you've got to choose between your faces

[seeingyou]

WHO: OPEN to all passengers.
WHAT: General mingle log for the first part of the month, including new partner pairing stuff.
WHERE: Navi, all over.
WHEN: Now until the next event (through May 23).
WARNINGS: If things get messy and/or upsetting, please put warnings in your comment subject lines! And if you absolutely can't keep from strangling your new partner, please report it on the death page.

Hello, passengers! Today begins just like normal, but it’s far from an ordinary day. On this fine point in space-time, passengers will notice a little something different when it comes to the glyphs marked on the backs of their hands.

They're glowing. The light is a deep shade of blue, and it's slowly blinking on and off. Maybe it's searching for something? It's entirely possible, because affected passengers will also feel a gentle tugging sensation that stops once they've come face to face with their partners. The glyph will switch to glowing a steady blue once partners are synced with each other, and they'll be able to communicate telepathically with each other, too.

Have fun getting to know each other a little better! Or, you know. Yelling at each other. Just try to keep the murder to a minimum, OK?

Comments

Alex Reagan | The Black Tapes Podcast | OTA

[11calls]

It is perhaps somewhat surprising what happens after Alex kicks Simon out of her room. The telling him to get out was a surprise in and of itself because if there’s one constant thing about the relationship between the two of them, it’s that conversations always end on Simon’s choice. But Alex had. She had and then she’d pulled back away from both of the men (assholes) in her life for a week. Reactionary is a word that Alex tends to embody honestly but right now she’s trying to calm her anger and the sense of betrayal that she’s feeling. If she’d gone to Strand all fire and anger and sharpness, he would be entirely too likely to just dismiss her as being emotional. Alex was emotional, of course but she’d also spent that time assembling an argument to refute all of the ones that Strand was going to give her.

But that takes time, above all else (and honestly it takes a fair amount of her working out her being angry and spiteful to the idea of Strand rather than allowing him to bait her into it.) So while she’s preparing, Alex is practically a ghost aboard the ship. She only comes out of her cabin in the middle of the night to hit the kitchen to grab a massive amount of coffee and whatever food doesn’t require being heated or refrigerated. Of course not even Alex Reagan is meant to survive on this little sleep and these many empty calories, so one of the other stops that she makes on a regular basis is the infirmary for some medicine for her headache. Honestly, Alex always needs medicine for her headache and she just stands over the sink with a cup of water in her hand while resting her head against the cabinet. She’s even managed to ignore the familiar pull to go out and find her new partner. (It really sucks that she’s losing Jon, honestly and it makes her even more pissy.)

Closed to Strand

But being pissy has it’s uses and it’s own sort of petty energy. Honestly, Alex Reagan is quite a good researcher, and she knows how to use it to the best effect. Even before she’d met Strand, Alex could have written a dissertation on him, and that’s something that’s only gotten more true as time and their working relationship went on. It’s a week when Alex realizes that she’s ready to face Strand and she moves to go knock on his door. Her face is set and professional, and her outfit looks more in line to the suit that she had worn during that first interview rather than her normal attire of jeans or trousers, a button down and a cardigan or blazer with a scarf. This is a professional sort of reset and there’s no way Alex is going to let him wiggle out of it, which should be apparent from the way that her knock is coupled with her calling out for “Dr. Strand?”

Infirmary

[bilocates]

Simon has a lot in common with Richard Strand. Some of those habits, which Alex knows, include being infuriatingly condescending and yes indeed an asshole. Another being he prefers to control the narrative around himself, to control the conversation and how he's seen. Be it as a complete lunatic, or as her mysterious crumb dealing Cheshire Cat.

What he doesn't want is anyone catching a whiff that Simon Reese may not be exactly as put together or in charge of himself as he likes.

So he's quiet. He flits around like a shadow and times his ventures into more public areas of the ship for when no one's around. It's easy enough when he can bilocate and spy his way around, but with an angel around and whatever other beings that don't keep a concise schedule it's harder. He has to wait longer, and with that comes greater exhaustion as he steadily frays apart more. The sheer amount of energy he's had to expend to stay out from under the eye of that terrifying being also roaming around the ship has him beyond exhausted. Couple that with Simon's decided inability to feed himself consistently and...

