ataraxionlogs | letting the days go by, into silent water [open]

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letting the days go by, into silent water [open]

CHARACTERS: Murphy Pendleton and you.
LOCATION: Anywhere. This is pretty much a free-for-all of CR.
WARNINGS: Insert the usual Silent Hill disclaimer here.
SUMMARY: Insomnia hits. Friendly neighborhood convict takes a little stroll.

He couldn't sleep.

Granted, this was nothing new and exciting. If nothing else, it was fucking tedious. His brief spell of excessive sleeping habits died real fast after the jump wired Murphy up all over again.

It wasn't always this bad. In fact, he used to sleep a fair bit. There wasn't much else to do during his alone time in prison, so it had been the only resort next to going stir-crazy with boredom.

Even with Anne in the same room these days, Murphy still felt the nagging urge to escape the closing walls of his ~~cell~~ bedroom. Unlike Ryall, he could at least work off his restlessness by stretching his legs. There were still places that he hadn't yet seen, grounds that he hadn't yet covered. He could scratch this itch. He could.

So he just wandered for awhile. Aimlessly, as usual. He almost felt dazed. But it was good to be out. Not free, not safe, though close enough to settle on the fact that his present situation proved to be more favorable than where he had been coming from, in ways.

That was just sad.

Murphy, this is your life right now. Take a good long look at it.

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The smile disappeared as curiosity struck her. Murphy had been acting strangely since they arrived at the room and, for some reason, he thought that something else was going to happen. The whole situation seemed familiar all of sudden...

Even after the ordeal with Scout, she realized that she still couldn't catch what double-meanings spewed from her mouth. Everything she said had been for scientific observation, so the meanings Murphy would have interpreted were unknown to her.

"Have you been misunderstanding me? I only meant to help you with your sleep problem. I can't allow anything more than that..."

All of a sudden, Murphy felt like a complete idiot -- and for the very opposite reason than Scout did, of course.

"Shit... I mean. No, that's... good. I was..." Worried? This time, he really did smack a hand over his forehead, if only to hide his face from the sheer amount of awkward that was going on. "Ugh... Sorry 'bout that."

Now he didn't want to make it seem like he was expecting anything else from her, though. Christ, he used to be so bad at this kind of thing before; his total social ineptitude sometimes baffled him even now.

Women.

There was a brief moment where Cibo thought that Murphy had been in some sort of pain - holding his head and fumbling his words. In whatever attempt to comfort him she could think of, she moved her hand to take his from his face.

"You shouldn't be sorry. It was a misunderstanding. It seems to happen often."

Cibo had also felt a little embarrassed, letting a conversation go on like that without realizing for a second time. An embarrassment that she tried to hide with another small smile, "Should we talk about it? Perhaps I could explain."

If nothing else, his head was sure in a lot of pain, but not exactly in the way that Cibo probably had in mind.

Murphy couldn't help but apologize, and felt like apologizing again, and once over after that. Regret was practically programmed into him. She took his hand, which was undoubtedly meant to help calm him, but had a tendency to have an opposite effect at times. This being one of them. It was bad enough that he was more tense than he had been before.

"Maybe, I... uh, sure. Talking is... good. Fine." He liked talking. Who didn't? "Er, sorr--"

He stopped himself before he apologized again and sounded like a broken record. His eyes fixed on his hand that had been pulled away rather than facing Cibo herself.

"I really am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You should sit down." And there she was now gently guiding him into the room and to the bed for him to sit. There was an obvious lack of spare furniture in the room, but she found that standing a few feet from Murphy suited her well enough.

This gave her some time to watch him as he adjusted. She had always been pretty bad at reading deeply into emotions like this; usually coming to her own assumptions in which her misunderstood words were to blame.

Had she upset him that badly?

"What you thought I was implying... That doesn't happen where I'm from. That's why it must have been strange for you and so normal for me. I just don't think about anything like that. At all."

He wasn't about to argue. Actually, he found himself too tired to even make the effort. She wasn't being cruel or teasing as most might be and, as Cibo then clarified after Murphy had taken a seat, that hadn't been the case in the first place.

At all.

And sorry, he started to say again, at the risk of making a whole cycle that wasn't going to help the situation in any way. He snapped his mouth shut, and just let the moment register rather than making things any worse than they already were.

The worst part about it was, he was frustrated. In many ways. It wasn't as if Murphy was any good at reading people before, he felt like an alien when trying to make conversation with them half of the time. Which, considering where they were, was actually kind of the case.

He sat there without saying anything that might result putting a foot in his mouth, slouched over the bed in what looked like an uncomfortable posture.

"...I get it. It's fine, don't... don't worry about it. I have a problem -- figurin' out what's strange and what's normal sometimes, too."

"It's possible that's because of your sleeping habit."

