ph_logs | Mingle - Emergency Potluck

It was never empty rhetoric when Tayrey had complained about not having the choice to die. She meant it. That was the final choice, for any Tradeliner in truly intolerable circumstances. She had won that choice back for herself, she thinks. Tayrey slipped from life in the night after telling Clarke the last of her secrets. Let go. Relieved of duty at long last - and found that her captor had no more hold on her. That she had the choice to die.

And, having the choice to die, she made the choice to live. To accept the contract offered, to do what it took to find the way home, knowing that no matter what lay ahead, she was no longer a prisoner. Her fate was in her own hands again.

She closes the distance between herself and Fever, reaches out to clasp the other woman's hand.

'Our mission succeeded,' she says softly. She has no knowledge of any of the events after her death, but that they're here feels like proof of that much. 'We're finally free of that place.' Her words are cautious, still, because at the very least Fever must have died to get here. Not an uncomplicated victory - but by comparison to unending captivity, or the bleak and empty terror of the Nothing? This place is one she can hold to with both hands, saying that probability smiled at last.

Edited 2024-03-07 08:01 (UTC)

"Yes. Yes."

In a way, Ari's correct. The mission did succeed, though it was tangled and complicated and something that in her deepest heart, she's glad Tayrey was spared. The anguish would have been too much to bear, after everything. Instead of dwelling too hard on that, she clasps Tayrey's hand back, and smiles, the relief clear in every inch of her face.

"I...don't remember all of what happened, around the end. Nearly dying made it hazy, I think. It's supposed to clear up with a bit of time."

A gentle disclaimer, that she can't give all the details at present - but then again, her brain's always been a wreck. Her amnesia, her headaches, those weren't secrets. There was always the risk that things would get foggy in difficult circumstances, and that only time and rest would bring it back to clarity. What she can recall cleanly is open information, but right now, soaking in the joy of being released and having a friend back predominates her mind.

"But the fact is, we got out. Gods, it's good to see your face again."

'It's alright, you don't have to...' Ari is quick to reassure her. Whether Fever doesn't recollect, or doesn't want to talk about it, she won't pressure her for any information. That Fever is here is enough.

The truth is that Tayrey is ashamed of herself, the desperation, the way that in the end she spoke so openly of her raw pain to people who could never understand it. Pathetic, really. A proper Tradeliner should keep her feelings private. Tayrey had been under too much pressure, suffering far too much for far too long to hold up. She hadn't had the strength that she needed.

She is resolved to do better. To mend the broken pieces. Not to let the horrors of the past keep affecting her. Her hands aren't shaking now; Fever is safe. Ari Tayrey isn't a hugger, and she doubts the other woman is either, but with her free hand she reaches out and touches Fever's arm. An old Tradeline gesture. Comfort.

'It's good to see you too,' she says, and tries not to think about the faces she hasn't seen, the others that matter to her. 'It's - oh, I feel like I just got the last place on the last shuttle off a failed colony, you know?' She has nothing. Everything is unfamiliar. There will be so many challenges to overcome - but she is alive and free and she's allowing herself to feel the joy of it. Her smile now is bright and honest.

When she remembers, she'll figure out how to tell it all. Even the parts that sting - because Tayrey deserves that honesty, to know what occurred afterwards. To know that even in the face of someone who didn't deserve any of the courtesy the lieutenant would have brought, that they had still fought to be unshackled. That her spirit had still lingered in their minds. But mixed up and hazy as she is, she won't fight to tell it now.

"No kidding. I think I spent a half hour just walking around to enjoy being on solid ground again. Everything in my eyes is so utterly welcome."

There are those that haven't fallen into her view yet - those that she will remain hopeful to see again, or at least that they have some sort of peace - but sorrow is an old friend, and liberty is newer, and there will be time when she lays her head down at night to contemplate that.

"Have you eaten? Everything's fresh, and no one's standing on ceremony about it. I have, but I don't mind waiting for you."

