Alyxwen:

alyxwen:

theonwyndham:

LOCATION: a room - basement DATE: october 31st, 10:15PM WITH: @curiouscalculations & @alyxwen

Alyx found them, both Data and Theon, in a hidden corner, lips dangerousely close. Theon moved away first, slowly letting his hand go of Data’s arms. Blaming his previous alcohol consumption, once again, too close to the edge. The look on urgency on their friend’s face made the adrenaline rush clear some of the buzz going on in his head. That meant she had what was needed to access the door, probably.

They all got the information a few minutes later, Theon watching as the map in his armlet updated, a little red dot flashing. It came with hearing confirmation from Cosima. He wondered if the security was disabled, but left that to the expert hacker. If he had to evaluate her in regards of her performance in the last mission, the engineer did not have any difficulty admitting she was the best at what she did. If he had not known her previous actions to wield such destruction, Theon would have considered her an artist. But enough of that. They needed to focus on the task at hand, which was to get in and investigate the content of that secret door.

Next thing he knew, everything was pitch black.

Door locked behind them. No way out, no way in. Only the smell, pungent in every way, coming through the cloth plastered on their face let them really know where they were. Down the staircase that seemed to never end, the smell was even more horrifying. The muffled sounds of screaming above their heads let them know they needed to act fast. They were not the only ones needing to deal with the sudden death of lights. Theon was suddenly remembered of those moments when younger, visiting the museum. All those security alarms, the darkness that could enveloped all the place if one misstep was made. It was probably a similar procedure, but instead of a room, it was the whole manor. Turning his head to Data, his hand touching lightly the android’s hands. “You need to find the switch. They’ll know we’re here.” It was a simple trick, all lights going out everywhere, including upstairs, meant that the owner would know something was up. If they had more than one room like this one (he hoped not), hopefully the intruders wouldn’t be found too easily.

Making sure that Alyx was still close to him, the last thing he wanted was a repeat of the previous mission, for both his companions, he made his way tentatively. Even their armlets did not seem to be enough to light some kind of path. They needed to get the lights up as soon as possible.

Though her task was urgent, Alyx had to hide an immediate smile at the dazed, soft look on Theon’s face as she joined him and DATA. It was undoubtedly irresponsible to become overly intoxicated during a mission, but she trusted him to be safe, and it gave her joy to see him carefree – a change from his usually worried self. “Orion,” and here she blushes softest pink, only hints of it showing beneath a mask that she is very grateful for at the moment, “gave me the DNA. You have the voice, I believe?” 

The group moves quickly into the room, unlocked thanks to what the other groups had collected and Cosima’s expertise. Speed was of the essence, and Alyx was truly happy to be paired with those she worked extremely well with. There would be no squabbles over minutiae with Theon and DATA, only a cohesive accomplishment of what they sought to do.  ( It would be different if she were paired with, say, Seneca or Fox, both of whose perspectives differed greatly from her own. ) As the door closed behind them, the lights flickered once, before shutting off, leaving the trio in total darkness. It swallowed them up, and as Alyx took a single, deep breath to combat the claustrophobia that threatened, she became aware of a vile smell all around them. It was familiar, sickly sweet but rotten, and though she was immediately put in mind of a species of flying creature who fermented their meat before eating it, it nauseated her, the close and air-tight quarters making the smell much more vivid than it had been in a wide cave. And there remained the concern of its origin – as obviously no batwing kiros lived inside this mansion. Deal with the problem at hand, she thought to herself.

Nodding at Theon’s suggestion, and following his train of thought, she tapped out a message to Raven, letting her know of the cause of darkness. Stepping forward gingerly, silver boots brushed against something on the floor, something that squishes rather unpleasantly, and she shudders. “DATA – listen for any humming noises, something electronic like a control pad. There has to be some way to turn the lights back on if this is intended as a trap.”

@curiouscalculations

A drunken smile, stumbling footsteps, and the slightest swaying posture were gestures DATA never thought he would find himself of the receiving end of from his creator. But he knew it couldn’t last. Their moment of peace, only awarded in the absence of everyone else, was quickly shattered by the approaching form of their fellow crewmember. Bearing news of a mission DATA would rather forget if not for the urgency it required, DATA watched as she delivered the items needed to continue with the task at hand.

