Ava Starr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
decohere) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-09-21 04:07 am
decohere) wrote in come_sailaway2022-09-21 04:07 am
well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease
Who: Ava & OTA
What: Not doing so great! And an attempted memorial
When: Post-Excursion
Where: room 114, the literal walls, buffet, gym shower, cafe, the promenade
Warnings: these are not fun prompts. loss, self loathing and failing struggle with depression are very strong themes.
i. room 114.
The mission was a success. With no actual contribution on Ava's part and a growing list of mistakes she's neatly compiled in her thoughts, waiting to unravel for whenever Skulduggery finally tracks her down. And she dreads it, knows well enough how these things go.
It was her choice, Skulduggery was quite right. Her choice to sideline herself and pretend she wasn't even there because she couldn't handle dealing with a small group. Of people that already didn't like her, and any minor progress she made with Darcy she's sure has been entirely undone, confirming that she was right all along to treat her so poorly. It would have been a struggle on a good day, but after isolating herself for the last few weeks... God, she was wrong to think she'd be ready.
She should have bowed out before it even began, but her wellbeing was never a priority, not with so much on the line. And it had been all she had to look forward to, the only small scrap of hope that she might be able to help out. Prove to Skulduggery and the others she wasn't a complete deadweight. Prove Izzy wrong that no crew would ever want her. Reestablish that maybe there was a purpose to her continued existence and allow her to recover.
And then it all went from bad to worse with the series of curses, with Maximilien the only one caring to go after her as she took off running as madness infected her already weak mind. And he shouldn't have. She compromised them both, and then ordered him around because in her panic she had no idea how else to get him to follow, and she hates herself for it. And he must hate her now too, because he stormed off and she hasn't heard from him since.
The mission was a success with the added bonus of reuniting Friday with her girlfriend, even under such circumstances. She half expects the ship to be torn apart in a storm any moment, and can't will herself to care. She thought Jenny was valid the first time she attacked. She feels so even more now that her freedom has been stripped of her once more. But there had been mention knowing where her brothers were, and so she hopes. Hopes for Jenny's sake that it's true.
The mission was a success, and Ava's at critical failure. Huddled under her bed ever since she got dumped back at her room. Still in her stealth suit, gripping the katana that she had salvaged from Malcolm's room in trembling hands as her last line of comfort. Unaware of how much time has passed, unaware of her need to eat, never quite managing more than a fitful hour of sleep.
And that's where she'll remain until somebody convinces her otherwise.
ii. the walls.
And then she'll sneak off to fun new hiding spots, places she thinks nobody will be able to look for her, if anyone bothers at all. The advantage of being able to phase is finding nice cozy spaces between the walls, between the floor and the ceiling below it. Ava feels rather considerate of this as well, taking her misery somewhere far more private and out of the way while everyone else continues happily on. Her depression cruelly and completely crippling her ability to reach out for the help she so desperately needs and knows she doesn't deserve.
She's doing her very best to wait out her soul finally fading away with the rest of her, because that's what happens to the weak. And Ava knows that's what she is, despite all her attempts to tell people otherwise.
But somebody passing might hear the stifled crying from the walls, or catch a knee poking out from the ceiling. What first seemed like a great idea turns out to be a bit more cramped and uncomfortable than she was counting on. Try as she might, she can't quite get herself to join the rest of the ship ghosts. It feels very unfair.
At some point, she hears somebody walking far too loudly on the floor she's hiding within, and she reaches out to grab an ankle, phase claws and all.
iii. buffet.
Eventually she does get hungry enough that she can't ignore it anymore, a dizzy sort of sway as she stares blankly at the buffet. Despite the familiar variety, absolutely nothing looks good. She picks at a few packets of crackers and sits right there on the floor, removing her face mask that she's worn for far too long now leaving the skin under it in rough condition. She takes a couple disinterested bites, and then crumbles the rest in her fist. The crumbs get all over her already dirtied suit. With her mask off, she can tell just how bad she smells. That manages to ruin the rest of her desire to eat.
iv. gym.
She hits up the gym showers. She can't get her fingers through her hair, matted from being stuck under her hood for so long. She can't work up enough energy to feel upset about it, instead sits on the floor and watches the water drain.
v. sand dollars.
Grabbing her notebook from its hiding place in her room, Ava takes it with her to the coffee shop, finally dressed in something other than her stealth suit. A plain t-shirt and a pair of camp shorts that fit far looser than months ago. With a pair of scissors, she begins cutting the pages into smaller and smaller pieces, destroying all the notes she'd taken on the Captain and the mystery of the ship and all the things she's decided aren't important. She stops once she gets to the pages of the names of the vanished passengers, her throat constricting.
She never decided what to do about it, but it was a responsibility she took on. Ava sips uneasily at her mint tea, ignoring the small bits of paper that have fallen into it. They're scattered all over the table around her, some having drifted to the floor.
vi. the promenade.
