[Open] Not The Absence, But The Ability To Cope

[earthborn]

Who| Shepard and Anyone Else who might come across her
What| Shep wanders around the capitol a bit, getting her bearings
Where| Random street locations (choose your own)
When| The day of her arrival
Warnings/Notes| Possibly language

This was, surprisingly, the absolutely strangest thing that had ever happened to Shepard. Blood sport, she'd had that, in both its clean, relatively safe, publicly sanctioned form and otherwise. Opulence like this could be found on any one of a dozen Asari worlds, and plenty of places on the Presidium as well. Even kidnapping, so far as this experience went, was...not entirely outside of her experiences. But all at once?

All it needed was a clone imposter, and it would officially make her day.

Damn, but if it wasn't surreal, and she had to stop and stare, looking up at the glittering high-rises and all the careless, meandering people. It was as if war had never come here. No Reapers, no hardship. Not six hours ago, to her mind, they'd hit Earth running and had been fighting uphill against Reaper abominations ever since, and then—

And then suddenly; this.

The skies were blue. There was the smell of lilacs in the air. Nobody was screaming. It made no sense, despite the explanation, and there was no way to recover from the whiplash of moving in one day from the grim end of the world, to the Capitol of civilization and indulgence. Even if it came with that familiar undercurrent of wrongness. Shit.

"Shit," she muttered, looking across an open expense of grass that divided a skyscraper from a cheerful little restaurant, watching a pair of clearly-involved teenages walking hand in hand. They were almost alien, the way they dressed, the ease with which they moved, living without fear. But it was peaceful. Happy.

It was the strangest thing that had ever happened to her.

Comments

[polyturtle]

"Well, I..."

Ok, he just had. This feeling. He had a feeling that he should know who this woman is, but he kept drawing a blank. Those feelings of paranoia, the thoughts of what if I forgot them, the worry of the Capitol's ability to mess with those from other worlds, the power to do things to his mind--

He let out a breath. There was a question that popped up into his mind, taking her behavior into consideration. Considering it wasn't unquestioning adulation...

"Are you a Tribute, as well?"

[earthborn]

"That's what they tell me," paranoia is healthy, particularly now; Shepard doesn't see the value in a system that steals people and then calls them tributes, as if the act of kidnapping somehow constituted a tithe.

Legacy terms, holdovers, and honestly what were they trying to achieve? There had to be a cheaper way to get off their jollies. Something more expedient. Better than this.

It couldn't be this simple, nothing ever was.

"Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy," she stuck out her hand like the good little xenocentrist she was, "And you are?"

[polyturtle]

Sheperd. Sheperd.

Sheperd.

No. No, it couldn't be.

It all suddenly came back to him. Jane Sheperd. The woman in the common room. The first Victor. The woman who was his first Mentor. The woman who slowly came less and less until she disappeared.

The ghost in the red dress at Casear's side. The Avox in the corner of the District Suite, forever silenced.

"...Jane...?"

His hand slowly came up to his head, shaking despite his attempts at self-control. She couldn't be here in front of him. She couldn't be here talking to him. And yet the resemblance - the name, the face - was so much like hers.

[earthborn]

That...wasn't normal. Not even for people who knew her, who'd fought her before. Slowly, confused, Jane withdrew her hand.

"...Have we met?"

Nobody called her by that name. Even Anderson had only done it once— most people didn't even know she was Jane Shepard, not unless they read her service records. But this guy? Not likely.

"Hey, keep it together, pal," And they'd been doing so well too.

[polyturtle]

Jane wasn't the only confused one, if it made her feel better. Though, Don looked incredibly upset. Felt it, too, felt it deep in the pit of his stomach.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Slowly, he closed his eyes, taking in a few shaky breaths. He needed to keep it together. He needed to keep it together. It was quiet, save for his breathing for several eternal minutes.

"Yeah." He spoke quietly when he at last spoke. Almost whispering. "You were my Mentor."

[earthborn]

She stared, waiting for the punchline that wasn't coming. Well, wasn't that just the most comforting thing she'd yet heard; what, was it a clone? Alternate universe? Body-double?

"No, I wasn't," Calm, very calm, that deadly quiet before the storm, "I got here less than three hours ago. So far as I can remember, I've never seen anything like you in my life."

Nothing is ever so simple as it should be.

[polyturtle]

"...I...I see."

This was...was this some kind of horrible joke? Was the Capitol doing this to torture the other Jane he'd known? Part of their sick game?

