revivalproject | 08 | It must be getting early; Clocks are running late

Entry tags:

08 | It must be getting early; Clocks are running late

WHO: the Soldier (

sinistral) and you
WHERE: various Temba locations
WHAT: while everyone hunkered down in the warrens, the Soldier was sent elsewhere; now it's time to come back
WHEN: a few days after the general population emerges from the underground
WARNINGS: none; will update if that changes

TEMBA
→ Excavation: for Billy Kaplan;

The first thing the Soldier did on waking in Temba, sore and tired and with the familiarly, infuriatingly vague idea that he'd been elsewhere, was to check to make sure he was intact, or near enough to it. But the first thing after that was to make his way through ruined streets to the building Billy and his brother claimed as their home. The sight that met his eyes made something twist and drop out of the bottom of his stomach, a sensation he immediately tried to ignore. It, and the implied emotion, were unneeded.

"Billy?" he called out, circling toward the wall that seemed most intact. The ceiling was a complete loss, but he couldn't tell from this angle how much damage the structure had absorbed, and how much it had caved. He couldn't tell either if Billy or his brother was around; he resolved to find out. "Tommy?"

→ Exploration: open to all;

The Soldier hadn't been one to rely heavily on the amenities of the community. He generally preferred to forage, and to repurpose things he found in so doing. Years of living on the run with few resources prepared him pretty well for losing the bulk of his supplies when the volcanic activity apparently swept through the towns. But years of living on the run also had him hiding small caches of supplies here and there in ruined buildings. If he was lucky maybe one or two of his stashes hadn't been completely destroyed.

(He never had that kind of good luck but it was a nice thought.)

The weather seemed like it would hold at least, making it a decent day for exploring the rubble of ruined buildings. Maybe he'd luck into finding something useful. Or maybe he'd just end up doing the heavy lifting for someone who needed it. At the very least the sounds from the building in front of him didn't seem like the predatory animals he'd seen on Temba's outskirts. Still, a hand strayed close to the knife at his hip, just in case.

→ Examination: network text to Cal Kestis;

I could use a mechanic. If you've the time.

→ Explanation: network text open to all;

Anyone know if this was a planned redecorating, or is apocalypse chic just in now and I missed the memo?

→ Wildcard;

Open to other ideas. Please reach out to me at

sometimesamuse or via PM for plotting needs. As always while I write starters in prose I'm happy to match brackets if that's your preference.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

See you soon.

[As much as the place lost most sense of its previous endeavor to become a Jedi temple, Cal still found himself drawn back to it now and then. He'd been glad that it had been spared any more damage, and while he waited for the Soldier, he stepped over to sit at the steps leading up to the old museum.

BD-1 as usual is not far from him, inspecting stones and watching curiously as ash followed him in his wake whenever he picked up the pace.]

[It didn't take long at all for the Soldier to make his way over to the maybe-museum, maybe-Jedi-temple. He'd never really visited when the place had been more in use, though he'd been aware of it. Perhaps he should have — if nothing else, to train against fighters as physically capable as he.

Still, he pushed those thoughts from his mind now; time couldn't be reversed and actions taken back. Dwelling on it served no purpose, and he had a current purpose to occupy him.

He stopped near BD-1 first, offering the droid a piece of glassed stone he'd picked up on the way over. Whether from the volcano directly or a melting of material already in Temba, the Soldier couldn't tell. But it had an interesting shape and a strangely smooth feel, so he'd pocketed it.]

Hey. [He looked up at Cal with an expression that was almost a smile.] Appreciate this.

[The little droid hooted a cheery greeting in recognition of the other, antenna at either side of his head perking at the offering as he bounced closer. Leaning back to counterbalance himself, he carefully plucked the smooth piece from the Soldier's hand between the clamps making up a foot.

Cal gives the man a wave as he looks up from where he sits, a corner of his lips quirking in a faint smile. Text was one thing, but it was always good to have visual confirmation, and words didn't let on one's status. The Soldier looked well, possible arm trouble aside.]

Always glad to lend a hand. So, what've we got?