Only a handful of people helped her with her project of collecting names earlier that month, and Ava does her best to fill in as many as she can with her limited interactions. Sarge and Wanda and Natasha and Peter... all from her own world. Eleanor, who helped her with the laundry, and her brother Luke. Kore, she'd been told about. Claudia, her late night company when so few others were up and about. Reigen who hosted that first information sharing meeting who called her out for snooping, who helped her toss the casino coins overboard. Dean, who all she knows about was that he was hot, and something about Diana's opinion on his hair. Flynn, Fio's roommate who had talked down Jenny, only to be replaced by somebody who looked so similar. That she kicked out of the camp cabin, and never got to apologize to. Conner, her first roommate that she had immediately chased off and never had a chance to apologize to. Lucy, who she killed by phasing into a tree during the Battle Royale. And never had a chance to apologize to. Conan (that she doesn't realize has returned.) Ginko, who had been so calming and kind. Lucas, who she was annoyed about when she found out Malcolm had another roommate.
And Malcolm. The only person she's ever allowed so close, that made her feel like she mattered and could be better. Who dedicated his life to getting justice for the dead. She feels guilty she can't think of more, knows there's so many others she's missing.
Lucius had left her art supplies awhile back. So she writes out each of their names in red paint along the floor of the promenade, leaves flowers she's made out of paper under each. She's sure it'll be cleaned up soon enough, but maybe if she keeps watch... There's more paint, for anyone that wants to contribute. As Ava continues quietly folding flowers at one of the tables.
What: Not doing so great! And an attempted memorial
When: Post-Excursion
Where: room 114, the literal walls, buffet, gym shower, cafe, the promenade
Warnings: these are not fun prompts. loss, self loathing and failing struggle with depression are very strong themes.
i. room 114.
The mission was a success. With no actual contribution on Ava's part and a growing list of mistakes she's neatly compiled in her thoughts, waiting to unravel for whenever Skulduggery finally tracks her down. And she dreads it, knows well enough how these things go.
It was her choice, Skulduggery was quite right. Her choice to sideline herself and pretend she wasn't even there because she couldn't handle dealing with a small group. Of people that already didn't like her, and any minor progress she made with Darcy she's sure has been entirely undone, confirming that she was right all along to treat her so poorly. It would have been a struggle on a good day, but after isolating herself for the last few weeks... God, she was wrong to think she'd be ready.
She should have bowed out before it even began, but her wellbeing was never a priority, not with so much on the line. And it had been all she had to look forward to, the only small scrap of hope that she might be able to help out. Prove to Skulduggery and the others she wasn't a complete deadweight. Prove Izzy wrong that no crew would ever want her. Reestablish that maybe there was a purpose to her continued existence and allow her to recover.
And then it all went from bad to worse with the series of curses, with Maximilien the only one caring to go after her as she took off running as madness infected her already weak mind. And he shouldn't have. She compromised them both, and then ordered him around because in her panic she had no idea how else to get him to follow, and she hates herself for it. And he must hate her now too, because he stormed off and she hasn't heard from him since.
The mission was a success with the added bonus of reuniting Friday with her girlfriend, even under such circumstances. She half expects the ship to be torn apart in a storm any moment, and can't will herself to care. She thought Jenny was valid the first time she attacked. She feels so even more now that her freedom has been stripped of her once more. But there had been mention knowing where her brothers were, and so she hopes. Hopes for Jenny's sake that it's true.
The mission was a success, and Ava's at critical failure. Huddled under her bed ever since she got dumped back at her room. Still in her stealth suit, gripping the katana that she had salvaged from Malcolm's room in trembling hands as her last line of comfort. Unaware of how much time has passed, unaware of her need to eat, never quite managing more than a fitful hour of sleep.
And that's where she'll remain until somebody convinces her otherwise.
ii. the walls.
And then she'll sneak off to fun new hiding spots, places she thinks nobody will be able to look for her, if anyone bothers at all. The advantage of being able to phase is finding nice cozy spaces between the walls, between the floor and the ceiling below it. Ava feels rather considerate of this as well, taking her misery somewhere far more private and out of the way while everyone else continues happily on. Her depression cruelly and completely crippling her ability to reach out for the help she so desperately needs and knows she doesn't deserve.
She's doing her very best to wait out her soul finally fading away with the rest of her, because that's what happens to the weak. And Ava knows that's what she is, despite all her attempts to tell people otherwise.
But somebody passing might hear the stifled crying from the walls, or catch a knee poking out from the ceiling. What first seemed like a great idea turns out to be a bit more cramped and uncomfortable than she was counting on. Try as she might, she can't quite get herself to join the rest of the ship ghosts. It feels very unfair.