DATA allowed himself to be led through the motions of opening the door and shepherded into the room, taking note of the various lock mechanisms that littered both the hinges and the frame of the door. Whatever was placed under the security of the cold metal door and the cramped concrete walls was not to be disturbed by curiosity. Calculating eyes watched the heavy metal swing shut when suddenly the lights began to flicker before plunging them into complete blackness. Darkness, for DATA, had never been a hindrance. His vision adjusted accordingly with an ease evolution had never granted humans. He watched as Theon reached for his hand, moving his own to meet his creator halfway.

Looking around the room, DATA ignore the vile smell and graphic image of decaying bodies tinged green in the darkness of his night vision. They could not be helped now as any semblance of life would have left them long before the crew’s arrival, and so they could not call for any of their concern. Instead, he searched for the power source or any type of switch that could be engaged in order to return the mansion to its previous well-lit glory.

“This way,” he ordered, slowly leading the group through the maze of decaying flesh and broken bones. Without blueprints or plans of the mansion’s design, DATA would be forced to follow the suggestion Alyx provided and listen for the familiar hum of electricity.

The further they ventured into the room, the more suffocating the mixed scent of death and decay became.  DATA had the ability to hold his breath with little consequence; however, the other two would not be so lucky. Turning around to assess their wellbeing, DATA allowed his fingers to move up the soft flesh of Theon’s arm with the soft touches of concern. “If either of you is made unwell by the scent, I can continue alone.”  

➳ do you have romantic feelings for Theon?

➳ do you have a self lubricating ass

➳ how badly do you want to fuck theon

“I- I don’t have such a desire...” 

Waking after what was assumed death was terribly similar to waking after creation; but unlike the lab his first fluttering eyelids opened to, the scientist inhabiting the lab he suddenly found himself in were not soothing in touch nor words. Where Theon’s voice had been soft in the lyrics of his reassurance, the scientists currently looming over him spoke with a cool calculation, eager for discovery and ignorant of the consequences experienced by that which they were discovering.

Sharp edges cut synthetic skin, flinching away from the surprising presence of something eerily similar to blood; but neither shock nor consideration was enough for the scientists to cease their search of a control panel necessary for every android’s ability to function. Instead, the scientists continued their intimate exploration of the intricate wiring system present beneath his skin. Whispered praise accompanied every new instance of pain, yet DATA remained still in the binds that held him to the table. He did not wish for them to know that such sensations were possible by something they held no concern for.

It was not until the persistent hum of electricity joined the careful procedures that DATA allowed himself to reveal the emotions he had learned. Fear was something he rarely experienced, pain less so. However, the sudden shock of electricity overwhelming his systems broke the impassive mask placed over his features until a gasping grimace was all that was left. The writhing of his limbs only resulted in tighter bindings as they continued their task of finding a way to manually reset his code to match those of the countless other mindless droids they employed.

In the end, it was easier to pretend that they had been successful.

---

Jolted laughs of cruel humor, sharp slurs of half-bitten insults, and barbarous echoes of barked conversation reverberated through the hollow halls of the prison, creating a chaotic cacophony that invaded every sense with an unwanted, overwhelming welcome. Each cell brought a loathing leer or piercing glare from those that were confined by the cool, steel bars. The other androids, mindless in their existence, paid no mind to the din that surrounded them, staring ahead with empty eyes and unbroken gazes. DATA, in contrast, would still jump at the occasional unanticipated noise; however, such a motion had to be hidden from the watchful gaze of the prison guards.

The routine imposed upon the robots rarely allowed room for irregularity. DATA had grown used to the absent-minded state that was expected from him, following orders to gather at the prison dining hall without a curious query as to why. His gaze, inhumanly blank without the occupation of higher thought, did not divert to the raucous noise surrounding him lest the threat of reprogramming resurface upon the sight of his obvious discomfort. Androids were not meant to feel uneasiness- they were not meant to feel anything.

A slight stumble faltered his movement as his leg caught on the outstretched limb of an inmate, a man smiling with an innately animalistic brutality that accompanied the cruelty of finding amusement in others’ suffering. Although DATA had learned many emotions over the years since his creation, he had yet to master the skill of masking such emotions from playing out across his features. Fright, for what they would do to him for something as simple as a stumble, widened his eyes and tugged his lips in a downward motion. An apology, unwarranted and unwanted, was stopped at its beginnings by the influence of the corrupted code of the prison. Staring at the man for merely a moment more, DATA quickly turned to take his place among the other droids at the table.