[Maybe the little droid would find something interesting in the analysis of the trinket. Or maybe not. Either way it was now in more analytically capable hands — or foot clamps, in this case.

He returned the smile with a quirk of his own lips, coming to stand close and yes, giving Cal a once-over too. It hadn't been so long since he'd been injured, after all.]

You don't have to say yes. It's catching funny, back of the bicep near the joint. I can't get at it to see if there's damage.

[And there are very few people who he would ask for help.]

[Even if it wasn't anything significant, BD-1 still liked having little things to add to the small set of shelves on the wall of the workshop's backroom. He'd set the rock down to scan as was his habit.]

But I won't say no.

[Having gotten to know the man little by little, that he was being asked this much is no small thing. Cal was glad to know that they've established this sort of trust. Some gave it easier than others, and the Jedi could only imagine what the man had been through. He looked at the arm before holding a hand out as he shifted closer.]

All right, let's see what the trouble might be.

[Maybe three rock could give them information about the volcano. Or maybe scanning would discover nothing new and it would become just another bauble.]

But you could.

[The Soldier wasn't entitled to the assistance; asking didn't lead to automatic acceptance. But having made it to this point was huge in trust. He shed his jacket after a moment; the shirt underneath had more sleeve removed than the outer garment, exposing metal up the shoulder and partway down the chest and back. It felt deeply exposing to show that much, to know how eyes could extrapolate from the visible bits to complete the picture.

He tried to push it from his mind as he deliberately moved the arm to demonstrate the sliding of the plates. Action rippled along the limb and up the bicep to the offending plate, where it stuck with the grinding sensation of metal on metal. There was visible damage, an impact like that of a high powered projectile.]

[Cal waited, glancing idly at BD-1 who was still playing around with the rock, if only to try and ease any sort of attention from the Soldier as he started peeling off the extra layer.

He looked back as he saw the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye, head tilting as he studied the intricate way that the metal behaved in how it was set. This was the first time he'd gotten a real good look at it, and it was an impressive piece of work.

Cal's brow furrowed as he leaned in a little to get a closer look at where the plates were obviously not behaving as they should.]

Huh. Did something happen recently, or is this an old problem that's just gotten worse?

[It was an impressive piece of engineering, for all that his relationship with the hardware was complicated. It was why he never showed off the rest of it if he could help it, why he hadn't removed the shirt. Too many uncomfortable questions wrote themselves across the scars where skin met metal.

At least he could trust Cal.]

It's recent. It wasn't like this before I was taken this latest time. [He shook his head, bothered by the damage himself. How close had the shot been fired, if indeed it was a bullet?] I've used the hand to deflect bullets at close range, with no damage. I'm usually pretty durable.

Edited 2023-09-11 02:50 (UTC)

[Cal had enough of his own scars and experiences to know when not to ask questions. He may not have minded answering them now, but he knew that there was a time when he would have, and that it hadn't really been all that long ago.]

Must've just been a lucky shot. Trajectory, speed, the impact compounded with whatever movements you might've been making at the time. It's nothing vital to the operation of the rest of your arm, but I can see how it'd be annoying to bear, and it might eventually cause some damage to the surrounding plating with how it's running against things.

[He lifted his hands towards the arm, head tilting in silent question. May I?]

Or maybe not a bullet at all. I don't know where they sent me, just have the sense that I was deployed.

[Wasn't the first time, probably wasn't the last. Other times he'd come back physically injured — never too badly — but the arm damage was a first.]

Can't exactly get spare parts out here. Or maintenance.

[He repressed a shudder at that; HYDRA'S idea of maintaining their asset was not gentle or compassionate. But Cal wasn't HYDRA, and the Soldier trusted him. He just had to keep reminding himself. Cal asked for permission. Cal wouldn't abuse the vulnerability.]

You can touch.

That's...concerning. Do they do that often..?

[The Soldier's a hard man to keep track of, so Cal's never entirely sure that his comings and goings are simply from being evasive.]

What type of metal is this?