Scientifically speaking, which she had been trying to do the entire time, this would be correct. The weakness of the body would begin to confuse the mind as it struggled for control of consciousness. If she were correct at all, his body was ready to shut down at any time.

Even then, Cibo could feel her own legs tire as she stood there speaking to Murphy. A certain desire in the back of her mind tried to draw her near the bed. Instead, she stepped back against the wall and moved slowly to sit, her legs outstretched across the floor in front of her.

"I feel so weird being in this place. Everything is so different than The City. Especially the people and the way you all speak."

"Not really. It's... been an ongoing thing." Murphy was loathe to bring up the fact that being incarcerated from the general population undoubtedly had a lot to do with it. But that was the truth, and not something that he felt comfortable bringing up in casual conversation.

That was, if you could call this conversation in any way casual.

Shit.

He leaned forward, still slouching, elbows now resting over his knees now as he just sat on the edge of the bed. He appreciated Cibo giving him a little bit of distance while he attempted to straighten his head out on his own.

"Trust me, you're not the only one who feels that way." Hell, Murphy had talked to old timey people who used archaic phrases that made Murphy feel like a bumbling, illiterate idiot at times.

"At least we're in similar situations then."

Cibo fell quiet. She had been watching Murphy to observe him, but she found her glance falling to the space in front of her. The way her legs stretched across the floor of this foreign place. The same bothersome memory that this place wasn't The City was hitting her again. Her mind wandered into a horrid memory or two for the few moments she was silent.

Perhaps her eyes gave it away or a small twitch in her fingers, but she was in a painful memory. She came from it slowly and her gaze wandered up to Murphy.

"Heh. You'd be surprised with how many people share that sentiment." In that regard, Murphy didn't feel completely alienated from all of them.

Asides from glancing occasionally at her, Murphy just felt Cibo's eyes on him. Another feeling that he was too familiar with -- being watched. It was a disgusting familiarity that, just because he was used to it, didn't mean he liked it very much. He nervously itched the back of his neck before dropping his arm down to his knee again.

Too quiet, man. Say something.

"...So, uh, when you say it's different here, is it a... good, or bad -- different?" Because judging on personal opinion and some of the people he'd talked to thus far, this whole situation was a mixed blessing.

The Tranquility was sure to have its own dangers at some point, but compared to The City...

"Good, but..." The words left her mouth almost faster than she could think of them. Eyes left him again and faced downward to her hands which were resting in her lap.

At times, Cibo could still taste the stench of blood and rust in her mouth. Some of the eerie echos of the ship would bring back a certain familiarity, forcing her adrenaline to run out of survival instinct. The only thing she truly missed about being trapped within the layers and layers of metal structures was Killy. No doubt that he was alive, but was he looking for her at this very moment? How many long years would Killy search before he realized that Cibo wasn't there anymore?

For the first time of their meeting, Cibo was the one who seemed truly uncomfortable. The cleanness of her skin and hair, the silence aboard the ship, clothing that wasn't her own - all of it made her itch. It was luxurious in a way she never knew and when she thought of it, the more impossible it seemed that she was even sitting there; Existing in that space in front of Murphy. She felt detached from herself.

"There was someone..."

It was quite a gamble to figure out which people were better off where they were, and which ones actually wanted to return home. Murphy wasn't that good at reading people; he never was.

With Cibo, it was a little different. Someone like her, it was hard to imagine the woman coming from a place made of sunshine and rainbows. Her answer confirmed any doubts and reservations that he might have had, though.

"Oh." He paused, his eyes shifting. "Sorry to hear... I mean, I'd say they might show up, but that's... not always a good thing."

Moments like these, Murphy felt so selfishly fortunate. He also forgot sometimes that, just because he didn't leave anyone behind at home, it wasn't always the same for others.

No, all he could ever ask for, he had here. Even though he sort of felt mixed with Anne being here, only because he felt that she didn't deserve it. But then, who did? Who was the judge of the deserving ones when the good people suffered, anyway?

Killy probably wouldn't know what to do with himself. No where to go and nothing to do? Being trapped on the Tranquility would drive him absolutely mad. Killy needed The City. He was made for that horrible place.

"He'll be fine there. It's just an odd sensation being away from him. I can't really describe it." Maybe in a different time and place — a whole other reality — she would've understood some of the deeper emotions of her situation.

It felt like a long minute later that she had still been searching for a better explanation. Her eyes found his in desperation, "Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

The way Cibo described it, Murphy understood perfectly. Maybe on a different level, but he understood.

"No, I get it. I don't think this place is exactly cut out for everyone. Though, uh... sometimes, you might be surprised."

If anyone asked Murphy how he would feel about someone like Anne Cunningham showing up on a spaceship with him, he would've laughed nervously and changed the subject. That was back then.

It did concern him, knowing the kind of people that he was stuck on board with. Some handled it better than others. The only difference was how they could actually cope with change.

