kore_logs | [open] a friend in need's a friend indeed

Entry tags:

[open] a friend in need's a friend indeed

Who: Ned and OPEN
What: Random encounters & fallout from dream-walking tomfoolery
Where: House 20, the garden, anywhere around town
When: Day 89

It's been a long week. A long, mostly-sleepless, weird week during which Ned has seen far more of his friends' and neighbors' subconsciouses than he would have liked to. Plus, a creepy city made of crystals that everyone seems to have seen, but no one will claim as their own. Shady stuff. Today, he is determined to wear himself out. Perhaps if he's tired enough, whatever mojo the men behind the curtain have put on him won't be strong enough to stir him out of a deep and dreamless sleep.

It's probably a futile tactic, but he can't just do nothing.

So he is a bustle of activity - cleaning the house, walking around town, checking on the crops to see if they are holding up well (carefully, with an eye for any enterprising tigers roaming too close to the edge of the forest), keeping an eye out for new faces and an ear out for rumors of missing ones.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ned nods. He understands quite well. He thinks of that last dream of Meyer's, with the four of them on their knees being shot one by one. Threats of violence are the currency that the two of them are accustomed to. Ned has lived under the shadow of potential violence for two decades, but it's a very different kind of violence and a very different kind of threat: nowhere near as present, as concrete, as pervasive.

He's only half-listening when Charlie asks about the lighthouse, and he shrugs, "I've never seen the light on at night, so probably not. Apparently it's haunted, or at least made to seem like it's haunted. Daneel told me there have been incidents." Ned doesn't believe in ghosts, not really, but there are ways to fake such things, and anything is possible in this place.

"Incidents? Like that ain't fucking ominous, huh?" Really, sometimes this place just looses points for subtly. His cigarette is nearly done, which makes his scowl. Dammit, he was hoping to make it last the whole conversation.

"I don't think anyone got hurt. Just frightened," Ned is quick to add. Charlie is frowning up a storm and it seems to Ned that it can't just be about the lighthouse being broken and possibly haunted. He's been through a lot these last few days, as they all have. First, Meyer being mauled by the tiger, then the nightmares, now this. Even if he's not a control freak like Meyer, Ned can't imagine it's a terribly comfortable position to be in.

He crosses his arms. This talk of how dangerous things are in this place has reminded him of a question he'd been meaning to ask. "Listen, is Meyer healing okay? I would ask him, but I don't tink he'd appreciate that very much. Seems like he wants to pretend he's invincible."

This makes Charlie pause in his frowning, and actually laugh. A lot more genuinely than his usual grins half-veiled in threat.

"Yeah, he's always been fucking like that. Shoulda seen it when had to get his appendix out." He throws the last of his cigarette down onto the rocks, stamping it out. "He's alright. In less pain, I thinks, still can't move around that fast, drives him fucking nuts." Of course non of this is anything Meyer ever said to him. He's just known the guy long enough to be able to read him damn well.

It's gratifying to hear Charlie laugh, even if that hadn't been the intended effect of his question. That smile Charlie gets when he's talking about how stubborn Meyer is makes so much more sense to Ned, now. Whatever the two of them have may be complicated (and is, Ned can infer), but there's an affection there that he's starting to recognize.

"I can imagine," he says. He's glad to know that Meyer is healing well, is in less pain than he was - particularly since he's so inclined to hide when he is. "I know it's not my place, but you might want to make sure he sees Bruce again one of these days, to check nothing's infected. I doubt he'll go on his own, and it's important." Ned doesn't remember how much people knew about infections and germs and things in the 1920s. Better safe than sorry.

Charlie nods in agreement. "I'll make sure he does."

There is something nice about not having to hide that affection in his voice, the way he smiles when he talks about Meyer. It's such a default state of being for him, to scowl and make cracks and try not to look like he gives a shit about anything, or anyone. He's getting s sense of how things are different in Ned's future, and it's fascinating just as much as it's fucking terrifying.

"So, people still get married in your future?" He'd be very surprised if they did.

Ned's not really sure where Charlie is going with this, but he's more than happy to answer, "Yes, they do, though divorce is more common than it was in your time. Why?"

This must have something to do with Charlie and Meyer; Ned can't imagine it's a complete non-sequitur. Perhaps Meyer mentioned that standards are different in the future, and Charlie wants to know more for himself.

