goneawayworld | Being Alone

Entry tags:

Being Alone

Who: South and anyone who encounters her
What: South trying to avoid everyone and her problems at once, and failing
Where: Various places on the Rig
When: Several days after South and York's arrivals
Warnings/Notes: None up front

South’s not really used to being alone, not really. Growing up with a twin you can’t shake for trying does that to a person, she supposes. As much as she resents it, resents him, it’s… a difficult adjustment, to make, one made infinitely harder by her lack of anywhere else to turn.

Turns out pissing off everyone you know from home is a poor choice, who’d’ve thunk it, huh?

Dealing with things in a healthy manner isn’t one of South’s strong suits, so rather than doing so she decides the best course of action is to simply avoid anywhere she might encounter her brother or get into another fight with Washington (he’s more than capable of handing her ass to her on a silver platter and she’s getting tired of it, if she’s honest) or have to deal with York (who’s just a pain in the ass, really).

For days, rather than get involved in anything festive or going out of her way to get to know the other New Hires, South spends her time in a few places:

a) On the Top Deck, which she finds supremely uncomfortable thanks to the daytime heat, but it also means most people won’t appear to bother her, so she considers it a fair trade. Sat near the edge, she sits and watches the fucked-up world outside and finds that it is possible to miss home, even when home sucks too.

Of course, it’s not a fool proof plan. When someone does come by and join her, she sighs to herself, but comments, “Weird fucking view, huh?”

b) In the Training Area, where she spends all of her time whaling on punching bags, lifting weights, running, or beating up training droids violently enough to break a couple. She could request her equipment but she’s not training to train, she’s there to exert restless energy and rage without directing it at the poor fucks around her. Easier to focus on the feeling of punching something than on your emotional turmoil!

The sound of someone coming up behind her makes her pivot, fist raised— but she holds back and huffs, instead, rolling her shoulders as her arm falls. “Watch it. Unless you wanna get hit, stay the fuck back.”

c) She wanders the gardens, the once, because even South sometimes needs somewhere relatively quiet to go. She’s not looking for anyone; quite the opposite, really, she just wants to get away from everything else for a while.

Unfortunately for her, she’s not the only one. Fortunately for whoever else she encounters, she’s at her least combative down here and simply says, “Kinda nice in here. Don’t remember the last time I saw so many fuckin’ plants.”

d) The Mess, is one of the few times she can’t get around communing with the group, but even during their shifts there the she tries her best to keep to herself by sitting as close to alone as she physically can. Perched at the ends of tables, not looking anyone in the eye, but occasionally glancing up at the sound of familiar voices before setting her gaze firmly back on her plate.

When someone sits nearby, she rolls her eyes and swallows her mouthful of food. “There’s other open seats, y’know.”

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She could try and order him to, but she couldn't actually shut him down herself. So she can only grumble and keep eating her food as York talks to Delta as if she isn't there. It's not as if she even wants York to talk to her, but this is just... insulting.

"Agent South has talked to various individuals, however those are not names that I recognise."

South groans. "Can you at least not tell him shit about what I've been doing? Chat all you fucking want but if you're leaving me out of it, leave me out of it."

"As Agent South has failed to call on me or acknowledge my presence at any point, I believe most here are still unaware of my existence."

"Fucking christ..."

York shakes his head, as if he cannot even fathom ignoring someone who's right in front of you. Or in South's case, around your neck.

"That's so disrespectful. You might have to start initiating conversations yourself so people know you're there."

He takes a bite of his dinner, grimaces slightly, and reaches for his water to wash it down. And he supposes he'll stop torturing South for now and switch topics -- he's used to Delta being in his head and knowing everything he experiences, so he might as well keep it up now.

"The food here's horrible, you know. Almost as bad as rations. You remember those, when we were first on our own? Blech."

For a second, South thinks he's suddenly doing small talk with her... before he finishes the sentence and she realises he's still talking to Delta. The AI. About the food. Okay, sure. Why the fuck not.

Delta nods. "I remember. Whilst we will not be able to acquire better meals through traditional means here, I have been listening to our surroundings. It may be possible to earn favour with the culinary staff and access the facilities, better or more frequent food."

South squints at him at that. She keeps forgetting he can listen in around them and that his sensors are better than her ears alone, even without her suit. The shit he's heard being stuck with her... so many arguments.

He talks to Delta about everything, South. Usually without thinking about it, because he and D willingly share their thoughts on a level they didn't at the beginning, now. Or did. It's a large part of how Delta developed his own personality.

"Really? I can turn up the charm, in that case. It's not rations-bad like I'm lamenting our not having private bathrooms or anything--"

See? Everything.

"--but better would be nice. I didn't think earning favor with the native staff would be possible. You overheard any prime candidates?"

York and Delta continue to chat about the staff they've met, which is information that might benefit South as well but feels like their normal information exchanges enough that York doesn't mind if she benefits from it too in this case.

South does listen and file it away for reference, since she doubts she'll ever get that information out of Delta another time. Not that she thinks she'll get to make use of it any time soon, trying to play friendly to the staff isn't high on her list of priorities when in the mood she's been in.

