MARCH ARRIVAL LOG;

[freezers]

⬡ WHO: Everyone!!
⬡ WHAT: Waking up in space, naked and... not actually that alone. Also, a hull breach, also, some fuckery in the AC room.
⬡ WHEN: Day 001 - 004
⬡ WHERE: Kostka IV, all over.
⬡ NOTES: WARNINGS: Body horror, scary monsters, creepy invisible things, rude naked people, Mass Effect Banshee Screech, 2% Cannibalism.

Please send all QUESTIONS here!

GOOD MORNING, STARSHINE

⬡ [ DAY 001 - 003 ] A spark of electricity convulses through your body, and you jolt awake - underwater. Or, at least, that's most peoples' first guess. The color is more vibrant than water should be, and heavier, your body feeling sluggish against the weight and drag of it. Or perhaps you're just slower to respond, distant, limbs and mind still drowsy and reeling. The bright fluid doesn't sting when you blink, if anything, it's soothing, healing, calming. Fortunate, that, because you're going to need it. As the pod-like chamber you're held in starts to drain of the liquid, your senses begin to flood back in. Awareness filters in like a window curtain holding back the morning sun, gradually easing away with each inch the water line lowers. There's something on your face - a mask, strapped around the back of your head, and other thinner tendrils against your cheeks, your ears, your neck. Narrow tubes are channeled through in your nostrils, and cables have slithered in through your ears, plugging into God knows what on the inside of your skull. There's a click that you feel more than hear, and the tension on them slacks, disconnected from somewhere inside you. Pull - up, back, to the side, whichever way you want - and they start to drag free. Far from the most pleasant feeling (likely leaves you wanting to crawl right out of your skin), but it doesn't quite hurt or burn, yet. That's for the inch wide tube shoved down your throat and held in place by the mask. It's also what's keeping you breathing underneath this blue space-goo though, so maybe don't go yanking it off until the lid of your pod opens. As the fluid drains, a voice crackles in over the sound of water oscillating around your ears. Not something played from a speaker anywhere, nothing projected on a screen, and whether the cables are still in your ears or not, you hear her all the same, as if she's more inside your head than she is broadcasting over a speaker inside the pod or coming muffled from outside. Even still, it's stuttered and interrupted, like the connection is weak, interference like static white noise buzzing through and covering up parts of sentences. ❝ I don’t have a lot of tim— RIP can’t spare the power to run this more t—, so pay attention. No one knows where it came fr— out of radio contact when it happened, whatever it w— Everything in its path. There is no fighting it. Only surviv— Droids handle most of the maintenance, but she’s getting wor— Take the load off. Whatever happe— just keep Ripley running. If the ship stops, we’re all dea— —’re bodies are new, still adjusting. You’ll be on unsteady legs for a while, so take it slo— might end up face-planting, and there’s only so many replacemen— Mess hall’s lock— so make do. The cryo pod fluid’s the most nutritious thing around, just don’t think about wh— —’s all I can tell you. Good luck. ❞ » » » READ MORE HERE « « « At the end of the long lines of cryo pods, the halls meet at a small medbay. It seems some merciful someone has left a stack of thin, cloth sheets on one of the medbay tables, so it's best you pick one up, towel off a bit, and then toga it, until you find something more durable. Hopefully, at some point, someone will discover a door leading to a storage room is unlocked. There, you'll find some very stylish, bright orange jumpsuits. With luck, you'll make it there before you freeze. [[ OOC CONTENT WARNING (2% Cannibalism): This is OOC knowledge only, but given the sketchy nature of this, we wanted to make sure you guys are aware of what's coming ahead of time, so if you'd like to avoid having to RP the fallout from it, you have that option. The blue goop in the cryo pods that the NPCs have been telling characters to eat in order to expedite their acclimation to their new bodies/get over their Bambi Legs syndrome? It's 2% people. That's actual people, not recycled HOST bodies. This 2% is largely what aids the organic part of HOST bodies to work seamlessly with the synthetic part, but drinking the goop is not actually necessary to HOST body survival after emerging from the pods. Foregoing it