Something burrowing. Deafened. Silenced. A sight that revives that unsteadiness, a blur of feelings that burrows in the pit of her stomach. But it isn't the same, God, of course it isn't, foreign. Unwanted. She squints, blinking through the strain tugging at the corners of her eyes.] Charlie? Charl— [A break in her voice, although she really means to repeat his name. To clarify; to be absolutely sure the heightened beat of her heart has reason.
Reaching his face, she strokes his cheeks with the tips of her fingers. Real. They smooth along until comfortably settled, cupping and matched with a smile. It's a strange smile that trembles, struggling.]
'Because I can' seems to be the popular justification, yes. [ He's well familiar with it due to existence with Tony ] What urgency makes you adverse to the detour?
[Vague, but she doesn't believe she can will a true explanation forward. Details she is unsure if she can retell, misfortune and all, especially for a stranger like him. Yes, a stranger, but not the stranger she's looking for. She licks her lips, briefly pausing to choose her next words carefully.]
Are you...? [A question that she implies. Like David? A robot?]
[ Oh honey, you're a walking heart on a sleeve compared to this veritable ice queen. ]
I have no intentions of going back into space. [ Not quite matter-of-fact; it's a little too hard for that. ] The last trip was a sorry excuse from the get-go. [ Understatement. ] And this— [ New body, new life, new space to exist in. ] —is a new opportunity.
[The word ghost stirs in her mind, foolish, but it quickly dissolves as quickly as it came. Revived. A second chance. Looking to the woman who fell due to unfortunate circumstances, identifying with that term seemed almost appropriate. People you don't quite expect, as for events. Unfortunate and unkind as they do not offer reason. She will not purse her lips in disapproval, but remains stoic and unwilling for anything more.
After all, she already made certain of their relationship.]
Still hoping. Still praying. [ Vickers used to hope for things, used to have her own version of god, only that god had been her father and he never did anything but give her life and then abandon her afterwards to figure the rest out on her own.
God, she decided later, is an excuse — made up by people, for people who lacked the conviction to self-sustain out of pure selfishness, out of the singular need to survive. ]
[There is the slight movement of her expression. Eyelashes flutter until they become calmed and still, as if physically disturbed by her words. As for their world, surrounded in advancements by mere humans (argued to even surpass God), there's nothing unfamiliar about that doubt. That disbelief, yet that's what beliefs are. Personal and chosen because, well...
Do they even need reason? It's her choice, her faith, something her father chose to believe in his time. Why can't she be allowed to do the same?
Despite the use of mockery, she remains as she is.]
[But they mustn't. She hasn't finished. Answers are beyond her reach.
Swallowing her thoughts, instead she chooses to verbalize something simple. Not a disappointment.] It's strange. Knowing someone I cannot see steers away everything.
But I can believe can't I, that she may change her mind?
To the first, your presence here. And to the last- [There's a briefly amused look that crosses his face, gone in an instant. Elizabeth had already made it perfectly clear just how she felt about Charlie. So while David may not understand those emotions intimately, he knows logically just what they mean.]
It is human nature to seek attachments with their own kind. [Why else design an android to pass as one?] Given your own attachment to Doctor Holloway, it can't be easy to ignore the opportunity to spend time with him again.
[Always a bundle of words that silence her own. Charlie would laugh. A chuckle after a somewhat rough exchange of words, met with neutrality on David's part. She would just observe, at a distance, nothing significant to add or protest. After all, he cannot naturally feel, that's impossible. What's the harm?
But from the beginning of their adventure to the very last moment, a companion she almost chose to abandon, she senses something more. Human, but not.]
You... you aren't, no. [—A crack in her voice, hushed. Charlie's time passed. Unnatural. Unfair, but that's how things are sometimes. Life. God. She's struggling, a contradiction of belief and simple need. A need for everything to be smoothed again, but the little bumps are still there.
Even with Charlie, she still deserves her answers.] Not at all.