At some point, she hears somebody walking far too loudly on the floor she's hiding within, and she reaches out to grab an ankle, phase claws and all.
iii. buffet.
Eventually she does get hungry enough that she can't ignore it anymore, a dizzy sort of sway as she stares blankly at the buffet. Despite the familiar variety, absolutely nothing looks good. She picks at a few packets of crackers and sits right there on the floor, removing her face mask that she's worn for far too long now leaving the skin under it in rough condition. She takes a couple disinterested bites, and then crumbles the rest in her fist. The crumbs get all over her already dirtied suit. With her mask off, she can tell just how bad she smells. That manages to ruin the rest of her desire to eat.
iv. gym.
She hits up the gym showers. She can't get her fingers through her hair, matted from being stuck under her hood for so long. She can't work up enough energy to feel upset about it, instead sits on the floor and watches the water drain.
v. sand dollars.
Grabbing her notebook from its hiding place in her room, Ava takes it with her to the coffee shop, finally dressed in something other than her stealth suit. A plain t-shirt and a pair of camp shorts that fit far looser than months ago. With a pair of scissors, she begins cutting the pages into smaller and smaller pieces, destroying all the notes she'd taken on the Captain and the mystery of the ship and all the things she's decided aren't important. She stops once she gets to the pages of the names of the vanished passengers, her throat constricting.
She never decided what to do about it, but it was a responsibility she took on. Ava sips uneasily at her mint tea, ignoring the small bits of paper that have fallen into it. They're scattered all over the table around her, some having drifted to the floor.
vi. the promenade.
Only a handful of people helped her with her project of collecting names earlier that month, and Ava does her best to fill in as many as she can with her limited interactions. Sarge and Wanda and Natasha and Peter... all from her own world. Eleanor, who helped her with the laundry, and her brother Luke. Kore, she'd been told about. Claudia, her late night company when so few others were up and about. Reigen who hosted that first information sharing meeting who called her out for snooping, who helped her toss the casino coins overboard. Dean, who all she knows about was that he was hot, and something about Diana's opinion on his hair. Flynn, Fio's roommate who had talked down Jenny, only to be replaced by somebody who looked so similar. That she kicked out of the camp cabin, and never got to apologize to. Conner, her first roommate that she had immediately chased off and never had a chance to apologize to. Lucy, who she killed by phasing into a tree during the Battle Royale. And never had a chance to apologize to. Conan (that she doesn't realize has returned.) Ginko, who had been so calming and kind. Lucas, who she was annoyed about when she found out Malcolm had another roommate.
And Malcolm. The only person she's ever allowed so close, that made her feel like she mattered and could be better. Who dedicated his life to getting justice for the dead. She feels guilty she can't think of more, knows there's so many others she's missing.
Lucius had left her art supplies awhile back. So she writes out each of their names in red paint along the floor of the promenade, leaves flowers she's made out of paper under each. She's sure it'll be cleaned up soon enough, but maybe if she keeps watch... There's more paint, for anyone that wants to contribute. As Ava continues quietly folding flowers at one of the tables.
no subject
"Of course, I wasn't going to let you run off and get lost in the jungle. However; I'm not really designed to move that fast, so I'm glad you eventually stopped or I would have never caught up." Though she stopped moving about when he also stopped... existing. So maybe it wouldn't have mattered.
"I don't know anything about magic, but I don't think that's how it works? Where we just passed it back and forth to each other. Skulduggery wasn't making that horrific sound for fun and he wasn't anywhere near us."
no subject
She looks down into her mug. "It came over me so quickly, I didn't even... question it. Running away felt like my opportunity to escape. I was so ready to just. Be left behind," Ava admits. "If you hadn't come after me, even after it faded. I probably would have stayed out there." In shame and defeat.
Of course she heard the skeletal screaming, but she assumed it was related to something else horrific that happened. Her perspective is skewed heavily, being separated from the group, not knowing what the rest experienced. Just that she succumbed and lost track of herself.
"And then... I don't know what came over me after. It was like the world stopped existing, and I couldn't... couldn't anything."
She bites her bottom lip. "I was- you left so quickly. I was worried. But I didn't think you wanted to see me."
no subject
"If you had stayed out there we would have come looking for you. I'm fairly certain that part of working on a team is 'no one left behind' I'm positive I've heard that before." And he has, from Overwatch. Which he is not going to think about any deeper.
"I left because there was something residually wrong with me and I thought I might overload and shut down, and I didn't want to do that in front of everyone. So I wanted to leave as soon as possible."
no subject
It's a nice thought, but they both know that she's impossible to find when she doesn't want to be. She looks down, feeling guilty. She doesn't really want to abandon them, make them worry. But it's hard wanting to be here right now, either.
