paradisalogs | But the ghosts that we knew {OPEN};

Entry tags:

But the ghosts that we knew {OPEN};

Who: Carolina and you!
What: Training at all hours of the day. Like sane people do. c:
When: 0400-1200 and 1400-2200 (the gym), 1200-1300 (the kitchen), 2200-2300 (the kitchen)
Where: The gym and the kitchen
Rating: PG-13 maybe for language and/or violence

[Most nights, Carolina couldn't sleep. The near-constant feeling of not being secure or safe enough to shut her eyes kept what adrenaline she had left pumping through her well enough to keep her awake. That said, she can't run on fumes all week long and when she does sleep, she dreams about home. About twin voices screaming her dead mother's name in her head, when plugging her ears only amplifies the sound. About a teammate taking two axes to the chest, from a soldier Carolina had never trusted, never wanted to trust. About another teammate grabbing her around the neck, yanking the AI chips from the back of her neck, tossing her from a cliff like a piece of garbage. About waiting in the snow. About never being good enough. About throwing a lighter.

It's one of those nights when her body forces her to sleep long enough to recharge enough of her battery to somewhat function, but the nightmares don't stay away. They never do. And she wakes up early, in a cold sweat, shaking, screaming. It's enough to keep her awake for another couple days, she hopes, that her body got enough to last her. Two days awake is always too short a time, but she can't get herself to stay awake longer and the four hours or so of sleep are always too long.

So, she's out of bed in an instant, tugging her armor on before all but sprinting down to the gym at 0400, needing a distraction and a purpose to her life.

Or what she could call a life in guilty conscience.]

(ooc: I will have open threads, just tag wherever! Just specify the time please so there can be multiple threads per location. c:

Current threads: South's is around noonish. Church's is before 1400. York's is at 1400. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Bet she's not willing to spar with this one. As part of his standard patrol, York walks by the gym when he notices a familiar sea-foam-green, teal-cyan-whatever color it is armor, and damned if that doesn't make him stop, mad at her though he may be. He'll watch covertly from outside until she looks like she's in the middle of a routine or turned away, and then he walks in casually and takes a spot over on the wall across the room. He can still watch her from here, whether or not she notices him.

Too bad there's not an observation deck.]

[Carolina's working harder than she had been this morning. She'd first set up a couple clay pigeon shooters to shoot clay pigeons at her so she could kick or punch them out of the air. A handful of them were a challenge, but she didn't want a challenge today. She wanted to push herself harder than ever.

Because.

Because her being alive wasn't good enough. Her surviving an attack by her teammate who overpowered her in every single way, whose attack haunted her nightmares and still scared her down to her core. It was a bad thing that she was alive and North was dead. She didn't deserve to be alive.

Sure, she's not trying to outright kill herself, but she's trying to prove that she deserves every breath she takes. But every breath still feels like a lie. Like it should belong to someone else.

Her fight with South has left her raw and bleeding, but she isn't taking the time to patch up those wounds in her head. Pushing herself is the only way she knows how to grieve at this point.

So she sets up seven clay pigeon shooters and as he enters the gym, she's kicking down as many as she can, but two still strike against her armor. And she can't help but be pissed off. She isn't improving.] Dammit!

[Well, no wonder she isn't improving if she's trying to take down seven of them at once. Any idiot knows you start with one or two and work your way up. York sighs as she curses, though they're obviously not doing any physical damage to her.

He knows the way she moves. She's distracted, exhausted--if she doesn't take a break soon, she;s only going to get worse. So what does she do? She comes into the gym and starts training harder than ever before.

He'd really tried to impress on her the importance of relaxation, of pacing yourself, and he'd hoped it would somehow help her and keep her from overreacting, stressing, breaking into pieces. Well, here it didn't work and she's standing out there, and the pieces of clay pigeon aren't the only thing that's broken.

Fuck.]

[Carolina at first doesn't see him as she swallows down that failure, lets it settle in her stomach as a reminder that she doesn't deserve anything, and then sets the clay pigeons to shoot again. Just as she's about to fire them again, she finally spots him there against the wall. There's not much more she can take at this point and seeing him is yet another point of pressure against her rapidly-breaking psyche.]

Get out.

[York shoots down an immature reaction of "you get out". Instead, he keeps his tone cool and stays where he is, far away from her.]

