You're always leaving me behind

[beautifulspaceraptor]

Who: Nihlus Kryik and you!
When: Aug 20th at night-ish.
Where: In a broom closet.
What: Troubled bird teen.
Warnings: Teen alcohol abuse, abandonment issues, possible mentions of self-harm, racism, bullying, etc.


There’s a broom closet somewhere on the Moira with a lanky little body curled up in its darkest corner. Under the acrid smell of cleaning agents and dust, there was a thick haze of something sweet and distinctly alcoholic.

A few people have come and gone, opening the door, realizing it’s not the location they’d wanted to end up in and then closing it again, not noticing the still form mostly hidden behind a shelf.

This suited Nihlus just fine. He waits until they leave before taking another sip.

It’s probably not healthy for a teen his size to have gone through this much of the bottle.

Health is the last thing on his mind.

Comments

[keelahselai]

When Tali walks through what she thought was the door to her room and finds it to be a broom closet, she near enough bangs her head on the door in frustration for the fourth time that day. That would have been the end of it - back out the door, try again elsewhere - if it hadn't been for the immediate smell of alcohol.

And as it is, her eyesight's a lot sharper in the dark than most, especially out of her mask, so it only takes a quick sweep of the closet to see that there's somebody hidden behind a shelf - and she instantly assumes they're has passed out drunk, they're so quiet.

"Hello? Ugh--" The door shuts behind her as she takes another step inside, leaving them annoyingly in the dark, with only the faint bio-luminescent glow of her eyes for light. Being a dim, humanoid torch in the dark has its uses; she finds Nihlus almost immediately.

"Hey, are you awake? Need me to take you to the med... Nihlus?"

[beautifulspaceraptor]

"Uuugh no, 'm not Nihlus."

He's just, you know, decked out in the guy's colony marks and wearing his oversized clothes.

Rubbing his face against his knee, the kid sighs with a soul-deep sort of misery before turning his head to woozily peer up at the person who'd found him. The sight makes him blink slowly, stunned for a long moment.

Then Nihlus takes another long drink before setting the bottle down between his shins and turning to squint up at Tali again.

"How're you not ded?"

And did he spike his own drink with a hallucinogen at some point?

[keelahselai]

She's still trying to figure out what to make of him for a moment there, drunk and clearly miserable and swamped in clothing several sizes too big.

"Science," she tells him dryly. "I'm a miracle of modern medicine." And with that, she crouches in front of him, already tired of standing towering over the kid.

"So who are you?" Hey, if he's not Nihlus... "And why are you drinking in a closet?"

[beautifulspaceraptor]

"'M a piece of shit."

There, that totally answers both questions, right? Right.

"What're you doing... talking to me?" Nihlus squints at her, pupils focusing unsteadily on the glow of her eyes. "Would think miracles'd've better things t' do."

[keelahselai]

It answers the questions, just in the worst possible way. She struggles not to let the sick, sudden rush of sadness show on her face as she looks on him.

"Nope," she says, and at least she's always been good at keeping her voice under control; it sounds matter of fact and perfectly friendly, like a kid hasn't just confessed a self-worth scraping along rock bottom. "Nothing I'd rather be doing.

"My name's Tali - and actually..." because maybe telling him will take his mind off things? Maybe? Probably not, but she can try, "I don't know how I'm here without a suit. I think it was gene therapy. I can eat levi amino food, too."

[beautifulspaceraptor]

"Wwwhhhooaa. What? Whoaaah."

That's... whoooaaaaa. He doesn't even know what to say to that. That's just plain freaking weird and kind of freaky.

"But... yer body's like, dextro still, rright? So how... whatt..."

His brain's not catching up properly with this. How would you change someone chirality? That was like, literally their whole everything.

[leftfeet]

"Nihlus?"

Robin hadn't meant to go through this door, of course. In fact, this had been her fourth unsuccessful attempt at getting into her office today, and she was beginning to grow quite frustrated with it.

Her annoyed frown, however, changes to a look of surprise and concern when she spots the young Turian on the floor. She's only ever met two on this ship, and although it seems like it was so long ago that they'd first met (nearly two decades, it feels like), Nihlus's markings aren't exactly easy to mistake for Garrus's - even in the dark.

"Are you alright?" She asks. It's sort of strange, being the older one now. She crouches down, to bring herself closer to eye-level with him.

[beautifulspaceraptor]

"Fuck nno."

He's borderline poisoned and his life is awful and everything is awful. Nihlus runs his hand over his browplating before looking up too see who the the fuck had found him. The voice sounded sorta familiar.

... Oh. Hey. It's the lady. From the Network. With the freaky hands... thing.

"... 'M not gonna be real good at qis... questions. Righnow."

You know, between the drunken slurring and his brain meats being soaked in an ungodly amount of alcohol right now.