"You're serious? I dunno, just figure it's getting old fashioned even by 1920." Apparently not. There goes that spark of progress he was looking for in his lifetime.

"Oh." That wasn't at all the answer he was expecting. It had never really occurred to him, that someone from Charlie's era would already be thinking that marriage was an outdated institution. "I should have said that it's also acceptable to live with someone without marrying them. To have kids and spend your life together without ever making it official. It's not... required in the same way. I mean, depending on who you ask, of course. And..." he hesitates now, not sure if he should proceed, but deciding to go for it, "It's different in some other ways, too. Men can marry other men, and women can marry women."

"Some people's been doing that. Ain't being so open about it, though." The not marrying and living together and having kids and all that. The second part gives him more pause. He wishes he still had his cigarette, so he could have something to do with his hands. He feels fidgety again all of a sudden and stuffs them in his pockets instead. "Yeah? That's something, ain't it."

"It's a pretty recent development," Ned says, which isn't really an agreement or a disagreement with Charlie's assessment. He seems... perturbed. Ned doesn't look at Charlie, though he sees his twitchiness out of the corner of his eye. He's just going to go on and pretend he doesn't notice, because that seems the only polite thing. It's what he would want, if the tables were turned.

"Anything else you'd like to know? About the future or... anything?" It's a fairly open offer, but Ned can always refuse to answer if Charlie asks him anything too intimate. Meyer had been brimming with questions, and Ned thinks he understands a little bit. He's grilled Daneel plenty about marriage and morals and mores in the future.

"Naw. It's all kind of giving me a headache, y'know?" It's just so much information, so much to get through. But then again, he's making his best attempt at this 'friendliness' thing and he doesn't want Ned to think he's just blowing him off. "Unless you gots anything else you thinks I would need to know."

Ned nods. He isn't sure he can know exactly, but he has some inkling. Charlie's being bombarded with information about the future, just after a rather important discussion of a rather huge secret of his, and all this on the heels of who knows how many days of troubled sleep. All of that sounds like quite the concoction for an aching skull.

"What do you mean, need to know?" That's a rather ambiguous category. Is he trying to imply something in particular, and Ned just isn't picking up on the signal. Hoping to be helpful, he offers, "You can always ask me things later. As they occur to you, if they do."

"I dunno. Seems like there's so much shit we don't know about, ain't even sure what I'm still fucking in the darks about." It's probably obvious from the way Charlie picks up a stray stone and hurls it into the water that it's not a feeling he enjoys particularly. He knows he's not the smartest guy in the room, especially considering most of the rooms he hangs out in tend to contain either Meyer or AR, or often both. He's got no delusions that he could ever know more than those two, and he's mostly fine with it.

But doesn't mean it doesn't sting to be made to feel like a fucking idiot in this place. Everyone's some so far ahead of them, with their fucking futuristic crap and all this information he can't even think of. It makes him feel small, and insignificant, and if there's one thing Charlie hates more than anything it's that.

Ned's eyes follow the trajectory of the rock that Charlie throws, wondering what is the best approach to placate him. Tell him about the future? Or will that just make his head hurt even worse? And besides, Ned thinks, the actual contents of that conversation are not likely to exactly cheer Charlie up.

He takes a different approach, "If you'd like, sometime I can go over the highlights with you, like I did with Meyer." Of course, Meyer may have relayed the information, but Ned also thinks it is possible that he didn't. He'd seemed... quite upset, after all. If Charlie does take him up on this offer, he's going to go about it in a much smarter way than he did then.

"But if I were you I wouldn't worry too much about not knowing. It's not like any of it matters in this place, anyway."

"Meyer tolds me some of it. Heards we got another war coming up in a few years." It was hard not to prioritize the thing about to happen in their life times. The Depression sounds like it's gonna be real fun, too.

"You said the guy you're seeing, he's from your future, rights?"

"Yeah. Kind of a big one." To say the least. Ned doesn't like thinking about that - about what might happen to one or both of them (or the people they know and love) in the violence of the coming years. His own life has had its anxieties and its dangers, but he's at least never had to live through a war. He can't imagine what it's like. It's beyond the scope of his reckoning.

Ned doesn't know if technically Daneel is from the future of his own universe or the future of some parallel reality, but those details don't seem important to the current conversation. What Charlie appears to be grappling with is his own ignorance about the future, when compared to the other captives here. So he sets aside questions of universes and answers, "He is. From hundreds and hundreds of years ahead of me, and another planet."

