buried deep within there's a human

[tagartist]

WHO: Chloe Price and YOOOOOOOOOOOU
WHAT: Catch all for May
WHEN: ... May
WHERE: Anywhere and everywhere
NOTES: I feel like Chloe's a generic warning unto herself, but expect swears and innuendo and I'll warn in subject lines for anything that could be worse.

i. my mind's lost in bleak visions (the docks; cw for alcohol use)

When things went crazy at home, Chloe had always gone to the lighthouse. Here, the docks seemed like the closest thing. A place she could sit that was above the water enough to not worry about getting wet, but close enough to stare out over the waves and feel a little more grounded. She didn't know why water was so calming, but it was about all she had to grasp to and she wasn't in the mood to analyze it too deeply because of that.

Normal people might have gone to their friends to confide in the frustrations she had over everything; the growing resentment she felt for being othered as a Rifter, the anger at the propositions being made, the overwhelming exhaustion that came from being distrusted simply because she existed no matter what world she was in. Chloe, however, was taking comfort from a bottle because talking to people was just... hard. Old habits never disappeared no matter how much she tried to change her outlook on life.

So she was sitting near the edge of an empty dock, feet dangling off the edge, bottle in hand, staring out and waiting to see if anyone yelled at her to leave. She was content to stay there long as she was allowed, though - at least until it got too close to curfew and she'd have to trudge back to her room, but that was more than a ways off.

ii. limbs lost to dead weight stake (gallows)

When she wasn't drowning her sorrows down by the docks, Chloe was looking for distractions. She didn't have enough money for shopping distractions to say the least and she was avoiding any research work like the plague while she tried to sort out her emotions, which meant that she was instead looking for them in the only thing she had left; art and mechanics.

When focused on her art, Chloe could be found sitting just about anywhere, paper and charcoal in hands, or homemade paint beside her with a brush instead, making sure to try and capture sketches of the views around her, or pushing out sketches for art that could be used in protest, or if someone were to come by at just the right moment, they might catch her making portraits of a certain elf who had managed to capture her heart and went by the name of Fern.

And when focused on mechanics, she was sitting with a stored broken cart that she had procured months prior, scrap metal beside her, trying to see if she could make a simple engine from the spare parts. Nothing fancy, certainly not enough to make a car, but maybe enough to make pushing heavy loads a bit easier for one person who didn't have a lot of muscle. It was slow going, a good deal of failure and a lot of forehead wrinkling, but it at least kept her mind and her hands busy on something that didn't make her particularly enraged.

iii. take me out of this place i'm in (wild card)

[ if you wanna plot something, shoot me a message over at keshet or just put up a starter of your choice if you like that organic rp life. ]

Comments

[tagartist]

His question gets a laugh - a real one, which she hadn't been expecting to hear from herself, considering she hasn't done it in a while. At least not around anyone but Fern. The thought makes her bite into the inside of her cheek so she doesn't get lost in thought, pushing herself to stay in the present. "Let's not freak the natives out more than necessary," she said with some humor. She didn't particular care what the natives thought most days, but lately, it had become a bit more prominently important.

Working out all the kinks, though - that's something she knows is true. She sighs, nodding in agreement. Asking isn't a bad thing, but Chloe's shit as asking for help.

"I haven't found anything close enough to fuel that would work well enough for internal. Figured steam is everywhere, though, and the expansion principles of chemistry seem to be universal in the literal sense." She glared at the engine then, though, poking at the pipes. "But it either doesn't turn right - hence the need for new gears, possibly - or it uh..." She hesitated, blushing a bit at admitting her failures, "... it... Blows up. Nothing huge! Just like -" She makes a small motion with her hands coupled with a noise that was clearly meant to imply small, slightly controlled explosion. "I've had to weld back together so many parts at this point, I swear I could figure out how to make the damn gears myself."

[gotyourselfapilot]

Hearing an actual laugh around here was nice for a change. Poe knew better than to scare the natives since the Rifters get looks to begin with. He's only an ordinary human man, there wasn't anything too special. One of the best pilots in the Resistance back home. Here? He had to try to fit in to the things he could. "It would be too much, huh? I'm sure we can gradually work up to that."

Poe knew asking for help can be nerve wrecking. But if there were people out with the knowledge. He'll likely ask them for the help instead of trying himself knowing it'll take longer.

"I come from a place with farther technology than steam too. We fuel starships primarily. Travel through space. Steam heats up and certain areas of the pipes could be getting too hot." He's thinking out loud in hopes that she may have seen or felt anything in that sense. "We all learn from our mistakes. The gears could be what you really need. But if it's overheating it could be bringing the whole thing out of whack." At least she didn't burn a tree or anything major from the sounds of it. "You probably could as long as you don't mind how long it might take with trial and error. If someone out there already knows though it could cut the time in half."