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 «

Comments

jacklyn benette (jack benjamin) | bible gays (kings)

[cicatrize]

WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND PEOPLE SOUP;

[ some people may rouse gradually, coming into awareness gently, keeping their calm about the mask on their face, the fluid around them, and the enclosed space they’re held in.

Jack Benjamin is not one of those people.

He freaks pretty much immediately, once underwater registers, only made worse and worse with the passing of mask, and peaking with hands lifting to slap violently against the plexi-glass sides of the pod when closed, coffin-like space sinks in. it’s not okay. None of it is okay, and this isn’t really Duplicity’s style, but considering he just watched them execute and torture some people the last week or so? It’s hard to say for certain what is anymore.

The cables and nodes pull from his face and torso as he arches up when the pod lid finally gives, the fluid about halfway drained, and Jack lets out a muffled gag when he tries to leap from the device, only to be pulled back by the tube still lodged down his throat. Pulling it free is a mess of croaking, wailing sounds, leaving him a coughing, hacking mess, but free from the tentacle monster of a space-tube he’d just been buried alive in. hauling himself over the edge of the pod, he hits the ground like a newborn foal - ungraceful, covered in nasty fluids, flailing, and severely unhappy to conscious right now.

A droid hovers by, and Jack stretches out an open palm towards it, as if he’s expecting the droid to just... levitate on over to him. When nothing happens, he frowns, shakes his hand, tries it again. Nothing? Nothing. He's broke. ]

That’s fine. That’s great. [ he’ll just lay right here, thanks. Flopping his head back, Jack breathes out slowly, before calling out louder, voice raspy from the tube: ] Management should be informed: this is not the best way to encourage oral.

HULL BREACH FUCKERY;

« There's nothing out here. »

[ jack's first brilliant observation, his voice cracking through the audio filtered into the hull breach teams' HUDs as they secure their safety cables and apprehensively step/float out into the great abyss of nothingness surrounding the ship. he's clinging pretty aggressively to the severed edges of the hull, inspecting them as he goes, murmuring behind the mask of his suit into the open comm link between the lot of them. ]

« How does an entire wall rip off the side of a ship all by itse— »

[ that's when he sees it - another figure, in the same type of suit jack's wearing now, floating through dark space some eighty or so meters away, come from an airlock that's an entirely closed off part of the ship. it sends a chill up jack's spine, the possible implications of it running through his head, wreaking havoc. did the AI lie about their being others on the ship? why can't they talk to them? if they're that's the only other person out here, did they blow out the side of the ship, and if so, how? and why? ]

« We don't have access to that side of the ship. Who is that? »

[ of course, while jack's busy being thoroughly freaked the ever loving fuck out, his safety cable has snapped, and he's gradually, senselessly, floating further and further towards a figure maybe only he sees. ]

ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROLS (commentary from a distance);

[ jack's only barely dragged himself back inside of the ship (fuck space, okay, fuck space) when the others working on getting access to the Environmental Control room finally crack the egg and get inside, only to trigger that unholy shriek that rips through the ship, jack feeling his very skin crawl.

immediately, he sends out a blast audio message, chiming in on everyone's HUDs like telepathy, or one of those horrible MySpace profiles that used to automatically play loud, obnoxious music as soon as the page loaded. hi, it's jack, and by the way, what the fuck? ]

« Did someone rip open a portal to Hell over there? What the fuck was that sound? »

BONUS SHENANIGANS (salvage thievery, for moonshine);

[ maybe you're working on something in the Ring, or getting some supplies out of the storage vault, maybe you're exploring or having a nice stroll, maybe you're just admiring the scenery. at some point, rudely interrupting your peaceful, quiet time, a fellow crewmate, dressed in the same jail-orange as you are, comes sprinting past you, with what looks like a metal pot or bucket, and a section of coiled piping, possibly shoulder-checking you hard as he bolts past. no apology attempted: jack's not that polite on a normal day.

even less so when he's being chased by a small army of droids.

which he is.

a few yards behind him will come the rest of the parade - about five or six droids beeping and booping furiously, with their little zapping appendages wielded and ready to zap, clearly displeased with the thieving of their salvage parts. but jack has a mission. a mission he knows fuck all about, actually (he's working on that, okay, supplies first (at least he has a vague notion of what a still looks like)). ]

The ship won't break apart because you're missing one bucket - calm down!

WILD CARD;

[ hit me with ya best shooooot ]

BONUS SHENANIGANS (salvage thievery, for moonshine);

[ex_this_ismydesign36]

[ Will happened to be taking a break and ... enjoying the scenery might be a bit of a stretch. Rather he was trying to come to terms with his new normal; he'd given up trying to use the term reality in any of this mess.

Except, oddly enough there was something grounding about watching Jack Benjamin being chased by annoyed ... annoyed. In this case it was definitely droids, and for a moment Will forgot the insanity of this in favor of laughing.

He wasn't sure who looked more ridiculous, Jack or the droids. Both, maybe go with both. ]

I expect you're going to tire before they do, Jack.

[cicatrize]

[ the voice immediately grabs jack's attention and he halts mid sprint, glancing over to the source. will. seeing him, hearing him laugh, knowing he recognizes him, is a relief that lights up his features.

just as the cattle prod the droids are fucking wielding lights up the side of his ass when his halt gives them time to catch up to him. ]

Ow, shit, fine, take it. [ he finally gives up, handing the bucket over. there's another flurry of beeping and booping, before the herd of them zips away, satisfied, and jack grumbles. ] Frugal little gremlins.

