dualislogs | If I can't undo what's been done

WHO: Arkady + OTA!!
WHAT: Arkady can see the pat and future and other things when she wants to and she finally wants to! So if your character is new or you haven't been able to find a way to get your character some plot information, this could be for you!
WHERE: Dorms rooftop, Central Square Park, wandering streets at night
WHEN: Different times throughout December, feel free to specify a date/time you want.
WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, discussion of violence and murder, discussion of overdosing, drugs, existential crisis???

A. ROOFTOPS

Hank said not to blame herself. Not to beat herself up over could have been. But he doesn't know. Nobody knows. That's the problem when you don't really talk about yourself. Nobody really understands. There's so much she can do. Or should be able to do. Some things are all mucked up here. Teleporting has limits. It shouldn't. Projecting has limits. It shouldn't either. Back home she's pretty sure there's nothing she can't do. Especially together. Though she's not together here. It's just her. A thought she refuses to entertain for long.

"Work to be done." The sun's setting and so far she's been lucky enough to not run into people up here. She has her legs dangling off the side of the roof with her FreakAngels jacket crumpled up next to her. There's a bottle of alcohol next to her that's only half gone so far. "I haven't let myself look but it's time." Her eyes close and when she opens them back up they're glowing a bright white.

Images flash inside her mind. A man? Two men. The same man twice. Another person. A bot? Yes. A bot. Two more. Four more. Five? There's so much fear inside the man. A name. T? Travis. He's so scared. Oh no, oh...he's so so scared. The bots move to him and they start to--

Oh. Arkady's expression twists as her mind shows her the bots circle the man and then putting their hands around his arms, legs, and head. They pull like it's nothing. Nothing at all to them. They keep pulling, ripping his limbs off while he screams and screams. There's blood, so much blood, so so much and she wants to stop looking but she can't. There's flashes of other people being ripped apart. Limbs. Blood.

Finally she screams out loud and her eyes turn back to their normal violet hue.

"Is this how they do it...?" There's tears coming down her face as she reaches for the bottle next to her. "We're all super fucked."

A. WALKING AROUND THE STREETS

For once Arkady's got her jacket pulled tightly around her. It's not that it's cold. It's more that she's cold. It's getting worse. That much she's noticing the more she looks with her abilities. And that's what she's doing. She's walking around the streets in the afternoon and she's looking. Sometimes when she walks by someone her eyes glow briefly as she slips into their mind and hits the wall. It doesn't hurt as much as it did that first time. That's probably not good that she's getting used to the feel. It's like hitting your head against a steel wall over and over. At first it's shocking and it hurts. Her nose bled that first time. Now it's just numb and...scary.

She's scared. She pulls the jacket around her tighter as the realization hits her. Scared. A tiny laugh escapes her lips as she passes by another person that has the wall feel. It's a nervous laugh. How many people that have been brought here like her know about this? How many people realize the number of citizens that are replacements? The thoughts are weighing on her and she's not really paying attention as she walks and then bumps directly into someone with her glowing eyes.

"Oh, you're not--" she cuts herself off before shes says that they're not a replacement. "Sorry." She blinks, her eyes returning to violet, and then she smiles at the person. "It's good you're you. Stay you!"

A. CENTRAL SQUARE PARK- NIGHT

It's night when she goes to the park. Every time she's passed by it recently she's felt something off. Something wrong about it. A chill down her spine. There's whispering sometimes. Or she thinks there is. Maybe it's just something in her head. It's hard to tell all the time. Maybe she's really actually going crazy this time. Or maybe there's something there. Or something will be there? She's been getting bits and pieces for days. Or maybe weeks. She's so bad with time sometimes. It all blurs together. Answers won't come from outside the park though.

"Time to go in." She says to herself, holding on tightly to a bottle of vodka she's brought with her just in case. Just in case what? Sometimes it's overwhelming. When she steps into the park it's dark. Death. It's heavy with death and bad. Bad bad things. She moves further in and eventually just plops herself down on the ground without any concern for getting dirty. Or if anyone else is around to watch a bald girl with a bottle of vodka sit down in the center of the park.

