thisavrou_log | Arrival [Open & Closed]

Entry tags:

star wars: rey

Arrival [Open & Closed]

Who: Agent Carolina and OPEN; Carolina and York
When: Today
Where: Starting off at the Ingress Complex, but can be found on either planet
What: Carolina arrives
Warnings: Some violence towards York, possibly language, Carolina temper and tossing her helmet

[ARRIVAL]
[That she's pissed is an understatement, and while a part of her acknowledges that she should tone it down a notch, another part of her doesn't give a shit. She would strangle Epsilon if she could, but the thing about that is, that she can't. It's not only because he is an AI, but because he had gone and done something stupid. She had said that she wasn't going to lose anyone else, and yet all her words had been for nothing.

Her stomach is rolling, tossing and turning, and a part of her feels as if she has been in a fight, or rather, perhaps, another fight. She had been rude towards the medical staff, demanding answers, unsatisfied with the ones that she had gotten, and the moment she had been allowed to get out of there, she had. Her items are all but forgotten, this TAB and some clothing, as at the moment, they are the least of her concern. Whatever bullshit they had been telling her barely registered.

Tearing her helmet off, she tosses it, rather aggressively in a random direction, before her hand punches out at a wall. Her fist remains, pressed lightly against the small indent she has made, but it doesn't make her feel any better. Her red hair is a mess, her green eyes hard, and yet beneath it all, there is a deep annoyance and frustration.] Damn you, Epsilon.

[EITHER PLANET]
[Later she can be seen moving around this new place, helmet back on her head. There is a wariness to her motions, and now and again she tries the comm system on her helmet. From what she has learned, no Reds or Blues are here. She's still not certain if that is a good thing or not. As much as she had thought of them only as a means to an end in the beginning, they had become family to her, and if anything further did happen to them, Carolina would kick herself.

She might be a bit of a sight, donned in her full suit of armour, clomping around. She is a bit more mindful now of where she goes, yet she still is trying to understand everything that has happened. Her head is still pounding, and her hand stings slightly from earlier, but the rolling of her stomach has calmed slightly. It does bring back memories, memories that she has suppressed for so long, and Epsilon's words right through her head. Let it go.

First thing. Find out where in the universe she is. Second thing. Get back to Chorus.]

Hey. You!

[CLOSED TO YORK]
[Her day hasn't gotten any better, although arguably it hasn't gotten any worse. There is still that pissed off air about her, and with good reason. It isn't as if she had said sure, let's go on a field trip to some unknown planet. While things on Chorus aren't done, and even after that, she still has more to make up for. Always. Like she had told Epsilon, she didn't think that they would ever make it back to good, but little by little, they could make it better.

She'll have to do that alone now, it seems.

Yet she is making her way around the area she has found herself in. Perhaps others might have taken their time to change, to put something on that wasn't an obvious suit of cyan, but for Carolina, it's a second skin. She's spend so much time in her armour that being without it is the strange thing now. It's tech, and there still is more tech that she needs to find, pieces that have slipped in to the wrong hands, which is part of the reason she's chomping at the bit.

Yet, as if someone is answering her thoughts, she freezes as she catches the backside of another set of armour, and she can feel her pulse quicken as her heart lurches within her. It is familiar to her, so very familiar, and she knows whose it was... It is reflex that has her moving, charging forward, not caring if she is making a sight, for it is anger that fills her, and anger that has her bending at the waist and striking out with a foot towards the mid-section of the offending party.]

Where the hell did you get that armour!

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[ York hears the footsteps approaching and turns, but he's a second too late to dodge. If he'd even have been able to in his shock -- his eyes widen behind his visor as the strike hits and he goes down, staring up at an armored teal figure.

Wait. That voice.

It can't be, he thinks at first, it has to be a voice modulator. The armor is similar and the right color but it can't actually be her. Then he remembers where he is and how he was brought here, and that the time that Tex is from is different from his own. It's entirely possible. But 'where the hell did you get that armor'? That doesn't make any sense, she died before him... right? Had she lived? All that hope he had surges back and York lifts a hand to hold off another attack, sitting up slowly and trying to gather these thoughts as they blur through his mind.

Carolina.

It's Carolina.

