fridgetothefire: (bitter)
Anya Lehnsherr | Earth 97400 ([personal profile] fridgetothefire) wrote2014-02-22 12:47 am

042 ☣ a tiger in dog's clothing

[She wakes up, and the room is not familiar. She doesn't panic. She doesn't - the window leads to an abyss of stars, but it's better than no window. She opens the door, and it isn't locked, but the hallway is equally inscrutable. She breathes out, leaves it open a crack, and canvasses the room. Books, knitting, a windowseat - it's eerily comfortable, in a way that makes her skin crawl and Malachai whine sharply. She kicks him out of habit, but not very hard.

There's a file - not the same style as the intercision lab, with a torn scrap of paper resting on top, with scribbles in her own handwriting. It's all nonsense, unrelated words like:

- self-esteem
- trust
- politics?
- friends
- drive
- bitterness


She wants to crumple it up, but she doesn't know who will notice, so she sets it carefully aside and flips the file open. She reads the entire thing before she looks up again. Malachai is pressed to the side of her legs, more daring than he's been for a while, growling deep in his chest. She can't help but agree, her hand finding his narrow skull and rubbing his ears, slow and deliberate, contemplating. She feels his shock, but it ebbs. Rage always did help unite them. She needs to get out of here. She needs to find Ben. But maybe she needs to find this Morgana Pendragon too.]




[Private to Ben]

Ben. If you can hear this, tell me where you are.



[Private to Morgana]

[There's a lull of silence, just Anya's face, frowning faintly at the screen. She doesn't know what to say. She's harder and colder than the Anya Morgana knows - not bright and sharp like she was on the mirror barge, but hunched and honed.]

Do you have information about me, too?



[Open spam]

[She paces out the bounds of her new prison. Larger, nicer, stranger. She wants to rip someone else's hair out. Malachai walks behind her, with a buffer of air between them, one foot of No Man's Land. He's a sandy-brindled creature in the shape of a sleek, low-slung dog, some kind of mutt, certainly part greyhound - unless someone really looks at him, realizes how big he is despite the way he slinks, over six feet from nose to tail tip, or the curving, not-quite-right way his hips are slung. He is nothing like a dog.

She's been told there are no other daemons here, that it doesn't make them mindless, or monsters. but every time she passes anyone, she has to struggle not stare, and Malachai draws mincingly closer to her, though she pushes him away.]




[Spam for Riddick but also Open in the CES]

[Zane is hungry. And he's some kind of sea creature and not - (her brother) - not the one she knows, not the one she promised to try to come back to. But he's still hers, somehow, and he's in a box, and he's hungry.

Anya is the sort of person who leaves herself notes, nowadays, in case of floods just like this: a little folded placard in her own handwriting sitting on top of her warden's item, This opens doors, like a much more helpful version of Alice's Drink me. So she looks for a door with food behind it, and finds a forest instead. She hears rustling and bird calls and she doesn't understand, but it doesn't matter: Malachai is an ambush predator. She climbs a tree, and he stalks out a place some twenty-five feet upwind. It's a small stretch, for them. And they wait.]
youwillgotohell: ("and I'll be obscene")

[Private]

[personal profile] youwillgotohell 2014-02-22 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
[When she sees the notification of a message, sees Anya just - stare, like that, Morgana's not sure if she's inclined to wariness or resigning to having to explain things to yet another person.

It's the way she holds herself that gives Morgana pause. This is someone very different.]


Your file, you mean?
youwillgotohell: (the pull on my flesh was just too strong)

[Private]

[personal profile] youwillgotohell 2014-02-24 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
It's true enough.

[She doesn't take the offer, though it would be easier, to just avoid Anya until the end of the flood. But she can't help but wonder on the life of this Anya.]

But the file I have isn't about you.
youwillgotohell: (that I have died died died died)

[Private]

[personal profile] youwillgotohell 2014-02-24 05:55 am (UTC)(link)
A different you. A different Anya Lehnsherr. Where are you from?

[She's careful and blunt at once: truth and avoidance, preparation for anger or confusion. She doesn't bother mentioning the Admiral - if she has to ask, she won't know anything about the Barge.
youwillgotohell: (I'm living dead dead dead dead)

[Private]

[personal profile] youwillgotohell 2014-02-24 06:20 am (UTC)(link)
Felix? [It's just as tentative, a little pained. It's been a long time since he left, and she swallows hard to push past it.]

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warisart: (Barcode)

[ Private : Voice ]

[personal profile] warisart 2014-02-22 06:37 am (UTC)(link)
[Ben has, of course, worked out how to operate the communicator; it is one of few things he understands implicitly here.

Unlike how the girl he doesn't recognize knows his name. His
name, of all things, which he has told no one; and a demand. He opens the line promptly, just in case she is a superior and this is a test of some kind, but does not speak immediately.

Then:
] My designation is X5-493. I have been assigned cabin 6 on level 3, ma'am.
warisart: (Default)

[ Spam ]

[personal profile] warisart 2014-02-22 08:00 pm (UTC)(link)

[Ben blinks at the communicator, but it's a simple enough order, easy to follow. He prefers to stay in the familiar surroundings of his barracks, anyway, even if there's only one cot and one trunk in here.

