Rachel (
futures_of_ash) wrote2021-12-13 10:32 pm
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Entry tags:
If I had been someone else...
Who: Rachel and the Captain
When: A few days after Rach arrives in this reality.
What: A hound and an ex-merc meet at a coliseum.
"Hey Cappis! Get your ass over here, you've got alive one for the high tier fights..."
He ran a hand over his face tiredly and glanced through the window at his room. He was a senior training, he got the powerful sorts situated here for entertainment and all that, it earned him a glass walled 'room' instead of the cages below. Still, he didn't appreciate the lack of privacy, especially in down hours. The glamour had worn off years ago, honestly, and it was just bloody minded stubbornness that kept him going now. "Syarnaek!" If there was one thing a merc history was good for it was knowing how to insult people in any language that rammed it home!
The meaty fist that smacked his window certainly wasn't pleased, no, "I said move your carcass or you'll be in the ring next you here? Live one inbound, psion cuffs!"
Huh, suppression cuffs? Been an age since he'd seen those one someone they brought in honestly. If they needed to be cuffed they couldn't be trusted to use their powers only in a fight, and psions without their powers tended to be useless.
"Terran. I think."
"How can you think?" he sneered. "Without your brain attachment." But he was pulling himself off his bunk and stretching. May as well see what the fuss was about. Oh, hey, "you get those stripes from the 'Terran'? You know they don't generally come clawed, right?"
"Surl yourself, Cappis."
Yeah, sure, Terran. He was still laughing to himself as he slid down the ladder to the entry dock, and there was, well, the form was...generally right? But he'd never encountered one of that breed with fire locked behind their eyes despite the cuffs. "Is she naturally clawed?" he asked one of the handlers.
"That's the weirdest thing, she was wearing normal clothes until we cuffed her, then this..." Full, spiked, animal hide from neck to toe and clawed gloves! Barbarian!
"Someone get a translator chip in her?" That would be kind of important if they wanted her trained...
"Must have in the scut ship..."
Hmmm. He crouched, eying the panting and struggling girl warily, "can you understand me?"
The red head stilled, just that sudden stillness more common in animals on a planet than in people in his experience, it spoke well to muscle control at least? "I'm Cappis. You'll be running with me." He wasn't certain which word did it, but the body language shifted until she was crouching just in front of him, head titled. Hmmm. Maybe she was simple minded? "Stay with me," he laid one hand on her shoulder and nodded people out of the way.
::What now?:: The words felt empty and echoing somehow. They felt like loss and tasted like tears and damned if he didn't need that on his day off. He tapped her head a few times, really, she needed to talk out loud, no reason to tell the arena that she could send around the damn cuffs. "...now?"
"Yeah, now kid," he sighed. "I"ll fill you in on the rules."
"Good luck Cappis!" the handlers laughed.
"...surl them," Rachel snarled.
"Translator chip's working!" he snickered. The cages were awful as ever, but at least he found a clean one. She wouldn't go in alone though, should have seen that coming huh? "I know it's a piss poor place, but at least you don't have to share." Not at her weight class?
::Better than the old ones.:: And just like that he was elsewhere, the hall behind them yawned wider and taller, bulbs dangling ever five feet and high windows had red, electronic eyes scanning past every few moments. The bars grew thicker, harsher, and he was sitting with his face pressed against them, two, leather clad and clawed hands wrapped around the iron by his chin...
...his chin?
Her chin?
He could hear shifting bodies behind him, sleeping his brain provided.
We're on watch.
When he came to he was sitting on the floor of the cage, arms draped over the girl's side as she slept curled against him. What in the cosmos was that even? Did she secrete hallucinogenic toxins?!
WOULDN'T THE HANDLERS HAVE SCANNED FOR THAT?!
What the bloody star systems was he in for? "What are you?" he sighed. Just what...?
"Rachel. They said my name was Rachel." That was said out loud, probably for his benefit.
"Huh, weird name."
"Mine," she growled back.
"Yes, yes, just a comment, get back to sleep you need it." He could feel it in her bones. What the hell had she been doing that they could slap cuffs on her?
"Ending the world," she sighed, sorrow lacing each syllable.
Pardon?
PLANET CRACKING?!
"It needed to die. They said so."
"Who?" He wasn't going to like the answer was he?
