Theonwyndham:

theonwyndham:

location : ororidge, camp settlement date : august 25th with : @curiouscalculations

Trust me all the way Trust me so I don’t have all this doubt I just want to be I just want to let my demons out

The stars above them still shone faintly as the night came upon them, bringing a cold wind with it. Here in the strange world, time seemed to be slower. The night arrived, but the sun stayed. Time stopped, coloring the sky with strands of dusk. In all its brutality, Ororidge was still more generous than all the places he’d been too. After setting their place, Alyx and him, Theon could not help but taking a moment to admire the view. It was actually a nice change from Wrotham and the ship. Seeing a world practically untouched by human hands. How out of place he was, the boy obsessed with technology and robots. The camp was settling with a certain kind of domesticity behind him. Voices low, conversations were kept to a minimum. It had not been a full day, and too many conflicts had already erupted. They felt all small, in his opinion, under the immensity of the clear sky. Unimportant.

A quick look behind him told him easily that his presence was not required anywhere. Alyx was already engulfed in one of her encyclopedia, and Theon couldn’t help the small smile on his lips. He wished he could erase the memory of her from a few days ago, shaken to the core, so distinguishably not her. A small word and a nod from her part was all it took him to leave the camp. They settled near a small hill, in the hope it might cover them from the unforgiving wind. Theon slipped out of the captain’s gaze, used to be unnoticed. To be alone. Too many times did he wander through the corridors of the Concord, not a glance spared his way. He remembered how it never happened on his previous job. People always whispering, always judging. If it happened now, most did not bother to keep it to themselves. They mostly did not care about him. Theon mostly did not care about them also.

An eye for an eye.

The engineer did not spent too much time outside camp, though. The sunset did help calm him mind from the anxiety of being in close quarters with too much dangerous people in a potentially dangerous location. Perhaps, if he dared trust Ororidge, the feeling of dread eating at his guts would soon leave him. After what could have been half an hour, Theon made plans to go back to the camp. Turning on heels, his heart barely quit as he fell face to face with Data. “Fuck!” The swear, unfamiliar on his tongue, jumped out of his mouth. He took a deep breath, calming himself. “What are you doing here?”

Unfamiliar constellations lay scattered across the sky, twinkling in the twilight as the sun slowly gave way to the inevitable persuasion of the night. Soon the brilliant hues kissing the sky with the forlorn hesitation of a tentative lover would fade, the temperature touting an unbearable heat under the watchful gaze of the burning sun would give way to the chilled night, and the bustling sound of the busy desert would dissolve into an eerie silence interrupted only by the soft breath of sleep.  DATA would watch it all, as he always had - the vigilance of his robotic design allowing him the ability to remain alert when the rest of the crew required rest.

However, before he could succumb to the mundane routine of a likely uneventful night on the strange, new planet, DATA knew he had to acquire Theon’s attention. For hours, the crew had marched across the desert; and in that time, the frustration of a broken joint had grown to full blown irritation. Unable to be of use in carrying the heavy weight of his assigned pack, DATA had been forced to accept the aid of his fellow crew members to continue on their trek; his knee threatening to give out once again at any attempt of obtaining his previous pack.

It did not surprise him to find Theon on his own, staring over the vast expanse of the desert in the pensive melancholy way that signaled deeper thought. He loathed to interrupt the introspection humans so often required, but initial orders of alerting his creator to any damages would not allow for any hesitation.

A curse, one exclaimed out of surprise, was foreign on Theon’s lips as DATA came face to face with him. The flash of sympathy that shot through his frame was quickly overcome by the reluctant anger that still lingered in the aftermath of their argument. “I require your assistance.” The grudging tone that invaded his words advertised the obvious disinclination that still permeated any feelings toward his creator. “The juncture in my right leg has become misaligned and requires repair.”

Team 1, RIP

Thane: Y'know, Doc, you'd make a great human shield.

Thane: Over and out.

Nyena: Fair point. Over.

Kallia: Theon's lap dog would make a better shield.

Augustus: Not that I'm supporting anyone being used as a human shield, but isn't he made of metal?

Augustus: Much better shield material. Over.

DATA: Perhaps we should attempt to negotiate with them instead of initially engaging in violence. Over.

Mirroring situations like you're an imitation Do I watch and repeat? And as if I tried to, I turned out just like you Do we watch and repeat?

private channel : DATA & THEON

Theon: Don't be stupid, DATA.

Theon: You're not- you're not expendable. You're not just a machine.

Theon: I'm sorry. I'm sorry, god, please. Just come back to me. I'm sorry about what I said.

DATA: Not- [GUNFIRE] No need [STATIC] apologize... Eli...[STATIC]

DATA: --Build a new [STATIC] ...loss of...

kalliawexler:

marching on, and on, and on.

There’s purpose to her gait, spine straight and shoulders pushed back. She does not match the exhaustion painted across the features of her crew; perspiration seeping from every pore and silhouettes stretching outwards across the dunes. Though they rub at their temples, tangle their fingertips within the knots of their hair, there is a substantial potential laced between each individual. 

They are willing, they are ready, they are a team.

To work as the latter was an unfamiliar notion; as a newborn’s first breath, it came with comfort, it came with caution. She is overzealous at every corner, doubts their abilities, but she does not kneel before the inaugural sign of strain. If she must survive alongside those of all purposes, then may she do so with an oath for success.

There’s a question which departs from the another’s lips; it’s unforeseen at first, not many seek the assassin above those with a radiating warmth. She croons her neck to the side, there’s a flash of wariness in the depth of dark eyes, quick like the spark of a match, before it deflates and she sinks back into her ordinary state. Though this an instinct notched within the pillars of a survivor’s spine, she reminds herself of her company. 

This is DATA; android of kindness, of kinship, of something so human. Their insides may be symmetrical at every corner, sculpted from durability and vigour, but the world has not crushed him into something harsh and tumultuous. 

“No.” There’s enough of a pause to wonder whether the conversation had ended. “I’ve never ventured outside of Wrotham.”

Too busy staying alive. 

“I managed to swipe this before we left,” she pulls a crumpled display of directions from her back pocket. It’s littered with fine print, colour-coded directions and still most are unaware of its existence. “Y’know, just in case they’ve got their own marketplace here.”

Discounted goods, she hoped.

“What about you, does your owner let his pet go outside occasionally?”

A quick nod pulled the bottom of his chin toward the vulnerable flesh of his neck, an obvious action affirming his understanding of their already ending conversation. Such a simple answer, absent of further explanation evident in the awkward silence filling the humid air between the pair, was impossible to be misinterpreted even when paired with the frequent ignorance DATA retained in regards to social etiquette. Fingertips danced across the warm flesh of his palm in a learned expression of discomfort, fidgeting with a frightening likeness to the humans that surrounded him. Yes, he certainly should have selected the weather as a topic of conversation.  

The map was offered as an olive branch, a way of scavenging DATA’s feeble attempts at conversation. Staring down at the colors coding various words highlighting landmarks and roads alike, DATA felt the feeling of confusion overtake his features. “Why would you wish to venture to their market place?” Amber eyes were weary as they studied – memorized – the map displayed before him.

A scowl overtook his features, lips crushed together in a downturned curve of anger. “I’m not his pet,” he spat back at her, the bitterness of his words hidden beneath the cool cadence of offense. “I can go wherever I wish.” The proclamation of independence, ill advised with the retrospection of a rational mind, were words of impulse. DATA knew he would be unable to disobey a direct order from his creator; but in the absence of conversation under the hurt still felt by both parties, DATA was free from the restricted regulations that often accompanied Theon’s concern.