oasismods | JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME

JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME

"-̭̫̜̩̪̑̈́̓̌̐-̞͓̘̩͖̿́͒͑͘░͙͈̥̦̼̌̊̒̾̅░̨̢̠͙̖̉͊̽͌͝░̫͔͎̤̘̀̑͋͛̾ȩ̨̬̙͛̐̋̀̕͜m̻̬͈̠͒̌͌̍͌͜ ̡̲͈̙̼̽̾͆̊̃f̖̟͉̲̪̈́̾̀̂̀ą̢̯̘̙́̇͑̈̋i̪̱̙̘̟͌́̄̊͘ļ̢̛̲͕̣͐̎̿͛u͕̣̥̘̳̓̃͗͠͝r͉̠̗͖̰̉̅͗̚͘ę̛̺̥̝̘̄͑̌̈́.̣̫͕̰̭̓͂̈́̓͊ ̟̗͔̟͋̿̒̚̚ͅA̠̫̬̼̣̒̇͛́̊l̫̬͎̤͈͑̀͂̐̆ë̡̧̝̺͖́̍̂͂͝r͙͍̱̫͕̆͊̾͐̕ţ͙̻̣̝͒́̄̈́͆!͕̫͓͉̹̌̍̽̂̓ ̧̛̲͎͖̳̌̆̾̏░͖̲̞̼̹̇̄̌̈́̊░̡͍͎͍̘̇̈́̕͝░̪͚̼̦̃̋͊̆͜͠è̛̞̬͙̠̖̊͌̂m͖̝̟̗̣̽̄̐̚͠ ̛̹̯͈̮̼̈́͊͌͠f̧̰̖͋̊̈̊̑͜͜ą̨͚͎̹̀̎̑͋́i̞̬͓̭̳̎́̓͘͠l̢͈̲͇͕̈́̆̐̌̈́ư̰̞͚̻̺̔͑̓̑ṛ͎̯͚̇̔̾̔̏͜ę̛̻̼̭͊͆̕͜͝.̯̖̫̣͔̔̋̔̽͠ ̺̼̟̲͌́͒̔̅ͅĄ̹̝̖̺̂̇̽̒͊ĺ̛̺̰̰̤͎̾͗͝e̛̗̭̻͕̹̓̔͆̆r̢̛͙͖̘̻̈̚̚͘t̰̲̠̖̻̉͂̆̓̇!̬̞̟͉̺̂͆̊͑͐"

You awaken to godawful static overlaying a female voice that's too monotone to be anything but a recording. The static makes it difficult to understand the warning, but it's clearly a warning if your surroundings tell you anything...

You're buckled into a sturdy seat bolted to the wall behind you. Around you, there are dozens of others like you, some awake and others still unconscious, but it seems most of the seats lining the walls are occupied. The lights are dim, likely auxiliary lighting, leaving you mostly in the dark. You smell smoke and hear the sizzling crackle of electrical systems popping and shorting out. Some of the seats were jarred off the wall, leaving the occupants either wounded or dead. Count yourself lucky all you have is a headache and various aches accounted to whiplash.

You appear to be in a drop ship or an escape vessel of some form but the pilot is dead and the hull bears a massive gash where it buckled under the impact and sheered off. Through the door-sized opening, you can see vegetation. The air that wafts in is heavy with a humid heat, but it's obviously breathable.

Once you make your way outside, you'll see greenery: Trees, grass, and shrubs tangled with vines that grow wildly and suffocate the trees they climb. In the distance, behind the ship, you can make out a sandy desert that seems to stretch on endlessly. Forward through the trees, however, you may see a crumbling wall, but more importantly, you'll see signs of civilisation. Buildings and other structures seem contained within those decrepit walls. Maybe the natives can fill you in on what's going on, because the last thing you remember isn't being in an escape shuttle. As a matter of fact, you don't remember much about your arrival or where you are. But it's going to be a bit of a hike, better get moving. Though you might want to grab the backpack of supplies under your seat before you go.