He holds up his other hand, well away from his weapons, and reaches to pull off his helmet. That's the only way she can really be sure so he's going to cut to the chase. And he looks just as she remembers, down to the gelled hair. His good eye is shining with hope but his voice is firm when he speaks -- if it somehow isn't her this person is in for a world of pain. ]

Your turn.

[Relentless could well be a word to describe Carolina. Relentless and driven. There are so many wrongs that she needs to make right and that she needs to atone for. That one of them would be here is a shock to her, yet however this armour has arrived, she'll do what she needs to do. Arguably, she likely should have done some recon, taken some time to fully scope the situation, yet it was that need and desire perhaps to do something, anything, after what has happened on Chorus, that has her throwing everything to the wind.

Her skills certainly haven't deteriorated over the years, and she's on the figure the moment it lands. Whatever tricks they are going for, she's not going to fall for it. She'll tear it piece by bloody piece if she has to, until it's off, until it's back in her possession, and maybe, just maybe, something good can come from this wayward trip.

There is a punch aimed right for their head, and what does she care if they're taking their helmet off. There are few people that she knows from those days still alive, and she knows Wash isn't wearing York's armour, and closer and closer that fist goes, only to halt at seemingly the last possible second as his helmet comes off.]

No.

[That voice is thicker now and she stumbles back, not saying no to his statement, but no to his appearance. What type of sick joke it is, Carolina doesn't know. She's never heard of an armour that can change the appearance of the person inside, yet the reality of what is there is too much for her.]

It can't be. Your- [Dead.]

[ She's on him and then she's gone, the punch he was bracing for pulled as she stumbles away and that's when he's sure it's her. That she survived and despite searching and hoping he just never found her -- it had to be because she was hiding, from him as well as everything else and that's a knife straight through his heart but this isn't the time to feel sorry for himself. ]

I'm not. Not here.

[ His jaw works at the thought that she's not either, she never was, and he slowly stands up, helmet hanging from his fingertips. ]

'Lina... you got new armor. [ A forced smile. ] If I said I liked it, would you hold it against me?

[For the longest time, she hadn't wanted to be found. That York had gone with Tex... It has stung and smarted, and the only question there had always been, why her? Over time, she had progressed, had felt sorry that she hadn't listened to him, but she hadn't understood. Couldn't understand, until she learned the truth. As the saying went, too little too late, and in a way, that person that York knew is no more. She'd left her team mates, let them down, driven by her own goals and desires, and for what?

It had been that mentality of not deserving them, of making atonement, and she had almost made the same mistakes twice in the end, although Epsilon had gone a long way to keep her from what. Yet York... She didn't deserve to see him again, and if it is the Temple all over again... She's not certain that she can handle that again. And maybe she's staring, through her visor, seemingly frozen in place although the tension on her body speaks of movement at any moment.

It is her shoulders that slump, for there is a familiarity to the words, and slowly, her hands move up, and her own helmet comes off. They're mirrored then, for it dangles in her fingertips, and she's almost afraid to move. Small differences there, older, for one, and she lets a breath out.]

... you were right. I probably would have busted your other eye.

[Only fragments of the memories, little bits and pieces, had remained, yet it is enough there that he'll know that she's heard them.]

[ Well that's unexpected, that she's aged. He reaches out as if to touch her face, then pulls his hand back when she speaks. Because he does know those words, they're his. And not from so long ago that the entry she's quoting isn't fresh in his memory. It can't be a coincidence. ]

...what?

[ It's less than eloquent, but all he's got at the moment. Slowly, he pieces it together... and comes out the other side with a conclusion that stings like salt in the wound of her absence. She'd lived. She'd been alive when he was but had hidden from him. His jaw tightens, the hand that had been reaching for her curling with tension. It's not like she would have seen anything she didn't already know, but still. His cheeks flush lightly despite his willing the blush away. ]

How'd you get my journal?

[She is more or less stuck in place, still not certain what she wants to do. Hug him, punch him, turn around and say nope this is not happening. Carolina has kept track of certain things since her fall from the cliff, and she has made it her life's work to find anything from Project Freelancer that has fallen in to hands that shouldn't have it, but being confronted with York... That possibility has never entered the equation, and still her mind is running scenarios to justify this.]

It's... a long story.

[She doesn't need to be making direct eye contact with him to notice those shifts, the tension that enters him, as he must know now that the fall hadn't been her last, that she had played dead and laid low. That she hadn't come forward to anyone for the longest time. And she deserves it, deserves it all, for everything that she had done.]

