thisavrou | [Video]

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[Video]

[A]

So, listen--

[Anybody who pays attention to any of Elizabeth's network activity probably notices something odd about this: it's a video. She uses audio only almost as a rule. But maybe she's not really thinking. It sure looks like she's not up for much deep thinking, if the unfocused way she keeps looking around the bar she's in is any indication. There's a glass in front of her, but who knows how much she's actually had.]

Who here... knows a thing or two 'bout 'attachment'? Because God, I could talk about it for days. About how great it is at first, but then in the end, it utterly destroys whoever it manages to get in its steely little claws. [This is accompanied by a very appropriate 'claw gesture' with all nine and a half of her fingers.]

Because the only thing that's ever constant... [She has an amused little laugh at the word, like it's a private joke.] ...is change? Who wrote that... Hey! [She snaps her fingers over at someone behind her.] Who wrote 'the only change is--' No, 'the only constant is change'? Who wrote that when you're from? ...ah nevermind, you probably couldn't read your own name. [She turns back to the camera, disgruntled noises coming from the insulted party. But Elizabeth doesn't seem concerned.]

What I'm saying is-- nobody warned me, so now... [She points into the camera.] I'm warning you. You start liking somebody, start thinking you have a home someplace, and someday, somehow--

[The camera jerks as Elizabeth takes a punch to her temple. Somebody didn't like being called an idiot by someone half their size. Something close to the camera glows blue and then Elizabeth's got a beer bottle in her hand and she's screaming bloody murder. The feed swings wildly with her hand and cuts out with the sound of breaking glass.]

[B]

[An indeterminate amount of time later...]

[Elizabeth is back at her apartment with a split lip and a bruise under her eye, but she hardly looks embarrassed.]

I meant what I said. Nobody warns you until you're in pain. Consider yourself warned.

[She looks like she could say more, but apparently decides it would just be a rehash. So she turns the feed off.]

((OOC: Feel free to action-ify the first prompt, bar brawl for all. Otherwise Elizabeth will reply to any immediate reactions/messages/jeering the next day!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Alright finish that...go watch tv or stick to the rom-coms...and leave the self help shit to more depressed people.

[She'll look up what 'rom coms' means when she can look at a screen for more than half a second without wanting to crawl into the darkest hole ever to die a painful, hungover death.]

You wanna give me a referral, Doctor Ass Umptions?

[if she keeps this up it won't be long]

Well gimmie a minute I wanna bask in the light of the only official degree I'm gonna have....I don't know, watch a regular cartoon. Go for a walk. Hate to say it, but it'll pass as long as you don't pass on miserable advice.

[Thank God. Meanwhile, listen for the audible eyeroll, Doctor Nails.]

It's not advice, it's the truth. People die, people grow apart, people go back to where they came from without warning here. The goddamn ground could disappear out from under us one day, and I frankly would experience about two seconds of surprise. If you're trying to sell me on the idea that it's great to put your head in the sand and ignore that someday everything and everyone you know will be gone-- that I should take a walk to shake it off-- you can get the hell off my proverbial porch.

Frankly you're practically pissing on all our porches by stumbling around and slurring about shit we already know about. People leave, they die, big whoop.

[sorry Liz........]

It's the way things are. It just is. And unless you wanna turn into a robot there's no helping loving...or hating.

That's sounding pretty good right about now. I hated somebody enough that it got me killed, and I loved that goddamn ship enough that it got me killed again. You'd think I would have figured this out sooner but no-- 'Keep going, Elizabeth!' 'One foot in front of the other.' 'Don't give up now.'

People say that, they've said that to me. And I didn't know any better-- I can't be the only one who didn't know that the universe works exactly the same here as it does in the hole I crawled out of. I've seen people on this network say that this place is paradise compared to where they came from. And superficially, maybe that's true-- but you start thinking 'how much can a pretty face do' and you get your nose caved in by a beer bottle.

[As a random, nonspecific example.]

That sure is specific.

[telling it like it is]

No, you ain't the only one. Not even the only one to make a post like this either, sadly. Aliens who don't got, I dunno, gallbladders, humans, robots in disguise-- doesn't matter if its paradise, you can't just change nature. Of people, of history repeating.

For the record I've got a robot on my ass who is anal as hell about the law, the pun having nothing to do with my actual ass. I don't think it'd be fun to be one of them.

If the metaphor isn't broken, don't fix it.

[Except she's the one with the bashed in face right now, and the pretty lady is hourglass-shaped reality.]

...I'd always thought that surely people, and nature, and probably robots, could do better if they were given time. Or at least do... different-- in a better way. Even if it wasn't perfect yet. But so far, all I've gotten from everyone I've brushed on this subject with is 'same shit, different timeline'. I had real hope that someone would figure out how to get around 'nature', especially when I found myself on a space ship. Humans spend how long developing technology that can allow us to walk out in space, where it's below freezing and there's no air, and they can't come up with anything besides 'the only thing for pain is time'? What the hell kind of sense does that make?

...God. Take me apart if I ever end up a robot obsessed with something as transient and subjective as law. [It's audio, but she still puts the heels of her hands into her eyes because wow this is draining and her head hurts.] I want to be one of those robots that... I don't know... makes toast. Not my fault if it's burnt, you just can't read the little pictures of the bread right.

If you're really after shit like that then find Jesus like everyone else.

Time doesn't do jack. Same pain, different day, maybe a different intensity in ache. Again, until you trade your veins with a robot, you're fucked to be this way. So's life. So you can forfeit it or go through the motions like the rest of us.

It's no one's fault it's burnt. Bread metaphors make me all yeasty.

