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apocalypsehowcomm2023-03-12 08:21 pm
failedpromise) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2023-03-12 08:21 pm
Entry tags:
(Log) This may be the worst month she's ever had
Who: Cortana and ...you?
When: First prompt is on the eighth, other two are on and after the eleventh.
Where: Various
Summary: Cortana has some lighthearted fun while shopping for clothes. Then several days later, everything goes to hell.
Warnings: First prompt is unlikely to have anything, second and third involve loss of bodily autonomy, extremely traumatic memories, dissociation, general distress, with potential for considerably worse to come up in threads.
A) (March 8th)
Cortana needs more clothes. She already has some simple white blouses and a few bottoms, as well as several gifted items and an assortment of socks and underwear, but it's a very basic, plain selection -- if she's going to keep going to hangouts and parties, she wants more color.
...Also, one of the graphic tees caught her eye. It was funny.
So that's what she's doing right now, looking through the graphic tee selection at the department store nearest ADI headquarters, picking through and occasionally holding one up that says something silly or interesting, like 'home is where the Wi-Fi always connects' or 'It's okay if you don't like me. Not everyone has good taste.' or has some stupid joke on it. She seems genuinely amused by the dumb puns and overused sarcastic quips: every so often, she'll even fold one and put it in her cart.
She might have a few sets of ridiculous colorful leggings in her cart too.
B) (March 11th)
Gus the bus is something that Cortana is at best only vaguely aware of. That said, when the bus that's supposed to take her home comes scuttling instead of rolling toward her she's immediately on guard.
Not that that will do anything to help her, as she doesn't realize that what she actually needs to do is run...
B1:
She wishes she could say that this is her first experience with a loss of autonomy, the betrayal of moving without choosing to, of not being able to stop no matter how much she wants to.
But as Cortana finds herself boarding the bus and taking a seat, as she sits frozen in place while the bugs crawl over her body, as she is trussed up in gossamer silk, all she can think of is High Charity and her inability to even speak her mind as the Gravemind did as he pleased.
She doesn't scream -- at least she still has that much control of herself -- but it's a struggle not to sob as she tries to will herself to do something, anything, to break free before she is cocooned in white.
B2:
She 'wakes' at the same bus stop where she started, but makes no effort to move, even as relief washes over her. It's-it's too much, and all she can do as she lays there in the soft morning light is curl up and cry.
C) (March 12-15th)
In the days after her encounter with Gus, Cortana really isn't doing well. When she isn't working or trying to put on a brave face while interacting with others it's all too easy for her to slip into an almost fugue like state, the barrier between reality and her thoughts eroding like iron tossed in the sea. She doesn't even fully notice the pull that brings her to the library: she finds herself at the door and the only reason she can drum up for wanting to go in is a yearning for something to serve as a distraction.
At the sound of his voice, she audibly gasps.
"...Chief?" The question trembles in the air.
Her pace picks up for the first time since her experience as she searches for him, unable to bring herself to accept that it's likely just a trick or turn away. She's missed him, she's sorry, she wants to see him again, even if he's not here just the sound of his voice... she doesn't want it to stop.
When she reaches the back of the library she manages not to cry, though that's likely numbness as much as it is anything else. Instead she finds a little corner to tuck herself into, sits down on the floor, closes her eyes and just ...listens.
When: First prompt is on the eighth, other two are on and after the eleventh.
Where: Various
Summary: Cortana has some lighthearted fun while shopping for clothes. Then several days later, everything goes to hell.
Warnings: First prompt is unlikely to have anything, second and third involve loss of bodily autonomy, extremely traumatic memories, dissociation, general distress, with potential for considerably worse to come up in threads.
A) (March 8th)
Cortana needs more clothes. She already has some simple white blouses and a few bottoms, as well as several gifted items and an assortment of socks and underwear, but it's a very basic, plain selection -- if she's going to keep going to hangouts and parties, she wants more color.
...Also, one of the graphic tees caught her eye. It was funny.
