And look at me, I'm tattered

[buildingitsir]

WHO: York & Open
WHERE: York's Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations event
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: CW/TW: York's room has the potential to bring up the following situations: gaslighting/manipulation, abuse, gun violence, death, and assault. The items are labeled with warnings.

Waiting Room Post
Mingle Post

Calibrations Room

The room is a workshop that has seen better days. Once a sterile, almost hospital like room, with a black, pleather covered chair for android repairs. Now, the room is ripped apart. Cables and wires have been ripped apart or unplugged from exposed panels, electricity sparking from live ends. The chair is broken in numerous pieces and thrown about the room, covered in oil, grease, and blue blood. There's broken parts, both mechanical and biocomponents, littered about. On the walls in that same blue blood is "I AM ALIVE" painted by hand in a large, bold, Helvetica font. The floor is wet. Shell casings glint in the light from above.


On the floor are items: a black NYC hoodie that smells earthy; a fireman's hatchet caked in blue and red blood [cw: gun violence, death]; a news tablet with a line about robotic parenting [cw: gaslighting, abuse]; and a pamphlet of Bryant Park’s 191st anniversary ripped midway [cw: assault, physical violence against human and android].

Around the items are some wires that haven't been destroyed, and all of them lead into the back of an older looking and taller York, who is curled up on the floor surrounded by the objects. There’s thirium covering his hands. The wires weave around the items, but don't touch them. He is shirtless, with his knees drawn up to his chin to hide himself. He wears black sweatpants as his only clothing.

The whole room feels isolated, full of fear, and strangely enough: it feels too small.

Upon seeing another enter his mind, York is immediately aggressive. "What are you doing in here?! Ģ̡͝E̸̵T̴̢͠ ̶̴̸O̴̧UT̴́͟!̸̨!̴͘" York gets to his feet - his LED is swirling red, throwing light against the open section of his chest next to it where his thirium pump beats. The android moves quick, as though to try getting to the intruder, but the wires seem to reel in, snap taut, and pull him back towards the wall he’s written on. It’s then apparent that York is too big for the room, with his hair almost brushing the ceiling. There's no hiding the fear in his expression as he struggles for freedom the cables aren’t giving. Realizing the vulnerable state, York relaxes and turns away from his intruder, with those tight wires loosening around him. It shows the wires going into the open panels of his back now, hooking somewhere deep within the machinery that moves and gives him life. York wraps his arms around his chest, ducking his head down. His open interior section pulses blue like a heartbeat.

"I̸͠ţ's̶̡ ņ̀̕o̸̶t̸̡ s͘͝u͡p̷p҉ós͏̕͘ed͘ ͟͞t̨̨o ̨͜h̵̸̛u̶͞͞r͜t́́," he whispers angrily, though the room is small enough that the other would be able to hear it anyways. "D̕͜͡ò̷n̨̡'ţ̕ ̡h͜u͢ŗ͜t̢͠͞ ̴͝me̢͟"

_{[I'll be using a different set of icons for the older version of York in replies, but that face doesn't apply outside of the calibration room. ~Xi]}

Comments

[kree_soldieress]

When she arrives, she's almost hunched over. This room is far too short for Lauri-Ell, and it's uncomfortable. Even more uncomfortable for how he starts shouting, starts whispering angrily. This was intense.

"I did not choose to come here," she tells him, trying to stay still.

[scienceofthearcane]

Outside of this room, Viktor is a beanpole of a man. Now his height worked against him and had him kneeling. When York got aggressive, Viktor flinched back in alarm, a sound like a heavy stone being dropped when he placed his hand on the wall.

Then, he was distracted by the cables and wires that plugged into York's chest. Enough that it took a solid minute for Viktor to realize that York had spoken in that miserably broken voice.

"I don't want to hurt you?"

[in_extremis]

The burning plastic smell was familiar, the cabling, the grease, a cocktail that should have been reassuring, like Tony knew this environment and knew how to work within it. Instead, it felt oppressive, making Tony start to raise a hand to his mouth, then give an ineffective wave to dispel the scent, eyes darting and taking in a crime scene. This was the kind of place nobody wanted to be, least of all the person that it belonged to. They saw each other at the same time, and Tony was slower to react, still searching, eyes narrowed intently, only to widen with shock as he rocked half a step back with his arm raised across his chest defensively at the figure's outburst.

His arm lowered slowly as it became clear that the man wasn't going very far, and Tony studied him with the same sharp, blue intent that he had the room, watching the way his skin shifted with his movement, and the wires, then trying to trace their source. Was this whole display a defence mechanism for someone? The whispering made it a pretty miserably ineffective one.

"Bit much," Tony observed. Consciously relaxed now, one hand casually in his pocket and sauntering closer, eyes still darting, he continued, "Honestly, if you want my advice, you lead with just these." He swept down, collecting one of the casings, bringing it up to where it could lift it to the light and consider it pinched in his blue-smeared fingers, trying to source it. "Let it build, keep them on edge--" He cut off with a sharp intake of breath that he held, eyes on the cowering man again for him to do the same. Waiting, until he did. "Let the explosion feel like relief."

[doubled_speed]

Well, this was cozy, wasn't it? Tommy did not approve.

"Hey, dude, why the fuck is this space so fucking small?"

Is he annoyed? Yes, very much. Being forced to crouch over in a situation like this, when he's already small, is frustrating.

"Your room is horrid."