Agent South Dakota (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ownperson) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
goneawayworld2020-12-29 01:59 am
ownperson) wrote in goneawayworld2020-12-29 01:59 am
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.”
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.”
no subject
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.
no subject
"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?"
no subject
“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.”
no subject
"...South, I didn't know."
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
"You're going to break your hand, let me see."
For what it's worth, he sounds genuinely concerned. He hadn't meant for the conversation to progress past calling her out on her shit. This is different.
no subject
South’s instinct is to recoil, to pull away and tell him to fuck off, but hearing him sound actually concerned throws her off enough that she finds herself... actually letting him look at her hand.
Fuck, it hurts. Usually North stops her from repeating hits like that. Usually it pisses her off when he does.
no subject
"Does this--" she hisses when he prods at the back of her hand and he cuts himself off and nods once. "Sorry. I think you fractured something, let's get you to the infirmary."
no subject
“Fuck,” she hisses, half at the pain half at the fact she hates that he’s right. Another goddamn trip to medical.
Despite the way she tenses at the word infirmary, however, she doesn’t actually protest. One part knowing she needs her hand functional, one part... a sort of numbness.
Still, she gives a token, grumbled, “For the record, I fucking hate this.”
no subject
York does feel bad about this. But at least he has a good bedside manner? He gestures for her to give him her other arm, and sets the presumably broken hand so that it's are resting on her forearm and won't have to be straightened out again when the swelling is inevitably worse.
"That'll make it easier, hold it there." And then he's leading her to the infirmary to make sure she's taken care of. After that... this was enough for one day. He won't follow her wherever she goes next.