"W̞͓̝͓̓̀̍̒͘͜ȃ̢̗̪̤͇̔̃̚͝░̟͙̯̳̱̈͂̈́̈́͠n̬̘̬̤̠͛̅̈́͋͝i͓̟͈͎͙̐̆̈́̔̓n̡̟̤̟̤̑͐͋͐̚g̩̱͖͉̻͌͛̈͆̈́!̧̪̰͇̦̓̂̆̌͝ ̢͔̣̠̗̾̉́̌̒C̢̥̟͍͊͊͑̀̚ͅr̛͙̪̙̟͐̽̓̅͜i̫͖̻̣̘̽̑͂̾̎t̩͇̦̬̞͊̌̑̈́͝i̡̳̠̞̐̿̍̎̀͜c̡͕͙͕͕̓̊̌̾͘å̼̯͍̙̲̍̏̚͝l̢̥͉̮̙̋̆͐̆́ ̢̰̞͕̯̋̈́̈́̋͌f͇͔̟̻̈̽͌̒̉ͅa̳̰̠͉͔͒̑̈̈͘i̟̭̦̺͎̍̾̽̈́̐░͕̣̥̭͛̿̓̽̐ͅ░̰̪̠͇͍̆͛̀͝͝░̘̱̩̳̘͆̈́̆̀̚e̛̻͈̳̳̺̊̔̚̕.͙̟̳̼̾̀̅͊͊ͅ"

With that, the power dies, leaving the drop ship in the dark, crackling and groaning as the hull cools from its catastrophic re-entry.

[MOD NOTES: TDM threads may be used as game canon.]

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[ It certainly doesn't seem like the crash was planned. Or, well, maybe it was but whoever was piloting hadn't been aware of that. It's hard to say. Simple re-entry gone wrong or sabotage? She wants to believe it's the former, but unfortunately has seen enough bad that sometimes it overpowers the hopefulness. ]

That's considerate of 'em, at least. [ Rose yanks her pack out from the under the seat and immediately throws it over her own shoulder without bothering to check it. She will, in due time, but right now she's more concerned with getting answers to the gazillion questions swimming in her head. Getting out of this ship might be ideal though, too. Among the blood is the acrid smell of smoke and the quiet occasional groans of the hull can't be good either. ]

Makes me wonder what they did mean for us, [ she mutters as an aside to herself. ] Good to know I'm not alone in the what the fuckery though. I was starting to worry I'd just conked my noggin too hard on something.

[ maybe it'd been stupid to ask, to hope, but the thought would've been incessantly circling around in his head until he tried it. he knows, the second newt's hesitating, when he watches his lips thin, that it's the same for him. chuck's gone. no matter the reality or story or whatever the hell this is, chuck doesn't get to live it. and maybe that's better - that he didn't have to see what the world looked like outside. maybe he died thinking they were really going home.

but that seems like an empty rationalization. if chuck had a choice, he'd want to live. thomas knows that, and he knows what happened to him wasn't any kind of mercy. he was a tool, and directly after it falls from newt's lips "he moved in the way, he saved your life, he did", thomas snaps to add on. ]

WICKED moved him. The knife was never meant to hit me.

[ there's vitriol and anger and, deeper down, guilt. it also isn't lost on him that newt said "shoot". but either way, even with the uncertainty and the suspicion, newt's hand on his shoulder is a comforting weight, and he lifts his chin enough to flash him a tight, sad half-smile. ] Was worth hoping for, at least. Sorry.

Thanks. Not a big squirrel fan anyway.

[ not that the squirrels would offer a whole lot in the way of food anyway. they'd want to go for deer, or, the carnivorous things. fun as that will be. but that isn't the biggest concern at the moment - not now.

now, it's this thing about walkers. cranks, if they're talking about the same thing, and that's a bigger threat than anything else, especially if they're close to a large group. and usually, it is a large group. the Flare always spreads. thomas likely looks something between turning a sickly, anxious kind of pale and just angry with himself. frustrated. he'd hoped, with the vegetation and how temperate things are here, it was at least somewhere close to the safe haven he'd seen through the Flat Trans, but he should know better by now.

nothing's ever safe anymore. not really. ]

Cranks are still people. They won't need noise to find us. [ they're insane, ravenous, and seem more dead than alive anymore, but they still think. make plans, scheme, build traps. discarding the half dismantled flashlight, thomas stands, starting to peer around - at the ruins, and then up, towards the trees. a camp on the ground makes them sitting ducks. they need to be hidden. ] Shit.

