reverielogs | open ⇉ here we go 'round the mulberry bush

Entry tags:

open ⇉ here we go 'round the mulberry bush

» WHO? takeshi kovcs + ota
» WHEN? after the event
» WHERE? his room, bar, mess hall, various corridors
» WHAT? just fuck me up
» WARNINGS? violence, violent imagery, gore, possession, terrible things, language

( the ceiling is white.

the ceiling is white the ceiling is white the ceiling is white. he's been repeating that to himself for the last two minutes because nothing else is working. he's breathing. he's blinking. but he can't move. he's been staring at the fucking ceiling for long enough that he hates the color white.

at first, he thinks it's some side effect of the music but it's been quiet for a few days now. quiet enough that he'd been able to sleep in the wrecked remains of his bed. it's quiet right now.

the ceiling is white. kovacs blinks and

-- he gets up. )

⇉ 01. bar

( he's staring at the bottles.

most of them are empty, upended or broken and he's just staring like just his gaze alone will make alcohol magically appear in the bottles. but, they remain empty. hadn't this been someone's job, to get them more alcohol? hadn't that been assigned to someone as a top priority? wasn't there any fucking responsibility on this fucking station?

in the absence of alcohol, kovacs unfolds his long frame from the stool and finds himself some water.

sips it. finishes it. repeats the process until he feels his thirst receding. then, he resumes his spot on the stool and keeps staring.

thoughtful. introspective.

vacant. )

⇉ 02. mess hall

( a man has to eat.

there's a tray of food in front of kovacs that he's been picking at for a few minutes now. he barely tastes the food, barely even processes what he's eating but it's tasteless, inoffensive. whoever fixed the replicators did a halfway decent job. compliments to the chefs and all those fucking sweet nothings.

kovacs picks up one piece of food, brings it up so it's right in front of his eyes and then he flicks it towards the door, uncaring if anyone's making their way in and gets a fucking piece of food stuck to themselves.

one corner of his mouth lifts up and a brief, sharp laugh slips out before he's back to frowning, back to his food. )

⇉ 03. corridor cw: violence, violent imagery, gore, creepiness

( when he sees her, he smiles.

down the hall, a few feet away, lies the body of his sister. reileen. reileen who'd watched as he'd killed their father. reileen who'd been given to the yakuza. reileen who had left him. left him so along ago.

back where she belonged. with him. as he steps closer, boots echoing off the floor, he inhales deeply and smells the rot, the death. her hair is a halo around her head, some strands clinging stubbornly to her cheek and chin.

her eyes are open.

when kovacs is close enough, he crouches down beside her and rubs a tender, feather light hand over her cheek and up her forehead. her skin is clammy and grey. cold. she's so cold. she needs to be warmed up.

his hands are strong and assured when he reaches for her shoulders and turns her over. they're soft and efficient when he brushes the hair off the back of her neck, exposing her skin.

he has no knife. so he uses his fingernails.

with only the slightest tensing of his jaw, kovacs digs his nails into the back of her neck like a rabid animal. he scrapes and pulls, pushes and tears until blood spills over his hands, and onto the deck below.

he doesn't stop. an envoy's strength is significant and he uses that to brutally dig a gash into the back of his sister's neck. his thumbs pull apart the raggedly cut skin until he can see the muscle and bone below.

he reaches in and breaks her spine at the neck. the sound of bones popping echoes off the walls and kovacs moves those aside to grab what he's looking for.

with a grunt, he rips the stack out of her neck and holds it up. it's covered in blood and tissue, still glowing a brilliant blue color.

with his sister's neck open and smeared with blood, kovacs gets to his feet, turns and smashes the stack against the wall over and over again. blood from his hands transfers to the wall, leaving behind smudged bloody palm prints and fingerprints.

the stack cracks. it breaks. it bends. it shatters to pieces that fall harmlessly to the floor.

and then kovacs steps on them, grinding them down into his sister is reduced to dust underneath his shoes.

kovacs sighs. with that done, he turns back the way he came, covered in reileen's blood and body tissue. he tucks his hands into his pockets and walks off as if there wasn't a scene of horror behind him. )

⇉ 04. kovacs' room, corridor

( kovacs is a mess by the time he's back in his room.

well, that just requires a shower, doesn't it? stripping himself of his jumpsuit and stepping into the shower. he washes himself free of the bits of his sister that have clung to him and then he steps out, dries off, puts his clothes back on and lays down.

he closes his eyes. takes a breath and

-- gets up again. )

Fuck.

