Othello Von Ryan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thepurpleone) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2024-09-28 10:58 pm
thepurpleone) wrote in revivalproject2024-09-28 10:58 pm
Trying Not To
WHO: Donnie and you?
WHERE: Between and within Orange, Blue and Green
WHAT: Wall
WHEN: Late September
WARNINGS: I was in a write-y mood
It's hard to fix things when it seems that people don't care about having things fixed.
Back home, when things needed to be fixed, there'd be no peace until the problem was corrected. Donnie had slotted himself right into that role and performed it without complaint, and he prided himself in keeping things in working order and up to date. His family could live in comfort and despite having to live apart from humanity, was still fully connected to the world around them so long as the wifi was working.
So of course when he'd found himself dropped into the late snows of an alien planet, once it became clear that there was a problem to be attended to, Donnie assumed that his purpose here was obvious. Could a fourteen-year-old possibly be so arrogant to think he was the solution to fixing the problems of a displaced alien race?
Yes.
Admittedly, after being here for a year and with little actual Storm experience to show for, it had started to temper his ambitions, but Donnie had been much too stubborn to give up. He couldn't give up, because that meant never going home, and for someone who had never been away from his family for so long, this simply wasn't an option.
He'd found his drive again, in spite of the things that had happened, and in other instances, because of the things that happened. He now had his brother to lean on when things got difficult. And things had certainly gotten difficult.
This whole murder witch-hunt however is wearing down on him in ways he'd never considered. The confrontation with Stu had been a disaster so far as he had seen, and the more that had been said, the less he'd felt that putting in an appearance then would have helped matters. All the jumble of emotions had balled up so tightly in his gut and he had no name to any of them, save that he could probably do without the experience. He wanted to be sick, he wanted to just not be there, but every time someone said his name, it just felt like couldn't leave. Maybe he shouldn't have told anyone else. Maybe then things wouldn't have gone so horribly wrong. Again.
What was the point of it all? Any efforts made to try and get them any closer to figuring out what was going on with this planet and their mystery-watchers were being effectively waylaid because someone decided they were going to try killing people for the heck of it. Maybe that was evidence in itself, maybe they didn't really take the situation seriously. But did that really matter? Words hadn't resolved anything yet, which is why Donnie usually let his work do the talking. His confidence was always in his work, and in getting things done. And yet that had brought up another realization.
What's the point of being the tech-guy when anyone can fix things or code things with the touch of a sphere and an instant upload into your brain? It feels like his abilities were cheapened. Sure, he'd been ecstatic when he'd gotten Leo to figure out how to work with and understand code, and it was bad enough not being able to do two things that otherwise went hand-in-hand so far as he was concerned. But those uncomfortable, familiar insecurities have been working their way into his thoughts.
Is he even really needed here? If anyone can figure out how to fix or put together machines or program a tablet with a data point, then where did that leave him? It's a crippling thought that hurts even more than admitting to himself how bad he is with people. It swirls and builds with everything else like a steadily building cyclone and trying to pull anything from it to make sense of it has been an exhausting cycle in itself.
The emptiness that eventually rolls in after is almost welcoming. Maybe that's not quite what it is. Can someone get tired of feelings? Not his area of expertise. At the moment he doesn't particularly care so long as it saves him the discomfort. He has... Well, he thought he had things to do. He doesn't feel very motivated to continue them at the moment, but with the power being unreliable of late due to the strange storm patterns, maybe it doesn't matter too much.
So it's outside that he goes.
It's cloudy out but for the moment it doesn't seem like there's any rain just yet, not that the wet weather particularly bothers him so much as the hints of Storms with a capital 'S'. But with the instability of tech that comes with such Storms, that also means it's probably better not to fly around. Crash-landing from equipment failure seems somehow more embarrassing than getting caught walking around alone despite all the insistence from people not to, but it's one of those rare times where his overthink's not running wild, and he wants to enjoy the silence while he can. The walk out to the space he's planted his test garden is a long one given it's on the opposite side of the city and it's only longer if he doesn't cut through the city center, but at least he's more or less managed to regain his usual stamina since the accident aboard the Agrii ship.
WHERE: Between and within Orange, Blue and Green
WHAT: Wall
WHEN: Late September
WARNINGS: I was in a write-y mood
It's hard to fix things when it seems that people don't care about having things fixed.