Are you Immune?

[ It's hard not to look skeptical at that warning, but she won't discount it as mad rambling just yet. ]

Have you seen this? Here?

[ Books wouldn't help her if Pandora is some distant backwater, though. At least, that's what Gamora's assuming for now. ]

But for how long? [ Tired of crouching, she'll finally rise, stretching out once she's up before settling her arms, folded, across her chest. ] I know it would be cruel to leave them to their fate, but you don't move fast with a crowd.

[ Let her have her jokes. They're funny to her. ]

Of course. I'll be sure to ignore any cries for help you may give later on down the line.

[ Hey, hey now, just because Gamora is green doesn't mean she knows every green thing! ]

No. This would be the first I've heard that name. Should I have heard of them?

[Alex laughs weakly.] I've found that they seldom do... equal opportunity hazards.

[He's uncertain how bad his forehead must look, but it feels like it's no longer bleeding; which is a plus. The downside is that head wounds bleed like hell so Alex is fairly certain he looks rather like bell himself; he was already a pretty fair of skin and his hair was a ridiculously pale white blond, so he probably looked like death warmed over.]

Honest, I'm not trying to make it out as nothing, but I'm lycanthrope and I heal fast. It's more a mess than anything, I think...

[When Newt offers him a hand up, Alex grabs it securely and let's the other boy help him to his feet. Pulling his backpack over one shoulder, he casts a quick look around the wreck of a shuttle before focusing on getting the hell out of it.

He'll keeps his attention equally split between their path and Newt himself, ready to grab for him if he needs it.]

You are not from my galaxy, then. I was curious, nothing else.

[ drily, ] You're not getting my things, kid. [ he was your age, he knows what you're thinking.

after a minute of fiddling with screws and carefully untangling wires, several of them blackened and fried, he uncovers what he was looking for. ]

Here. Shine the light there. See that? [ it looks like just another component of the ship albeit in a slightly different color. ] That's the main part of the communications system. A couple of new parts, it'll be up and running again.

[ there are some bets even he won't take. besides, it's not like he wasn't going to do this himself from the start. ]

I hear you. Keep the light here.

[ crouching, he begins fiddling with the panel they revealed. luckily for him, most of the power's dead, but he still takes care with the electrical conduits. after a close examination, he exhales a little "huh." ]

Looks like we might be in luck. Comms aren't completely wrecked.

What kinda shuck question is that? [ That seems to touch a nerve, not liking that question. ] We were in the mountains and Teresa sold us out to Ava Paige - they took Minho. [ His fingers curl into a fist around the pills, giving Tommy an agitated look he moves to let them fall back into the bottle. ] You decided you were gonna kill Ava Paige and get Minho back. [ He's not a fan of seeing his friends in pain, and while it's probably a good idea to save them, he'd rather share them if it'd help. Sure, the idea of taking pills from a stranger isn't the best one, but it's all or nothing, he has to trust that what whoever these mysterious strangers are if they wanted them dead, they'd be dead. The supplies could be poisoned, but Newt isn't going to think about that.

He twists the cap until the child lock clicks a few times, annoyance obvious as he unzips the backpack further to shove the pills back in and root around in it a little more. He's mad, that's for certain, Thomas seems to know what's going on, or at least more than him, they both hurt, Minho is still out there, and now this.

But at least he gets an answer from Tommy, a pitiful explanation but, still one. He's about to ask another question when Thomas pulls his pulls his jacket off, to turn and - ] Shit -- come sit down. [ Newt pats the ground next to him before moving to look back into the backpack, trying to find anything to help him. ] When did you see him again? Did he do that? [ Sure he'd normally recognise a griever wound, but it's hard to tell when it's that bloody and gross. ] That's going to get infected, we need to do something about it. [ Shit, and he doesn't know exactly what to do about it. His hands falter in the backpack, freezing for a moment. ]

Ya seem to remember a lot more than me [ He falls silent for a beat, before wetting his lips. ] why is that? [ It doesn't sound like an accusation, not yet anyway, more like he's still trying to piece together what's going on.