No, no he wasn't, because now he was in a camp. There didn't seem to be real words for the people there, they weren't Pack, her pack was dead, but they had known her when she was a child? There were names, but they all had more meaning layered than words really encompassed...
...Logan. A terran male with...natural claws? Somehow? But he was more a pack leader than a friend, he watched her sleep, explained why she wasn't to steal food fro the others to feed the small family they had...
...Ororo. Terran female who could control the weather if she wasn't collared? And fly? And ran interference with the guards in ways he understood but the girl who was sharing hadn't. Space dust, it reminded him of what was left of the company when they'd been swept up in a war and no one would pay for the POWs. That was how they'd ended up sold off, but their company head had tried. Damned but they'd tried. Ororo had tried too.
Katherine. There was so much pain tied up in that one that he jerked him out of the memory with a gasp. It was morning, training time. He shook her shoulder gently and stood, stretching, "hands on with this one?" one of the lower trainers laughed as he passed with the breakfast bucket for his group.
"Mind your own scuts!" he snarled, the girl beside him adding a truly menacing growl. "No. No taking on trainers," he sighed, holding a hand up to block her view. "Even if they're slives."
"Slives," she repeated menacingly.
So what was he suppose to do with a planet cracking kid? Not that he knew exactly how she'd done it but...right. "Weights. We're starting on weights." BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY. Weights and evaluation course, yes. That too all of an hour though, sadly, she was in good shape despite having been in a containment camp prior to the end of her world. She was used to running and hunting, excelled at it, and had an instinctive grasp of tactics.
That was a problem really. He'd been hoping to keep her out of the fight cycles for a few rounds at least so he could figure her out. Rules of the fights barely went a day, and observing the middle weight tiers a day longer...
By the fourth day she was bored and leaning her chin on his knee rather than observing. "Why do they fight?"
"Because their owners said to."
She snorted at that, "oh. Why do you stay?" Was he owned?
He sighed, pulling the edge of his shirt down to show the scar from the implant he got at purchase, "they keep skilled trainers harder than fighters." The speculative look in her eyes was, frankly, creepy as hell. For a change he was grateful that he wouldn't be facing her in the ring...
"Everyone I know wants to be free," she mused softly. "Should I end this too?" It seemed the way to fix things? It didn't matter if everyone left her. If she was suppose to die...as long as the people that mattered were free.
What?! "WHAT?! No, no...gods and deities and fallen arcons no!" Just no. "That's...people who ask that are desperate and...sick. Even if they love you it's not...fair." Fair. Hahahha, fair, from an ex-mercenary to a Hound.
As if they were people.
"Then I fight," she smiled.
She'd fight because he asked her to.
Because he bloody said they'd run together.
Oh Veknnik, he'd declared himself Pack.
Like her Logan.
HOW DID HE GET HIMSELF INTO SOMETHING LIKE THAT?! "You fight," he agreed quietly.
Fight and win, against some crazy magma creature. Biology in the galaxy was incredibly strange at times. Stranger still she hadn't burned in the least, just plunged claws into a molten chest and pulled the thing apart. Terrans were terrifying when harvested from alternate reality zones. "How is she fire proof?!" the arena owner screamed at him that evening.
"I'm not a biologist!" he growled back. "How would I know? Did you want her to die?!" That didn't make any sense!
"You know titan tier, they generally need a heavy injury or two to settle properly," the owner snorted. "And to get conditioning set."
How could he...think that? "How...is that asset control?" What was the point of training if it was the weeks in medical quarantine that got people to behave?!
"Oh no, no, don't mistake me, your job is important to Cappis! Your methods are amazing, it reduces the risk of immediate death in the titans!"
Risk of immediate death. "I see. If that's all?" He needed to go before he did something regrettable. He needed to tell his fighter...
...Rachel...
...that she'd done well.
When had he given up on sleeping in his own room? "If you could be anything, Rachel, what would you want to be?" he sighed, sliding down the cell wall to sit on the floor and pass her dinner.
Rachel blinked, splitting the meager meal in half an passing him his share; no matter how often he told her the meal was hers, she insisted. Damn pack mentality. Some words truly broke their people didn't they? "A person."
Oh zarnom. "Why?"
Rachel tilted her head, considering that, "it's what they...wanted for me. Not for themselves, but they wanted it for me. I'm the only one who can remember that for them."
"...kid, you're going to break my heart." If he had one.
