That's all Minho can think about as he unbuckles himself from his seat and drops down to his feet. Sirens bodies smoke blood warnings sparks green. He sees it, like a wound in the flesh of this world opening onto another. He takes a step closer and, as if on cue, the chaos cuts out and he's left in relatively stifling darkness and silence. Swearing, he closes his eyes, lets them adjust, and then looks around for... anything. He notices the backpack beneath his seat and grabs it before eyeing the pack beneath the seat of the corpse next to him. He'll be taking that, too, since it's not doing that sorry shank any good. No one else is hanging around to fight over supplies, either, and Minho hopes he isn't far behind everyone else.
Back to the green, so much green that he hesitates to step out into it. The Glade had been green, but not like this. He'd always thought that Glade was an oasis, but this makes it look like a stunted desert in comparison. It's beautiful, and unfamiliar, and probably deadly since WICKED is behind it. They have to be; they're behind everything. But it's better than the Scorch and, he hates to admit, seems better than anything they'd come up against since leaving the Maze.
He steps out and looks around him, unsure where to go or how he even got here. He hadn't recognized any of the bodies in the ship, but he hadn't had much of a chance to really look. Newt. Thomas. Did they survive? Was this another mind game? Glancing at his feet, he sees a long, thin piece of metal that must have come away from the ship. He grabs it and stuffs it down the side of one backpack for later, feeling better for having a makeshift weapon.]
This is jacked. I hate feeling like a damned Greenie.
[The worst part is being alone, something that hasn't happened in years. If he was more self-aware, he'd reflect on how co-dependent that was of him. But he's not, so instead he puts one pack on his back and holds the other in his hand as he starts jogging in the direction of that big dammed wall. This place is getting more and more familiar with every step.]
Minho | The Maze Runner
That's all Minho can think about as he unbuckles himself from his seat and drops down to his feet. Sirens bodies smoke blood warnings sparks green. He sees it, like a wound in the flesh of this world opening onto another. He takes a step closer and, as if on cue, the chaos cuts out and he's left in relatively stifling darkness and silence. Swearing, he closes his eyes, lets them adjust, and then looks around for... anything. He notices the backpack beneath his seat and grabs it before eyeing the pack beneath the seat of the corpse next to him. He'll be taking that, too, since it's not doing that sorry shank any good. No one else is hanging around to fight over supplies, either, and Minho hopes he isn't far behind everyone else.
Back to the green, so much green that he hesitates to step out into it. The Glade had been green, but not like this. He'd always thought that Glade was an oasis, but this makes it look like a stunted desert in comparison. It's beautiful, and unfamiliar, and probably deadly since WICKED is behind it. They have to be; they're behind everything. But it's better than the Scorch and, he hates to admit, seems better than anything they'd come up against since leaving the Maze.
He steps out and looks around him, unsure where to go or how he even got here. He hadn't recognized any of the bodies in the ship, but he hadn't had much of a chance to really look. Newt. Thomas. Did they survive? Was this another mind game? Glancing at his feet, he sees a long, thin piece of metal that must have come away from the ship. He grabs it and stuffs it down the side of one backpack for later, feeling better for having a makeshift weapon.]
This is jacked. I hate feeling like a damned Greenie.
[The worst part is being alone, something that hasn't happened in years. If he was more self-aware, he'd reflect on how co-dependent that was of him. But he's not, so instead he puts one pack on his back and holds the other in his hand as he starts jogging in the direction of that big dammed wall. This place is getting more and more familiar with every step.]