Lieutenant Ari Tayrey (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
astrogator) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2023-05-10 11:44 am
astrogator) wrote in come_sailaway2023-05-10 11:44 am
We'd be alright if the wind were in our sails
Who: Arilanna Tayrey and You!
What: She's still alive and she has a lot of feelings about this (aftermath of event)
When: Post-event, catch-all for May
Where: Outside her cabin, shops, bars, lounge, around the ship in general
Warnings: She's likely to be depressive, possible talk of suicide and oblivion, property damage with a gun, will update with anything else.
1. another night in jail wouldn't do us any harm [existing CR, outside her cabin/texts]
[Sparkles vanished. She can't fault the decision; she'd want to vanish too, if they'd been in each other's places. What this tells her, however, is that there's nothing more she can do right now. Exhausted, Tayrey retreats to her cabin. Some good has been done here, she knows. The dimmed lights are testament to that. The tormented souls are free. But Ari Tayrey herself? She's right back where she started, trapped on this ship, surrounded by people who are now even more pleased to be there than before. Happy prisoners.
She can't bear to be around them. She can't bear to be around anyone, it's as if the lack of privacy she had no choice but to endure has rubbed every nerve raw, and she needs to recover. She scrubs herself clean, getting rid of every trace of sand, every trace of that ordeal. Before she sleeps, she barricades the door, just in case there's anyone cruel enough to try to disturb her.
Talk to her through the door, if you're not worried about making a habit of it. Or text her. Either way, nobody's getting in for several days.]
2. a bottle of rum wouldn't do us any harm [open, shops or bars]
[When she finally ventures outside again, it's for a perfunctory look around, an assessment of what she's missed. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the supply issues catch her attention first. For now, she's not personally worried. Her stockpiles are very healthy – but she's also aware that they're not infinite, and what is currently an erratic restocking system might quickly get worse.
Find her with a backpack, filling it with whatever looks useful. Depending on where you are, that might be packaged food, or it might be alcohol. Brandy and port and beer. This isn't done in busy areas, but she's not really trying to hide it either. In fact, if anyone approaches her, she'll raise a hand in greeting. No smile, though. She's busy.]
3. if the devil's in the road we'll roll it over him [open, various places]
[She's heard it all now. That Yato never returned from that room. That neither did Shiranui. Incongruously, her first reaction was anger. How could he do that? Confess his feelings for her, leave her no choice but to disappoint him, and then disappear? It isn't right. Ari's emotions are so conflicted she struggles to unpick them at all. She's grieving for the loss of a friend, but also for the loss of something that could never have existed, no matter what she felt for him.
She'd been careless. This is why Tradeliners don't get attached.
Her only solution is to keep herself busy. Even more patrols of the ship than before, and long hours bent over her astronomy texts as if she and not Crichton were the one with hidden knowledge that sufficient effort might reveal. Once, she even falls asleep over an open book in the lounge – something she'll be very flustered over if anyone ventures to wake her.
Or find Ari sitting on the ground, gun in her hand, firing short blasts at a nearby wall. The dark scorch marks leave patterns, and she links them together with a thick marker pen. Star charts. Trading lines. A map writ large, drawn out on a ship that no longer seems to be mending itself. An image in reverse, a negative, bright stars rendered as dark stains, signs of damage. And yet it's all very careful, very precise, and there's a strange sort of beauty in it, for those willing to see it.
If she's approached, she'll lower the gun, give the person an expectant look.]
or a wildcard
[Contact me via PM or at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
MillisaK for a custom starter or to discuss other ideas!]
What: She's still alive and she has a lot of feelings about this (aftermath of event)
When: Post-event, catch-all for May
Where: Outside her cabin, shops, bars, lounge, around the ship in general
Warnings: She's likely to be depressive, possible talk of suicide and oblivion, property damage with a gun, will update with anything else.
1. another night in jail wouldn't do us any harm [existing CR, outside her cabin/texts]
[Sparkles vanished. She can't fault the decision; she'd want to vanish too, if they'd been in each other's places. What this tells her, however, is that there's nothing more she can do right now. Exhausted, Tayrey retreats to her cabin. Some good has been done here, she knows. The dimmed lights are testament to that. The tormented souls are free. But Ari Tayrey herself? She's right back where she started, trapped on this ship, surrounded by people who are now even more pleased to be there than before. Happy prisoners.
