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logsinthenight2020-03-01 07:54 pm
worthallthis) wrote in logsinthenight2020-03-01 07:54 pm
Losing Family [Catch-all Log - Open]
characters: Bucky/Soldat and OPEN
location: Aziraphale and Crowley's house, around Beacon, the church, etc
date/time: First half of March, up to the Wild Heart event
content: Soldat lost some really important people and is reacting poorly
warnings: Excessive sadness, a temper tantrum at one point, varying levels of ability to actually verbalize, and the usual disassociation for a Soldat post
I. Ferry Fears (Open)
It's normal to visit the ferry on the day it arrives. Soldat always helps unload, and this month they have things they badly want, anyway. They frown at the smell wafting off the lake as the ferry drifts up through the melting ice. They know that smell-- they know it very well. Why does the ferry smell like weeks-old dead bodies?
Well, that's a question quickly answered. Leaping on board even before the ferry docks-- thanks, superserum!-- Soldat is faced with... actual weeks-old dead bodies! What a surprise. They crouch to investigate them, because of course they do, looking for signs of cause of death, alert for potential danger still on board. And that facial structure and rotting clothing is... familiar. That curl of blonde hair. That--
"--holy shitting fuck," Soldat whines, scrambling back with a start. That would be the decaying body of one Misty Day, right there. But they saw her just this morning. She's fine. They, uh, dash out a quick text message to her on their tablet (Misty please tell me you are okay) and then pick themselves up. Gingerly. And start looking at more bodies, giving that one a wide berth but keeping it in the corner of their eye anyway. Other bodies reveal themselves to be other friends, including a Crowley and Aziraphale, and, wedged into a corner of one cabin room, their own rotting corpse-- metal arm still shiny and undecayed because the damn thing doesn't even rust.
"What the fuck," they mutter to themselves, before finally, warily getting busy hauling getting supplies off the boat. Maybe a little more quickly than usual. They wanna see people's faces in person, after this.
II. Frantic Searching (Open)
Only there are a few faces missing. Aziraphale is nowhere to be found (again) and Crowley is missing from his bed and Mewtwo is not at the armory. Soldat checks in with the others-- Sora, Misty, Ellever, anyone they actually know and find comfortable to talk with actually-- with one of the questions: "Have you seen Crowley? Tall, copper hair, kind of an asshole?" "Have you seen Aziraphale? Kind of round, white curls, awful bowtie?" "Have you seen a tall blue cat-like person that floats and talks in your head?"
Even after the weekly bulletin with Lucius and Aziraphale confirmed in the obituaries, that doesn't mean they're not coming back. Right? And Aziraphale will be pissed as hell if Soldat managed to lose Crowley hours after his untimely demise. So they keep looking, keep asking around, keep checking the various outlying buildings and holding up their lantern fully unshuttered to the dark woods in search of a glimpse, an echo of a voice, a goddamn scent of Crowley or Mewtwo. (Fully unshuttered means anybody passing by can catch a glimpse of that little green crack, too, for those inclined to be nosy and who might know what that means.)
III. Church Vigils (Open)
When the search falls short after a few days, Soldat's routine changes. Patrols are cut a little short. Visits to handlers are brief, a quick assurance for Misty and dropping off a meal for Javert. Lunches or dinners at the Invincible are made to go. Meals, network scrolling, and weapon maintenance all take place in the church, a pew near the back, while Soldat waits for Aziraphale. And maybe Crowley. And maybe Mewtwo. Maybe even Lucius.
After the first week, it's Crowley and maybe Mewtwo. And a fixed, carefully neutral expression. They go through two notebooks, writing not memories of before they died, but memories of a former handler and technician. Those are precious, too.
IV. Rattling Around the House (Semi-open, close CR only)
Four hours twice a day are set aside for sleep. Mostly, in the empty house, Soldat does not in fact sleep. They pace around. They make little armies of origami animals. They cook mounds of food and plow through it without tasting it, to make up for the nervous energy and the lack of sleeping.
They can be found here during the two four-hour segments of the day they normally sleep, if anyone wants to come by. Only close friends get an answer at the door, though. People Soldat doesn't feel comfortable being nervous and only partially verbal around don't get to come in.
