Luke sat in the observation deck, straight-backed and cross-legged on one of the fleshy, throbbing chairs.  His eyes were slit open, but they weren't focused on anything--mere glimmers of blue under mostly-shut lids.  He had come here to meditate today, finding that the flashing colors that went by helped, somehow, to give him more focus. 

Blue-pink-red-green-blue-red-black-white--

Luke stretched out his senses, letting them radiate out from him as though he were the nexus of a galaxy.  Immediately and first he felt Stacy's presence and sent her, as he always did, the feeling of gratitude and greeting.

Black-red-yellow-green-orange--

Out farther, and he could feel the others on the observation deck with him, going about their daily lives on the ship.  They sat here and there, talking among themselves or lost in thought.  He touched them, then moved on, finding as his meditation brought his awareness out to its limits, the presences of those he knew here.

Patsy Walker was quickly discovering that the media library onboard Stacy had vast amounts of information on almost any subject that she wished to look up. After having been distracted by looking up the history of lipstick, reading about Marie Antoinette, and discovering a trashy beach read, she had gotten down to business and started researching Hell and Satan and all of that stuff. And boy, do I wish I hadn’t. All of this information couldn’t be more contradictory if it tried, she mused. I mean, okay, I want to understand Daimon, I do – why, I don’t know, but I’m drawn towards it just the same – but so much of this just refuses to make any coherent sense!

Clearly, if she was going to understand him, she’d have to approach this from a different route.

Whatever that route was. Talk to him some more?

She shook her head and went back to some light, fluffy reading. Not that Joan Collins was light and fluffy. Really, it was more hot and heavy.

And bad on you for imagining Daimon as your bodice-ripping stud!

And the lab at Legion World--now destroyed, of course--is home. It was home, at any rate. Who knows how much of home is still there after the Legion was ripped from time and space, but Brainy, at least, isn't horribly sentimental.

Just slightly, as his configuring the Sensoriums to be like his lab indicates.

He is, however, actually doing useful things with the mock laboratory, using better equipment than he has available to work on improving actual physical equipment.

Quite possible, in his own way, he's brooding, as well, although even he has no idea that he's doing it.

All he knows is that he has a twelfth-level mind capable of doing just about anything, and yet, for some reason, it's not capable of striking the memory of Kara's hurt expression from his thoughts.

Due in part to his cooperation, Daimon was released from the brig after several days. The experience had certainly given him further incentive to control his darksoul he hoped.

There were several people he wished to talk to but he was tired in his soul if not his body.

He wandered the city. He wanted to return to the Vatican but he was afraid of what he would see. He was even more afraid of what he might do.

If Leon Kennedy had not stopped him, what would he have done to Sawyer?

It was REAL. The Doc is SURE that it had to be real. He SAW it!

He's honestly quite upset that he didn't get his hands on it. (DAMN Glados!)

But oh well, no matter, this is what the sensoriums are for.

"No there were a few more strawberries." he said seriously, examining the shifting form of a cake sitting on the table in front of him. Stacy was doing her level best to re-create his torn-away prize from his descriptions.

"Oh and a candle!"

Asking Stacy a few questions informed Kyle that the best place to work on melting down and rebuilding Yoshimi's SMG would be the Special Weapons Lab, and after a few wrong turns, he ended up there almost by accident.

Thankfully, it was empty, and he looked around thoughtfully, examining the various equipment. It's not a proper weapons-making facility, lacking some equipment and with only primitive versions of others, but he can work with it. Placing the broken SMG, and its small pieces, on a table free of other people's work, he set about finding some equipment. A heat source and a mold of some sort were imperative; he had a small laser chisel in his bag for finer work, but he needed the general shape. Some searching provided him with a small gas burner, a crucible, and a small, cylindrical mold. The last was a lucky find; he could use the laser chisel to make rectangular shapes, but it was harder to use it to make something round.

Using the crucible, he melted the SMG down in pieces, leaving the barrel, chamber, and trigger alone; those were fine, although they needed a good cleaning. After molding a number of the small cylinders, he set to work shaping them into the rest of the gun, with one cylinder set aside to make a silencer with.

He's not sure whether Yoshimi's going to wait for him to send her a message, or just come of her own accord - or, for that matter, whether someone's going to just walk in, and he keeps an ear out just in case. It probably wouldn't end well if he was startled while pouring molten stainless steel.

Despite how very strange her private adventures on the ship had been, Sherry was getting used to it. It was good to be adaptable, anyway, her old parents had said so, and her new parents agreed. She had managed to find herself a quiet little place in the sensoriums, and made it look like like a park she'd remembered from Raccoon -- before the zombies, of course. Sherry made a face at nothing and dropped herself on a blanket in the grass near one of the big, man-made lakes. A gaggle of geese waddled down the path a bit away, and the weather was sunny, with the promise of autumn on the wind.

While it was nice to sleep in the Precinct, it wasn't the same as sleeping in her own room, or even napping in the park. Like she was trying to today... only, it wasn't working as well. With a growl of frustration, Sherry say up and started pulling at the grass irritably. Her brain needed to turn itself off right now, so she wouldn't keep thinking about stupid things like all these new people or zombies, or school. Again.