Ple Two (
pleple) wrote in
voidtreckerexpress2020-08-04 09:55 pm
[open] Oops a bad feel
Who: Ple Two and anyone.
Where: The music carriage mainly, but more vaguely elsewhere.
When: Grasshopper 16/17
What: A new arrival accidentally put some bad thoughts into her head, so she's going to deal with that somehow. Sorry Enna.
Warnings: Trauma of the 'human created to be a weapon' sort.
There's no reason to really give it too much thought. That new girl, as odd and interesting as she was, didn't and couldn't know a thing about Ple Two when they were speaking; it was not only casual conversation, it was a practical and sensible thought.
A weapon that can't do anything but be a weapon is useless, she'd said. A girl who knew nothing about her. Ple Two, who had found a few tiny, valuable little niches beyond fighting. There wasn't any reason it should make her chest feel so tight, heart pounding in her ears. It was silly, that it wormed into her brain, and drowned out her objections with a sort of dull buzzing. She was born in a tube among other clones, meant, before she'd ever been a single cell of her own, to pilot mobile suits in war.
It already worried her. Keeping it crammed down in the depths of her thoughts wasn't difficult, but she feared what life might be like without the relative structure, and the lack of choice, in her life now. How could she survive as anything but a weapon, meant for nothing else, yet cursed with a mind and heart of her own?
Going through her day after, the composure on her surface seemed more like blankness, eating and doing her chores with no conversation; and, worse, not actively seeking out the people who could actually help her. Instead, she found her way to the music car, cycling through song after song, genre after genre to find what might be even louder than the curtain hanging over her thoughts, until she could just obliterate it long enough to get steady again.
...so if you try to pull away headphones while she's there, or later sitting in the quiet car or rock garden, she apparently eventually settled on an eclectic mix of very heavy metal and strange and very loud alien music that would, technically, be described as a cappella if electronic instruments were alive and screaming at you.
[ ooc: Feel free to make up an encounter anywhere that fits, mostly she'll be looking glum and staring at nothingness while trying to explode her feelings with loud music. ]
Where: The music carriage mainly, but more vaguely elsewhere.
When: Grasshopper 16/17
What: A new arrival accidentally put some bad thoughts into her head, so she's going to deal with that somehow. Sorry Enna.
Warnings: Trauma of the 'human created to be a weapon' sort.
There's no reason to really give it too much thought. That new girl, as odd and interesting as she was, didn't and couldn't know a thing about Ple Two when they were speaking; it was not only casual conversation, it was a practical and sensible thought.
A weapon that can't do anything but be a weapon is useless, she'd said. A girl who knew nothing about her. Ple Two, who had found a few tiny, valuable little niches beyond fighting. There wasn't any reason it should make her chest feel so tight, heart pounding in her ears. It was silly, that it wormed into her brain, and drowned out her objections with a sort of dull buzzing. She was born in a tube among other clones, meant, before she'd ever been a single cell of her own, to pilot mobile suits in war.
It already worried her. Keeping it crammed down in the depths of her thoughts wasn't difficult, but she feared what life might be like without the relative structure, and the lack of choice, in her life now. How could she survive as anything but a weapon, meant for nothing else, yet cursed with a mind and heart of her own?
Going through her day after, the composure on her surface seemed more like blankness, eating and doing her chores with no conversation; and, worse, not actively seeking out the people who could actually help her. Instead, she found her way to the music car, cycling through song after song, genre after genre to find what might be even louder than the curtain hanging over her thoughts, until she could just obliterate it long enough to get steady again.
...so if you try to pull away headphones while she's there, or later sitting in the quiet car or rock garden, she apparently eventually settled on an eclectic mix of very heavy metal and strange and very loud alien music that would, technically, be described as a cappella if electronic instruments were alive and screaming at you.
[ ooc: Feel free to make up an encounter anywhere that fits, mostly she'll be looking glum and staring at nothingness while trying to explode her feelings with loud music. ]

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