outer_divide | [Private Text: Various

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[Private Text: Various | Monday night]

[A few people get private texts tonight, not too late, but well after dark and moonrise.]

Kaidan:

If you aren't too busy or sleeping already, I would like to meet you at the ship tonight. I appear to have my full faculties inside the ship, but I don't want to be alone in case it wears off at any place or time in here.

Luke, Mulan, Tony, Indrani, Kerra, Shepard, and Sandman (though he's not sure he has Sandman's sent properly, given he's never spoken with him before):

Good evening. I'm back. Did any of us make it out alive, or should I be looking about here in the ship for the rest of us? Do we know what exactly happened in there? Is that thing destroyed?

[He's noticed the countdown is gone, but isn't sure whether he ought to connect it to their expedition or not.]

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[Can he really... can he see, then? He's still not sure, but he waves a little, anyhow.]

N O *eyes* A N Y? *mountain* = *pile of pebbles*

[Lyall waves, back, with a slightly bigger smile. Sandman is... kind of sweet-looking, really. He hadn't had the chance to think beyond "little golden man", in that mountain. Still, his voice is grim when he replies:]

Good. Those things were terrible. And I'm hearing from a few others, it looks like, so... even if we didn't all make it out, it appears we are at least coming back.

[Oh, wonderful! New friend. Sandy forgoes texting for the time being, since he's more comfortable with his usual mode of communication. He wiped his forehead in a pantomime of relief. Good.]

[He conjures a simplified sculpture of Salvation, then a question mark. They were coming back from the ship?]

[Lyall is puzzled for a moment-- he's never played any kind of picture game-- but he works it out after a moment-- he is, after all, also a werewolf and thus often trapped without verbal means of communication.]

Yes, from the ship. You're fairly new, aren't you? When we, er, die, we regenerate back here in our pods. Then we can come back out of them, afterwards, after a period of several days. It's a tad disconcerting, to be honest.

[Sandy nodded in agreement, though he looked a bit sad. They don't always come back out, after all. Jack hasn't, yet. Of course, that's rather too tricky a concept to even try to convey, so he doesn't bother.]

[He points to Lyall through the screen, then types something laboriously.]

H E L P ?

[If there's anything he can do... it's better than just floating around feeling helpless.]

Help....

[He pauses, frowns, then works it out:]

Help me? Oh, thank you, but I'm fine. Trapped here on the ship until sunrise, but fine. One of the many detriments to being a werewolf means the full moon turns me quite dangerous.

[Said a bit apologetically, and mostly because he doesn't think Sandman knows that yet, and it's best everyone be warned.]

[A wolf, the moon, and a question mark appear in rapid succession over Sandy's head. Why would Manny do anything to create danger? It doesn't make sense to him.]

[He looks truly befuddled, brow furrowed, the corners of his mouth pulling down. Yes, of course he knows about werewolves, but hasn't processed them as something real, given his close relationship with the Man in the Moon, who only serves to protect children, in his world.]

Yes, I am a werewolf, not just someone who changes into a wolf when he feels like it.

[He smiles gently, to show he doesn't mean anything rude by the clarification.]

The full moon is the only time I'm any trouble, though. Generally I lock myself up-- and here, I actually wear a power-nullifying collar for the duration and allow the Authorities to drug me. But I may simply decide to come here, in the future.

[He looks around, looking vaguely pleased.]

It is much more pleasant than almost any other method I've found.

[Werewolf. Well. That's... disconcerting. Not that he needs more proof that Manny isn't in this world, but it still feels wrong that the moon could cause something so distressing.]

[But his expression clears quickly. He's not the type to dwell on worries. A question mark appears over his head, and he gestures enthusiastically. After a moment of confused sand-symbols, he takes out his communicator and tries typing again.]

S H I P = N O P O W E R S 2 ?

Edited (html fail) 2014-01-26 03:13 (UTC)

[Yeah, Lyall would never have gotten that out of the symbols. So he's grateful for the typing, simple though it is.]

Yes, everyone on the ship becomes completely mortal and, dare I say it, human. Or as human as some of us become.

[Thinking of the obvious aliens, there.]

Otherwise, I would be running about as a wolf now, instead of holding a coherent conversation.

[The Sandman nods sagely. So it's not just him. How peculiar! He'd been worried that the ship cut him off from belief or something weird like that. If it happened to everyone... he probably wouldn't vanish if he stayed on the ship too long!]

[He figures giving a bit more information might help the little fellow.]

Captain Alenko assures me it's the ship's doing, now that the AI is functional and communicative again, and that everyone is being affected. I presume you've been on board and seen it first-hand?

[He can guess how disconcerting it must be-- especially if the little man's... dust... or whatever it is, isn't functional.]

[This time the nodding is more emphatic. He can't actually reproduce losing his powers at will, but the sand he's not wearing drops out of sight and Sandy looks around in mock distress. Very upsetting.]

[Lyall gets it, anyway, since already his mind had been going there.]

It must have been difficult to communicate-- if anyone there could see you.

[He pauses, considers whether being invisible is actually an "ability", then asks,]

Could people there see you?

[Sandman nods, then hesitates, looking confused. And shrugs. The one person he ran into could see him, but he'd kind of... assumed that she was a believer.]

M A Y B E ?

Intriguing possibility. I'd suggest testing it out, but, well.

[He looks sympathetic. He does understand how unnerving it is to be on there, with no abilities. He hates it, but puts up with it, himself.]

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[Private Text: Various | Monday night]

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