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

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.

[Cal tried to explain and it painted enough of a picture for the Soldier to think he understood. Not all the details of course; Cal possessed skills he'd never understand. But one thing was clear:]

I've brought you pain.

[By asking for help, he'd caused Cal to collapse. And as for the inadvertent invasion of his own privacy, well, he didn't want to discuss the sting that caused, telling himself it wasn't Cal's fault.]

And now you know what I am...?

[There was a moment of hesitation before Cal shook his head.]

You didn't do it any more intentionally than I did. ...and as to your question, yes and no.

It was...a lot. Everything was overlapping and pulling in different directions, if I had to summarize anything I wouldn't be able to, not in detail. It was almost as bad as when I got stuck in the caves by the beach here.

What I do know...is that you've been through a lot. It's not my right to know any of it, and I'm still sorry for the intrusion.

Don't apologize.

[Cal didn't do anything wrong. From the sound of it, it'd been the Soldier's fault as much as Cal's, a bad combination of negative memories and too much sensitivity. And to be honest, the Soldier sought out Cal in the first place.

It did leave them in a somewhat awkward conversational place though. How much trust could he give away?]

You can ask. If you want to. I just can't promise that I'll answer.

...I won't ask if you don't want to answer. I know there's plenty of things I'd rather not revisit.

[The Soldier was not the first person he'd witnessed be tormented, punished and warped into something else. But Trilla's past, her pain, had been so much clearer. The Soldier's memories were both muddy and convoluted, layered. Was it just so much that he'd gone through?]

But I don't know if I'll be able to do anything about your arm. [Even after that, his concern was still in that he couldn't help, go figure.]

I'll let you know if you hit on anything I don't want to tell.

[Typically the Soldier had to walk away from the questions and the feeling that others believed themselves entitled to his story. Talking to someone who didn't want to even ask was strange, in a good way.]

Don't worry about my arm. I'll figure something out. [It wasn't worth Cal being uncomfortable, just for the Soldier to get a repair. He'd find another way.]

[There were other capable mechanics in the city at least. Cal knew however that it was more an issue of trust, and a part of him still felt bad for being unable to assist with that. Usually he could manage not to trigger any Force-induced memories once he'd seen them, but he wasn't so sure about something steeped in so many experiences...]

...you were used. Have been used even here.

[He couldn't remember the guttural words, but he remembered the sounds, the impressions and the numbness that came with them.]

There's a book here, isn't there? I've been meaning to find it. ...so no one can use you again.

[The Soldier was already preparing a mental list of how to deal with his arm problem. Just ignore it was so far the leading option, but perhaps he'd consider if he could ask someone else. Eventually.]

Yes. I was.

[Both at home and in his life here. There was no point denying it.

The book though... Cal's statement threw the Soldier for a loop and his face likely shows his surprise. He never would have expected someone to care so much about not using the Soldier.]

There is. Beck had it; I don't know how he got it. He activated my programming. [Cal may have guessed as much.] I don't know what to say.

Edited (verb tenses are evil) 2023-09-18 03:52 (UTC)

...people were used like that in my galaxy too. Soldiers that were my friends...

[He didn't know it at the time, but there had to be something to it, to turn an army of clone troopers so willingly against the generals and commanders, the Jedi that they'd fought alongside for the duration of an entire war.

It wasn't until Cal had come here that he'd learned the awful truth, even though he'd already suspected that they'd been used, pawns just like the Jedi in an even greater game that no one had any idea they'd been forced to play.]

I remember speaking to one of the Agrii about it. They were concerned too, after seeing what Beck did to you. I'm not sure if they've located it, but if it's still here somewhere, we need to make sure no one gets it.

[The end of one side of his mouth quirks, briefly.] What's to say? You're my friend. And even if you weren't, making you do things that no one should ever have to... It isn't right. You're a person, not a weapon.

Good to know that the evil isn't just contained to where I'm from.

[Actually it was the opposite of good, and the Soldier wouldn't wish it on anyone. But it did give him a perverse sense of peace to know that he wasn't the only one.

Still, having Cal express so much in care surprised him.]

I'm surprised that they expressed concern, considering that they keep taking me from this place. [To be similarly used, the Soldier believed. He had no concrete evidence of that though, just the way he felt when he returned.] the only place it belongs is in a fire.

[That expression was nice. The Soldier didn't know why Cal cared so much but lately he questioned it less and less.]

I'm more weapon than person. Forgetting that could put people in danger.

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

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