Devero (EMID 771-Prosp0202-00745) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
subcircuits) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
voidtreckerexpress2021-08-07 10:19 am
subcircuits) wrote in voidtreckerexpress2021-08-07 10:19 am
Catchall log for mid-Merriment, OTA!
Who: Devero and YOU
Where: All over the train
When: Merriment 17 through 21
What: Devero potters around the train, catching up on things and pretending he's not still really, really worn out from the mission.
Warnings: Recreational drug use in the luggage car prompt.
In the days following the platform, Devero is relieved to find that he's recovered enough energy to be able to stay awake for most of a day, and even to concentrate on projects again! The lassitude is hanging on to him longer than most, so he's still not quite is robust self, but he's present and working again. Between Merriment 17 and 21, he can be encountered all over the train.
Where does your character find him?
In the lab car?
Wait, since when is Devero glowing purple and semi-transparent? Come into the lab car on the right day at the right time and you'll find this specter moving about. Perhaps he's fiddling with a door latch, or you find him in one of the labs, picking things up and putting them back down again. There is absolutely neutral, lifeless expression on his face if you happen to catch sight of it, and-- Wait, is that some kind of glowing core in the middle of the shape?
In the training car?
Devero knows how to shoot a gun. Really. He swears. But if you happen in on him practicing his marksmanship with a sleek, futuristic rifle in his hands, it sure doesn't seem like it. He's visibly frustrated as he misses another shot, dropping the gun down from his shoulder and turning his back on his target. (Claudette tilts her head and chirrups. Does this mean the game is over?)
"Rust and ruin," he swears, shoving his wrap-around tactical Interface up on his forehead. "I'm never going to get the hang of this thing. I'm sorry, Entrapta."
In the library car:
Several weeks ago, Devero had snatched down the slip of paper that he'd tacked up in the standard car, the one advertising lessons in GSL-- Global Sign Language. The day of the platform, he'd tacked it back up again. Find him at the advertised time in the library, staring into the screen of his usual Interface. While he waits to see if anyone's going to show up, he's talking to himself.
You know, with his hands. How else? This is meant to be a sign-language lesson, after all!
In the music car:
As crowded as the train's been getting, the second floor of the music carriage is still a good place to slip away to if you're looking for (relative) privacy. Today, however, Devero's beaten you to it. If you don't notice right away that he's in here, though, that's understandable-- there's no music, no sound save for the whisper of his feet on the stage, the rustle of his clothes, and the occasional audible breath.
Despite the apparent silence, Devero is dancing. He's practicing alone an energetic routine for two, but there's no mistaking the precision and grace in his movements as he performs them, even without the partner.
Do you stay and watch, or leave him to dance in solitude?
In the luggage car?
If you've been on the train for longer than a few weeks, you may already be acquainted with this particular odor: it's savory, herby, as if someone's over-toasted spices in a pan prior to cooking with them. Were it a strong odor, it'd probably be sour and unpleasant; as mild as it is, it's mostly unobjectionable.
The source of it can be easily traced to the obviously hand-rolled cigarette smoldering between Devero's lips. That's right, it's future-weed hours here in the luggage car, folks. And if you look at him twice, you'll find him holding his joint out in your direction. "Want a hit?" he asks amiably.
Somewhere else?
Devero can feasibly be found all over the train: prepping vegetables or washing dishes in the kitchen; soaking or doing yoga in the spa car; working out in either of the gyms; sleeping through a movie in the cinema; or even just traveling up and down the train. Yeah, they have transgates now, but walking (or hoverskating) the length of the train is an easy way to keep his condition up while he's still recovering from the last mission. He's not nearly as exhausted as he was before, which means it's working. Really. He swears! He didn't fall asleep here, he was just resting his eyes!
Feel free to find him wherever you want, if one of the prompts above doesn't tickle your fancy.
Where: All over the train
When: Merriment 17 through 21
What: Devero potters around the train, catching up on things and pretending he's not still really, really worn out from the mission.
Warnings: Recreational drug use in the luggage car prompt.
In the days following the platform, Devero is relieved to find that he's recovered enough energy to be able to stay awake for most of a day, and even to concentrate on projects again! The lassitude is hanging on to him longer than most, so he's still not quite is robust self, but he's present and working again. Between Merriment 17 and 21, he can be encountered all over the train.
