boothill catchall

[disingenuous]

yee to the haw

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week 0, tuesday

[disingenuous]

[ she's out on the flight deck, enjoying the nice weather. she's so pale the sun would do her some wonders if she doesn't burn. ]

You're not exactly human, right, Boothill?

[ she gestures to his obviously metallic body. ]

[shirtbag]

[ roxana your beautiful paper skin... ]

Oh, we're way past "exactly human," ma'am. You're lookin' at a bona-fide cyborg.

[disingenuous]

[ it's fine. all the clothes she wars covers most her skin anyway. ]

A cyborg isn't something I have much experience with. There was an android that I met... but I think he was a little different?

[shirtbag]

Think so? Tell me 'bout him.

[disingenuous]

For one, he wasn't so obviously... metallic. If you didn't know any better, he could be mistaken as a human. He was a bit boyish.

[shirtbag]

Looked totally normal? Shoot. I'd like to take a gander his tech. Maintenance must be a breeze.

What was the kid's name?

[disingenuous]

He wore a blindfold and shorts all the time. That was less than normal. He was called 9S.

[shirtbag]

[ ghe baby

also shorts are not so much weirder than a cyborg in a cowboy hat, a mega cropped jacket, and pants with the sides cut out. ]

Blindfold? What for? He got sensitive neurocircuitry or somethin'?

week 0, saturday

[disingenuous]

[ boothill is her enemy.

not really since she knows it probably isn't fully his fault, but she wasn't planning to say much about her murdergame at all, and he came out here!!! and mentioned things!!

roxana is composed as she approaches the jail cell. her expression is more impassive than her usual calm and placid. ]

Who told you you had colors?

[shirtbag]

[ boothill, hatless, is right up in his cell in the security room. he's kicked the bed in half and trashed whatever was on it. his knuckles have been beat up and scratched where they've fruitlessly punched at the walls, the iron sharp and frayed and broken, exposing the shadows and some wires underneath.

he's standing in the middle of the room, facing the broken bits of the bed. his head whips to whoever's walked in on him, his eye still glowing, sharp teeth bared in a scowl.

but it's roxana. his metal hands clench and then release, as if fighting back those angry urges. his eyes narrow. ]

That's what's goin' on in this place, isn't it? The Residents told us that.

[disingenuous]

[ not this. why is he talking like this. roxana hates the implications. ]

Why do you know this? What happened to your memories?

[ she asks these questions even if she knows boothill won't have satisfactory answers for her. ]

This isn't the Prism.

[shirtbag]

[ he finally turns to face her, and right when she says this isn't the prism, there's suddenly a tic in his head, his eyes quickly blinking shut and then fluttering.

he narrows his eyes at her again. that rage is still boiling. he lifts his chin, looking down at her. ]

They told us our colors would go outta control and Essek got in my way. I'm forkin' sick of this place, Rox. I want out.

[disingenuous]

[ he is talking like he knows her well... or has known her for some time. ]

We all want out, Boothill. I don't want to endure any of this either. How long do you think you've been in the Prism? How long do you think you've known me?

[shirtbag]

Are you outta your mind? How come you talkin' like you know somethin' I don't? It's been weeks since we got to this forked up place, havin' all of them residents yammerin' on about how great this place is. Anyone would lose it the same way I did.

[disingenuous]

I feel as if you know things I don't right now with how you're talking, too.

[ this may go in circles. how does she make it come to a point? ]

Does the word refraction mean anything to you?

week 3, monday

[disingenuous]

[ roxana hasn't tried to seek him out or approach him in the singular day since she's arrived. she knows what he was like out of his mind, and now that he's more in it, she will leave the ball in his court.

however, there are only so many places one can go in an airport they can't leave. the moment their paths cross, a wind picks up.

they are thrown into an execution in a Prism he thought he knew.

builds onto boothill's chroma au ]

[shirtbag]

[ HIS CHROMA AU.... there's just enough pigment still in his memory, a stain not fully rubbed out, to know how the paintballs and powers work. everything else is a blur, and anyone he hasn't met here is a total stranger.

there is no way for him to look into clarte's memory and feelings, but he can see into roxana as the execution unfolds. it's dire and dreadful, the stakes climbing higher and higher, and the cruelest thing about it is seeing the way roxana manipulates her prey. she's not above wearing a pretty face and kissing to kill.

this memory teaches him several things, but this is what stands out the most: the fact that boothill is inhuman and their kiss was so brief and light is what kept him from dying in his cell that night. god forbid there's ever someone she loves.

when it all finally ends, the two of them are back at the edge of the pleasure gardens, where boothill had rounded a corner and she came into view. each time he passed her before, even after she arrived or had gotten cursed, there was a lump in his throat. their kiss is still seared in his memory—would have been even if she hadn't told him to remember it. the fact that she did makes it all the more awkward to approach her, but he would have talked with her eventually.

the wind dies down. boothill looks at her from beneath the lowered brim of his hat. he doesn't try to approach her first; he's just gauging her reaction for now. ]

Awful different from this last time, wasn't it?

[ her execution with scaramouche. ]

[disingenuous]

[ in a game with no nerfs and no healing, she wouldn't be able to kiss anyone whose body processed poison and have it last. love isn't something she's considering right now, not here and not at home with what her circumstances are.

roxana told him to remember what he asked for because it'd make it more difficult to approach her. most of what she does is to make it harder for anyone to get close to her but without ringing too many alarms. it's only fools like clarte who still wish for things to be better for her.

at least after being executed her and seeing clarte again has made those feelings fresh enough the memory isn't enough to break down all her walls. her expression is conflicted for a second or two once the memory is gone ]

Better suited for me this time. Scaramouche was more abiding than expected, but even if he weren't... it would have suited me fine.

week 7, saturday

[shirtbag]

[ they are in the meadow! unless she wants them elsewhere ]

We're finally at the end of this thing, so I gotta ask... Just how many stupid forkin' videos do ya have of me on that phone of yours?

[disingenuous]

[ they can be in the meadow. she likes it. ]

It's not as many as you think.

[shirtbag]

Thank forkin' goodness for that.

[ despite how pissed off he normally is, the vibes are pure relief and delight and determination for now. ]

I gotta worry 'bout you blackmailin' me someday, or are those videos just for when you need a laugh?

[disingenuous]

[ that's such a cute icon.

her vibes are faint, distant, vague. ]

It all depends on you how I end up using it.

[shirtbag]

[ thank you people mistake it for jacopo's icon all the time... roxana's icon is so beautiful but so are all the rest of them

anyway, he laughs at this. at this point, videos of him as a horse seem benign. ]

Think I heard someone say it earlier, but you are a real scary woman. I won't give ya a reason to bust 'em out.

What's next for ya after this?

[disingenuous]

[ me going ??? jacopo??? which one his default?

he says that but she has a small but insane and petty and irrational grudge against him even if she's acting as usual. ]

I've heard that a few times during our time at the airport. I'm going home. You said before you were going to see your girlfriend, right?

[shirtbag]

[ yes... the blue sky does it ig

IS THIS STILL ABOUT HIM PINCHING CLARTE also he is a little embarrassed but his happiness outweighs that. ]

Yup! First thing.

[ then there is a briefest image of roxana's mansion from his memory of that execution. the happiness falters, the emptied space taken up by genuine curiosity. ]

Is home that place ya burned down before?