Prisonstuck IX

[polariity]

[By this point, it's been a few weeks since he's been with Dualscar, and he's adjusted to it. The seadweller doesn't always stay at the hive, which is understandable. Someone of his caste is expected to stay busy. Each time he returns, the Psiioniic nearly clings to him, wanting to hear news- or even lack of it- concerning his three friends.]

[Besides that, on his own, the Psiioniic mostly sticks to the library. Occasionally he explores the large hive again, wondering if anything has changed. It's a calm routine. For someone like him, it nearly feels unnatural.]

[...Which is quite possibly one reason explaining why, one night, he manages to get a hold of yellow dye and interrupts a drone on laundry duty. The next night, and it's done.]

[A bored rebel psionic was a disaster just waiting.]

[By now, he's stayed in the kitchen, idly chattering at his drone as he watches the kitchen worker make breakfast. It's almost like he's entirely forgotten about his little prank.]

[Which he hasn't, but he needs something to do to pass the time until it's discovered.]

Comments

[badpirattitude]

I knoww.

[Believe him, he does.]

There's a frequency that only the helmsmen use. No one else listens to it.

[Dualscar knows of this frequency, but has never used it, since he doesn't have a helmsman.]

You'd have to be careful, and not give anything awway, but you could listen in... and talk to them if you wwished.

[polariity]

[Gently, he reaches over to cup his hands around Dualscar's so he can rub his fingers over his knuckles.]

I'd like that.

oh god, this is going to be depressing as fuck, isn't it? a channel of helmsmen talking

[badpirattitude]

All right.

[Dualscar shyly gives the Psiioniic's hands a squeeze before he takes them back and starts fiddling with the device.]

Maybe wwe should just listen in at first.

[He taps into the network, logging in as the HMS Landhag, and dials the device over to the helmsmen channel. As a captain, he's allowed to listen in, but no one ever does.]

There.

[He folds his hands on the table and listens as the voices start to filter in.]

[polariity]

[Listening in is probably for the best. Considering his... feelings towards becoming a Helmsman, the Psiioniic isn't sure if he could be coherent in a reply towards trolls who already are.]

[Taking a deep breath, he subconsciously huddles against Dualscar and crosses his arms. At first, it's just usual things he imagines that goes on between ships. Coordinates, weather patterns... But then there will be something quieter, something less robotic, more troll.]

[Damage to the ship, making it harder to move, but the captain keeps making him push on and on and it hurts. One has been newly 'commissioned', and every biowire drives her nearly mad with pain- it's obvious in the way her voice trembles, and how the facts she gives break down into static and sobbing and pleas for it to stop. And she's not the only one, just the newest and unused to it. There are other voices which tremble, other confessions of the pain, whispers of how they just want to go. But there's always someone. Someone who responds, who whispers reassurances and confidence and 'it'll all be over soon's.]

[It makes him tremble. Hard. His fingers dig into his arms and for some reason it is hard to breath.]

[badpirattitude]

[There's a reason Dualscar never listens to this frequency. There's a reason the captains in general never listen to this frequency, unless they absolutely have to; even for the coldest highblood, there's so much pain here, so much agony, that it's palpable, a physical presence in the room. Even the drones, who can't understand what's being said, feel it, and are unusually quiet and still.]

[He can feel the Psiioniic huddling against him and shaking, and he puts an arm around him, holding him close against his side. Then the newest helmsman, the one with fresh biowires, breaks down into unconsolable sobs that even the quiet, gentle whisperings of the older helmsmen can't fix, and he flips off the device.]

[The silence is almost deafening.]

[polariity]

[It's impossible to stop shaking, even with Dualscar's grip around him. Old scars are beginning to ache, and he knows that it's only a tiny, insignificant representation of waits for him.]

[And he won't have anyone else to whisper to him and tell him things will be alright.]

[His claws are digging into his clothes and tearing at them, leaving scratches and shallow cuts on the skin beneath. He needs to hold onto something, himself, or else he'll break apart, he just knows it.]

