2023-10-31: Names

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  • Log: Names
  • Cast: Shelby Korts, Eight Orlodhari
  • Where: Eight's Apartment, Magallanica
  • OOC - IC Date: October 31, 0097
  • Summary: Shelby shows up to repay some favors--and gets a hint to go see Captain Orlodhari. They have a good talk in a variable amount of quiet.


<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.


        With everything going on, making sure you keep up friendly relations -- and paying back favors -- is unabashedly a Good Thing, especially when you belong to a clandestine organization adjacent to the Three Ships Alliance and their leadership. Especially when you leave a lot of questions hanging overhead after a battle at a psychic torment nexus. After Rita, Zoltan, Yuliana, and Shelby make their move, after Jona Basta's rescue, after--

        -- after the visitor that arrived at the Ra Mari II, looking for the pink-haired telepath.

        Under the guise of a nondescript shipping company out of the Sides, the delivery for the converted Zentradi ship is repaired or replacement components and parts, as well as a whole-ass chassis for a Mobile Suit's left arm that was bolted onto the Jagd Doga in the extremely tight window of time between sorties. Shelby might've snuck a minute to visit old friends, though more importantly, as the last of the crates were being unloaded in the bay, she was given a folded piece of paper with an address. She should go see the Captain while she's here.

        Of course, she walks most of the way, and takes transit as required. It gives time for calls to be made, and for the telepath to see the sights along the way until she makes it to the residential bloc. Earbuds tucked in and music playing, it keeps the Noise down until she actually makes it to the apartment door as the beat thumps in her ears. The newtype glances down at the paper just one more time to make sure she read it correctly.

        Shelby's dressed in her most nondescript outfit possible-- which is to say another hoodie and t-shirt with her compression sleeves, leggings, and beaten old sneakers, though most of her hair is slicked back under a large baseball cap. Clicking her music off, the pilot jabs the buzzer with a quick poke before stepping back from the door, hands lightly clutching the strap of her messenger bag.

<Pose Tracker> Eight Orlodhari has posed.


There were a lot of questions raised back then. At the time, Eight was willing to let matters slide, given the situation. Enba was handling most of the calls anyway. But now...

Well, now she's not actively thinking about it because she's very busy, but she's about to have a chance to think about it.

As it happens, Enba Rezza is behind this particular meeting, too.

There are a few sights; the colony is not quite bustling but is being built up rather quickly, and the residential bloc in question was once home to a lot of Vist's employees. Many of them have elected not to stay in the territory with their jobs changed or removed, and so instead Eight has apartments with her parents next door.

Shelby might pick up on a bit of noise as Eight comes to the door--the hope that the doorbell won't wake the twins just yet, bubbling up from Eight's mind easily.

She opens the door, and then smiles brightly. "Shelby!" she answers.

Eight: not pregnant anymore! Though she is dressed more for comfort than for going places at the moment, in loose trousers and a button-up blouse in red.

"What a nice surprise. Come in, come in."

"My husband's napping with the twins at the moment, so it's just us. What brings you by?" She gestures to a seat for Shelby.

<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.


        "Captain! Hi! Hello."

        Shelby plucks her hat off. Her hair is longer than it was before; it's also been a bit since she's had her roots touched up -- at least with the fiery red that's peering through deep against her head, clutching it to her chest. Her mind sorts through some of those lingering thoughts: The door. Twins, sleeping. Wait.

        Before she can continue her own(?) thought, Shelby offers a nervous smile before stepping inside, taking in the apartment with a sweeping look. There's a little bit of envy lingering on her; the young woman's own apartment pretty small by comparison... though living arrangements on Sweetwater are a whole other ghost of a devil to deal with.

        "The, um. Components. Equipment, I borrowed, um. For Denver. We were finally able to... fix them up. Return what we could, replace the rest. I was sent to oversee the delivery," Shelby says, clutching the small paper in both hands for a moment. "Commander Rezza told me to check in with you."

        Slipping off the bag and setting it down, she settles down in the seat carefully, her head swivelling around sheepishly. Her eyes are huge and wide, her voice a bit of a harsh whisper. "Sorry. I. Can come back. I didn't mean to. Um. You know, interrupt. Or make them wake up. You're feeling okay, right? I know. ... A lot happened. Um."

<Pose Tracker> Eight Orlodhari has posed.


Eight smiles. She doesn't correct 'Captain'; she's still a Captain even if she's off duty, after all. Eight notices a little envy, and a little nerves. "The apartment's borrowed," she says. "The Vist employees used to live here. I needed a place to stay off the ship close to the hospital, in case. So, here we are."

Then, the components and equipment... Eight remembers that. "Oh, good," Eight says, and then smiles wryly. "Rezza is a meddler. But I appreciate it." She holds out a hand for the paper, since if she was asked to check it, she might as well look it over. But at that sheepish look, those wide eyes...

