[OTA] All My Demons Greeting Me as a Friend

[serialskiller]

Who: Murderbot and You
When: Post Info Meeting, Post Muppets
Where: All over the place!
Summary: Critical failure to cope
Warnings: Discussion of slavery, exploitation of sentient beings, capitalism, death all likely here.


1. And I was runnin' far away [STELLAR DINING ROOM]
With no food being served in the dining room, there's no reason anyone is going to be there, so it's where a Murderbot hides while breaking down, while breaking apart internally. Those who regularly check in on it will find their messages returned unopened, because...look. It's too much. It's all too much.


2. Would I run off the world someday? [ANYWHERE PUBLIC]
As sense returns, Murderbot realizes others will be in similar broken states, emotionally. For the first time since Jinx expanded its drone fleet, it's going to be flying them all at once, trying to seek out those who have hidden away, those who need company but not people. Don't be surprised if a drone just comes and hovers near your character, listening and saying nothing. It means well, really it does.


A few of the drones do have speakers, though, so if you attempt to engage it in a conversation, you'll get that.


3. Nobody knows, nobody knows [ADULT POOL]
While not the same sort of Event the Muppets showing, there's a couple times early in October that the projector over the Adult Pool will inexplicably be showing episodes of The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross. If someone looks for the source of this, they'll notice MB up by the projector itself, its media player auxed into the projector.

You know. Good calming relaxing material. Right?


4. And I was dancing in the rain [SAND DOLLARS]
Finally, coming back to itself, trying to figure out a path forward, Murderbot...it finds itself wanting to having something to hold onto of its crew that it now knows it'll never see again. Find it hiding in a closed cafe, where no one will look for company, surely. Find it with the one photograph it has of the PreservationAux survey team and its watercolors, trying desperately to capture the faces it has in memory and the personalities that go with it. A young woman with black hair and sharp eyes, looking like she's arguing about something. A motherly older woman with deep skin, smiling like she's proud of the viewer. A man with pale eyes and visible augmentations along one side of his face, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Another man, a man too pretty for his own good, reaching out a tentative hand, compassion written across his face.

The paintings, they aren't enough to capture the personalities, but it has to try, it has to do something, it has to hold onto these people. Memories can be erased, but it wants the people it loves down on paper, for others to see.


5. I felt alive and I can't complain [WILDCARD]
darkersolstice or darkersolstice#9463 to plot

Comments

[actuallyawolf]

"No. Yes. I don't know."

She huffs, turning away. For a moment, she doesn't want it to see her face.
She has no idea what her face is even doing right now but it's probably not good. "You're out here asking if I'm okay. Don't know why you're going to be weird about me asking you the same thing. We're strong together. I don't know why you left your people or if it was a good idea or not, but we're all stuck in a pocket dimension together, aren't we?"

[serialskiller]

It understands not wanting to be seen. That...that is one of the first things about this conversation that makes sense to it, and so the drone turns away from her.

"We are."

[actuallyawolf]

Ylva brings her hands up to tug at her hair, twisting her fingers in it.

"Then we're pack. Pack is family. It's a weird sort of pack but it's still pack and we need to help each other. That's how it works. So I'm asking if you're okay and you need to tell me if you are or not."

She takes a deep breath and turns back to face Murderbot's drone. "So?"

[serialskiller]

"I don't think I've ever been okay in my entire existence. I don't know what okay feels like. I don't know what family feels like. I don't know how to be pack, or how to be helped. Are you fucking happy now?"

[actuallyawolf]

"What, never?"

Well, that's up there in the Worst Things She's Ever Heard. But if it hadn't ever had a pack, or family, or whatever word is appropriate for partly mechanical constructs, then... yeah, of course it isn't. She has the advantage here of having had a very supportive family. They just happen to have been wolves.

"No, I'm not happy. That's awful." Ylva tugs on her hair again, bites her lower lip hard enough to turn it white. "Okay. So. You're in a family now, whether or not you want to admit it. First step. You're asking if I'm okay. You're</> not okay. What don't you have?"

[serialskiller]

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m allowed to have or supposed to have or…fuck, what you want me to have.”

The tiny drone speaker struggles with conveying the level of emotion that’s going on here.