He seems to realise that he's been distracted from his efforts to help with the injury, so he goes back to it, turning from his friend to rifle through the pockets of his backpack - and oh, that's certainly a knife in the outermost pocket, he'll deal with that later... His attention turns to the other backpack, unzipping it and shoving things around inside it. When he lets out a sigh, it's because of the small first aid kit he finds in Thomas's backpack. ] Looks like you're in some sorta luck. [ He pops the small plastic case open, and okay, the tiny amount of gauze in the roll probably isn't going to be enough, and the bandaids are laughable, but the packets of alcohol wipes and the medical tape might help. ]

Let's see your back, can I try to get that off? [ He means the shirt, which he knows isn't going to be that fun, probably. He's not a med-jack, this isn't his forte, but he'll blunder through helping, for Tommy. ]

[ He gets it, why the brunet had to ask.

However, that response causes Newt's brow to furrow in confusion, and something chilling and sickening works its way through his stomach to make it churn and wraps around his heart, making it pound a little faster. ] What do you mean they "moved him?" [ Who even knows what he means by that, after finding out what kind of sick things they've been up to, Newt isn't sure what to think. ]

Tommy, he moved in the way, no one was around to push him, other than us, and you know we wouldn't do that. And what do you mean knife? [ They've come to the conclusion that there were various differences between their memories at least, it seems like another sick game, and the way Tommy looks at him, makes him feel like he's losing his mind. It scares him a little, not sure which one of them is actually wrong, or if Tommy's even telling the truth. No, he can't talk like that, fears like that destroy people, and while the other is scaring him to some extent with how different he's behaving, he knows for certain that he wants to trust him.

The topic at hand inspires a thought. As if to prove it, more to himself than anything, his hand slides from the other Glader's shoulder, moving to unfasten the knife sheath from his belt loop, at first it may seem a little sketchy, him turning his attention to the knife in such close proximity, but then he holds it out to Thomas, still in its sheath, handle towards him. They've gotta trust each other. ] You plan on hunting, this will probably help. [ It's not giving up, it's having hope. ]

Psht, water! It's not like you need that for living or anything.

[ That can also be translated to, yes, thank you, she won't forget water. ]

My name's Rose, by the way. Figure we might as well get the formalities out of the way since it looks like everyone's gonna' have a lot more to worry about soon.

[ Rose is one of the coherent that aids in getting people off the hunk of junk. The smell of acrid smoke along with the sounds of wires hissing sparks and the hull of the ship groaning in an unsettling way definitely kind of sped things up as well, she's sure. She's lucky, she realizes, to be as alright as she is. Some people have serious injuries. Some people are... Well, she'd rather not think about the ones that didn't make it. The focus is, instead, on making sure everyone is safe.

It takes a lot though to step up and be the one to organize something like that, however, and Rose appreciates it. Not many people would have. She wouldn't have, even for as guilty as it makes her feel. That's what a 'me or them' deep-rooted mentality will do to a person in times of crisis though she supposes. ]

Hey, uh. Thanks. For, y'know, helping and getting other people to help. That was awesome. [ And she genuinely means that. ] Are... you alright though? [ She doesn't just mean physically, naturally. They've all got their own aches and pains - Rose herself is sporting a rather nice gash on her temple the looks a lot worse than it actually is, really - but it's the psychological stuff, the amnesia, that's getting to her more than anything. She hates not remembering. It wasn't a good thing before, she doubts it's a good thing now. ]

[ So you totally can't fault him for thinking it.

Newt does as he's instructed, shining the light where he's asked, and squints. ] Where are ya gonna get the "new parts?" [ He doesn't really see a new parts shop around anywhere. He's surprisingly calm for someone who is a little too curious as to why this guy knows what he's doing to a ship that supposedly isn't his. Communications system, he thinks of WCKD for a moment, wondering if this is how they communicated with each other during the trials, during other maze trials with other groups.

