revivalproject | 02 | I'd like to make myself believe

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02 | I'd like to make myself believe

WHO: the Soldier (

sinistral) and you
WHERE: network and out-and-about
WHAT: pre-voyage preparations
WHEN: after the Agrii announcement; before heading onto the ships
WARNINGS: none expected aside this asshole's attitude; will update if necessary

NETWORK
→ Text;

If anyone tries field stripping one of those Agrii weapons
You might be in for a shock
Just FYI

[Can a text sound pissy? Because this one most definitely is.]

TEMBA
→ Exploration;

In the wake of the Agrii communication — and people weren't kidding about the communication skills there — and the apparently inevitable excursion into space, the Soldier is making use of his time by combing through the ruins looking for potentially useful equipment. The weapons had been interesting yet disappointing as well; he considered himself something of a weapons expert, but the gun's workings had escaped him, even with the knowledge from the Atroma added to his own base skills.

He's definitely not happy about that.

To work out the frustration — from that, and from this whole Agrii situation — he's out and about the run-down city: exploring, scavenging, and yes, pushing himself into as much of a workout as can be had in the landscape. Occasionally something might catch his eye, or perhaps your character is more the sort to try to flag him down.

→ Wildcard;

Want something else? Have an idea? Hit me up at

sometimesamuse or via PM. Open to wherever, whatever, and though I write starters in prose I'm more than happy to switch to brackets if it's your preference. Want to handwave a vaguely-met-during-Calibrations so we don't have to go through the first meeting/introductions thing? I'm perfectly fine with that, just give me a heads up. Has your character met one of the other Buckys and wants to go for the whole mistaken identity thing? Go for it!

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Cal shakes his own arms out, giving each side a brief massage. He's sure he'll feel it later, but at least it's preferable to feeling numb from alien squid-fish bites.

"That makes two of us," he says as he eyes the door. Does it open inward or outward? He steps over towards it, casting just a brief if wary glance above before he tries to give the thing a test push. They can hope it'd open easy, at least. If not, well, there are other options.

Alien-squid-fish sound particularly nasty, this is true. Much better the slight discomfort from exerting muscles in a physical manner (and not causing an avalanche of debris on their heads).

He nods as his companion steps to the door, a hand dropping to the combat knife sheathed at his hip. Chances are that nothing's lying in wait for them, but old habits die hard — especially old, useful habits. At least the door seems to give easily; a small reward, perhaps, for their struggle with the beam blocking it.

The view inside though...

Well, it's interesting. Hard to see all the details from the doorway, but it's certainly dusty. And cobwebby. And dim. And looks kind of like a junk shop actually. He's not sure if anything will be useful — they'll need to get a closer look — and the Soldier glances at his companion before slipping through the door, keeping close to the wall and on guard for an ambush (that probably won't come, but old habits).

Wary about going anywhere unexplored and in such conditions, Cal takes slow steps within, but he doesn't sense anything lurking, at least. One of BD-1's lenses powers up, providing some ambient light so they can get a better look at things.

"Whoa..." From a glance, it looks like...a lot of stuff. Just sitting there. It's strange. Cal glances back at the Soldier, starting towards one of the closer tables. He runs a finger along the edge of one, studying the dust build-up.

His droid friend hoots curiously as he casts his light over the tables, another, thinner, blue light emitting from his lens as he scans things.

"What do you make of this..?" Cal asks as he starts along the other tables, eyes roving across the various mound of dust and cobweb-coated assortments.

There's a moment of tension when the robot's light activates, until the Soldier realizes that it is the robot, and meant as a form of assistance. Quite a handy little thing, he has to admit.

"Flea market?" He relaxes just slightly as he replies, flipping the knife back into its sheath and straightening when he confirms that they are, in fact, alone. Weirdly alone. With a lot of stuff and dust and cobwebs, but no sign of what could have left any of it.

That's totally reassuring.

Not that beggars can be choosers with the scavenging, but it seems an eclectic collection of just stuff. Not too useful, but potentially not entirely useless either.

"I don't know what I was expecting, but I also don't know that I was expecting this." Look at that: continued whole sentences. This is an accomplishment.

It's a strange find indeed. Cal can't really disagree with the Soldier's assessment as he looks over the dusty tables.

"Yeah...same," he admits. "Although I guess I was sort of hoping for something that hinted more about the strange ruins we found at the bottom of the lake."

He steps towards one of the tables by the side, falling silent as though drawn there. Slowly he lifts a hand, resting it upon the things there, closing his eyes.

"Gonna have to tell me about those ruins." Swimming isn't outside his skillset, but it's annoying more than anything else, considering the strength needed to offset the fact that a quarter of his body is now metal and thus likes to sink in water.

Stupid HYDRA.

He's about to ask another question when he sees his companion doing something that looks a lot like concentrating. While touching strange alien things. With his eyes closed. Well then. Some people just have strange hobbies.