Epsilon. He recovered some of Delta's memories.

[Because even if this isn't real and just some strange event again, she owes York that much- owes him so much more. Owes them all.]

I just- I didn't listen then, and I know now that I should have. I'm- I'm sorry, York.

[ Epsilon... Wash's AI? The one they had to pull? York's brow furrows as he tries to make sense of that, or how anyone could have recovered Delta's memories. Tex said Delta had stayed with him -- he would have been destroyed when the armor shut down.

But Carolina continues, and York hears something that's even harder to process. She apologizes.

It's a good thing, don't get him wrong, but it's not something he ever would have expected from her. He stares, then blinks, then shakes his head. ]

I appreciate that, but it's not going to change anything. We failed, we've come to terms with that. What I never came to terms with was losing you.

[Small changes. Little things. She's had a lot of time to chase ghosts, to be bitter and resentful. To let the rage and the hate seep at her. The whole "psychotic loner bitch" thing, to steal words that weren't her own, but that really had summed her up. It isn't a snap of her fingers and everything is peachy. Hell, she still gets riled up and does stupid things, but she has a team again, family, something she thought she would never deserve.]

I know.

[And she does know. It doesn't just magically erase the past or anything that she has done. Nothing will ever do that. No matter how hard she strives or how much she works to make things better, it will never be enough to absolve her. Carolina is fine with that.]

It is done though. Project Freelancer. The Director.

[Her father.

Something small, and it doesn't bring them back. She still holds that deep sorrow over their deaths, and she knows she always will. It is her failures as a leader and a comrade, her inability to trust, her ambition, her feelings of inadequacy. She knows it all.]

You kept looking, but I didn't want to be found. Not for a long time, York. [And even then, she'd only been found because she had presented herself, had needed aid in getting to her goal, and would have used whatever resources to get there.] I- When I realized, it was too late.

[ She's different. Not in any way that would make him less in love with her, in ways that would make him more. She's actually... acknowledging his feelings, and even talking about how she felt back then? York works through this slowly, trying to form a new image of Carolina in his mind that matches the one standing before him. And he realizes that what he doesn't know yet, the thing that he was always swimming upcurrent against, is what she wants.

She'd always been so focused on Freelancer, on her desire to be the best of them, to impress the Director. She never had room to fit in anything else, it had been so all-encompassing a thing to want. York, on the other hand, had always been fitting in other things around his desire to be close to her, and he's not sure he wants to do that again. Not sure he can do that again. Have someone be the center of his world when they're so distant. Close enough to see but just out of reach. He takes a breath and meets her gaze, lifting his hand again helplessly. He has to ask, he has to know. Would she let him in this time? ]

Do you feel like being found now?

[It isn't as if there is some switch that has been turned. Anger, annoyance, ambition. They are all still there, sometimes rearing their ugly head, yet she isn't driven by it like she used to. She could still be a hard ass, pushing those around her, pushing them to try harder. There are certain aspects of their lackadaisical attitude, or inability to comprehend simple concepts that drive her insane, and yet, at the same time, they have also grown on her.

She isn't the same person she was before Texas arrived, nor is she the same perhaps after Tex booted her from the top spot. She certainly beats herself up more, taking any hurt or injury against anyone as a slight against herself. They've taught her about trust again, about being a part of a whole, a team.

Like what she used to have, and what she had taken for granted.

York. That social and laid-back guy with his jokes and pick-up lines. She cared about him, yet it hadn't been enough then. She hadn't known how to let it go and had rather simply tried to hold on tighter to everything that she had felt was slipping through her fingers. At the end of the day, something more precious had done.

Her own eyes catch his, and she feels that she doesn't deserve this, whatever this is. Doesn't deserve seeing him again. Rather, like the temple, it feels like it should just be ripped from her time and time again, over and over. And maybe it will be...]

I don't know what I am anymore, York. Not a good guy, but I'm trying to do better.

[And her own hand reaches out, half expecting him to poof away the moment her gloved hand catches his own, and yet it doesn't, not even as her fingers brush against his own. Almost as if she is not expecting that, her forehead furrows. It's as solid as it has always been before, real and living, and she lets a soft breath out.]

