Takeshi Kovacs (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
resleeves) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
reverielogs2018-06-22 11:02 am
resleeves) wrote in reverielogs2018-06-22 11:02 am
i hear the voices getting louder
» WHO? takeshi kovacs + ota
» WHEN? throughout the weekend and next week
» WHERE? chapel, fitness area, bar, and various others
» WHAT? causing trouble
» WARNINGS? language but nothing else as of yet
[ he's not here to pray.
he's not here to do anything but sit in the quiet and think. it's been a few weeks since the arrival of the backpack (which sits on the bench beside him) and he'd thought, for a few hours, that maybe more things would arrive. maybe a gun or an oni or fuck, he'd take ortega herself showing up. but nothing else familiar arrives.
he's even started seeing less of quell. she's still there when he sleeps but the glimpses of her he used to catch from the corner of his eyes are happening less and less. he's not sure if that means his fragged mind is healing or getting worse.
maybe it seems she's alive somewhere. yeah right, what a fucking miracle that would be. he'd seen her explode and he'd probably walked on the ashes that had been her body as he'd tried to get off harlan's world.
while he's alone, he reads a few of the quotes off the wall and then reaches into the backpack to physically throw garbage at the ones he doesn't like (which is all of them). he knew that some of this shit would come in handy and making a mess was juvenile but he had fuck all else to do.
it wasn't like anyone would notice. this place was a mess anyway. ]
Well, this is just fucking boring.
[ ever since the new sleeve, he's never really done a lot of solo training. quell's training two sleeves ago had stuck and from then on, a life spent being hunted and taking out those he'd been paid to kill had left him in decent enough shape.
then, there had been the life sentence and over two centuries spent on ice doing absolutely nothing. ryker's death had left a physically capable sleeve behind even if it was a sleeve that she had a fucking attachment to, unbeknownst to him until he'd been wearing the sleeve for awhile.
he drops the backpack on the ground and circles the room, staring down at the pool and making a face. didn't look like any place he wanted to take a swim in. plenty of people had probably pissed in that.
these facilities were a long way from even carnage's shitty little spectacle. at least he'd had a cheering section and some competition. ]
Ain't none of that here.
[ of course he'd think that. of course. ]
[ even kovacs could tell the alcohol was running low. he kept expecting to stop in (during one of his daily walks through the station) and see more of it. but, that hadn't happened yet. bottles were half empty, knocked over and collecting dust.
kovacs spends some time behind the bar, remembering the one time he'd had a bartender who made some decent drinks before she'd up and disappeared. lucky fucker. if she wasn't here, she had to be somewhere better.
and yet, he's still here, stuck. one of the bottles he picks up and brings up to sniff is filled with something so strong that it burns the lining of his nose and actually makes him blink. ]
Smells like fuel.
[ which meant it was fucking perfect.
kovacs made his way over to one of the booths and laid down, long legs dangling over the side. the backpack was placed on his stomach and the bottle on the table. he stared up at the ceiling, wondering how plausible it would be to just kick his way out of this place.
answer: not plausible at all.
where was poe and his arsenal when you really needed him? ]
[ got something else in mind? feel free to make it happen. hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
spoonishly to plot! ]
» WHEN? throughout the weekend and next week
» WHERE? chapel, fitness area, bar, and various others
» WHAT? causing trouble
» WARNINGS? language but nothing else as of yet
001. chapel
[ he's not here to pray.
he's not here to do anything but sit in the quiet and think. it's been a few weeks since the arrival of the backpack (which sits on the bench beside him) and he'd thought, for a few hours, that maybe more things would arrive. maybe a gun or an oni or fuck, he'd take ortega herself showing up. but nothing else familiar arrives.
he's even started seeing less of quell. she's still there when he sleeps but the glimpses of her he used to catch from the corner of his eyes are happening less and less. he's not sure if that means his fragged mind is healing or getting worse.
maybe it seems she's alive somewhere. yeah right, what a fucking miracle that would be. he'd seen her explode and he'd probably walked on the ashes that had been her body as he'd tried to get off harlan's world.
while he's alone, he reads a few of the quotes off the wall and then reaches into the backpack to physically throw garbage at the ones he doesn't like (which is all of them). he knew that some of this shit would come in handy and making a mess was juvenile but he had fuck all else to do.
it wasn't like anyone would notice. this place was a mess anyway. ]
002. fitness area
Well, this is just fucking boring.
[ ever since the new sleeve, he's never really done a lot of solo training. quell's training two sleeves ago had stuck and from then on, a life spent being hunted and taking out those he'd been paid to kill had left him in decent enough shape.
then, there had been the life sentence and over two centuries spent on ice doing absolutely nothing. ryker's death had left a physically capable sleeve behind even if it was a sleeve that she had a fucking attachment to, unbeknownst to him until he'd been wearing the sleeve for awhile.
he drops the backpack on the ground and circles the room, staring down at the pool and making a face. didn't look like any place he wanted to take a swim in. plenty of people had probably pissed in that.
these facilities were a long way from even carnage's shitty little spectacle. at least he'd had a cheering section and some competition. ]
Ain't none of that here.
[ of course he'd think that. of course. ]
003. bar
[ even kovacs could tell the alcohol was running low. he kept expecting to stop in (during one of his daily walks through the station) and see more of it. but, that hadn't happened yet. bottles were half empty, knocked over and collecting dust.
kovacs spends some time behind the bar, remembering the one time he'd had a bartender who made some decent drinks before she'd up and disappeared. lucky fucker. if she wasn't here, she had to be somewhere better.
and yet, he's still here, stuck. one of the bottles he picks up and brings up to sniff is filled with something so strong that it burns the lining of his nose and actually makes him blink. ]
Smells like fuel.
[ which meant it was fucking perfect.
kovacs made his way over to one of the booths and laid down, long legs dangling over the side. the backpack was placed on his stomach and the bottle on the table. he stared up at the ceiling, wondering how plausible it would be to just kick his way out of this place.
answer: not plausible at all.
where was poe and his arsenal when you really needed him? ]
004. wildcard
[ got something else in mind? feel free to make it happen. hit me up at
no subject
We have to make the best of what we've got. I realize that's easier for some than others, though. So you're right, someone's going to break at some point.
[ The fact that they have no method of dealing with that inevitability hasn't escaped her notice. There's no psychiatrist up here, no way to properly restrain anyone. They can't help each other in all the ways they might need... Maybe someone intended it to be that way. ]
What's your opinion of the theory going around that this is some kind of experiment?
no subject
The more time that we're here, the worse it's going to fucking be. Trust me.
( her mention of this station being one grand fucking experiment has him frowning. )
I think it's the right call. Has anything good happened to anyone here? Anyone gotten a fucking raise? A pardon?
( he could answer that one. the answer was fucking no. )
Or has it just people getting themselves fucking killed or hurt or messed with? We're mice in a maze.
no subject
But why? The last time I was experimented on, there was a purpose behind every test. What's the purpose behind these?
[ The scientists liked to tell her about it sometimes. And sometimes they didn't. Depended on the mood of the day. ]
no subject
( for once, he's deadly serious. it's happened to him before, someone torturing him just to get their rocks off. of course, dimi had also been pissed off about his stupid fucking twin but it had been for cruelty's sake above all. )
To see how we react. To see who goes over the fucking edge first. To see who begs for mercy.
( it was going to take more than this to do him the fuck in, thanks to quell. )
Some people don't need more than that.
no subject
You're a real cheery one, aren't you? All two of our conversations have been absolute sunshine and rainbows.
[ Not that she minds it in the slightest. It takes all sorts, and he's not the first person she's met with this particular dark outlook on life. ]