She'll hear fragments, soon enough, but Ari Tayrey is still fragile. Better for her too that the full story can wait. Not that it ultimately matters - they're free! And if one is being cynical, what's one more death to those people who signed up to kill each other in a sport tournament and made light of it? They'll have to do more reckoning with their humanity than she will, one way or another.

The young lieutenant shakes her head at Fever's words. 'I never lived on the ground,' she says quietly. This place is better than the nightmare ship by every measure possible, but it's all alien. Like someplace she'd stop over at for a few days before taking to the skies again. 'But it's very welcome, yes.'

She hesitates. 'I ate a little. I brought the fruit.' Fair contract, Tradeliners don't take handouts. 'I'm not all that hungry, if I'm honest. Want to take a walk?'

Truthfully, given what the doctor had mentioned offhand to Fever, it was likely appreciated more than Tayrey would know. That particular problem will percolate until it yields some results days later with an offhand comment. But for now, she just nods. Aside from waiting to see what other new faces would trickle in, there's not anywhere else to be in particular.

"Lead the way. Wherever you want to go, I probably haven't seen yet either."

Tayrey's not sure where to go either, but at the very least she has a good sense of direction. She heads away from the square, walking on the grass but keeping a path in sight for now. There are trees up ahead in the distance, and she can't deny that even for a spacer they're a welcome sight.

'Do you suppose they'll reach here? All the others?' She asks the question in the most carefully neutral ways she can. There are some she longs to see again - but others whose current absence is a great relief.

"...Truthfully, I hesitate to speculate. There are those I'd greatly wish to see - Arthur, for one - but others may find death a welcome peace after everything."

And not to mention those she would have instinctive problems with if she ever saw them again. Clarke may have been doing what she thought was right, but Fever still wants to break her jaw for it.

"We can only do what we can while we wait to see. Try to find the ground under our feet and help them with this problem." A little exhale. "It's such a relief to know everyone thinks it's a problem."

Instead of the internal divisions of before.

Clarke was acting with Tayrey's full support. Sometimes you have to be able to make the tough decisions. Of course, Tayrey's death made her support or lack thereof irrelevant, but she thinks fondly of her. It's because of Clarke that Tayrey died peaceful. For a given value of death.

She doesn't think of the other young woman now, but she does speak softly. 'I was nearly one of them. Ready to... let go. Stop fighting. Told myself death ends all contracts, if I want it to.' She shrugs, fractionally. 'I guess there's a part of me that's too damn stubborn, wants to get myself home just to prove that djinn bastard wrong,' she says.

'Arthur deserves to be here. Deserves a better life. And Crichton, and Cassandra, and... all of ours, who never gave up.' Tayrey pauses, and she very nearly speaks Tradeline words for the dead, but she catches herself, because maybe they aren't. Maybe they're just late. So she'll hold those words for now, and the others that Cassandra de Rolo gave her. 'You're right, there's still hope, and in the meantime, there's plenty of work to do.'

She might have left it at that, but she trusts Fever, and some things are easier to say while walking, while you don't have to look too close at a person's reaction. 'Still, shared objective or not, I'm keeping clear of most of the rest who made it out. For my own safety.' After Maximilien and Siffleur, nobody can begrudge her that.

"Are you looking for protection, Tayrey?"

It's a careful word choice. Not to say she needs it, not to presume that much, but the offer extended all the same as coming from a friend. While Fever doubts that many of the ones she knows have come through would hold such grudges, the probability is never precisely zero. That, and she'd be a right hypocrite to proclaim that when she still holds her own bitterness.

"You may have taken everything on your head, but not a soul could find anything amiss in a friend standing for a friend."

Her own part in the launch, she still wants to bury. Until there's time to gauge how badly this might harm any idea of connection.

