singularityderp | Dark Future Meme

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Dark Future Meme

Ten years later, humanity and the synthetic life on the station are at odds
Hypatia has inducted as many citizens of Sacrosanct into a private military and launched
an all-out war against organic life and the people of Asphodel.
Some were kept on the station as captives, some escaped down planet-side
to become part of the resistance, and countless others were re-purposed into
Hypatia's willing slaves.

Now, tensions are at a peak and both sides are preparing for a throwdown. Skirmishes break out on the station and planet. Many of Hypatia's prisoners have been freed, but many more have fallen to the clutches of reprogramming.

Where will you be?

How this works:
-If you are synthetic or part-synthetic, OR if you have special armor (Looking at you, Spartans, Troncast, EVERY ROBOT EVER) you are a target for re-purpose.
You can still have escaped down to the planet, but she'll be after you. Going to the station is dangerous, once you enter her wide-area-network you are at risk of being hacked

-If you are fully organic, you are either dead, kept prisoner and made to work on the station, or part of the resistance on Asphodel.

-Anything in-between? You decide. Be creative with this.

-Fill out the form below to give us an idea of what your character is up to, what happened to them etc. Thread with each other! RP it out!

-Also, bring in your extra journals! There won't be the same people on the station ten years from now! If you're planning to app someone, or just have something interesting lying around, toss them in!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

"You're obviously not Orphaner, and the sooner you realize this, the better. Strategizing and planning takes practice. You don't suddenly become good at it. You keep trying, and you keep hoping that your fuckups don't result in deaths. Sitting around, wishing you were better doesn't do shit. You need to develop your skills, just like training to use a weapon. Except the weapon is your goddamn brain-sponge."

She's been getting better. A little bit at a time. She's not quite Buffy again, not yet, but she's starting to be able to function a little. She doesn't just sit there looking like a doll like she did when they first started, at least.

She looks up when he comes in, blinking slowly at him. "You were here before. We... talked about movies. Right?" It's hard, she has a lot of trouble accessing memories, though her personality is slowly starting to trickle to the surface. She hasn't smiled yet, though. It's like she doesn't know how. It's one of the more unnerving things about her current state, all things considered.

The alternative to trying to grab the papers is to grab at Terezi. Which is what he does as he paps and grabs at her arms.

"This isn't even a fucking game-- Just give me the shit, goddamn! What the hell is your problem!?"

[ Wash had adjusted with time-- years and years on fucking years, and that idea alone scares him beyond all reason. He doesn't want to end up like this for years. He can't imagine waking up and going to bed feeling like his head is swimming and empty and wrong.

Both of their hands ease over him, and York curls an arm around her waist, pressing his face into her chest, curling his arm around Wash's waist too, just hugging them for a long moment, fisting his hand in Wash's shirt. ]

I'm not going anywhere, but I-- Jesus, I can't keep my head straight half the time.

A lot of maybes died when he failed to make it out of the station. Maybe he could have done something, maybe she'd still be able to see, maybe things would have worked out for the better.

But maybe not. Maybe he'd be dead by now anyway. Ladon wasn't the hardiest individual. He'd been through a lot, but nothing like life on Asphodel, nothing like the war he still managed to tip-toe on the outside of. And then there were the kids. Would Jade have gone insane? Would the prisoners have died? He couldn't say his own happiness was more important than theirs. Years ago it was possible he would have-- but still unlikely.

He cringes when she whispers, pulls her a little closer. "I don't want to. God, I don't." He's thankful his fake eye can't produce tears. "But I gotta go back. I'm sorry."

It's somewhat of a relief, not having any resistance to his request. He didn't need Skyfire to remove it, given what his abilities are, but it's nice to not have to use them. And certainly best for preserving energy.

"I have not seen you in quite some time. Allow me the request."

He turns away for a moment to collect up some tools, "It would be easier if you were not in the suit at all, however I assumed you would rather the small request to that one."

He sets his tools down in proper order upon a table, and gets to work at checking for the exact problem with Skyfire's wing.

"Did you want something to eat while you are here?"

"Same as is always up, brother. Or rather what motherfuckin' isn't." He shrugs his shoulders lightly. The fluctuation in his voice is still there, but it's gone from normal and yelling to normal and hushed.

"Thought a leader might be hungry."

And how exactly is that new?

