driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Eugene Woods, et al.
Broadcast: Fleetwide video
Action: HS Marsiva hospitality deck
When: 6/13

[Action]

[Eugene isn't necessarily a light sleeper. But he wakes quickly, when something is wrong. And something is definitely wrong, all at once, enough to have him pushing himself up and looking around, breaths coming fast and voiceless and silent.

He doesn't whisper for the name spinning through his head over and over, just pats to the edge of the cot in a haze of cold dread, feels nothing, curls his hand around the edge for balance as he scans the room. Other cots. Other people. The place is clean in a way nothing's been for years, sleek and shiny. Only the lack of overt scientific or medical purpose keeps at bay the worst of his fears, the darkest rumors and insinuations they'd scraped together over the years.

After several long minutes of staring out into the open room, he finds the communicator set down beside him and begins to browse transmissions and archives. Even then, he's tense and silent, eyes flitting up to track any movement or sound.]

[Transmission]

[Later - after a few hours of reading, and observing the goings-on around the deck, and a few several-minute stints of just trying to breathe slowly and not freak out - Eugene makes his first effort at hailing the network. He's set the device down on his pillow, and his expression is soundly unimpressed as he sits on the edge of the cot.]

Okay - this is the best open letter to our mysterious production staff that I can manage, but someone has to say it.

Seriously, guys? This is your ratings grab? This is your cool new hook for the week?

[He is not amused. He is so not amused.]

Don't tell me - is this supposed to be the inspirational overcoming adversity angle? Or is it just the kind of good old-fashioned entertainment where we can fly people through space, but we can't toss on a few robot limbs or whatever?

Guess I'll have to wait and see how it all comes out in post-production, huh. Great. Good job guys. Get those viewers.

[He reaches for the communicator and tips it, putting all of himself in the frame - down to left thigh that thins out and ends in a twisted line of scar tissue, several inches above where a knee would be. Eyes narrowed in resentment, he pats it emphatically a few times, then switches off the feed.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[Hiccup woke up earlier, and so he catches sight of someone else on the return trip; he's been making laps and looking for a way out since he woke up. He's certainly a sight-- six feet tall with a metal loop for a foot, clad in leather armor and some bits of rough cloth underneath.

He doesn't notice the guy's missing most of his left leg at first glance. Lots of Vikings are missing limbs. But he does notice his troubled expression, and besides-- it's someone else-- so he approaches, trying to be friendly and reassuring even though he doesn't know how.]

Uh, hey.

[People aren't dragons, Hiccup.]

I guess you're stuck here, too. I've been looking for a way out, but they took everything I had that looked even remotely dangerous.

[There is movement after a short while as the Vision makes his own quiet entrance and begins to look around, processing what he's learned and pondering what to do about all this. it is good to see he's not the only one to come to in such a state at this time, however. He knocks on the wall lightly to draw attention to himself.]

Pardon me, but may I assume you are as recently arrived as I am here?

[Eugene watches the guy approach, and though he is wrapped up in some pretty nice-looking armor, there's not a lot in his body language that telegraphs ill intent. It's the best reassurances he can get at the moment - that the stranger doesn't seem to mean him any harm, and more importantly is at least as out of place as he is.]

. . . yeah.

[He hesitates another moment before he remembers himself enough to lean forward, offering his hand.]

Sorry. Eugene Woods. I, uh. Haven't exactly gotten around to reconnaissance, yet.

_{[ Well, that was a surprising reaction. Most people demanded to know where they were, what had happened. So someone being righteously angry from the get-go was refreshing. ]}

More than likely, Atroma wishes you to seek the aid of us other passengers for such things. I am sure if you appealed to anyone with an engineering augment, they could be of quite some aid to you.

_{[ He had healing magic himself, but it could not fix that unfortunately, else he would offer. ]}

[Eugene's not proud of it, but in the first split-second that his eyes track movement and sees a face that's crimson, he starts. He's had no reason to think that there might be zoms here, but he usually only saw that color on a human face in places where there should have been skin.

His rational brain catches up a second or two later, of course. Informs him that that is his skin, dummy, and look, he seems perfectly in control of himself too. He releases a shaky breath regardless, rubbing a hand over his face and nodding.]

If you just got here, then yes. It looks like we're in the same boat. [Talk. Talk he can do. Talk, he knows, is something he can keep up in almost any circumstance.] Where did they grab you from?

Overcoming adversity, team-building style. Good to know.

[Only kind of good to know. Still tacky and exploitative in the extreme, but at least there's an implied precedent for cooperation.]

It's good to hear we're not working the competitive angle, I guess. Unless I missed something when I was looking around?

[He tilts his head to one side and smiles ever so slightly. Oh yes, his appearance does tend to have an effect on people meeting him for the first time, but the Vision feels it is necessary to establish from the beginning that he is different.]

Upstate New York, as it happens, and since we appear to be rather far away at the moment I will qualify that the planet was Earth. [He gestures to the back of his neck where even now he can feel the augment implant.] I believe I was somewhat altered when I awoke.

I'm certainly not. And while I am sure "viewers" appreciate a little competition, there have not been attempts at dividing us so either.

In said interest of "team-building" - does your limb cause you pain? I have healing magics that might be of some aid, and I am sure that a young man who grows medicinal plants on our ship would not mind parting with some if I but ask. I cannot do anything about it at the moment, but once you are moved from the Marsiva I could arrange to meet you for such purposes.

[If there's one thing Hiccup excels at, it's being awkward. He doesn't really know where to put his hands in casual conversation, so they just end up everywhere. In his hair, maybe tucked in his elbows when he crosses his arms, maybe in his dragon's saddle. If he had a dragon, anyway.]