"I do that," she admitted quietly.
Of course she did. He couldn't even get himself out, how could he get a cuffed child out to the greater galaxy ready to eat her alive?! "I'm sorry, Rachel."
"Sorry," she sighed. She knew that one. Everyone was always sorry for things they couldn't control. ::You need out. You're killing yourself.:: The heavy emotions, she'd felt them day to day to day, every moment in her world. Despair broke people and then they did terrible things. It was simple to lean up and kiss his neck, heat slipping along his skin to scream into the chip buried in the muscle.
"OW WHAT THE?!" He slapped a hand to his neck hissing, but oddly the pain faded after an unpleasant moment of screaming synapses.
::Be free Cappis.::
She hadn't used his name at all in the past days, he honestly didn't think she'd known it. ::...just like that?:: he whispered back, hoping she could hear him and that cuffs didn't block reception.
::Just go.:: She pushed him gently out and pulled the cage door shut against his return.
Just go.
Just like that.
He swallowed and turned to walk along the halls, brushing past his own room, and past the social hall for 'trusted' fighters and trainers. He didn't even shiver as he stepped into the betting hall, tensing up could make the implant hurt more but...
...nothing.
There was nothing at his set boundaries. He walked straight through betting to the dining verandas, and beyond those to the docking bay onto a ship without even a shiver through his nerves. Be free. It took a true act of will power to turn back around and walk back the way he'd come, all the way down to the cages once more, ::Rachel, can you come?:: The shift of feral eyes in the cage worried him for a moment, like she'd walled herself away somehow in the brief time he'd been gone.
::...come?::
::The cuffs don't hold you do they?::
Rachel blinked, fingering the metal...::they were afraid and I was dizzy,:: she sighed.
Oh bloody sunsets she'd been pretending. Be still his trembling heart! ::I don't know if I can teach you to be a person. I'm not a good person, I never was, but I can try. If you'll come.::
::Come where?::
::...have you ever heard of pirates?:: he mused. ::We could steal a ship.:: He could pilot, and a lot of types came to the high end arena.
::Is that good?:: she smiled, the floor hissing as liquid metal struck it, dripping off her wrists in a steady rain now.
"It could be, if we make it," he grinned, offering his hand.
When: A few days after Rach arrives in this reality.
What: A hound and an ex-merc meet at a coliseum.
"Hey Cappis! Get your ass over here, you've got alive one for the high tier fights..."
He ran a hand over his face tiredly and glanced through the window at his room. He was a senior training, he got the powerful sorts situated here for entertainment and all that, it earned him a glass walled 'room' instead of the cages below. Still, he didn't appreciate the lack of privacy, especially in down hours. The glamour had worn off years ago, honestly, and it was just bloody minded stubbornness that kept him going now. "Syarnaek!" If there was one thing a merc history was good for it was knowing how to insult people in any language that rammed it home!
The meaty fist that smacked his window certainly wasn't pleased, no, "I said move your carcass or you'll be in the ring next you here? Live one inbound, psion cuffs!"
Huh, suppression cuffs? Been an age since he'd seen those one someone they brought in honestly. If they needed to be cuffed they couldn't be trusted to use their powers only in a fight, and psions without their powers tended to be useless.
"Terran. I think."
"How can you think?" he sneered. "Without your brain attachment." But he was pulling himself off his bunk and stretching. May as well see what the fuss was about. Oh, hey, "you get those stripes from the 'Terran'? You know they don't generally come clawed, right?"
"Surl yourself, Cappis."
Yeah, sure, Terran. He was still laughing to himself as he slid down the ladder to the entry dock, and there was, well, the form was...generally right? But he'd never encountered one of that breed with fire locked behind their eyes despite the cuffs. "Is she naturally clawed?" he asked one of the handlers.
"That's the weirdest thing, she was wearing normal clothes until we cuffed her, then this..." Full, spiked, animal hide from neck to toe and clawed gloves! Barbarian!
"Someone get a translator chip in her?" That would be kind of important if they wanted her trained...
"Must have in the scut ship..."
Hmmm. He crouched, eying the panting and struggling girl warily, "can you understand me?"