One leg folds over the other, her eyes start to glow, and then she opens up to what there is in the park.

"I can't die now. Not yet. There's so much I still have to do. I have tot ell him I loved him." It's a voice she doesn't know but the voice is so frightened.

"I don't want to die like this. Please, please gods don't let it go like this." Another. Just as panicked. Just as scared.

"Who knew it'd end like this. I never imagined this would be how it all ends..." Defeat. That's all there is in that voice.

There's tears. So many tears. "Why is this happening? Why are you doing this to us?" The voice is pleading. Desperate. "Why?"

"No, no, please, please..." there's more begging. Invoking gods names that she doesn't recognize. Pleading. Death. Death is coming. Or it came. Or both. Why is this happening? What's happening to them?

Tears start to stream down Arkady's face and she chugs half the bottle of vodka she has with her and then lets out a scream. She can't help herself. It's anger and sadness all in one. She pushes a hand out and a force of telekinetic energy smashes a nearby tree.

"Sorry, tree. You didn't do anything," she says with a frown on her face. Anger doesn't usually get the best of her like this. Her eyes start to glow again and she reaches out towards the tree in an attempt to put it back together. The pieces move and push together leaving it almost like nothings happened to it at all.

"There. At least I can fix that." Even though it looks like they can't fix anything else here.

[ooc: ping me on discord at selkie#4018 if there's a different scenario you want to play out! If your character has psychic abilities or is able to sense things feel free to have them pick up on the spike of power. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You can make pun names! Like Just Beet It, use beet juice for a gin cocktail!" It's a horrible suggestion, but it's the first song pun that came to her mind.

She doesn't hesitate to pour herself a large amount of vodka and then drinks almost all of it in one go. If she was alone she probably would have just taken the bottle and drank from it directly, but she's not. So glasses it is. Despite her somewhat frail appearance, Arkady doesn't even seemed phased by the alcohol. She puts the glass down and then props her elbows up on the table and rests her chin on her hands.

"They aren't...them," she says in a very low voice. "You were attacked by another you, right?" She assumes so. It seems like everyone here was, even people who weren't brought here like them. "The ones that tried to replace us. People here have been replaced." She hesitates for a second, as if she's trying to gather up the right way to explain. "I can read minds. Telepathy." She smiles gently, trying to be comforting so it doesn't freak Tifa out. Telepathy seems to freak a lot of people out.

"When the robot me attacked I tried to read it's mind. It hurt though. Like if I ran my head into a wall. I've been trying other things since then. Experimenting. Searching. I can tell when someone's not them now and it's getting easier. Or maybe it's not easier. Maybe it's just too many people have been changed. "

"I'll have to ask everyone what their favorite songs are and try to fashion drinks from them," Tifa muses. She's assuming the 'Just Beet It' title is related to something musical from Arkady's world; she just doesn't know exactly what it is.

But all of that gets shoved to the side as the real conversation begins. Tifa tries not to look like they're having a particularly important or secret conversation and that she's just going about her normal duties at work, but her brow furrows in concentration as she listens. Telepathy isn't exactly common where she's from, though she understands the uses and as long as she doesn't feel like any personal liberties are being violated. Arkady's use seems to be mostly general and not invasive.

"So you sense that a lot of the people around have been replaced by those... other versions?" she asks cautiously. "Do you think there's a way we can find out just how many have been?" If they can get a rough number going, maybe they can tell when someone does get replaced. And maybe then they can start to figure out why.

"Let me know what you find out!" She tries to force enthusiasm in her voice, anything to make it seem like the topic they're really discussing isn't weighing her down as much as it actually is. There's a pause from her end as she fills her glass back up. After a second she nods in confirmation.

"Yes. I think there aren't many people-people left." Her tone is somber and definitely not attempting to make any secret of the weight of the implication. "Maybe. That's kinda what I was trying to do. I think..." She trails off and closes her eyes for a second as a frown tugs at the corners of her lips. She doesn't want to worry people more or make them upset but she also knows people want to know things. It's a strange position. "I think maybe there's only a hundred or two left."