Well, he doesn't look his best when Alex stumbles in on him raiding the infirmary for more than just headache meds. Gaunt, paler than usual, and given he always looks malnourished that just made the whole thing worse. Startled upon not hearing her approach until it was too late to escape he just quickly pocketed the bottle of pills he'd managed to wrest out of one of the locked cabinets.

"...Alex." He's aware they might not be on the friendliest terms right now, she was pretty upset when she kicked him out. He'd been trying to give her space after that.

[11calls]

Seeing Simon is still a new enough experience on it's own that it still takes a minute for it to register that this is him as he really is rather than as he appears within her imagination and memories. Alex knows that he's been aboard of course, and she also knows that he'd been bilocating because of course Simon would always be but the way he looks now makes something in her chest hitch. He looks fucking terrible to put a word on it and Alex can't help but have an all too familiar pang of guilt over it. Yes, she is intellectually aware of the fact that no where in her job description is her being a caretaker for Simon or Strand but even when she's angry, Alex can't help but to feel like it is anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Alex just follows the line of the bottle of pills to his pocket and then back again. Yeah, that wasn't something as simple as vitamins or ibuprofen. Yes, he'd been hurt but it doesn't sit well with Alex that he's taking the pills and not only that but that he'd been taking them without eating even though he doesn't say it.

"That's a good way to make yourself feel even worse you know." Alex nods to the pocket in as she speaks in a quiet tone. "They can really mess up your stomach if you take them when you don't have anything in it."

[bilocates]

It has been three years since she's seen him in the flesh, hasn't it? Well... two for her, but still. Two years that he's been escaped from Three Rivers. Two years of his own endless reconnaissance, his own working on this case in ways she couldn't possibly know. Nor was he about to go about explaining to her, some things were better left unsaid. He didn't exactly want her to see him like this, it wasn't her duty to look after him. Not like Strand. No, Simon was the one who was supposed to be looking out for her, not that she knew that.

He was usually so good at keeping secrets.

He sniffed, straightening in an attempt to look defiant and less like a withering mess. Sure it wasn't impressive but he wasn't about to just wilt and hand over his stolen prize so easily.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about, Alex," He advised in that ever so faintly condescending tone, though it certainly lacked bite given the current circumstances. Tempting to try to pull himself out of the room and away from this encounter, but he could hardly stand himself for fleeing now could he? "You're not the only one who can't sleep." He's not addressing the empty stomach. She knows he's not eating, he knows he's not eating, it's pretty damn obvious Simon hasn't exactly been keeping himself well fed these days. Especially with a distinct lack of anywhere to go that didn't run the risk of running into someone he might no. Who would have thought a space ship would be too small?

[11calls]

If Simon ever told her that he was supposed to be the one who was looking out for her, Alex would be quite tempted to just laugh in his face. There had been too many ways that Simon had driven her crazy like a Cheshire Cat for her to believe it. All too often, Alex felt like Simon was someone who had one hand on her strings and who jerked on them in order to make her move in the direction that he wanted her to. (No, she's not thinking about who else has hands on her strings. She knows some, suspects others and doesn't want to engage with anyone else about them. Warren and Strand and whoever else can just really stay the hell away from them as far as Alex is concerned.) Maybe things changed later, in the extra year he'd had on her, but right now her anger with Simon is too fresh for her to consider other things.

The condensation in Simon's tone is like taking a papercut and squeezing lemon juice on it, or like poking a bruise and she just crosses her arms a bit over her chest without looking away. He may not be giving up his prize so easy, but Alex definitely isn't letting him go easily either and if Simon thinks that she would be, he's definitely not been paying attention for the last three years. "Yeah well," Alex counters, and she just stares at him, because she's not looking away. "Not sleeping and not eating are two different things, Simon. And I would think not wanting to be nauseated would mean that you might think about eating before you take such heavy drugs."

[bilocates]

She might not think as much if she knew what he was actually doing, but they both know Simon would never volunteer that information. He was terrible like that, puppeteering her around, definitely as guilty of pulling her strings as holding them down. It's just too bad that Warren has his hands in all their strings and she has no idea. Not yet. This year between them really was something of a hassle.