Tayrey holds up a hand, stops walking, turns to Fever. 'I want you to know that my word holds,' she says quietly, 'and I'm still taking that responsibility.' She doesn't want Fever to be hurt the way she was, and she's doing her best to view it practically. It's a test of character. Anyone who would condemn her for trying to escape isn't someone she should ever trust anyway.

'But I don't need protection here. I needed it before because my wounds were severe. I couldn't have defended myself if I needed to. Now I can, and I want... I want to leave that hell behind me, Fever. I'm not going to tell the new people I meet anything about it, and the others I'll stay clear of. Honestly, considering where they'd be if not for our actions is satisfaction enough for me.' Stuck on a dying prison ship, with only Nothingness ahead. The road out might not have been easy, but if not for Tayrey and her people, she thinks, it wouldn't have been there at all.

"And what about when they want to come and speak to you of their own accord?"

Her tone remains calm, not accusing. This isn't her trying to push Tayrey into a corner and force an answer, it's genuine concern. There's only so many places to be on this isle, and there are going to be those that want to speak to her in the aftermath of it all. And the lines will eventually be connected, with enough time.

"Though, whatever you decide for yourself, I give you my word I'll respect it. We'll never even speak of that place again, should that be your determination."

'I try not to make the same error twice,' says Tayrey, and her voice is soft but there's an edge of solid determination to it. 'You can speak to me about whatever you want, always, and I'll hear you. So far as I know we're the only two who made it out, and that means something to me.' The only two from their group, however fractured it might have been by the end. A bond forged by terrible adversity.

'I won't lie and say I don't worry about those people, but I can't live under protection. It's no life for me and it wouldn't be fair to you. If they come for me, I'll tell them I don't want to talk, and walk away. If they don't let me go-' Tayrey frowns. 'This is a place of code and order, Fever. At least I take comfort in the fact that the locals won't look at the victim of a brutal assault and blame her, ask what she was thinking by angering someone stronger than her. I'll do my best to stay clear, but I can't control everything, yes? There will always be risk. I have to live with that.'

And she'll stay especially clear of anyone who turns into an animal, because she's been told she was foolish to think that a veneer of civilised courtesy counted for more than the underlying attitudes of a wild creature - and Arilanna Tayrey doesn't make the same error twice.

There's a streak in her that wants to insist that they might not come as foes, but fellow survivors. As those who were seeking others who lived that nightmare, because it's different to explain it to those that weren't there. But she gave her word, and it is Tayrey's choice - something that matters more than Fever's own emotions on the matter. So, she nods, in acknowledgement and understanding.

"...We can put some faith in the ones that are here before us, at least. It says a lot about them that even after winter being a trial they unhesitatingly came to our aid."

Which, she's still musing on the problem of. More people means more mouths to feed means things that need to be structured, and other things that are suitable for people a lot smarter than her. But she knows how Tayrey thinks, so she adds on:

"Likely to them it's fair contract, since we agreed to help with their problem - provide us the basics to get settled and make sure we're not scrambling for food and shelter, so that we have the ability to do as promised."

It's just as well. Tayrey's still hurt. Damaged - and although she loathed her captor, he never actually spoke to her. It was always her fellow prisoners tearing her down and trying to destroy her hopes. Right now she has no sympathy, solidarity or kindness to extend to anyone who didn't show her any in her darkest times.

She smiles, faintly, because she can see Fever is genuinely trying to reach understanding, with that talk of fair contract.

'I'll say,' she answers quickly, 'that I know my customs aren't everyone's and I don't think badly of you or anyone else for not following them when dealing with others. But to me, the contract I agreed to was clear. My life and my return home in exchange for whatever assistance I can provide with the town's problems.'

A pause, and then, carefully: 'Beyond that, I don't take charity. Or tribute. Or anything other than fair exchange. I already have a temporary job and I'm working on lining up a better one, at which point I'll settle my bill at that tavern. It's important to me. It's a matter of pride and dignity and freedom.' It's what set her apart from others at Cardalek, her unwillingness to sit back and rely on family money, to live the life of the idle rich. This director's daughter doesn't shy away from hard work.

