(no subject)

[mortalcoil]

Who: Coil
Broadcast: Anonymous text, open to anyone
Action: SS Red Fish cargo hold, open to crewmates or visitors
When: Sometime after this little exchange

(OOC: warning for self-destructive and suicidal content.)


→ text
[he's made sure to keep this message anonymous, but that might be the only thought he puts solidly forward before he begins typing. after that, it's like the words are appearing on the screen on their own accord--fast and clumsy--and he's only watching.]

what hapepns at home if we die here

will they even know oe maybe it will be like we never existed

maybe we go back



→ action
[Coil wouldn't still be on the ship if he'd been able to help it. but the Red Fish is in orbit, and he still refuses to set foot in the shuttles. so, he's stuck in this little metal box, holed up in a dark corner of the cargo hold because he can't stand the sight of his own room. there, tucked amongst the alcove-shapes of big, empty containers, it's quiet and familiar. he'd had an important argument there, once. it's right where the previous captain liked to sit or sleep when he couldn't stand the confines of his own room either.

like an abandoned dog, Coil is lingering at the last spot that had made sense--as if staying there long enough might make something change, and the life he remembers best will inexplicably come right back. maybe something will happen there, and he will be taken away.

aside from quiet, stressed breathing, he's not making any noise. he's deep inside his own head, sunk somewhere that aches so bad he can't stand it, and he has been there for a while. he doesn't know how long he's been sitting there, staring at the small, beautiful white knife resting in front of him, but he has lost feeling in his limbs. curled up and squeezing his knees to his chest, tears are leaking over the dried tracks of those that have fallen before them, as the war rages on. the pros and cons, furies and fears, all clamor back and forth inside of him while he mentally screams at himself to reach out and make it stop.

just pick it up; easy as breathing.]

Comments

text;;

[reconstitution]

I wonder the same thing.

I'm not sure which option is best.

[mortalcoil]

[unlike his usual careful, delayed hunt-and-peck typing, this response comes fast.]

someone shuold find out

[child_of_bhaal]

[She spends a lot of her time in the cargo hold too. It's the most open space on the ship. So it's not surprising that she comes in there, while he's having a melt down in the corner.

He's quiet so she almost doesn't notice, but she catches the sound of breathing. She follows the sound cautiously, until she finds him, looking shocky and scared. And there's a knife, lying plainly in front of him.

She doesn't explode with worry, out overwhelm him with good intentions. No, she carefully comes close, kneeling down in front of him. It's then she sees the rear tracks, and that makes an icy stab of fear roll through her.]

Coil. What happened?

[Her voice is soft, even, and she signs along with it. She only spoke because she wants to make sure he realizes she's even there. There's no telling how far away he's run inside his own head.]

[mortalcoil]

[it's a good thing she speaks; he might not have bothered stepping out of himself at all, otherwise. at the sound of her voice, his eye flutters, and glances up to meet her gaze. he looks far beyond exhausted, but there is still a wild wideness to his stare.

he almost doesn't answer at all. she's familiar enough now that he doesn't automatically recoil at the thought of her seeing him like this, but that might have at least shaken him out of wherever he has gone. without that pang, he almost just sits there without offering anything back to her question. the thought of even trying to answer is just too overwhelming.

he eventually manages a tiny shake of his head, however. and his fists clench in response to letting himself respond even that much.]

[reconstitution]

There would be no way of telling unless they came back. If not, you're left wondering.

text.

[astrobleme]

Dying seems inadvisable to me. Too many variables involved.

I have a theory, though.

[mortalcoil]

maybe

[or he could just find out for himself.]

[mortalcoil]

[...well, if there is anything that has a hope of distracting him from the chaos of feelings, it's a nice clinical, logical word like that.]

theory

?

[child_of_bhaal]

[The last time she saw him this wrecked was when Zhas vanished, but even then he was at least expressive. This retreating is frightening, because she can guess where his thoughts are going. He's beyond upset, and he's staring at a knife. If you've been to that place, you don't need someone to tell you that's how bad off they are. And she's been there before.