"I apologize for...confusing you with her." At this, he looked down. "You look quite a bit like her. Talk like her, as well."

[earthborn]

"Look," a hand on his shoulder; buck up, guy, "Uh— Don't worry about it. I get a lot of trouble from evil clones on a good day. Today's not one of those."

Dammit, since when did she have a conscience about making people cry? Can't be going soft, must just be tired. Yeah.

"Why don't you start by telling me your name. Okay?"

[polyturtle]

He wasn't crying, but hey. Same idea. Jane had a conscience, it was buried underneath her angry exterior, yadda yadda yadda.

"She wasn't really evil...but..." Don quietly nodded. "Hamato. My name is Donatello Hamato. Here I'm a Tribute for District 9."

[earthborn]

"Alright, Don," Slow and steady, "Nice to meet you. Sort of."

"District five for me, not that I'm planning on putting it on my resume or anything," but wouldn't it just raise eyebrows, right next to 'Hero of the Citadel' and 'Butcher of Torfan.' Christ, what a day, "It's relative. Awful lot of people in the galaxy would say I'm evil."

[polyturtle]

"Yeah." Don gave Jane a smile, though it was a subtly nervous one. "Though I will say that I do wish we'd met under different circumstances. Though the Capitol won't see you as 'evil' as long as you're...well...entertaining."

[earthborn]

"I figured it was something like that," she replied, and the return smile tugged at the corner of one mouth, despite herself. He was nervous; nervous people fell into one of two categories, and Donatello didn't have a gun to her head, so he fell into the first. It was kind of cute, really, "I've been around this kind of bullshit justification once or twice. Hey, let me ask you, do people they've brought here always introduce themselves by district?"

[polyturtle]

"Generally," Don replied, nodding. "Its...sort of part of our identities now, I suppose. Plus, some of us come from worlds where saying our original locations would make no sense to others, so saying which District we represent makes more sense."

[earthborn]

"I'm not sure I can agree with that," she folded her arms and leaned to one side, stubbornness incarnate, "Everything I know about district five could fit on a post-it note; it's not exactly what you'd call a relevant distinction."

It's all relative, really. You could consider that, life and death, they owned you here, and submit to that, or you could stand outside it; it was all bullshit anyways. If all they cared about were your actions, the point was moot, but a willing slave was still a slave, and Shepard had killed plenty more slavers than yet lived in Panem. All in good time.

"How long you been here?"

[polyturtle]

"...A year." His response is quiet. "Its not, but the truth is, we don't know much about the people we represent. I mean, I know where my District is, and what their export to the Capitol is, but not much else."

[earthborn]

She frowned, listening, not quite looking at Don. Thinking. So, a year he'd been here, and the her he'd met had been his mentor— which would mean the other Shepard had known him from early then, and had won the games at least once, before then. Where had she been, a year ago? With Cerberus, certainly.

But then there was Donatello himself, nervous, almost submissive. He called his assigned district part of his identity; what would Jane herself look like, after a year of this life? No, that was unacceptable. Fuck it.

"Listen, that has to change," her eyes came up like a weapon coming to bear, "We should know more about these people than what they're willing to show us."

She gave an expansive gesture at the city at large.

"And we shouldn't be acting like the luck of the draw is who we are. Where are you really from, Donatello?"

[polyturtle]

Submissiveness, perhaps. But it was part of the survival tactic. It was all he could do to protect those people he cared for and, also, to continue to survive for the sake of those people. To keep himself from losing his mind entirely.

He knew he was more than just his district. But in public, Don knew better. He wasn't going to jeopardize his friends, his family, his allies. He knew that was the only way in this place. Especially when one was essentially alone.

"New York City," he replied. "And I agree. I'd like to know more about the people in whose name we're fighting for."

He meant it. He wanted to know those people who he would, one day, hopefully be able to fight alongside.

[earthborn]

"Good. Wait— New York, really?" she's surprised, but smiling, and it settles the intensity out of her voice.

Shepard didn't know what she'd been expecting, really. An unexplored alien world, the way he talked; she hadn't memorized all of the viable exoplanets, after all. But New York?

"I know a guy from there— you're telling me you're from Earth? I thought you were an alien."

[polyturtle]

"I am. Born and raised in New York City." Don smiled. "Though you certainly wouldn't be the first to think I was an alien, but nope. Just a mutant turtle."