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[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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.]

[Dylan, meanwhile, thinks that if he's just a duplicate, then there's some other Dylan out there building the Commonwealth, fighting off the Magog, and captaining Andromeda. And if that's true, he doesn't know what he'd do. He feels the desire to set the universe right...but if he's a duplicate then some other Dylan already has that job. He'd be left with all the feelings of responsibility and no clear outlet.]

I'll start clearing away the brush and digging a pit.

I'll stay within sight. [Which is well advised, since the dinosaurs aren't the only large animals they should have to worry about.

He picks up an arm full of wood in relative silence, though. To the point that it's getting awkward, and he knows that it's getting awkward.] Shepherd seems assertive. [Just something offered conversationally.]

[Clearing an area of dead leaves and twigs is a quick job, but digging a fire pit is a little more time consuming, especially since Dylan doesn't have any real digging tools. So it's a sharp stick to break up the hard dirt and his hands to move it.]

Hm. She's very forceful. [Dylan likes her. She's hot.]

[Poor Dylan, scraping at the ground like a dog. It's almost a little- alright, Rhade shouldn't enjoy that. He acts like a good subordinate when he returns with the wood and stoops to help him clear the area.]

Kara is more casual but no less unyielding. [She's hot too.] She asked me about the chess set I was making.

[Dylan is used to survivalist scenarios taking away his dignity by now.]

She reminds me a little bit of Beka. Uh, Beka's one of my crew that I picked up in the future. She's a great pilot, too. [And a hot blonde, but friendzoned. Kara isn't friendzoned.] I'd like to see Kara fly. It sounds like she's really something.

What about Diziet Sma? You know her well? [The subtext of "what do you think about these hot ladies" is getting slowly less sub.]

Is she? [Why isn't Refractions of Dawn there? Oh yeah, the crew left.] Kara strikes me as the sort that could adjust to the slipstream quickly. [That's some hot, sexy hand eye she's got right there.]

I don't know her that well, but she's the type I wouldn't mind getting to know better. [He cocks his head.] The fog gave her allergies. [It was kind of cute.]

[Dylan grins at the ground.]

Yeah, I bet you wouldn't.

Allergies? That's a new one. She must be a pretty tough subspecies.

And what's that supposed to mean? [To the first part, anyway. Though it means just what Rhade meant. He still has an excuse to swipe at Dylan with a filthy hand.]

It means...whatever you think it means.

[His uniform is already pretty filthy from his trip, but the swipe cannot be ignored. He elbows back.]

Not that I blame you.

I think it means you're in a survivalist situation and the best part is everyone is just a little bit nicer looking. [He finds a larger piece of bark and offers it as a shovel, because they are the saddest two wilderness guys right now.]

[Dylan takes the bark and gives Gaheris an expression of "What the hell are you talking about" while he's at it.]

I didn't think dirt and limited changes of clothing usually made a person more attractive.

The situation makes you more apt to notice what is attractive about them, though. Your instincts say that you should breed to save your species, your body complies, you take notice.

[He raises a finger.] That's not to say that they're not attractive anyway. But it does mean that of all the misfortunes of the situation, we are fortunate enough to notice.

I kinda think I would have noticed anyway. [Have you seen these ladies, Gaheris? They are smokin!]

I don't need Darwinian survival of the species instincts to make me want to... [How to put this delicately] ...be intimate with a beautiful woman.

[He almost feels like he's being provoked with that second line, and he actually boggles a little bit at it.] You wouldn't even notice she was beautiful if there wasn't the human desire for procreation. Are you doing this on purpose?

[This is probably the most agreeable form of Nietzschean paranoia. It's not even hazardous. Just a little strange.]

That's not what I mean. I know that sex drives exist for procreation but...

[He almost rubs his hands over his face and remembers at the last second that his hands are covered in dirt and drops them again.]

I mean that you don't have to reduce everything to biology and survival. It takes some of the mystique out of it.

[He snorts at Dylan almost wiping his face with his hands, and makes a nice little wood pile.]

I don't require mystique to use my penis. I'm perfectly content in knowing why I want to.

[Dylan wipes his hands on his trouser legs, just in case that happens again and he doesn't catch himself next time.]

Okay then. [And now they're talking about their penises. How do these conversations happen?]

I kind of like a little romance to go with my...uh...penis using.

I'm romantic. I told you that we have love.

[He finally settles into a position where he's decently comfortable, and can light the fire with his force lance.]

I just don't think any of them are particularly interested in romance given the circumstances, and we would be lucky if they're interested in anything else. [He thinks for a moment.]

I think we're more likely candidates than Hudson.

Edited 2012-04-04 06:55 (UTC)

None of them strike me as the roses and candle-lit dinners type even if we weren't on a war-torn planet. But a little conversation beyond "hey, let's your genes and my genes get together" would be nice.

I think a lot of people are more likely candidates than Hudson. [Hudson's way with women seems about on par with Harper's.]

[He would be astounded to see that.] I could explain that too, but I'm sure you wouldn't want me to spoil the ending.

[But... now that he thinks about it, this is the first time he's had a conversation like this with Dylan without Sarah coming up. He supposes that he has to ask. It would be better than saying something out of ignorance later.]

What happened to your fiancee?

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