will leave your character in a weakened state for a longer period of time (think more like 1 - 2 weeks of varying states of bambi legs rather than 1-3 days), but do have another option for sustenance worked into the O2 Garden prompt below if you'd like to avoid dealing you character realizing they ate People Soup in the future. Again, this is OOC knowledge only. Definitely don't feel obligated to have your character eat People Soup if you don't want them to, but please come up with a reason for your character to seek alternate food sources rather than "you know, I think this might have people in it", as we don't want to go into info-modding territory. Thanks, homies!! ]] MAINTENANCE ⬡ [ DAY 001 - 003 ] We're hoping you had time to get over the Bambi legs and get your space legs under you (as well as some space pants onto your body), because Ripley expended a lot of processing power to waking you up. That means it's up to you to make up the difference and get to work cleaning this place up to make it habitable for you and your new crewmates. It's been nothing but RIP and her droids for the last who knows how long, so those things that need to be functioning for the continued survival of organic bodies need to get working. Here's the chores on the docket: ⬡ Water Filtration; Hydration - always a must for you squishy, fleshy things, isn't it? The canal that runs through the Ring atrium is a large part of the reserves, and at one dark innocuous end an uncomfortable grinding noise can be heard. Beneath the surface of the water where there should be wall, there is instead an enormous fan about ten feet in diameter. It's grinding so loud the sound escapes the water barrier, and the cause is pretty clear. There's something wedged between one of the fan blades and the circular housing it's contained in. Someone will need to dive down ten or twelve feet and unstick the human skull stopping the filtration system from running. Beware, though — the second it's free the fan blades will begin spinning, sucking gallons upon gallons of water down into the depths. Hope you can swim! ⬡ O2 Garden; Oxygen - another must. The up-side here is that the facility has been virtually untouched, yielding unchecked growth for the time no one's been tending to it, so there's no need to worry about a lack of oxygen for the time being. The bad part is more about the chaos that's left behind. The garden is nearly a jungle at this point, and if crew is to make their way around easily, manage the hydroponics, and set up the vegetable gardens again to provide food outside of the cryo soup, there's some major work to be done. It likely doesn't help that some of the more volatile samples have broken free from containment and mixed in with the rest of the garden. One hostile species will spit acidic venom at things wandering close to its roots while others just chomp down on anything that ventures within reach. Ripley advises boots and protective gear when taking on this task, but getting rid of those weeds is up to you. Here, crew can also find their alternate food sources here, if you're OOCly wanting to avoid dealing with the People Soup reveal later on. If crew can slay some of the hostile plants, then find a means to make a fire and fry them up, the weirdly chewy salad your left with won't taste great by any means, and you'll be left with Bambi Legs for more like a couple weeks rather than a couple days without the cryo soup, but you can keep yourself fed this way. We recommend the little bitey ones over the big, venomy ones (they give a bit of indigestion). Those that explore the garden may stumble upon what looks like a miniature altar placed carefully on the ground: a shoebox sized box, made of metal and encircled by a ring traced deep into the dirt. A hexagon marks the top of the box, and when touched it reads on the HUD as ‘EDIBLE’. Inside are what looks to be clear packets and packets of dead seeds. At the bottom, however, is an opaque packet that initially lets out a puff of white dust when opened. It might freak you out, but it will prove to be harmless-- and the reward might be worth the minor scare: the hexagon on the packet, acting like a QR code, similar to the one on the outside of the box, explains that these are seeds for genetically altered potatoes. They might not taste great, but with a little extra care they can grow within 2 weeks. There’s a hundred seeds at least, and most of them appear to be viable. ⬡ Assist the Droids; The won't talk, but they do beep