trans_9 | Survivalist End [Open]

|| Medical personnel, please report to the Observation Deck. ||

The shuttle from 'Eden' returns to Stacy, carrying the rescue crew and the original crew members that went down to answer the first distress signal. The returning people are bloodied, battered, some grievously injured. Maxine, Diana and Clef are dehydrated and haven't eaten in days. Karis is missing her entire lower half.

But at least she's better off than the corpse and the wand hastily wrapped in sheets and clothing and lying in the back of the return shuttle. Howard Bassem and Cedric Diggory, one laid cold and still by death and the other not even in enough pieces to be scraped up and taken back, never made it home alive. The official causes of death will be respiratory failure and spontaneous combustion, respectively, as if to to provide a clinical, accurate excuse in lieu of questioning a ship that sends children on dangerous missions.

Stacy quickly determines that she is the most qualified to deal with Karis' case and whisks her away to a secluded section of the Medical Bay. The rest of the survivors and the tragedy are left for the crew to deal with.

[OOC: Bendytimed to right before the tournament plot.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Howard's dead. He died down on the planet."

Orc's look of confusion didn't change, not a single pebble. The news washed over him like a wave from the ocean.

Howard. Dead.

It just didn't make sense. He was so good at keeping himself safe. Hiding, running. Using people to keep him alive.

People like Orc.

Howard was dead, because Orc hadn't been there.

He tried to imagine it. Imagine a day where Howard didn't pop in to make sure he had beer and food. Or where he wasn't asking Orc to move something for him.

The amount of time that passed between when she had said it and how long it took for him to process the words in his shock stretched on entirely too long. "Oh."

was all he could think to say. There was a pressure in his chest he was unfamiliar with. Was it anger? Regret?

Diana just stood and waited, looking him over until he finally spoke.

She decided she would tell him how it happened, despite how little she knew, maybe it would help, maybe it wouldn't, maybe it would make things worse, whatever happened, she told him. "He got hurt pretty badly and it got infected. He ended up getting really sick."

The words drifted into his head as she spoke them with that voice that was often enticing and more often cutting and he felt more numb then he had since the day his skin became a mess of gravel.

"Sick." He echoed and nodded as if he understood. But he didn't, he couldn't. It didn't make sense. Howard dieing because he was sick?

That word, infection. He knew what it meant, he could remember scraping his knee when he was younger and complaining when his mother had cleaned the wound talking about infection. Infection was just a word. A word that meant nothing really. He had never seen it other then when sickness had cut through the FAYZ like a thrasher in a wheat field.

"What hurt him?" Yes...good question. That almost made him feel like he was handling things well. But his mouth was dry like sand and all he could think about now was Howard and death and dieing and what happened when you died. Did Howard believe in god still? No, stupid question Howard had never really believed and the FAYZ had killed off most of the belief anyone had had in a higher power.

Did hell still even exist?

"I don't know. The guy who was with him when it happened got blown up." It was strange, talking about how someone had died. Back in FAYZ if someone told you a kid had died you might ask how and get a one word answer if you were luckily.

"He had a burn of some sort on his shoulder." At least, she thought it was a burn, it was so crusted in puss and blisters it'd been hard to tell. "But I don't know what happened to his side."

More answers that didn't answer anything. His imagination took the images Diana was providing but it was like trying to create a digital camera picture using crayons.

"Oh." He answered again as if automatic. So someone else had died too, not just Howard.

And Diana had lived and Howard was dead and Orc was alone.

And...what? What else was there to say? To ask? To do? There was probably a dozen or so things to take care of but Orc couldn't name one right now. His shoulders sagged which seemed like a much more significant gesture at his size and he would have sat down if there was any room. But he was already in the way as it was.

Diana wasn't entirely sure what to say. There was no point asking if he was okay and she wasn't one for giving comfort.

There was a silence which prickled Diana uncomfortably, she hated being at a loss in a situation.

"So, what are you going to do now?"

Good question. It entered his head and buzzed around like a fly. He hated flies. They used to gather around him when he'd messed himself and he was too slow to swat them dead.

It took him so long to react she might have thought he hadn't heard her. But finally he turned to leave. Every subtle movement seemed so much bigger with his size.

"I dunno." was all he said as he shuffled away. Then a bit of jealousy crossed his mind. After all he had been the one who wanted to die, and Howard had done everything in his power to keep living.

Didn't people call that irony? Like the song. Yeah he had heard that song on the station his mom liked.

One thing was certain, the beer tree may be plucked clean by dawn if that's what it would take to keep Orc from having to think about this anymore.

Survivalist End [Open]

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