Selene was used to weird. After a year of what she had thought of 'extremely lucid dreaming,' she had started to become accepting of most things. It'd be why she thought she might have had a mental problem when she had problems with college when, as she'd later find out, she left her body at home. It probably also helped her when her doctor posed the idea she was leaving her body. After another five years of wandering other dreams, her definition of what was 'weird' was hard to reach.

Not even Stacy was weird to her. The tentacle stuff was creepy, but again, something rather common. The suit was new and it took a bit to adjust to that, but not what she thought was long enough for a 'normal person.' Which she was posing to be. She didn't know what was going on for sure and having this ship being an ORGANIC ship, she couldn't get through the walls. She didn't know why she could go through tech, go through living people, but when it's combined into an organic machine, she can't get through. Probably something with it's mental frequency being like that. She'd tried it a few times, but it was a no go.

So she'd explore the ship she could go to first, alternating between reality and the dreams of the pod sleepers. At least she was pretty sure it was their dreams. It was a bit hard to determine where she ended up relatively as her body was always moving with the ship.

She did find this place though. The art hall. The statues would have been disturbing if she was easily disturbed. Instead, she just found them interesting and was quite happy to study them. Then there was this one.

A statue that was always shifting. If first caught her attention because it had changed to a shape she had seen in one of the dreams. It wasn't anyone on the crew, at least as far as she knew, but it had been a rather unique scenario, some wearing what looked like boxers on their head and attacking with a huge sword to what looked like a humanoid cat. She only saw it in one dream, upon the ship, and that's what caught her attention.

So she came back when she was awake again, watching it with interest. "I wonder if it shows things from the minds of the people on board, or if that was just a fluke?" She muttered.

 Kyle's not too pleased with himself. Back home, he made a habit of carrying around writing materials, because inspiration struck at random moments - it never waited until he was at his desk - and he had to record them quickly. Here, though, there was no paper or pencil in his bag, and he didn't know where to find any. Which led to him combing the halls, looking for a room where he might find writing utensils.

After twenty minutes of fruitless wandering, it had finally struck him that there was someone who happened to know where everything was, and would answer his questions. So he just asked Stacy - only to find out that he'd been carrying both with him all the time.

Somehow, he'd missed the memo about being able to write on one's omnicom. So, rather disgruntled with himself, he's retreated to the Obs Deck, and found himself a nice chair. It's not hard to avoid thinking about the fact that he's sitting on a chair made of bouncy, <i>fatty</i> tissue, when he's sketching neat guns with the stylus. At least the stylus behaves like an ordinary pencil, and doesn't require any of his (nonexistent) knowledge of computer programming and usage.

He's designing a gun that has an abnormally-long barrel, and sketches of what look like little magnets next to it - essentially, a sniper rifle based on the principles of a rail gun. Other half-fleshed-out sketches had been put aside; a few vaguely grenade-like spheres, a couple more guns, a rod of some sort...

[Open. Anyone who likes guns/engineering is welcome to talk shop with him, as is anyone who wants to meet a paranoid inventor. Sounds like the perfect setup for a good time, right? XD]