[locked to scotty and pendleton]
Has Caro attempted to contact either of you? I believe she is... lonely.
[locked to teams 3, 7, 12]
In case any of you have somehow missed it, Caro has just made the final four.
[unrecorded]
Data has finally run out of excuses to hang around in the Mentors' Suite, and is making his way for the door. An hour ago he had wanted nothing more than to leave and get a few hours' rest, but now... Well, he still did, but now he had Weyoun to contend with on his way to some well deserved sleep. It's not that he doesn't like Weyoun. In fact, Data is fairly certain he likes Weyoun well enough to tentatively consider him a friend. Inasmuch as District escorts and other Districts' Victors can be friends. Eh.
Mostly, Data is too tired to be able to ignore the teasing the others had been gracing him with. Too tired to really comprehend someone other than Scotty or Keenser worrying about him. Just too tired in general.
He steps out of the door and propels himself halfway through the lounge before allowing himself to stop and look around for Weyoun.
Mostly, Data is too tired to be able to ignore the teasing the others had been gracing him with. Too tired to really comprehend someone other than Scotty or Keenser worrying about him. Just too tired in general.
He steps out of the door and propels himself halfway through the lounge before allowing himself to stop and look around for Weyoun.
[locked to teams 3, 7, 12]
Weyoun, Mr. Garak, is Walter returning to the Mentors' Suite anytime soon? I may require a break in the near future.
[unrecorded]
It's the night before the Games, and Data is up on the Training Center roof again. He knows it's unlikely that Caro will come up here tonight, but he'd like to be here just in case. He doesn't have any advice, but he would like to wish her good luck if he gets the chance.
That and, well. As much as he hopes she'll do well, he can't really imagine her winning. But he tries not to think about that part.
Spot strolls about the gardens twitching her tail while Data leans against the railing, staring out unseeing at the city below.
That and, well. As much as he hopes she'll do well, he can't really imagine her winning. But he tries not to think about that part.
Spot strolls about the gardens twitching her tail while Data leans against the railing, staring out unseeing at the city below.
[unrecorded]
Data holds it together long enough to make it to the roof with Spot and settle in their usual seat. He sets Spot down to let her inspect the plants and sits on the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest. It takes less than thirty seconds for the sobbing to start. He presses his face against his knees to try and muffle the sound, though he isn't sure why he bothers. He and Spot are the only ones up here.
Spot takes her time sniffing at leaves here and there before trotting back over to Data and headbutting his leg. He pries one hand free of its death grip on his pants leg to reach down and pet his very insistent cat. She meows.
"I-I know, Spot," he says hoarsely. "He was b-being kind. It-- it is not his fault I--" There are a number of ways he might finish that sentence, but he can't make himself say any of them.
It is not his fault I am a mess.
It is not his fault I cannot love anything, not even a cat.
It is not his fault I am a monster.
It is not his fault it is mine
Data startles when he feels Spot headbutt him again. He looks down at her and realizes he has stopped petting her at some point. He isn't sure when. Nor is he sure when he started clutching his head and rocking slightly. He stops. Reaches down to pet Spot. Takes a breath.
Spot takes her time sniffing at leaves here and there before trotting back over to Data and headbutting his leg. He pries one hand free of its death grip on his pants leg to reach down and pet his very insistent cat. She meows.
"I-I know, Spot," he says hoarsely. "He was b-being kind. It-- it is not his fault I--" There are a number of ways he might finish that sentence, but he can't make himself say any of them.
It is not his fault I am a mess.
It is not his fault I cannot love anything, not even a cat.
It is not his fault I am a monster.
It is not his fault it is mine
Data startles when he feels Spot headbutt him again. He looks down at her and realizes he has stopped petting her at some point. He isn't sure when. Nor is he sure when he started clutching his head and rocking slightly. He stops. Reaches down to pet Spot. Takes a breath.