V. Packing Up (Semi-open, close CR only)
After the second week of church vigils, Soldat stops going. Because no one stays dead that long unless they really are dead. After that, patrols and handler visits don't happen at all for about three days. One of those days is spent out in the woods behind the village punching trees and making a big, noisy fuss outside of the immediate earshot of anyone who might worry. One is spent in blank moroseness, locked up in the house, out of energy to make a fuss.
The third day is spent slowly packing up all the personal things that belonged to Crowley, Aziraphale, and themselves. (Including a weird-ass little ghost thing that seems to like being petted on top of the head and occasionally followed them around the house during their pacing. It's kind of cute, and it used to be Crowley's, so apparently Soldat is looking after it now.) Friends can come in this day, too, if they want to help in the packing.
Packing complete, Soldat starts sadly carrying armfuls of things to Misty's cabin or back to the general store.
VI. Back to Normal? (Open)
After that, things even out. Soldat is staying at Misty's house now, though the torch remains in front of Aziraphale and Crowley's house since she has her own. Their routine resumes, exactly as if they never stopped it. Patrols are on time and thorough, meals happen actually at the Invincible, they return to practicing at the gymnasium on days when there's no combat classes, and they actually sleep again.
Still kind of quiet, though, with little casual conversation and no singing under their breath, and there's been no catching various friends with a song and a dance like had maybe seemed like it was becoming a thing now and then. Soldat's going to be a while actually getting back to happy, sorry friends, but they never turn down company.
location: Aziraphale and Crowley's house, around Beacon, the church, etc
date/time: First half of March, up to the Wild Heart event
content: Soldat lost some really important people and is reacting poorly
warnings: Excessive sadness, a temper tantrum at one point, varying levels of ability to actually verbalize, and the usual disassociation for a Soldat post
I. Ferry Fears (Open)
It's normal to visit the ferry on the day it arrives. Soldat always helps unload, and this month they have things they badly want, anyway. They frown at the smell wafting off the lake as the ferry drifts up through the melting ice. They know that smell-- they know it very well. Why does the ferry smell like weeks-old dead bodies?
Well, that's a question quickly answered. Leaping on board even before the ferry docks-- thanks, superserum!-- Soldat is faced with... actual weeks-old dead bodies! What a surprise. They crouch to investigate them, because of course they do, looking for signs of cause of death, alert for potential danger still on board. And that facial structure and rotting clothing is... familiar. That curl of blonde hair. That--
"--holy shitting fuck," Soldat whines, scrambling back with a start. That would be the decaying body of one Misty Day, right there. But they saw her just this morning. She's fine. They, uh, dash out a quick text message to her on their tablet (Misty please tell me you are okay) and then pick themselves up. Gingerly. And start looking at more bodies, giving that one a wide berth but keeping it in the corner of their eye anyway. Other bodies reveal themselves to be other friends, including a Crowley and Aziraphale, and, wedged into a corner of one cabin room, their own rotting corpse-- metal arm still shiny and undecayed because the damn thing doesn't even rust.
"What the fuck," they mutter to themselves, before finally, warily getting busy hauling getting supplies off the boat. Maybe a little more quickly than usual. They wanna see people's faces in person, after this.
II. Frantic Searching (Open)
Only there are a few faces missing. Aziraphale is nowhere to be found (again) and Crowley is missing from his bed and Mewtwo is not at the armory. Soldat checks in with the others-- Sora, Misty, Ellever, anyone they actually know and find comfortable to talk with actually-- with one of the questions: "Have you seen Crowley? Tall, copper hair, kind of an asshole?" "Have you seen Aziraphale? Kind of round, white curls, awful bowtie?" "Have you seen a tall blue cat-like person that floats and talks in your head?"
Even after the weekly bulletin with Lucius and Aziraphale confirmed in the obituaries, that doesn't mean they're not coming back. Right? And Aziraphale will be pissed as hell if Soldat managed to lose Crowley hours after his untimely demise. So they keep looking, keep asking around, keep checking the various outlying buildings and holding up their lantern fully unshuttered to the dark woods in search of a glimpse, an echo of a voice, a goddamn scent of Crowley or Mewtwo. (Fully unshuttered means anybody passing by can catch a glimpse of that little green crack, too, for those inclined to be nosy and who might know what that means.)
III. Church Vigils (Open)
When the search falls short after a few days, Soldat's routine changes. Patrols are cut a little short. Visits to handlers are brief, a quick assurance for Misty and dropping off a meal for Javert. Lunches or dinners at the Invincible are made to go. Meals, network scrolling, and weapon maintenance all take place in the church, a pew near the back, while Soldat waits for Aziraphale. And maybe Crowley. And maybe Mewtwo. Maybe even Lucius.