It makes him feel a little ill to think about being a statistic that was possibly shared through communications like he wasn't a person. ] And how do you know all this?

'Hungry and moving.' Just like those shows and movies back home that are all supposed to be in the realm of fantasy. Something that can't actually touch them, something that was so distant. Was that his actual life? Rose can't fathom it. Well, at least, not from a human perspective at any rate. The Makai was a kill or be killed world, but that was just. Normal. For her kind it was normal, anyway. The dead walking in the Ningenkai though? That wasn't.

She isn't sure what to say to that - is there anything she can say? - but he kind of resolved that for her with his dismissal. "Oh, uh, right - You're right." There were people injured, supplies to gather, things to do. She... wasn't actually planning on helping anyone (would probably just get in the way, she thought) but she can try and figure out something even she can't screw up. Probably. Exploring didn't seem like a bad idea. That was a solo sort of thing but she could report back her findings, at least. Yeah. Yeah, she'll do that.

"My name's Rose, by the way. If you need any help with anything, let me know! And, uh, thanks. For doing... this." Vague awkward gesture to the people with holes through their heads "We got enough to worry about, so. Making sure even more bad stuff doesn't get sprung on everyone is pretty nice of you." Even if he might have been doing it initially only out of self-preservation, it still would benefit everyone regardless.

"That's, uh. All. I'm gonna'. Go now."

Smooth as sandpaper, this one.

Ava Pai-- We've never even seen Ava Paige, and Teresa-- [ is dead. pushed him out of the way to save his life when he's the last of all of them to deserve it, and her dying words were about caring for him. as much as he could hear, at least. they'd left her there, in the rubble, like he'd left newt in Denver, and left Chuck on the floor of the lab outside the Maze. but teresa, that's still fresh. not even an hour ago. not even twenty minutes ago. he feels his throat seize up, his chest feeling like it's caving in, and his eyes sting. it's honestly a good thing he has his back turned away from newt, because his features contort in a painful way, trying to crush all of that down. not the time. not now, not when they're still in the shit, and he's not even sure who or what he's actually talking to. as much as he hates thinking about newt that way. ]

What d'you mean, 'took Minho'? Who did? Took him where?

[ maybe it's the other way. maybe newt knows more than him. maybe something happened when they got to the safe haven, and it's his memory that's all shucked now. it wouldn't be the first time. he's still rolling it around in his head as newt motions him to sit, finding a log to settle down, back to his friend. when did he see him again? well. ] I went back to the compound. Told Rat Man I'd go along with his crap to finish the blueprint. Turns out that mean carving my shuck brain out of my skull. [ hahhhaha yeah that was fun. anyway. ] Minho, Teresa, Fry and the kids from Group B went in with the Right Arm when WICKED was taking in a bunch of Munies. And wouldn't you freakin' know it, Vince decided he cared more about his shuck revenge than saving the 500 Immune he sent in as decoys. Slinthead. That's from a Griever that woke up while we were trying to get out.

[ thomas snorts, nodding, before he starts to peel at his shirt to carefully take it off. ] Ava Paige saved me from getting carved up like a pumpkin and left me some maps to get the Immune to a Flat Trans that'd take us to an actual haven. I saw it, Newt. It was like nothing ever went wrong. Just trees and mountains and ocean for miles. [ it was beautiful. if only it had been true. ] Anyway, Vince started setting off explosions like a whacker, the rest of us lead the rest of the Immune to the Flat Trans, ran into Jansen right before everyone got through, and there was a fight.

[ he pauses, mind still reeling through all that happened, and there's definitely some key details left out, but-- ] I killed him. [ that's the important part. ]

Dunno if that's more. Definitely 'different'.

[ by now, he's aware of the differences, whether they're real of just a ploy, and while it's interesting that Newt doesn't know about the chips and what all they do (and concerning, even if he's still half convinced this is a trick), it isn't hugely surprising anymore. ] The chips in our heads. The ones that activate the Swipe. They can get into our heads too. Monitor, mostly, but make us do stuff.

