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Piper 90: Mods ([personal profile] goneawaymod) wrote in [community profile] goneawaymemes2020-09-09 08:52 pm
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TDM #2


TEST DRIVE #1


So it's your first day at your new job! Welcome to the Jorgmund Family™! It's time to settle into your new workplace on the Piper 90 rig, the coziest place of employment this side of the Livable Zone. A leader in its industry, Jorgmund is excited to have you join them in enthusiastically envisioneering team-driven paradigms.

The Piper 90 rig's mission is not only an impressive undertaking in terms of impactful customer-oriented deliverables, it's providing a vital backbone to the Livable Zone by creating a safe region for citizens to live, work, and play. Jorgmund's "outside the box" thinking means they understand the importance of wisely investing in their human capital - you! You'll soon find that you'll take pride in this vital work - and the benefits can't be beat.

Rest assured, Jorgmund's multidisciplinary approach to our world's period of recovery means we know how to keep it real when facing this opportunity for restructuring and growth. Jorgmund: Even if most of the world has gone away, we can make a world of difference!

Synergy!

USEFUL LINKS
It is recommended you check out the following links first for info on the rig, rig conditions, game mechanics, and the intro and slideshow your characters would have to endure that takes place chronologically before the Test Drive Meme:

Welcome/Arrival | Rig Weather & Hazards | Rig Setting Page | Game Mechanics


SCENARIO #1 - MOVE-IN?! MOVE OUT!

Well, hell, that was fast. Basically as soon as orientation's over, everyone gets shuffled into armored vehicles and a few boxes of gear are tossed in after them. Motion detectors, flimsy medical face masks, and... guns. Guns with flamethrowers. Even for the old hands at this, that's a new attachment, but the boxes all of the gear is in has electronic locks that refuse to open.

Before anyone gets any ideas, the doors are closing. The last view they get inside the Rig is a pair of medical workers dragging someone out of the 'interview' room, a tall muscular man in mismatched combat fatigues. Even without the twitching, the way he hangs limply in their arms leaves little doubt that whoever he was, he won't be joining them for cake. One of them carries his removed helmet, the other carries a removed body armor. On the chestplate a skull and crossbones can be seen, on the backplate are the words "contents under pressure."

When one of them sees them staring, she says, "Epilepsy, it seems, no doubt aggravated by Stuff exposure. We'll be taking good care of him."

Right, because the military lets epileptics in all the time, don't they.

They will never see him again. If asked about him later, they'll say he was transported to the Livable Zone, for the very best care in a proper hospital. Of course they wouldn't hire someome with health issues for a potentially stressful job like theirs, they aren't monsters.

The truth is he will get more coherent later and start complaining of a stomach ache, scans will verify something alarming, and he will be quietly killed with sedatives and quickly incinerated.

Before it's too late.

a) TAKEN FOR A RIDE
They're left to get to know each other, with the driver (in a separate compartment) informing them that they'll be at their destination in about four hours.

Meanwhile, for their viewing pleasure, there's a marathon of The Nutshack. Working media in the Gone-Away World is sometimes...lacking.

b) A LATE EASTER
...Blissfully, it's interrupted some three hours later. The boxes all click, allowing the unfortunates to grab the gear, and the Nutshack ends abruptly as the face of a harried middle manager takes up the screen, people walking back and forth behind her with the faked urgency of people who know the boss is watching. "All right, New Hires. I know some of you have just been hired, but we here in Jorgmund like our people to be able to hit the ground running." She smiles blandly, in that corporate way where no muscle above her nose so much as twitches. "This mission should be a milk run for you, though, a good way to stretch your legs and show what you're made of. It's just a bit of a delivery job, that's all. You'll be making your way to the old Pilton town, recently the site of an Incursion. To go with the milk, you're grabbing us some eggs."

Suddenly, her image contracts to the lower left corner of the screen. The main screen is filled with a single image, rotating slowly. "Our resident biology experts think that the life forms that hatch from these will be very useful in advancing various areas of science, plus they might be able to resist Stuff storms. We want an unhatched egg, drone footage shows that there's a good number of them are already empty."