"Please, stay," Eight says. "I don't get a lot of company outside my own family lately. I treasure a little interruption." She is grateful to see Shelby. "And they're unlikely to wake up yet anyway; I just fed them a little while ago."

"...I feel good," she says. "Well, no. I feel sore," she says with a laugh. "Because I just had two kids. But emotionally, I feel good. Tired, but it was Rena who went through the worst of it, at Denver. I... I made a promise, to the spirits of the people lost there. To live for myself, and for them too."

"So I'm just trying to keep my promise."

"How about you? And her?" Sophia.

<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.


        Shelby holds out the paper for Eight to take, then tucks her baseball cap to her side in the chair. Adjusting her bangs down-- old lingering scars cresting her hairline -- her hands go back to folding in her lap, glancing around again. "That's cool. I ... my place is... it's kind of crowded. But that's just where I live."

        They're fed, and sleeping, and -- Eight is sore. Shelby's head slants a little as she looks toward the other room, and for a second one would swear she could just see through walls. Dark red eyebrows lift as she says, "Two. It. From you. Two."

        "Whoa." Baby Noise, in her head. She looks back at Eight, hands lifting a little. "I can't believe you had two. You look better though."

        Her hands lower again. Rena. "I didn't know she got caught up in it. I'm glad she's okay. ... she's okay, right?"

        Fingers weave together, thumbs rub against each other in a nervous manner, head slanting as she seems to slow down after a chaotic jump from thought to thought to thought. "I'm doing okay. Had to get a full workup since I was. ... It was bad, for a little bit. As for ... her, um-- it's complicated. She's okay, though."

        Shelby's brow creases. "S... Sorry, also. I should have. ... said something about her. Earlier, I mean. We got to meet this year, and. ... it's complicated."

<Pose Tracker> Eight Orlodhari has posed.


Eight takes the paper and reads it over; assuming everything looks the way it should, she offers it back after a few moments. She notices, but doesn't comment on those scars. Eight has a number herself, after all.

"I hope Magallanica gets a little more crowded," she answers. But then--Shelby looks through the wall... Maybe really through the wall--there are indeed three minds in there, all sleeping. One's an adult with adult dreams, but the other two are wild, unbound by language just yet. ...If still sleepy.

"Yep," Eight answers with a proud look. "Two! From me! It was really hard. But really worth it. ...And I get to keep the guy who helped me make it happen, too." She smiles. "Glad you think so. I can definitely get around easier..."

Then, "Unfortunately, she did. She was caught up in the Psychoframe mass. If you get a chance to see her, I hope you can. But she's..." Hm. Eight hesitate, but her thought says it anyway; Rena is 'okay', but not unchanged. "I think she's recovering well," Eight settles on saying.

Then, Eight moves to take a seat, too. "Sorry to hear it got bad," Eight says. "...It's been a little rough for me, too--with the kids, I couldn't take my old medication regimen, so I've had to find other ways to cope." Pause. "But complicated is all right. I'm glad she's okay."

Eight shakes her head at the apology. "It's fine; if she'd attacked my ship we might be having a different conversation... But she didn't. I understand how complicated family can be. You met her this year? That's even more complicated."

"...Hopefully," she says, "We can have peace, and it won't be so complicated next time. Hopefully."

<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.


        Taking the paper back, Shelby carefully folds it over and lifts the flap to her messenger bag to tuck it inside. "Psychoframe's..." She pauses for a long moment before the flap lowers, sitting upright in her seat. "... it was created for a good reason," she says, perhaps a little Too Knowingly. "Even if Anaheim..."

        The lingering thought that she frequently pushes away comes creeping back, that... Dr. Miguel put her faith in him. Her mouth draws into a flat line, hands scrunching into fists on her lap, a few moments later forcing herself to form a lopsided and sad little grin. "Worse comes to worse. I can ... give pointers on having voices in your head."

        Old medication regimens. Oh right, her body -- and all of that. That makes sense, she surmises, giving a firm nod to the point. "I'm awful about taking mine," she offers after a moment.

        "Ah ... yeah. I'm sorry she had to ... w-we were on the field together when Jona was..." Her hand lifts, making a vague gesture to fill space as she struggles for words. "A mutual connection put us in touch. We've been keeping it quiet, since... my job and hers are."

        Shelby's hands lift, bumping her knuckles together. "Complicated. Yeah."

        "I can't remember anything. Sometimes I get ... flashes. Dreams? But I can't remember things. Sophia's helped me a lot. Even found out my real name: Caedra Beatrix Castellan." Her hands lift a little, fingers fanning out while she gives another small, but more earnest smile. "We both have families now!"

<Pose Tracker> Eight Orlodhari has posed.


"..." Eight is thoughtful, when Shelby says it was created for a good reason. The worries about it are easy to find; Eight doesn't do well even with standard psycommu, let alone Psychoframe... But, "I guess the Psychoframe did let me reach Rena, when she needed me," Eight says. It's some effort, but she can remember that.