Oh, he knows he's not getting out of this. He could mess with the electricals and ghost his way out but that would also be a far too overt demonstration for her at this juncture. He'd rather keep her guessing as to how exactly he did the things he did. Or if he was even doing them at all, though by now he was fairly certain she believed him. Regardless, now wasn't the time. It took a while, Simon regarding her in turn with that same unblinking defiant stare as he had in the hospital but after a time... he looked away. First to give ground in this apparent confrontation.

Too tired, and perhaps just a little embarrassed. A tired, defeated sigh. "I'm fine," She won't buy it. Another irritated glance shot her way. "I don't know how to cook." There, is that better?

[11calls]

For a moment, Alex just laughed. It's a light and shocked sound as she just stares at him with a brow raised. "You've been stalking me for so long and you think that I possibly know how to cook, Simon? Strand takes out the smoke detectors in Howard's house whenever I'm there even if I'm just using his stupidly fancy overly complicated toaster." Which, she'd also once come extremely close to setting the damned thing on fire, even if Simon hadn't been around to see that. "The only things I know how to make are coffee, EZ mac and Nanaimo bars, and all of those things I still occasionally burn. I'm definitely not doing any cooking on board; I'd probably set poor Navi on fire if I did."

She inclines her head towards the door to the infirmary. Alex is well aware that there's probably more to it than simply not being able to cook, but that would be trying to read Simon's mind and that's complicated enough when she actually does know what he's talking about even in the vaguest terms and not the things that he's keeping from her. "Come on. There's peanut butter and jelly. That's easy enough and counts as protein."

[bilocates]

Simon gestures vaguely, one open hand and a half shrug. "No one to cook for me," Strand feeds her, and she can actually buy takeout. He'd like to remind her that he doesn't exactly have money, nor the resources available to learn given that he's a fugitive on the run for breaking out of the hospital. "You did almost burn the house down with that." He points out with a wry smirk. Yeah, Simon stalks.

Letting that drop he watches her curiously, if still somewhat cautiously like a cornered wild animal. The idea of food isn't entirely disagreeable, it's not like he'd expected her to turn this into an offer of feeding him.

Alright, fine, but he's not volunteering his ill-gotten gains. Simon still wants to sleep later. "...Okay." She probably wasn't expecting him to go that easy.

[11calls]

Strand doesn't really cook for her right now. They're too sharp and too at odds, like puzzle pieces that look like they should fit together but that actually don't. Alex hates the feeling of it, but she can't force him to be the Strand that she knows anymore than Strand can force her to be someone who didn't know his secrets, and someone who was going to go after them even when he didn't want her to. The ache is old but familiar, a scab over a pulsing infection as Alex keeps attempting to ignore it and the things that Simon had said about him.

After the things that Simon had said last time, she expected there to be more of a catch to his agreeing and Alex just watches him with a brow arch as if she's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely Simon was going to be Simon about this and say something cryptic or whatever? But Alex was prepared for Simon being Simon and right now he doesn't feel very Simon-y and she knows that he really must not have been eating.

Pushing aside the guilt about that (yes, Alex knows it doesn't belong to her, but still) Alex just quickly says "okay." before she gestures towards the door to the infirmary: "after you." Cause that's the easiest way to make sure that Simon is going forward.

[bilocates]

Simon doesn't quite know all of that yet, he bumped into Strand yes and he knows as far as Strand's concerned they barely know each other but he doesn't know how bad they're really doing. Sure he can guess, and he'll definitely pick it up in due time, but he's been a little distracted what with the almost dying and freshly new in space thing. Give him a bit.

Simon watches her right back, expression unreadable. No shoe drops, no cryptic messages or vague warnings. He's hungry, he's tired, he sick. And worst of all he's lost: There's nothing here to fight. No purpose to his meddling. It's... unsettling, being this untethered.

"It's not your responsibility," He reminds her. Yes he's aware of the guilt, and by now she should be aware enough of his constant prying that of course he's going to point it out. It's not her job to look after him even if he is failing to do it himself right now. Is she making him go first? Damn it yes she is. Sullenly he finally moves out of his semi-safe corner to let her shepherd him toward the kitchen. She's really not going to let him escape her right now is she?