Oh I found him a long time ago. We didn't get along. Physics, though... there's someone who I understood.

Mm. Maybe I'm just waiting for the right time to forfeit it, then. [It's what she'd done the past two times she'd died-- maybe she just had to keep at it until it stuck. Find one thing after another that was worth kicking the bucket over. Wake up over and over again and wonder what force of science was keeping her alive and why.]

That... actually wasn't a metaphor, I'd probably be thrilled to be a toaster right now. Though I can see why you'd assume that, given I haven't done much else in this conversation besides make metaphors.

It was the sandals that did it, wasn't it.

Most days you can't decide how and when. Sounds like you didn't before either, Frankenstein.

And drink, don't forget that.

...Yeah we'll say it was the sandals. [She really doesn't want to get into My Life as a Twenty-Something Messiah, Somebody Tell My Bastard Fake Father That I'd Rather Go to Paris. Not right now when sitting upright is the best thing she could achieve.]

The first time I knew what I was walking into. The second... [She considers and then sighs.] Yeah. That I didn't see coming.

...and that's Frankenstein's monster to you, sir.

Yes. I'm not going to forget that for a long, long, long time. Good thing I'll never see my father again, he'd shake me so hard, my ears would ring.

Same here. That and one time I tried to sell holy water and the blind priest threatened to put me in a coffin. Live. [this may have happened its uncertain.......]

Never do. Can't go out in one big party.

Excuse me, M'lady. [he'd be tipping his hat but]

You might change your mind after the hangover later.

...you have some wild priests where you're from. [Not like she can talk. The priests from Columbia were something else too-- the Set Yourself on Fire for the Founders kind. Another reason she and religion never really got along.]

Who says? [There's a very faint smirk in her voice there.] Easy to do when you know when and where. Just... have to know the when and where.

Gladly, if you'll read the book.

[She sighs and sits back in her chair.] No, no I really won't. My father was a drunk. He'd, you know, become so full of self-loathing and frustration that he'd drink until he couldn't remember he had an infant who needed to eat. That won't be me-- [Too late.] ...I don't want this to become anything regular, thank you very much.

He's an ass and a lolicon and possibly mixed up in all the bullshit. [basically: yeah

she can't tell, well maybe by his voice, the way his mouth twists into a grim line] No. There's no choosing that.

Nah, I told you I'm not into self help books.

Long as being you don't mean bitching over this thing again, then you're really growing up.

...lolicon? [The hell does that mean? Probably a better thing to talk about instead of going back and forth about whether or not she could see when she died. She could, she doesn't have to argue the point.]

Are you into any books? Because if you aren't, I don't think we can be friends. [Because this is clearly friendship, deep and true, getting irate at this faceless asshole over the Thisavrite internet.]

Let's not get crazy, sir. I'll bitch as much as I feel like. Being grown up is overrated, and I hear if you swipe down, this entire conversation goes away.

Yeah he's blind and somehow into girls in ruffles. I dunno. I don't ask those kinda questions.

[a huff] I'm not just into the tv guide. I like..I dunno, adventures. Mysteries are okay but don't tell anyone I said that. [this is the purest friendship

judging this poor tortured young woman over the network]

This ain't-- [a peal of laughter] That's not how this works, my profile's still there. Bein' grownup is at least taking care of your ass enough not to get all sloppy up here.

['Into'. Blind. Girls and ruffles. What the actual hell.] You're bullshitting me. [Or somebody really should look into what's going on in these churches, good lord.]

Congratulations, we can be friends. [Hey it's okay Badou. Her dad sold her when she was an infant to pay off gambling debts and somehow, she still calls this man her best friend. Kicking her when she's down is the least of what's happened to her.]

Being grown up means making poor choices and having somebody else take the fall for them and/or clean up the mess. I suppose I should be blaming the beer instead of saying I meant what I meant, if I really want to be grown up.

And who cares, really? Who cares what some ancient, crusted veteran of the Moira does when she goes critical mass? Don't tell me you do, Mr. I Don't Like Self Help Books.

I swear on the holy water I didn't nick that it's the truth. [hands over his heart]

Well thank god, I was gettin' worried there.

No, what the fuck-- growing up means wiping your own ass. Only CEOs get other people to wipe for em. That's what a real grown up is. [what the hell does he know he's a baby]

Well it'll be messy. I don't like messy, its complicated. Surely someone'll be sad.

I think your timeline's system of religion is in need of some revolution, then. If... it's not already happening...

[She snorts.] Please. I haven't encountered a single 'adult' person who consistently takes responsibility and doesn't shuffle their screw ups onto some other party. Myself included. I bet even you've done it.

[There's a beat of silence.] You go right ahead and find someone who would miss me, I'll wait.

Sure can't deny that.

I don't exactly got anyone to shove my shit off onto, but I can't deny it either.

Look, I'm not gonna do that cause it ain't my job. It ain't yours either.

[She snorts.] Sure it's my job. I should at least try to figure out how to, you know, not continue to have a miserable, singular life.

But I've been trying a damn long time and I'm just... too hurt to get up again.

Now that's the smartest thing I've heard you say yet. A new record.

You say that, but I dunno if it'll stick that way for long. Not on any account of stubbornness for yourself, but in general. Human generalness.

Shut up, it's the stupidest thing I've said. It's right up there with 'Hold my beer, I'm going back for round two with Mister Nobel Laureate and Friends'.

...so essentially you're encouraging me to go be a robot now. Because that's what I'm getting from all this talk about 'human generalness' and how great for my health it is.

You had a shitty beer? No wonder you're where you're at right now.

No, I'm sayin' suck it up.

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