Eight spots the sadness in that grin, and can't quite smile back at it. "We can at least help each other out, right? Even when things happen."

Shelby is awful about taking hers. "That makes me feel a little better," Eight admits. "I still can't go back on them, for a while..."

But, "I see. Yes, from what I know of what you do, it would be... complicated," she agrees. Since she knows what Sophia does and it isn't very secretive.

"Caedra," Eight repeats. "It's a pretty name. Would you like me to use it?" she asks. Then, she smiles back, more warmly. "We do. That's great, isn't it? It's a wonderful feeling."

"I'm glad she can help you. I still don't remember being a little kid," Eight admits, and glances over her shoulder toward the other room, "But I'm hoping we can all figure it out together."

"But tell her if you would that I'd like to see her again under more peaceful circumstances."

<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.


        "It can create miracles if we let it."

        She's borrowing words from Rita, maybe, but they're words that she believes. Easing back in the chair a little, letting herself relax some. "Well. Don't tell my doctor," the newtype says, stifling a chuckle. Or her mechanic. God, if Anser found out. "You'll be okay. You're two kids tough."

        "Thank you, but" she replies to the compliment. "I... dunno. It's still a little new. Strange, but good. I don't know who I was, and. Who I am is..." Another pause as her eyes press shut, concentrating, focusing on words. "... not ... clear. I've been using 'Shelby' for now, still."

        Though she occasionally catches herself repeating the name to herself in the mirror. It's her name, right? She's figuring out if it fits, if she's okay with being called it--

        "If it helps, I don't remember it either," the pink-haired young woman says, pushing her glasses back up. "But I'm sure you'll do fine. You've got a lot of crew to help you out." A beat, and then an amused, "And also Chovan."

<Pose Tracker> Eight Orlodhari has posed.


Miracles...

"That's true." It's what worries her, sometimes. But she doesn't dwell. Instead she laughs a little herself at the matter of not telling Shelby's doctor. "Lips sealed," she assures her, before nodding. "...Yeah. I've come this far."

"That's fair," Eight says. "When I learned I had a 'name' that wasn't Eight... I thought about it, for a while. Thought about using it." A pause. "When you figure out who you are... Then you'll know, I think. No, not figure out. Decide. It's not something you learn from someone else; it's something you build for yourself."

Shelby will work. "It does. ...But thanks." Then a laugh. "You know her, don't you? She's a great friend to me. When she's not up to things that'll probably cause headaches later."

<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.


        A flicker of an image-- an impression-- of a slightly younger Shelby Korts with far longer red hair and a fierce expression not unlike that of her older sister-- but still just as perma-tired as she is now, in some uniform or another. "We knew each other back in ... other times," Shelby says, with a nervous laugh. "Ah ... I was a lot different back then."

        "But I um. Thank you. I'll think about that. It's kind of rare having someone that. ... Understands that. It's not that I don't like the name, it just ... I'm trying to ... well, yeah. I. Yeah," Shelby says, travelling the loop in her mind again.

        A hanging moment of silence -- for some, anyway, as taking a moment to pause and collect her thoughts lets lingering voices in the vicinity whisper and chatter uncontrolled on the periphery of the glasses-clad girl's senses.

        "A-Anyway, yeah, I-- I'll try to see if I can speak to Rena before I go, too. If everyone's got time. I've got a few other stops to make, so we're not gonna be in port for too long."

<Pose Tracker> Eight Orlodhari has posed.


Other times. That, between the age range Shelby must've been in that moment, gives Eight a little insight--into where Chovan used to be. And thus where Shelby used to be. "She tells me so was she," Eight answers, ssteady.

"Right," Eight says. Maybe Shelby can't explain it, but Eight knows what it's like, at least. She made one choice; maybe Shelby will make that one, or maybe a different one. And then Eight, at least, does experience a moment of silence.

From the other room, minds stir. From farther away, Eight's parents are in the next door apartment.

"That's a great idea," Eight says. "I'll let her know to expect you, if you want." Then, she considers. That has the feeling of her not wanting to take up all of Shelby's time, but...

"Do you want to meet them?" Eight wonders. "The twins. They don't have a lot to say yet, but they like meeting new people."

<Pose Tracker> Shelby Korts has posed.


        "Yeah, definitely. She's got my number I think. I--"

        All of the past and future collapses into a single moment; a thousand and one thoughts and perhaps all of them are close to being her own. A world that never was, and never is. A world that could be or must not be, and all of them happening simultaneously. The void swallowing her and the void rejecting her; the infinite greatness and splendor of time careening through the mind of Shelby Korts at break-neck speeds only possible in those old relic Colony Cars of the 0080s hitting 50km/h.

        Do you, Shelby Korts
                Caedra Beatrix Castellan
                        want to meet the twins.

        Like she's being granted permission to see into the Ark of the Covenant, she lets out the most solemn and serious and cheerful undercurrent,

        "Yes. Absolutely."