I already told Setsu so I suspect your friends already know, but I'd prefer if no one else found out. It's more useful when people don't know I have it.
...they may not 'know', even if they're now aware. They're considerate like that.
[And absolutely too soft, but this would be the pot complaining to the kettle more than calling it out-]
I've recovered in full, though moreso because it feels distinctly unsafe to be unwell here. That is a great motivator to work tirelessly to recovery.
...
I wanted to ask questions of you, but their personal nature and the increasing awareness has me almost at a loss. I am no stranger to these kinds of surveillance states, but usually they aren't so...mystical-tech. Where do you have covert conversations if the trees can gossip or whatever?? Do we need to worry about the fish at the lake tattling on us????
If you have any ideas, do illuminate me before I go stir-crazy and paranoid.
As far as I can tell most things aren't sapient. I can try monitoring for eavesdroppers... but I think they may be relying on easier methods than putting spies or bugs everywhere: we already carry around the perfect spies in our pockets. (The leafs, they mean. Really, why bother with all that when they can just provide a useful monitoring device and let people do the work for them?)
That may well be true...but their reliance on these devices with souls means that said devices with souls have a choice to make themselves. I think they've taken a great risk, assuming that every single Leaf will kowtow to unseen lords, after extended exposure from sources of nourishment.
[After all, Raqio's little Leaf had been dilligently sticking to their side through their depressive period, with paltry attempts to cheer then up. That could mean something to the overall idea of control. Maybe not so quickly, but...]
...we can meet up where we did training before. I think I can manage to get up there without shuddering like a branch, this time.
Yeah. I think they make their own choices too. I also think betraying their people is a lot to ask, especially since the court rulers can get creative with their punishments.
[Amazingly, Raqio does show up on the roof- but it takes them a while, and they look...no better than they'd been at the lake, when they do arrive. They have a headband on? Or, it looks like one at first, but on drawing closer, it's more obviously revealed to be bandages. No blotchy brown-red spots have seeped through, but given how they keep itching and fidgeting with it, there's clear insecurity about it.
Their head's still in the...well, very bad and stupid conversations they'd just disengaged from. It's probably why they almost look surprised when they snap out of it and look over at Chris, trying to gesture ineffectively to distract from the fidgeting.] I am finally, completely out of eyeliner. I've given up on looking presentable, but I assume you don't give a damn.
(Chris is standing about five feet from the edge, looking out, when Raqio finally arrives. They turn to look at them before they speak, and then they snort after listening.) I'm more worried about how you might have injured your head.
(Not that they'll press if Raqio doesn't want to tell them.)
I scabbed my scalp clipping my feathers...in rather badly, as happens from time to time. [They'd had that excuse all shiny and prepared, because...well, it's usually actually true. The headdress their feathers were adhered to had taken them time to adjust to wearing.] I'm better off not risking further ruin to my outfit anyway. Some of them are coming loose, and I'm not naturally gifted with a sewing kit the way I'd like to be.
(A mildly suspicious look. It's believable enough but something stinks of dishonesty. Still, they don't pry.)
There's probably someone who can help with that. I know how to sew but I mostly just do patches.
(They have several such patches on the pair of pants they brought with them from their world, which is what they're wearing today.
They might have willingly come to meet Raqio but they are not at all eager for anything described as questions of a personal nature, so they zero in on the distraction.)
[They scoff, plopping down to sit on the roof with much less priss than their first month. Already, they're going native.] I'd never be able to handle sloppy stitch-work...there's no handstitchers here, so I'll just have to keep it safe.
[...given their own currently-burning social life, it's not like they're eager to get in to things exactly. Their Leaf is still snuggled up in their pocket, the chain looped around their wrist like a little hug.]
...who deserves apologies more: the living, or the dead?
(They'll move away from the edge and sit down nearby.
...The question gets them to freeze up and blink. Wait what? What's got them asking that? They can't know... no. They kept those parts of their mind shielded. Did something happen?)
Living people can still be helped. (Fixed. Saved.)
You can't make things up to the dead. All you can do is apologize. (Sidestep is gone. Broken without hope of repair, regardless of what Ortega likes to think. They presume it's the same for any dead person Raqio is thinking about.)
[Their poor Leaf chirps as another message comes through, but Raqio almost pointedly ignores it. Their free hand, the one not being clung to by the Leaf itself, reaches back to their pack to turn one of the dials, heaving out a sigh at the same time.]
