cactusy: (the rarest jewel of all: victory over me)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-19 01:46 am (UTC)(link)
[The defunct subway car from their base rattles lightly as it trundles down the track; Shaw, unsteady on her feet, sways precariously, gripping the grab bar far tighter than any self-respecting New Yorker shoulder have to. She's barefoot, dressed in sweatpants and a tank top - the same ones the Decima folks stuck her in after they let her change out of the hospital gown - and there's an IV line dangling from her inner forearm, though the loose end isn't attached to anything. It doesn't make sense, but she doesn't even register it enough to question it. She's focused on one thing, and one thing only: the servers on the far side of the car. It is vital that she gets to them, because the Machine has a message for her - and right now, nothing matters as much as hearing it.

The car jerks hard to the left, sending her sprawling onto the floor. She growls, yanks the IV needle out of her arm, and pulls herself doggedly to her feet, determined to keep going.]
cactusy: (just choose a bed in Hotel Sadness)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-19 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's dead. Regardless of whether or not it's actually true, Shaw feels that she knows this for a fact, so she takes no time to study the body or feel for a pulse. She goes right to the Machine, pressing both her palms flat against the side of one of the servers, and exhales deeply.]

Say it however you want to say it.
cactusy: (oh my god you insufferable nerd)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-19 11:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[The IV line that Shaw had pulled out of her arm lies abandoned on the floor, but now she holds something else in her fist: a needle, filled with a clear liquid. Slowly, carefully she lowers herself to the floor next to the servers, back pressed against them, legs bent at the knee in front of her.]

Good timing.

[She murmurs to herself, cradling the syringe in her hands. She doesn't put it down, but she doesn't look ready to use it, either.]

Thank you. Can you give her a message back?

[Dream logic. She feels certain that Root is dead, but that doesn't mean she feels certain that she's gone.]
cactusy: (love isn't a triangle)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-20 12:11 am (UTC)(link)
I did know. I didn't know what to do with it, but I knew.

[She lifts the syringe and presses down on the plunger, expelling every last drop of sedative onto the floor.]

Tell her I wish we'd had more time.
cactusy: (just choose a bed in Hotel Sadness)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-20 12:56 am (UTC)(link)
[Shaw's skin is cold as she reaches up and takes hold of Definitely Dead Root, wrapping her fingers loosely around the back of her hand.]

I dreamed we were in this... simulated city. But we've been here the whole time, haven't we.

[Right here, on the floor of a destinationless, endlessly moving subway car.]
cactusy: (let the intrusive thoughts win)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-21 11:40 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't want to be kidding myself.

[She says the words slowly, turning them over in her brain as she speaks them out loud.]

I don't... want to hide from the real world because I hate the idea of facing it. But I don't know what the real world is anymore. I thought I did - sometimes.

[Eventually, in the weeks after Root's death and the days after Samaritan's defeat, she'd come to tenuously accept that she really was back in reality. But even then, she'd wondered sometimes. A part of her was always going to wonder; her brain had been wired to. And now...]

I hate the idea of being a captive, and I hate the idea of my body wasting away in a hospital bed while my brain is hooked up to a computer. I want being here to have a purpose.
cactusy: (I'm waiting for someone)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-22 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Thanks for the validation; now what do I do with it?

[The words themselves might be bordering on hostile, but her tone isn't. She sounds tired, and worn out - like she's genuinely hoping for an answer she hasn't been able to find on her own so far.]
cactusy: (my bloodlust is carrying me through)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-23 06:42 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't have a boss here. I don't have any goals. I'm here because of crimes I've committed, which isn't conducive to goal-making. And I don't make great choices when I set my own goals; you know that.

[One hand still holding loosely on to Root's she turns to face the servers fully, her knees bumping against the hard metal.]

So give me one.
cactusy: (oh my god you insufferable nerd)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-24 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
She doesn't give me purpose. That's not her job.

[When she feels Root's hand move, she curls her own fingers around it more solidly, giving it a squeeze.]

Root. Listen. Can you hear her?
cactusy: (yeet or be yeeted)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-24 12:39 am (UTC)(link)
Not, Root; it's not a dream. Listen.

[She gives Root's hand a tug, gentle but insistent.]

It's the Machine. Talking. To me.
cactusy: (yay‚ nightmares!)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-24 01:39 am (UTC)(link)
[Shaw immediately gets to her feet and reaches for Root in earnest - doing her best to steady her as she straightens up, making sure she doesn't just flop back down again, smoothing her thumbs over Root's shoulders.]

It's me. It's me; I'm here. I'm-- I dreamed we were in a weird city.

[And she's still there, isn't she? Aldrip feels like a dream, it is a simulation, and yet it feels very present-tense.

But at the same time, no, it can't be. This feels real, too.]


Root--

[Root doesn't give her purpose, but she does ground her, making her feel as safe and sane as is humanly possible. Shaw clutches at Root's shoulders, for her own sake as much as for Root's.]

Tell me where we are. Really.
cactusy: (oopsie-daisy)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-26 04:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[Shaw shifts around to Root's side and wraps an arm around her shoulders, doing her best to hold her upright. They're in the subway or they're not, they're in Aldrip or they're not, they're dreaming or they're not--

Her body stays perfectly upright and steady, but her head feels like it's spinning, and she clutches Root tighter.]


Because you're dead.

[She says, finishing Root's thought in the way she thinks makes the most sense. But she's still uncertain enough that she prompts her with--]

Right?
cactusy: (torture 2.0)

[personal profile] cactusy 2025-01-30 01:28 am (UTC)(link)
[It takes her a moment - but then the penny drops, and she puts a hand to Root's face, turning it to the side so that she can look at her fully.]

... You still think I'm missing.

[Goddammit.]

Root, no; that's not why this is a dream. I escaped; I'm back. You found me in the park.

(no subject)

[personal profile] cactusy - 2025-01-30 02:02 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] cactusy - 2025-02-07 01:14 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] cactusy - 2025-02-10 03:17 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] cactusy - 2025-02-13 15:23 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] cactusy - 2025-02-15 19:39 (UTC) - Expand