"Barely got outs of the fucking last one." Although he won't get into the specifics of how he dodged that particular bullet. Who knows what he'll have to come up with for the next one.

Hundreds of years puts their 80 or so years in a little perspective at least. "Shit, that's gotta be fucking crazy, don't it? The sex must be fucking incredible put up with shit like that every day."

Ned bites his bottom lip, half-tempted to caution Charlie to do absolutely whatever it takes to get out of the next one. As if Charlie couldn't figure that out, himself. Why be ominous, why talk about just how bad it's going to be? Charlie might not even remember when (and if) he gets returned home, and the only result will be potentially making him sick with worry while he's here.

Ned hopes he does come up with something, though. Hopes he doesn't have to live through it personally. He likes Charlie, considers him a friend. Doesn't want to think about him in some uniform with a gun, dying in the middle of nowhere, a single casualty amongst the thousands and the millions. He rubs a hand over his eyes, tries not to worry about things that he has no power to control.

Charlie helps him in that process with his next comment, which has Ned going bright red in the face. Meyer had been extraordinarily delicate in his questions and speculations about Ned's relationship with Daneel. Charlie is... not so much.

"I don't think of myself as putting up with it," he says, because he's not going to comment one way or another on the sex, thanks. "It is a little crazy, sometimes, the things he doesn't know about my time, and the things I don't know about his. But we manage. Just like we manage even though he's a robot and I'm a human." That, more than anything, has been the biggest hurdle between the two of them, but they've been working on it, haven't been letting it get in their way.

"Wait, hold on a fucking second. The fuck you mean, a robot?" He's heard the word before, some play AR wanted to go see or something, and he's pretty sure it's not just some nickname he hasn't heard before.

"I mean..." Ned begins but catches himself. There's something in Charlie's tone that gives him pause. Something that's less like incredulity and more like genuine confusion.

After how upset Charlie had just been saying he is about feeling like he's in the dark about so much, about knowledge he doesn't have access to just because of when he's from, Ned wants to be cautious. So before he answers one way or another he asks.

"Is that... disbelief, or are you really asking me what a robot is?"

He racks his brain for where he heard that word before. Dammit, Meyer is s much better at this.

"I dunno. It's some science-fiction shit, ain't it?"

Oh. Ned hadn't really foreseen this complication. He ought to have, and his own oversight helps him to understand, more immediately and deeply, Charlie's earlier frustrations at everyone being from a later time period than himself.

And now he has to figure out how to explain what Daneel is to Charlie, without sounding condescending, but without confusing him either.

"In your time, and my time, yes. By his time, it's science, but not the fictional kind. He's..." Where does Ned even begin, "He wasn't born, like you or I were born, or like a cat or a dog is born. He was made. Designed and put together and activated, by scientists, using very advanced technology. From the outside he looks exactly like a human being, because... that was the whole point. But underneath he's a bit different. You and I are organic." No, that's probably not going to be helpful. Ned changes tactics, "Basically, we're mostly made of meat. But he's mostly made of metal. He doesn't have to do stuff like eat or sleep because he has a different sort of power source."

There are other nuances, important ones, but he's starting with the basics here. They can get to postironics later, when Charile's ready, and if he's interested.

Yes this may take some time to all sink in. He stares at Ned openly for a while, brain trying to work through exactly how that works. Metal men, who look the same as normal people from the outside. Sounds like a fucking nightmare.

His brain can't help but wonder exactly how the sex works, either. Admire his restraint at not asking.

"That sure is one fucking mess."

He's not surprised Charlie is staring at him with overt disbelief and confusion and surprise. Ned, after all, had a frame of reference for robots, and he had gaped like a guppy when he'd first met Daneel. He'd thought - he remembers with a retroactive warmth - that he was being pranked.

"What about it seems like a mess to you?"

Because it's not - not to Ned's mind, anyway, but he can't know what's going on in Charlie's brain unless he says it out loud. He, unlike a couple of notable people around here, is not a mind-reader.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

/casually had to look up when Rossom's Universal Robots came out

that is some quality tag research, that is

yep some high quality googling. Alas Metropolis only came out in 1927

yeah gosh ned check your 21st century privilege

no subject

no subject