarded as soon as it was discovered - even if smiles as empty as the kind she is likely describing usually have some incident behind them. Which, of course, left the question of where she'd been to witness them at all.]

I'm afraid you appear to have the advantage of me. [He says it as if it doesn't bother him, being in that position - though the phrasing is obviously geared to having the problem redeemed.] Not that I'm unhappy to meet a fellow... [He waves a hand, shoulders rising in something like a shrug.] whatever term it is you prefer.

[Sticky, often, the naming of his profession. He'd never seen the point in taking offence to many of the terms turned his way, but he'd met others who had.]