[An admission that leaves him momentarily confused. Why wouldn't she want to live in a world where Charlie is still alive. Why not set aside the mission Elizabeth took upon herself and let things be smoothed back down as much as possible. The few extra bumps their relocation would bring- Holloway, Vickers, the two of them, all forced to live within the confines of a single ship again -are nothing that can't be worked around.]
Do you believe you can win a battle with 'fate'? [He knows Elizabeth to a level that even she may not understand. Knows that Vickers believes she is in control. Knows that Holloway believes the very same for himself. Each of them are bound to each other now; have been since first being assigned to Prometheus. Where one goes, the others will inevitably follow.]
[ David's expression doesn't shift one way or the other, staying, as it always does, carefully neutral. (Neutral, though there always seems to be some hint of regret or sadness; a programming oversight, no doubt, one deemed insignificant — or human — enough not to change.) ]
It seems that we have little choice in the matter. Your answers may have to wait.
[There's a small instant where she crinkles her nose, seemingly uncomfortable with the sight. She immediately soothes the feeling, attempting to mirror the neutrality.
I am sorry, [ he says, brow pinching slightly in an approximation of the appropriate emotion. He had thought her answers irrelevant but she had wanted them so badly. Perhaps that made them relevant. Didn't it? And no, no extra spark runs through the cavity of his chest, but still. He can say that he's sorry, and maybe the lie will take. ]
[Charlie would think more of it, he had the sort of tongue for such trivial things. As all worlds progressed forward, they moved back. Searching for their makers as something as they themselves would parent something; that man's son, but not-quite son: David. Quite close, but not quite there. Not quite human.
He didn't understand.
"Well, I guess that's because I'm a human being. And you're a robot."
Through the chain of events that led her to that point, scars and all that led to her decision, she remains determined. Dr. Elizabeth Shaw deserves her answers and she will get them. She will leap and put everything to rest. Connect the dots and stars. Now, unlike her husband, she reserves her words. She chooses them as they seem fit and at good timing, but now she chooses to say:] It isn't over.
[ David, chosen and beloved by God Himself. Crafted in His image — in Weyland's image, and yet, not quite human. Made to be second tier. (That's a cruelty, isn't it? God's son, but not among God's children. He might protest, could he feel offense.)
He cocks his head to one side before speaking, though nothing else in his expression changes. ]
I really do. We, humans, we... always find our way.
[Her words, they shake, but her expression—different. That frustration she once felt, resurfacing leaving nothing but a cold layer. The cracks have been patched, although weak as they are, using duct tape for delicate wounds. There is a lot to be known about an expression, inner troubles and all. Whether it be her belief or unmatched passion to prove and set purpose on her life's work. Sweat and stress that she clasped Charlie's hand all the way through.
I won't. [Hush, hush. Her expression straightens as her tone steadies. It's sure; determined. A woman who does more than beg at this point.
But there's the slight squint of her eyes, observant of his behavior. A spark that does remind her, although leaving it uncertain whether that could be something really wants right now.]
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ataraxion (Here be probable spoilers)
no subject
[ he offers because there's not quite anything else he can say otherwise. ]
Maybe this space expedition's going to be nicer.
[ he wants to be her anchor. ]
s-sob.
Something burrowing. Deafened. Silenced. A sight that revives that unsteadiness, a blur of feelings that burrows in the pit of her stomach. But it isn't the same, God, of course it isn't, foreign. Unwanted. She squints, blinking through the strain tugging at the corners of her eyes.] Charlie? Charl— [A break in her voice, although she really means to repeat his name. To clarify; to be absolutely sure the heightened beat of her heart has reason.
Reaching his face, she strokes his cheeks with the tips of her fingers. Real. They smooth along until comfortably settled, cupping and matched with a smile. It's a strange smile that trembles, struggling.]
YES YES YES FOREVER
♥
[—I haven't found my answers yet.]
I shouldn't be surprised. It's what we all do.
no subject
no subject
[Vague, but she doesn't believe she can will a true explanation forward. Details she is unsure if she can retell, misfortune and all, especially for a stranger like him. Yes, a stranger, but not the stranger she's looking for. She licks her lips, briefly pausing to choose her next words carefully.]