[It's not like anything he's seen before, and he feels like he's got a good familiarity with metals. There's something different to this one that he can sense now that he's looking right at it.

But at the man's permission, Cal carefully brings his gloved left hand to hold beneath the area of the arm in question to support it while he brought his right hand, fingers hesitating over the offending bit of metal before lightly settling to get a feel for how solid the piece was, where it connected and how, and how loose it might be.

At least, that's his intention. When it comes to the Force, his is a rare ability, and unfortunately not one that waits for permission, especially when memories run strong and deep.]

It's not the first time, and I wouldn't call it a rarity. How often it happens to others I can't say. But for me it seems pretty regular.

[Though truly, how many people would notice when or if the Soldier disappeared? Very few, and fewer would actually care.

Cal asks the hard questions, and the Soldier isn't sure how he'll be judged on the answers. The installation of the arm hadn't exactly been a consensual thing.]

I don't know. A steel alloy maybe. It's built to withstand a lot of punishment.

[A lot of punishment it's been through, and a lot of punishment inflicted on its bearer. Perhaps it's the examination that triggers Cal's senses. Perhaps it's simply the touch. Perhaps it's the fact that the Soldier's own memories have been wiped enough times that there's not a lot of interfering noise to cushion the echoes. But Cal might sense the time in DC, where Pierce emotionlessly told the handlers to wipe the Soldier after he'd been damaged, might sense the memory of the machine descending to pump electricity straight into his brain. Or maybe he'd sense times before that the arm was damaged and required repair, the way the Soldier was strapped to an exam chair or table while pieces were pulled off and replaced, the arm rebuilt after its worst damage. Maybe he'd even sense the first surgeries, the installation of the metal to replace the limb he'd lost in the fall, the drugs that kept him under enough for the operation but not enough to not feel it.

Then again, maybe he'd sense instead the missions, the way the Soldier was deployed. Maybe he'd sense the command codes and how they wiped away all sense of autonomy, made the Soldier into the perfectly obedient weapon. Maybe they'd sense how that weapon was used, the death count at his hands. The assassinations, the kill count ticking higher and higher. Maybe he'd sense the way the Soldier was put into cryo when he wasn't needed, cleaned and stored like any other weapon to wait for the day it was needed again.

Maybe he'd sense all of that, and more. Or maybe he'd sense nothing at all.]

[In an instant, Cal recognized that feeling, a second too late, and all he could think was 'Oh no' before the world around him vanished as he was sucked inward.

Physically he went nowhere except rigid, a sharp gasp caught in his throat as he stared blankly, at nothing and everything. It was a small blessing that he was seated.

Behind them, BD-1 had abruptly abandoned the rock upon hearing his Jedi's reaction, beeping in alarm as he skittered over.

Mentally... Cal was everywhere. He was the one held back or strapped down, shocked and tormented, in pain and delivering it. His was the hand that pulled the trigger, that drew a knife. The darkness and the chill, the bouts of blankness, being shouted at, being feared-

He felt like he was being pulled taught and in every direction, the overlap of so many imbedded memories both blessing and curse, too much to really keep track of but more than he'd ever had to process from a single person. And while it seemed endless, in truth he only blanked out for seconds although even then, BD-1 felt that was far too long.

And then all at once, Cal began to slump in a faint, prompting BD's alarm anew.]

[The Soldier didn't expect the gasp, worried for a moment that the damage was worse than he thought, worse than it felt. Could a repair even happen here—]

That ba— [he started, a breath before BD-1's alarm. Only a few seconds but the Soldier's reflexes kicked in, twisting and catching his friend before Cal could fall too far.

He looked at the little droid, unsure how to best deal with the sudden situation.]

Beep once if we should wait here, or twice if I should bring him inside.

[BD-1 at least knew the things Cal could do, but he'd only ever seen this sort of reaction once, but once was all it took. He was relieved that at least the Soldier caught the Jedi just before he collapsed, hovering anxiously by.