But no, after a moment of it he can only assume it's some sort of other sense or something. He's acquainted with Wanda's abilities and how her senses extend beyond the typical; perhaps this is something of the sort? He draws closer just in case; lost in concentration makes a person a great target for attack. After the assistance with gaining entry, it'd be in poor form to not take a defensive position, just in case.

The padawan will get back to the ruins in a moment. He's currently in another moment, hearing the low murmur and movement of people, catching a glimpse of a past before this place was claimed by dust and cobwebs.

Slowly Cal opens his eyes again, looking at the abandoned tables in a new light. "...I don't think you were off the mark at all. I...I saw people...passing in and out of this place. This used to be space for shops and trade."

He glances at the man. "And there's this lingering sense of...hopelessness. Being unable to escape their situation. I've sensed it before, down in the lake ruins. But those ruins didn't look anything like the buildings around the city."

"You saw them?" That's a strange skill indeed, as there's nothing to physically see aside from the assorted items and a lot of dust, dirt and cobwebs. He can't even discern fingerprints save for what they've left with their own movements.

Hopelessness though doesn't sound overly encouraging. He supposes it's natural for a level of being resigned to one's fate, but— "I have to wonder if that impression will somehow wear off on those of us here, now." He's probably just being overly paranoid but considering his history with mental intrusion, he feels it justified.

"Interesting. Hopeless, and no escape, and they pull us from where we belong and drop us here. Altruistic, aren't they?"

Cal nods. "I can see...glimpses of memories, things that have happened, echoes in the Force. Not all the time, but I guess places like this would have had enough traffic to make an impression."

He has to agree though, the overall feeling he's been picking up from the people of the past don't seem to be very pleasant. "Yeah... It makes me wonder if we're hardly the first time they've tried to get others to help them out like this." But then if it hasn't worked before, why keep doing it?

"Down below, there was more a sense of endless service. We also saw some strange machinery- but we couldn't place what they were used for. And we also found weapons. They look like some sort of firearms anyway."

Cal glances over his shoulder at BD-1, and the droid swings around his arm and hops onto one of the dusty tables, his other lens flickering before projecting the images he'd taken of the strange gun-like objects that he, Jon and Tony had found.

“Memories, huh? Interesting trick.” And not the first person to mention a skill with memories. It makes him wonder at the Agrii’s criteria in bringing people here, what they look for in those they grab.

To the supposition though he can only snort, shaking his head and moving to explore the contents of the closest table a little more. “It’s no risk to them, is it? Bring in a group, see if they fail. If so, just bring in another. We’re expendable.” His tone is flat when he says it; it’s not his first time with that sort of mentality.

He turns his attention away from the tables and toward the projection — neat trick! — that the robot shares. And frowns at what he’s seeing because it can’t possibly be—

“This was in the lake?” He reaches out but of course his hand passes right through the projection. It just looks astonishingly real. “You’re sure?”

It's not something Cal had considered until he'd started to try sensing what echoes he could in the city. The results have not been very reassuring, and he can't really refute the Soldier's thoughts on the matter.

The man's reaction has him arch a brow at him, but there's no questioning the recognition. "Yes. I went below with Tony and Jon, and we found...it looked more like some kind of spacecraft's interior than a building. It's definitely been down there for some time. I have the actual objects back at the workshop." He still can't believe both Jon and Tony had taken it upon themselves to go down alone on separate occasions to retrieve them after their hasty retreat in the initial adventure, but at least they both returned safe, and they had their mysterious findings.

"You've seen them before?" Cal prompts.

The Soldier is very good at pointing out the things others may not want to consider. It comes in large part from being a weapon himself, more than a person; he’s more than passingly familiar with the many ways one can be used.

“Interesting,” he replies, dragging his eyes from the image to his companion’s face. “Especially the timeline. Though I guess time isn’t necessarily a barrier to these Agrii.” Neither had it been for the Atroma, another uncomfortable parallel.

At the question, he barks out a laugh. “Seen them and used them, unless my memory serves me ill. It’s Atroma technology.”

"No. I've met people here who were familiar with my galaxy that were from centuries in the past. But whatever's down under the lake definitely shows signs of degradation. Most of the damage just seems to be from what you'd expect of something sitting under water for a really, really long time."

The laugh startles BD-1, who gives a slight jerk in start, the holoprojection flickering with his movement.

"The Atroma..." Cal frowns. The name's familiar, but he's only heard about them briefly. "Sansa mentioned them to me once. Who are they? Were you a part of whatever fleet there was?"

“Time wasn’t a barrier for where I was before this, either.” Though, that long? That’s a hell of a thing to wrap his mind around, considering he’d only escaped the Atroma a year ago, with the dissolution of the Drift Fleet.

The Soldier glances at the robot, briefly and with a wry smile. It’s almost like the little thing has a personality, which would be unbelievable to him before he’d been taken from his home. Now, well, he’s seen other similarly strange things.