[badpirattitude]

[This was a bad idea.]

[Dualscar doesn't know what to say. What can he even say? He can't even offer to try and get stationed on the Battleship Condescension, because all he knows are waterships, not airships. There's nothing he can do, he's completely helpless.]

[He pulls the Psiioniic up against him, wrapping his arms around the shaking troll and holding him close. He doesn't try and stop him from clawing at himself, though. That, at least, is something he understands.]

[He can't get the voice of the newest helmsman out of his head. She sounded so young, scarcely more than a wiggler...]

[polariity]

[When he finally gets his voice to work, it's choked with tears.]

They're going to do that to me. [One hand slips away from his arm, and digs into Dualscar's chest.] They're going to thtick wireth into my body, drain me of everything I have, and I can't...

[His body gives a harsh shake and the Psiioniic presses his face against Dualscar's shoulder as the tears stream down his face.]

whelp, for a thread that started with a prank, this got real very quickly

[badpirattitude]

[Dualscar holds on to him, gently stroking the back of his neck, and lets him cry. What can he even say that would be comforting? All he can do is hold him, and give him this brief interlude, this chance at life, this chance to read and eat oranges and be mostly free.]

[His fins are rotating, spinning and moving around his face, repeating I'm so sorry over and over again.]

I could... I could buy that helmsman. The neww one. The one wwho kept crying.

[It's a cold comfort, but it's the best he can do.]

how do we *do* that

[polariity]

Pleathe.

[He wishes he could do more. He wants to do more than just rely on Dualscar to free one suffering psionic when there are so many more in the world and in open space, forced to live their short lives in servitude and pain. Something. Anything.]

[But there's just this.]

I... Thomeone. For once. Thomeone needth to fucking get a break.

miracles

[badpirattitude]

Okay.

[Dualscar waits for the inevitable question, knowing it's probably coming. He does, after all, have an entire fleet of ships under his command, all of whom could use an individual helmsman. In the meantime, he just holds the Psiioniic and rocks him back and forth, his fins fanning forward and lightly brushing the sides of the other troll's face.]

[Meanwhile, his mind is ticking through what he needs to do to acquire the young helmsman. He doesn't mention that by freeing her, the ship's captain will just buy another one. The Psiioniic is smart; he'll figure that out on his own.]

[polariity]

[He's already figured it out.]

[To be frank, it's the kind of thinking which helped to shackle him down before everything. Help one person, and another would take their place in suffering. Why bother?]

[Because doing nothing accomplished nothing.]

[After taking a few minutes to compose himself again, the Psiioniic takes a deep shuddering breath and straightens up. His hand passes over his face, clearing away the tears, and then he's staring at Dualscar. Another moment of silence before he can speak.]

How many?

[He doesn't explain further.]

[badpirattitude]

In the Fleet? Several thousand.

[And that's just in the Naval Fleet, that's not even counting all the starships. But Dualscar chooses not to specify that. He also knows that isn't really what the Psiioniic is asking, and he meets his eyes before he continues.]

On my ships? None.

[polariity]

[Maybe a better troll- possibly stupider too- would just accept those words. But the Psiioniic can't just do that. Not with this, especially.]

That better not be a lie.

[badpirattitude]

It's not!

[Despite the gravity of the situation, Dualscar can't help bristling a little. He gets enough shit from other officers about not using helmsmen, he doesn't need it from the Psiioniic too!]

No ship under my command uses one.

[polariity]

[There's a spark of an argument just waiting to grow into something bigger, but the Psiioniic doesn't do anything with it. He just slumps, nodding dimly.]

...Good.

[badpirattitude]

Hey.

[Dualscar leans down, close enough to fan his fins forward and use them to cup the Psiioniic's face. He doesn't know why, but he likes touching the other troll with his fins, and using them to brush his skin. The Psiioniic hasn't complained about it, so Dualscar assumes that he doesn't mind.]

You're not the only one wwho doesn't like the helmsmen technology, all right? Wwhen wwe get that young one free... I knoww a blueblood wwho owwes me a favor. He can get the biowwiring out.