The food's mediocre but tolerable. No worse than what she and North were dealing with most days. Though thinking about that just makes me think about the times when it wasn't so bad, when they spent a little more of what money they had for something nicer and— nope, not going down that thought track. No thinking about North when she's already dealing with York.

"...as far as I have been able to tell, the same principle may apply to low-level staff in numerous areas," Delta says, as they talk. "It would be wise to be kind to those who have done nothing to indicate negative feelings towards New Hires, such connections may prove useful. Of course, it is also simply the polite thing to do."

Is that a dig at South? She feels like it's a dig at her.

"You know me, buddy. I'm friendly with everyone until they piss me off. Sometimes even after that when they don't deserve it."

Is that about South too? It's hard to tell.

South rolls her eyes. "You two talk too much. Anyone ever tell you that?"

She knows she's going to get ignored but she can't just sit there and take it silently, so she comments anyway.

"I understand you have rekindled your friendships with Agent Washington and Agent North. That must be of great relief." It's something he's glad to know, too, because it means that York is not alone. Being apart from York has been strange for Delta, too, after all; he had become accustomed to the companionship and the ability to look out for York. With South, he has neither.

South visibly tenses, but keeps her mouth shut this time.

"I have, yeah. Wash has been through a lot so it's good to get to be there for him now, after we had to leave him behind. And you know how much I missed North."

York hesitates, because he doesn't want to say anything else in front of South, but there's no choice and Delta deserves to know. He lowers his voice a little, as if it were possible to speak low enough that Delta could hear and South couldn't.

"It didn't hurt like not having you does, though. I can feel you missing."

South aggressively stuffs her face with food to avoid listening to the reminders that she's the odd one out, here. That no one was relieved to see her, not even really her own twin. What Wash said to her has been stuck in her head against her will ever since—there's no one left who cares if she lives or dies.

She keeps trying to tell herself she doesn't care. It's getting harder by the day.

Delta was already projecting almost as close to York as he can from the puck, but he stretches the limit a little further. His hologram flickers slightly, but he's able to hover closer to York.

"Our integration was highly successful. It is not surprising that the nature of our separation has caused such a sensation." He sounds worried, as worried as Delta is capable of sounding with voice alone. To South it sounds sterile, flat, but York knows Delta better than she does. "It is possible that you will become accustomed to it and the sensation will fade over time, however that is not the outcome I believe either of us would prefer."

He wants to go back. He wants that sensation to leave York not because he's become used to it, but because Delta had returned to his rightful place.

South snorts quietly and keeps eating her food.

The irony of it is, if she just admitted how bad she feels about North, any guilt over Wash, or handed Delta over? York would be dramatically warmer. He'd give her a chance to be better, everyone deserves that. But not for nothing.

Right now, he would tell South to stick her snort directly up her ass, but that would be acknowledging her and they're not doing that today. Instead he smiles at the hologram, trying to ease the concern there. He can hack it, he didn't mean to make Delta worry about him.

"I know, bud. I know." He breathes out, reaching for some levity again. "The library here has books from a bunch of different worlds, did you know that?"

They continue chatting about things that must (and hopefully) seem boring and mundane to South -- books he's reading with Theta, his workouts, the weather up top of the rig -- but in truth is also York filling D in on what he's been missing so he feels more confident that his human companion is doing okay. Eventually both York and South are done eating, but when she gets up to clear her tray he does too.

This is a harassment campaign, after all. He can't just let her leave when she feels like it.

South slams her tray against the table with a clatter. "Are you fucking kidding me with this shit, York?!"

Her patience has never been particularly thick and it's thinner than usual, these days. The constant chatter wore it right down and she'd hoped, at least, that she'd be able to get up and walk away, but oh no. He's following her, apparently.

"You've been talking this entire fucking time! You've told him basically everything you could fucking tell him, hell I'm surprised you haven't told him how many times you've been to the fucking toilet. Fuck. Off."

Delta, meanwhile, just continues whatever he was saying to York before her outburst. Which if anything makes South want to scream more, but she doesn't actually want to draw more attention to them than she already has so she bites her tongue. Literally.

York's expression doesn't falter, but he's pleased his plan seems to have gotten a rise out of her. She's irritated, that's for sure. Enough that he'll acknowledge her, now.

"Hold that thought, D." His gaze shifts from the hologram to South, his smile relaxed. "Hey, South. How was your dinner? If you need the toilet I'm happy to hold Delta for you. Or you could just hand him over like I fucking kicked your ass for once already. I don't feel like doing that again, so. I figured you wouldn't mind if I just hung out with you guys instead."

He pauses for dramatic effect.

"Indefinitely."

South grits her teeth so hard it's almost audible.

"...I fucking hate you," she hisses. Saying anything else feels like walking into a trap, but she can't just say nothing, either. "Whatever game you're playing? It's not gonna work."

She can guess what he's saying, what the 'game' is. She knows it's going to drive her mad, but she figures if she could survive months with North and Theta she can hold out a while here, too. Maybe.