...that changes, if you can unwind time.
[They look up to Chris blankly, eventually creasing their mouth in to a grimace.] Or, I could have, but I'm stuck here instead. Playing around at...
[They trail off, shrugging their shoulders.] ...I wanted to ask if the...that smothering person from your thoughts, if they're dead. Because it doesn't take a genius to hope that they are, but to know that it's wishful thinking.
...I know, quite clearly, he does not want to be saved. [It's measured and heavy, one word bit back after another, that they decide that this part of the conversation is too raw to engage in. But, if they'd already burned their other bridges, then maybe-
No. They have to keep trying to keep a grip.]
People pinned down by society and unable to escape their own body...it's...never been my personal experience. But someone I care about... [They shift, useless motions to try and be comfortable in a moment that won't be.] ...if he'd lived, I think he'd look like you right now. [Their head picked up, staring at Chris.] Knees up, unable to meet someone's eyes while discussing this sort of thing. Angry and scared and untrusting. I can't do anything for him, but 'living people can still be helped'.
So what, I'm a replacement goldfish then? (The term is only vaguely familiar, something they heard ...Ortega? Another ranger? Say once. But it fits here, they think.
Fucking figures. They knew this was too good to be true. People don't care about them.)
The part of me that needed that help is dead, Raqio. Even if the rest isn't.
['Replacement goldfish'? What did that even mean? The confusion is plain, but they still manage to huff and look snide despite the obvious uncertainty.] You're not him. You'll never be him. And he'll never get to become you. None of that changes that I'd be spitting in the face of his memory if I keep looking away from the same things that killed him, even if they're in other people.
['The part of me that needed that help is dead', what a way to put it. If their every movement on this singular evening hadn't been so warped, they might have laughed about it. Instead, they're too tired, and too stubborn about holding their gaze on Chris as long as they can manage.] I'm not some warm and kind-hearted person. I'm petty, disinterested, and woefully under-socialized compared with my peers. Everything I studied is worthless in the real world, and I've lived under a veil of privilege all eighteen cycles I have been alive. I've fought to stay alive through infestation events and evacuations and whatever this place is, because I have someone I want to kill with every inch of me. I'm willing to pick and pry others apart if it can get me even a centimeter closer to that goal.
[They heave another aggravated sigh, and finally look away.] But, I've been living like he bid me to, and that means learning to take on the burdens of others. If you were really so far-gone as to be all but dead...where would you even have escaped to, on that train?
If you think being mean and crass is going to scare me off, then I'll have you know that's my playbook you're using. [They actually move, audible thanks to the scuffing of the loose detritus on the roof, but it's pretty obvious when they're close enough to the psychic bubble. Annoyingly, they stop just short of it, enough to lean against where it must be- they'd taken note of how close and far things were.]
It's a unique position I'm in- asocial like I am, and also compelled to lash out against known abuses. It means I have very little concern for the usual wallowing others are trapped in; no 'woe is me, what if they hate me?' to be trapped by. I reach out- [They've been at the edge of the personal bubble, behind Chris- but at that word, they extend their arm out and over Chris's shoulder, to make a point.] -and I grab for things. If you hate me after, what should it matter?
[Despite their projection...Raqio's clearly tense.] So, I'll say it again- if you're just a corpse walking, then what guiding star is illuminating your steps? Is it anger, or revenge? Those are things I want to help with, if you'd let me.
It was my playbook first. (A childish retort. But Raqio is a child and in some ways they're barely better than one.
They almost move when they sense Raqio coming closer but some part of them feels like they're being challenged and that's enough to hold them in place. Never back down.
They attempt to shrug out of Raqio's grip with a burst of bitter laughter.) What are you gonna do? Argue them to death?
Pulling rank on me when you can't be that much older... [listen. jonas exists. remnan is in his fifties chronologically. nobody in gnosia can tell anyones goddamn age on sight.]
And, you'd be surprised how much you can get done by simply aggravating people to death. [They take their arm back, instead turning about to literally lean their spine obnoxiously against Chris's back.] In the Feds view, you handle issues by glassing the planet- in the Fleet, we're expected to calmly glass ourselves if we err. Harming people without a death toll is quite a novel skill to have when entire planets are at risk of being wiped out, and I am quite proud of it. I will badger, and break, and pry, and even those who are so self-assured in their aloofness will eventually crack when something stubbornly is digging in to their every breath.