Hall from the kitchen

[smokingguns]

Not wanting to find a partner was just as well for him, but knowing he was this close was enough for him to be curious. They both had in common that they had better things to do than find some rando. With Mello needing his attention, Matt wasn't very up to the task of new people until the indicators that he remembered with Juuzou.

They had that in common and the need to be up late, only with Matt he was used to not sleeping for days on end with little sleep in between. It made for more productive work time and it was only because of the lack of work that he could lounge like he was, waiting to make sure he was right. "You think how long I've been here I'd know your face." He did not, but then again successors kept to themselves out of necessity. "Got a name to go with the face? I'll let you go on your way after that."

[11calls]

Back home there had been a sustained period of time where Alex was living on less than two hours of sleep a night. Well, perhaps living might have been a generous word for it, but she had still worked and existed and made bad decision following bad decision. She'd worked and worried and had kept going on even when she shouldn't have. Closing her eyes for a second, Alex just runs her hand over her face at the question. Knowing that the glyph in her hand had changed because she can see it through the skin of her eyelids, Alex sighs.

"Course I have a name to go with the face." It's tired sounding but matter-of-fact and it reminds Alex just how shitty she has been about greeting people lately. Putting the blame on that whole dying and coming back to the mess that was Simon and Strand, Alex just lowers her hand and opens her eyes, giving him a small smile. "I'm Alex. Alex Reagan."

Alex and Strand Fighting in a Tree, k n e e to the crotch!

[imarealistnotacynic]

Richard Strand can sense that something is coming. He doesn't know who or how but damn it the mute button is still on the loud shouts of feeling in his head. It's enough to wonder if it's a mental diagnosis. His family has no history of any illness beyond repressing emotions and abuse - fuck you very much Howard.

Except no. He has dressed the part as well with one of those silk ties he picked up planetside. He shouldn't have to say that. So he's dressed nicely himself as he opens the door. Blue and black are his colors and he knows he looks good.

What surprises him is she looks good too. Oh thank God. Why is she angry? Was she what's coming? He's proud he doesn't pull on something anxiously this is good. Maybe she'd abandon this foolishness.

"Alex. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

[11calls]

For a long moment, Alex just watches Strand in his suit. Even before she'd seen him wrapped in the conspiracy flannels and the way that he'd grown a grief beard, Alex had known that the suits acted as a form of armor for him. They were things like the public persona of Dr. Strand, the Alpha skeptic that kept him isolated, kept him being a touch me not, someone who was somehow separate and distinct from all of the things that he'd claimed weren't real. But Alex has seen beyond the curtain now, and she knows the armor and the attire and the attitude aren't nearly as solid as Strand wishes that they were; and that was even before she'd spoken with Simon.

In many ways, Simon was a cypher: the sort of lens through which Alex could look at tapes and see things from a wider point of view. But he was also a kaleidoscope that changed things, spinning them so that Alex could see the other side of them. Alex knows that Simon has done it before: Amalia, Strand, Alex herself and she shouldn't be surprised by the way that he'd done it now with the additional time longer than she has and how much closer to it they were getting. Simon had given Alex a differing perspective and now she can see all of the things that she'd not let herself put together before.

So, her voice is harsher than it has been and Alex crosses her arms over her chest. Like with Simon, there is the inclination to record this, but she'd left the recorder back in her room. "We need to talk."

[imarealistnotacynic]

"By all means." She's a swirling storm of energy to him and his heart clenches. His heart warms and it feels like there are claws there - but all he has is his composure. All he has is facts and logic. Alex is angry. Alex will make mistakes.

He has changed his room. There is a small space for books that he has stacked full as well as suits and clothes.

"Would you like tea?"

[11calls]

Alex isn't surprised that he's changed his room to something more in line with what she'd expected of his tastes from how she'd seen Howard's house being remodeled back home. It suits him more than the other did, frankly and it also seemed to drive home the idea that this wasn't as much of a transient period as he may have thought it first had been or as much as he wanted it to be. Seeing it also reminds her of the time that he'd had aboard without her and how she'd spent the week since she'd come back to life avoiding the hell out of him. It would be much harder to do that here.