'How are you managing? With getting settled?'

Fever listens, because that's what she can do. Listen respectfully, carefully, to what she's saying. Just because she personally doesn't agree with it in all respects doesn't mean it's less worthy of being heard. It makes her think of listening to Lae'zel, to a woman whose life and culture were unlike what her scant ghosts of memories offered up, who nevertheless would explain, so long as she knew it would be heard. Still, she tucks this knowledge in the back of her head - who knows when it might come in useful? When seeing the divide between the life the lieutenant has led and the life Fever herself has led will be critical to know?

"A little out of sorts, but I got a job offer back there. Two, actually, but I decided on being a clerk for Town Hall. Worst that can happen is I find out I have no patience for the work and figure out a graceful exit. The work comes with housing, so it wasn't a difficult choice at all."

Tayrey practically beams at her, hearing this news. 'Two job offers! Fever, that's wonderful. Congratulations. Good for them, for recognising your talents.' She knows not everyone places as much value on work as she does, but this feels important all the same.

'Looks like you made a sound decision,' she goes on. 'See if they'll let you pick one of their vacant properties, don't let them assign one or you might get the worst available.' Which Fever probably knows already, but Tayrey has to be sure.

Then she looks at the other woman again, tilts her head. 'I've got to say I never pictured you as a clerk, but I expect the failure there is my imagination, not your abilities.'

Ari's joy for her sits warmly in her chest - even if she doesn't have the same discipline as the other woman, it's still nice to be congratulated. She'll feel the same, no doubt, when Tayrey comes and speaks of her own work and accomplishments. To the comment on properties, she nods - she doesn't know where they'll send her, but Fever thinks there should be options, based on what was said.

"No, it's a surprise to me as well, in a way. I thought I'd have to take on odd jobs or tasks, or perhaps something that required combat knowledge." Which, she could have looked to the enforcers, but the day she voluntarily puts herself there will never come. "But if this is where people are needed, and I'm not picky, then it'd be foolish to pass it up just because I'm not accustomed to the work."

A thought comes, and she laughs. "Who knows, perhaps somewhere in my missing past, I did some work like that, and it'll come back to me when I try."

'I think that's an admirable attitude,' Tayrey agrees. 'Moral problems excepted, any work is better than none at all, and if you find you don't care for it, you can always try something else. It seems there's a shortage of workers here.' It's true that there are plenty of jobs she wouldn't want to do herself, but most of them would still be preferable to having nothing to do.

Her enthusiasm doesn't dim. 'I'm sure you'll pick it up quickly, regardless. The administrative side of my job shipside is... not my favorite part, I'll be honest, but it's all reasonably straightforward.'

Now, though, there's something else she has to ask. Her voice softens. 'Did you remember anything else about your past? I wondered if arriving here might have repaired whatever's preventing you from recalling it all.' If it could heal Tayrey's wounds, she reasons, maybe it could do that too.

At the question, Fever's face falls, and she looks away. There are the things she remembered before it all went haywire, the things she has to add to her tally of wrongs committed. Things that she knows very well if she was to utter would alter Tayrey's perceptions of her so fully that the young woman might never trust a soul again. They happened, Fever admits. They happened, and they live upon her as her weight to carry, her burden to bear. That, she will not lie about.

But they aren't things she needs to talk about to the unprepared. Much less someone who wants to think the best of her. So she swallows them, places them back in the numerous things she might never speak to a single person about. Perhaps one day, when she's ready to set the torch to her connections, or it's dragged from her.

"A little, after you disappeared, but...I think that whatever happened to me, the bulk of things are lost and always will be. Not a curse or something else blocking me from seeing them, but damage done and survived. Coming here hasn't changed a thing."

A breath, so Tayrey might get distracted from asking what she remembered.