[Hopefully without killing her. It sounds like she hasn't been a helmsman long enough for the wires to really set in, which is hopeful.]

[polariity]

[Plenty don't like it, but so many still use it and that's the problem. But the Psiioniic doesn't say that. He just nods and sighs into that soft feathery touch. It's like nothing he's felt before, those fins against his face, and it's pleasant. Gently, he leans his head closer and brushes his lips against Dualscar's.]

Alright... Then it'sth a plan.

[The hands which had been tearing at everything just minutes before smooth out against Dualscar's chest.]

Thanksth...

[badpirattitude]

[Shyly, Dualscar kisses him back, and his fins shiver lightly.]

Don't thank me just yet... I still have to talk to the ship's captain.

[He glances down at the silent device.]

I should do that noww, actually. The sooner I get things arranged... the sooner she's free.

[polariity]

You made the offer. I'll thank you enough for that.

[The Psiioniic has been trying to not look at the device. Instead, he simply pulls away from Dualscar reluctantly and stands up. He goes to pat his drone, who had been looking about as nervous as a drone could be.]

...I'm going to go to the library, alright? Let me know how it goeth.

[He's not sure he wants to listen into that conversation.]

[badpirattitude]

[If Dualscar doesn't particularly want to have the conversation, the Psiioniic definitely doesn't want to listen to it.]

Yeah. I'll be up soon to tell you howw it goes.

[Once the Psiioniic and his drone are gone, Dualscar turns the device back on and makes the call. Twenty minutes of arguing over price, fielding jibes about "finally upgrading," and forcing laughter at jokes that just aren't funny, and he's the proud new owner of a junior helmsman.]

[Immediately afterwards, he makes a call to his blueblood acquaintance, and after ten minutes or so of ritualistic hoofbeastshittery, manages to secure a visit in a few days to have biowiring removed.]

[He goes up to the library to tell the Psiioniic the good news.]

[polariity]

[In the half hour Dualscar has spent talking with people, a book fort has been made in the library. At least, it is most certainly some sort of structure made rather expertly out of a great many books. The... entrance seems to have a few oranges placed oddly in front of it, as if they tumbled out from the inside.]

[...Yes, he made a book fort to get rid of nervous energy.]

[Yes, he stuffed oranges inside of it.]

[Yes, he is hiding inside of it.]

[Fucking fight him about it.]

[In all seriousness, it was normally highbloods who had a tendency towards making piles of one item or another to curl up on so that something could calm their dangerous emotional instability. Lowbloods generally were more calm and less of a threat to either themselves or others. However, even they had the latent instinct towards piles if things got too much... and as Dualscar had pointed out once, the Psiioniic was about as mercurial as a blueblood.]

[His drone is sitting obediently outside of the book structure, and perks up at Dualscar's arrival.]

[badpirattitude]

[Dualscar examines the structure, bemused. This isn't the first book pile that's been built in this library, and it probably won't be the last one either, but it is definitely the first one that might get some use.]

[He crouches down outside it, gathering the escaped oranges and--because there's no one around to see, not even the Psiioniic--gives the drones a few affectionate pats on the head.]

Hey. Can I come in?

[polariity]

[A small surprised chirrup escapes the drone, since it's usually the Psiioniic who shows it affection, but it is more than happy to take what it can get.]

[Inside the pile, the a pair of dimly glowing eyes can be seen peeking out before the Psiioniic reaches out, the tips of his fingers just barely managing to press against Dualscar's wrist.]

Yeah. Ith it bad newth? I'm prepared for that.

[The kind of tone hints at someone who is used to bad news, but would love for it to be different.]

[badpirattitude]

[Shush, drone. You'll blow Dualscar's cover!]

[Meanwhile, the seadweller crawls inside the book fort/pile. The space inside isn't really big enough for two adult trolls, but that just makes it nice and cozy. He squeezes in next to the Psiioniic and catches his hand, giving it a gentle pat.]

She's getting dropped off tomorrow.