She can't bear to be around them. She can't bear to be around anyone, it's as if the lack of privacy she had no choice but to endure has rubbed every nerve raw, and she needs to recover. She scrubs herself clean, getting rid of every trace of sand, every trace of that ordeal. Before she sleeps, she barricades the door, just in case there's anyone cruel enough to try to disturb her.
Talk to her through the door, if you're not worried about making a habit of it. Or text her. Either way, nobody's getting in for several days.]
2. a bottle of rum wouldn't do us any harm [open, shops or bars]
[When she finally ventures outside again, it's for a perfunctory look around, an assessment of what she's missed. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the supply issues catch her attention first. For now, she's not personally worried. Her stockpiles are very healthy – but she's also aware that they're not infinite, and what is currently an erratic restocking system might quickly get worse.
Find her with a backpack, filling it with whatever looks useful. Depending on where you are, that might be packaged food, or it might be alcohol. Brandy and port and beer. This isn't done in busy areas, but she's not really trying to hide it either. In fact, if anyone approaches her, she'll raise a hand in greeting. No smile, though. She's busy.]
3. if the devil's in the road we'll roll it over him [open, various places]
[She's heard it all now. That Yato never returned from that room. That neither did Shiranui. Incongruously, her first reaction was anger. How could he do that? Confess his feelings for her, leave her no choice but to disappoint him, and then disappear? It isn't right. Ari's emotions are so conflicted she struggles to unpick them at all. She's grieving for the loss of a friend, but also for the loss of something that could never have existed, no matter what she felt for him.
She'd been careless. This is why Tradeliners don't get attached.
Her only solution is to keep herself busy. Even more patrols of the ship than before, and long hours bent over her astronomy texts as if she and not Crichton were the one with hidden knowledge that sufficient effort might reveal. Once, she even falls asleep over an open book in the lounge – something she'll be very flustered over if anyone ventures to wake her.
Or find Ari sitting on the ground, gun in her hand, firing short blasts at a nearby wall. The dark scorch marks leave patterns, and she links them together with a thick marker pen. Star charts. Trading lines. A map writ large, drawn out on a ship that no longer seems to be mending itself. An image in reverse, a negative, bright stars rendered as dark stains, signs of damage. And yet it's all very careful, very precise, and there's a strange sort of beauty in it, for those willing to see it.
If she's approached, she'll lower the gun, give the person an expectant look.]
or a wildcard
[Contact me via PM or at
no subject
[She's hurting too much right now for any sort of forgiveness. Most of that damage wasn't caused by Erin, but it all builds up. Past the point of breaking strain, that's how she'd put it. And yet here she still is.]
I wish you had a slate computer like mine, it'd be the easiest thing to set up a remote conference by holovid and we could talk this out. You know I've always wanted to understand. All the questions, right? It was just never personal, before.
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Two.
Four.
Relevant question can you investigate foreign technology without destroying it.
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It cannot be replaced. But if you think you can get video function enabled between your cheese and mine I am willing to try it.
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I'll do my best, and I'll proceed cautiously. Better to fail in establishing a connection and keep it intact than push too far and break it.
You can leave it outside the door.
[Two minutes later:]
I also have a communicator from home that isn't functional here, but I could reconfigure it for short range - if the holovid doesn't work out, how are you with radio?
[Yes, Ari thinks an Earther-style phone exists only to send text messages.]
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Does every space faring culture across dimensions just invent that? Yours is the third of three. Anyway radio would be functionally equivalent to video for me as on a video call I still cannot see you. If you would prefer to be able to see me I will leave the scroll and knock once to let you know it is there and if you prefer radio just hit me with the inverse.
All questions answered either way. I cannot promise good answers but there will be answers.
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It's a useful invention! Leave the scroll. I'll see which if any of my devices I can push compatibility with. Like I said, not an engineer, but I'll do my best.
I'm not sure that I have many questions. The situation is what it is - but I'm happy to talk.
