driftfleet | Don't Dead, Open Inside || Action

Entry tags:

Don't Dead, Open Inside || Action

Who: Carl Grimes, a bunch of zombies, and you
Broadcast: kinda?
Action: Waystation
When: Right now

(( ooc: This is a blanket content warning for blood/gore/death. So! There are zombies ahead and you’ve found yourself on the waystation! You have two options: evacuate, or fight them off. Things of note to remember: Being bitten or scratched are the easiest ways for infection. We don’t suggest being eaten. Magic will be hit or miss depending on player preference/discretion. Characters who become zombies will be treated as in-character deaths. Standard rules apply! The event will last a total of 24 hours. Have fun, and enjoy all the undead things. If there are any questions or anything at all, feel free to pm this journal or hit me up at

skorozima. ))

[ The Fleet has been floating along its predetermined path for the past few days, getting further and further away from the Yadrolla System and toward unknown territory. Along the way, those oh-so convenient waystations continue to pop up at their usual intervals. Identical in every way to every other, boring waystation. Neat, right? There are even some of those familiar orange-skinned aliens and some human travelers milling about and generally minding their own business. It’s a good place to stretch your legs, get sodas of questionable flavor, and take those nifty new pets for a walk!

Interrupting the general peace of the waystation, a shrill siren starts, and a robotic voice comes over the intercom as well as all communication devices on the station and surrounding spacecraft, repeating a monotone message. ]

ATTENTION. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. LOCKDOWN IMMINENT. ATTENTION. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. CALMLY EVACUATE USING THE NEAREST EXIT. LOCKDOWN IMMINENT..

[ Soon, it becomes apparent to those on the waystation what the emergency is. A gaggle? A murder??? Just.. a lot of undead. They’re not in any particular hurry, shambling and stumbling along.. until they spot what looks like some good eats. That seems to get them excited, arms stretching forward, teeth gnashing, and more growling than any sort of verbal mishmash meant to be words. ~~THEY’RE NOT A WORDY PEOPLE, OKAY?~~

For those looking to escape, it’s quite easy to outrun them unless you’re not paying attention to your surroundings. Corners can be tough! Just don’t get bit or scratched and all is well, except for their incessant attempts at making you a snack. For those who haven’t come across them before, or have run into some variation of them in another world, they’re resilient up to the point of losing their head or the brain being destroyed. Limbs being broken or missing don’t seem to slow them down, just send them a little off-balance.

All they know is attack and eat.

For those of the fleet still on their ships, they gravitate around the waystation, seemingly not wanting to go anywhere. There is a short window of time from the emergency alert to the entire waystation going on lockdown. Those wishing to help evacuate can do so- but they have to be quick!

Once the lockdown is in place, communication ceases with the waystation. All the rest of the fleet can do is sit and wait, and hope for the best. The doors will re-open twenty-four hours later, once it’s clear the situation is handled and they can regroup, count their losses, and wait once again for the perished to rejoin their ranks. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mmmhmm, maybe not all the time. [She has seen him in pajamas a few times sharing a ship with him and all.] But it's definitely a signature piece.

Want me to turn around?

I like the colour. It also has a lot of great pockets to hide things in!

[The colour red to remind him on his determination to see Rem's dream come true and lots of places to hide bullets.

He considers her offer to turn around. Very few people still on the fleet have managed to catch him without a shirt on and for good reason. What did he want from this relationship? What did Kitty want? Depending on the answer it wasn't really fair to her to keep hiding the physical scars he carried. Unlike the mental ones those couldn't stay hidden forever.]

Ah. That. See, um, the thing is-- [How do you not awkwardly tell someone you're hideous to look at?] --you may want to? I probably should have told you sooner, but I ah, I have a couple scars. Well, more like a few. Okay. Actually. I have a lot. I have a lot of scars. [Blunt is sort of working.] Most people tend to look away and are pretty uncomfortable seeing them.

[She looks up at him, brushing those little errant pieces of blond hair back. She'd offered to turn around because they hadn't gotten very far into anything physical yet, and she just wanted him to feel comfortable, but now she feels like it might be more important to see him, so that he knows it's okay to be himself in front of her.] Vash, I've seen scars before. Bad ones. [She doesn't mention her own because if he's this worried about it she's sure they're worse than hers which got proper treatment even under severe conditions. But she does think of Tyki briefly and the massive scars crisscrossing his body. And certainly she saw a lot of scars and wounds and amputations back home.]

[He likes the way her fingers brush through his hair as he idly wonders if she'll leave when she sees. He wouldn't hold her against her or anyone at all if they did.] Yeah? Have you seen someone who looks like a cheese grater, a lawn mower, and a wood chipper all had a party together on top of them?

[Maybe she has? But Vash had yet to see someone not act somewhere between surprised and horrified upon seeing what's under his coat.]

I've never told you about the cheese grater, a lawn mower, and a wood chipper parties from my world? [She gives his cheek a soft kiss, wanting to reassure him. Then she experimentally slides a hand down to one of the many buttons of Vash's coat, gently working it loose, and giving him time to object.]