( the word is a whispered note of pain. of terror. of unbelievable anger. he has no idea what's just happened but he remembers it all. he remembers every fucking detail and with a growl that reverberates down the hall, he shoots out of his bed and down the hall.

he takes a path that he wishes weren't sickeningly familiar until he's standing at the end of the corridor staring at the carnage he'd just inflicted.

staring at his sister with the back of her neck a gaping maw and her body ignored and abused by the one person she'd trusted. by the one person she'd loved.

for once in his life, kovacs doesn't know what to do. )

⇉ ooc

( what's up, party people! just wanted to put a few notes down here for a few things. obviously, the first two prompts are kovacs but not. but, it's a very close replication and though i'm cool with people being able to figure it out, if you don't know him well, you wouldn't be able to tell there's a difference. if you know him well, you would.

in the prompt with his sister, you're not going to be able to stop him from doing what he does. feel free to witness it or try to stop but in the end, he's going to complete the process of destroying her stack.

in the last prompt, he's going to end up spacing the body (because safest, most hygienic option) but might need some assistance because, you know. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( jesus christ, he doesn't want to talk about this. he wants this to not be real. he hates this fucking station so fucking much. )

I woke up this morning and --

( he breathes out noisily, shaking his head. )

I didn't do this. I couldn't fucking move.

( but his body had. his body had moved but he hadn't been the one in control. jesus fuck. )

She's been dead a lot longer than a day.

[He agrees, casting a discerning glance over her, then looking up at him.]

What we want is a sheet, to transfer her onto. Do you prefer to go find something, or to stand watch?

[As much as he wants to get to the bottom of this they probably don't need to be doing it over the dead body.]

Real death, you shit.

( it's not ricki's fault that he might not immediately realize what kovacs is talking about. it's no one's fault but kovacs. this was his doing. he'd thought his sister had gone once and then she'd appeared like an avenging angel.

but he'd taken her out again. taken away her chance. )

I'm not leaving her. I'm fucking not.

( he was going to go out that airlock with her if no one stopped him. )

Ah.

[He breathes, as the piece slots into place. Finding her like this, and then finishing it so she can't be re-uploaded into the next sleeve. He draws in a steady breath, then informs him;]

I'll be back in just a minute. Don't- just watch your breathing, right? That's all you've got to do right now, is not black out, and remember that this station is fucked and you don't need to take this into your heart because we are not, cannot be sure it is real. People with the power to fake any sort of atrocity want to watch you hurt. Just hold on to that.

[Unsurprisingly, perhaps, he's reluctant to leave him- but slip away he does. You don't want to risk tugging a body in that state around by the hands and feet.]

( kovacs barely hears him leave. he's aware of it but he has eyes for his sister and his sister only. despite ricki's words, kovacs crouched down next to his sister, hand hovering over her like he doesn't want to touch because then it would be really real. absolutely set in stone what he'd done.

but, he reaches out anyway, hands finding her hair and stroking through it, ignoring the strands that were caked and matted with blood.

his sister. his sister that he'd done wrong over and over again. what a fucking fuck up he was. what a fucking shit. )

[He's back a few minutes later, with two different bedsheets- in time to come around the corner and see him stroking her hair. Ricki winces, and has to guess, lover or sister- and probably sister, by the look of him.]

Ready?

[He asks, quietly, though he's prepared to wait as long as Kovacs needs.]

No.

( his words sound hollow to his ears. dead but the dead person here was the person at his feet, bloodied and rotting. )

I'm going with her.

( and he doesn't mean just to get rid of the body. right now, he is dead set on not leaving her side for the rest of his miserable life. )

Oh for. I swear to fucking God, Kovacs.

[Says Ricki, as gentleness gives way to mild exasperation. He makes a snap judgement; there's no way he's going to be able to talk him out of this until he shakes some of this belief in what he thinks he's done.]

Something is very wrong with this. When you woke up this morning, you couldn't move. You never told me what happened next?

What do you fucking think happened?

( he's holding the dead body of his sister. he washed off her blood and bone in his fucking shower. he crushed her stack with his own hands. he'd killed her. )

Use your fucking brain.

( there was a lot he was skipping but there was a lot he couldn't really process right now. )

That's what I'm trying to get you to do.

[He says, crouching down, staring at him intently.]

You woke up and you couldn't move, and from that state of paralysis you thought, what, I'll take a psychic attack out on the station at random? I can feel this corpse near me from afar, I'd better dip my toe in the homicidal pond and blow her stack and come out later to see who I took my swing at?

( logically, kovacs knows that he should be listening to this. something had obviously happened, something that he had little control over despite the memories in his head. he'd been there but he hadn't been in control. something else had taken the wheel.

but it's hard to see past his dead sister. )

She's still fucking dead because of me.

( he hadn't been able to stop it. death didn't bother him. killing didn't bother him but this was different. )

I didn't do a thing to stop it.

And now you're not going to do a thing to find out who you failed to stop?

[Asks Ricki, aware that this might qualify as twisting the knife- and still not exactly clear enough on what all happened to get good and specific. He tosses the sheet at him, hoping to jolt him.]

You can't bring her back, but we can give her a respectful burial and then we can talk about who decided they'd get off on you seeing this, you being helpless through this, and on doing this to her while you couldn't stop it.

But that means one foot in front of the other, just a little longer.

( fuck you for your logic, ricki.

kovacs scrubs a hand across his face, trying to focus, trying to listen to his words so he can get rei's body out of here and somewhere where she could rest peacefully. there was just -- so much blood. )

We have to -- she can't stay on the station.

( even if a part of him wanted to take her back to his room, keep her there, make sure no one touches her, he knew that wasn't going to fly. )

I can't even fucking think straight now. Fuck.