My name's Hiccup. Nice to meet you. [That's a pretty not-Viking surname, but eh.] The place is... well, it's certainly something. I've, ah, never quite seen anything like it. No visible way out, no way to cut ourselves out, and we're so high up you can't even see the ground.

Not to mention the-- the weird-looking ships out there. Or the fact I know things I shouldn't. It's a lot to take in, to be honest.

You speak as if you expect them to actually care for your opinion at all.

Wait. Ships?

[Eugene hadn't quite gotten around to exploring yet, and he grabs for his crutch, levering himself to his foot and arranging the much-abused pad under his arm. What Hiccup says sounds like it should be reasonable, but none of the edges quite line up - ships and high up jarring with how still everything feels around them.

But ships means that they're going somewhere, right? That they have a trajectory. And that alone, on a deep and instinctive level, feels so much better than being locked down in an unknown building by unknown parties.]

Show me what you're talking about.

Oh?

[Any questions about Earth or the man himself are forestalled with that detail, and Eugene reaches for his own neck on impulse, frowning as his fingers pump over a hard little lump a few inches behind his left ear, hidden in his hairline.]

The hell?

[He can't feel any cut, any stitches or glue, anything at all but that too-smooth lump where a lump should not be.]

Oh- no. It's fine.

[Which is to say that the occasional pains and prickles and itching are bearable by now, and he can ignore them most of the time, or at least deal with it and not make a fuss.]

It's been years now. I guess I just expected someone with spaceships to be able to scrape together a leg. But I guess that's a lot less fun to watch than me figuring it out myself, eh?

I am sure someone on one of the other ships could craft you such a thing, especially those with an engineering augment. It's beyond me, I am afraid, though I have a friend who has such an augment. I could make introductions, if you like.

But I think that would be Atroma's aim in not giving you one - forcing interaction with others.

[He huffs a mirthless not-quite-laugh, shaking his head.]

I don't think anyone who does this kind of stuff for the sake of entertainment is going to lose sleep because I sent in a strongly-worded complaint. If they're doing what I think they're doing, though, it's really tacky. To say the least.

It is, but they will continue to do it. They clearly benefit from it, and so, we continue to live under their whims. I find it easier to not antagonise them, it is like screaming at a wall.

[Meanwhile, Hiccup is definitely wondering where the hell they're going. He loves exploring as much as anyone else, but uh. Where's his dragon? Where's his village? They kinda need him at the moment. Not much to be done about it right now, though.

He steps aside to give Eugene plenty of room. Only then does he notice the man's missing most of his leg. He's distracted by that momentarily, but then he's guiding the man over to the big bay windows.

The stars are out tonight, like every night. Other ships can be seen flying near the Marsiva, though not too close. There's no sign of islands or sun or moon or even clouds... just the occasional waystation blinking in the distance, like a tiny candle floating on black water.]

Ships with no sails. Pretty weird. And yet there's... something telling me how it works, like I heard it in my sleep.

[He nods, expression somewhat concerned.] I assume they are related to the current situation. A reality show peopled entirely with strangers to space travel would end very quickly, otherwise.

[There's a kid on the feed, looking slightly unhappy. It's less to do with Eugene himself and more to do with the fact that Yuya agrees with the guy's complaints, and of course nobody's happy about being here really.]

I heard the people in charge are aliens, so maybe they like a different kind of story than humans do. It's kind of weird that they have TV at all, but...

[Stefan couldn't sleep. Not when this was too vivid and absurd to be a dream - and also partially because vampires didn't really sleep to begin with.

He eventually returns back to the room, hands in his pockets, and gives Eugene a nod of acknowledgment.]

Hey. [Stefan's eyes involuntarily glance down towards Eugene's leg as he approaches, though he quickly shifts his gaze back towards the guy's face. Staring's kinda rude.] Seems like they grabbed more than a few of us for the ride.

[Eugene's used to those quick flickers of looks - or heck, outright stares, given that most people at the end of the world didn't come back from the point of 'we needed to saw off a limb'. He returns the nod, offering a wry look.]

Without even the chance to call shotgun. [He offers his hand to shake.] Eugene Woods.

When you put it that way . . . huh. Small price to play for the lack of screaming.

[He reaches for his communication device, lifting it listlessly and wobbling it around.]

I haven't had a ton of time to read up on what's going on yet. It's all still kind of . . . a lot.

. . . wow.

[Eugene stops near a wall, because while his balance is better now than it was when he first started on the crutch, his balance rolls away from him on a single swell when the entirety of space blooms out in front of him. He steadies himself against the wall, breathing out the single, awed syllable, dragging himself back to focus on Hiccup's voice only with a conscious effort.]

Yeah, I'm . . . guessing you guys haven't gotten to the internal combustion engine, yet. Going by the armor.

[He's amused by Eugene's reaction.] It's beautiful though, huh? I feel like... I could lose myself out there.

[When he's sure Eugene isn't going to fall over, he spares a glance at his own armor.]

What's wrong with-- what do you mean by yet?

[The Vision nods again; he process information faster, but there is a great deal of it and video and audio are much slower than text, since one must go through them in real-time.]

That it is. I will leave you to it, although--

[He frowns, not wanting to bring it up but not really seeing a way to avoid it.]

Do you require assistance with mobility? I'd hate to have you stuck in your room.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

(no subject)

action;

action;

action;

video;

action;

video;

action;

Re: video;

action;

Video

action;

action;

video;

Re: video;

Video

Video

action;

action;

Video

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

Re: action;