Billy Cranston (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
morphitudinous) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trans_92012-06-03 11:36 pm
morphitudinous) wrote in trans_92012-06-03 11:36 pm
The Time We Lost [open, post-rebellion]
Podded and popped again? Billy was less than enthusiastic, especially considering the circumstances. He'd been podded to hinder the engineers---of that, he was certain. He hadn't tried nearly hard enough to affirm his loyalty to the Daligig. Billy would really have to work on his ability to lie.
He'd shivered in the puddle of biostasis fluid, bogged down by worry and fear carried over from his last memory. What had happened, how long had he been gone? Weeks, months, years? Was there even a single familiar face still here?
At least one, his heart answered, though that little warmth in his chest couldn't tell him how he'd be received by her. He hoped there were more friends waiting. Resigning himself to the fact that he'd have to face them sooner or later (especially if she was telling people that he was awake---the last thing he wanted was anyone rushing down here to check), Billy rose to his feet and trode onward and upward.
Finally, he reached the traditional destination, the Observation Deck. As he gazed around at the strangely barren environment, that nagging sense of wrongness finally clicked in his mind. It felt wrong because it was empty. Where were the other popping crew members, where was the welcoming committee? A quick visual sweep across the room revealed no presence that caught his eye---was it his blind spot, were these new glasses not the right prescription strength? Or was everyone asleep, or...worse?
Billy knew by now that it was best to fight pre-emptive panic---his body needed the resources for when it was truly time to panic. He knew at least one person was alive. That was enough. So he settled on a small meat-chair, thinking of exactly what he'd say to the first person he saw. Where to begin? Apologies, questions...he had so many words in his head he worried he'd trip on them.
He'd shivered in the puddle of biostasis fluid, bogged down by worry and fear carried over from his last memory. What had happened, how long had he been gone? Weeks, months, years? Was there even a single familiar face still here?
At least one, his heart answered, though that little warmth in his chest couldn't tell him how he'd be received by her. He hoped there were more friends waiting. Resigning himself to the fact that he'd have to face them sooner or later (especially if she was telling people that he was awake---the last thing he wanted was anyone rushing down here to check), Billy rose to his feet and trode onward and upward.
Finally, he reached the traditional destination, the Observation Deck. As he gazed around at the strangely barren environment, that nagging sense of wrongness finally clicked in his mind. It felt wrong because it was empty. Where were the other popping crew members, where was the welcoming committee? A quick visual sweep across the room revealed no presence that caught his eye---was it his blind spot, were these new glasses not the right prescription strength? Or was everyone asleep, or...worse?
Billy knew by now that it was best to fight pre-emptive panic---his body needed the resources for when it was truly time to panic. He knew at least one person was alive. That was enough. So he settled on a small meat-chair, thinking of exactly what he'd say to the first person he saw. Where to begin? Apologies, questions...he had so many words in his head he worried he'd trip on them.
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Nimitz nudges Honor with his head.
Honor blinks. "Oh, and Nimitz wishes to know if you have any celery.
[So, speed demon: want to roleplay a mutual bit of weapons training later? Trying out the Sensoriums, being all amazed at the Clarkian Tech and such?]
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He gestures at the haori he's wearing - the one piece of his clothing he'd been able to find in the weapons and possessions storage, and as far as he's concerned, the only one worth worrying about. But bloodstains show up a little too well on light blue.
"Is there somewhere I can wash this?"
[yessss absolutely.]
Teh Cutest Icon
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if it's still okay! >.< I know I'm late.
Billy takes one look at Saito's clothing and nods. That will need some help. "There's a river in the city, on the fourth level. It's our only source of running water, but I installed a filtration system, so washing shouldn't be a problem."
Re: if it's still okay! >.< I know I'm late.
Honor blinks as if listening to something, then sighs.
"Alright, Stinker: we'll stop over there after this."
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"Thank you."