Another image, this time of some kind of glowing box. "The engineers say that this will keep the eggs, and their cargo, in a kind of stasis. Just get one in there and it's mission accomplished. Easy, right? Makes me wonder why we even hauled you guys out of orientation for it." She shrugs, tossing a folder aside and glancing at a paper someone's just passed her. "Oh, right. Pilton's a write-off. They rejected our offers of help with this whole mess when it started up, so they're probably all infected with Stuff or some shit anyway, so safeties off and fire is free. Don't kill each other but anyone else is fair game. You're probably doing them a favor somehow anyway, we don't need mutants mucking up the place."

She sets everything down and leans in, filling the screen again. "Yeah, and just so you newbies know the drill, don't run. You remember what it felt like during orientation." They've already felt the first bite of the nanochains. "We got trackers in you and we don't appreciate it when our boys go AWOL after we go through all of the trouble of saving their lives from the Wilds." The transmission ends and all that's left is a map of Pilton displaying, with the cartoon's audio still playing in the background.

The vehicles all clank to a stop and open the doors. Pilton looks to be a mid-sized town, might've been home to a few tens of thousands of people once. Curiously, a tall, thick wall surrounds much of it, but something's knocked holes in it. It's in front of one of these gaps that the trucks have stopped. Inside, a thick mist obscures all but the tallest buildings, half-ruined by some disaster. Lots of shorter, squatter buildings just barely poke over the top. But some of them seem to have some sort of newer additions, a black, shiny, organic support for a few buildings. Hard to see details, though, because of heavy mist obscuring vision. The map suggests that there's a subway system... or possibly just an oversized sewer. It's hard to tell, but the way the drivers honk, so they can leave, they're not giving any more time to decide.

Motion detectors on? Locked and loaded? It's time to go. Just ignore the feeling that you're being watched.

c) THIS WAY FOR SENSITIVITY TRAINING
Well, it turns out that those eggs? They hatch sometimes! If you're lucky, this side will be all that you see. If not, well...

The radios crackle and the manager's voice comes back on, for everyone. "We're seeing some funky bio readings. Yeah, the Science department thought that one or two of you might get jumped. It's fine, just don't lose whoever that is. Pop your stasis box around them, it'll expand, and drag them back to the trucks. You can try pulling them off, I guess, but they want to see what happens when someone gets up close and personal."

There's a pause.

"Oh, uh. Don't try to pull them off. Got a report from another crew that it'll tear and dribble acid over everything. Well, we at Jorgmund appreciate the lengths you all are willing to go for the company and it'll reflect in your quarterly performance reviews." That's small comfort for anyone who's at risk of being down a man.

Then again, at the noise, there are moans from the walls and ceilings. There's a few people stuck in there, some with those creepy things wrapped tight around their necks and faces... some with with them lying dead at their feet. Some of them aren't making so much noise on account of the massive, gaping hole in their chests.

Something's hissing and writhing around your ankles, by the way.

About to spring.

d) YOU DONE KNOCKED OVER THE ANT HILL
Did you get lost? Not to worry, if those motion detector pings are anything to judge by, you're about to have lots of company! They're big! They're fast! They're black, shiny, and can climb on the walls!

Oh, and these guys bleed acid too.

The manager's voice on the radio blares out loudly. Too loudly. "By the way, it sounds like you guys have company! Did we mention that Jorgmund has excellent medical benefits and a highly trained staff with the latest equipment? Don't be afraid to get into a bit of a scrap! And remember, teamwork makes the dream work! So fire up those flamethrowers and show them how Jorgmund takes care of the competition!"