“Mmm,” he hums in assent, both to the question and the mention of Sansa. “I was. Sansa and I were shipmates in their Fleet. They were... I suppose they could be considered many things, but I always viewed them as captors.”

Since it seems they no longer need the projections, BD-1 lets it fade, switching back to his other lighting. He begins to clamber back up Cal's arm, pausing as both he and the padawan look down at the dusty trail left in his wake up Cal's sleeve. The way the droid's antennae droop slightly convey some air of sheepishness, but he's waved along as Cal gives a distracted brush of his arm. Probably be better not to kick up too much dust around here anyway.

"If the situation's about the same when it comes to how you got there, I couldn't disagree about that assessment," he says. "Did they need your help too? Sansa said something about performing though..."

Yup, definite personality on the little robot. He files the questions away for later though; given what seems to be a revelation about a possible connection between the Agrii and the Atroma, the behavior of the little unit isn’t currently important.

“I suppose that depends on your definition of ‘help’.” He takes a moment to decide how best to explain the Fleet. “We were performers, an intergalactic reality-show-slash-soap-opera is probably the best way to describe it. Ratings mattered, and you were expected to keep yours high.”

Another pause; the Soldier crosses his arms over his chest, remembering. “But in our... voyage, I guess you could call it, the Atroma would occasionally have tasks for us. Missions. And they could control us, to an extent.”

"I meant something like what the Agrii apparently expect of us, but..." Entertainment? Unfortunately he's caught early on that this man does not seem the type to joke.

"What sort of missions?" Actual missions or the sort with quotations around it? The information about the Atroma just seems to get better and better. "I don't like the sound of that. How could they control you? And to do what?" The thought alone is a chilling one.

“Not in my experience. However, I did hear from another member of the Fleet that their efforts on a planet to which they were sent were not fruitful. People from that place died, in what I was told were large numbers.” He hadn’t experienced it firsthand, but trusted the person who’d told him. Unfortunately there still remained very little context.

As far as missions though, he is able to elaborate. “Sometimes we were to obtain items. Other times to deliver cargo. Always with too little information.”

His gaze lowers to a point on the ground between them. “When they... obtained you, you first woke up in their mothership, in a sort of medical facility. They implanted a chip into you—” his flesh-and-blood hand comes up, tapping the back of his neck “—through which they gave you knowledge of the Fleet. Information they wanted you to know. Skills they wanted you to have. And they could use it to control you, whenever they wished.”

What he doesn’t say is that he in particular is more susceptible to control than perhaps the average person.

Edited 2020-08-02 06:19 (UTC)

The more he hears about what the Atroma wanted of their captives, the less Cal likes them. It hadn't been a very high bar to start, but when the Soldier expounds on what happened to those who were first brought to the Atroma fleet, he looks horrified.

"That's...that's terrible," the padawan shivers, and even behind him, his little droid friend gives a stammering hoot. "...yeah BeeDee, that does sound a little like what people do with droids. I don't like it either."

“It could have been worse.” He knows worse, knows it far too well. At least with the Atroma there had been the illusion of free will within their cage. And ultimately they’d slipped those bonds.

“I still have their control implant,” he says eventually. “I was Security. I’d always wondered if they did it just to be assholes, but I might have some input on those weapons.”

That the man still possesses the implant is unsettling. "Security... So they made you choose what sort of specialty, just like the Agrii and their datapoints?"

There's a lot to unpack, but Cal isn't sure if they'll get beyond assumptions and concerning possibilities. They also had only so much time and a mission hanging over their heads.

"If you want to see the actual weapons, you're welcome to do so. We can go after we're finished here." He's not sure that they'll find anything of immediate use here, but they can still do a quick inventory.

"You assume we got to choose." He gives a bitter laugh at that. "You were assigned what the Atroma wished you to be. That decision was never voluntary, and you could not be exempted from it."

Which makes the fact that an outside entity assigned a Security designation to an assassin all the more a slap in the face.

"I can't promise that my knowledge would help. But of the others that the Atroma also held, I believe I'm the only one who was Security." He could be wrong in that of course, not having access to the Atroma's database of Fleet crew, but there exists the very real possibility that he could be the only one. The knowledge he has may be their only source of it, and if there exists on this planet evidence of the Atroma, it's best to share that knowledge.

After their scavenging, of course. "Agreed. We should see if there is anything of potential use here." With the door now unblocked it wouldn't be impossible to return, should they want anything else, but for the present it's likely best to see what of the lot they might want now.

Cal is really not liking these Atroma the more he hears about them. He can't blame the man at all for having such an attitude towards the Agrii and their current situation.

He lets that talk lapse in favor of helping them turn their focus upon their findings here, nodding. "Just don't breathe in too deeply," he suggests with a quirk of his lips as he looks again at everything. Most of what he can make out seems to be pretty normal and not at all Agrii in origin.

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02 | I'd like to make myself believe

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