So, Alex just slides her hands into the pockets of her blazers for a moment, because she also knows how Strand looks when he's preparing for battle, and she can see it there in the way that he's looking at her right now. It's a very familiar sort of feeling between the two of them: Richard pulling on the fact that he's got much better armor than she does, but Alex tends to have better weapons delivered kindly than he ever could. Back home, she might have been more likely to soften the blows that Alex knows that she can make between his armor but at the moment she's not inclined to do that.

Starting with a simple question, Alex locks eyes with him, refusing to release him from her gaze as she waits for his response. "Why did you call me back after the Torres case? When you came to Seattle I mean. Why did you bring me the Unsound Black Tape?" It's deliberate because Alex is well aware of the fact that it's something that Strand couldn't try and weasel his way out of not knowing the answer to it.

[imarealistnotacynic]

He is at a hotel bar listening to the podcast on his phone. Nursing a glass of scotch. Swirling it around as people laugh and live their lives.

Smart people. Normal people. People who listened to this sort of thing.

it's popular. It's extremely popular. ruby texted or she is.

"I'm just starting medical school-" his ears perked up at that before looking over at a group of college graduates, "and you would not believe the ghost story the professor told us..."

Ghosts.

Always goddamn ghosts.

In the present he gestures for her to sit at a small table. She could hit hard. He knew that when he'd met her - but he suspected her strikes were imprecise. Unwieldy. Except...

His brownstone is a tomb, swirling snow turning it into a ghostly graveyard. The lights in other houses look cozy.

This place was once alive and warm - then Coralee had disappeared and he'd looked into her history and traced that she was involved in a lot of things beyond what he knew.

Not just affairs.

They could sort it out. He believed that. But she was probably dead, victim of her own hubris and yet...

When alex holds his gaze the wall is big and snowy but it cracks. Just a single crack.

Hold onto the anger.

The crack of emotion heals.

"Have a seat. Please. Let's talk like adults."

[11calls]

Alex is familiar enough with Strand's playbook to know that the starting volley that he launches is intended to make her automatically defensive and on edge. Yes, Alex is angry, but she's not angry or stupid enough to let him bait her into a place that she doesn't want to go even before they've barely started. Without a word, she settles into the chair that Strand had gestured for, and she pulls it up to the table before resting her hands over it. Meeting his eyes directly, Alex just asks the question again with all of the persistence of a broken record if need be. She wants an actual answer to this, and the answer is a framework to act as the rest of the questions that she's got for him.

It's odd really though, and Alex knows it, but how much right now she trusts Simon more than she trusts Strand. Of course, Nic would tell her not to trust either of them, but she knows that Simon doesn't lie to her, and he wouldn't lie to her about what motivations that Strand had. Whatever else, Simon would know that Alex would find out eventually because she would. Strand though, Strand thought that he could talk around her, like he was doing now. He thought he was smarter than she was with his duel phDs, and maybe he was in that way, but Alex also knows that she's smarter than he is when it comes to people and she doesn't need a degree in psych to do it.

[imarealistnotacynic]

Richard has faced down worse (in his mind). He's faced down angry Vatican priests, the archbishop of Canterbury (both relative pussycats) - the dean of MIT who happened to be a ridiculous fan of haunted asylums. All he had wanted was a nice discussion of the school's robotics program and how it would take care of the elderly...

He had this. He could do it. Facing down a world renowned journalist who crawled into his life and tore it apart even if it was what he wanted...

Pouring two cups of tea he sets one in front of her before facing her down.

"I thought you would be interested." And that is part of the truth, "It's a case I study frequently."

[11calls]

Alex just raises her brow as he says that, because she knows that's not the truth. It may be part of the truth, the trappings that he wraps around it to keep it hidden from her and the rest of the world, but Alex knows there's far more to it than that. She doesn't touch her tea, instead leaving the cup where he'd placed it. "It is interesting," Alex will give him that, especially considering what she knows of the Unsound now, and how it fits into all of this. It makes sense that it would be one of the cases that Strand would be interested in. And it also makes sense that it's the first case he would show her considering how each tape was a building block to the rest of them.