As bad as everything is, at least you can hide from them for a bit. And, hey, that civilian stickied to the wall who got all chummy with the alien babies? The one you might not have managed to seal into the box correctly? They're waking up now! An extra hand to fight these guys off will be handy! Especially since the monsters seem to be trying to guide you away from the exits, pushing you further into the hive.

e) MEET THE NEW BOSS, SAME AS THE OLD BOSS
So, a heartless, soulless, people-eating monster who doesn't care who suffers as long as the numbers go up? Boy, that sure sounds familiar.

Whether it was a tactical withdrawal, a blind rush, went in to rescue a pal, or you were dragged into a lower chamber after being snatched up by a batch of drones, you're now in a vast chamber filled with eggs. And there's the Queen hissing her displeasure at your company. And you thought the regular guys were huge.

She's lounging on the wall, attached to a pulsating ovipositor that stretches the length of this massive room, surrounded by smaller drones caring for her and the eggs surrounding her. But, luckily, it looks like before the bugs... adapted this whole mess to suit themselves, it was a construction site, and the hive resin hasn't quite covered some of the equipment.

Or some of the barrels with explosive warnings written on them.

Whatever you're going to do, think fast. This lady's no pushover, and she's the kind of boss who likes to get her hands dirty to show the troops that she still has what it takes.

Due to Stuff shenanigans reality will glitch, making this fight one that must be accomplished possibly quite a few times before reality allows her to be dead.

Because she doesn't believe she would die that easily.

Every time she dies, she'll come just a little closer to being gone for good.

f) HOMECOMING KING
Maybe you were there for all that. Maybe you missed it. Maybe you actually did your job. Somebody must have, because you're out there in the open air. The wind is sweeping through the ruins of Pilton, a refreshing rain washing away all of the evil that's been committed there. Even the manager's voice, congratulating everyone on a successful mission complete, ordering everyone back to the armored vehicles, seems upbeat and chipper.

Gather your wounded. Pick up your trophies. Usher civilians you may have saved against orders into the transports. It's time to go home. Your team's about halfway there when thunder booms menacingly in the background. Seems to be a messy storm coming, so it'll be a relief to be inside.

...Funny, that thunder just now. Thunder's supposed to come after lightning not-ah. There it is. Maybe it was an echo of a flash you didn't notice.

But don't echoes get quieter?

That's when a big fella comes around the corner. It turns its head, looking dead at your group, and the hiss it makes is a nightmarish mingling of a bull crocodile and one of the drones from inside. And then it roars, charging towards your group, massive tail smashing part of a building to rubble as it goes.

Bullets aren't going to be enough for this tyrant.

Even worse: the ground suddenly shudders even more, rumbling and shaking in a great cacophonous outpouring of sound...

And you see that the smaller version of the creatures aren't the only ones that travel in packs.

g) ON THE ROAD AGAIN
That was awful. But it's over now. The ride home is quiet, with the dulcet tones of Bob Ross filling the air on the way back. Rest, relax, drink some water, have some rations, and check up on your friends. Because after an experience like that, what else can they be?

If any New Hires have saved a civilian against orders, hopefully you're not in one of the unlucky trucks where they're starting to groan and clutch at their chest, face contorting in agony. Hopefully that's not a fellow passenger for you, and you can just ride home.


OOC DETAILS

Feel free to play around with powers. If your character has powers from canon you want to play around with, go for it. If you'd like to test out possibilities for game powers, also go for it. Feel free to change it up from thread to thread if you need to. This can be handwaved as exposure to Stuff making characters' powers shift a few times before settling.

Potential players may use test drive threads as their log samples. However, at least one post in their thread must fit the requirements for apps, both in length (200 words) and in quality. If you do plan on using a thread as a sample, please make sure the writing throughout your threads is a good example of your writing skills and has some solid examples of the character's voice.

Players can eventually count TDMs towards AC. They can only count towards comment-based AC proofs.

Potential players can opt to keep these threads as game canon when they app in, or start over fresh, based on preference. The Stuff bringing them to the game universe can fog their memories, if players don't want their character to remember TDM threads when introing into the game.

