Drugs, [ he slurs, drawing thumb across tongue as though to taste the grit of the ground upon which he'd been thrown as he spits it from between his teeth; foisted out of the back of a belabored and archaic vehicle into the streets before arriving ( by kind graces, blah blah ) in the safehouse, be it by virtue of some kindly soul or under his own steam.
it is there that he takes stock of things: the first matter being, that all of his things - uniform, gun, hair - are gone. not even a trace of them remains in his memory, not even the hindbrain, the place where all important things are tucked away for later use ( everything is used ). over the basin of one of the communal sinks, he runs his thumb over her mouth where the lip has been split by the drunken swan dive onto the pavement below, palms scuffed and filled with gravel in a way that makes him feel
alive? how quaint. and before him stands a mirror, the reflection --
he looks away, uninterested or unwanting to see whether or not the reflection matches the exterior. cheris's body is a lean, yet slight thing. he turns his hands over and touches his thumbs to his pinky fingers, twists the wrists and flexes his forearms. ] Mm, [ he can be heard saying, with a woman's face and a woman's voice: ] not quite bendy enough for my tastes. Have to work on that.
[ those same hands grip the (small) chest below the shirt, before a peal of laughter - edged and exhausted - seems to burst forth from his throat. after the laughter passes, he spends time wiping the remnants from the corners of his eyes and calls out to the rest of those in attendance: ]
Does anyone have any idea where I could buy a decent bra? I want something black and racy. Something that screams 'expensive' and fancy.
[ cheris wouldn't know fancy if it lifted its skirt in front of her and winked coquettishly ]
002. RESOLUTION DAY
[ the worst of the day's humiliation takes place during the laser tag competition in the streets; he signs himself up as a lone participant, and within an hour, has lain waste to three well-organized teams and several lone wolves. the digital sensors clipped to his body, visible in augmented reality, seem to shimmer and blink in and out of existence at random, the result of a clever work-around that he's performed while still keeping with the spirit of the rules ( "no hacking of the sensors", his ass; "sensors must be visible to competitor eye", his two left feet ). and now, with sensor gun in hand, he holds another of the Displaced at triggerpoint -- mirth sparkling in his eyes. ]
It's tape. [ he holds up his wrists and jerks his head to his shoulders and chest, where a glossy 'x' has been taped over his dark shirt: ] Anti-interference conductive tape, that's all. Want some? It's all in the spirit of the rules, I do solemnly promise.
[ the latter half of the day, there's no more games.
at least, none of the games are being played physically. inside of that head of his, dark hair shorn short and pixie-like across his skull, there is at least seventeen different iterations times six different ideas free-flowing throughout his attention. the source and focus of all of them are the UNA soldiers and their virtual reality simulations. the entire day has been all too familiar to him, a systematic celebration of triumph - streetwide observances by the majority of the population. it's calendrical, even if the world itself is far too unadvanced to support the math for it. ]
What are the UNA really like, do you think?
[ he leans over and asks it of the nearest Displaced, clearly fishing for some sort of response from them in the information. ]
Do we have anybody on the inside with them? Just curious. Asking for a friend.
003. NETWORK WILDCARD
[Bad username or site: tsera @ vel]
Remind me again: we're NOT leaning into Morningstar's brand of rebellion… why?
( OOC: TL;DR for the canon but Cheris (female) and Jedao (male) are a singular, amalgamate entity. Pronouns will currently be he/him in introspection, as it appears that mentally, Jedao is in full control after Cheris's mental death. Long story. )
shuos jedao (?) | machineries of empire
Drugs, [ he slurs, drawing thumb across tongue as though to taste the grit of the ground upon which he'd been thrown as he spits it from between his teeth; foisted out of the back of a belabored and archaic vehicle into the streets before arriving ( by kind graces, blah blah ) in the safehouse, be it by virtue of some kindly soul or under his own steam.
it is there that he takes stock of things: the first matter being, that all of his things - uniform, gun, hair - are gone. not even a trace of them remains in his memory, not even the hindbrain, the place where all important things are tucked away for later use ( everything is used ). over the basin of one of the communal sinks, he runs his thumb over her mouth where the lip has been split by the drunken swan dive onto the pavement below, palms scuffed and filled with gravel in a way that makes him feel
alive? how quaint. and before him stands a mirror, the reflection --
he looks away, uninterested or unwanting to see whether or not the reflection matches the exterior. cheris's body is a lean, yet slight thing. he turns his hands over and touches his thumbs to his pinky fingers, twists the wrists and flexes his forearms. ] Mm, [ he can be heard saying, with a woman's face and a woman's voice: ] not quite bendy enough for my tastes. Have to work on that.
[ those same hands grip the (small) chest below the shirt, before a peal of laughter - edged and exhausted - seems to burst forth from his throat. after the laughter passes, he spends time wiping the remnants from the corners of his eyes and calls out to the rest of those in attendance: ]
Does anyone have any idea where I could buy a decent bra? I want something black and racy. Something that screams 'expensive' and fancy.
[ cheris wouldn't know fancy if it lifted its skirt in front of her and winked coquettishly ]
002. RESOLUTION DAY
[ the worst of the day's humiliation takes place during the laser tag competition in the streets; he signs himself up as a lone participant, and within an hour, has lain waste to three well-organized teams and several lone wolves. the digital sensors clipped to his body, visible in augmented reality, seem to shimmer and blink in and out of existence at random, the result of a clever work-around that he's performed while still keeping with the spirit of the rules ( "no hacking of the sensors", his ass; "sensors must be visible to competitor eye", his two left feet ). and now, with sensor gun in hand, he holds another of the Displaced at triggerpoint -- mirth sparkling in his eyes. ]
It's tape. [ he holds up his wrists and jerks his head to his shoulders and chest, where a glossy 'x' has been taped over his dark shirt: ] Anti-interference conductive tape, that's all. Want some? It's all in the spirit of the rules, I do solemnly promise.
[ the latter half of the day, there's no more games.
at least, none of the games are being played physically. inside of that head of his, dark hair shorn short and pixie-like across his skull, there is at least seventeen different iterations times six different ideas free-flowing throughout his attention. the source and focus of all of them are the UNA soldiers and their virtual reality simulations. the entire day has been all too familiar to him, a systematic celebration of triumph - streetwide observances by the majority of the population. it's calendrical, even if the world itself is far too unadvanced to support the math for it. ]
What are the UNA really like, do you think?
[ he leans over and asks it of the nearest Displaced, clearly fishing for some sort of response from them in the information. ]
Do we have anybody on the inside with them? Just curious. Asking for a friend.
003. NETWORK WILDCARD
[Bad username or site: tsera @ vel]
Remind me again: we're NOT leaning into Morningstar's brand of rebellion… why?
( OOC: TL;DR for the canon but Cheris (female) and Jedao (male) are a singular, amalgamate entity. Pronouns will currently be he/him in introspection, as it appears that mentally, Jedao is in full control after Cheris's mental death. Long story. )