outer_divide | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[Private to Dylan | Audio]*

[Sent as soon as he returns, though he's not sure when Dylan will get it or what the range of the communicators is.]

I've returned. The Southern City didn't have many resources. The construction of the dome damaged its economy. I suspect most of the fishermen left are generational. The people there were notably friendlier to outsiders than the ones here, but of course their homes are at less risk from air raids from the domes.

[And sent a bit later.]

If you hear reports of fog, stay way until it's cleared. Or purchase the first gas mask you can manage.

[Private to Sma | Audio]

I want to speak with you. In person. [Where the conversation can't be recorded.]

*OOC: Slightly backdated to fog times.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm never going to not be able to think of him as that. We'll be lucky if I don't call him "rabbit" to his face. [She grinned, a joke.]

I agree, though. Even if we try to negotiate, we need to know more about what we're dealing with. I haven't gotten to talk to anyone who used to live in there—that would be a start.

There must be some here. I have yet to meet one. [But, while Rhade had decent social skills, he was also notably a foreigner.

And then he abruptly smiled, a charming, mischievous thing.] I don't think he'd know what to do if you did.

[Dylan nods in acknowledgement at the salute. It's nice seeing military discipline, but also a bit strange after a year and a half with a crew that very emphatically refuses to conform to anything resembling a military standard.]

Let's wait here until we're absolutely sure the fog is cleared out. I don't want to accidentally breath that stuff in. I might start singing Than courtship songs and then you'd be in trouble.

[Sad that it has to come with the face of someone who betrayed him.]

I don't know if I could resist your charms. [He raises a brow, quietly amused as he makes his way up the bank.]

Once you heard my singing you'd resist pretty fast.

I have heard your singing, Dylan. I don't know if you were in a state to remember...

[He makes it up to him and looks back toward the fog-covered city. Then just sits down, if they're going to wait a while. If it gets dark, they can light a fire.]

If it weren't for your Nietzschean metabolism, you'd probably be lucky enough to not remember, too.

[Dylan sits down as well, leans back against the trunk of a tree, and hopes they don't run into any large dinosaurs.]

I saw sea monsters in the lake. Not a good place for swimming.

Sea monsters.

[Well. That goes to figure. His brows raise lightly and folds his arms to rest on his knees.]

The children in the South wanted to see my boneblades. They were very excited to see outsiders. They weren't afraid at all.

[He sounds endeared, rather than ridiculing their lack of hesitance. To him they seemed very adventurous and brave.]

Next time we'll switch. You get sea monsters, I get happy children.

Only if there are mermaids.

I wasn't nearly so lucky. Mostly they looked like plesiosaurs.

Good to know that the environment can support megafauna.

[This is more comfortable than arguing. Especially with whatever weight Dylan carries now- the arguments have an edge to them that they didn't have before.]

I ran into Diziet. [He arranged a meeting with her.] Have you met, yet? Tall, rounded features, extra joint on all of her fingers?

I just hope we never run into the big cousins of those little dinosaurs you hunted.

Diziet. [He doesn't recognize the name, but he's seen a very pretty woman who fits the description Rhade gives.] I think I've seen her around, but we haven't spoken.

[That smile gets a bright, shiny one in return.]

I'm sure I could come up with a plausible explanation that didn't sound like an insult.

Edited (Damn you html) 2012-04-03 12:27 (UTC)

I didn't see any of the larger ones, but I'd hate to try to get that much meat to Edmund. [And he shifts to go sit by Dylan and lean his back against the tree.]

She's some variety of subspecies too. But not one of ours. [Which still baffles him.]

Oh, I'm sure you'd figure out a way. Can't let a little problem like two tons of dinosaur weight defeat you.

[Dylan tilts his head back and thinks of the people he's seen.]

If we've got people from alternate realities here, maybe she's from one where the subspecies developed differently.

It's funny, aside from the two AIs everyone looks human or human subspecies. No Thans or Perseids or Vedrans. Or Magog. [That last he's mostly grateful about although he misses Rev Bem.] I wonder if the ship was programmed with some sort of preference.

If it was set for a standard physiology, then perhaps. But we may be a small sampling.

[He picks up a piece of wood, thinking about starting to build a fire. He still doesn't want to give voice to the thought, but... there's no one else here he could really mention it to.]

I have vaguely considered the possibility we may be duplicates.

[And he can't think of much else to add to that.

Because if they are, does that mean that anything they've done or will do no longer matters? Is he actually a Nietzschean or a clone? Does that mean if they did find a way home, they'd just find themselves. And what would he do with himself?

He could still correct things, if what Dylan has told him is true.]

Well... [Dylan puffs out a breath.] ...that's a hell of a possibility. [Not impossible by any stretch but...if it were true, what would they do with themselves?]

Unless we stumble across some way of testing for it, we might as well work under the assumption that we're exactly who we think we are.

[He hums a response of agreement, but he idea really bothers him. Though he could very easily replace himself if sent back. Even go so far as to declare the original the duplicate and the traitor and take his place in his life.

He closes his eyes for a moment. When he did start hating himself that much? What a poor Nietzschean he's turning out to make.]

I'll go get us some kindling for a fire. [He gets up to do this.]

He doesn't seem like the sort of man that would take well to the fertility observation. [He squints slightly as he says it.]

Kind of prim, don't you think? [She laughs.] I don't do well with prim. The urge to twit them is way too strong.

Twit is a rather good way of putting it. [He sounds increasingly amused.] He also seems like the type that doesn't like to be questioned. When I wanted to double check the results on his collar investigation, he seemed hesitant and maybe even a little offended.

Nice. We'll see how long that attitude lasts here before someone yells at him. [She shakes her head.] Can't afford to be snotty about things, not under these circumstances.

[She remembers something she wanted to ask him.] Your captain. That's ... Dylan Hunt, am I right?

[She's been slightly off-grid over the last few weeks, but not so much that she's been completely ignorant of comings, goings, and names.]

Yes, he's a Heavy Gravity Worlder.

[Dylan may not identify as more than human, but Rhade definitely remembers exactly what he is at any given moment.]

How long have you been in his command?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 3 of 6

(no subject)

no subject

no subject

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

no subject

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

[Spam]

Rhade will never let Narvin alone ever. This is Narvin's lot in any game.

XD

And then I had to go upload more icons of smiling.

no subject

no subject

no subject