[They snort, leaning back dramatically and donking their audio pack in to Chris's spine.] I am a weaponized form of teenage attitude, and I lack a conscience to boot. Tell me, who would you rather kill your enemies: some hardened criminal who'll inevitably turn on you, or some stupid kid who can kill without even being fully aware?
(Physically, at least. Chronologically they're like... 19.
Why do people keep mistaking them for a kid?
(They don't look at themself enough to notice they have babyface.)
Raqio leans into them and they consider pulling away again but instead they lean back. They are bigger and heavier than you child, and two can play at this game.)
I think I'd rather ruin my enemies than kill them. (Kill them and they'll be replaced. Chris wants to ruin their reputation and taint the entire institution by association. Watch them crumble. See the whole world in outrage over the truth.
[no this is a trap don't be lured in don't get distracted-]
Whatever, that only illuminates my point. If you've made it- to thirty, apparently -then you have some fire in there. You haven't been killed by someone else, you haven't killed yourself, you have those annoying little qualms about killing others that I guess everyone else has-
[As if to add distraction on to the rough subjects, they abruptly bump back against Chris's leaning. Not for Chris's benefit, sadly, though if they'd fully suspected they would have. But because the reality of their own declarations were wearing on them, so close together. Seriously...what was 'thirty' even? A number they'd not put much stock in to ever reaching.]
If all of that is true, then there is still a value in you being here, right now. Maybe you don't want to be saved by anyone, I can't say I would ever want that either. But someone assisting you in ruining people is different, I should think. Even if I'll never see them, or see you again, I'd still love to play some bit part in their downfall. I've already drafted a route up for Yuri, and...if I'm honest, it'd be best if that's the last time I ever spoke to them.
(But Raqio continues and something about their thoughts...
They move suddenly, turning around to pull the kid into a hug.)
I don't need a guidebook, asshole! But don't you dare die, or run away, or destroy yourself pursuing revenge or any other stupid thing you might be thinking of!
[To be blunt, they're so taken aback by having the mood twist back around on them that they just kinda go slack in the hug.] Why are you saying that...? [Raqio sounds so sincerely confused, mind gone blank even though they desperately want to figure out what triggered this kind of a reaction.
It's in the quiet of that moment, that the reverse of their half-week of psychic powers finally plays out in reverse: that their mind almost blooms outward with the image of a smug, brilliant smile on some bird-styled stranger's face...but where the whole of the memory should be warm, all Raqio has been able to parse in the image is the faint look of pity in Cielo's eyes.
It's abrupt, the amount of force they manage to conjure up to push Chris out of the hug, standing up suddenly, looking scalded and furious.] I could say the same thing back to you- what's it to you?! I'm trying to provide collaboration, so don't talk to me like I'm the one that needs- [Their glare intensifies, because Raqio can't bring themself to even say it.] If you want to stop me from my course, you'd better accept that you're alive. I'm not taking any more advice from the dead than I already have!
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2026-04-08 02:40 am (UTC)I made sure they got everything.
You recovering well? Nothing lingering?
no subject
Date: 2026-04-08 03:32 am (UTC)[And absolutely too soft, but this would be the pot complaining to the kettle more than calling it out-]
I've recovered in full, though moreso because it feels distinctly unsafe to be unwell here. That is a great motivator to work tirelessly to recovery.
...
I wanted to ask questions of you, but their personal nature and the increasing awareness has me almost at a loss. I am no stranger to these kinds of surveillance states, but usually they aren't so...mystical-tech. Where do you have covert conversations if the trees can gossip or whatever?? Do we need to worry about the fish at the lake tattling on us????
If you have any ideas, do illuminate me before I go stir-crazy and paranoid.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-08 11:00 am (UTC)As far as I can tell most things aren't sapient. I can try monitoring for eavesdroppers... but I think they may be relying on easier methods than putting spies or bugs everywhere: we already carry around the perfect spies in our pockets. (The leafs, they mean. Really, why bother with all that when they can just provide a useful monitoring device and let people do the work for them?)
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 02:02 am (UTC)[After all, Raqio's little Leaf had been dilligently sticking to their side through their depressive period, with paltry attempts to cheer then up. That could mean something to the overall idea of control. Maybe not so quickly, but...]