She definitely understands wanting to hide away rather be seen so vulnerable, needing time to recover alone. But she wonders if he still needs help, somebody to check him over. She doesn't know enough about robotics to really offer, feels a bit worthless as a friend. "It... freaked me out, seeing you like that," Ava admits, even though in the moment she didn't have time to dwell too much on it, focusing on trying to get them back to the rest of the group. "And I realized I didn't know if... you needed to be rebooted or. If there was some sort of... way to fix it. But. I wanted to ask. In case something like that ever happens again. If there's something you'd want me to... do."
no subject
A problem for him to solve in the future. The very near future.
There's a visible wince when she asks that. It's... kind of her, compassionate, and he recognizes that, but even the idea that it might happen again causes the periphery of his vision to static out in the precursor of a panic he manages to fight down for now.
"That was..." He runs his thumb over the rim of the cup on the table, the tea long since cold. "I didn't have any warning that was going to happen or I would have shut myself down first."
He knows that wouldn't have solved any problems, because it's not like she was going to drag his extremely heavy body through the woods after that. But it would have saved him the mental trauma of experiencing non-sentience again.
"That's my base level programming, how I was before... Well how all Omnics were designed. I'm not fully aware of what's happening like that, and it's only been triggered once ever, and then here it was... I thought I was going to be taken over by an AI, that's what did it last time but I managed to firewall it out eventually. Those subroutines and emergency failsafes are automatic, but if they don't activate," He shudders because that's pure terror for him, "I'm not sure what you could do other than damage me enough to shut down and hope I reboot properly."
no subject
"I don't think either of us were properly prepared. And I... wasn't in the right mental state, after Malcolm vanished. Usually I do better when I know the situation I'm entering." She's used to operating with clearer intel, and while Ava likes to think she's a rather adaptable and on her toes sort, the whole thing was outside of her experience.
And yes, she slipped the bit about her boyfriend being gone in the middle, so she could say she's informed Max now, without outright drawing attention to the subject. She doesn't like to burden him with her stupid human emotions.
"I figured it was something along those lines. So as... your friend. And somebody I hope you trust. If you truly rather be shut down. Or reset. I can do that for you. I want it to be your choice." She doesn't want to outright ask about buttons or commands or... jamming a paperclip in him, given his sensitivity. Is that what it is? She doesn't want to point that out either.
no subject
And while he may pretend he has no emotions, Ava is a human and she has them and losing a significant other sounds mentally painful, even to him.
"That's appreciated. The easiest way is an EMP but considering your abilities," He considers, he's never fully thought about how someone else would shut him down because he wanted them to. It's strange the things that have come up in this place that he wouldn't have ever fathomed. "You could probably unplug my powercore which would shut me down instantly. Though I've never had that done it might also be excruciatingly painful, but it would at least be quick."
no subject
She wonders if she's meant to try arguing the point with Max, suggest other methods than just shutting off. But it's his autonomy at stake, and so she wouldn't dare act like she knows better than him. She appreciates he's talking about this with her at all.
It's true, her abilities have made her well equipped at disabling machinery. Which wasn't so different from reaching into people and crushing their hearts. She trusts herself to be quick and precise.
"Okay," she replies, studying his build. Trying to estimate where this powercore might be. She points to his chest, because... well, that's where Iron Man's arc reactor is kept. It's where hearts are. It's the widest part of the body, and therefore the most ideal for protecting something so vital. "There?"
A pause. "And when it's safe again. Do I... plug it back in?"
no subject
"I... believe so. Admittedly I'm basing this off what should happen rather than experience. I should reboot at that point and wake up."
Theoretically.
no subject
"Good. Then that's... easy enough," Ava responds. It's a situation both of them rather avoid, but it's better to be prepared. To offer him at least some control over what happens to him.
"But. Until then, I think we should get some rest," she insists gently. "Don't think we're doing ourselves any good running on empty."
no subject
And he doesn't really want to recharge, but that's a whole other issue.
no subject
"Should we take turns then? Or..." should she suggest Skulduggery?
no subject
A narrowing of his eyes before he continues, "You don't wish to sleep in your room? You shouldn't have to watch me sit around unmoving for hours. I imagine that's extremely boring."
no subject
"Actually. That is what I want, Maximilien. After what you did for me. Twice now you've made sure I was safe. I want to do that for you too."
no subject
"Well of course I did, I wasn't going to let you run off into the jungle forever or be eaten by zombies." For reasons that he hopes he never has to say out loud. He might because they're alone in here, but he won't be happy about it.
"I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this am I?" He sighs, watching her with a hint of amusement. "Part of the skill of negotiation is knowing when you're in a losing argument. Or in this case when I'm in an unwinnable situation."
no subject
"Don't think of it as a loss," she smiles as he openly admits defeat. "Think of it as gaining however many percentage points of charge you need. And in exchange, all I ask is to borrow your couch for a bit."
no subject
And he's someone who abides by his deals.