and boop and shove things at your person to hold. If you're unwilling to help with anything else going on, you'll be assigned as a glorified pack-mule. Hold whatever the droids give you, hold it right there, hold it steady, and if you get shocked because you moved too much to the left, well, you really only have yourself to blame. Keep a mind to where your feet are falling as well - stepping on a droid zooming past will not only be likely to get you knocked on your ass, but probably earn you an short, sharp, electric shock from them as well. Good luck, have fun, try not to die because Ripley's exhausted from waking you up, and the droids suck at first aid— not to mention, very stiff bedside manner. SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS; ⬡ [ DAY 001 - 005 ] Currently, there is no access to any proper crew quarters or barracks. The Ring is likely the best place to sleep, given the space and the various park benches scattered around, though not the most comforting, as it’s large and shadowy, with unsettling echos bouncing off the walls and traveling all throughout. A VIIK spontaneously malfunctioning could jolt a person awake with violent screams, or invade their dreams with creeping, hissing whispers. If you happen to hear something tapping along in the dark corners of the massive Ring in the night, surely it’s just a droid going about its work, or another glitchy kiosk, right? Right. Ripley recommends returning to the cryo pods for sleep. They’re very ergonomic, well insulated, and perfectly out of the way of all foot and droid traffic. Just a little bit slimy, but as we’ve discussed, that slime is the most nutrient rich substance you’ll find on the ship. Easy midnight snack, right? If you happen to wake up in the middle of the night and think you spot a human-shaped shadow hovering over you through the glass lid of the pod, just blink hard a time or two, and it’ll be gone. No worries at all, safe and sound. Otherwise, find a nice little corner and curl up. GROUND CONTROL TO MAJOR TOM; ⬡ [ DAY 003 ] While Projection is not yet available, all HOST bodies share free access to a neural network through which they can communicate via text, audio, or video. One of the first things the HOST platform will prompt the new mind housed inside it will be to set up a sequence of finger taps to open up the network HUD. The system is fairly intuitive, and all one need do is reach up a hand to touch the option they wish to select. For text, a keyboard overlay will appear in the HOST's visual perception, and, dy default, all messages will show: a name, a username, and an ID code. Feel free to make these up as you like. These can be adjusted, and a HOST can post anonymously to the network as well (no guarantees Ripley can't trace it back to the origin, but she's not going to tell). There are no real rules on the usage of this network, aside from don't try to hack your friends, or your not-friends (just don't hack anyone, okay, it's rude). Ripley does understand the human need to socialize, especially in trying and stressful circumstances, so have at it kids. On the third day, once everyone’s woken up, Ripley will be making one quick announcement that she will not be capable of replying to just yet - waking you jerks up took a lot out of her, so give her some time. The voice that you hear doesn't come through any speaker or intercom around you, nor is it originating from any of the bodies or droids nearby. You hear what sounds like a young girl speaking as if inside your head, and she sounds exhausted: ❝ ATTENTION ALL CREW: This is Ripley. While I realize abduction and consciousness displacement is frowned upon in many human societies, please understand this was an emergency protocol enacted at the last possible moment. You have questions. I will answer as best as I'm able, as much as I'm able, but much of the data you're looking for has suffered massive corruption, held in a type of quarantine. The most important thing you need to know is that you, and all organic life within the multiverse, are being hunted. The mission of this vessel is to protect and preserve what remains of that life. Take time to acclimate to your new platforms. We'll talk more later. Ripley out. ❞ BLOW OUT IN THE SHIP HULL (NOT A SPACE PORN TITLE (THIS TIME)); ⬡ [ DAY 004 ] Somewhere around three am (according to the time listed on your HUD, if you pull it up), an explosion rocks the ship, jolting the crew awake. A rapid, whooshing sound can be heard for a second or