But I don't want to lose any family ever again.

[ Not a good guy. Neither is he, but he's doing his best here in the hopes that some great scale will even out. That the terrible things he's done will -- well. They'll always matter, they'll always be a part of him and at the back of his mind, but they won't be what define his life anymore. Here lies York, he tried. That would be good enough. ]

That's all I'm doing.

[ Maybe Thisavrou is his second chance to do right.

And maybe Carolina showing up is a second chance for them. His fingers curl around hers and she's solid and real and there, even if he can't feel her warmth through their gloves. He holds on, remembering the last time he held her hand. How devoted he'd been back then even without any scrap of acknowledgment. In some ways it seems sad to think of now, but he has no regrets. He'd been there for her if she'd ever wanted it, the problem was she just hadn't. It sounds like that has changed. So maybe he can do it again. Be there. He tugs at her hand, drawing her closer if she'll come.

Family, she says, and he knows just what role he'd always wanted. ]

You only lost us because you pushed us away. I'm not going to lie, it hurts to know you were alive because it means you never stopped pushing. You still didn't want me there. I just need to know things will be different. I need you to let me in this time.

[It is that acknowledgment that she will never be balanced out. Everything that she has done, there is no going back, but there is taking every day as it comes to fix it, to better it. It's the reality that she has accepted, and she does plan to track down every single last piece of tech that had anything to do with Project Freelancer. In all likelihood, she might fall with that, but it isn't as if she has even thought beyond that.

Carolina would argue that York had tried to make it better before, that he hadn't been as blinded as she had. Then again, in those days, she had had a pretty good set of blinders on her face, focused like a hound on a scent, ignoring all else.

There is a moment of resistance when he pulls, but a moment is all. Old habits are hard to break and do take time. How long has she gone without trusting another, without trusting herself, a lone wolf? Longer than she cares to admit, if she is being truthful with herself.

She knows that she should have trusted herself and that she should have trusted him, but Texas. That she hadn't been able to get over, and it is that very thing that she has let go. Epsilon's words ring in her, about the failure time and time again, about always getting to close, and yet never achieving the goal that Tex set out to obtain.

Yet there is no excuse or apology that can make up for the fact that she did do exactly what he said. Carolina hadn't sought him out. She hadn't let on in any respect that she had survived her fall, and through Epsilon she knew that he had kept looking.]

I know. Every day, I remember that. [Directly, indirectly, their lives are on her hands. Avenging them by killing the Director had only gone so far. He wasn't the only one to blame.] I can't guarantee I will... But I promise I will try. That you can call me on my bullshit. That I will listen.

[ That's all he's asking for, really. That she's open enough right now to even tell him she'll try is as much as he could have wanted. And he can tell she means it -- if she's not actually as different as he thinks then she sure wants to be, and there's a little bit of a thrill in knowing that. He gets to learn who she is all over again, because she's alive. York smiles and it's genuine this time, relieved and hopeful at once. ]

You can bet I will, then. Never really held much back in the first place.

[ He doesn't want to let go of her but they should really get off the street with their little reunion. ]

Did you just get here?

[Rey is not used to people calling out to her. She tends to give off that "leave me alone" vibe, no "please" included. Said vibe had only gotten more intense since the Moirans' botched mission to get back to their respective homes. But after hearing the Hey. You! and realizing she's the only person on this particular street--well, she'd chalk it up as a first. As Rey turns to face the caller, she thinks that all she'd been trying to do was find some odd repair job to pay for some food, and here she is getting hassled by--

Someone in a remarkably familiar suit of armor. Wrong color, but basically the same suit. Her brows raise for a split second, recognition registering on her face before it's smothered by intrigue.

Rey immediately switches gears from "get the frack away from me" to something moderately less hostile. She looks the armor up and down, then stares at the visor for a few moments. She barely stops herself from asking if this person knows Tex. Not everyone from the same universe knows each other, even if sometimes it seems that way. Besides, Rey knows that Tex is a fairly private person--if she knows the person wearing this armor, she's sure they'll find each other eventually.

Rey keeps her tone mild, but is back on guard. This isn't the first time she's been approached by someone trying to be intimidating behind the defense of a mask.]

Yeah?