Oh it won't, huh? York tilts his head to the side, studying her -- it sure looks like it's working just how he wants. And he can be patient. He shifts his attention back to Delta, now directly talking about South but as if she's not there.

"Do you think she actually wants people to hate her? It doesn't have to be like that. Or is it just that it's so much easier to be a bitch?"

Edited 2021-01-10 03:53 (UTC)

"I believe that it may be a combination. Perhaps she finds it easier to be hated."

South makes a frustrated noise and snatches her tray back up, refusing to look at York even though she knows he'll be following her.

She doesn't need this, not on top of everything else, but she can't back down. She can't let him win. Why? Don't ask her that. She just can't.

Indeed, York strolls after her, still talking to Delta.

"I wonder if she feels any regret at all. That's all it would take for me, you know? The first step to being a better person is admitting you fucked up, but she just won't do that. Won't show an ounce of kindness either... it must be exhausting being the bad guy all the time. You've gotta wonder, what's the point?"

First Wash, now York. Regret, being better, all that shit.

Admitting regret is admitting vulnerability. Admitting regret makes everyone else right. Admitting regret means confronting the fact she doesn’t know how to exist without North even though she wants nothing more than to have her own life.

Admitting regret means unravelling a mess of emotions she’s not ready to unravel and so she wraps it all up in anger, instead.

She puts her tray away and keeps walking. She doesn’t know where she’s going.

“I am unsure. She spends much of her time alone. I thought most humans preferred to have company. Perhaps she is an outlier.”

"Unlikely. Humans are extremely social, we need connections. And there's nothing wrong with that; so many people think that being a lone wolf is independence but it's not. You can still be who you are and have important relationships. Defining ones. I wonder if the Project is to blame for that, too, at least a little. They pitted us against each other on purpose, stripped us of our identities. It's inhuman to want to be alone, to push everybody away all the time."

He's not trying to get a rise out of her this time -- he's genuinely talking to Delta now, in the vaguely philosophical way they often do. It's just what makes you human to think about this stuff, in York's opinion.

South’s fists flex. She wants to snap at him that he should try growing up in a shadow you can’t escape, or being labelled as the problem child that no one wants to be friends with, that maybe then he’d understand it’s not so inhuman to be alone, to push people away—but the thing is she doesn’t want to be alone. She just doesn’t know how else to be. And the Project didn’t help.

Everyone always leaves eventually. Better to cut the ties herself before they can do it for her.

Delta listens to York with a familiar focus, nodding his little holographic head. “It sounds, then, as if such isolation is unhealthy. That the Project would attempt to cause such damaging behaviour seems unwise, however there were indeed logs that suggest it was deliberate; particularly in the case of the Dakotas.”

South visibly bristles.

York starts to reply before he's fully processed Delta's entire statement.

"We know it was part of the desi-- wait, really? You never mentioned them specifically."

His eye does flick over to South, then, in time to see her bristle. And now the conversation is less philosophical. He asks his next question carefully.

"Delta, what did they do?"

“They made the Dakotas the subjects of a psychological experiment to observe the effects of giving one twin an AI, whilst the other was denied.”

South stops. Just dead stops in the middle of the hall.

“Said experiment seemed to have extended somewhat beyond its original remit. It was likely the driving force behind many of their decisions regarding the Dakotas.”

South’s fists clench tight and her shoulders shake, just barely. Almost imperceptibly.

“What.”

York stops too, covering his mouth with a hand because. Shit.

"...South, I didn't know."

Edited 2021-01-10 05:13 (UTC)

For once, South tries to reign in the rage rising inside her, because she knows if she doesn’t, then she won’t be able to control it.

It takes her a full thirty seconds to breathe in and lift her head. The look in her eyes is dark and there’s a hint of something else behind the anger, something raw. “They what?”

“It was one of multiple experiments run on the agents themselves.”

South glares at him. “That’s not what I asked.”

“You were the subject of an experiment, Agent South. Your brother was chosen to receive an AI whilst you would not. It is likely that many of their decisions were affected by this arrangement.”

South pivots and slams her fist against the wall without so much as a shout.

The new information is... a lot. York is tense as Delta repeats himself, worried what South is going to do, but luckily she doesn't take it out on D's puck. She punches the wall instead, which isn't ideal but. She could have smashed him, or punched York. He finds himself actually worrying if she's hurt herself, but knows better than to ask if she's okay. She's not okay. Who would be?

He wonders just how deep the rabbit hole goes. Was the leaderboard rigged for South to lag so far behind? What other choices were made 'in regard to the Dakotas'? York knows better than to ask Delta to elucidate in front of her. If she wants to ask herself that's another matter.

"D, I think that's enough for now."

Her fist and arm throb with pain.

All the same questions are running around South’s head, stirring up old feelings and suspicions and— it’s confirmation of something South had always wondered, though never in such terms.

She wasn’t going mad. They were favouring North. That whole time they were—

She hits the wall again and hisses through her teeth, holding her hand in the other after.

Delta moves his projection away from her as far as he can. He doesn’t need to, of course, York’s right that if anything was at risk it’d be his puck, but he does so anyway. He doesn’t say a word.

Being Alone

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