two, like wind whipping passed an open door, but it’s shut up quickly, with a metal door dropping down somewhere in the halls, a metallic thud echoing. Those choosing to sleep further into the ship, in the halls past the Ring, likely feel a sharp chill pass through the air around them, frigid. Seconds later, Ripley’s voice comes on through the network. ❝ EMERGENCY ALERT, ALL CREW: Hull breach detected in Level 16 Maintenance Hall Airlock. Droids in the area are... unresponsive. No external threat detected. Please report — ❞ Is that a tinge of fear and fatigue in her synthetic voice? Directions are given to the maintenance closet holding the gear for space walks, but every question directed to Ripley about the cause are only met with “inconclusive” and further repeated instruction to seal the breach for the safety of the ship. Questions about the droids will be redirected the the same answer: please check the hole in her side ASAP, Ripley currently has no eyes in that section of the ship. The closer crew gets to the damaged site, the colder the air seems to grow, and the more the shadows around everyone start to flicker, lights buzzing weakly overhead. The droids that initially responded to the threat all appear to be having some issues, either banging into walls or shut down entirely. Attempts to manually break into their system to get them functional will unintentionally force them into an internal security scan loop, which leaves them useless. Stop by the gear room, grab some pistol grip lasers (there will be a handful of these, enough if everyone buddies up) or the larger laser-saw and get ready to do some space welding. Something brushes past your shoulder in the dim light, and you glance to the side, expecting to see another crewmate there, only to find empty space. Maybe you were imagining things? Stepping out of the makeshift airlock Ripley has made out of the hall section just before the breach, gravity immediately shifts, first a vague suggestion, than nothing at all. The door opens, and you’re released into the open space surrounding the ship - coincidentally, your first real view outside of Kostka IV. Yep, sure is a lot of space. All the typical things you’d expect - blackness, distant stars, no planets of note nearby. No one will recognize the star patterns here, as they’re in a completely foreign dimension. There’s also no sign of whatever breached the original airlock. In fact, there’s no sign of the Level 16 Maintenance Hall Airlock at all: beyond the emergency doors of the hall that led to the airlock is nothing, as though the airlock never existed in the first place. Close examination will yield that the internal walls are now covered in the same metallic material as the outer shell, the whole area an almost perfectly shaped indent in the side of the ship. Almost. There are some cracks in the metal, enough to question the stability of the outer hull. Observant folks might notice that it looks like the damage blew outward rather than inward. If you followed the instructions in the gear room and were able to find a safety cable to secure to the makeshift airlock door. They should provide a lifeline back to the ship-- especially for those that swear they see another suit exiting an airlock from an upper level, about 80 meters away, their safety line hanging uselessly in the void, disconnected from the ship. You might point this out to whoever is close by, though there’s no guarantee that they see it too. Turn your head or blink and the figure is gone. Those unlucky enough to spot the lone spaceman will find their tethers suddenly snap, broken by some unseen force. If you’re especially unlucky, you’re not particularly close to the airlock when this happens. The suits do have small jets to aid in propelling yourself back to the ship, if you’re confident in how to use them without making the situation worse. Otherwise, it’s up to your crewmates to give you a hand. ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROLS HOSTILE TAKE-OVER; ⬡ [ DAY 004 ] While the breach in the hull is being repaired, things are going wrong elsewhere on the ship. Environmental Control has locked itself down, the room apparently empty of all crew at the time. Putting an ear to the door, you can hear something or someone moving around inside the room, feet shuffling, a clatter as they bump into tables, a tapping at the keyboards. There’s perhaps even mumbling, but it’s too indistinct to make out any words, or maybe you’re just imagining it? Regardless of who or what is on the other side of the door, the controls start to go awry. All through the ship, the temperature fluctuates, from a brisk chill to a deadly icy cold, or even a heat that feels like boiling. On top of that, air is thinning, starting to slowly suffocate the rest of the ship. You have roughly five hours to get that door open, deal with whatever’s inside, and right the control settings before people start to pass out. Ripley is entirely out of touch during this crisis, and the droids are unresponsive, caught in a loop of internal security checks. You’re on your own. There’s a few options here: 1) Climb through the vents. There is one that a small, skinny person or two could wiggle through that drops out from the east wall of the room. The problem here is the fans, which seem to be turning on and off irregularly. Disabling them is possibly by wedging something strong in between the blades, but you’ll have to carry enough for the four fans you’ll have to pass through by to get to the room. Each blast of air from them is powerful enough to knock anyone inside a few meters back and will greatly impede travel, if not completely toss you out of the vent. Fortunately, the pattern isn’t as irregular as it seems at first: anyone inside the vents should be able to count out a two minute interval between each blast that should allow them just enough time to get from one safe section of the vent to the next, squeezing past the fans while they are temporarily immobile. Should you miscalculate your time and end up stuck between two fans, you’ll end up caught in the blades of the fan behind you. While that may not kill you, there will most definitely be blood. 2) Override the keypad. ( CW: BODY HORROR ELEMENTS ) If anyone had been feeling chafed by Ripley cramping their techno-wiz style, now’s your time to shine. Break that bitch open and start fiddling. What you’ll find inside the keypad is… odd. The original, fairly mundanely designed wiring for the keypad is appears to be overgrown with what can only be described as a rat’s nest of extra wires that don’t seem to do anything in particular. You’ll have to cut past them to get to the wires that actually control the doors, but just like weeds, if you chop them off at the middle without pulling them from their roots, they’ll grow back with a vengeance - and in real time, and will start to overrun the keypad. They may even take a liking to your new body, latching on and trying to dig beneath your skin. While physically alarming, as far as you can tell they don’t do any damage to you. If you’re a patient and careful gardener, you should be able to eventually prune past the unruly wires and get to the actual controls beneath. 3) Lastly, you can try laser-sawing through the door. In the same gear storage room the space walk suits came from were all the tools used to repair the breach in the hull. Some of them are capable of cutting through the kind of steel the interior doors are made of, so it’s a matter of figuring out which ones. Try not to blow yourself up. This option will take the longest, nearly four hours, so maybe start early and use it as a back-up in case all other options fail. Regardless of which route gets you in, when the door is finally open, or you get a glimpse down through the vent grate, crew will spot a vague shadow of something humanoid hovering over a console, though distorted, as if blurred at the edges, or like pieces of it are fading in and out. Whether or not the observing crew has made their presence know, the shadow seems to realize they’re there, and its “head” jerks up, before letting out a piercing, inhuman sounding scream that’s somehow so loud and violent that characters have to cover their ears to protect against the pain of it, while their vision blurs, fading in and out for a small handful of seconds. Once blinking it clear, the shadow is no longer there, and the room is free. Get in there and put the settings back to default, please. THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN SPEAKING; ⬡ [ DAY 005 ] Ripley will be making an open network post that all characters will be able to respond to for questions, conversation, shooting the space shit, you know, whatever you fancy. She’s finally done being busy and has decided to pay attention to you squishy little fleshbag things. This will be done in a separate network post, not included on the intro log. We just wanted to let you guys know that it’s coming. Please send all QUESTIONS here! » NAVIGATION «