Lmk if you need info on scrolls from RWBY that's what it is
About three minutes later, Erin's heavy boots approach Ari's door. There is a single knock, and then the heavy steps move away immediately.
I looked them up, all good! :D
Careful or I'll think you're inviting me for an overnight! To see just how spicy the questions can get.
[Erin knows how things are for Tradeliners, so it's only a little teasing! (She doesn't yet know Shiranui's fate, or it'd be too painful to tease anyone like that.) She retrieves the scroll, and is pleased to see it's not actually some roll of paper or plastic.]
Received it. I'll be in touch again when I've figured it out.
[Compatibility is possible. It'll just take some effort on Tayrey's part.]
Glorious! Timeskip to communication setup?
Sure!
She doesn't wait too long before starting the call. Even though Erin won't be able to see her, she makes an effort, setting up at her desk. Very professional.]
Erin, this is Tayrey with the- [Prosperity, she'd almost said. Old habit. She tries again, more solemnly.] This is Tayrey. How's the signal?
Re: Sure!
Erin herself? Short of perfection. She's clearly not been sleeping, which is saying something given how hard her Wyrd works to make her look good even when she's feeling like shit. She can't stop scrubbing at her blindfold, where eyes would be if she had 'em. "Good to hear your voice. Peace and prosperity, Tayrey."
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[Because you don't ever not return that greeting unless you're being actively hostile, and that's not where she is.]
So. We can talk here, freely. Although I meant it. I don't have much to say. What you did was a violation, and not something I'll forget.
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She goes through four cups like this before the fifth still has tea in it.
"...Y'know, the ironic thing about it all is I ended up having a privacy talk with Max Maximum - you met him yet? - a bit after...ours. Been weighing on my mind, I guess."
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You can't stop it, sure. But I told you plenty about my culture and my values; you must have had a fair idea that if I knew, I wouldn't be comfortable around you. With that intrusion. So you decided to keep doing it to me covertly. That's the betrayal. The breach of contract.
[She sighs.] I know Maximum. He doesn't strike me as the most privacy-focused person. Why, what did he say?
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"You're gonna get this a lot faster than he did," Erin begins by way of warning. "And like, up front, I don't currently have access to the sorcery I'm about to describe to you. I do know it, I practiced it at home, can't do it here. I'll let you know if that changes." She takes a long drink of her tea and makes a face. "My Court uses a trick that lets us know and understand someone's Desires. A powerful witch can even sense Desires a person doesn't know they have. Question I put to him was, if you use that to get something you want from a person - a bargain, an oath, sex, whatever - is that ethical?"
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[She doesn't hesitate for a moment.]
Any intrusion into a person's private mind without consent is unethical. Doesn't matter if you're using it for unfair leverage in negotiating or to get ideas for throwing them a party. It's wrong.
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Despite being brought to the thing it's a long moment before Erin continues, during which she's mainly swirling her tea while she stares at the paper cup with her no eyes.
"...I do value privacy, Tayrey. My people value privacy. It's a hard thing for us to come by, not for the exact same reasons as yours but for ones close enough to rhyme. I think I told you already that like, a hundred of us in one spot is almost a population crisis, biggest Freeholds in the world used to not breach two hundred and they were nightmares to manage. There was no avoiding learning shit that was not your fuckin' business, so...privacy, for us, was often about not asking and not telling, deliberately creating and then respecting boundaries. And...that's...gonna be the case a lot here, y'know? Like, Ylva, right, my girl? She's a wolf. She can't exactly not smell fear off a scared person, or, y'know, detect if you've developed an irregular heartbeat or cancer. I've got my Glamour. We've got at least one antimeme that I can remember and it's not like they can turn that off; can they be held responsible for what they overhear because people just can't fuckin' notice them?"
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What Erin says next, however, makes her brow furrow deeply in concern. It's too much. It's all unbearably too much.
'I don't know if I told you, but some of the best advice I got in training was that it's okay to feel whatever you feel. In our line of work, you're going to be scared sometimes. Nervous. Angry. Whatever. And my mentors told me that it wasn't shameful to feel any of that, because what's in your head, what's private, isn't what you get judged on. What matters is what you do. Whether you have the self-control to set the feelings aside and treat annoying stationers in a professional manner, or lead your own people through a dangerous situation. Whatever's necessary.'
