dualislogs | All Work and No Play

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All Work and No Play

Who: David Alleyne, OTA
What: Explorations, Investigations, and... Grocery Shopping?
Where: Television Station, Dorms Area, Local Grocery Store
When: Early to Mid July
Warnings: None, Will Update as Needed

Investigations

This wasn't what he'd expected to be doing, when he'd first woken up upon arrival. Of course he hadn't expected a lot of things other than his life being more complicated after the New Year's Eve party. However, he had agreed to help Hank, and that meant David was trying to follow the path to answers that Hank had outlined. With no real access to bomb details that meant the broadcast source, the television stations. It had taken a few days for him to pinpoint a starting location, especially since David kept getting inexplicably lost for someone with as much skill at finding paths as he had. Still, getting to a place didn't mean he immediately had a route in. Which meant David was looking at the building from a cafe across the street, casing it for how to get in.

Explorations

'Tattoos Inside! Get Ink and Fabulous Powers At the Same Time!'

It was an advertisement that David assumed had to do with the voucher he'd received on arrival, but that didn't mean he knew quite what to do with the claim. He had looked a few times at the scant number of examples on the poster, but all of it seemed so... impossible. A tattoo to allow you to fling fireballs? Who's ever heard of such a thing. Surely the infection you could get would be horrible too. And yet he's seen so many people here with things like this.

And part of him... part of David longs for what he sees. To be useful again, in a new way. Wasn't that what he'd wanted for years?

"Dammit," he curses under his breath.

Shopping

It's been the worst week, and frankly? David deserves a bit of an indulgence. His new job sucks almost as hard as his old one, he hasn't made nearly as much investigation progress as he would have wanted, and frankly? He's getting tired of the food in the dorms.

One of these he can solve. One of these he is solving, and doing it by a grocery trip. HE has all the skills and knowledge of an award willing chef. Like hell he isn't going to use them for some comfort. Which in this case means David going around a grocery store to get ingredients. A simple pasta primavera should be lovely, and that means carefully considering produce and cheese. And since he doesn't want to mess with it, a nice crusty bread for the side.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And now the Hulk just got name-dropped as a real person. Okay. Just uh... you know what? That's fine, too. Only a touch nightmarish there's a giant green living moodswing out there.

"Was the ghost stuff a mutant related thing or did he just decide not to fuck off after he died or-"

There's some complications here that he never thought he'd be asking. But he's in a fucking place full of weird ass aliens and magic and he really needs to learn this stuff. "...I take it Skrulls are aliens?"

Of course Bruce Banner is a person. Truth, Hank, is far stranger than fiction. And Xavier's academy had been attacked because Hulk held Charles responsible for the death of his wife. That's weird.

"He teleported as the school exploded. He became a ghost. But with the same powers still. So he kept going to school. And the Skrull are an alien empire, green creatures that are shape-shifters."

Hank could practically listen to David talk about his home with a mild look of bewilderment all day and be very interested, if not perpetually confused.

"Yeah I was thinking that or a term for some disease-carrying bug. You've done a lot, huh? What do you do for fun? Just like, normal stuff fun. I remember music and the strong opinions on pizza. What else? Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Bad influence friend?"

There has to be more to this kid's life than getting bombed and fighting aliens and learning the proper ways to punch people.

Fun? David just looks at Hank. What was fun? He hadn't had anything like that in a very long time. Except, you know, the brief version of it that he had in those moments between the horrors.

"I guess Tommy was a bad influence friend. But we knew each other two days. But I was alone back then. I'll be alone here as well. The work will be enough to pass the time."

"No! No no no. You gotta at least go get a fuckin' book or somethin' while you're out. Not an instruction manual. A funny autobiography or a fictional thing. Or some craft supplies. I can come back to you when I have more info. This person isn't someone that's gonna get caught by leaving a hot trail. They know better. They're a person that's gonna get caught with common acquaintances familiar with the tools they use.

"I'll even pitch in my credits and help you get it. But you gotta actually do an enjoyable thing. If you don't, you start-"

He makes a motion around his head. Fucking words... Words are assholes and sometimes all that comes is a jumbled thought.

"-You need something. Or I can say, after doing this for a few decades, if you leave it alone it definitely gets to be a bit too much."

Thing is, he doesn't want to relax. He just wants to find a way home. Find... something more than another miserable job on another miserable world. David shoves his hands into his pockets and just keeps walking.

"My job is miserable and I'm doing a lot here. There isn't really time to rest."

"What the hell kind of work do they have you doing?"