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Nikolai Lantsov (Sturmhond) | Grishaverse

[sturmhond]

i. Wake up in the Morning with a Head like What You Done

---

[ It's like dying.

No, like being dead, and waking up again. The opposite of dying. Maybe it's like birth? Who knows. At any rate, it's like dying, but in reverse, and comes with that awful sensation of drowning. No doubt it's frightening, to some people. Most people. But then, most people don't experience it on a daily basis.

The mask is new, though. And then there's that message. That's what tells him something is really wrong.

Nikolai's emergence from the tank is relatively peaceful. Getting the mask off - and out of - him generates a lot of coughing and spluttering, and maybe the occasional ungentlemanly curse word. But he's fine. This is fine. He clambers out of the tank, covered in slime, and almost falls back down again. He clutches the edge of it, and that's when he sees his hands. The black lines are gone. ]

It's...gone?

[ Saints, his voice sounds terrible. He coughs, and looks down at his chest. The star-shaped scar over his heart is still there. The scar on his palm is still there, too, and the one on his thigh. All star-shaped stab marks. All present and accounted for, but the black ones on his fingers are gone. And the feeling of darkness inside of him... ]

Gone. [ He actually laughs. Then he laughs some more, and tries to haul himself upright. His legs aren't ready to cooperate yet. He's also still entirely naked, and he only really starts to care about that once he realises he's not alone in the room. Then there's a scramble to cover himself, and he falls to the floor altogether. Damn. He looks up, awkward smiles all around. ]

Believe me, I'm usually much more graceful. Terrible first impression. I don't suppose any of you might pass me a towel?

ii. These Aren't The Droids You're Looking For

---

[ He's on the floor. Cross-legged, dressed in the horrific orange jumpsuit which clashes horribly with his hair, he is hard at work. There's a droid in his grasp, struggling to get away from him while he pins his legs around it and tries to get its top off. That's the scene for approximately three seconds, before it lets off a small EMP to knock him flat to the ground. Then it darts off, thoroughly glad to be rid of him.

He's twenty-something, attractive if you enjoy the golden blond, chiseled cheekbones, improbably tidy despite being sprawled on the floor, sort of look. He's entirely still for a few brief moments, and then with a gasp, he's waking up. He looks around in confusion, then clambers to his feet, sharp hazel eyes scouring the corridor. ]

Blasted thing. [ Despite that, he sounds delighted. And he's grinning. ] I almost had its head off.

[ This is the third time today. One might imagine Nikolai would learn from these experiences, and he has. He has learned that the little brats are faster than they've any right to be, and also that this new body has vulnerabilities his old one did not. It's still an upgrade, given his circumstances, but still. He flicks dust off his shoulder. ]

Which way did it go?

iii. Music of the Night

---

[ It's difficult to tell the difference between night and day on this ship. Nikolai is not new to that particular phenomenon, and he's not pleased about experiencing it again. At least this time his body seems to know time is passing; he gets hungry, he gets tired, he gets at least somewhat nourished by the slime, and the vegetables in the garden.

But sleeping is an issue. It would help if there were more comfortable arrangements. He'd returned to the pods, but his eyes had barely been closed before he'd seen a shadow looming over him. After that happened the third time, he'd given up on the notion of sleep. Now he's wandering the corridors, feeling the worse for wear and lamenting his missing eiderdown. He is careful not to disturb anyone who's actually managed to sleep, but since he's given up hope of it, he settles beside a panel that the droids have recently been working on. He doesn't actually know what he's doing with these wires, but experimentation tends to yield results. It's not long before he gets engrossed in it. Don't mind him. A few sparks might fly from what he's doing every so often, but that only seems to please him more. ]

So this one is live. Now if I could find how it connects--

iv. Star Trekkin Across the Universe

---

[ This isn't going to plan.

Of course, the moment the opportunity to walk in space was offered, he was going to take it. He's been desperate to get outside ever since he knew they were here. Besides that, he considers himself skilled enough to be somewhat useful in repairing the damage, even though it's evident to him that there must be danger on the ship. He's ready to work, but he also takes a brief, passing moment to look at the stars all around them. They're really here. He's really among those stars.

And then he's too much among them, because he's floating free, and that hadn't been part of the plan at all. ]

Saints. [ He mutters, and casts around, only to see that the others are floating as well. Danger on the ship. He should have dealt with that first. Still, he's not actually panicking; it's hardly the first time he's found himself adrift at sea. He doesn't let himself panic, and instead finds the controls for the little thrusters in his suit. This, happily, gets him moving - though it also sends him in a tailspin towards one of his floating comrades.

Oops. ]

I have you! [ He announces, as if this was the intention all along. Heroism is edifying. No doubt they'll all be glad of it later. ] Now, homeward bound.

[ And they skitter off in the opposite direction. Don't worry. Any minute now, he'll get the hang of this. ]

v. CREATE YOUR OWN

---

[ Prompt Nikolai! I'm available on plurk for plotting at halfbloodly ]

iii.

[accountability]

How's it looking in there?

[ The question is called out from one of the many men on the ship dressed in an jumpsuit. This one is bearded, his hair a little long, the figure under all that orange athletic. He's walking down the corridor toward the younger man and his work, eyeing the sparks coming out of the panel with a combination of genuine curiosity and caution in his sharp gaze.