[leftfeet]

Oh, okay. He's drunk. That... isn't great, but at least she knows how to deal with it.

"Okay. I won't ask you any questions then, but you're going to have to give me that bottle."

For one of the first times since this time dilation started happening, Robin's expression shifts to a more serious, concerned frown. She remembers what it's like to be a kid that age, in an entirely unfair situation - she can't help but feel that she should be looking out for him.

[beautifulspaceraptor]

"Mmmmmnnnnn."

Processing... request.

It's a fair trade as far as he could work it out (he can't work out a lot right now). He really, really doesn't want to be asked a lot of anything as is and while it was pretty excellent liquor, there's not really a lot left anyways.

After a moment more of internal struggling he puffs, grumbles and finally lifts the bottle up for her in agreement.

"Wouldn't drink it f' I were you. 'S dextro."

[leftfeet]

"I didn't plan on it."

She accepts the bottle from the drunken teen with one hand, and then hands it to an arm blooming out of the ground. Which, in turn, hands it to another arm, which hands it to another... until the liquor bottle is out the door and out of sight of the two of them.

"Come on. You can't stay in this closet forever." She says, extending her arm back to him again - this time with the intent of helping him stand up. "I'll take you back to your room, or to the medbay. Your choice."

[beautifulspaceraptor]

Nihlus follows the trail of hands as they disappear out the door, pupils blown in drunken fascination. It takes a moment for Robin's words to properly register and he looks back up.

"You dunno that."

There's quiet defiance in his eyes. He can stay in this room forever if he really wanted to and no one can stop him.

The fire dies as quickly as it'd flickered to life though and Nihlus' gaze drops to the proffered hand, dead and distant. After a long, quiet moment he finally takes it. Well, tries to. It takes a couple of tries between his impaired motor skills and spinning double-vision.

[notglitching]

Nihlus might not be the only one hit by this effect, but he'd certainly done more than most to make it public. Rinzler had observed the network post with something between incredulity and resignation, and promptly bumped "go find Nihlus" several rows up his priority queue.

It was on the list already. Ever since Clu's arrival in this system, Nihlus had been holding on to Rinzler's disk. And while the recent clusterfault might have rendered secrecy a null value, it hadn't quite instilled enough trust in the admin to quit the precaution entirely. Nihlus was safeguarding Rinzler's code. Rinzler was meeting with him every handful of user-days to sync. And, less overtly, trying to safeguard the user. Nihlus could take care of himself, but Clu knew now, and Rinzler would crash before he let his ally be at risk for helping him.

On the other hand, there Moira's usual risks? Well, there's a lot less to be done there. When scans find a match, Rinzler pauses, staring dubiously at the closet door housing the signature. He doesn't lag too long. The next time the door opens, Nihlus will hear a low, ticking rumble skipping out in steady beats. It's joined by a dark silhouette marked with points of red-orange light—a few of which slant slightly as the program tilts his helmet to the side. Status-query?

He's looking at Nihlus.

[beautifulspaceraptor]

Drowned in sadness and alcohol as he is, Nihlus's addled brain dismisses the tick-rumble as some weird ship-related noise. It isn't until Rinzler's pretty much standing next to him that even begins to vaguely conceive of the idea that it was pretty weird for ship noises to move around like that.

Even then, it's not really his intention to look up when he uncurls, but the bleary glimpse of a red-orange glow catches his eye. He follows the sparse little dots and lines of light up and up and...

The teen promptly wedges his skinny self flat against the wall, mandibles spread in a sloppy threat display, feet and hands scrabbling for purchase.

"The fuckk-"

[notglitching]

Status: lagged. Also twitchy. The whirring noise skips and quickens, audible exasperation as Nihlus both finally notices and reacts badly. Rinzler doesn't quite match the threat display, but his frame lowers marginally, fluid and ready to respond. The only thing more embarrassing than getting attacked by a glitched ally would be getting hit by one.

The program's hands stay empty and open, though, no reach for either of the batons clipped to his sides. The angle of the helmet increases pointedly, but Rinzler stays in place, giving the user time to acknowledge his presence and (hopefully) calm down.

[beautifulspaceraptor]

Fortunately, Nihlus wasn't nearly coordinated enough to throw his bottle at the weirdo. Instead he kind of freezes (well, freeze as much as a very drunk person could) and stares. Seconds tick by and his brain slowly pieces together the enforcer's human shape from the shadows.

"Scared t' piss outta me, you fuckin' asshole."

He slides slowly down the wall, still wary of the unfamiliar human and the weird ticking noises emanating from them, but too wobbly to really keep himself upright. Was the guy human? He can't actually smell anything with his nose stuffed by alcohol fumes.

Didn't move very human-like at all though.

Nihlus folds his mandibles back down, but there's still a good flash of teeth above them.