Still, this poor kid deserves a scrap of time to himself. More than that, he's seen what happens to wayward teens. Ones with too many expectations, the ones that are driven to break because of the sheer lack of freedom to have one thing that's really, truly theirs. Even if it's just a hobby or an idea or just fucking something.

"Tech support," David groans. If there was ever anything in his life he hated more than Tech Support, he figured it was probably something to do with how Scott Summers apparently went mad with power in the whole 'fuck it all, mutant homeworld, make up a mutant assassin force, etc'.

"I hate tech support so much. And it's a full-time job. Add in this and a few other favors I'm doing..."

He shrugs. Life sucks, he's used to it.

"I'll apologize in advance for the day that I call for some assinine technical shit that I couldn't wrap my brain around."

That is a job that is nothing but stress and suffering and ungratefulness.

"Not an easy job. You get the verbal version of shit thrown at you that I get. Every fuckin' time there was a Detroit riot back in the teens? Rotten vegetables. Sometimes literal shit. I got no doubt that it's that bad."

But that's beside the point.

"At least consider it, alright? Postpone a favor here and there. It's not worth breakin'." He still holds on by his fingertips sometimes, and sometimes he feels himself slip.

"So long as you promise not to wreck our friendship by not listening to me when I give you instructions on troubleshooting," David throws right back at Hank. He can preemptively tell someone off for stupidity? And not get fired? Down for that. And it sounds like Hank is from a future where there is plenty of tech, the guy should be able to handle himself.

David might be wrong.

"Answers matter, Hank. But I'll see about maybe trying to figure out something else to do sometimes."

"They do, but... answers matter to a point in not just becoming a machine meant to perform tasks. If you do that, then you're not a person anymore. You're just this thing meant to solve problems. You need to be more than that."

There had been this moment where Connor was on a rooftop. He could have chased an android, or he could have saved Hank, teetering off the edge after having been shoved. He'd chosen Hank rather than chasing answers. He suspects that David is the type of guy that would turn back and save a friend. But sometimes you have to save yourself.

"...And yeah, I'll try. I admit, I fuckin' suck at technology. Fuckin' pairing me up with an android was one of the stupidest stunts that my captain coulda done." But he sounds fond, anyway. Fowler didn't choose poorly.

Oh, but people view their tech support as machines performing a task. And people like to curse machines. So yes, he is just a thing meant to solve problems. But it's not like he has a reason to go out.

But Hank isn't wrong. David would save a friend. But he has issues with loss of friends. And faith in being able to find an answer later.

"And yet you seem happy at the choice."

"Yeah, well..." he sounds pretty fond still, "Turns out that tech is pretty good at self-repair so I figured I'd keep him around. I just uh... hope he doesn't think I abandoned him. I mean, the alternative isn't great either. He'll be lookin' for me. But maybe if he at least has Sumo with him- Sumo's my dog -he can focus on something. I don't wan to go back and find out he didn't have anything. That happens to androids sometimes, that get abandoned."

He gets weirdly flustered with his worry there, and he actually fidgets with his hands briefly, wearing a concern that definitely goes beyond just partnerly.

"I mean, we could just be computer simulations," David suggests. What? He doesn't mind throwing that out there. Still, he doesn't think it seems likely. Just because why would the computer in charge care about simulating people and lying to them?

Still, David hopes that partner of Hank's has the dog. Give him something to keep going for. Because abandonment... that hurts. David knows it has to.

"Forgive me if it's prying, Hank, but... Could I ask you to tell me more about this partner of yours?"

They're still walking, still wandering the streets. Perhaps it isn't the best conversation for such a situation, but clearly Hank has some things he might need to get off of his chest. Perhaps the man just needs someone to talk to. And dammit, David can't get fully out of psychology mode.

"Yeah, still a possibility. Still think I'd be pissed off over it, though." He dips his head a little.

"Uh... He's a pain in the ass. He's got a lot of social ticks that drive me nuts. Doesn't get half of the world's average humor, likes playing with a coin, looks like a fucking GQ model and I've caught himself preening in a mirror too many times- I am not gonna let this fucker live it down. He came into an interrogation room, stood his ass right in front of me, and fuckin' groomed himself in the two-way mirror." He actually laughs a little at that, a pretty rare noise out of him. But it fades.

"He'll do the right thing in the end. He'll go past what will logically solve the problem in the quickest way to what would be the best way for everybody. He deserves better than to wait, you know? Or think I fuckin' bailed on him. He had me. I was never gonna leave him."

"You cared for him," David observes. Let Hank read as much depth of emotion into the statement as he wishes. In fact, what he says is half designed for the fact that that he wants to see how much was read into it.

Can learn a lot about a person based on the people they care about, and how they describe him.