The game is invite-only. Players without invites are allowed to tdm since some of them may know someone in game to ask for one, and since some people enjoy TDMs just for fun in games they don't plan to app into. But an invite is required during the apping process.

The game is at a starting cap at 30 players. Apps are rolling apps that have a wait queue if the cap has been exceeded. Currently the cap is 23 of 30 players.

hot_dad: (pic#14236853)

[personal profile] hot_dad 2020-09-23 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
[This would all be good to hear coming from an adult he found himself cooperating with in a fight. But he really doesn't know how to feel about hearing it from this petite teenage girl.

Realistically, he shouldn't be bothered. All scions are taught to defend themselves early on, and he was probably around her age when he had to start getting involved in risky shit. Still, just because he did it doesn't mean he wishes it on anyone else. Especially not right now, when the unknown lying ahead is leaving such a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

His jaw tightens a little and his eyes drop back to the bin of supplies.]


I'd prefer you not do that either.
parannoyed: (006)

Re: g

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-23 04:34 am (UTC)(link)
[So a little older than he thought, just small. Old enough to enlist.]

[But...it sounds like nobody that's here actually chose to be here. At least when he enlisted, it was a choice. A necessary sacrifice.]

[This...feels very unecessary. It was a mission to obtain a bioweapon that shouldn't exist to use against enemies against Jorgmund that also possibly don't exist.]

[And that she's not even the youngest sounds like a nightmare.]

[But he catches one detail.]

...Sizes? You have multiple ones? How?
Edited 2020-09-23 04:35 (UTC)
credit_not_blame: (Default)

Re: g

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-09-23 04:48 am (UTC)(link)
"Magic" is pretty much the only option that makes sense, all things considered. [She waggles her fingers at him.] Abracadabra, presto-change-o, poof! I'm eight feet tall and pants-shittingly terrifying.
parannoyed: (009)

Re: g

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-23 05:03 am (UTC)(link)
Magic.

[And she turns 8 feet tall.]

[Wash pinches the bridge of his nose.]

I can't believe I'm actually asking this seriously but...are you a werewolf?
Edited 2020-09-23 05:03 (UTC)
credit_not_blame: (Happy)

Re: g

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-09-23 05:21 am (UTC)(link)
[He sounds so aggravated she can't help but giggle.]

I mean, if I'm not, something real weird is going on. I can shift and you can have your coat back, but you have to promise to keep everyone else from freaking out. I can't talk when I'm a wolf monster, my mouth and throat are the wrong shape.
parannoyed: (001)

Re: g

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-23 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
[Now it isn't just the bridge of his nose, now Wash is just dragging both hands down his face because first it was that other guy talking about vampires and now he's sitting next to someone who is either delusional or - more likely, at this point - in fact an actual werewolf.]

Or! You can just keep the coat.

[To his credit, if he is actually cold, he's suppressing the hell out of the shivering right now.]
Edited 2020-09-23 05:50 (UTC)
bothbarrels: (H: It's the Alpha)

Agent North | Red vs. Blue

[personal profile] bothbarrels 2020-09-23 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
i. new boss —

North and Theta have always made a good team. There’s less for Theta to do now that North doesn’t have any specialized equipment for Theta to run, at least most of the time, but Theta does enjoy things like suggesting to North when and where to point his flamethrower. Nothing like watching the eggs they are spraying with flames pop!

But it’s different here. Here, there’s a massive creature above them who seems all but eager to swallow North up. “Watch out!” Theta cries out, oh-so-helpfully, as North dodges an attack.

“I’m watching,” North assures him, pausing ever-so-briefly in his motions. He’s used to this kind of thing from Theta. Theta cares for him as much as he himself cares for the AI,, and he doesn’t intend to put himself in a position to cause himself to be put in any danger, because that means Theta would be put in danger as well.

Except, apparently, on this occasion, because the Queen smashes North into the edge of the chamber and North finds himself crumpled, breathless, on the ground.

“Hey,” he calls to someone whose image swims nearby. He knows he’s taken a real blow just from that, from the way his vision wavers. “Help me!”