I live here too, you know. The gym is open to everyone.

You're not using it. [She growls out like a wounded animal. The fast he gets out of here, the faster she can get back to training, despite having trained for hours and hours already. Still, he's just sitting there and as far as she can see, doing nothing that requires the gym.]

Actually, I am. I'm working as a spotter. Making sure someone doesn't get hurt by taking on too much at once.

[Because, like it or not, that's exactly what's going to happen. She needs about a week in the Doctor's Zero Room, but she's not going to take it. The least he can do is make sure she doesn't end up breaking a limb on the training room floor.]

I don't need a spotter. I can handle what I'm doing. [And, as if he needed proof or something, Carolina sets the pigeon shooters to go again and maybe it's the extra point of pressure or maybe it's a lucky shot, but she barely manages to knock all seven out of the air. She had to swing her arm at a really painful angle to do so, but she got them down. That's all that matters.] So get out.

[She really ought to be only using five right now, York notes, even if she does get them all with a lucky shot once in a while. Arms aren't really supposed to do that.

York keeps his tone calm.]

Just because you hate me doesn't mean I want to see you get hurt, Carolina.

You already hurt me. [Carolina does note that her elbow does seriously hurt right now. Probably from that last swing, but she's trying to ignore it. Not that she's ever been good with pain.] Get. Out.

And do you have any idea how much I regret it? Your blood is on my hands and I've never forgotten that.

So yeah. I'm making sure you don't hurt yourself. Like it or not.

[Carolina wasn't expecting him to actually admit that he had hurt her, much less mention that he regretted it. She stares for a moment before shaking her head. Has to be yet another lie. Probably waiting to pull the rug out from under her like everyone else.]

So I should let someone who already hurt me spot me. [She shakes her head again.] Get out.

Well, if you'd listen, you'd know it was the last thing I ever wanted. [But damn, she's being self-centered.]

I'll leave if you get another spotter.

[Carolina doesn't care much about what York wants right now. Instead she preps the clay pigeons to shoot again.] And if you were listening, you would know that I don't need a spotter. Get out.

You know, what you say and standard safety procedures don't actually agree with each other. It's not like you have FILSS here to send for a medic if something misfires and you get caught without your journal.

[He shrugs, arms still crossed.]

But have it your way. All I'm trying to do is set a net for when you crash and burn.

[She's about to bark out that those don't apply here, but it seems that he's giving up. So she smirks for only a moment before she sets the pigeons to shoot again. But it's too much. That bit of satisfaction is enough to tip her emotional scale too far and she buckles down to the ground, gripping her head. The voices are back, shadows of what hey had been, but she's crippled for a good few seconds as she goes down.]

[See? See?

Well, before he even really knows what he's doing, York is kneeling down next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.]

Carolina! Hey, are you okay?

[Carolina is barely aware of his touch on her shoulder and she still tries to swat him fervently away, but she can't think through the buzz of Allison, Allison Allison and the headache splitting through her. For a few seconds, it's an unbearable, tight pressure and then it's gone, leaving her breathless, her chest heaving. Her thoughts go silent and just the absence of the voices is so blissful that she laughs with relief.

She probably looks a little crazy.]

[As for York, he sighs in what's obviously relief as soon as she starts laughing, because it means she's not in too much pain. Maybe. He thinks.]

Carolina? You all right?

[Yep, ignoring her attempts to slap away his hand for the moment.]

[Carolina tries to swat his hand away again at the sound of his voice as she wipes the sweat from her forehead with her other hand. For a moment or two, she just wants to focus on breathing, on getting him away from her.]

[Once she starts breathing again, he'll back off a little. Not too much.]

So. See, this is why I was a little worried.

[Carolina still keeps her eyes shut, not wanting to risk the potential pain of exposing them to light right now. She'll try swatting him away again, even if he's not there.]

Do you want any water or anything? What happened?

[Yes, he's setting himself for an "I want you to go away", but he has to ask anyway.]

Get away from me. [She does finally speak, but her voice is quiet and trembling. Like when she'd first woken up after the match with Texas. Her fingers find her way to her forehead again, trying to wipe another layer of sweat away.

No, it's not likely she'll do more training after this.]

Carolina--

[Why does she always have to be like this?]

I want to help you.

Gym - 1400

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reuses same icon over and over

fffff totally cool

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/blatantly stealing from Halo 3

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