The man's request earned him a single beep that didn't sound quite like one if only because apparently saying 'beep' in Binary did not work as onomatopoeia. It was followed by another as BD had to consider the situation. After all, the last time it had happened, there hadn't been anyone else but the droid with Cal, and it had not been fun waiting to see if his Jedi would come to or not.]

[He took the two sounds to represent the second option; decision made he just had to move Cal. Fortunately the Soldier was stronger than he looked because height-wise they were pretty close and that could be awkward. Instead he was able to gather Cal into his arms, taking most of the weight on his right in case the damage to the left arm was in fact severe.

He looked to BD-1 once he got Cal settled in his arms.] You can cling to me if you don't want to climb the stairs yourself.

[Become the closest shelter was inside the museum. Hope there would be something better than just the floor on which to lay his friend down, but they'd see.]

[The droid hesitated before hopping up to hang on. Stairs weren't necessarily the issue, but he as just watching Cal for signs that he was okay.

...no, not once before. BD-1 found the memory, tucked in that strange section of memories he shouldn't have, of a time here before this. Those caves by the beach, that had been a much worse situation. The droid was thankful that they weren't completely alone here, that there were people they could depend on.

The museum had been cleared out but for the lack of use had gathered dust, but there were some benches available amongst the sparsely furnished room they stepped into. Once inside, BD-1 hopped down, trailing beside the Soldier.]

[The Soldier made his way over to a bench, choosing one that gave him the best sightlines to the rest of the space. Laying Cal down carefully, he tucked his own jacket under his friend's head and sat close. Cal's breathing remained steady as far as he could see; there was no obvious sign to why he had collapsed.

He looked at BD-1, but while Cal understood the droid, the Soldier didn't. The best he'd be able to do was wait, and watch to make sure Cal's condition didn't worsen.]

I'll keep him safe. [It was the best he could promise at the time.]

[BD-1 perched opposite of the Soldier, hooting his concern but otherwise not saying too much as he lingered, waiting.

At least the two of them didn't have to wait for long. Eventually Cal began to stir, brows pulling together as he groaned, his eyelids fluttering open. He vaguely heard the droid's relieved beeping as his senses tried to get come back into focus, mind grasping at whatever chain of events he could gather that led him to the reason he was on his back.

He sat up, maybe too abruptly as he flinched and dropped his face into his palm.]

Nggh... That was not fun.

Steady— [Cautiously, as Cal moved to sit; if the Soldier looked like he was poised to catch his friend again, it might not be an entirely incorrect impression.] Take it slow.

[They had time. No need to rush, though the questions to why Cal had suddenly collapsed burned in his brain.]

[Cal managed a nod, taking in a deep breath as the rest of him worked on balancing things back out. His shoulders sagged even as he straightened his posture some, dropping a hand on BD-1's head as the little droid came up beside his knee, beeping a cautious inquiry.]

Yeah, I'm... I'm okay. Didn't expect that.

Are you sure? [The Soldier also hadn't expected Cal to keel over out of nowhere. It made him wonder if it was a regular occurrence.] You don't have to answer that, but...

[Shut up he's allowed to express a little worry. Emotions are a work in progress.]

[It thankfully wasn't, otherwise he'd be even more trouble than he already tended to get himself into.

Cal ran his hand over his face, but the last of the fragmented images had long faded off, though the impressions were still there. He finally looked over at the other man, the corner of his lips quirking just slightly in the weakest attempt at humor.]

Aw, you do care.

...but yeah. I'm sure. [He paused.]

...and I'm sorry.

Tell anyone and you won't be my favorite anymore, [he shot back readily enough. But the attempt at humor had to be a good thing, right? He gave Cal another once over but the man looked physically fine. That was great, but sometimes the physical was the easy part.

The apology confused him though.]

What can you possibly be sorry for?

[The Jedi pulled his legs in to sit cross-legged, resting his elbows on them.]

...I saw things. Experiences. Yours...

[His gaze shifted over to that metal arm.]

I have this ability... But sometimes I don't have much say in when it triggers. It usually happens when the impressions left are particularly strong, and a lot of the time, it's in connection with negative emotions.

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