She takes a deep breath. 'What you're telling me is that this is insufficient. That now I mustn't have any feelings at all, because people will know. I have to become a stone. Like one of those... monks Oda hates so much. I can do it, Erin, if I must, but it's going to take time, and until I can work out how to...shut everything down, I can't be around anyone - because apparently there are a lot of people violating my privacy without my knowledge whenever I step out my damn door.'
She's not doing well at being a stone right now. Quick breaths, clear distress in her voice.
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Another way the ship works actively to deny people their privacy. Erin taps her fingers together, hunched over in thought.
"...I'ma say something you already know; context informs cultural technologies. Honoring one's dead through mummification is something you come up with when you live in a desert, not a forest, y'know? Your context has changed; you are not solely among human people any more, and those inhuman people still mean well, and don't want to hurt you."
(Siffleur.)
"Mostly don't want to hurt you," Erin corrects. "I'm hoping, genuinely, that the ring might help, and that's one potential solution, but...well, I'm guessing I'm asking if you can accept, or at least try, to meet them where they are. I'd bet you the kidney of your choice that if you asked Ylva not to talk about what she may learn by mistake, she'd do it. It doesn't even have to be my kidney if you've got your eye on a nice one someone else has." Erin flickers a wan half-smile, trying to be clear she's joking.
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She has been trying not to think of it, since her campaign to stop people looking in that room got precisely nowhere. She's still not over the horror of all that time trapped in a room with all those people, and staying in her cabin alone indefinitely is sounding ever more appealing.
'You're right about cultural context, but what you're missing is that cultural diversity only works when people respect one another's boundaries. I might think it's daft that some colonists won't shake a spacer's hand in case we're carrying offworld pathogens, but I wouldn't force physical contact on them.'
She shakes her head. 'I can't do what you're asking. Someone else asked me that, about Valdis. Couldn't I allow it, accept it, because it's not fair to her not to experience my emotions? As if I didn't matter at all. As if the hurt it caused me was nothing, because oh, someone else wants what you consider private, so better give it up, Tayrey!'
She's still angry with Nobunaga about the stance he took on the matter. Her next words, though, are calmer. 'You may have noticed that I'm not a self-sacrificing sort of person. Here's my line. No. No, I don't want anyone poking inside my mind for any reason. That does harm to me. Whether Ylva keeps it to herself or gossips to everyone on the ship is really only secondary.'
Another deep breath. 'But as you say, people can't help it. So if that's the case, if they can't change, then I have to change myself. By avoiding them, or by developing the sort of self-control that will make that avoidance unnecessary. I don't know how I'd know if your ring worked. I managed to block out Valdis, somehow. I wish I had my geneticist to talk to.'
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The surprise is completely genuine and it even cuts through Erin's exhaustion. She'd be blinking if she had eyes.
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'My geneticist. From the team who designed my genetic modifications. They're experimental, so I was supposed to check in regularly... not that I did that. Went out to space instead.'
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Deep breath. Deep sip. "I'm explicitly not asking you to just accept things as they are. You've got strident principles and firm boundaries and y'know, I respect that. I don't think I get to not respect that from my throne of 'touch me without permission and I'll stab you without a single apology'. If I didn't the ring wouldn't be on offer, y'know? I meant it when I said back there that if you don't want me to harvest from or even around you, I won't. It'll be annoying in the same way trying not to scratch my nose is annoying but, y'know...I value your friendship, Tayrey. I want to help. If I'm asking for your understanding it's 'cause I have to be the monster among conventional people and that...encourages sympathy for others in the same situation."
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How many cups does she have there? Hot drinks aren't a sensible thing to try to stockpile. Tayrey blinks, refocuses.
'From what you've told me, not harvesting anything won't alter the situation. It's that it happens at all that bothers me, not that you profit from it.' She sighs. 'If we can't find a solution, then any friendship between us is going to have to be over distance, like this. That's the best I can offer.'
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wrap here and I'll start a new thread for testing?
Glorious. Erin's open or inbox works great for me