"But it's also in my backyard so I would have an undeniable interest in it. But that doesn't answer the question as to why you would return my call with a tape when our work together had ended when I'd hung up on you after you insulted me on the Torres case, because Dr. Strand, you were the one who reached out to me on that. I didn't."

[imarealistnotacynic]

"You're a journalist. I thought it would interest you." He sat, "You're being irrational. Are you all right?"

Something pings in him and pangs, it feels like his lungs are squeezed, "You knew the area and the location. I really did think it would interest you. You - the other you from my timeline I suppose? Seemed interested. You're engaging when you're intrigued."

She's easy to use when she's intrigued.

"So."

Springtrap | Five Nights at Freddys | OTA/LOCKED

[sprungtrap]

[William Afton - or at least the thing that was William Afton was too far gone to actually care about spending the rest of his life - or afterlife - as an animatronic rabbit. People would expect it however, they'd expect fear so there is a pair of decaying ears and a vaguely rotting smell as he creeps around the room. Things blink. Click Clack.

Then nothing. He disappears. If you're lucky enough to catch him he'll let out a metallic scream and move like a robot. If prompted...]

I'm s-so sorry I was afraid to join this ...gathering.


[LOCKED TO SIMON]

Something is glowing blue on the back of his hand and near as he can figure there are thoughts in his head, in the fused circuits and wires. Oh how fascinating. He has always been a scientist and now there are things in his mind - ghosts and demons and darkness - but it's not his.

Dare he? Is this thing a friend or a foe? So he'll send back an image, a positive one. It is a human male, broad, with a little girl on his lap along with a young boy. A third child with a large teddy bear sits at his feet.

And then it's gone.

The image blinks again and he approaches - what feels right. The source of all these wonderful wonderful memories keeping his own darkness locked carefully ever so carefully behind his circuits. Let this boy, this mere boy -

(Michael you pathetic little fool.

God he could be Michael. The Rabbit's rotted lips don't stop smiling but rage may betray him to Simon)

"...Is this you? In my head?"

[bilocates]

Simon had noticed his hand blinking blue but chose to ignore it, initially unwilling to play the game of compulsion he felt prickling at his mind. Whatever this was he wasn't going to tolerate it. Yes he'd watched the video about partners and all of that nonsense, promptly insisted to himself he absolutely did not want anyone in his head, and went about his day.

Then he got too close. Bilocating around as he does Simon got careless, he got too close to someone or something and the brand solidified blue. Then, with it, came the thoughts. Whispers, darkness, circuits... children.

It doesn't have the intended effect. Simon's immediate response is suspicion and indeed, anger. He feels that rage beneath the surface, the malice behind the smile. This rotten corpse stuffed inside the oversized metal rabbit costume wasn't fooling him. This was a being rotten both inside and out.

Simon turned on him, weird unblinking stare locked on him and unintimidated by his size and weight. Maybe he should be worried, but circuits were easier to interrupt than synapses, and Simon has experience toying with both. He is unafraid.

He glanced at the back of his hand, then at the rabbit. "Who are you?"

[sprungtrap]

Interesting. Very interesting.

William knows then that the boy can see through him. Christ he really is just like Michael. There was a vague image of a child with a foxy mask shoving a small boy into a robot's mouth - screaming - parents running and blood. Blood everywhere all over his shirt and his hands and-

The rabbit lets out a clink and then a metallic grind.

"Afton." the thing growls, "I was Afton. Now I am more. Who the fuck are you and why are you in my head then?"

[bilocates]

"You didn't listen to the video? It plays when you arrive." It was almost drawled, bored, condescending as if to say 'you should know this.' Simon didn't flinch at the images forced bloody and raw into his mind. While he didn't retaliate, not yet, that was purely because he liked to hold his cards close to his chest.

He wasn't going to let this thing have a glimpse of what he could do until it was too late. For now it would all be absorbed and tucked away as information that Simon was almost certain would come in handy for later.

"We're... partners now," There might have been a hint of disgust. Overhead the lights giving something of a threatening flicker. Just the power, nothing to be concerned about. "Simon." He added finally.