"What d'you want?"

[notglitching]

On the bright side, any anxiety Rinzler might have had about this confrontation is being rapidly overwritten. On the other? Glitched is beginning to seem like an understatement. Visuals flick to the bottle as the user slides down the wall in increments. Was this overcharge, or just an effect of the reversion?

Still, if the irritated edge to Rinzler's sound doesn't fade, he doesn't hesitate in reaching for his wrist. A quick tap to the MID and the usual text interface launches to the side, red-orange characters scrolling out as he types.

Confirm/deny: no recent memory access?

It doesn't really take a lot of confirmation at this point. But he supposes it's possible Nihlus just lost his sense of tact. And sense. And social skills.

[beautifulspaceraptor]

It takes a good minute for Nihlus to work out an answer. First he just stares blankly at the text. Then he squint at it because his vision kind of doubles up a little bit there and it's hard, okay? Then it takes his brain wayyyyy too long to actually understand the words and piece them together as a question.

"Wwhhat?"

That's helpful, right?

"Why're you computer speakin' at me," he asks, leveling an unsteady glare at the stranger.

[squadgoals]

The first time she opens the door, it's a mistake. Wrong room, again. But there's a lingering feel, as she focuses on something, barely hidden — then closes the door.

The second time she opens the door is on purpose. Picking her way back, between the rows of cleaning supply, she leans over the constant, wayward thorn in her side, lips thin, observing the much-empty bottle of dextro liquor. Kids.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

[beautifulspaceraptor]

At that voice, Nihlus groans an utterly agonized little sound and curls up into a tighter ball, refusing to look up.

"Goddess, fuckingg. Piares spare me," he grumbles, tugging the loose material around his cowl up over his fringe and head. His cowl wasn't anywhere near as filled out as his older self's was and there was a lot of spare fabric to work with.

"Jus' leave me alone, I wasn't doin' naught."

[squadgoals]

"Uh huh. Well, I'm thinking 'underage drinking' might fall into the category of 'doing something'. Thought I tucked you into bed, kid. Why are you downing a forty in the cleaning closet?"

The backlighting of the hallway makes it difficult to see, but on either side of her, there seems to be sizable bags of — something. The bags are opaque, and the contents isn't easily discerned from the shape.

[beautifulspaceraptor]

"Legal where 'm from."

The Hierarchy? His actual home? Nihlus doesn't really bother specifying which and Turians did, after all, generally have a much more lax attitude towards drug-use than humans did.

He also doesn't answer the actual question although his claws fist against the loose material of his uniform, hard enough to cut through fabric. Vision blocked as it is, the kid doesn't see the bags at all.

There's a muffled, tiny noise. Not a sob, not exactly. It's closer to the distress noise an injured fledgling might make.

[squadgoals]

Shepard doesn't respond — instead, she's already moving into the closet, bags in front of her, until she's more or less effectively by Nihlus' side. The "noise" — a cry? A hiccup? — emits as she's crouching down, and her expression pulls, her real concern finally showing flush.

"Hey," compared to their other encounters, Shepard's voice is soft, even, kind. "Think you can sit up for me a little? I've got something softer than a pipe for you to lay against."

True to her words, she's got a pillow in both hands, and no inclination to suffocate him with them.

rocks up late with no starbucks even to make it better

[kaijumanic]

So at first this whole 'mystery room' thing was an okay way to spend an afternoon; letting him explore parts of the ship he's not seen yet, but when you stumble into one too many bathrooms or walk in and see people doing stuff you don't want to see? It gets real old, real quick. He'd been trying to get back to engineering, and after a slew of wrong locations and embarrassing conversations, to end up in a broom closet is tugging on the last of his nerves.

Newt groans loudly, nearly bashing his head against the door jamb until he notices that he's not actually alone in this room. It takes him a moment to work out who it is, curled up in that dark corner, but he gives a small sigh when he realises.

Ah, he'd wondered where kid!Nihlus had gotten to.

Newt raises an eyebrow at the drink he's holding, and more importantly just how empty it is. Man, he's having crazy teenage flashbacks right about now, of all the times he locked himself in closets at MIT and tried to drink his problems away. It always made it worse.

"Hey, dude," he starts, shuffling toward the back of the closet so he can crouch next to him. "This broom closet is pretty happening, huh?"

sorry about the latenes too!

[beautifulspaceraptor]

Footsteps draw Nihlus out of his drunken, depressive stupor, green eyes sliding sideways to peer at the approaching man. That guy. Mmm, Newt was it? Newt. He remembers the name tagged to their vidchat.

"You kiddin'?" he laughs, the sound smothered halfway through by his own hand as a sudden wave of dizziness hits him. The kid closes his eyes, rolling his head back with a slow inhale.

"It's a rrright ol' party in here."