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
[Lieutenant Tayrey is a figure she knows filtered through what she overhears and what Erin tells her, as she does for anyone on the ship Helena asks after. still, it had been her voice offering that kindness on the bridge, the kindness that Helena had been trying to make the more violent minded pause long enough so that it might be extended before their weapons hit.
her decorating with gunfire can't really be scolded, in that light.]
Do you mind if I ask what you're making, Lieutenant?
no subject
No, I should apologise. I didn't mean to alarm anyone by it. I didn't think anyone was close by.
[So she explains:] I'm making a map on the wall, of the Keturah Line, which is the trading line my starship flies along. The marks I'm making are the stars, in just the right positions, or at least the best a two-dimensional representation can approximate. And I'm drawing in the trade route between them.
[She's making it sound like an art project, not the frustrated act of destruction it began as - but maybe that doesn't matter so much.]
no subject
What did you trade? That is, if you don't mind me asking about it - I'm always curious about other worlds and what goes on there.
no subject
My ship has carried all sorts of goods, since I've been aboard. The basics are most important - food or the means to grow it to struggling colonies, replacement parts for essential machinery, trace minerals or other materials needed for manufacturing. All that takes priority. If we've got room after that, though - we had a shipment of gold once! Slate computers, textiles, gemstones, all kinds of electronics. Whatever's going to be profitable.
We used to escort civilian ships along the lines too, and protect any colony under threat. That was first priority. Real valuable work, you know? And sometimes we'd visit unexplored planets, near the frontier. I loved that.
Were your people spacefaring?
no subject
the question about her own people lands, and she shakes her head a little.]
No, we only thought about such things in the realm of fiction. Granted, there are many things in this place that would have seemed impossible to my people - comparatively to others, mine still have so much more to discover and create before we're on their level.
[communication devices that allow her voice to become letters, and letters to be read to her. showers that never run cold. new stories, new music - it's still dizzying, even after however long she's been here. it's wonderful, to know how creative things will be, that life is surviving, that people can use magic, technology, both, to make things better.]
It's been so exciting to learn about it all. Both the technology that's present to use, and what goes on in other worlds...people's capacity for innovation seems almost boundless. And it makes one consider everything anew. Before I came here, I'd have thought the idea of space travel was preternatural, and now here I am wondering if one day I'll ever get to try it.
no subject
[It would delight her, if the circumstances weren't so horrible. If it wasn't forced.] I enjoy learning about how everything works in different places, too. The culture, and technologies - sometimes even different natural laws. [That which most people here would call magic, although Tayrey's choosing her words carefully, because what she enjoys is learning about new things, not being told that something is just magic and she shouldn't question how it works. That's immensely frustrating.]
[It's not lost on her how interested Helena was in her little explanation of the Tradelines.] I'd take you to space if I could. Someday. Show you what it's like out there. For now- [she thinks quickly] -maybe I could add texture to these charts of mine. Lines you could follow with your hand, not just drawn on. Little Braille labels for the stars and colonies. [She's not used to thinking like this, because being military, the Tradelines have fairly stringent physical requirements for their recruits, no adaptations required - but she's creative enough when she puts her mind to it.]
Before the - when we went to the hotel, one of my ship's transport shuttles turned up outside. I didn't get to take it up to space, because I thought there would be a barrier, and hitting it at speed would be... inadvisable. But I flew. Did you have any flying machines back home? Planes, or hovercars?
no subject
[it's not painful to remember her - Martha had always seemed so sure of herself, and that probably came from the army, from all her training. it's more the gentle fondness of someone you can't even write to. but Helena has her memories, has the woman's flare gun tucked away, the Erda seeing fit to hand it over. that's enough.]
But if you really meant it about the charts, I'd be beyond grateful. If you tell me how to spell things for the labels, I can help - you could even have them in both Braille and your usual lettering, since I doubt I'm the only one interested in them. [or even the only one who's blind, or has vision problems.] And whatever stories you want to share...I know it's forward of me to say, but I'd be happy to listen.
no subject
Of course I mean it! I'd love it if you would help. I didn't know if anyone would be interested, but I can put up labels in Sector Standard too. Make it all nice and informative. [Now she sounds more thoughtful] I still find it so strange that the translation works so well, most of the time. I'm lucky it does, or nobody would understand me at all! But yes, let's work together on this.
[She's tempted to invite Helena to fly with her, if she ever sees that shuttle again, but she refrains. It doesn't do to get people's hopes up, and if there's one thing she knows, it's that she's not going on any excursions without a very good reason.]
Would you really want to hear my spacer stories? I always like to talk about home. It keeps it real in my mind, you know? Other people knowing about it too. What's your preference - battle stories, or exploration, or unusual cultures? Natural phenomena? I was out on the lines for four standard years, I saw an awful lot - oh, but I've just realised I know so little about you! What did you do back home?
no subject
so, she smiles, shrugging her shoulders.]
Nothing of great note. I was a literature student, and about to begin my college education. That would have been my first real adventure. Spending all of my life in one general place, it makes me eager to experience other things, or to hear tales about anything from other places. Whatever people want to share and remember, I want to hear it, to know that somewhere out there, their life happened as well.
[Helena laughs a little, but it's good natured.]
It sounds so serious, when I put it like that.
no subject
It does sound a little serious, but that's no bad thing.
[Ari herself is the serious sort, after all.]
I grew up in a Company Tower. It wasn't that I was never allowed to leave, but - there was rarely any reason to, when I was a child, and there were dangers on the ground that didn't exist on floor 284. So I understand wanting to experience more. I ran off and became a spacer. [She chuckles.] It was a bad idea, but not one I regret.
[She thinks for a moment.] My tutors didn't really approve of studying literature. A little poetry, sometimes. I'm sorry that your first adventure had to be this instead. But what sort of literature inspired you?
when this tag accidentally got archived....
[a little laugh.]
I don't have anything here I want to share yet - they're all unfinished sketches, but when I can read them over without wincing, perhaps.