[open]

[livestoannoy]

This was so not turning out to be a good day.

Okay, so they were stuck. In some random part of the ship that he'd never seen before, and they couldn't go back. And just to make it all better, none of their omnicomms or communication rings were working.

Which was why Marco was now sitting at the tables in the new mess hall, fiddling around with his omnicomm in an attempt to get the stupid thing to actually work. He was guessing it was some kind of hardware thing, which sucked, because Marco was better at messing with software than hardware.

Why the hell wasn't Ax here? He at least would know how to fix the damn thing. Ax could fix anything.

And as if to prove Marco's point, while he was poking at one of the wires the omnicomm sparked, causing Marco to let loose a flurry of curses.

Comments

[windwitch]

Maxine was idly exploring (and trying not to be too scared of any and all implications) when she heard the cursing. She hadn't run into many people in this part of the ship yet, but that was a voice she hadn't met yet. And she didn't know what this place held, so-- what if there was something dangerous?

After she literally flew into the mess hall, the relief was palpable.

"Are you okay?" she said, after a moment, landing and walking over to the teenage boy. She was also, admittedly, curious in what he was doing.

[first_in_time]

Barbara had found the mess hall after being lead there by Sakura, who found her wandering. For the moment, she had no intentions of leaving the mess hall and, seeing someone working at one of the tables, she thought she might be of some use.

"Is there anything I could do to help?" she asked politely, hands knotted behind her back as she bent slightly, so that she didn't tower over the young man.

[encourage]

Dripping wet, Sakura walked with as much aplomb as a cold, saltwater soaked ninja could manage when thoroughly irritated with themselves. Add on an extra side of tired, and the most enthusiasm for speaking she could come up with right now cumulated into a short phrase. "Marco, I could use your help."

Let's take stock of the situation. She was down to just her plantsuit. She looked like she'd gone swimming or had a pool dumped over her head. She smelled like the sea, in a less rotting-seaweed-on-the-beach way, and a more hard-to-define-but-noticeable way. The circles she had under her eyes before, but that passed off as acceptable, look more like smears of charcoal. There was a pale, clammy cast to her skin, like she wasn't quite warming up right.

Or maybe that was just Stacy's wonderful interior lighting.