East Exploration Mingle (CLOSED)

[equinoctials]

characters: Aziraphale, Bucky, Crowley, Hopper, Jason Todd, Kol, Ignis, Kakyoin, M.K., Noctis, Riku
location: East of Beacon
date/time: September 9-12
content: Mingle log for various interactions happening during the expedition to explore east of Beacon.
warnings: Please put warnings in your threads if you need to warn for something!

Comments

[worthallthis]

[Too far, too fast. The Soldier takes an instinctive, automatic step back and away before it even realizes it's done so, along with a swift breath. This is one of the biggest things it's not allowed to have.]

I can't.

[sauntered_downward]

You can't have a name?

Everyone has names! Even slaves had names.

[worthallthis]

[The Soldier firms up its feet so it can't retreat further, though that tone in its handler's voice makes it want to. It can't even properly explain, because it's not something it remembers, it's something it just knows.]

I'm not a person.

[Two weeks of death has allowed the Soldier to learn new things, express itself with a little more freedom, and allow itself to like things and people. To find a handler harmless and even think fondly of him. But it's not ready to actively go against those kinds of protocols yet.]

[sauntered_downward]

Right, right, an asset, got it, I remember. Except you're not, you know.

You're not just an asset.

You're a human, you're a person. I can tell, I'd be able to tell if you weren't.

[worthallthis]

[There is literally no way Crowley can tell that, as far as the Soldier knows. The fact that he's so insistent just feels wrong and makes it want to hide in the darkness of the trees. Makes it want to hit something. Maybe hit Crowley. (I'm not going to hit Crowley, Jesus.)

There's a long silence, the Soldier staring fixedly at nothing, before it says flatly,]

You should sleep. You aren't making sense anymore.

[sauntered_downward]

[Crowley isn't Aziraphale. He can't make good emotions happen, can't bless someone into feeling better. What he can do is tempt. He's good at it, for the most part. Well, he used to be good at it.]

Do you ever wonder what feeling things is like? What it used to be like?

I could make you feel things, if you wanted.

[worthallthis]

[The Soldier can't get any more rigid, or it would stiffen at that. Mixed into the tension and discomfort, hidden by the poor light and its current iron control of its expression, there's a sudden flare-up of fear. (Oh, there you are, been a few minutes since we paid attention to that one.) For the first time, it feels like maybe this handler can be something other than harmless.

It absolutely does not want another person to try making it feel things. So, in the hopes of making Crowley drop that line of thought, it says, voice still flat:]

I do remember feelings.

[(Feeling a bunch of them right now, pal.)]

[sauntered_downward]

But you don't want to feel them now?

[Oh, but Crowley is so bad at this. He's eleven years out of practice at tempting, and he's never encountered someone quite like the human soldier person.]

Or at all?

[worthallthis]

[What the fuck is this handler's problem? The Soldier's head it starting to ache from how hard it's clenching its jaw. It manages to ground out, finally putting inflection into it's voice (and that inflection is somewhere between frustrated and in pain),]

You are compromising my ability to complete this mission. I can't focus on keeping everyone safe if my handler is fucking harassing me about what I'm feeling.

[That could possibly be an admission to feeling things right now. Hell, the swear word is probably enough to suggest feeling, if the inflection isn't good enough.]

[sauntered_downward]

[Good. That's good, isn't it? He is getting something out of the human soldier person, which is better than the nothing he had originally expected.

He could push harder, or he could back off, make sure he doesn't scare him off.

Oh, fuck it. Time to push a little harder.]

I'm pretty good at harassing. Been at it for a good long time now.

[worthallthis]

I can tell.

[Oh, the Soldier is so fucked. If Crowley isn't just trying to get it riled up as an excuse for punishing it later, then he really does want to talk about the Soldier's feelings. Neither of those is a viable option right now, dammit.

(Second-guessing that whole hitting him thing. No, we're fucking not.) Because it's probably in enough trouble as it is, now.)]

[sauntered_downward]

[The thing that's really annoying----besides a lot of other things---is that Crowley could truly show the human soldier person that he doesn't want to hurt him. He has that ability. But sharing that with him would probably do nothing but frighten him, and that's not what Crowley is after.]

What are you so afraid of?

[worthallthis]

[(Every-fucking-thing, pal. Not helpful.) Of course, it doesn't even know what to say. The fear just is. There's no words for it. It just is.

The Soldier shrugs helplessly.]

[sauntered_downward]

I could make you not afraid anymore.

[worthallthis]

[Okay, now that? That is a viable temptation. The Soldier's head snaps around, eyes meeting the sunglasses, albeit briefly, before going unfocused down onto Crowley's chest.]

How.

[sauntered_downward]

I have certain abilities. Comes with being what I am.

It would mean you'd have to trust me, a bit.

[worthallthis]

[Of course there's a catch. (Could just lie and say we trusted him.) It's tempting. Fucking tempting. And also terrifying, because hey, even not being afraid is apparently frightening.]

How much trust.

[sauntered_downward]

I'd have to touch you. Have to get a bit into your head, go in and numb up the fear centers, keep you from feeling afraid.

Like surgery, without a knife. And it won't hurt. It'll just feel...weird.

[worthallthis]

[That sounds... way too much like things that's happened before. Surgeries. Getting into its head.

But not being afraid.

But touching. Trust.

(But not being fucking afraid.)]

How long does it last.

[sauntered_downward]

That depends on you.

[Probably not best to say that he's never quite done something like this before. He's made warriors fearless, he's made drunk men bold. He can definitely help a traumatized man not fear the things he fears.

Right?]

[worthallthis]

[That's not an answer, not really. The Soldier looks away again, brow actually knitting up and mouth turning down. Thinking hard. Warring between trust and fear (like always).

(Think about it tactically. I don't fucking want to. Don't know how to function without it. This is the middle of a mission. Don't know what this will do or how long it will last or if he's even telling the truth. ... okay, fine, that's a good point.)

Finally it says,]

When we're back at the village. I will think about it.

[It wants badly, it really does, but there's work to do right now. It can't take that kind of risk.]

[sauntered_downward]

[It's something.

It also gives Crowley a chance to work up his nerve.]

All right. Whenever you're ready.

[worthallthis]

[There'd been the chance that if the Soldier turned the offer down now, it might never be available again. There's still that chance. But Crowley at least says he's willing to wait. Offer again later.

That's not nothing.

The Soldier looks at him sidelong, this time.]

Thank you.

[sauntered_downward]

[Crowley leans down, getting a bit more comfortable.]

I'm going to get a bit of sleep.

[worthallthis]

[Fucking finally. Why couldn't he have done that ten minutes ago? Life would be so much easier.]

Good. I hope you sleep well.

[The Soldier hefts its lantern back onto its back, ready for a patrol around the clearing, maybe to climb a tree for a better view of the area around said clearing.]

I'll send Aziraphale over here, too.