After the first week, it's Crowley and maybe Mewtwo. And a fixed, carefully neutral expression. They go through two notebooks, writing not memories of before they died, but memories of a former handler and technician. Those are precious, too.
IV. Rattling Around the House (Semi-open, close CR only)
Four hours twice a day are set aside for sleep. Mostly, in the empty house, Soldat does not in fact sleep. They pace around. They make little armies of origami animals. They cook mounds of food and plow through it without tasting it, to make up for the nervous energy and the lack of sleeping.
They can be found here during the two four-hour segments of the day they normally sleep, if anyone wants to come by. Only close friends get an answer at the door, though. People Soldat doesn't feel comfortable being nervous and only partially verbal around don't get to come in.
V. Packing Up (Semi-open, close CR only)
After the second week of church vigils, Soldat stops going. Because no one stays dead that long unless they really are dead. After that, patrols and handler visits don't happen at all for about three days. One of those days is spent out in the woods behind the village punching trees and making a big, noisy fuss outside of the immediate earshot of anyone who might worry. One is spent in blank moroseness, locked up in the house, out of energy to make a fuss.
The third day is spent slowly packing up all the personal things that belonged to Crowley, Aziraphale, and themselves. (Including a weird-ass little ghost thing that seems to like being petted on top of the head and occasionally followed them around the house during their pacing. It's kind of cute, and it used to be Crowley's, so apparently Soldat is looking after it now.) Friends can come in this day, too, if they want to help in the packing.
Packing complete, Soldat starts sadly carrying armfuls of things to Misty's cabin or back to the general store.
VI. Back to Normal? (Open)
After that, things even out. Soldat is staying at Misty's house now, though the torch remains in front of Aziraphale and Crowley's house since she has her own. Their routine resumes, exactly as if they never stopped it. Patrols are on time and thorough, meals happen actually at the Invincible, they return to practicing at the gymnasium on days when there's no combat classes, and they actually sleep again.
Still kind of quiet, though, with little casual conversation and no singing under their breath, and there's been no catching various friends with a song and a dance like had maybe seemed like it was becoming a thing now and then. Soldat's going to be a while actually getting back to happy, sorry friends, but they never turn down company.
no subject
If the Door had never been opened, their teenage struggles might have culminated in a bloody nose and a yelling argument in a schoolyard. Riku might never have had an opportunity to discover that the way he felt wasn't just valid, but that the strength of that love was the source of great power.
He inhales at what Soldat says, starting to glance in his direction. ]
You're not the only one to ask me something like this.
...When we talk, he asks for something, too.
[ Riku sighs quietly, unsettled. What should he do? He understands that each heart and its needs are different...
To him, friendship is about trust and camaraderie, about the warm swell in his chest when he hears their voice or recognizes their stride approaching. That glow kindled when he knows he's done something to help them. But since the day they met, it's only been about what that guy needs. What makes him feel better. Riku's grief is too intimidating, too uncomfortable to address, or even to approach him. On Riku's side, friendship isn't measured by what a person can give or do for another. A person has to actually invest in the relationship if they want to keep reaping the dividends.
If he was the type to cave to the expectations of others, Riku might think his idea of friendship was too exclusive, too high-maintenance. He's not. He sees no reason to change who he is for the convenience of someone else.
None of that is Soldat's problem. Expressing that only plants him in the middle of something that isn't any of his business. He's just looking out for someone he cares about, that's all. ]
I'm glad he found someone like you.
no subject
He's like me, a little. Missing pieces. Not quite a real person. So we can help each other, yeah? I remind him he's worth somethin'. He reminds me it's okay even if I never really get better.
[Even if they kind of told Misty they'd try, "better" might mean different things to the two of them. They tap a metal finger on the edge of the bowl thoughtfully.]
You know, if Steve came here. If I saw him. My friend who I might have killed? Don't know what I'd do. Run away, maybe. But I know the dumb punk loves me anyway. Cuz he let me do it. Let me almost punch his face in.
So.
[They pick up the fork again, for another bite.]
Figured you ought to at least know. Ain't asking anything with it, you gotta do what you can handle. Just somethin' you should know is all.
no subject
[ There were people who tried to define that all the time. DiZ, once driven by a desire to make right his wrongs, to unseat the man who stole his work and his name. That angry old man with the dark heart in the city of bells who raged against a whole people because of the way they chose to live... ]
What decides that?