He stands at the ready because it will take him too much time to get up again around the crutches and the knee-straightening cast on his left leg; he's able, thus, to answer promptly when she knocks, standing carefully back out of the way so she can enter unhindered. All signs of apprehension are carefully hidden behind the careful blank neutrality of his expression, though nothing can hide the brightness of his eyes, unfocused straight ahead as they are.]

Ma'am.

warisart: (X5-493)

[ Spam ]

[personal profile] warisart 2014-02-23 04:37 am (UTC)(link)
[Ben glances down at the creature, unable to identify it or the sound it's making, but it likely only has one purpose. Every creature obedient to humans he's ever seen has been for only one purpose, and he reminds himself to remember to watch for it, in case its commands aren't obvious.

There's the name again. He hesitates, standing at attention as best he can with the cast, listening to the sound of his pulse and trying desperately to decide if this really is some kind of test, if he is not meant to respond. None of this struggle shows on the surface.
]

Ma'am, my designation is X5-493. I do not know anyone named Nadya.

My leg is in the final stages of healing from a simple transverse fracture to the femur and tibia just above and below the joint; I will be ready for full duty before the week has ended.

[There's no other room, no furniture for a wildcat to hide behind or under; the bed is too high to provide cover, and there is nothing else in the single room. She isn't here, and Ben's flat, toneless voice does not register any kind of recognition, for Anya or for the absent daemon.]
warisart: (Hurt)

[ Spam ]

[personal profile] warisart 2014-02-25 07:03 am (UTC)(link)
[Her upset is almost palpable, and it makes something at the core of Ben nervous in a way very little does; he is afraid almost constantly, but he wants to shrink away from her, the part of him that does not know how to keen for the comfort it needs to survive gibbering in terror at such an uncontrolled show of emotion. His confusion doesn't help.

He doesn't know what a daemon is, nor an African Wildcat, nor anyone named Nadya; he has never owned anything in his life. No one was going to get him out of there. No one could.

Instinctively, despite everything, he wants to comfort her but he doesn't begin to know how. It's only the one thing she did get right - his name is Ben, his
name is Ben, it is the one thing they could never take from him and that he was given freely with nothing expected in return, and it is death to admit to but it is his - that gives him the courage to even try.]

Ma'am, please. I don't... I don't understand. Please don't...

My name is Ben. [His pulse in his own ears drowns out the admission. It is his, and it is death.]

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wedonot: (Default)

[personal profile] wedonot 2014-02-23 01:48 am (UTC)(link)

[Charles stares back.

It's not that he's reading her mind so much as she's shouting her discomfort at him, and even though he hadn't known Anya during that other life, he remembers having a permanent companion you could trust to keep your secrets, to encourage or nag.

Sometimes he realizes he misses it, and he misses Hypatia more now that he doesn't have Erik nearby, either.

He considers leaving her be, knowing there's potential to just confuse or upset her if he acts as though he knows her, and he's still decidedly not sure what to think of her, even if Erik loves her.]


Are you looking for something?

wedonot: (Default)

[personal profile] wedonot 2014-02-24 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)

[He remembers Felix. It's still not the man she wants him to be - he can tell even if he's not searching for the answer in her mind - but he does know him, and he hasn't seen him here. Not that he's really been looking.]

I haven't. And I know what daemons are. [She doesn't need to explain them away, or try to pass them off as pets or familiars or something.]

wedonot: (Default)

[personal profile] wedonot 2014-02-27 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)

But nothing.

[His counterpart had known about intercision, so he knows how strange this probably seems to her. Hadn't been interested in it, but known about it, and had wanted to shut it down, but only along with the Magisterium and everything it stood for to build a new, better world.]

I just meant you didn't have to gloss over what they are. [And after a beat of hesitation:] Mine was a lioness.

wedonot: (Default)

[personal profile] wedonot 2014-02-28 01:00 am (UTC)(link)

Is, then.

[It's true enough, anyway. As much as he might like to argue about it, he does still have a soul. It's just very well hidden.]

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with_my_teacup: (Default)

CES spam

[personal profile] with_my_teacup 2014-02-26 06:03 am (UTC)(link)
[He was halfway expecting to see a strange, too-quiet copy of the last planet he was on when he went in-- was dressed for torrential, constant rain, because he knows he'll get it if he isn't prepared. The temperate forest isn't an unpleasant surprise, and he strips his outer layer of clothes and leaves them at the door, prowling in dressed in his day-wear.

He strolls into the forest, eyeing the faint tracks of a human-type animal (and something else-- he plucks a bit of crushed undergrowth and holds it to his nose. Inhales. It's nothing that rings a strong bell.)

Human type animal means barge denizen, and means curious; so instead of going into a hunting-tracking mode, he casually follows the tracks, walking openly in the forest. He'll see if anyone chimes in.]
with_my_teacup: (Vogue)

Re: CES spam

[personal profile] with_my_teacup 2014-02-28 07:20 pm (UTC)(link)
The CES? Supposed to keep us from getting too stir crazy, maybe. I never asked. [He stops, falling into an idle slouch with his thumbs hooked through his belt loops, not looking like a man who is pricklingly, completely aware of his surroundings.]