No matter what the other person does, though, he’s going to stagger to his feet and point that flamethrower in the approximate direction the queen is in now.

ii. homecoming king —

“What is that?” Theta asks aloud as the creature thunders ever closer to their position.

“Doesn’t really matter,” North grunts, whipping out a rifle. “It’s the thing that’ll kill us first if it has its way.”

“Don’t let it do that!” Theta says, retiring his hologram in short order as North takes a brave step forward.

“I won’t,” he says. The creature keeps making its way toward the company, rapid steps and loud trumpeting doing everything it can to hold their attention.

“All right,” he says grimly, then nods over to whatever compatriot is standing by his side. “You ready for this?”

iii. on the road —

North has plenty of people in his vicinity needing his expertise in comforting and otherwise aiding people who have gone through a hard time. He has experience with the recently-traumatized, and it seems like Theta is doing okay in the aftermath of all of that. So North kind of keeps an eye out for anyone struggling with the aftermath of what’s just occurred. He nods to anyone who seems out of sorts, keeping a gentle and friendly expression on his face.

“You doing all right?” he might ask. Or he might start with something more of an ice breaker: “I don’t think I’ve been in a situation quite like that one, have you?”

And should it prove that anyone’s suffering physically from what’s just been encountered, he’s able and willing to intervene with that, as well. Just because someone is dying from a parasitic creature emerging from their body doesn't mean they don't deserve some compassion.
Edited 2020-09-23 05:59 (UTC)
parannoyed: (015)

iii

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-23 06:54 am (UTC)(link)
It's maybe the angle of Wash's face that makes who he is not immediately obvious. Turned away just slightly, resting against a cloth partition. Eyes closed, for a moment, as he catches his breath after the mission. He's also got some kind of healing goo the transport medic put on a few patches of his face for the acid burns.

But it's also just a different face, the way you can sometimes notice the difference between "pushing thirty" and "pushing forty." The lines on his face had been there when he was younger but they were so fine then. Now they've solidified into permanent frown lines and eternal bags under his eyes that didn't used to be there. His hair is no longer in that sporty, spiky hair cut, it's just short and sensible, and there are a few tiny places where there are some strands that are a little too light to be blonde.

Wash's face is even a touch older than he remembers it due to the missing memories, but at least that was only a few years. To North, it may as well be the face of a stranger.

Especially when Wash never looked that worn down. It's a face that looks cold, and distant, and hollow. Eternally tired. Whatever took hold of him after the failed implantation of Epsilon...it looks like it never let go. It's a far cry from the upbeat goof who got his nuts grappled and mastered the art of eating with his helmet on because he thought it'd be more "efficient." That's the most noticeable change, in the end. When he finally looks over at North, sees who's actually talking to him, the light in his eyes that used to be there? That's gone.

Even when he sits up, eyes widening in shock, even as he huffs out a little shocked breath instead of words he can't find, and sucks another breath in, even when he's alert and paying attention to something, the light is gone.

He lets out the breath he'd been holding.

"I...I guess I fell asleep."

He says it in a very vague way, like he's talking more to himself than North, and leans back again.

"So why are you here, to do some kind of Jiminy Cricket thing? Is that how this dream is going to work?"

That's what this has to be, his subconscious trying to punish him for making the deal he made with Jorgmund, for caving into their threats. And it picked one of the few people that could actually make him feel guilty to do it.

That's the only thing this could be because it can't be North. North had been a corpse last Wash saw him, and thanks to Wash, he wasn't even that anymore. Now he was just charred dust.
Edited 2020-09-23 06:55 (UTC)
bothbarrels: (H: Used to looking out for people)

[personal profile] bothbarrels 2020-09-23 02:32 pm (UTC)(link)
It all takes a few moments for North. Processing who's talking to him, the fact that he looks so much different and oh-so-worn, the fact that he seems to believe that he's in a dream.