She moves a little closer, puts her knee down in front of that white knife. And she puts her hand over his clenched fist.]

Whatever happened, this is not the way.

[text]

[walljumper]

i dont think the can do that

i mean i guess maybe? but like itd be a lot ov work an stuff

maybe going back though. but why worry about it? were here now right so we should just make the best of it!!

[reconstitution]

Maybe may as well be a no-win scenario.

[mortalcoil]

[especially with the way that Cole had split and gutted him, he can't help but feel peeled-raw and exposed when she says that. can everyone see inside of him now?

a breath hisses between his teeth as if her touch burns him, and his fist tightens under her hand. he hugs his knees, and his shoulders tense and begin to shrug up, like he's physically struggling to hold himself together.

and he looks away. he can't face her knowing.]

[mortalcoil]

its already no win

we just lose more and more here

it doesnt stop just gets worse and we re no better

[mortalcoil]

[there's a long pause there, before he finally answers.]

theres nothing here

its just a game wheere they take everyhting from us

or a punishment

[astrobleme]

It's based on something I've seen for myself. Not in the Fleet. At home. [...] Basically, if Atroma thinks of us as an investment, they're going to protect that investment. If they can't stop us from dying, they can undo it. They won't let us leave until they agree to it. That's my theory.

I won't give them the satisfaction of playing with my soul like that.

[mortalcoil]

[...there's a long pause where he's maybe thinking about that. or, at least trying, with the state he's in.]

what about the ones that disappear

[reconstitution]

It's not all loss.

There's a lot of it, yes.

[astrobleme]

That depends on why they disappeared.

[mortalcoil]

noe of it matters

i dont have antyhting that matters

[mortalcoil]

what do you mean

[reconstitution]

You have yourself. You know who you are. You have things you can claim as yours.

[child_of_bhaal]

[He's pulling away, protecting himself. She understand that, but he's protecting a festering wound. She doesn't take her hand away, as she might normally. He needs to understand she's not going anywhere. She's here with him, and she won't harm him.

Perhaps the best way to make him see that is to show him wounds of her own.]

My soul was stolen from me once. It was ripped right out of me, by a mage. He'd experimented on me, tortured me, to drive a wedge been my soul and the rest of myself. When it was gone, I'd never felt so empty. It's impossible to explain the void inside of me. It was hard to think anything would ever be all right again. I filled up with rage, hate, but it could never quite make that emptiness go away.

I was desperate, losing myself. I almost killed people I care about, because I kept forgetting what it was like care at all. The instinct, the rage, was all I had left. Except I also had logic. My mind wasn't gone, and I knew I didn't want to be a danger to anyone. And I was so very dangerous. My friends would sleep and I would stay up all night, imagining all the ways I could kill them. And I felt nothing at all about it.

So I thought about killing myself then. Finishing the problem before it got out of control; before I got out of control. But what would that solve? I'd just keep losing, over and over.

[She doesn't know if what she's saying is making sense to him, but she's trying. All the while carefully toeing the line of how much she tells him. Because regardless of how far they have come, the fact that she has grown to trust him far more than she had ever expected to, he still remains the one person in all the fleet that scares her.]

[mortalcoil]

[...oop. there's a pause that just kind of... drags on...

he might not be answering at all.]

[astrobleme]

If someone with low ratings disappears, that only makes sense. Atroma isn't getting a return on their investment, so they're done with that person. That person is probably sent home just in case they're more interesting later on. [As opposed to being butchered and served to aliens as an exotic delicacy...]

If someone randomly disappears, that's where it gets more unclear. But I have some ideas about that too. I think about this sort of thing pretty often...

[mortalcoil]

[whether or not he'll go back to the information later, pick out all things that could be crafted into weapons and turned on her when the time is right, he at least seems harmless now.

for once, he isn't lashing out at the rest of the world just as much as he punishes himself. now, the hatred is only turning inward. she's safe while he's only angry at himself.

he is listening, though. he's still wracked with tension, tears continuing to brim in his eye, poised on the edge of something... but he doesn't get worse as she goes on. he at least hears her.]