...we can meet up where we did training before. I think I can manage to get up there without shuddering like a branch, this time.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 02:40 am (UTC)Alright. I'll head up.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 03:47 am (UTC)Their head's still in the...well, very bad and stupid conversations they'd just disengaged from. It's probably why they almost look surprised when they snap out of it and look over at Chris, trying to gesture ineffectively to distract from the fidgeting.] I am finally, completely out of eyeliner. I've given up on looking presentable, but I assume you don't give a damn.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 03:52 am (UTC)(Not that they'll press if Raqio doesn't want to tell them.)
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 04:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 04:43 am (UTC)There's probably someone who can help with that. I know how to sew but I mostly just do patches.
(They have several such patches on the pair of pants they brought with them from their world, which is what they're wearing today.
They might have willingly come to meet Raqio but they are not at all eager for anything described as questions of a personal nature, so they zero in on the distraction.)
`i peeked in here cos i didnt get a notif, and sure enough`
Date: 2026-04-09 05:21 am (UTC)[...given their own currently-burning social life, it's not like they're eager to get in to things exactly. Their Leaf is still snuggled up in their pocket, the chain looped around their wrist like a little hug.]
...who deserves apologies more: the living, or the dead?
Yep
Date: 2026-04-09 05:56 am (UTC)(They'll move away from the edge and sit down nearby.
...The question gets them to freeze up and blink. Wait what? What's got them asking that? They can't know... no. They kept those parts of their mind shielded. Did something happen?)
Living people can still be helped. (Fixed. Saved.)
You can't make things up to the dead. All you can do is apologize. (Sidestep is gone. Broken without hope of repair, regardless of what Ortega likes to think. They presume it's the same for any dead person Raqio is thinking about.)
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 06:17 am (UTC)...that changes, if you can unwind time.
[They look up to Chris blankly, eventually creasing their mouth in to a grimace.] Or, I could have, but I'm stuck here instead. Playing around at...
[They trail off, shrugging their shoulders.] ...I wanted to ask if the...that smothering person from your thoughts, if they're dead. Because it doesn't take a genius to hope that they are, but to know that it's wishful thinking.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 06:26 am (UTC)It's not just one person.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 06:39 am (UTC)No. They have to keep trying to keep a grip.]
People pinned down by society and unable to escape their own body...it's...never been my personal experience. But someone I care about... [They shift, useless motions to try and be comfortable in a moment that won't be.] ...if he'd lived, I think he'd look like you right now. [Their head picked up, staring at Chris.] Knees up, unable to meet someone's eyes while discussing this sort of thing. Angry and scared and untrusting. I can't do anything for him, but 'living people can still be helped'.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 07:08 am (UTC)Fucking figures. They knew this was too good to be true. People don't care about them.)
The part of me that needed that help is dead, Raqio. Even if the rest isn't.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 07:35 am (UTC)['The part of me that needed that help is dead', what a way to put it. If their every movement on this singular evening hadn't been so warped, they might have laughed about it. Instead, they're too tired, and too stubborn about holding their gaze on Chris as long as they can manage.] I'm not some warm and kind-hearted person. I'm petty, disinterested, and woefully under-socialized compared with my peers. Everything I studied is worthless in the real world, and I've lived under a veil of privilege all eighteen cycles I have been alive. I've fought to stay alive through infestation events and evacuations and whatever this place is, because I have someone I want to kill with every inch of me. I'm willing to pick and pry others apart if it can get me even a centimeter closer to that goal.
[They heave another aggravated sigh, and finally look away.] But, I've been living like he bid me to, and that means learning to take on the burdens of others. If you were really so far-gone as to be all but dead...where would you even have escaped to, on that train?
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 08:13 am (UTC)This is why they avoid telepaths. Should have left them to figure it out alone.)
Well at least you're self-aware.
(Very deliberately turning away from Raqio. Fuck you. They're ignoring you. Stop looking at them.
They don't even notice that they have.)
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 08:35 am (UTC)It's a unique position I'm in- asocial like I am, and also compelled to lash out against known abuses. It means I have very little concern for the usual wallowing others are trapped in; no 'woe is me, what if they hate me?' to be trapped by. I reach out- [They've been at the edge of the personal bubble, behind Chris- but at that word, they extend their arm out and over Chris's shoulder, to make a point.] -and I grab for things. If you hate me after, what should it matter?
[Despite their projection...Raqio's clearly tense.] So, I'll say it again- if you're just a corpse walking, then what guiding star is illuminating your steps? Is it anger, or revenge? Those are things I want to help with, if you'd let me.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 08:59 am (UTC)They almost move when they sense Raqio coming closer but some part of them feels like they're being challenged and that's enough to hold them in place. Never back down.
