Give it up. You lost. Get out of my head.

"No."

Really. Be reasonable. You have to climb out every three days and hang out in your swimming pool, or you're going to die. It's been two and a half already. Climb out like a good little slug-thing, and maybe I'll talk Brainy into building you a nice Habitrail.

"Maybe. I'm not taking that chance."

So--what? You're going to use my greymatter as your deathbed? Gross. Do you things rot in there, or do you ooze out when you die. Because rotting slugthing in my brain is just not something I want to deal with.

"I'm about to starve to death, and this is what you're worrying about?"

Don't expect me to be sympathetic. You took me over with no intention of ever giving me control of my own body again, and tried to kill my friends. I'll probably do a jig on your sluggly little grave.

"And here I thought you weren't going to turn into that psycho in your future."

I'm not--I won't.

"Delighting in the slow and painful death of another sentient creature? I don't know--sounds a lot like him to me."

...Why yes. Tim is strapped down to his bed, and it really does look like he's talking to himself.

Over the days and weeks the crew had been on the ship, Danny had sort of unofficially commandeered one of the Media Library's pod rooms as his sleeping quarters. Not intentionally mind you, but by virtue of that fact that he just generally ended up falling asleep in there instead of going to his cubbyhole when he got tired.

Right now he was flipping disinterestedly through a novel that was on one of the pads.

Brenda's tired. She's been fluttering between sitting with Paco or looking over Kate for a good chunk of hours now. When Jaime came in to stay with Paco for a while she took the opportunity for a break gratefully.

She doesn't wander far from the Med Bay, just along the nearby halls. There are doors marked for 'Contagion Containment and Treatment' but a quick tug on the handle shows her how very locked they are and frankly Brenda isn't so enthused with the idea of opening them. The other side of the hall however is apparently the 'Special Weapons Division' and not so locked.

The lights in the room come on as the steps inside, leaving the doors open behind her. She wants to call the space eerie but that's not really the right word. It looks like it was probably very nice before, but where half the room still seems relatively pristine and orderly the rest has been absolutely torn asunder. Beds overturned, instruments strewn about... like a bomb went off.

She wanders deeper in, to the dimmer side of the room where the lights are smashed out at some intervals and runs a hand along the soft top of one of the beds, pulled askew from it's place on the wall.

"Damn... wonder what happened in here."

Ok, so perpetually hanging out in the medbay had finally become boring and tiresome enough for Sawyer to venture out into the ship. Granted, he was unarmed and, granted, he had gotten the warning not to go walking around by himself just like everyone else, but listening to 'orders' wasn't exactly one of Sawyer's strong suits. That went especially for orders that were accompanied with an authoritative tone by someone who thought that they were in charge. So, of course, he didn't listen...

When he stepped into the city, Sawyer's mouth fell open and his eyes went wide as they drifted over the massive structures and the false sky above. "Well this makes sense," he commented, sarcastically, to himself.