[The whole thing may well have gone in a completely different direction had Texas been mentioned. While Carolina can say that she has let a lot of it go, it is the simple fact that the past is the past that has made it so. She knows from Epsilon and from her own encounter while searching for the Director that it is the case. The woman who was a shadow of her mother, a failed attempt by her father, had found rest.

Carolina does observe from behind her helmet, eyes narrowing slightly. It isn't too often that she has run across people in civilian clothing. Too long, really, if she thinks about it. Yet it is the way that this girl looks at her that has her curious in return. Without knowing her though, the reaction may well be within normal parameters for her. Rather, Carolina goes forward with her own line of questioning, as mask or no mask, soft isn't something that anyone would call her.]

How long have you been here?

[Don't worry, soft isn't something Rey is used to. However, since being stolen away from her own part of the universe, she's seen it out of more people than she'd expected. First the Jedi she'd met, and then out of people from other places--people who had no reason to be kind to her, and still were. But this person's tone, this lack of regard for formalities or pretext is reminiscent of Jakku. Strangely, it puts her at ease.

She shifts her weight, resting a hand on her hip as she cocks her head to the side.]

Hard to say. The day and night cycle here is different than my own planet. And you?

[Rough around the edges is one way to put Carolina, although it is more her impatience at the situation than at the girl before her that fuels her. If she were to walk away, she wouldn't do anything against her- wouldn't call, wouldn't force her to stay. That she had stopped seemed to assay some of the rolling emotions within her.

Carolina doesn't like any of this, but for now, it's all she's got. She needs to figure out where to start and then start to gather information. The problem is, she doesn't quite know where to start just yet.

It isn't the answer that she is expecting, which does make her pause, before answering.]

Just recently. [Which might explain some of the abruptness that Carolina gives, although she knows that she is a work in progress. Knows that Epsilon would be having something to say about all this, even though she pushes the thought of him away.] Is there any formal government here?

[Rey's spent her entire life figuring out how to read people like Carolina--tough people, who didn't want to seem like their feathers were ruffled when they were, who wanted their presence to let everyone know that they were in charge. Unkar Plutt had been similar, and she'd had to know when to pick her battles with him. He could be forthcoming and generous one day, and completely rip her off the next. So she watches and listens to Carolina, keeping her face as impassive as possible. She has to be ready for anything. She can't see the face behind the helmet, but maybe she doesn't have to.

The revelation that Carolina is new gives Rey something to work with, and the following question, even more. She's the first stop for information, which gives her a lot of leeway. That doesn't mean she's going to lie--that isn't something she's ever been good at. But she can at least appear helpful with minimal effort.]

Not really. Just an understanding among everyone here that we all "do our part." [There is the slightest riff of sarcasm on that last phrase. Her follow-up is short and simple:] Why?

[Making friends hasn't always been her strong suit. In many ways, plowing ahead has been her go to. It hasn't always been like that, but those days in Freelancer, where she worked as a team with her team are gone. She has learned again though, learned what is means and what it entails. It's sometimes just instinct to return to that place where she as been.]

And what exactly is our part?

[Anyone she meets will get those questions. Carolina is done following things blindly. No more. Never again.]

[Rey isn't surprised the armored woman didn't answer her question, and she lets it go. She knows she treated people in almost the exact same way when she arrived on the Moira. This conversation is like a strange case of déjà vu. She lets her posture relax, deciding that if this was going to go sour somehow, it already would have. Something in her gut tells her it won't, anyway.]

Working, mostly. They all want us to have jobs. [Easier said than done, apparently. Rey is a jobless vagrant.]

[She's not above cracking bones and busting skulls, but psychotic bitch doesn't really suit her. Abrasive and driven, certainly are, but she has learned that beating answers doesn't always work quite as one expects, and it's not like it's her go to.]/small>

That's all? Jobs? Just go and get anyone? Pushing paper, sweeping floors?

[Not that she's done those. It just seems... a bit ridiculous.]

Edited 2017-03-01 02:51 (UTC)

[Rey gives a shrug, but honestly, her reaction had been similar when the Savrii had given their conditions for letting the Moirans come to their home. It had all seemed too simple, too good of a request. And yet, thus far, it had proven to be all they really did want.]

They'll even front you the money to start a business if you want.

[Her tone implies that she thinks it's exactly as crazy and too-good-to-be-true as it sounds.]

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Arrival [Open & Closed]

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kauto, region 1

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