This was disgusting. Naked, covered in some substance he wasn't sure he wanted to identify, Shinzon got to his feet. He was unsteady, uncertain - and alive.
His hands moved across his torso, sliding through gook in search of the entrance wound that had to be there. But his skin was whole, marred by old scars - there was a distinct lack of a pole though his upper body, and that made less sense than where he was now.
He was supposed to be dead.
Following the lights as they appeared, Shinzon looked down at the pods, unbroken and whole. The view offered no answers, and neither did the vines, which refused to be swatted away. Being clothed and clean was well enough, but Shinzon needed more an those feelings of - love or - no matter.
He'd been trained to resist telepathy, but allowed Stacy's (what kind of name was that?) words in with a frown. A great purpose indeed.
no subject
His hands moved across his torso, sliding through gook in search of the entrance wound that had to be there. But his skin was whole, marred by old scars - there was a distinct lack of a pole though his upper body, and that made less sense than where he was now.
He was supposed to be dead.
Following the lights as they appeared, Shinzon looked down at the pods, unbroken and whole. The view offered no answers, and neither did the vines, which refused to be swatted away. Being clothed and clean was well enough, but Shinzon needed more an those feelings of - love or - no matter.
He'd been trained to resist telepathy, but allowed Stacy's (what kind of name was that?) words in with a frown. A great purpose indeed.
He must be mad. There was no other answer.