"There's a scar, at the back of my head. I didn't dwell much on it for a long while, but with time to think about it? It's a very straightforward answer, isn't it. Some kind of accident, or an attack. But I'm a bit too stubborn to simply die."

'I'm sorry,' says Tayrey softly, but of course it's projection, it's imagining how devastating it would be for her to lose her own past, all the things that matter to her, and imagining how she'd cling to any clue that she found. That she thinks Fever to be the same isn't wholly without logic; her need to escape the ship and go home had seemed to mirror Tayrey's own, with not dissimilar motivations.

She doesn't ask what Fever remembered, but it's a deliberate omission, because if Fever has the space to talk about home and doesn't, Tayrey shouldn't pry. Instead she lightly touches the other woman's arm. 'I'm very glad you survived it. It sounds like something we could have at least tried to fix back home, but it'd be ludicrous to attempt brain surgery here even if we did have someone qualified.'

With a shake of her head, she adds, 'We're all too stubborn to just die. It's brought us this far, yes? We'll find a way through. Do you... do you want to know what happened? Who attacked you, if that's what it was?'

The touch is a surprise, but a welcome one. Her expression softens minutely at it, knowing it for the comfort it's meant to be.

"I have suspicions, but...right now, knowing would do nothing but make me want answers from someone who isn't even here, and who would be unlikely to ever come here. If I'm to know for certain, I'll let it come back to me in time, so that I can deal with the knowledge when I'm not also trying to sort out what happened to earn us our freedom."

Reasonable, logical. And not mentioning how she'd want the most bloody revenge against the perpetrator.

"You think you really could fix it, back in the Tradelines? I'd take at least getting rid of the headaches...though everyone would have to put up with me asking about nearly everything in sight."

'Not me personally, but a specialist doctor planetside? Very possibly.' She sighs. 'I know it doesn't do any good talking about it, when there's no way to bring you there, but if I could I'd just say you were from somewhere real isolated, and then everyone would be happy to answer all the questions.'

Fever is someone she trusts, someone she'd take shipside and vouch for to her captain. If such a thing were possible, and desirable. 'But I hear you,' she goes on to say. 'Knowing now and not being able to take action would frustrate me immensely, for sure. Only...our freedom wasn't earned. It was stolen from us by that bastard, and we took it back. Are you worried about the finer details? I don't remember them, but it's enough that it happened.' She'd been in a haze of pain; she doesn't remember much of anything after Clarke left her.

She just nods, taking a deep breath.

"I'll always be a bit unsettled about the parts I don't remember. It's things like...I remember my hands hurting like they had been burned, but not how they could have been burned at all. Until I know the shape of it, I won't stop longing to understand it. If that makes sense."

When your memories were already something to hold onto with every bit of strength, them getting jumbled further was distasteful.

"Anyway, I can't make them come back any faster. Better that I come up with a convincing way to sell myself as an isolated amnesiac colonist to your doctors. Perhaps I was caught up in a technological accident that also destroyed my identification."

'It makes perfect sense,' Tayrey assures her. 'There are gaps, you can't fit them, you're going to wonder. Speculate. That's natural. I'd be unsettled as anything too. I hope it clears, soon as it can.'

Her suggestion for presenting herself as an amnesiac colonist makes Tayrey smile, though. 'Out in my sector, sure, we'd just say you were from the old frontier. A lot of unusual things happen out there these days.' Hardly surprising, now that it's no longer fashionable and the delight of would-be investors. 'For the real frontier effect, if anyone dares ask you for identification? Tell them that you know your Charter rights and you won't stand for pushy Tradeliners thinking they run the whole sector. You don't carry it and nobody can make you!'

Her words are half-teasing, but if Tayrey's mocking anyone, it's the hypothetical overbearing Tradeliner, not the Charter-reliant colonist.

Mingle - Emergency Potluck

<3 yes I had to give it a go! Great to see you here!

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