Theta watches from inside his head, just a quiet observer, but he notices it, too—Wash is here, and he had changed.

North feels his brow furrow just a little. He tilts his head, then swaps seats to be next to Wash instead of across the way and catty-corner away from him—luckily that spot is empty. This situation would appear to require some close-up concentrated conversation.

"I'm probably here for the same reason you are, Wash," he says. "And I...don't really think that this is a dream."

He pauses, setting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward a little.

"I have my theories about why we're here," he adds. "Considering everything I'd learned about the Project before leaving it..." He sighs and shakes his head a little. "I hope this isn't too hard for you to hear. But I believe we've been sold out."
parannoyed: (016)

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-23 06:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Wash never squirmed that far away from any of the others before, body language tense from anyone being close.

Especially when that someone is ghost.

Of all possible reactions Wash could give to "Freelancer sold us out," laughter possibly doesn't rank very high on the list. It's just slightly on the edge of hysterical, due to the absolute ludicrousness of a) North being here, even if it's a dream, b) thinking Project Freelancer still exists when Wash wiped it out, partly due to Epsilon and the Alpha, and himself, but also in part due to all the corpses - like North's - he got tired of seeing.

Sold out by his own sister for an AI because Freelancer wanted to play games with the two of them and try to make South jealous on purpose, no doubt.

"Hard for me to hear. Riiight."

He pinches his nose, wondering why his brain is punishing him in this specific way, with North pretending to not know what happened.

"You're a decade late and a few dollars short on the 'Freelancer doesn't have our best interests at heart' thing," he says bitterly. "Also late on the fact that the project's gone, but I guess my brain is trying to make this as real to life as possible, since that was after."

After North wasn't around to see it.

"And don't give me an 'after what?' when you know."
Edited 2020-09-23 18:11 (UTC)
fuckcable: (13)

[personal profile] fuckcable 2020-09-23 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It’s a plan. It’s a plan that sucks, but the alternative is equally bad or worse.

The first xenomorph through the door lunges at them, and Rictor lights it up. The creature seems to take an infinity to ignite, and longer to drop to the ground shrieking.
]

I’ll go first. Don’t let them stick their tongue in your brain. Or mine.

[ He says it matter-of-factly, because there isn’t really time to comment on how that’s something he actually has to point out is a possibility.

Ric makes his way around the smouldering alien, carefully but quickly, to the wall, and then creeps nearer to doorway. After seeing what the tail can do in-person, he doesn’t press himself to the wall to find out if it can go through a wall and a chest at the same time. They’re going to be able to see him before he gets too close, but he’s sure they can already smell and hear them.

With about three feet to the door, he nods at the other guy and moves in an arc in front of the door, firing a continuous blast from the flamethrower for a good ten seconds. He waits a beat and steps through the doorway with his head on a swivel.
]
credit_not_blame: (Default)

Re: g

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-09-24 01:54 am (UTC)(link)
Wow, you want to keep talking to me that much? I'm surprised, when I found out I was a werewolf, I started yelling at people.
parannoyed: (010)

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-24 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
Less wanting to talk to you, more not wanting to have to translate for a werewolf.

[He stares straight ahead for a moment, a brief thousand-yard-stare. Wash has mastered cramming those into very short moments.]

A werewolf? Really?
Edited 2020-09-24 04:55 (UTC)
credit_not_blame: (Default)

[personal profile] credit_not_blame 2020-09-24 07:28 am (UTC)(link)
I suppose that I could have the latent ability to warp reality, and those abilities have been channeled by the belief that I'm a werewolf. But that seems unlikely. I can think of a couple points in my life where that would have come up.

[She'll save name dropping the archangel Raphael for a time when she can enjoy the face he will undoubtedly make about it.]
humandroid: (pic#9149789)

[personal profile] humandroid 2020-09-24 07:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ So he is synthetic. Other androids have been enough of a rarity that assuming based on surface observations alone wouldn't have been a good practice. Data doesn't tend to pass for human or near-human himself, but many species in the galaxy can.