[ but, this gives him time to sit and talk with will, making his way over to the bench ]

Hey, you made it with us. It'd astonishingly, really, how many were plucked from Duplicity.

hull breach

[accountability]

[ There's more lines snapping, more people free floating and others trying to help them from drifting too far into the void. His gaze darts swiftly from one to the next, before it lands on: ]

« Jack. Don't move. »

[ He keeps his voice steady, despite the rising fear in his chest when he sees that safety tether floating out into the black, floating further away ever second. He's moving from the open shell of what was once the airlock, his careful steps frustratingly slow. Doesn't have enough practice in zero gravity, only knows enough to not propel himself all at once just yet. Not without the right trajectory-- and when he can finally turn the corner and gets a view of the hull, he doesn't see whatever or whoever Jack is talking about. No movement that his eyes can fix on. ]

[cicatrize]

[ steve's voice sounds in his head, and probably dude to the current situation, it freezes jack up entirely and takes up all of his attention. don't move. all the fear of going out into the void like this come rushing back, and he's suddenly terrified of what the hell that means. ]

« I'm going to need you to expound on that before I hyperventilate. »

[ but, as instructed (for fucking once), jack's frozen still, not daring to move and risk, what, a tear in his suit? a laser saw to the face? a fucking space worm devouring him??? tell him, steven. ]

[accountability]

[ Sorry for the panic, kid. His answer comes quick, calm despite the content. ]

« Problem with the safety lines. I'm almost to you. »

[ Spares a glance at his own tether as it trails behind him, undamaged as of yet. Good, he'll need it to get back. He judges the distance and trajectory he needs, and gently pushes off the hull. Legs and arms go still, and for a minute he's free floating toward Jack, nothing to grab onto but the line. There's the thrusters, but those could just as easily make things worse if he's not careful--

There's also the question of why the lines snapped to begin with. They checked them before heading out. No damage. ]

« You see someone? »

[ Farther out. He's nearly at Jack now. ]

[cicatrize]

[ problem with the safety line. the thing that's keeping him from flying off into the endless void of space. jack's heart thuds somewhere up in his throat and he's turning just enough to try to see where the line is, what the state of it is, if he's already twenty feet away from anything that can pull him back.

not quite, more like six, but it's enough he can't reach on his own, so thank fuck steve caught it before he got too far. god, what he wouldn't give to have his fucking powers back right now.

he sits and stews in it, while watching steve make his way over, gradually lifting a hand the closer he gets. does he what? see someone? oh, right. that thing he was so interested in before the fear of space death shook him. jack glances back towards where the man was, only to find it... empty. no one there. not even the line. ]

I... thought I did?

[accountability]

Where? [ That's a little disconcerting.

But first thing's first, he's about two feet away from Jack when his tether reaches its limit. It nearly jerks him back in the opposite direction again, and he has to stop himself from kicking his legs, finding the thrusters at his side.

He tries them, first attempt overly cautious, and the propulsion barely registers. A second try and third try evens him out more again, so that he's facing Jack instead of drifting to the side.

Still just out of arm's reach. ]

Jack. Gonna need you to try to move this way. You got a handle on how those thrusters work?

[cicatrize]

About... eighty yards out. By a different airlock.

[ they only have one airlock available to them right now, so that ought to say about as much on how weird that is, as well as why it grabbed his attention so completely. the distant spaceman didn't have his safety cable attached either, now that jack's thinking back on it, an eerie chill running through him.

forget it, he decides, for now. steve's stopped a few feet short, and stretch as jack might, he can't quite reach him. if only he had his goddamn powers. there's the urge to kick, but this isn't water, and nothing in space will propel him forward. it has to be the thrusters. ]

No, I haven't touched them.

[ some woman on a computer told him to go out into space and patch a hole, she didn't tell him how to work the suit. he can figure this out, though, and jack pulls up the controls, looking them over with a frown on his lips. read thrusters, that should be what makes him go forward, right? ] If I shoot myself off into distant space, tell Bucky to murder Nissen for me.

[ that fuck and his power gift that keeps getting taken away. ugh. okay, here we go. jack breathes deep and presses the button to fire rear thrusters.

aaaand basically bodyslams into steve. hey there, friend. ]

[accountability]

[ He'll have to ask who Nissen is and figure out the rest later, because Jack is handling the jets and Steve's ready to unhook his own tether the second it looks like this looks like it's about to go from bad to worse--

and instead he ends up with an armful of Jack for the second time in a week. Their helmets bang together and the force sends him flying backwards while his hands scramble to get purchase on Jack's suit. Might hear some abrupt, inappropriate language via the audio as his glove slips by Jack's arm and grips at the tether. ]

Thanks for the heads up. [ Go with a countdown next time, jesus. Spoken mostly with relief.

But they're definitely flying backwards now-- or at least Steve is. Jack can probably see where they're going. ]

[cicatrize]

[ hahaha oh nissen, that'll be a fun story time. but about that space crisis.

jack smacks directly into steve's chest, face hitting the inside of his helmet, but his arms are scramble to get around steve's shoulders, despite the awkwardness of it all, because let's be honest, jack benjamin doesn't really get awkward. not for himself, anyway. he can read a room and have the decency to be awkward for someone else's sake, but he's already been wrapped around this man naked. he's not worried about clinging to him to avoid floating out into empty space for a sad, slow death.

once he has a firm grip on him, and jack realizes neither of them are immediately dying, a stuttered laugh comes over the suit comms, and steve can probably see him smiling in relief through his helmet. ]

I was not expecting it to move that fast, or that far. Sorry.

[ they are floating backwards, towards big hole in the hull and the airlock steve came out of. ] I think I'm done out here for today. The others look like they're handling it.