"No. I feel I'm very right about this."

Taking Killy from where he belonged seemed like a horrible idea. She couldn't be sure how he would react being confined in such a place, especially if he was given his Gravitational Beam Emitter upon arrival. His attempt at the destruction of the Tranquility seemed like the most likely worst-case scenario if the weapon was functioning properly. ~~Unleashing a wild tiger into space, you could say.~~

A wrench in her gut forced her vision downward and her hands to casually wrap around her lean stomach. As she pulled her knees up closer to her body, she felt her voice grow soft, "Please, let's talk about something else."

Murphy wondered if some of the people already aboard just weren't cut out for this place, either. If maybe bringing them here was someone's way of acting out some kind of cruel punishment. It was wrong and unfair to them, but who was he to judge those that come and go?

He then wondered about that kid he'd ran into some time ago. A boy named Jared, who said he was taken from his father. Been awhile since the last time Murphy saw him.

Maybe Cibo was the same. Not as vulnerable, but just as harshly ripped away from someone that she cared about. Maybe it was just as cruel to say that he didn't have anything to look forward to...

"...Right, uh. No problem."

Judging by her sudden change of body language, coupled with Cibo's words, Murphy quickly got the message and didn't push. Rather, he grabbed his head and rattled his brain, trying to think of something more tactful than Seen any good movies lately?

"...Seen any good movies lately?"

Shit, that's not gonna fly.

The confusion caused by that question certainly was a much different feeling than what she was feeling moments ago, but it didn't help to put her mind at ease when she didn't understand what he was talking about. She had that problem with everyone though.

People aboard the Tranquility had considerably more knowledge of certain things. This wasn't insulting to Cibo's intelligence in any way — what she knew was all that her reality could provide for her. Of course she wouldn't have known of anything that may have been locked away on the Net Sphere. No one in The City had that kind of knowledge.

"What are movies...?"

Murphy raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? You've never seen a movie before?"

He wouldn't be so surprised, except that Cibo didn't strike him as being from one of the old-fashioned places like Alayne and her father were from. It seemed strange to him that anyone would have to ask that kind of question, but he was also meeting different kinds of people every day more and more.

"They're like... pictures that move on a screen to tell a story, like a... You know what a play is, right? Theater? D'you have any kinda entertainment where you're from?"

Murphy's words could not have flown any higher over Cibo's head unless they had hit the next planet. The far future was her home, yes, but all forms of entertainment had long-since been deemed wastes of time and risks for survival.

"A play? Theater? No. We don't know of anything like that. I actually don't think I'm very familiar with that word... Entertainment, you said?

But these 'movies' are a manipulation of images onto video-screens, right? Are they visual playbacks of someone's memory or data? I've shown others my memory in ways like that before."

"Er, kinda, and... not really. It's not really a memory, since it's like... there are these actors, and, they..." He gesticulated, not that it really helped but it was more of a force of habit. Always had to do something with his hands when he tried to explain things. "Dammit, I'm not any good at this..."

He rubbed his forehead briefly, before holding his hands back out again.

"Hey, you got your device on you, right? There should be a media library on it that you can find -- though it's... mostly just shitty soap operas."

Soap operas that Murphy may or may not have watched a significant chunk of.

Hey, he has to pass the time every now and then.

Cibo remembered placing the device near the foot of the bed when she entered the room. As she stood, she couldn't help but to let out another ignorant question. Voice quiet from embarrassment. She felt like she should have understood with certainty what he was saying, but didn't.

"Isn't soap what you humans use to clean dirt? Why would there be a 'movie' about that?" Not that she hadn't used soap during her stay at Tranquility, it was just such a foreign substance to her.

After bending over to take the device from her bed, she turned in an easy motion to sit near Murphy - leaving a gap, under the assumption he may have been uncomfortable being so close. Her fingers quickly skim through to the media center and stop there. She was confused of what to look at next.

Edited 2012-08-28 17:09 (UTC)

...It was more sad than anything.

The idea of someone being deprived of entertainment was appalling. However, it definitely explained a lot about Cibo, didn't it? Murphy seriously wouldn't have otherwise pegged her for being your average movie-goer at the theater, even then... Everyone was supposed to have their likes and dislikes.

"Erm, well... While you're here, soap's probably somethin' you should get used to." He gave her a look. Personal hygiene didn't seem like a high priority given the circumstances, though something about a woman like this not knowing what soap was struck Murphy was a little disconcerting. "Anyway, it's got nothin' to do with soap. They're just... dramas that revolve around people's lives."

He leaned over slightly when he saw the media center pop up on Cibo's device. It took Murphy long enough to figure it out (technology was never his forte), but when he did...

"Ah, there." He pointed at one of the titles on the screen suddenly. "That one's kinda tolerable, and that's... putting it loosely."

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letting the days go by, into silent water [open]

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