Sounds like a wild party. [He tries to make a joke, but honestly he's a bit nervous. Even with the reassuring kiss.

He doesn't stop her as she starts to remove the buttons. Telling himself that this was fair. That maybe this would give her a better idea of the mess she was welcoming into her life in a way that words couldn't rightly explain.

She may or may not be surprised to find that under that jacket is some body armor it's design is intended to let him move freely so it's not exactly bullet proof, but more to take the brunt of an impact. She may have felt it under his coat before.

It also means more things to unhook to get the full view of his chest. Even with most of him still covered she should be able to see a preview of what's hiding underneath the armor. Old burns, gashes missing from his flesh, angry scars that didn't heal well peek out near his shoulders. That area being left free so he has full motion of his arms.]

Whatever you feel when you see. It's alright. Good or bad it's fine. [Sort of. He will at least understand.

And if she keeps going? She will find one hell of a mess.]

Oh, yeah, they're real cut ups. [See what she did there? Is this the right conversation to be having as her fingers peel away the last of his buttons and then slide under the red fabric to gently push it down over his shoulders until she frees him from it leaving only the body armor?

She gets her first look at what he's talking about in the barest of ways. It does look like they were never treated or or never treated well. Or maybe something about his body doesn't heal as smoothly as it could or it was the environment or... Well, there could be a lot of reasons and it doesn't really matter. It is what it is now.

The body armor itself still covers a lot of him. It would be easier to just phase it off of him, but she figures that would be too jarring for him. Maybe her too. She's not worried about the scars that concern him, but this is taking things further. How ready is she? Easier to find out one fastening at a time.]

I already like you, Vash. It's not contingent on anything. [At least not contingent on what she finds as she works the body armor loose. Although as she sees more of the scarring her touch does become softer as if she's concerned she might hurt him more somehow. But there's no shock or disgust on her face or deeper within her. Once she has things loosened she looks at him for permission to remove it. Adding in a few words while she's at it.] Is this okay?

Yeah... well... [He trails off. Realizing it's rude to assume her so superficial as to care about how he looks.] Just, yeah, if you want to call them gross or anything. I've heard a lot worse!

[He reaches forward to help with the armour. It can be a hassle to put on and take off even when you know how it's done sometimes.] Yeah. It's fine. People usually find out sooner or later. Sometimes sooner is for the best.

[How much more awkward would this conversation have been in a year or longer from now?]

I know the feeling. [Not in body insecurity so much. Oh, she has some of those too. It's hard not to when you spent your teenage years with people like Ororo, Jean, and Alison. Ridiculous knockouts all of them.] I was feeling the same way about what I had to tell you tonight.

[It would be kind of superficial for her to see him differently or lesser because of the remains of harm that's come to his body, but sometimes she can be superficial. Not intellectually or knowingly necessarily, but there are people she's more attracted to than others before she even knows them and has anything else to judge them on. Maybe it's not ideal, but it's pretty common. She understands why he'd be worried. She assumes (especially since he just confirmed it) he's gotten less-than-pleased reactions in the past and even if he hasn't, she knows how hard it can be to fight your own insecurities. You're always with your mind and it can be kind or cruel to you whenever it wants.

She wants to steady herself and control her own microexpressions—as if she could—once he's fully revealed but she can't help but looking a little confused. It's not the scars. She understands scars.]

What is this? [Her fingers hover just above the metal...cage? covering part of his chest.]

[Vash grins despite the nervousness he was feeling. Reaching over to lightly knock on the grate on his chest. That one was always an eye catcher. Followed by some of the random bolts and other bits of metal that jut out or have been slapped onto his skin.]

Yeah, medicine back home wasn't exactly what someone might call advance.

Vash, it's a metal cage. How is that even backward medicine? Have you had a doctor here look at it yet? [Clearly concerned. Maybe this isn't where she should be focusing right now, but...CAGE! MEDICINAL CAGE!]

Well, the town I got it from didn't really have a real doctor. Or medical supplies. They did the best they could with what they had. [Just ignore the fact that they were trying to kill him before that.]

And no. I didn't even think to have someone look at it. [His scars have been a part of him for so long he didn't even think of it. His skin had healed over the metal and he was told by a respectable doctor so long ago that it couldn't be safely removed that he's just learned to deal with it.]

[She gently lays her hand over it since he was tapping it before. Should be safe.] I have a sudden strong impulse to go to your world and teach everyone there first aid. You should have someone look at it. [Is she overstepping yet?] Preferably someone who was also a doctor back home. Strange maybe. [The person, not a description of the advice though it might be hard to tell.]

I suppose it is a bit strange. [Nope. He's not figured out she means a person.] If you're really worried I could have someone look at it. Anders seen it a couple times, but he didn't say anything about it.

[Maybe it was a respect thing? Or maybe he didn't really know what to do with it. Hard to say really.]

