Call Me Saturday (
wheyoftheadept) wrote in
goneawayworld2020-05-01 01:10 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
Your Friendly Neighborhood Shadowrunner
Who: Saturday… and you?
What: Open prompts
Where: Locations noted in title
When: in the period between the intro and the next big event
Warnings/Notes: Second prompt may lead to discussing disturbing events in Saturday’s past. No sexual assault, but warnings for violence, child abuse, and eldritch horrors.
1. Free Tickets to the Gun Show [location: communal bathrooms]
Saturday looks at herself in the mirror and nods, satisfied. Even Maggie couldn’t argue the rightness of this; these uniforms were hideous, and too long, and she didn’t like them. Therefore…
She picks a thread out of her newly-created sleeveless jumper. It won’t stop unraveling, so she yanks and breaks it. Her former sleeves lie limply on the sink before her as she admires herself. The room is empty (to the best of her knowledge); her dignity is safe. She starts striking poses.
In her defense, those muscles are pretty impressive.
2. Let Sleeping Adepts Lie? [location: gardens]
The gardens aren’t really gardens, except for the patch that Bunny and Gadget have taken over, but they’re green and they’re quiet and it’s easy to avoid people. These qualities are why Saturday is kneeling in a remote corner of them, hands cupped open in her lap the way her father taught her. Holding emptiness. Control is an illusion. Go with the flow.
Keep your distance, and she looks peaceful. Come closer, and you can see her jaw is tight and trembling, and tears are trickling out from under her closed eyes.
3. Come Fly Away (Or Dream You Can) [location: rig exterior]
The rain never actually stops, but sometimes it lessens into a misty drizzle, the kind of thing a true Seattleite scoffs at. Saturday, being one of those, is out on the deck. It’s evening, going on full dark; the western horizon in orange fading into pink, and the sky above is clouded velvet. She’s tied cloth around her hands and feet for grip, and is running the pipes. Her shoes are sitting neatly at the base of a large beam. She has no destination in mind, no particular purpose; she isn’t in the training area because she wants to be outside, unrecorded, unmeasured, moving for the sheer glory of it. It almost feels like freedom.
What: Open prompts
Where: Locations noted in title
When: in the period between the intro and the next big event
Warnings/Notes: Second prompt may lead to discussing disturbing events in Saturday’s past. No sexual assault, but warnings for violence, child abuse, and eldritch horrors.
1. Free Tickets to the Gun Show [location: communal bathrooms]
Saturday looks at herself in the mirror and nods, satisfied. Even Maggie couldn’t argue the rightness of this; these uniforms were hideous, and too long, and she didn’t like them. Therefore…
She picks a thread out of her newly-created sleeveless jumper. It won’t stop unraveling, so she yanks and breaks it. Her former sleeves lie limply on the sink before her as she admires herself. The room is empty (to the best of her knowledge); her dignity is safe. She starts striking poses.
In her defense, those muscles are pretty impressive.
2. Let Sleeping Adepts Lie? [location: gardens]
The gardens aren’t really gardens, except for the patch that Bunny and Gadget have taken over, but they’re green and they’re quiet and it’s easy to avoid people. These qualities are why Saturday is kneeling in a remote corner of them, hands cupped open in her lap the way her father taught her. Holding emptiness. Control is an illusion. Go with the flow.
Keep your distance, and she looks peaceful. Come closer, and you can see her jaw is tight and trembling, and tears are trickling out from under her closed eyes.
3. Come Fly Away (Or Dream You Can) [location: rig exterior]
The rain never actually stops, but sometimes it lessens into a misty drizzle, the kind of thing a true Seattleite scoffs at. Saturday, being one of those, is out on the deck. It’s evening, going on full dark; the western horizon in orange fading into pink, and the sky above is clouded velvet. She’s tied cloth around her hands and feet for grip, and is running the pipes. Her shoes are sitting neatly at the base of a large beam. She has no destination in mind, no particular purpose; she isn’t in the training area because she wants to be outside, unrecorded, unmeasured, moving for the sheer glory of it. It almost feels like freedom.
Re: 1
She gathers the sleeves up and offers them to Catra. "You can shred 'em, if you like. Figured I'd use them for grip." She mimes wrapping something around her hands, by way of explanation.
Re: 1
"Yeah, I don't like them either. Maybe I'll do the same thing," she says, clearly pondering the idea. "But who knows what counts as breaking the rules around here--I haven't got that figured out yet, which is really getting on my nerves. You know, aside from trying to break stuff."
Re: 1
Re: 1
"We... Well, I don't hate her. I don't really know how she feels about me still. It's weird. Tense. It makes me wish I could go back to having her mad at me. At least I know what to expect then."
Re: 1
She pats Catra on the shoulder briefly. "At least you ain't gotta worry about a stab in the back."
Re: 1
"Please. Adora would never stab someone in the back. She'd run up all 'ARRGH I'M GONNA FIGHT YOU!' She's not sneaky at all." She offers the shredded strips of jumpsuit back.
"Here. Hope you make some Jorgmund jerk mad."
Re: 1
"I can appreciate that, honestly. Been way too many skulking, sneaky, plotty bastards in my life, lately. As long as you can trust each other in the field, the rest can wait til you get home, yeah?"
Re: 1
"And yeah. That's the important part. Not sure I trust anyone here, though," Catra admits, leaning up against the door frame with a scowl.
Re: 1
Saturday takes the moment to wash her face a little. "Be interesting to see how things shake out."
Re: 1
"Yeah, we'll have to wait and see. I guess. I don't like waiting and seeing."
Re: 1
"It's a pain," she agrees. "But it's good discipline. You ever learn meditation?"
Re: 1
"Nope. Sounds stupid."
Re: 1
She knows, of course. They always say that. And part of the whole process is making them think through what they say, and why.
Re: 1
"And it seems like a waste of time."
Re: 1
She stretches and starts walking out of the bathroom, assuming Catra will follow, since a bathroom is an odd place to have a chat when you get right down to it. "My pops used to say, meditation is how you get control over yourself. And you gotta have control, or someone's gonna take it from you."
Re: 1
"Sure, sounds good. Nice, easy words."
Re: 1
Saturday needs to find time to do that for herself, in fact. This place, the people in it, they keep stirring waters that had barely settled. She's all mud and debris right now.
"Control is about letting go, not holding on. Letting go is easy."
Re: 1
"It sounds really nice and easy when you talk about it, but..." She shrugs. "Most of the time people who say that something like that is easy are lying, either to you or themselves. Or both."
Re: 1
Saturday slouches up across from her. "What you did the other night, talking to Adora - that was a kind of letting go. You let go of the reasons you were holding on to for why you couldn't just say what you feel. It was scary to start, but once you did, was it as really as bad as you thought it would be?"
no subject
"Don't give me this crap."
no subject
She shrugs. "We can talk about something else, if you like."
no subject
"Just stop trying to make me your little project. I don't need you or anyone else to fix me."
no subject
God, Catra really is a piece of home in all this horror - cat ears and portal nonsense aside. Wanna-be hardasses and vulnerable kids are the same across metaplanes, it seems.
no subject
"Well stop suggesting crap. Last time I had someone this concerned with how I was acting and whatever her name was Shadow Weaver. Stop acting like I need your help. I don't need you or your stupid suggestions or anybody else's!"
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)