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Entry tags:
REPORT 031 :: ALONE // VOICE | WRITTEN
[ACTION | MORNING]
[Daisy's eyes continued to stare where Keimi's head used to rest as she woke up.
Her room had been left alone three weeks ago. She didn’t know why she kept resting in the same position as if Keimi had remained in Luceti. It was the same smidge of hope she kept that she would return with her memories, even if day and day she tried writing a filter for Keimi that always failed. She just did the same mechanical motions to stand up, bathe, dress, and eat before going to work
She didn’t lock herself up, she didn’t cry, she didn’t lose her discipline the slightest, or forsake her duties. Instead, she became what Spartans did in times of extreme stress. What she reverted to at many times during Harvest. How John coped with everything he had ever seen and done.
She just functioned.
SPARTAN-023 continued her project on what they found underground, she continued to help those that would request help, she would continue her exercises and training sessions, and she would continue to meditate. But there was a reason in all of it. The second she fell into the temptation to skip one day from her tasks, even like this, she would be falling into a deeper hole. Social tasks took a secondary priority.
Those that might have seen her within those days, after Keimi left, will notice that her eyes had turned glassy -- with a perpetually tired look. In spite of her maintained uniform, she is now attempting to cope. And she is fearing she is failing.]
[ACTION | NIGHT]
[Too punctually, she returns to the self-appointed time to sleep. Even this took priority on how to behave. Sleep, she knew, was an important weapon... as hard as it became to do so now.
Daisy sits on her bed. She lets herself watch the other side of her bed once again...
… she hears rushed steps. A group is running here. Heavy.
Metallic.
SPARTAN-023 grabs her broadsword. Her teeth clench. Her pupils dilate as her eyes widen for the first time in months as every part of her drove itself for the kill. She timed the moment they would come--
They break the doors. She moves to slice with far more hatred than she ever had against any alien or any cultist, and almost ignores the pain of their moves trying to subdue her as she screams in anger to use her own hands to rip them apart with far too much instinct.
She tears one apart, she stabs another against the wall to pummel it until only dent and cracked plates remained, the last ones moves to grab its’ broken companions--
The woman only continues to attack viciously and trying to break one of its legs, but even she only gets to remove a forearm when the last droid leaves with everything that could be considered dangerous for the residents to have.
She stares for a long time at the door, still holding on to her sword. Before she knows it, it is over.]
[Daisy’s irises widen back to normal when it all ends. It takes her a while to pace her breathing as her heart even took longer to do the same as it hammered her chest. She looks at the disaster the fight brought over along with the tracks that were left behind by the droids before picking their pieces and running, then at her own injuries. Blunt body trauma, strained tendons, blood on her forehead... but she was otherwise alright.
She grabs her helmet for a brief transmission for those that would use radio, communicating a need for assistance, keeping an even voice. Then, she tried taming her hand to write on the journal.]
[TEXT]
Requesting Medevac
CH5, Floor 1, Room 2
Journal, Radio Freq. 84.2 preferred, SPARTAN-23
# Patients - 1C - Priority
1A - No special equipment needed
1B - No litter needed
P - Possible hostile presence
E - Broken door
A - UNSC personnel
All clear of NBC contamination
[Daisy's eyes continued to stare where Keimi's head used to rest as she woke up.
Her room had been left alone three weeks ago. She didn’t know why she kept resting in the same position as if Keimi had remained in Luceti. It was the same smidge of hope she kept that she would return with her memories, even if day and day she tried writing a filter for Keimi that always failed. She just did the same mechanical motions to stand up, bathe, dress, and eat before going to work
She didn’t lock herself up, she didn’t cry, she didn’t lose her discipline the slightest, or forsake her duties. Instead, she became what Spartans did in times of extreme stress. What she reverted to at many times during Harvest. How John coped with everything he had ever seen and done.
She just functioned.
SPARTAN-023 continued her project on what they found underground, she continued to help those that would request help, she would continue her exercises and training sessions, and she would continue to meditate. But there was a reason in all of it. The second she fell into the temptation to skip one day from her tasks, even like this, she would be falling into a deeper hole. Social tasks took a secondary priority.
Those that might have seen her within those days, after Keimi left, will notice that her eyes had turned glassy -- with a perpetually tired look. In spite of her maintained uniform, she is now attempting to cope. And she is fearing she is failing.]
[ACTION | NIGHT]
[Too punctually, she returns to the self-appointed time to sleep. Even this took priority on how to behave. Sleep, she knew, was an important weapon... as hard as it became to do so now.
Daisy sits on her bed. She lets herself watch the other side of her bed once again...
… she hears rushed steps. A group is running here. Heavy.
Metallic.
SPARTAN-023 grabs her broadsword. Her teeth clench. Her pupils dilate as her eyes widen for the first time in months as every part of her drove itself for the kill. She timed the moment they would come--
They break the doors. She moves to slice with far more hatred than she ever had against any alien or any cultist, and almost ignores the pain of their moves trying to subdue her as she screams in anger to use her own hands to rip them apart with far too much instinct.
She tears one apart, she stabs another against the wall to pummel it until only dent and cracked plates remained, the last ones moves to grab its’ broken companions--
The woman only continues to attack viciously and trying to break one of its legs, but even she only gets to remove a forearm when the last droid leaves with everything that could be considered dangerous for the residents to have.
She stares for a long time at the door, still holding on to her sword. Before she knows it, it is over.]
[Daisy’s irises widen back to normal when it all ends. It takes her a while to pace her breathing as her heart even took longer to do the same as it hammered her chest. She looks at the disaster the fight brought over along with the tracks that were left behind by the droids before picking their pieces and running, then at her own injuries. Blunt body trauma, strained tendons, blood on her forehead... but she was otherwise alright.
She grabs her helmet for a brief transmission for those that would use radio, communicating a need for assistance, keeping an even voice. Then, she tried taming her hand to write on the journal.]
[TEXT]
Requesting Medevac
CH5, Floor 1, Room 2
Journal, Radio Freq. 84.2 preferred, SPARTAN-23
# Patients - 1C - Priority
1A - No special equipment needed
1B - No litter needed
P - Possible hostile presence
E - Broken door
A - UNSC personnel
All clear of NBC contamination
[Action]
But...]
Orchids.
... I've always liked them. How the grow. It's what I remember the most. I couldn't wait until the time was right to grow them.
[Action]
[Those qualities definitely describe Daisy, Ami thinks. Perhaps never more than right now, when she's hurting but moving forward anyway.]
They suit you.
[Action]
From the haziest memories she has of her parents, she wonders if they ever told her the same in the times she spent in those gardens.]
Thank you. [She mutters.] I just remember liking the colors... and doing so even now.
[Slowly, another hand comes to hold Ami's.]
[Action]
It's no wonder that they grow well for you.
[Action]
After I got in Luceti, I just felt this would be something good to learn. I only remembered its name because of military guides. But with everything here...
[Eventually, they reach the rooftop to their garden. It had grown after the rains, and they still had work to do... but it was otherwise alright.]
I just wanted to make them someday.
[Action]
[It was a little like Ami hoping she'd inherited something from her father as well as her mother. She smiles quickly as she spies their plants,s till in good condition. She doesn't mind the work to tidy it up.]
There's something satisfying about it, I think: seeing your work and looking at everything once it's finished and cleaned up. [Which they will start to bring about... now.]
[Action]
She moves back, and hugs Ami.]
I know. And I'd like to see that. When we finish.
[Action]
[Action]
Yeah...
[Before moving on to the flora, she stops only for a second.]
...
And thanks. For being here.
[Action]
I'm always glad to spend time with you. Actually, I sort of wish we could do it more often.