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
(And she can't admit it to herself, but maybe she needs to talk. Maybe she needs to say the words to make it properly real.)
She's silent for a moment, but then he gets the full story, or at least more of it than anyone else has.]
It was a mess, anyway. I thought he was a valued friend; I thought he understood that overnights didn't mean anything, and then when we were all...trapped...he told me he'd caught feelings, and I was really in no state to-
[She stops abruptly, takes a deep breath.] Savitskaya would tell me I'd done the right thing. I had seniority; I had to be the responsible one. [Even now that Shiranui's gone? Yes. It shouldn't change anything.] It's only... it's worse than if he had died. Much worse. [There are comforts when someone dies. It was quick. Or they're no longer suffering.] I wonder if it was my fault, you know? If I'd said something different, given him hope, then he might still be here. [If it was despair and hopelessness that stopped them coming back? But... Tayrey shakes her head.] No, that's wrong. I know it's not my fault. It's our captor's fault, all of it. [That's only logical.]
no subject
Sometimes we make things complicated without meaning to. And I'm sorry it had to go down that way. I'm sure you were as kind to him as you could be.
[He swallows hard to try and pin down the lump of his own grief long enough to get these words out.]
But, trust me, if being hopeless after a breakup could cause someone not to come back out of there, then we wouldn't be talking right now. Because... I wouldn't have made it back, either. I did. So... whatever happened to him wasn't your fault. Couldn't have been.
no subject
Alright. Logic. It doesn't even matter whether her valuation of Shiranui counts as catching feelings or not, because he's gone. Same as if it'd happened downstation and she was now upsystem, heading out. (It's worse. So much worse, but let's not think of that right now.) She remembers the Tradeliner advice again - it doesn't matter how you feel inside, it matters what you do. Advice for a sensible universe where you don't have aliens prying inside your mind.
There are at least two good reasons why Crichton is not the right person to complain to about that in particular. She focuses on him. On what he's telling her.]
Thank you. That helps. It does. And I'm sorry too - about Arthur. I know that must be rough.
[Under other circumstances she'd have more to say. She'd be gentler, invite him to talk about it if he wanted to, offer him her advice. Ari Tayrey can't right now. She cannot let Crichton tell her about Harvey, because then Harvey will know with certainty that she knows, and certain plans will fall apart. Pragmatism wins out, and she speaks again, quickly.]
You know, it'd really help if I could take my mind off things. Maybe that'd help you too. You want to go... shoot at cans, or... [what is there to do here, beyond training and study and the ordinary things she's exhausting herself with?]
no subject
[He's more than relieved when she suggests doing something to take their minds off it. He's not sure he's really up for talking about it at length to anyone yet. A distraction sounds much more desirable.]
You know what? I think that might be just what we both need. Thing is, I lost my pistol recently. So, either we go to the arcade and use the toy guns or you'll have to let me take turns with yours.
no subject
We'll take turns with mine, but we've got to keep it right down low. I've only got one spare power cell now, and cans don't need much firepower to take down.
[No, it doesn't make sense, fretting over conservation of resources and then wasting any portion of a power cell on recreational shooting. She doesn't care. They need this. She stands, all thought of getting a few hours of proper sleep forgotten.]
no subject
[Never know, maybe more power cells will come to her eventually. If not, then he'll be extra grateful to her for letting him have this outlet. Because it is exactly what he needs right now. It does help.]