[ It's not exactly a good time for jokes, and it's too rough and empty to really have much humor to it, but Wash doesn't care, just squeezing him closer and leaning down to press his head against his. He knows what York's going through, knows how wrong his head must feel after so long with Delta mixed in to every little part of it, and he strokes his hand back and forth through his hair, holding tight. ]

You have us, Sean. You always held us together. Let us do the same thing, okay?

Edited 2012-02-07 04:31 (UTC)

"Dualscar." He corrected. "I only call him by his fuckin' title because I have the rights to." Growling slightly, he shifts again, turning over to let his back face Karkat. "Considerin' that I had been doin' that shit before we started SGRUB, I'm wonderin' what even went wrong with me between then and now. I have been even OVER preparin' t'try an' make sure that there's nothin' t'fuckin' fail my plan, but they're still shitty as ever." He shook his hand in the air, "Plus, if you haven't noticed, we don't really have the fuckin' time for me t'try to just sit down an' work on it like I want to."

Alas, he sits there in silence, realizing what he just said.

"... ... But you're right. I've been practicin' my fuckin' ass off, but I know it's not gonna be enough until I start showin' some hard results. We just got off by some a the ones I came up with. I also can't fuckin' believe I still can't live up to my god damned title."

Uh... He peers back over his shoulder to Karkat, chuckling sheepishly. "I'm just coverin' all of the corners with you, huh? ... I really hope you don't mind. I can stop if y'want me to."

[Sarah smiles a little at the joke, not really amused, just wrapping her arms tight around York and holding him close.

She raises her head enough to press a kiss into his hair, gentle, and draws back, looking at him with a sigh.]

You're exhausted.

[Disentangling her arms from him, she stands, catching York's hand in hers and tugging gently.]

C'mon. I think we could all use some sleep.

If she were someone else, maybe she'd take this opportunity to kiss him, like the day they first met only without mistletoe compelling them to it. May would do it, steal a kiss to remember him by, and part of Toby thinks maybe, maybe she should do that, too.

But it's not her. She takes a deep shuddering breath, presses a soft kiss to his cheek, and steps back.

She attempts a smile that really doesn't quite make it past "wince", and nods as if something's been decided.

"I'll see you around, boss," she says quietly. It's a promise that they both know they can't keep, at the heart of it, but she can't say goodbye.

If she says goodbye, that's like giving up. Even if the odds are a million to one, she can't quite do that.

Nope nope nope. Terezi hugs the file close to her chest and turtles up, ignoring the paps and trying to keep him from prying her arms away from her.

"We all play a game of manners and social niceties whenever we interact with someone, duhhhh. Well. Not you, that's for certain. Your complete and utter lack of the basics of politeness is a worrying matter. Do I need to take you to etiquette school?"

"Sup, Sollux," Terezi says as comes in. "Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?"

She's usually caught up in making notes of various doomed timelines, sequestering herself away from everyone else as she trawls for whatever information she can get her claws on, but she likes to sit with him when she finds the time. There seems to be less and less opportunity for her to get away as the days go by, but she tries to make a point to take a break every once in a while and visit for a bit, even if it's just to scribble on the walls and floor of his block because she's run out of space in her own.

[ York doesn't smile, doesn't laugh, just looks at Wash like he doesn't get the joke, and shakes his head, drawing back a little until Sarah hugs him like that.

He's always exhausted, that's not really a new thing.

Just looking at her for a long moment, he looks like he wants to fight about it, but swallows it down, just nodding, standing up between the two of them. He's exhausted but he doesn't think he can sleep with his mind on overdrive like this; he'll come with them anyway, since it's easier when they're there. ]

Sure.

[ It's to her and to Wash's comment, rubbing his eyes to try and chase the burning away, but it doesn't do much good. It's routines he depends on right now, following those rather than anything else, because it's all jumbled and wrong and messed up in his head. ]

Had Ladon been a different person in a different set of circumstances, perhaps he would have kissed her too. Instead he brushes her hair back, and though she can't see it, he smiles. It's pained, but it's genuine. He's happy he got to see her again, even if there's no telling it he ever will again.

"Keep your chin up, doll." He unfolds his wings then, slowly lets her go. "I'll send as many down to you guys as I can."

That's really all he can promise after all. Any more hesitation will just hurt, and so he takes off running, wings beating, and then takes to the air, forcing himself to not look back.