The red head stilled, just that sudden stillness more common in animals on a planet than in people in his experience, it spoke well to muscle control at least? "I'm Cappis. You'll be running with me." He wasn't certain which word did it, but the body language shifted until she was crouching just in front of him, head titled. Hmmm. Maybe she was simple minded? "Stay with me," he laid one hand on her shoulder and nodded people out of the way.
::What now?:: The words felt empty and echoing somehow. They felt like loss and tasted like tears and damned if he didn't need that on his day off. He tapped her head a few times, really, she needed to talk out loud, no reason to tell the arena that she could send around the damn cuffs. "...now?"
"Yeah, now kid," he sighed. "I"ll fill you in on the rules."
"Good luck Cappis!" the handlers laughed.
"...surl them," Rachel snarled.
"Translator chip's working!" he snickered. The cages were awful as ever, but at least he found a clean one. She wouldn't go in alone though, should have seen that coming huh? "I know it's a piss poor place, but at least you don't have to share." Not at her weight class?
::Better than the old ones.:: And just like that he was elsewhere, the hall behind them yawned wider and taller, bulbs dangling ever five feet and high windows had red, electronic eyes scanning past every few moments. The bars grew thicker, harsher, and he was sitting with his face pressed against them, two, leather clad and clawed hands wrapped around the iron by his chin...
...his chin?
Her chin?
He could hear shifting bodies behind him, sleeping his brain provided.
We're on watch.
When he came to he was sitting on the floor of the cage, arms draped over the girl's side as she slept curled against him. What in the cosmos was that even? Did she secrete hallucinogenic toxins?!
WOULDN'T THE HANDLERS HAVE SCANNED FOR THAT?!
What the bloody star systems was he in for? "What are you?" he sighed. Just what...?
"Rachel. They said my name was Rachel." That was said out loud, probably for his benefit.
"Huh, weird name."
"Mine," she growled back.
"Yes, yes, just a comment, get back to sleep you need it." He could feel it in her bones. What the hell had she been doing that they could slap cuffs on her?
"Ending the world," she sighed, sorrow lacing each syllable.
Pardon?
PLANET CRACKING?!
"It needed to die. They said so."
"Who?" He wasn't going to like the answer was he?
No, no he wasn't, because now he was in a camp. There didn't seem to be real words for the people there, they weren't Pack, her pack was dead, but they had known her when she was a child? There were names, but they all had more meaning layered than words really encompassed...
...Logan. A terran male with...natural claws? Somehow? But he was more a pack leader than a friend, he watched her sleep, explained why she wasn't to steal food fro the others to feed the small family they had...
...Ororo. Terran female who could control the weather if she wasn't collared? And fly? And ran interference with the guards in ways he understood but the girl who was sharing hadn't. Space dust, it reminded him of what was left of the company when they'd been swept up in a war and no one would pay for the POWs. That was how they'd ended up sold off, but their company head had tried. Damned but they'd tried. Ororo had tried too.
Katherine. There was so much pain tied up in that one that he jerked him out of the memory with a gasp. It was morning, training time. He shook her shoulder gently and stood, stretching, "hands on with this one?" one of the lower trainers laughed as he passed with the breakfast bucket for his group.
"Mind your own scuts!" he snarled, the girl beside him adding a truly menacing growl. "No. No taking on trainers," he sighed, holding a hand up to block her view. "Even if they're slives."
"Slives," she repeated menacingly.
So what was he suppose to do with a planet cracking kid? Not that he knew exactly how she'd done it but...right. "Weights. We're starting on weights." BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY. Weights and evaluation course, yes. That too all of an hour though, sadly, she was in good shape despite having been in a containment camp prior to the end of her world. She was used to running and hunting, excelled at it, and had an instinctive grasp of tactics.
That was a problem really. He'd been hoping to keep her out of the fight cycles for a few rounds at least so he could figure her out. Rules of the fights barely went a day, and observing the middle weight tiers a day longer...
By the fourth day she was bored and leaning her chin on his knee rather than observing. "Why do they fight?"
"Because their owners said to."
She snorted at that, "oh. Why do you stay?" Was he owned?
He sighed, pulling the edge of his shirt down to show the scar from the implant he got at purchase, "they keep skilled trainers harder than fighters." The speculative look in her eyes was, frankly, creepy as hell. For a change he was grateful that he wouldn't be facing her in the ring...
"Everyone I know wants to be free," she mused softly. "Should I end this too?" It seemed the way to fix things? It didn't matter if everyone left her. If she was suppose to die...as long as the people that mattered were free.