[ He doesn't say "why don't the two of you consider yourselves real people" because the other one isn't here and it's dumb to think Soldat speaks for anyone else, but Riku cares about that. It matters, especially given his complicated history regarding certain Nobodies. ]
Your memories? They're a big part of who a person is, sure.
But I don't think you're less of a person without them. You're just someone else. Maybe Steve would try his hardest to restore all of your memories. I once put Sora back together, too.
...But it doesn't seem right to force anyone to be someone I wish they were.
no subject
[That's sort of true. It's certainly due to HYDRA that they came to this conclusion. Being treated like a dog that needs correcting for fifty years with the Russians, and then a machine that needs rebooted for the twenty after that with the Americans, drives the lesson home pretty well. But even then, there's a solid chunk of it's just a plain old defense mechanism. If you're not a person, then there's no trauma to work through, just glitches and shitty maintenance that had to be endured.]
Part of it's the memories. Part of it's the programming. Real people don't assign themselves handlers and technicians, follow protocols. Don't need people to tell them what to do with their downtime. Don't do their damndest to kill their best friends just cuz a handler told them to.
[They look a little mopey about the last bit, in particular, but thankfully they have more casserole to take consoling bites from. Their arm buzzes a little, plates resituating under their sleeve, when they add,]
I'm willing to. Concede. Maybe I used to be a person. Had parents. Sisters. A brother, for a little while. But I'm not that anymore.
[That's actually a big-ass step that Riku just got, there, so hopefully he appreciates it.]
no subject
Some got their chance to take what they wanted. Others, like his Replica, didn't get that chance until they were brought to Beacon. His name, the one he chose for himself, was Dawn. Those people who had tortured him had broken and used him for... seventy years... ]
Are you... happy like this?
[ Even if Riku can't understand, doesn't mean that a person's way of living is wrong. His circumstances are extenuating to put it lightly, there's no telling what a heart will do to protect itself, and he knows very well the capacity of people to justify or endure incredible hardship.
It's even possible for someone to be content with something that Riku would consider a miserable state. The thing is - it's not his life, it's not his place. ]
no subject
Sometimes. In pieces. Not right now, because the loss of Aziraphale and Crowley still looms large, fueling sadness and guilt. But they've had it. So they can settle a little and say,]
I'm okay. I did promise Misty I'd try to get better. Not sure what better really looks like, though.
no subject
[ Happiness, to Riku, is something pretty different than he imagines it is for other people he knows. He experiences it in little sparks sometimes, but it's not the same. He isn't the same person who stood smiling at his friends, drenched in the sunset of the islands any more than that Riku had been the same boy sitting with those same friends, dreaming of what might lie beyond that horizon years prior.
He sits thoughtfully for a moment. ]
Someone once told me that we only really begin to exist when others see us. [ Joshua had described himself as "a friend", taking to the sky on pearlescent wings. Somehow, he gets the same impression when he speaks with Castiel, when he spoke with Aziraphale. Of... a friend. The warmth of their light had been... similar. ] I don't know how literally he meant for those words to be taken, for all I know, it's complete crap.
...But I think the answer is gonna be unique to you and those you're close to. Like Misty.
[ And him. ]
no subject
The rest kind of even makes a little sense. Soldat considers, finishing off the casserole in the process, before speaking again.]
I was a ghost. Wasn't supposed to exist. Leave no trace, no witnesses. Beacon is the first time since I was captured I'm allowed to have people see me. To make connections.
[They shrug a little.]
So hell, might be something to that.
no subject
That idea comes from his own lived experiences - involving people who were told they weren't complete, they were invalid existences that shouldn't be there, but those people deserved as much as anyone else a chance to live their lives.
Riku glances down at the casserole dish, privately impressed at his ability to tuck away a significant amount of hearty food in a single sitting. But... then again... look at those muscles. Super soldier metabolism aside, you don't get bulked up like that without being able to put away some serious calories. ]
We decide for ourselves what we share with others. I'm... glad you could share this with me.
[ Riku rolls a shoulder, exhaling a puff of embarrassed laughter. ]
Kinda flattering, I guess.
no subject
They slide a wry look at Riku for his embarrassment.]
I'm pretty sure you're trustworthy, if you're sharing all your stuff like that, with me.