...And also these.

[thespaceopera]

[ Calibration Rooms ]
( for N-Z characters )

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ROOMS BY CHARACTER

N - Q Nami Natasha Romanoff Nelkeila Tarid Nux Nyssa al Ghul Octavia Blake One Peggy Carter Phèdre nó Delaunay de Montrève

R - U R. Daneel Olivaw Rapunzel Remy LeBeau Riku Robin Redbreast Rogue Santanico Pandemonium Shawn Hunter Stefan (Alesci) Salvatore Steve "Orion" Rogers Steven Quartz Universe Souji Seta Stiles Stilinski Syeira Tadashi Hamada Tekhetsio

V - Z Vash the Stampede Vima Sunrider Vision (The) Wanda Maximoff Wrath Yamanaka Ino

Comments

Wrath

[pain_train]

[You step into the center of a military base, surrounded by a maze of skyscrapers that fades away into the distance. The sky is a uniform gray overhead, except for to your right, where it's cracked and a large chunk has fallen away, revealing a vivid, painted orange sunset.

Something isn't right, though. There are holes punched through the buildings, pipes left hanging in midair, water running endlessly, wires sparking away at nothing. You can't get out into the city to investigate, though. There's a razor-wire topped fence in the way (is it supposed to keep you in or others out?) and it just grows taller and taller if climbed.

She's on the parade ground, dancing around the edge of bottomless pits that have been punched through the ground. The cloying scent of honey wafts out of them. Wrath doesn't notice; she's doing sword exercises, or riding patterns on her hovercycle. At least that's probably Wrath; she's about the right size, but she's in full infantry armor, complete with black helmet. Red piping edges her sleeves and collar.

Most of the buildings on the base are locked, and the keypads inform you that you don't have the necessary security clearance. Other buildings, you just can't seem to get to; you always end up by the parade ground and barracks if you wander too far. But the barracks open into an art gallery, one that feels much airier and more expansive than the actual building that houses it. The halls are filled with paintings, in a myriad of styles from childish to impressionist paintings of light to horrific images in red and black. And on one of the benches, a calico tabby kitten sleeps, her tail tucked around her paws.]

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[some of these places have looked very much like his dreams. they've been filled with images of decay and destruction, of age and youth, of shadows just like his.

this, though? fuck, man. this isn't his turf at all.

sure, the city reminds him of the absolute madness the Third End caused, but he's got no interest in revisiting such things. so, he spends a while wandering and looking and trying to make sense of what's inside the walls, but he seems to go in circles when he isn't flat-out locked of things. eventually he finds himself back on the parade grounds, with the chaotic sweet smell and the bottomless pits and the woman who's doing some sort of combat practice (he guesses).

and he still doesn't have a clue to the way out, or who this belongs to, or even what he wants to do here... so he makes the decision to go walk up and interrupt the person in full, vaguely scary armor, despite his better sense.]

Excuse me.

[pain_train]

[For someone only 5'3" in combat boots, the armor helps the scary factor at least. But she stops as she's approached, and takes off her helmet, which puts paid to any intimidation factor. She's got bright pink hair. Miles of it, practically, god knows how she stuffed it all under the helmet. She's got a fairly deep voice for a woman, though.]

You look like a civilian so... you probably shouldn't be here. Are you lost?

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[he has been bullied down by girls that size before, but the bright pink hair does make him feel a little better. huh. he tilts his head, smiling at her as if he was absolutely supposed to be here.]

Yeah, I... Seem to have turned myself around a couple of times. [not totally a lie. he scratches his head, glancing down into one of those pits...] And the ominous, gaping holes in the ground are kind of throwing me off...

[pain_train]

[The sure is the cloying sent of honey wafting out of that pit.]

Oh? It's not like that where you're from? What part of the city?

I'm surprised the guards let you in the gate.

[birdsbirdsbirds]

[it sure is... he wrinkles his nose a little.]

Oh, the edge of things. It's... [he waves his hand. maybe she won't ask questions. he hopes "the edge" of the city isn't secretly on fire, or something that would invalidate his comment.]

It's been a strange day. [a beat. he glances down at the pits again.] Are they full of horrible giant monster bees? That seems like what would be down there.

[dancingmd]

[Beverly doesn't try to climb the fence, but she does peer through the chain links at the city beyond. Or, more accurately, at that sky, the stunning orange sunset, made so much more vivid by the gray surrounding it. Despite the fact that it's the painted thing, somehow it seems much more real than the dilapidated buildings of the city, the wires and pipes that make no sense, almost like the interiors of their ships.

Eventually, she turns her gaze from the sky and back towards the figure weaving her way through the pits, sword in hand. It's hard to tell for sure, but judging from the person's build and height, and the way she moves, Beverly would guess that it's Wrath. In any case, she's not really counting on them answering her, the way these things have gone, but she calls out anyway.]

Hello?

[pain_train]

[Wrath pauses at the greeting and looks at Beverly for a long time, just searching for why she feels familiar and trying to parse it with the surroundings.

Beverly's come for a visit at home, maybe? Okay, she can roll with that. It makes just enough sense.

She pulls off her helmet, her hair tumbling down around her shoulders.]

Hi, Beverly! What are you doing here?

[dancingmd]

[She opens her mouth to speak then abruptly shuts it, reevaluating her decision. Perhaps it is best not to resist the dream so much, this time. She smiles warmly.]< /small>

I wanted to see you.