The probability of his winding up with Jorgmund at all is incredibly low, of course. Perhaps he should adjust his calculations when it comes to these matters.

Have more... faith in the space for possibility.

Data already has a long list of questions to ask. There's a benefit in being with this corporation for the foreseeable future: he'll have time to ask them all eventually, circumstances willing. And he has time to start asking right now. ]


Were you designed to be a caretaker? Did you create your children?
humandroid: (pic#9129107)

[personal profile] humandroid 2020-09-24 08:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Q.E.D. Mathematical terminology in relation to subjective opinion and emotional reasoning?

A way of expressing certainty, perhaps. Fascinating. ]


I am interested in the exploration of technique, but I believe I understand how it could... distract from the intended emotional impact of the program. Your input is appreciated.

[ Which is as honest as it gets. Now to prioritize, with the utmost of keen interest-- ]

A baby squirrel?
walkingballpit: (31)

[personal profile] walkingballpit 2020-09-24 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There is no logic in this place. Robbie knows what Q. E. D. is used for, but when art is a purely subjective concept, you can prove anything by opinion. ]

Really? I never did any oil painting, but I think “legitimate” artists say that Ross’s technique is bad.

[ He makes the air quotes around legitimate with a broad, lazy gesture. ]

I hate the idea that art that makes people happy and comfortable isn’t art. So you know what? You do you, analyze that technique.

[ Obviously, the guy wants to talk about adorable forest creatures. It’s been that kind of day, so Robbie doesn’t mind obliging him. They all just want to sleep tonight. ]

Yeah, a baby squirrel. He was an animal lover, and he used to rehab baby animals. Sometimes, the show would show a clip of him bottle feeding a baby squirrel. It’s even more adorable than it sounds.
bothbarrels: (H: Used to looking out for people)

[personal profile] bothbarrels 2020-09-25 12:02 am (UTC)(link)
North frowns, but doesn't dispute this version of events. The Project is gone, North’s a decade late, and he already knows about it. Okay.

North sits up straighter.

“I know you’re really upset, Wash. I’m sorry for whatever you’ve been through that’s bothering you. But as far as I can tell this isn’t a dream. Pinch yourself if you need to, but I’m really here. I’m perfectly willing to talk about whatever the problem is, but please don’t take it out on me, okay?”
parannoyed: (018)

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-25 12:16 am (UTC)(link)
Wash stares at him for a good beat, finally considering that maybe, just maybe, he is actually here. That Wash is actually awake. He quite literally pinches himself on the cheek, purposefully picking a place where he was sporting a bruise.

Yep, that hurt! That definitely hurt! And you don't hurt in dreams.

At least when they were his dreams and not the regurgitated suffering of Epsilon. But this is very mundane and new and those had always referenced specific bits of suffering. This feels weird but if it was a dream, it was probably his own.

Except that hurt, so...so maybe it's not a dream.

But it could be a hallucination, so he pokes North, too, several times on the arm. Hard. Once on the cheek because if it was someone else he was imagining as North, they'd probably protest over being poked in the face and break the illusion.

The expression on his face changes because even in his current state of deep fatigue and general ongoing state of coldhearted, ruthless weariness, this is a friend who he thought was dead and gone. Should be dead and gone. This was one recovery beacon among many, an armored body in a yet another pool of blood.

"It's really you? You're here, right now."

He has the undefinable expression of someone who thought their capacity to really feel was close to broken, being force to feel something deep, something sad and hopeful and joyful all at once. It's a strain, making him feel this.
bothbarrels: (H: Guess I'm due for a few lightning bol)

[personal profile] bothbarrels 2020-09-25 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
North actually almost chuckles at being poked, though it's hard enough to rather hurt. He sucks his cheek in when Wash pokes at it, and allows his body to waver in his seat a little to show how hard Wash poked him in the arm.

"I don't know how much it counts for helping to convince you, but that hurt me," he said. "I guess you poking yourself hurt, too."