[ which is really the worst part. no knowing if they could flip a switch and have him start strangling his best friend. hell, he'd nearly killed minho just when the killswitch activated to keep them from removing it. that'd been terrifying - being inside his head and helpless to stop himself from hurting his friend. but it's gone now, at least. ]

They made Gally throw the knife, made Chuck dive in front of it. It was a knife for use, not a gun. [ made teresa kiss him. he's not going into that one. ] Not that I don't think Chuck wanted to save me, but... They didn't really give him a choice. Just another shuck Variable.

[ all he was to them. all any of them have been. it makes him sick to his stomach, thomas's lips curling for a moment, before he notices newt rummaging at his side. for a brief moment, he sees him grab the knife, and it's an odd feeling - like he should be alarmed, on guard, but he just... isn't. it's newt. he can't look at him and think ill of him. maybe that makes him the perfect choice for this sort of thing, but how many times has trying to figure out what WICKED's doing just made it all that much worse? what do they always expect him to do? fight it. and that's what he's always done.

but newt? as he's putting the knife into his hand, an obvious statement of trust, despite the unspoken suspicion between them, thomas looks from it, up to his friend, and it's just such a newt thing to do. could they know him that well, to fake that much? maybe. but he's tired of suspecting his friend. being pulled between the want to explode with relief to see him alive and whole, and the constant restraint and fear that it's a lie. a small smile touches his lips, and his hand wraps over the handle, tucking the knife close to his chest. ] Thanks, Newt. I'm sorry. I wish I had a better answer for all this klunk.

[ Newt can't say anything, he can't get his mouth to do anything other than hang open as he stares at Thomas's back. ] Back at the compound, you said you saw her alive. That's the whole reason we ran out into the bloody desert! [ Sorry, is his voice raising a little bit? He's only completely freaked out that Thomas was 100% sure he saw Ava Paige and now he's saying he's never seen her before?

He's going to be sick. No, he needs to breathe, and he does, he sucks in a shuddering breath trying to calm all of his screaming thoughts. ] She was there, Tommy. Ava Paige, you two spoke.

They did, Wicked did. Teresa told them how to find us and they shot him with one of those -- gun things and dragged him away onto a - [ What would that even be called? ] I don't know where they took him. The compound? To hook him up like the others you saw. To harvest the cure in his blood.

[ A beat. This is too much information all at once, he's trying to process it and compare it to what he knows, but it's just making him feel like everything he knows is a lie or worse... ] Vince betrayed us? [ The words are spoken slowly like he's tying to wrap his head around it.

He knows he should close the distance between them and try to clean up his wound but he feels even more air leave his lungs as he watches the skin revealed as Thomas pulls his shirt up. It feels like the air will never come back to his lung and he can't help but just stare. Newt's eyes move from scar to scar to scar to the tattoo... He's stronger than a panic attack, he keeps repeat that thought as he feels his chest getting tighter with fear and confusion. The first aid kit falls to the ground in front of him with a small rattle, luckily nothing bouncing out of it.

The one thing he's been using to keep himself from freaking out over the whole situation was the familiarity of Thomas and that rug is getting yanked out from underneath him. ]

Where did you get all those scars - and what is that on your neck? [ There is the slight hint of fear creeping into his tone, worried this is another of their tricks.

What does he do? Part of him wants to put as much distance between them as possible. The other part of him - the stronger part - wants to help him with his injury. Before he even realises what he's doing, he's moved to pick up the kit again, staying where he is though. ]

[ There's a long moment where Newt simply watches him, wishing nothing more than to be able to know what he's thinking. ] The more ya keep talking about what happened to you the more I feel like I'm jacked in the head. [ It's a terrifying feeling, and it's quick to bring darker thoughts to his mind, ones that he tries to push away. There's no way he's gone bonkers, right?