"Sounds like someone I could get along with."

"Yeah, I did..." He says thoughtfully. Then there's the stumbling. Not physical stumbling, he's walking just fine, but it's like a train of thought starts rolling through his brain and he's scarpering forward like a hero trying to untie a captive admission from getting crushed on the tracks. "I mean, I don't like him that way. I just care a lot about him. I needed a partner and he's a good partner, and I don't even know if he can uhhh... because... android... Not that it matters."

One day, one day he'll manage to get his whole foot in his mouth. The entire thing.

Oh yes, the guy is clearly a touch smitten with his own partner. And from what David's heard of the guy, he definitely counts as human.

But the foot needs to get out of his mouth, that isn't wrong.

"Well, in a year you can go back. Get back to your life."

"That's the problem. I said androids don't too well on their own. But it's really, really bad. I've seen how they live if they don't have some guidance. It isn't good. They'll just hold up in whatever abandoned place they can find and fuckin' sit. Connor might try to look nice but he doesn't... He can't think about how to take care of himself without some direction. He fixates. Sorta like someone really high on the spectrum, y'know?

"I'm the only human friend he's got. So I'm just gonna hope he's takin' care of the dog. At least it's somethin' he can work on and he won't just sit and wait or helplessly look for me. And I've not heard any word we go back to the time we come from."

He gestures angrily. "As far as I know this piece of shit might find it easier to just incinerate us and go 'oh yeah, sure, we sent 'em back.' I've not seen proof of anything yet."

He's been harboring a lot of doubts and anger and general resentment. But he'll swallow it down to help people. Right now, the ones here matter.

Now that is a dark and depressing thought. The lack of Hank in his world might lead to the ceasing of a person. A well and true person. That isn't good. If he could find a way to send Hank back, he really would. Would without a moment of hesitation.

"There is always the chance of that. If it helps, I am doing my best to look into things. However, I cannot say for sure that I'll manage to find anything. The computer tech here, that which makes up the Head, it is very, very advanced. And I've known a lot of extreme computer systems, and this one is a different beast altogether."

Granted he hasn't tried to tunnel into a lot of truly sentient AIs.

"You've got enough to worry about. I was just feeling angry, I guessed. Helped to have someone to listen." It's a shitty, helpless feeling in the middle of a place where the one person who listened before, who asked, was a universe away.

Oh, right. X-man. Of course David wants to fix it. But also he's used to a whole other school of people. And right, he's lost his place without them, even before here.

"You can't do all that stuff alone, by the way. You're gonna need other people to help you, eventually. I don't know that I can discourage you from piling so much up on your shoulders but believe me, there's always a few other motherfuckers willing to help out with something or another."

One good thing about being a cop. Usually he could count on his other officers. "And maybe these people doing the bombings will know." Even if he hates their tactics, they could have something useful.

It's been a while since David had a school of people to back him up. He's used to being lost without other people, he's been lost for so long. Hank isn't even remotely wrong about that. David was so lost he didn't even know he couldn't find where he was.

"If I find them, I'll ask for help. As it is, I'm not sure I can really go through a cop. Who knows if we'll remain on the same side of things."

"Look, my unit was great. They were fucking amazing guys. I'd have worked with them for the rest of my career if they hadn't moved me from narcotics to homicide. But a lot of the guys I got the real prize information from? The bookie who handled my sports bets. The ex-cons that I got to know after they got out. The bartenders and club managers I got chummy with.

"You're right. Sometimes a cop can't help you. Sometimes it's the fuckface friend you make that's constantly shit-eating-grinning at you after they pull a fuckin' stunt."

Hank, though, is still a cop.

"And I am happy to be their filthy pig. I'd rather it be me than somebody that'd be strong armin' them for money. The balance works. You got your helping helpers. And you got your calculated risks."

Narc cop? Interesting. David gives a very different look to Hank as he considers that. Perhaps it makes sense. Hank was older, not as good for stings or busts.

Shit-eating-grin that pulls a fucking stunt. David frowns. Wow how that reminds him of Tommy. Of Josh. Neither of whom he has around. Makes him feel a bit nervous to think about them. He doesn't want to fall back into his PTSD.

"Life is about calculated risks. Dealing with you is one of mine."

He almost doesn't mind. He collected some gnarly scars from his narcotics days. A knife wound here, a bullet there. Shrapnel from a meth raid gone very, very wrong.

"Yeah, that's what working with a cop usually is for most of those guys, too. I really do just wanna make everything a little bit better. Still not sure what 'better' is here yet. The Head's not making a great impression."

But the terrorists aren't either.

All Work and No Play

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