[actuallyawolf]

"I don't know, either, Ylva says, distressed. "How am I supposed to look out for you when I don't know what you need?"

This is dumb. This is a dumb argument and she knows it and she can't seem to not have it right now. "Forget what you're supposed to have, because whoever's making those rules isn't here. Or... look, I don't know, I'm trying to help. I just want to help."

[serialskiller]

The drone drifts closer. "You turn into animals. Right?"

[actuallyawolf]

"Yes," she says, a little sulkily, because she's not sure where this is going or how this is related. "Yeah, I do. So what?"

[serialskiller]

"If I tell you where I am, would you turn into something big and heavy and just...lay across me for a while?"

Deep pressure therapy wolf? Don't make it weird, Ylva, please.

[actuallyawolf]

"You want me to -- um. Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

No, that makes sense to her. Physical comfort is important, sometimes. She is, herself, a very physical person, and honestly, that's not something she's been able to be, lately.

"I think I'd like that too, honestly."

[serialskiller]

“Okay. Then come find me in the dining hall.” It is audibly relieved that she isn’t freaked out by the request. ”I am…not good with touch, when it comes to people. But I think, um, if you’re not being people-people while, it might be okay.”

[actuallyawolf]

Ylva smiles, and then laughs -- not mocking, just delighted.

"I mean, sometimes I don't especially want to be people, so that's fine. I get it, I think. Dining hall. Right."

And she heads off in that direction.

[serialskiller]

Murderbot has already moved to sitting on the floor by the time she arrives in that space. You know. To make laying across easier. It is absolutely in one of its silly dinosaur hoodies right now, too.

[actuallyawolf]

"Hi."

Ylva tilts her head for a moment, taking in Murderbot and its hoodie, then comes to sit down on the floor across from it. "I like your sweater. How big a thing should I be? Is a wolf a good size?"

[serialskiller]

"Hi." It shrugs. "I don't really know how big Earth animals are. I've only seen them in serials. But...whatever size you think, I guess."

[actuallyawolf]

"You haven't seen them?" she asks, baffled, then, "Earth?" because that doesn't make sense to her either, but either way, these are not serious concerns.

Ylva shakes her head and shifts, effortlessly, into being a timber wolf. Wolves are, indeed, very big. She looks at it for a moment, then proceeds to settle herself in its lap. Carefully. Just in case.

[serialskiller]

"Is...it okay if I, uh. Touch you?" Petting, it means. It has never pet anything and it is curious.

[actuallyawolf]

"Mmhm."

Ylva makes a wordless little sound of assent, her tail thumping against the ground. She twists her head around to look at it, all playful wolf face. Which, admittedly, does involve a wide mouth full of teeth.

[serialskiller]

Everything in it is hesitation, until it reaches out to very, very gently just...rest. Rest its hand on her back. Looking nervous, as if that might be too much, too daring.

[actuallyawolf]

There's a twitch of her ear, a reflexive spasm at being touched, but she's calm. Ylva is, at heart, a cuddler. She lets out a canine sort of sigh, more relaxed than she's felt in at least a week.

[serialskiller]

Its hand settles more and it lets out a sigh, leaning forward to bury its face in her fur. Is it weird if it sniffs her?

Too late, that's already happening, a deep whiff of eau du wolf.

[actuallyawolf]

See, and Ylva is just constantly trying to not openly sniff the people she meets. That's what's really weird, that that's not acceptable. How are you supposed to get to know people without getting a really good sense of someone's smell?

For her own part, she is probably a little cleaner than your average wolf. She smells of warm, dry dog, of sun and fur. And she will take this opportunity to turn a little and sniff Murderbot with a cold, wet, and snuffly nose.

[serialskiller]

Murderbot smells like machinery, and circulatory fluid and electricity and maybe a little human but not all that much and saline? Saline. Oh, it's started crying into her fur. Sorry.

[actuallyawolf]

Oh, oh, that's alarming. Ylva, for a moment, is not sure if she's done something wrong or not. Normally she has at least some vague notion when someone's upset with her, even if she doesn't know why.

She twists, claws scraping on the ground noisily, to press her face into Murderbot's and lick at his tears. "Shhh. It's okay. It's okay."