What?! "WHAT?! No, no...gods and deities and fallen arcons no!" Just no. "That's...people who ask that are desperate and...sick. Even if they love you it's not...fair." Fair. Hahahha, fair, from an ex-mercenary to a Hound.
As if they were people.
"Then I fight," she smiled.
She'd fight because he asked her to.
Because he bloody said they'd run together.
Oh Veknnik, he'd declared himself Pack.
Like her Logan.
HOW DID HE GET HIMSELF INTO SOMETHING LIKE THAT?! "You fight," he agreed quietly.
Fight and win, against some crazy magma creature. Biology in the galaxy was incredibly strange at times. Stranger still she hadn't burned in the least, just plunged claws into a molten chest and pulled the thing apart. Terrans were terrifying when harvested from alternate reality zones. "How is she fire proof?!" the arena owner screamed at him that evening.
"I'm not a biologist!" he growled back. "How would I know? Did you want her to die?!" That didn't make any sense!
"You know titan tier, they generally need a heavy injury or two to settle properly," the owner snorted. "And to get conditioning set."
How could he...think that? "How...is that asset control?" What was the point of training if it was the weeks in medical quarantine that got people to behave?!
"Oh no, no, don't mistake me, your job is important to Cappis! Your methods are amazing, it reduces the risk of immediate death in the titans!"
Risk of immediate death. "I see. If that's all?" He needed to go before he did something regrettable. He needed to tell his fighter...
...Rachel...
...that she'd done well.
When had he given up on sleeping in his own room? "If you could be anything, Rachel, what would you want to be?" he sighed, sliding down the cell wall to sit on the floor and pass her dinner.
Rachel blinked, splitting the meager meal in half an passing him his share; no matter how often he told her the meal was hers, she insisted. Damn pack mentality. Some words truly broke their people didn't they? "A person."
Oh zarnom. "Why?"
Rachel tilted her head, considering that, "it's what they...wanted for me. Not for themselves, but they wanted it for me. I'm the only one who can remember that for them."
"...kid, you're going to break my heart." If he had one.
"I do that," she admitted quietly.
Of course she did. He couldn't even get himself out, how could he get a cuffed child out to the greater galaxy ready to eat her alive?! "I'm sorry, Rachel."
"Sorry," she sighed. She knew that one. Everyone was always sorry for things they couldn't control. ::You need out. You're killing yourself.:: The heavy emotions, she'd felt them day to day to day, every moment in her world. Despair broke people and then they did terrible things. It was simple to lean up and kiss his neck, heat slipping along his skin to scream into the chip buried in the muscle.
"OW WHAT THE?!" He slapped a hand to his neck hissing, but oddly the pain faded after an unpleasant moment of screaming synapses.
::Be free Cappis.::
She hadn't used his name at all in the past days, he honestly didn't think she'd known it. ::...just like that?:: he whispered back, hoping she could hear him and that cuffs didn't block reception.
::Just go.:: She pushed him gently out and pulled the cage door shut against his return.
Just go.
Just like that.
He swallowed and turned to walk along the halls, brushing past his own room, and past the social hall for 'trusted' fighters and trainers. He didn't even shiver as he stepped into the betting hall, tensing up could make the implant hurt more but...
...nothing.
There was nothing at his set boundaries. He walked straight through betting to the dining verandas, and beyond those to the docking bay onto a ship without even a shiver through his nerves. Be free. It took a true act of will power to turn back around and walk back the way he'd come, all the way down to the cages once more, ::Rachel, can you come?:: The shift of feral eyes in the cage worried him for a moment, like she'd walled herself away somehow in the brief time he'd been gone.
::...come?::
::The cuffs don't hold you do they?::
Rachel blinked, fingering the metal...::they were afraid and I was dizzy,:: she sighed.
Oh bloody sunsets she'd been pretending. Be still his trembling heart! ::I don't know if I can teach you to be a person. I'm not a good person, I never was, but I can try. If you'll come.::
::Come where?::
::...have you ever heard of pirates?:: he mused. ::We could steal a ship.:: He could pilot, and a lot of types came to the high end arena.
::Is that good?:: she smiled, the floor hissing as liquid metal struck it, dripping off her wrists in a steady rain now.
"It could be, if we make it," he grinned, offering his hand.