The thoughts make him even more sure that giving Thomas the knife was the right choice, maybe it was safer for both of them with him. ] You can't always have the answers to everything. This is probably another one of their tests. [ He's fairly certain however, that he wants off this ride - he's so tired of being a lab rat for a bunch of assholes. ] They can make us do stuff? Get into our heads? [ The thought makes him feel utterly violated to his core.

For all he's learning, he really wishes Thomas would just stop talking but morbid curiosity keeps him from voicing that - or maybe it's WCKD keeping him from voicing it? Already he's trying to reassess everything he's ever done before, decide if it was him or not. If they could control him and make him do things... He wonders about Alby, and about climbing that ivy, about everything he'd done.

God, he needs to sit, or walk, or. He needs air, even though he's surrounded by it. He'd been so adamant about getting information that now that he has it he's not sure it was a good idea to ask for it. He's moving without really thinking about it, stepping away and past Thomas, not really sure where he's going, just. Pulling himself away from this for a moment. He's not trying to escape from Tommy as much as find a comfortable place to sit down, give his leg a break, drink some water. The teenager just needs a moment to think without more information being dumped on him.

What he doesn't expect is for one of the bushes he passes to rustle far too animatedly and then something to reach out and snag onto his ankle, sending him to the ground with a loud "oomph." When he sees what's got him, he lets out a worried cry of "oh" and tries to yank his ankle free from the death grip on it. Unfortunately for him, the thing that once resembled a human is using the grip to pull itself towards him, mouth hanging open like it's planning on making him a main course.

Its skin was far too pale and painted with thick dark veins and what looked like healing injuries. Its lips seemed to have been worn away, causing an unending stream of saliva to pour down its face and give Newt too much of a view of its teeth.

Fear wells up in him as he kicks at it with his free foot, boot hitting the thing's face but seeming to do nothing other than give it something else to grab onto to pull itself towards him. It's emaciated, but far stronger than Newt thinks it should be, maybe it's because it's not reacting to pain, kicking it in the face should have done something. Bloodshot eyes stay on him and do nothing to stop him from trying to squirm backwards and away.

Already, he's looking for a rock or something to attack it with, but before he can even try that course of action, it lunges forward with a surprising jolt of energy, like it's fully awakened from whatever cat nap it was taking and is on top of Newt before he can do anything other than shove an arm up to keep it from leaning down and biting into him.

No, no, no. He saw what happened to Winston. The drool that dribbles down from it onto the front of his already disgusting shirt makes his fear shift into complete terror. Why wouldn't there be cranks around? ]

[ Tris reaches for him without thinking, pulling herself up - leaving a bloody handprint on his sleeve, too, but what's one more among the stains already on there? She still lets go as soon as she's standing, shaking her head one more time and willing the dizziness away. It doesn't go anywhere. ]

Thanks. [ No time to pause though. She nods, starts moving, reaching for the backpack he pulled up. He's got one, and it seems like that one should be hers, right? ] You're right.

[ --stops, looking over her shoulder. ] What about the others?

[ Some of them are dead, she can tell this much even at a glance. But not everyone, surely. ]

My working theories so far are one: all of us had a seriously wild night last night, or two: some Star Trek level shenanigans.

[ Shorn wires pop somewhere in the fuselage, sending out a shower of sparks, and Peter figures that's as good a sign as any. He nods toward the hull's breach acting as their exit. ]

C'mon. We'd better get outta here before something gives out.

[ -- oh shit.

How do you miss a guy as big as that?

Peter freezes for half of a second when he spots Groot -- maybe he'd hit his head on reentry, and his mind was playing tricks on him? But the half-second comes and goes, and Groot doesn't disappear.

Which is a goddamn relief, because that means he doesn't have to deal with this bullshit on his own. And it's also a good thing, because the second half of that second sees him dashing toward Groot. ]

Hey, big guy, take it easy.

[ He stands in front of him, crouching a little to check Groot for damage -- broken or missing limbs, cracked vines, whatever. Sure, he knows now that the guy can grow back practically everything, but Peter's gotta imagine that shit still hurts. ]

You alright, man?

[ He pauses before wrinkling his nose. ]

Now I know you're messin' with me. I know how much you like to impress me by being a badass.

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