Are you...? [A question that she implies. Like David? A robot?]
no subject
no subject
The slight shake of her head, revealing very little with her expression.]
And you?
no subject
I have no intentions of going back into space. [ Not quite matter-of-fact; it's a little too hard for that. ] The last trip was a sorry excuse from the get-go. [ Understatement. ] And this— [ New body, new life, new space to exist in. ] —is a new opportunity.
I don't plan on wasting it.
no subject
[The word ghost stirs in her mind, foolish, but it quickly dissolves as quickly as it came. Revived. A second chance. Looking to the woman who fell due to unfortunate circumstances, identifying with that term seemed almost appropriate. People you don't quite expect, as for events. Unfortunate and unkind as they do not offer reason. She will not purse her lips in disapproval, but remains stoic and unwilling for anything more.
After all, she already made certain of their relationship.]
I hope that you find what you are looking for.
no subject
Still hoping. Still praying. [ Vickers used to hope for things, used to have her own version of god, only that god had been her father and he never did anything but give her life and then abandon her afterwards to figure the rest out on her own.
God, she decided later, is an excuse — made up by people, for people who lacked the conviction to self-sustain out of pure selfishness, out of the singular need to survive. ]
no subject
Do they even need reason? It's her choice, her faith, something her father chose to believe in his time. Why can't she be allowed to do the same?
Despite the use of mockery, she remains as she is.]
Of course, if not, then what else?
no subject
For what it's worth, there is still time for her to change her mind.
no subject
[But they mustn't. She hasn't finished. Answers are beyond her reach.
Swallowing her thoughts, instead she chooses to verbalize something simple. Not a disappointment.] It's strange. Knowing someone I cannot see steers away everything.
But I can believe can't I, that she may change her mind?
no subject
no subject
[Lips press into a thin line, breathing softly.]
What makes you say that?
no subject
It is human nature to seek attachments with their own kind. [Why else design an android to pass as one?] Given your own attachment to Doctor Holloway, it can't be easy to ignore the opportunity to spend time with him again.
Or am I wrong?
no subject
But from the beginning of their adventure to the very last moment, a companion she almost chose to abandon, she senses something more. Human, but not.]
You... you aren't, no. [—A crack in her voice, hushed. Charlie's time passed. Unnatural. Unfair, but that's how things are sometimes. Life. God. She's struggling, a contradiction of belief and simple need. A need for everything to be smoothed again, but the little bumps are still there.
Even with Charlie, she still deserves her answers.] Not at all.
no subject
Do you believe you can win a battle with 'fate'? [He knows Elizabeth to a level that even she may not understand. Knows that Vickers believes she is in control. Knows that Holloway believes the very same for himself. Each of them are bound to each other now; have been since first being assigned to Prometheus. Where one goes, the others will inevitably follow.]
no subject
It seems that we have little choice in the matter. Your answers may have to wait.
no subject
What makes you sad, David? Are you free, David?]
As they always do.
no subject
I would have liked to see you find them.
no subject
He didn't understand.
"Well, I guess that's because I'm a human being. And you're a robot."
Through the chain of events that led her to that point, scars and all that led to her decision, she remains determined. Dr. Elizabeth Shaw deserves her answers and she will get them. She will leap and put everything to rest. Connect the dots and stars. Now, unlike her husband, she reserves her words. She chooses them as they seem fit and at good timing, but now she chooses to say:] It isn't over.
no subject
He cocks his head to one side before speaking, though nothing else in his expression changes. ]
Do you really think so?
no subject
[Her words, they shake, but her expression—different. That frustration she once felt, resurfacing leaving nothing but a cold layer. The cracks have been patched, although weak as they are, using duct tape for delicate wounds. There is a lot to be known about an expression, inner troubles and all. Whether it be her belief or unmatched passion to prove and set purpose on her life's work. Sweat and stress that she clasped Charlie's hand all the way through.
Alone, but surviving.]
no subject
How do you plan to stop her?
no subject
But there's the slight squint of her eyes, observant of his behavior. A spark that does remind her, although leaving it uncertain whether that could be something really wants right now.]
I'll just be convincing her.