He crosses his arm over his body so he can pat Wash on the arm, just a couple times, gently.

"I'm really here. I barely understand where here is but..."

He shrugs.

"At first when I woke up here I thought Theta was gone," he confides a moment later. "I wouldn't have put it past them to take him, but they didn't."
parannoyed: (016)

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-25 12:24 am (UTC)(link)
Wash leans forward with his elbow on his knee leaning his forehead onto his head. He closes his eyes tight, keeps them closed.

"What's the, uh." Steady. Steady voice, steady. "What's the last thing you remember from back home?"
bothbarrels: (H: Listening)

[personal profile] bothbarrels 2020-09-25 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
He pauses. A long, long pause. He's considering the question, the tone, the mentions before. You're a decade too late, Wash had said.

"You must know what happened," he says. "Otherwise you wouldn't be asking it that way."

He leans back down again, elbows to knees, head hanging.

"I just remember screaming," he says. "At the end there. South was around the corner, or she was meant to be. Maine was—"

He stops. Shakes his head. He can't bear to tell more. His eyes close briefly. Then he turns his head and looks at Wash. His gaze is piercing, but also sympathetic.

"And you know what I'm talking about, right?"
parannoyed: (011)

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-25 12:41 am (UTC)(link)
Wash doesn't see his gaze because hearing that makes Wash bury his face in both hands and lets out a little "AAAAUGH" in frustration because now apparently his life has been complicated by either time travel or a North from another dimension where he's equally doomed! Great!

"I'm fine! It's fine, I'm fine," he says immediately after the scream, in a voice that is a little higher than Wash would like. "It's fine."

But North won't be fine.

Wash keeps his face buried because it's impossible for it to feel that much at once while trying to simultaneously deaden itself. You can't stop halfway between them, instead it nearly shreds itself trying to be both.

He draws in breath, lets it out, another breath, lets it out.

His words are hollow when he finally forces them out, "I was sent after your recovery beacon."

Of course he was.

Because he was one of the last ones left, barring command's top secret Recovery Two.
bothbarrels: (T: I won't be long)

[personal profile] bothbarrels 2020-09-25 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
Okay, that means North is sitting up and putting an arm over Wash's shoulder. He keeps it loose, though, making it easily possible for Wash to shrug him off.

"You were sent," he repeats, as if agreeing this is what happened. "I guess after Epsilon they put you back on duty."

He can tell Wash has been through a lot. Must have had a real struggle dealing with it after realizing North had died. He wonders what this makes this place, then. Is this the afterlife?

If so, the afterlife is filled with the same kind of garbage as real life.
Edited 2020-09-25 01:05 (UTC)
parannoyed: (016)

[personal profile] parannoyed 2020-09-25 01:07 am (UTC)(link)
He finally sits up again, having regained enough composure to. It's like a little switch has flipped, his voice is calmer, colder, deader.

They all need to compartmentalize. That's part of being a soldier, but it's possible to get too cold, too emotionally dead. If he's not there yet, Wash is heading down that path. The switch flips too cleanly, too suddenly.

He doesn't push North's arm away, though. He has not had a friend touch him in a friendly way for years. Not that they'd ever been touchy feely people in the project, but there had still been comraderie. Hands around each other's shoulders, playful shoves, jostling each other's arms. Wash remembers waking up one of the times he'd been in and out after Epsilon, North at his side, arm around his shoulders, helping him sit up with an "slowly, slowly..."

Was that the last time? The last time he'd ever been in the presence of a friend who was still alive?

(South and Maine hadn't counted.)

(He can't remember holding Carolina's hand on the beach, can't remember Tucker sometimes throwing an arm around his shoulders, can't remember...)

"The funny thing about the people who certify you Article 12 is that they're also the same people who can un- certify you Article 12. When it all hit the fan, everyone scattered."

He looks at the transport wall opposite the two of them, where North had originally been sitting.

"I was the last one left."
Edited 2020-09-25 01:14 (UTC)

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