[ Wash slides an arm under York's on autopilot, holding him up and steady as he guides him down the hall towards the bedroom. He knows York doesn't want to be coddled, doesn't want them to have to support him, but he's getting worse, not better, and he's not going to give up on him any time soon.

He leans in to press a kiss to his temple and nudges him towards the bed, drawing back enough to tug his jacket off. ]

Just-- c'mere, lie down with us and close your eyes for a little while, okay?

[Furniture's hard to get on Asphodel these days - most things are hard to get, actually, but the bed's their one luxury. It's big enough for all three of them, soft and firm and comfortable, because they all have enough trouble sleeping without bedsprings digging into their backs.

Sarah kicks off her shoes and turns out the light, letting the weak light from the small window illuminate the room, and pulls back the blankets, crawling in after York with a tired sigh.]

Just try and rest, okay?

He sighs.

He'd rather be out of here fast enough. Being close to Shockwave- as much as he is drawn to him, brings the usual confusing, painful wash of fragmented memories.

He quietly shakes his head at the offer. Food is a precious commodity, and it's not something he relies on often. His suit does most of the work.

He just sighs and the suit slides back from his body.

He steps out of it to let Shockwave do his work. It leaves him entirely naked, but he's so detached from what little humanity he had it hardly matters.

An hour in to it, and his systems have dropped down. Not truly in to recharge - he's on watch, after all - but enough that he doesn't even consider his weapons as he turns to look at the moving form.

Memories of his own stir. Ones that would be better left away, forgotten so that they cannot be stolen. But even as they are removed from hard-write, his spark remembers a time when neither of them were so rough around the edges. Perhaps nowhere near smooth and unblemished, but...

Cycling his vents in a sigh, he rests his hand against the smaller form in an almost protective manner.

[ At least thieving isn't as hard here. Shitty as a thought as it is, he doesn't mind stealing what they need, if they don't need it, if they have too much. He doesn't ask their permission anymore-- he just does what he needs to keep them alive. ]

...Shit.

[ York just sighs it out, curling up between the two of them, shrugging his shirt off and unbuttoning his pants, tossing them aside so he's just wearing a tanktop and boxers, curling between them. ]

Y'know I'm sorry. Right?

Words words words. Annoying. He closes a hand around his victim's throat just to stop the noise.

Gamzee Gamzee Gamzee. Maybe somewhere under all that rust he hears it, hears it and remembers. A name. A name to put to the monster. Maybe in another life he stops and repeats the name and draws back from his former matesprit, letting him go. Maybe he remembers. Maybe over the next several months, he comes back, piece by piece.

Maybe.

His world has no place for maybes.

So instead he digs his claws in and squeezes, aiming to tear Eridan's throat out with his bare hands.

There's a slight arch of his brow as Skyfire actually removes himself from his suit. Unexpected, incredibly so. He assumed it would be more likely for the shuttle to agree with the idea of food than the idea of removing his suit. Perhaps it just shows how out of touch he is with the shuttle now.

Skyfire's lack of clothes is hardly concerning to him, it's nothing he's never seen before, and he has work to do.

"There is a blanket on the bed. Feel free to use it while you wait."

Human bodies were fragile, and if there's one thing Shockwave remembers most about Skyfire, it's his aversion to cold.

[ Things are rough out here, that much goes without saying -- they have to bargain with whatever other survivors they can find, and more often than not the deal goes south. They've done what they had to in order to make it, and Wash is long past having any regrets about it.

Wash drags off his jeans, climbing in next to York in a wifebeater and boxers, and just slides an arm around him, fingers brushing over Sarah's side where he can reach her as he spoons up next to York. ]

We know. It's okay.

[Sarah kicks her pants off, too, and unhooks her bra, slipping it off from underneath her shirt and cuddling up next to York, tugging the blankets over all three of them.]

Just promise not to do it again, huh?

[She presses her lips against his cheek, and reaches down to where Wash is brushing his hand against her side, tangling their fingers together as she rests her head against York's shoulder.]

We need you safe.

And right then, black and white and yellow flares around Gamzee's hands, digging in painfully, forcing his fingers back from Eridan's throat. Farther and farther the bursts of color and chrome force Gamzee back, and then a glowing shield forms around Eridan, encasing him in an impenetrable sphere.

Yellow words form in the air in front of Eridan's face as the disembodied psionics beat his former matesprit back.

This is why you don't take casual strolls outside of my tunnels, dipshit. Put on your communit now.

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Dark Future Meme

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