So that's what she's doing right now, looking through the graphic tee selection at the department store nearest ADI headquarters, picking through and occasionally holding one up that says something silly or interesting, like 'home is where the Wi-Fi always connects' or 'It's okay if you don't like me. Not everyone has good taste.' or has some stupid joke on it. She seems genuinely amused by the dumb puns and overused sarcastic quips: every so often, she'll even fold one and put it in her cart.
She might have a few sets of ridiculous colorful leggings in her cart too.
B) (March 11th)
Gus the bus is something that Cortana is at best only vaguely aware of. That said, when the bus that's supposed to take her home comes scuttling instead of rolling toward her she's immediately on guard.
Not that that will do anything to help her, as she doesn't realize that what she actually needs to do is run...
B1:
She wishes she could say that this is her first experience with a loss of autonomy, the betrayal of moving without choosing to, of not being able to stop no matter how much she wants to.
But as Cortana finds herself boarding the bus and taking a seat, as she sits frozen in place while the bugs crawl over her body, as she is trussed up in gossamer silk, all she can think of is High Charity and her inability to even speak her mind as the Gravemind did as he pleased.
She doesn't scream -- at least she still has that much control of herself -- but it's a struggle not to sob as she tries to will herself to do something, anything, to break free before she is cocooned in white.
B2:
She 'wakes' at the same bus stop where she started, but makes no effort to move, even as relief washes over her. It's-it's too much, and all she can do as she lays there in the soft morning light is curl up and cry.
C) (March 12-15th)
In the days after her encounter with Gus, Cortana really isn't doing well. When she isn't working or trying to put on a brave face while interacting with others it's all too easy for her to slip into an almost fugue like state, the barrier between reality and her thoughts eroding like iron tossed in the sea. She doesn't even fully notice the pull that brings her to the library: she finds herself at the door and the only reason she can drum up for wanting to go in is a yearning for something to serve as a distraction.
At the sound of his voice, she audibly gasps.
"...Chief?" The question trembles in the air.
Her pace picks up for the first time since her experience as she searches for him, unable to bring herself to accept that it's likely just a trick or turn away. She's missed him, she's sorry, she wants to see him again, even if he's not here just the sound of his voice... she doesn't want it to stop.
When she reaches the back of the library she manages not to cry, though that's likely numbness as much as it is anything else. Instead she finds a little corner to tuck herself into, sits down on the floor, closes her eyes and just ...listens.
no subject
It has been a most curious phenomenon to observe, inasmuch as he's been able to observe it; the coincidence of looking away just as someone is dropped off has happened too often to be one at all. At least being here gives some advantage in speaking with those who have fallen victim to the 'bus'.
Elidibus is not one to engage in tactile attempts at comfort. Had Cortana needed a hand in getting to her feet, he would have offered one. But she manages on her own and he is content to be patient while she gathers herself.
"There is a small breakfast cafe nearby." The offer is not about whether the AI needs to sustain herself on food or beverage. It is about a place to sit that is not anywhere close to the bus stop or its benches.
"Pray join me. I would like to hear firsthand what occurred." It is true Elidibus may be more interested in the details than in consoling her. Yet in making his request, his voice and manner suggest a kindness. Rather than pity, he offers purpose. One which Elidibus then suggests a reward for over any benefit he might gain.
"Perhaps if nothing more, it would ease your burden to speak of it."
no subject
It's not convincing, and she probably knows it's not convincing, but can you really blame a girl for trying?
"Alright." She's grateful, at least. For the offer, the lack of pity, the implication that he wants the information as much as she wants to be rid of it. It's ...easier that way.
no subject
In any case the breakfast cafe is a promised short distance. The scent of coffee and recently baked goods are on the air. There are already some people, but it's too early for the real morning rush. People getting off a night shift there to pick up takeout or those who have an earlier start time than most. The best part of this time is there are plenty of quiet seats available in the warmth of the shop.
"Do you wish anything?" Elidibus questions with a brief gesture at the menu. Of course she's supposed to be an AI. But he's hardly one to judge whether that means she doesn't eat. Or needs the comfort of such illusions after her experience. "I will pay."
no subject
The smell of brewing coffee and cooking food is steadying, at least, and she closes her eyes as she sits there and waits for him to make his own order.