...No, no, I mean Dr. Strange. He's a person. A doctor. Also magic. You're not...this isn't strange. Or that's not the problem. It is something I haven't seen before, but it's just... That's not how you heal living tissue. If it were supporting a a bone or something or it was cybernetic, sure... [She feels a little at a loss for words and she's realizing she's probably doing the opposite of making him comfortable here.] I don't know, maybe it's fine. I just wouldn't want it to lead to heavy metal poisoning in the future or something. That could be really dangerous. [Making him worry about his life. Nice save?]

I'm not sure Ander's world is that advanced either.

Yeah... well, it stops my clothes from snagging on the skin? [It's a weak excuse and he knows it.] They did their best. I think. Mostly... [He's pretty sure some in that town were still hoping he'd die.]

How long does it take to get heavy metal poison? [That's something he's never considered before. Then again, Vash rarely puts much thought into his own well-being.] Would it take longer than twenty years?

That probably depends on the metal, the person, and the environment. Maybe? Or maybe you wouldn't. Maybe you can't. Just get it checked to be sure? We don't want to lose you. [The "we" was important. She wasn't ready to say the "I" even if it's what she meant. And for what it's worth she's sure the crew and the fleet agrees.]

Ugh. You really think I should? Doctors give me the gitters. [Having seen his scars who could blame him?]

They're so pokey! Touching everything and asking embarrassing questions. Like; does it hurt when I do this? What did you eat today? Donuts are not a healthy meal. How often do you poop? What does your poop smell like? How does your body push out bullets on its own? I'm going to stick this cold thing up your butt.

They all seem obsessed with the butt! Then they want to stick needles into you and take "samples" and just... ugh.

Well, you do have a nice butt. Maybe just ask them to focus on the metal? I don't think it'll be the same here as it was at home for you. [She's sure the scarring wouldn't have been as bad if someone with better training and supplies had looked it over at the time. Her hand slowly drifts from the cage down his side, skimming over the textured skin.]

Your body really pushes bullets out? [Only so surprised. After all, she knows he isn't human. Of course how does the body know when to get rid of bullets and keep wound cages? Interesting.]

[Did she just say he has a nice butt? He grins and opens his mouth to playfully mention that she hasn't seen that landscape yet and to hold her opinion. Then decides that seeing "above the belt" is enough for now. He doesn't want to say something that might make her curious enough to keep searching.]

Well, it depends on how deep and straight they hit. I still need to mostly take them out myself. [He winces as a memory comes back to him.] Especially as sometimes my body will try to heal around them if they're not properly removed. [He thinks briefly about his brother. Who had learned how to completely rebuild nearly his entire body. Maybe if he wasn't so scared of his own abilities he could have done something like that too.] I'm not exactly sure how it works if I'm honest. I just know I tend to heal faster than most humans.

[He doesn't stop Kitty's fingers from exploring. Unsure if being overly concerned was better or worse than being disgusted or afraid. As she skims down his side Kitty will likely notice that smooth bits of skin are few and far between. Mostly it's all scar tissue on top of scar tissue. Or if not scar tissue there are other bits of metal screwed into his flesh.]

[She's seen it through clothes! Though it is almost always covered by his coat and when it's not pajamas aren't that revealing. She still believes.]

Sounds like it's a good ability to have even if it doesn't work all the time. [Now that they've discussed doctors even though he didn't exactly promise to go, she's willing to back off of that and be more in the moment with him. Her hand keeps slowly, curiously exploring, taking in the fraught landscape, but not seeming bothered by it.]

[He will consider seeing a doctor. If only so Kitty will worry less will be the best way to get him to actually go. There has only ever been one doctor Vash has been comfortable seeing and he wasn't in the Fleet.]

I would be lying if I said it hasn't come in handy. Despite what it may look like. [Her hands will find large gashes missing. Even bigger than the one caged off so at least it doesn't seem like a normal practice. There's some clean stitching placed by a practiced hand. Other stitching that is jagged and clearly done by an amateur. There are other puckered areas of tough skin that has scarred over long ago. Then of course there is his left arm. The hand looks and feels like skin and it's the only part that isn't scarred. The arm from his wrist to just below his shoulder is metal. Of course, she has the memory now of what happened to that missing arm. The way his brother had shot it off so long ago.]

So. Still think you've seen bad scars before?

You are so competitive. [She doubts he really wants to compete over that.] I've seen worse. [Of course she's also seen all kinds of horrors from war wounds and what mutant powers can do to a person's own body, so she knew that was going to be true no matter what he revealed. This is worse than she expected.] You should see Dead Man Wade sometime.

Dead Man Wade? I have to say -the Stampede and Shadowcat are much nicer nicknames. I think we really lucked out.

[He relaxes slightly under her touch when she admits that she's seen worse. For some reason that made him feel just a little better.] So, you've seen worse than "cages"?

Well, he was a bad guy. Maybe that's part of the deal.

[She's happy to feel his muscles feeling less tense under her fingertips.] When it comes to body manipulation I've seen worse than cages. When it comes to things meant to heal, well... I don't think I'd ever go to a doctor in your home world.

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CW: For butt in the last link

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Omg... It's 2am. What am I doing?

You were so saved by my internet glitch!

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