Where does your character find him?
In the lab car?
Wait, since when is Devero glowing purple and semi-transparent? Come into the lab car on the right day at the right time and you'll find this specter moving about. Perhaps he's fiddling with a door latch, or you find him in one of the labs, picking things up and putting them back down again. There is absolutely neutral, lifeless expression on his face if you happen to catch sight of it, and-- Wait, is that some kind of glowing core in the middle of the shape?
In the training car?
Devero knows how to shoot a gun. Really. He swears. But if you happen in on him practicing his marksmanship with a sleek, futuristic rifle in his hands, it sure doesn't seem like it. He's visibly frustrated as he misses another shot, dropping the gun down from his shoulder and turning his back on his target. (Claudette tilts her head and chirrups. Does this mean the game is over?)
"Rust and ruin," he swears, shoving his wrap-around tactical Interface up on his forehead. "I'm never going to get the hang of this thing. I'm sorry, Entrapta."
In the library car:
Several weeks ago, Devero had snatched down the slip of paper that he'd tacked up in the standard car, the one advertising lessons in GSL-- Global Sign Language. The day of the platform, he'd tacked it back up again. Find him at the advertised time in the library, staring into the screen of his usual Interface. While he waits to see if anyone's going to show up, he's talking to himself.
You know, with his hands. How else? This is meant to be a sign-language lesson, after all!
In the music car:
As crowded as the train's been getting, the second floor of the music carriage is still a good place to slip away to if you're looking for (relative) privacy. Today, however, Devero's beaten you to it. If you don't notice right away that he's in here, though, that's understandable-- there's no music, no sound save for the whisper of his feet on the stage, the rustle of his clothes, and the occasional audible breath.
Despite the apparent silence, Devero is dancing. He's practicing alone an energetic routine for two, but there's no mistaking the precision and grace in his movements as he performs them, even without the partner.
Do you stay and watch, or leave him to dance in solitude?
In the luggage car?
If you've been on the train for longer than a few weeks, you may already be acquainted with this particular odor: it's savory, herby, as if someone's over-toasted spices in a pan prior to cooking with them. Were it a strong odor, it'd probably be sour and unpleasant; as mild as it is, it's mostly unobjectionable.
The source of it can be easily traced to the obviously hand-rolled cigarette smoldering between Devero's lips. That's right, it's future-weed hours here in the luggage car, folks. And if you look at him twice, you'll find him holding his joint out in your direction. "Want a hit?" he asks amiably.
Somewhere else?
Devero can feasibly be found all over the train: prepping vegetables or washing dishes in the kitchen; soaking or doing yoga in the spa car; working out in either of the gyms; sleeping through a movie in the cinema; or even just traveling up and down the train. Yeah, they have transgates now, but walking (or hoverskating) the length of the train is an easy way to keep his condition up while he's still recovering from the last mission. He's not nearly as exhausted as he was before, which means it's working. Really. He swears! He didn't fall asleep here, he was just resting his eyes!
Feel free to find him wherever you want, if one of the prompts above doesn't tickle your fancy.
no subject
"'The past is a warning, the present a gift, and the future a promise'," he continues. "That's what they say on my world. You can learn from the past-- you can look at everything you did and you can figure out where you made your mistakes, where you failed your people--" That part Devero understands, even if the scope of his failure is completely different than the tragedy of the mutiny of Yondu's crew. "--but you can't live there. Only place any of us can live is in the present, and the only direction we can go from here is forward."
He pauses a moment, rubbing Yondu's hand gently between his own as he thinks about how to phrase what he wants to say next. "Your crew is-- is gone," he continues finally, "but you're not. And you're not alone here, Yondu. Maybe we're not your crew, but you're as much a part of this community as any of the rest of us."
He looks over, trying to catch those red eyes. "You don't have to carry all of this pain alone."
no subject
"I don't got much future left ahead of me." Despite saying that, he does see what he's trying to say. Even if this particular past- he didn't do anything to deserve that, he doesn't think. He wouldn't sell out his son, and some people stood by him. Then they died for it, and he can still hear their desperation in calling for him. Sometimes he doesn't even have to be asleep. The memory just intrudes.
