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towerofanimus2011-09-04 02:06 pm
2nd-dii2ciiple.livejournal.com) wrote in towerofanimus2011-09-04 02:06 pm
Freedom Can Be Confusing
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2nd_dii2ciiple & whoever would like to talk to him!
Setting: Room 2-08 and surrounding areas
Format: Any!
Summary: He's... not quite sure what to make of this
Warnings: slightly broken troll ahoy
The first thing he noticed when he woke was that he was not where he was supposed to be. There was no sign of his control block, or the biowires that should have connected him to his ship. The constant ticking of the computer in the back of his mind was gone as well - he wasn't connected to anything at all.
Panic tried to encroach as his conditioning insisted that he needed to get back to where he belonged right the fuck now, but he fought it off. He hadn't brought himself here, so it wasn't his fault he was disobeying. And flailing around in blind panic wasn't going to get him back to his station any faster.
Besides, if he was very lucky, this might be his opportunity to finally break free of his punishment of slavery. He'd almost lost hope that this moment would ever come.
The distress of finding himself dressed in plain white without even the tiniest indication of his symbol was enough to distract him long enough to read the letters and scout the tiny room. Thankfully a cursory search was more than enough to reveal the clean change of clothes waiting for him in an otherwise empty trunk, and he changed quickly.
Not a single hole for the biowire connectors. No sign of his hated helmet. He felt more like the Ψiioniic than the Helmsman, for the first time in nearly a sweep. Although he couldn't remove the collar, and he assumed the blue colour meant he was now owned by a blue-blood of that shade. It was actually a fairly ingenious method of identification. The problem was that he had no idea who it was, or where to find his new master.
Or, for that matter, why the Condesce would have suddenly decided to sell her most powerful Helmsman.
Time to find out what was going on.
Outside the room he found himself in a corridor full of doors just like the one he'd come out of. He turned to look back at his door, and saw a list of names, presumably the occupants. His was the last.
Right above it was a name he'd thought he would never see again. The Signless.
Just the sight of it was enough to send his panic rushing back in on him, intensified by the forbidden name. He reeled against the wall, staring in shock and disbelief. It couldn't be him. The Signless was dead.
And a part of Ψiioniic had died with him.
2nd_dii2ciiple & whoever would like to talk to him!Setting: Room 2-08 and surrounding areas
Format: Any!
Summary: He's... not quite sure what to make of this
Warnings: slightly broken troll ahoy
The first thing he noticed when he woke was that he was not where he was supposed to be. There was no sign of his control block, or the biowires that should have connected him to his ship. The constant ticking of the computer in the back of his mind was gone as well - he wasn't connected to anything at all.
Panic tried to encroach as his conditioning insisted that he needed to get back to where he belonged right the fuck now, but he fought it off. He hadn't brought himself here, so it wasn't his fault he was disobeying. And flailing around in blind panic wasn't going to get him back to his station any faster.
Besides, if he was very lucky, this might be his opportunity to finally break free of his punishment of slavery. He'd almost lost hope that this moment would ever come.
The distress of finding himself dressed in plain white without even the tiniest indication of his symbol was enough to distract him long enough to read the letters and scout the tiny room. Thankfully a cursory search was more than enough to reveal the clean change of clothes waiting for him in an otherwise empty trunk, and he changed quickly.
Not a single hole for the biowire connectors. No sign of his hated helmet. He felt more like the Ψiioniic than the Helmsman, for the first time in nearly a sweep. Although he couldn't remove the collar, and he assumed the blue colour meant he was now owned by a blue-blood of that shade. It was actually a fairly ingenious method of identification. The problem was that he had no idea who it was, or where to find his new master.
Or, for that matter, why the Condesce would have suddenly decided to sell her most powerful Helmsman.
Time to find out what was going on.
Outside the room he found himself in a corridor full of doors just like the one he'd come out of. He turned to look back at his door, and saw a list of names, presumably the occupants. His was the last.
Right above it was a name he'd thought he would never see again. The Signless.
Just the sight of it was enough to send his panic rushing back in on him, intensified by the forbidden name. He reeled against the wall, staring in shock and disbelief. It couldn't be him. The Signless was dead.
And a part of Ψiioniic had died with him.
no subject
"Don't kill me, pleathe, don't, I-I'll behave, I'll be good, oh god I'm thorry," he babbled, breathless and almost keening with the tightness in his windtube.
no subject
"I..." he said, and then just stared at the adult troll for a moment. Fuck this was weird. Fear was a KIND of respect, he supposed, but he didn't know what to do with it. It was completely foreign. He both loved this, being taken seriously, and was vastly unsettled. "I'm not gonna kill you," he said finally, crouching down and putting a hand onto Ψiioniic's head. "That'd be upright ridiculous, and a fuckin' wwaste."
no subject
Fuck, in some ways, that was almost a worse prospect, Ψiioniic realized. At least if Dualscar killed him, it would be over quickly. Being back in his service meant the high-blood could draw out his punishment - forever, if he felt like it.
There was only one thing he could think of that might potentially save him. "M-mathter, I'm sorry but... I... belong to the Condesce now," he said breathlessly, barely able to force the words out. "I can't jutht... come back to you."
He just wouldn't mention that he was supposed to be embedded in the Condesce's ship at the moment, and hope Dualscar didn't ask him what his orders were and why he was here.
no subject
no subject
Cautiously Ψiioniic peered up at him, and blinked. An adolescent? Why did Dualscar look like a child? Ψiioniic's vision twofold showed him the present and the future, not the past. Quickly he tried invoking his future vision, and sure enough the adult he saw perfectly matched Dualscar... though without the double scars across his face that had given him his name.
And when he released it again, he was still looking at a young troll. "W-wait, you're... not Dualthcar?" he said, confused beyond belief.
no subject
Wait.
"Hold on a fuckin' moment, you're not talkin' about my Ancestor, are you? Or howw wwould you evven knoww, really. You belonged to Dualscar? Wwhich wwould probably mean you're not actually Sol, then."
no subject
That left Ψiioniic at something of a loss for how to treat the child. He was still a purple-blood, but he wasn't actually Dualscar, so that made it easier for Ψiioniic to resist his conditioning. And children generally weren't allowed to give orders to slaves, though certainly disobeying royalty was never a good idea.
He raised his head a little more, actually meeting the boy's eyes. "I don't know who 'Sol' ith," he replied hesitantly. "I'm called the Ψiioniic. And yes, Dualscar owned me, thweeps ago."
no subject