[Not a total lie at least.]

[pain_train]

[Wrath smiles. Aw, that feels good. Having friends like this is still a new experience for her.]

It's good to see you too! You should have called, though. It's dangerous to go out without backup.

[dancingmd]

I promise, next time I will call. This time was ... A spur of the minute decision.

[unbearablynaive]

[There's more than one thing wrong about this environment, because nobody should have gaping holes in their mind, especially when they're actively interfering with its structure. The water pipes and electricity lines aren't just what they appear to be; they imply the owner is missing some important connections in their mind.

He finds her quickly enough, though he blinks in confusion at the figure below. It looks an awful lot like a figure from that movie about humans getting trapped in a computer and meeting programs. The sky is decidedly non-electronic, though, so perhaps he isn't in a robotic mind.]

Excuse me.

[pain_train]

[It takes her a moment to place this person and find some sort of dream logic that allows for his presence on base. Because of course, she's supposed to be here, and it's all normal and the way it should be.

She pulls her helmet off, and there's the familiar pink hair.] Hey! When did you get clearance?

[unbearablynaive]

[He blinks, but it quickly resolves into a smile at the now-recognizable Wrath.]

Recently, I'm afraid. Is this a safe place to conduct your training?

[pain_train]

Nowhere is safe. [She doesn't sound angry, or bitter. It's just a bald statement of fact.] So why worry about it?

[unbearablynaive]

[Everywhere is equally unsafe, then? He nods, though he still wears an expression of concern.]

I'm sorry to hear that. But it seems you're used to working within those constraints?

[pirasea]

[She might not know the place, but she can recognise the signs of destruction all too well. She's rather pleased for the daggers at her back. It seems like aftermath, but really. It isn't always so easy to tell. Much as she'd like to investigate that, though, it seems that's not meant to be. She's a skilled climber, but not so skilled as to get over a fence that keeps on growing. She doesn't try for long, admitting defeat and dropping down after it's extended in height only twice.

Luckily her next attempt at exploration goes a lot better, and she's treated tot he sight of Wrath practising sword exercises.]

What lovely form.

[She may or may not actually be talking about the exercises.]

[pain_train]

[Wrath stops, straightens, sword not at guard, but held loose and ready, point down. She doesn't recognize this person, at all, no stirring of memory, nothing to even try to integrate into the surroundings that feel so natural. So she keeps her helmet on, wary for the moment. When she speaks, her voice comes out distorted by the speakers, genderless and very authoritative.]

This is a restricted area. State your authorization code.

[pirasea]

[Isabela rolls her eyes, rather glad of being armed if this is how she's going to be treated. Not that she minds a fight, of course, if that's what it comes to.]

My dear, if it's restricted, you're doing a rather poor job of keeping people out of it.

[pain_train]

Disciplinary action on the guards is not your concern, citizen. State your authorization code. This is a restricted area and dangerous for civilians.

[Yeah, someone is going to get in trouble with their CO if she had anything to do with it. Because of its the base, obviously there are going to be guards... Somewhere.]

[pirasea]

You don't have to keep asking me for my authorisation code. I'm sure you've already realised I have none.

Which is, I take it, a problem.

[redactions]

[ This is familiar without being familiar. The charge in the air, the magnetic pull of the barracks. His feet take him everywhere he can go without touching anything — he's learnt by now, not to touch, even if overcome with the impulse to. The razor-wire is the only thing that earns his disapproval — it is always to keep people in and keep important things out. Or perhaps he's spent too much time in the cold to think of anything else first. ]

[ The art gallery is open — his eyes glaze over the paintings. It's always the horror that draws him — both the men he is — into its grip, and he traces the air over one of the paintings filled with red. ]

What's this, now?

wtg Jim, pick a super awful thing right off the bat

[pain_train]

[The painting draws you in, little details and brush work, a confusion of lights. Look long enough and you can hear, see, almost taste it.

It isn't one distinct memory, but a jumble, free association, a grain of thought and feeling for each brush stroke.

A stocky man with a dark goatee, eyes glimmering out of a coating of ash and filth. Octavian. He's grinning. He's always grinning because you joke with him, you throw rat bars at him, you put spent energy casings in his boots. You keep each other sane. Envy and Wrath, best partners

and he turns a black cylinder over in his hand, a dark shot glass, a shot, a gun, because he's got a gun

got a gun

a gun fixes everything

and it's that high-pitched whine in your ears, the sound of a drill, echoing and echoing and echoing, the smell of hot bone

Octavian raises the glass to salute you, the gun to the forehead of a woman with her mouth open like an O of shock, the gun to his own temple and his eyes aren't sparkling any more, his eyes aren't his as his finger squeezes

"We're not broken," he says, and the world is red. "We're broken because they break us."]

he's got this

[redactions]

[ Look long enough and be mired in the war. But the war is where he was born — this him. Out of fire and then ice. There's no fear left. He observes the memory with cold precision. The smell of smoke, whether real or not, it's there. The sound, as it echoes. The imprint, the red. Always, the red. ]

Do you think he's right?

[pain_train]

[There's a light pressure against Jim's calf. It's the kitten, raising up on her hind legs to paw at his trousers. She trills inquiringly.

(The kitten wears a bright pink collar, and has a little heart-shaped tag that reads Jellybean).]