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JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME
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.
With that, the power dies, leaving the drop ship in the dark, crackling and groaning as the hull cools from its catastrophic re-entry.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
The reason we were in the Scorch was because WICKED was gonna slaughter us if we didn’t. Not that it really saved us much. [ winston, jack. they went in with about 19, and came out with less than 10. ] How can you not remember that? The Underground? The lightning storms? Those things in the tunnel?
[ thomas couldn’t sear them from his mind if he tried, and oh, he has. Winston’s screaming, the sight of Jack blown to pieces, still alive. it makes his stomach turn thinking about it, and for a moment he looks like he might need to throw up, before he takes a couple of deep breathes. pausing, his eyes slipped closed, he tries to center himself, calm his head, pay attention to everything Newt’s telling him. Ava Paige alive. He talked to her. The went into the desert on their own.
Teresa-- told them? What? At that, his head snaps back up, looking Newt over with something that’s practically wounded. His mouth opens, ready to dispute that, and then the single word that’d been the source of all of this horror comes up. cure.
wounded starts to look a lot like angry. ]
There is no cure. There never was and there’s never going to be, and they’ll kill all of us trying to find it. [ his voice is surprisingly even, low, with something of desolation in it. if there had been a cure, and thomas had left it, and let what happened to newt come to pass, he wouldn’t be able to keep putting one foot in front of the other. ] That’s what Ava Paige knew. The only time I’ve ever heard anything from her was the notes she left after she stopped the operation. And a map to the Flat Trans that’d take us to a safe place.
[ it was there, he saw it. he’s breathed in the clean air and felt warmth on his cheeks. god, it was so close. it’s as he’s lost, thinking about safe haven, that newt brings up the tattoo, and thomas’s eyes go wide, staying still long enough, in shocked silence, for Newt to probably look over his tattoo. that was one of the first things they found, after the maze. newt shouldn’t even know anything about the scorch or the flare or ava paige if he hadn’t seen the tattoos yet. with a snapped, jerked movement, thomas reaches out, gripping Newt’s shirt and pulling him forward to yank down the back collar of his shirt. nothing. ]
...You’re supposed to have one. We all had one. [ so this isn’t the same body. it can’t be. pulling back, every ounce of wariness and suspicion is written on his features, and thomas grinds out. ] Who the hell are you?
no subject
Who the hell are you?
The question makes Newt's throat go dry, as dry as it had been in the Scorch. Finally, hands shoves Thomas's away not liking the accusation. ]
Who the hell am I? You're the one with the bloody new personality, new tattoo, new scars, new memories. [ He wants to raise his voice, match Thomas's aggression, but he doesn't, instead, his lowers, not into a threat but instead into something more placating. ] We met in the maze, you didn't like when I called you Greenie, you didn't like anyone callin' ya Greenie.
[ A pause. ]
We ran into the Scorch because we were followin' you. You said they were gonna hook us up to machines and drain us of our blood. For the cure. I remember those things - the cranks - they got Winston, how could I forget that, Tommy? I remember the lightning storm, and Minho getting struck. I remember finding you, we thought you were dead, I remember Jorge, Brenda.
I also remember the cure helping her. Tommy she was gonna die, she got bit, then later she was up and running around. You gave blood to save her. So the whole "no cure" klunk you're talking about is just that - klunk.
[ His hand raises again, this time not to shove Thomas away, but to rest his arm on his shoulder an attempt at grounding at least one of them, though he isn't sure which one of them. ]
Let me clean that and patch it up, then you can keep accusing me.