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.
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"The Agrii have been intervening- they usually try to when they see us in trouble. I think their ability to do so has been limited lately, because previously, I thought they would teleport troublemakers into the fountain before they can do any real harm. I...was attacked once here by someone and before she could bite me- she was a vampire by the way- she just vanished. I heard from Tony that another vampire attempting similar suddenly ended up in the fountain, and I'm assuming they had both been in the city square at the time."
He shakes his head. "But those are only two datapoints to compare with, so maybe that's not the best proof. I did however ask Te Mi about if the Agrii had tried to do anything when Richie got attacked. They removed the knife from the attacker once they saw what was happening, but apparently they can only swap objects of like-size, which... I think is why a pipe became involved, not the greatest intervention but it had been an attempt. I'm not sure what happened with Robin though."
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She listens to the fountain incidents and wonders.
"Have you spoken to anyone who wasn't attacked by a vampire? Maybe the vampires handled it differently than a killer. They're hungry, raging. Emotions are high. Killers...anything I know about them, they attack with an entirely different mindset. It isn't about necessity or confused violence. It's intentional. Deliberate," Max points out.
"I know what happened to Robin," Max says with an empty tone as she recalls the marks on Robin's throat. "They tried to strangle her. So no weapon."
These assholes are clever, and it's mildly scary, but the fear and anger that fill Max make her feel numb.
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He shakes his head then. "Iii am pretty sure she didn't mind the killing part of being hungry," he says, grimacing as he thought of those harsh words and how she'd cheerfully tried bashing his head into the ground. "Not like I've gone around with a survey asking how many people have been attacked around here."
Strangulation. He vaguely remembers that detail, and it makes him wrap his arms around himself. Poor Robin. "...they probably figured if their weapon vanished on them the last time, it couldn't happen if they had no weapons..." he mutters. He feels sick.
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"So that's not it, then. There has to either be a difference between that time and this time, or the Agrii just," Max shrugs, "weren't able to exert the energy needed this time?"
Max tilts her head back and forth then muses, "Maybe it is about time we did that kind of survey? If you use the network, you can get fairly quick answers."
Now she just nods her head, because yes, to all of that. They are cruel, and calculating, to that level.
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He looks away at the suggestion of using the network. "...'m not sure I can do that just yet," he says. Social media has been used against him and he hasn't quite regained his confidence about showing his face. Not to mention his actual tablet is still MIA.
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She's a pilot, but that doesn't mean she can find a way to assist there, too.
"Well," Max shrugs, "I can. If you would rather go door to door asking, you can. But I could make the post, and you and Leo can observe and help me tally up the findings."
Beat. "Because I'm not afraid, of any of them. And they can say and think whatever they want, but it was one of my friends - my family from home - that was attacked. This is very personal now. And I'm going to do whatever it takes to help stop this."
Even if that means she takes ridicule from anyone, even if that means she has to be bait.
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Donnie doesn't look any more convinced. Going door to door still requires social interaction. "...I'm good at data collection," he does offer, because at least he feels he can deal with that much. Data collection has always helped calm him down.
Is that it though? Is he afraid? Donnie knows he's afraid of something but he's not really sure what, exactly. It's something less physical than the people who actually caused harm. He knows he can deal with people like that if it came to fists and weapons.
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"Sounds like we can't do much about that, then." Not that she blames them not wanting more outside help if that didn't help, originally.
"Okay. Then my original suggestion stands. We ask on the network about previous attacks and how those were handled. I can ask questions, you can do data collection from the responses?" Then no one has to go door to door.
Max isn't sure what's going on, but she only feels a need to make sure Robin isn't attacked again, or any of her friends, from home, or new.
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Max's attitude is a refreshing one by contrast. She simply doesn't care what other people think, whereas the turtle just cares too much, thriving on the opinion of others, and on any tidbit of praise he can get for his accomplishments. That's not something he's about to get over any time soon, but he's reminded very much of his best friend back home, and April certainly wouldn't sit around while people- and especially friends and family- were getting hurt. The thought brings a faint if wistful smile to his face. Man, he misses April. But he knows he'd never let her down, and Max is a friend too, so the same stands.
Donnie sucks in a breath, straightening a little. "Okay then. Let's do this."
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Max feels better when Donnie seems more confident. She hates seeing friends down, and she suspects he has the same fire in him she has in herself. One dedicated to make sure this doesn't happen again. Max would probably like, and really get on with, April.
"Good. What we'll do, then. And we'll take the data and see if it adds up to your hypothesis." She doesn't say it out loud, but she's hoping it attracts the attackers, too. They might just give themselves away.
[ ooc: so I might have to super backdate a post for that, but I'm up for it. I'll check on the storm stuff, and maybe just have Max use it as a cover for she's bored, so curious and asking questions? ]
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