You don't have to think for much longer.

[He lets out a sharp breath through his nose, relieved- it's still painful to hear, but it's a step in the right direction.]

We're going to get her onto the sheet and then use it as a stretcher, then shroud her in it- and the best bet to my mind is burial at sea.

Burial by stars, I suppose it'd be. It's your call?

There's no other choice.

( she can't be buried. she can't be burned. she can't be kept in his room while he holds her and waits for his own fucking death. there's nothing but the stars and the promise of quiet and dark. )

Her name's Reileen.

( if ricki hadn't suspected it already, kovacs was giving him confirmation now. this was the most important person in the world to him and she was dead, with her neck open and her stack nothing more than dust in the wind. )

Fucking killed my own sister.

( just like his father. )

Or the weird clone of her that the station created to screw with you, yeah, it seems you did.

[He says, moving to take the sheet back, so they can spread it out.]

Of the one hundred and forty odd people that have shown up here alive, and all of those who've been returned to life after they've gotten themselves killed, it just so happens that the one person who matters most to you in the world turns up, somehow immediately dies, somehow avoids being resurrected, and somehow you- I still don't completely grasp what happened with you, but by some strange confluence of events the timing of her arrival is the exact moment where you- wake up and can't move and end up smashing her stack?

I'm going to move her feet now. [He doesn't believe in her, but Kovacs does, so he gives him the warning before beginning to shift the lower half of her body onto the bedsheet, movements respectful and brusque.] You talked about her to me here. Whoever's listening, knows.

( there is nothing good about this situation. fucking nothing. if it was really his sister, then he'd just killed the only living family member he had left. he was alone. utterly and truly alone. but if this was somehow a clone and he'd been fucked with that badly, he was going to murder whoever thought it was their right or their privilege to fuck with him.

he'd do worse than he did to...to his sister. he'd killed before, he'd do it again. )

I've thought she was dead for the last two hundred years.

( he hesitates for a moment before he crouches down and holds her shoulders, keeping her still to try and make this easier. )

I didn't even think there was a body.

( an explosion like that tended to leave nothing. )

But, I don't fucking know what to think now.

So that's another inconsistency. If it's been that long for you, why would she be in the same sleeve?

[Asks Ricki, quietly, shifting up beside him so he can support the head, on its' broken neck, while they lift her the rest of the way onto the sheet.]

Unless the station needed to make well and truly sure you recognized her. Why would there suddenly be a body when you thought there wasn't one?

[And, moving to fold the edges of the sheet over her, hiding her quietly from view.]

Did you get the chance for a funeral, when it happened?

She exploded.

( there was nothing to give a fucking funeral to. )

I'm pretty sure I stepped on her ashes while I was trying to survive.

( her and quell. it'd gotten into his hair, on his clothes and he'd carried that for weeks. )

Some people keep the same sleeves, though. Bancroft has. Just because she's in the same sleeve doesn't mean anything except for the fact that she fucking exploded.

Well. Let's get to that airlock.

[He decides, and shifts forward, taking his two corners of the sheet, nodding at Kovacs to do the same.]

Mindfuckery construct of the station or not, you can say a goodbye there.

[He nearly says several things more, about the ambiguity of the situation, the cultural importance of seeing the dead, the human soul as it must apply to stacks and sleeves- but when it comes down to it he thinks about what would help if it were him and Danny, and shuts himself up.]

( this is a fucking surreal experience. he's carrying the body of his sister, or helping carry her, to a final resting place. he'd thought he'd done this already, let her go on harlan's world.

she hadn't been ready for that apparently because she'd kept popping up, a constant presence in his mind's eyes. )

Moved many dead bodies in your time?

( he has to say something. he can't just walk silently with the corpse of his sister. he can't. because all he can think of is her and he's going to fucking throw up if he keeps doing that. )

People are generally very disobliging about where they die.

[He admits, readily. The people he's killed for Peter Guillam mostly lie where they fall, but before his time in Brixton things were a little less clean and tidy.]

Don't forget, I hunted a little bounty once upon a time. [Don't forget this thing he's definitely never told you.] So I'm at twenty, maybe? I'm honestly more shocked if you haven't.

I've killed plenty of people.

( some people just needed to be fucking killed and some people paid him a good sum of money to find someone to kill. )

Just didn't fucking move them. Left them there for whoever to find.

( he was a fabulous guy, you see. )

Did you not get paid for it, or did your bosses have slightly more faith in you than mine did?

[Wonders Ricki, casually, like they're not angling his sister's corpse around a corner, like he's not trying to activate an airlock door with his elbow so they don't have to put her down.]

I got paid.

( there was no way he was going to work for fucking free. )

I got paid pretty well for a long time but money doesn't exactly matter after you get the fuck shot out of you and they sentence you to life. Had nothing when I got off the ice.

( he kind of wonders where that money had gone but it's fucking useless to dwell on. he wasn't getting it back. )

⇉ 01. bar

⇉ 02. mess hall

⇉ 03. corridor cw: violence, violent imagery, gore, creepiness

⇉ 04. kovacs' room, corridor

⇉ ooc

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject