somakemelaugh (
somakemelaugh) wrote in
driftfleet2019-05-06 06:36 pm
Entry tags:
losing it hurt the first time
Who: Undertaker and WHOEVER!
Broadcast: Video
Action: On the Goldstone, in the lab where Undertaker works
When: Naow
The loss of 20/20 vision had been a crippling thing when his life ended all that time ago and Undertaker found himself thrown to the mercies of the afterlife and what awaited him upon his suicide. No one needed to explain it to him then, but it was a form of control enacted by the gods, designed to keep everyone who followed those same footsteps in check. By degrading vision, something people relied on heavily, and giving them a singular means to correct it, the higher ups were assured that those under their employ would follow the rules.
Only they hadn't counted on Undertaker and what he did to bend those rules. Those first few weeks after his escape had been painful, to say the least. First with the injuries that led to his many scars, then to the headaches as he taught himself painstakingly to live without spectacles. Oh, it hadn't been easy, but it had all been necessary.
Now, it was necessary again, and all in the opposite direction. He was well aware of what he had been missing, forcing himself to cope with only half of the sight he should have had, and what he paid for in the wonders around him, he gained independence. Getting it all back, having his sight not only corrected, but improved, now that one hurt. He had tried to tolerate it, tried to fight through it. But it's quite clear to anyone who comes across him or views the footage that he's having a time of it.
Every few moments, he has to stop what he's doing and cover his eyes. This happens several times before he stops completely and feels his way to a seat in the lab and just sits there, face in both hands, and groans aloud where he thinks no one can hear him.
Poor him. If only he knew...
Broadcast: Video
Action: On the Goldstone, in the lab where Undertaker works
When: Naow
The loss of 20/20 vision had been a crippling thing when his life ended all that time ago and Undertaker found himself thrown to the mercies of the afterlife and what awaited him upon his suicide. No one needed to explain it to him then, but it was a form of control enacted by the gods, designed to keep everyone who followed those same footsteps in check. By degrading vision, something people relied on heavily, and giving them a singular means to correct it, the higher ups were assured that those under their employ would follow the rules.
Only they hadn't counted on Undertaker and what he did to bend those rules. Those first few weeks after his escape had been painful, to say the least. First with the injuries that led to his many scars, then to the headaches as he taught himself painstakingly to live without spectacles. Oh, it hadn't been easy, but it had all been necessary.
Now, it was necessary again, and all in the opposite direction. He was well aware of what he had been missing, forcing himself to cope with only half of the sight he should have had, and what he paid for in the wonders around him, he gained independence. Getting it all back, having his sight not only corrected, but improved, now that one hurt. He had tried to tolerate it, tried to fight through it. But it's quite clear to anyone who comes across him or views the footage that he's having a time of it.
Every few moments, he has to stop what he's doing and cover his eyes. This happens several times before he stops completely and feels his way to a seat in the lab and just sits there, face in both hands, and groans aloud where he thinks no one can hear him.
Poor him. If only he knew...

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Then it is good. It has benefited you in a positive way. That is what is important.
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Have you ever put a sheet of very thin paper over your face or tried to look through a bit of glass that wasn't quite smooth? That's what the world looked like to me for years. I've forgotten.
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Hopefully it becomes easier quickly.
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Oh, it's not so bad once you get used to it. Losing it hurts less than gaining it back. At least the process then wasn't as abrupt. They don't tend to play around with those augments here, do they?
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That sounds sinister. Perhaps, in exchange for my renewed vision, I might hide my tools in the lab or put the pillows out in the hallway. Won't I be so very cross with myself when I come to?
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To be honest though, I prefer to not have the lab busy.
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[Well now that sounded interesting.] Oh? Seen yours busy, have you?
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I have seen it busy at least on my ship. Not multiple people, but enough.
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[As amusing as that would be after the fact though. Maybe.] Ah, not something I would envy. It's enough sometimes just dealing with one client at a time and their mourning family.
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I have never had to deal with a mourning family. There were times though that I think that may have been better.
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Better than having to find something you've done gone and lost? Do tell. Must be something quite important.
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Bit of regret there, I see. I've been no saint myself, but if ever you want to talk about it... My eyes are useless, but the old ears work just fine.
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And you're welcome, all the same. There are too few people in this fleet as it is. Might not be much for pickings, but I don't think we're a bad bunch here. Least, not all of us.
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In time, there will be something. There always is, now and then. But before all of that, tea or coffee?
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Oh? Well, a rare one, you are. I can truthfully say, I've hardly ever met someone who had no preference between the two. I'm partial to tea myself, but I can make any you like. We'll let you take your pick when we meet up.
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