"That's strange," Tifa muses, rubbing a spot on the counter with her cloth, like she's trying to clean it. The news is disconcerting and she doesn't know if the source is the most credible or not. Regardless, this doesn't exactly paint things in a good light. It's scooting more and more towards what she and Cloud have been afraid of.

"Makes you wonder why," she adds on. "Why bring us here and then replace us? They say they want to learn from us and rebuild the population... Is this how they're doing it?"

Even if not, this whole project has some serious Shinra vibes. She makes a note to ask Cloud if Shinra could be at all involved. But that also makes her think of something else and she turns slightly more towards Arkady with muted concern behind her eyes.

"Are you okay? I get the feeling that the Head doesn't like people who pry too much." She doesn't ask if Arkady is safe, but the unspoken question is definitely in the air between them.

"Maybe...maybe that's the truth?" It's a thought that keeps coming up, both in other conversations and in her own mind. "Maybe they want to rebuild their population with robots. They say there was a plague that killed everyone. Robots can't get plagues, can they?" She asks the question with an earnest tone while avoiding actually looking at Tifa. Instead she seems enthralled with staring down at her drink. She continues on, mostly musing aloud to herself. "They and it, the Head, it acts like maybe it regrets it couldn't save them? Or feels like it failed it's purpose because it couldn't find a cure. Maybe it's been alone a long time and figures that a cure might just be replacing people with better versions." Versions that can't get sick or suffer. Maybe it thinks it's helping. Or maybe that's giving it too much credit and theorizing too much.

She takes another drink and then smiles brightly. Perhaps a forced smile will do to give enough false comfort. "Nobody should worry about me We can't die." Or at least back home she can't die. So what's the worst that could happen? Truthfully, she knows she probably doesn't have that luxury here. Still, she says it as a way to comfort others, so that they won't be too concerned for her. In her own opinion she's the last person anyone should worry about. That's for very personal reasons that mix with deep issues that she rarely speaks of.

Maybe it is the truth, but it's a truth that almost makes Tifa shudder. That's the idea she's been getting from it all. Bring a bunch of people here, harvest their DNA, make flawless robots out of them and what they can learn, and then kill the originals.

And it's absolutely something Shinra would do, which doesn't at all help her misgivings.

"Might be," she agrees slowly. "That would make sense, in a way. Create a new population that can't get sick, hurt, or dead. But that leaves us in the lurch. If the end goal really is to replace us..."

If they really are to be whole-sale slaughtered once the Head has the population it wants, no one alive is going to stand for that.

Arkady's last words snatch Tifa's attention again and she regards the other with a careful, yet concerned gaze. Words like that don't ever work on her. The more someone tells her not to worry, the more she'll worry.

"Death isn't the only reason to worry about somebody," she points out gently, going back to scrubbing at the table. There are far worse things a person can be put through than death. Tifa remembers her last moments in Junon, almost being executed by Shinra. It had been difficult to deal with, difficult to handle even after the fact, but some of the other things she's been through have been worse in their own right.

"In a computer way, it'd make sense." Computers rely on logic. A computer that went through what the Head went through, well, it might make sense that it's logic would come to a conclusion like this eventually. In a way it's sad and there's a tiny, tiny, part of Arkady that could have sympathy for the Head if this really is the motivation and goal it has. She can understand the feelings of failure when a lot of people die and it's kind of your fault. The sympathy fades to the background of her mind though when she thinks about all the people it's throwing into the sacrificial flames in pursuit of replacing them. That can't continue, no matter what the motivation is.

She tilts her head and then offers Tifa a smile. Right now she reminds her a bit of Miki, always worrying about other people's health even though they were all so hard to kill. Or even injure.

"There are worse things than death, right?" she takes a drink and then looks off vacantly into the glass. "I've died before and been through worse than that before. It's okay. I'm tough!" She lifted her gaze up to try to meet Tifa's eyes with a highly forced smile. "I just want to be able to help everyone here. A few people have already been replaced, I don't want anyone else to be."

The implication is probably there lingering even if she doesn't outright say it: other people matter more than her. Maybe it's not the best way to think about things, but she's got a lot of guilt and self-loathing buried inside and it's the only way she can think.

If I can't undo what's been done

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