Back home, when things needed to be fixed, there'd be no peace until the problem was corrected. Donnie had slotted himself right into that role and performed it without complaint, and he prided himself in keeping things in working order and up to date. His family could live in comfort and despite having to live apart from humanity, was still fully connected to the world around them so long as the wifi was working.
So of course when he'd found himself dropped into the late snows of an alien planet, once it became clear that there was a problem to be attended to, Donnie assumed that his purpose here was obvious. Could a fourteen-year-old possibly be so arrogant to think he was the solution to fixing the problems of a displaced alien race?
Yes.
Admittedly, after being here for a year and with little actual Storm experience to show for, it had started to temper his ambitions, but Donnie had been much too stubborn to give up. He couldn't give up, because that meant never going home, and for someone who had never been away from his family for so long, this simply wasn't an option.
He'd found his drive again, in spite of the things that had happened, and in other instances, because of the things that happened. He now had his brother to lean on when things got difficult. And things had certainly gotten difficult.
This whole murder witch-hunt however is wearing down on him in ways he'd never considered. The confrontation with Stu had been a disaster so far as he had seen, and the more that had been said, the less he'd felt that putting in an appearance then would have helped matters. All the jumble of emotions had balled up so tightly in his gut and he had no name to any of them, save that he could probably do without the experience. He wanted to be sick, he wanted to just not be there, but every time someone said his name, it just felt like couldn't leave. Maybe he shouldn't have told anyone else. Maybe then things wouldn't have gone so horribly wrong. Again.
What was the point of it all? Any efforts made to try and get them any closer to figuring out what was going on with this planet and their mystery-watchers were being effectively waylaid because someone decided they were going to try killing people for the heck of it. Maybe that was evidence in itself, maybe they didn't really take the situation seriously. But did that really matter? Words hadn't resolved anything yet, which is why Donnie usually let his work do the talking. His confidence was always in his work, and in getting things done. And yet that had brought up another realization.
What's the point of being the tech-guy when anyone can fix things or code things with the touch of a sphere and an instant upload into your brain? It feels like his abilities were cheapened. Sure, he'd been ecstatic when he'd gotten Leo to figure out how to work with and understand code, and it was bad enough not being able to do two things that otherwise went hand-in-hand so far as he was concerned. But those uncomfortable, familiar insecurities have been working their way into his thoughts.
Is he even really needed here? If anyone can figure out how to fix or put together machines or program a tablet with a data point, then where did that leave him? It's a crippling thought that hurts even more than admitting to himself how bad he is with people. It swirls and builds with everything else like a steadily building cyclone and trying to pull anything from it to make sense of it has been an exhausting cycle in itself.
The emptiness that eventually rolls in after is almost welcoming. Maybe that's not quite what it is. Can someone get tired of feelings? Not his area of expertise. At the moment he doesn't particularly care so long as it saves him the discomfort. He has... Well, he thought he had things to do. He doesn't feel very motivated to continue them at the moment, but with the power being unreliable of late due to the strange storm patterns, maybe it doesn't matter too much.
So it's outside that he goes.
It's cloudy out but for the moment it doesn't seem like there's any rain just yet, not that the wet weather particularly bothers him so much as the hints of Storms with a capital 'S'. But with the instability of tech that comes with such Storms, that also means it's probably better not to fly around. Crash-landing from equipment failure seems somehow more embarrassing than getting caught walking around alone despite all the insistence from people not to, but it's one of those rare times where his overthink's not running wild, and he wants to enjoy the silence while he can. The walk out to the space he's planted his test garden is a long one given it's on the opposite side of the city and it's only longer if he doesn't cut through the city center, but at least he's more or less managed to regain his usual stamina since the accident aboard the Agrii ship.
no subject
She's not useful to Donnie; ergo, she should go. She gives him a businesslike nod, then turns to do so, saying over her shoulder, "You guys take care of yourselves, okay?"
no subject
He knows Shaw's...well, refreshingly different when it comes to processing things. And he knows that maybe she's not actually taking things personally at what he hadn't meant to be an outright dismissal, but it still makes him anxious.
"We will. Um. You be careful too, okay?" Donnie adds, glancing back after her.
no subject
"I always seem to come out alive. I'm like a bad penny."
no subject
"You're still a keeper, Shaw." No matter what happened, Donnie still knows she's a solid ally in spite of all the madness. But they're all mad here.
no subject
"You too, kid," she says - the kid affectionate, not belittling or dismissive.