"An a lot of the people on this train are kids. I hate puttin' things too heavy on 'em. They're dealin' with enough of their own. Hell, fresh off of everythin' just as much as I am. You're even dealin' with too much shit to be worried about none of mine." Because Yondu, even if he's been through hell, he's through hell. Devero's still in it back home, has to struggle his way out of it.
"Shouldn't have said as much as I did just now." And he's not even mentioning the paranoia- the reality that at some point someone will hurt him with what they know. He's accepted that he'll lose people gracefully, but that doesn't mean he's prepared for a lashing.
no subject
He uses his grip on Yondu's hand to bang their joined fist against his knee. "If I'm here, it's because I want to be. I'm asking you to respect that, okay?"
He's realizing he's real tired of someone else deciding what's best for him, or what he can and can't handle.
"You're right about the kids," he adds, gentling unconsciously. "None of these kids should fucking be here and it's our job to make this experience as easy on them as we can. But I'm not asking you to tell any of the kids all the stuff you just laid down on me; I'm asking you to let me and the other adults help hold you up, like--"
Now his voice goes really quiet. "Like you helped me, the other night. Is that what a community's for? Mutual support?"
no subject
Yondu has friends here, but most (with a few exceptions) of them are parents like him, he realizes. People that have raised children. Otherwise it's been remarkably hard to get close to people. Somehow he guesses with other parents that they'd not be needlessly aggressive towards him and that he doesn't get, but he's always surprised at the instant connections.
"I'm scared of y'all." He admits.
Scared of what? He'll get closer to people and have that hole in him ripped open again when they leave. He'd mess up and see someone look at him with contempt every day, every day because he cana't leave this place. He'll have to sit there and watch people die absolutely helplessly.
He's even a little scared of this man that's only got eight stains on him. But he did tell him as much as he did. He did crawl into bed with him and try to hold the cracks together when he saw him starting to break. His thumb moves in the hands wrapped around his, rubbing along the first joint of his index finger. A tiny little trapped motion. "It was a lot easier doin' what I did for you."
no subject
He opens his hands up a fraction, enough for that thumb to move more easily or reach farther, but otherwise does not yet relinquish his hold on Yondu's hand.
"What are you scared of?" he asks. He can make some educated guesses based on everything Yondu's told him so far, but he wants to hear him say it. That's what Koumyou keeps doing to him, after all, and damn if it isn't helping.
no subject
"Speakin' of not helpin' ourselves... Sanzo's pretty sure that you're gonna give up on him eventually. Now I know you don't got no intention to, an' provin' otherwise is an uphill battle. He mighta even told you as much himself.
"But I think a part of it is... an' I ain't sure about this? But I think to him that's almost a happy endin'. If he loses you that way, it ain't from you dyin'. It ain't from you turnin' out to be someone else. I know there's other shit in there but I think part of him expectin' you go is seein' that as the best outcome. He cain't think of no better."
Yondu steeples his fingers in front of him, elbows on his knees, and sneers in thought. "Just next time ya talk to 'im or somethin', don't think of it as a lack of faith or him givin' up on ya. Think of it as this really bass ackwards way to want happiness. That's probably the most realistic good end turn-out in his head."
no subject
Plus, he picked the right subject to dodge too. Devero listens to him gravely, his expression growing almost haunted as Yondu lays that out. He knows that Koumyou expects him to leave him someday, that's not news, but that Koumyou might consider that their happy ending? Oof.
It makes so much sense now that Yondu's said it, but it still makes his heart hurt. He actually has to look away to compose his expression, clasping his hands together and pressing them against his heart for a moment.
"Rust and ruin," he says quietly, sounding a little shooketh, as the kids say. "I... I think you're right. Oh, Koumyou."
no subject
"So don't get too insulted, don't take it as him losin' faith. Take it as what it is. Probably the last bit of self-preservation a holy man will allow himself."
He pats Devero's shoulder, finally, then gets to his feet so he can keep ascending the stairs towards his earlier target. It's a lot to leave him with, but it's something that needed laid out before a bigger misunderstanding could happen.