Sleep's not easy. ]

[sturmhond]

[ Nikolai looks up just as a stray spark burns his finger. He winces and shakes feeling back into his hand, before undoing what he just did with those wires.

Then he pushes himself up to greet the newcomer. ]

Argumentative. [ It would help if he knew what he was doing before he tried playing with the wires. Still, experience is the best way to learn. ] We don't quite understand each other. We'll get there, eventually.

I see you found the pods as comfortable as I did.

3

[dimitri6]

[ A toddling little droid behind Nik's back will stick out a little arm and give him a nice, firm shock to the lower back. At the same time, a rather unpleasant face will pop up on Nik's HUD. ]

Excuse me, do I give you colonoscopies while you sleep? Kindly refrain from rewiring the ship, thank you.

[sturmhond]

[ He jumps, and cracks his head on the edge of the compartment he's working on. That might have hurt worse than the shock. It's a close thing; once he stops seeing these stars, he'll get back to you. ]

That was unnecessary. [ He says, rubbing his head, and waiting for his legs to stop tingling. ]

No harm intended, I assure you. I only want to see how it works. Next time you could try asking politely, or perhaps putting up some sort of sign. You'd be amazed how well people respond to signs.

ii.

[lie]

[ Bambi legs. Natasha tries not to take it personally, the sudden betrayal of her body and limbs. They've served her well so far, in so much as that it is her body, apparently. Philosophy and metaphysics are subjects outside of both her wheelhouse and interest, anyway, so it's a moot point. She carries on.

Finding people brave enough to poke around a droid's insides isn't that rare. It's a little different for someone to look so ecstatic about it. Natasha's been lingering for the last five, maybe ten minutes, leaning against a perpendicular wall a short distance away, mildly observing while she stretches out a small cramp in her calf.

Action, reaction. By the time he's up again, talking, her mouth curls a little, cut with a subtle amusement in response. ]

That way, [ She confirms, nodding to gesture down the hall, though it's all with an arched brow. ] You don't think it's a little early for masochism?

[ It's one way to react to being shocked unconscious, that's for sure. ]

[sturmhond]

[ Nikolai follows where she points, and aims a grin at her before he means to take off after it. He's halted by her question, and turns back with a wry smile. ]

Masochism is such a strong word. I prefer to think of it as creative risk management. Best way to know what they can do.

Admittedly, I would have preferred you didn't see that.

[ See him lying prone, he means. The thought of doing that in a public place where anyone could see is not pleasant. ]

Out of interest, how long were you standing there?

3

[shuckit]

[ you'd think after so much going going going, all thomas would want is a fucking sandwich and eight years worth of a nap, but every time he closes his eyes, something plays on the back of his eyelids. the grievers, jack in the lightning storm, the light leaving chuck's eyes, the cranks screaming kill me, kill me, ...teresa.

can't sleep. it's just not happening, not in a place like this that seems like a massacre waiting to happen. reminds him too much of the glade, after the doors stopped closing. so, he's wandering, hands stuffed in his jumpsuit pockets, boots scuffing at the floor as he peers curiously around at everything, taking in little details.

he's sure to make enough noise when he approaches the nikolai shouldn't be startled be him, and thomas moves to crouch to the side of the panel, watching the man work with arms cross over his knees. ]

You're not worried about undoing whatever they were fixing in there?

[sturmhond]

[ Nikolai looks up with a grin. Apparently, he's not the only one struggling to rest. Well, the more the merrier. Thomas is a bright boy, with thoughts and opinions that Nikolai has already found worth listening to. All things considered, he's glad of the company. ]

Progress always comes with an element of risk. Take something apart, and you'll find out how it works. Then you can make it better. Or at least have a better shout at knowing what you're doing.

[ He already has a better understanding of what these wires actually do. He's replacing them now, threading them carefully back into position. ]

Couldn't sleep?