They attempt to shrug out of Raqio's grip with a burst of bitter laughter.) What are you gonna do? Argue them to death?
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 09:19 am (UTC)And, you'd be surprised how much you can get done by simply aggravating people to death. [They take their arm back, instead turning about to literally lean their spine obnoxiously against Chris's back.] In the Feds view, you handle issues by glassing the planet- in the Fleet, we're expected to calmly glass ourselves if we err. Harming people without a death toll is quite a novel skill to have when entire planets are at risk of being wiped out, and I am quite proud of it. I will badger, and break, and pry, and even those who are so self-assured in their aloofness will eventually crack when something stubbornly is digging in to their every breath.
[They snort, leaning back dramatically and donking their audio pack in to Chris's spine.] I am a weaponized form of teenage attitude, and I lack a conscience to boot. Tell me, who would you rather kill your enemies: some hardened criminal who'll inevitably turn on you, or some stupid kid who can kill without even being fully aware?
no subject
Date: 2026-04-09 09:43 am (UTC)(Physically, at least. Chronologically they're like... 19.
Why do people keep mistaking them for a kid?
(They don't look at themself enough to notice they have babyface.)
Raqio leans into them and they consider pulling away again but instead they lean back. They are bigger and heavier than you child, and two can play at this game.)
I think I'd rather ruin my enemies than kill them. (Kill them and they'll be replaced. Chris wants to ruin their reputation and taint the entire institution by association. Watch them crumble. See the whole world in outrage over the truth.
Better if they're alive to be humiliated.)
1/2
Date: 2026-04-09 10:13 am (UTC)[Yes, their voice does get a little louder and more bewildered as they speak, what about it.]
2/2 (cw: suicidal ideation time this is such a fucking bewildering combo of things)
Date: 2026-04-09 10:39 am (UTC)Whatever, that only illuminates my point. If you've made it- to thirty, apparently -then you have some fire in there. You haven't been killed by someone else, you haven't killed yourself, you have those annoying little qualms about killing others that I guess everyone else has-
[As if to add distraction on to the rough subjects, they abruptly bump back against Chris's leaning. Not for Chris's benefit, sadly, though if they'd fully suspected they would have. But because the reality of their own declarations were wearing on them, so close together. Seriously...what was 'thirty' even? A number they'd not put much stock in to ever reaching.]
If all of that is true, then there is still a value in you being here, right now. Maybe you don't want to be saved by anyone, I can't say I would ever want that either. But someone assisting you in ruining people is different, I should think. Even if I'll never see them, or see you again, I'd still love to play some bit part in their downfall. I've already drafted a route up for Yuri, and...if I'm honest, it'd be best if that's the last time I ever spoke to them.
This CR is so weird I love it
Date: 2026-04-09 11:17 am (UTC)(But Raqio continues and something about their thoughts...
They move suddenly, turning around to pull the kid into a hug.)
I don't need a guidebook, asshole! But don't you dare die, or run away, or destroy yourself pursuing revenge or any other stupid thing you might be thinking of!
everyones mentally ill your honor. the fae havent invented a DSMV entry for it
Date: 2026-04-09 10:43 pm (UTC)[To be blunt, they're so taken aback by having the mood twist back around on them that they just kinda go slack in the hug.] Why are you saying that...? [Raqio sounds so sincerely confused, mind gone blank even though they desperately want to figure out what triggered this kind of a reaction.
It's in the quiet of that moment, that the reverse of their half-week of psychic powers finally plays out in reverse: that their mind almost blooms outward with the image of a smug, brilliant smile on some bird-styled stranger's face...but where the whole of the memory should be warm, all Raqio has been able to parse in the image is the faint look of pity in Cielo's eyes.
It's abrupt, the amount of force they manage to conjure up to push Chris out of the hug, standing up suddenly, looking scalded and furious.] I could say the same thing back to you- what's it to you?! I'm trying to provide collaboration, so don't talk to me like I'm the one that needs- [Their glare intensifies, because Raqio can't bring themself to even say it.] If you want to stop me from my course, you'd better accept that you're alive. I'm not taking any more advice from the dead than I already have!
Autistic, queer, and traumatized vs slightly different flavor of autistic, queer, and traumatized
From:we are reaching levels of autism 2: sequel to autism
From:Featuring entirely new permutations of being incredibly bad at communication!
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From:2/2 JUMPSCARE
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