An unanticipated touch to his shoulder resulted in a violent flinch, his body moving away from the perceived threat before his gaze could register the recognition that accompanied the sight of a friend. The pressure of a friendly touch, absent in the loneliness of his prison sentence, brought a shocked smile to his face. “Cairo?” he asked, unable to accept the reality that perhaps some of the crew had survived beyond himself. Shaky arms slowly found their way to the soft curves of her spine as he buried his nose in the familiar scent, washed out by the mandated products of the prison but still persistently present. For the first time since his arrival, DATA allowed himself to feel the first tendril of comfort.

date & time : november 16th, 4:58pm location : purgatory; the mess hall  status : with @curiouscalculations​

The last thing she remembered in the golden room was almost making it. 

A dark-eyed man with the grin of a wolf stepped into her dreamland, but this time she recognized him. She locked eyes with Kit Beisel and all of the air left her lungs. She ran to meet him, but the cores of his pupils glowed red-hot. They became a flash of fire and light and Cairo was thrown painfully against a wall. 

She woke up in handcuffs.

— 

Their prison was an organized monster. Columns of rooms lined every wall, weaponed guards chaperoned the halls, but more imposing than the imagery was the noise. Chatter was an infernal dinn here, but at least the shouting meant there was life beyond her four walls. Most days were incomplete without the sounds of swearing and sobbing. It brought her home. Suddenly she was back in the chewed-out terrain of Brora F31. She was back in the death machine that was war. Because what was home, after all, if not the place you would know deaf and blind?

The familiarity was useful to her. She knew what horrors to expect here, and made no effort to postpone the inevitable. She knew that sniffling was futile, and it would only further her wardens’ irritation. So for the first few days, she was all ice. Her demeanor was completely still, completely numb. Brow together, brooding. She sat with her silence in the corner of her cell, with her arms wrapped tight against her chest, because maybe if she thought hard enough, maybe if she bit her tongue, losing Kit wouldn’t feel like a ripe gunshot inside and out. She tasted blood and tried to remember his voice. Tried to remember his rich cadence and any information that might bring him back to her. He couldn’t be dead for two reasons. One, because Kit Beisel would never do that to her. And two, because she didn’t know how she would live with herself if he did. 

For the first few days, she walked stoic and slow. Her attention wavered constantly, but her soldier brain did manage to pick up a few details. It noted that the prison was short on kitchen staff — not desperate, but short. The prison was understaffed generally, or at least her section of the prison was. The only guard that patrolled her hall rarely checked on her, but when he did, he sucked his lip and stared. And that was the catch. Cairo let him. 

In her state, she struggled to kick herself back to life. It helped that a day in, the officials put her in the kitchen. Being in front of a stove allowed her the privilege to show the prison how useful she could be for them. She cooked flavorless filth into something edible. For the first time in years, she was told, the prisoners didn’t gag when they ate. Being in front of a stove also reminded her of several things: that she was imprisoned, but not a prisoner; that she knew how to escape places like this; and that she was furious.

She stood behind the serving table, spooning thick syrup over a prisoner’s plate when another cook nudged her in the ribs. “Look,” Carmelo said and pointed at a troop of androids entering the room. His Mandarin was brightened by a thick Mantoda accent when he spoke. “Those are the robots I was telling you about. The ones the prison reprograms to work for them. They come from every star you can name, Cairo. I dare you to find two that look the same.”

Cairo brought her gaze up to Carmelo’s twinkling compound eyes, then to the droids — to the twelve speckled bodies made of metals and plastics, marching neatly to one of the tables and sitting there. Cairo saw one stumble slightly, glimpsed his face and everything stopped. Everything. “I have to go,” she breathed. “Take this.”

Carmelo started to protest, but Cairo had already handed him the ladle and was making her way to the androids. For the first time since she arrived, hope was in her step. Finally she reached out and touched the arm of the only frightened one at the table. She only knew one android who knew the meaning of fear. When his eyes met hers, Cairo exclaimed and pulled DATA into a crushing embrace.

sleeping at last, i’ll keep you safe