How long was it since she was released? A week, maybe more? For Vivio, it felt like an eternity. While she missed home and everyone around, having her mothers and Reinforce around made things seem less empty.

Even if she was from their future.

But, at the moment, she wanted to put everything behind her and have some fun. To that end, she took over one of the Sensoriums and pretty much had it recreate a large playground: just because they're on a ship didn't mean she couldn't act like a child!

Letting out a giggle, she ran over to one of the swings and hopped on, pushing herself to start swinging.

(OoC: It's open to all, but the children here are more than welcome to come in and join Vivio! o/)

( Cut for bendytime explanation )

How could he have been so dumb?

It was a miracle that he’d escaped the brig (and the Major, no less), but now Dustin was on the run from everyone and everything. Judging from the crowd that had amassed and followed him inside Neuropathy, there was no doubt that his failed endeavor to get inside Stacy’s brain and fix her, once and for all, had long since been broadcasted to everyone’s Omnicom and had earned him widespread acrimony. Though, then again, he’d still managed to get pretty far into her programming to prove that he’d put up an impressive fight, one that few were probably expecting from him.

No matter; it still wasn’t enough.

So now, downtrodden, starved and exhausted, Dustin wandered into the City. He hadn’t eaten or slept since he woke up, kept hydrated only because he was stabbed by annoying tentacles each time he passed through the Living Area. Frankly he hadn’t expected that he would be on this ship long enough to worry about such matters.

Obviously he was wrong.

Staggering, the scruffy man’s gaunt figure walked blindly forward in a trance-like march. His deep green eyes, accented with bright red veins, were wide open and unblinking, staring at nothing, and yet wandering this way and that as if following invisible lines of text. The gears in his head were turning, nigh audible if one pays attention—though that sound is actually Dustin muttering to himself, quietly and without moving his lips. He seems to be speaking in…Russian? It doesn’t matter, what with the translating systems, because even with them he’s not saying anything coherent. Just numbers and letters…

In a side area of the hangar decks, in one of the spaces with the artificial gravity engaged for maintenance purposes, a set of huge parchments have been rolled out, scrawled across them with obtuse, arcane glyphs in languages thousands of years dead. At the center of the designs is scribed a complex pentacle pattern. Hundreds of candles have been laid out in intricate patterns at the edges of the designs.

And Roxie is there, waiting for her companions for the time being. Also, for some reason, she's using a permanent marker to draw more of those strange, complex glyphs onto her exposed skin, particularly focusing to a 'third eye' design on her forehead. Her glasses are off, vanished into a pocket or somewhere else; without them, there's something almost owlishly squinting to her eyes. A pile of supplies wait for Nanoha and Daimon—in particular, a pressure suit for each (also covered in strange glyphs) and lines to secure themselves to the deck, stand out.