[OPEN] Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace

[totallytrustworthy]

Date & Time: various; post zombie madness
Location: Places
Characters: Chloe Frazer and YOU-- or at least we all hope it's you in there
Summary: last boarding call for the S.S. Disaster of the Century (viva la revolution)
Warnings: copious amounts of Robin Hooditis

 

A: Cafeteria

[She doesn't much care for the idea of borrowing anything when supplies are scarce. Doesn't like the thought that this is-- for the moment-- all they've got left. But plans are plans, and change is necessary, and nothing in this world (or any other for that matter) comes without a cost. If they mean to hole themselves up long enough for negotiations to leave them all in a better state than the one they're in right now, then spare packets of food and water are more necessity than nicety.

Still, doesn't make the pill go down any easier; Chloe spends more time hovering near the kitchens than what's appropriate for anyone that isn't Gordon Ramsay. Might be worth looking into, honestly.]

B: Corridors; farther away from housing

[And the damage isn't as noticeable as it ought to be, (years of abandonment means the base already looks a half step away from collapsing like a house of cards) but considering she'd rather not experience what it's like getting sucked out into the endless vacuum that is our known universe any time soon, Chloe's quick to lend a hand wherever it's needed amongst the more battle scarred sections of the station. Sure, she's exhausted-- looks the part, sporting a good layer of salt and dust that's been there since the start of the undead fiasco-- but the sooner they get the base back into (relatively) good shape, the sooner she'll feel secure enough to sleep like a proper human being.

If it takes hammering at a few panels for that to be a reality, count her in.]

C: Housing

[Supplies seen to for the moment, holes patched up and wiring duct taped together, Chloe's just about done. The past week hasn't been kind, the past year hasn't stopped digging in under her skin: she's spent. Walks like one of the staggering dead they'd just spent all they've got in them to kill off, on a mission to just get through that last bloody section of the station to hibernate so hard they'll have to hire a prince to wake her up.

So it's safe to say she's not really watching where she's going, arms full up with pilfered foodstuffs and scrap-- and it's also safe to say she won't appreciate any incoming distractions. Or collisions.]



---



[ooc: Use whatever format you like-- and if none of these prompts suit you, feel free to create one of your own! Chloe's out and about and prone to dozing off in a few inappropriate spots for impromptu naps; it's a terrible habit someone should do something about it.]
 

Comments

[totallytrustworthy]

More like how it is you don't know it. Can't be sixteenth century with a haircut like that.

[hyanaimne]

[there's that blank look again. What do haircuts have to do with anything?]

I think I am from a time before that, actually. No electricity, no plumbing, nothing like that at all.

[totallytrustworthy]

[Oh, Tempest. Haircuts and clothes have everything to do with it in Chloe's mind. It's the mark of a decade-- a century-- a solid landmark on the timeline that is their collective past.]

You don't...look...[wait] is this a joke?

[hyanaimne]

Not at all? I am serious.

[totallytrustworthy]

No electricity, no plumbing, and you're from before the sixteenth century. [Okay, twenty questions is go:] Where are you from, then?

[hyanaimne]

[she really doesn't mind twenty questions; she's used to it by now] Daear. A country no one has heard of.

[totallytrustworthy]

Ah. [That explains it.] And you're...human?

[hyanaimne]

Half. [she tilts her head, so the hair falls away from her ear] The other half is Elven.

[totallytrustworthy]

Oh, well, isn't everyone? [Scarcasm-- mild and affectionate-- helps take the edge off meeting yet another supernatural sort; it's like the universe is conspiring to shove everything that unsettles her right into her hands.]

[hyanaimne]

As far as I have heard, I am the only one. [she knows there's other Elves, of course, but other half-bloods? They're probably being smart and not saying a word about what they are]

[totallytrustworthy]

I just-- right, yeah, no. Of course. [Chloe stops, smiles easily enough. It's an apology for teasing, even if the joke never really got across.] Been here long?

[hyanaimne]

[one day down the line she'll get the joke and feel bad that she didn't get it now. But humor has never really gone over well with Tempest anyway]

I have been here since July.

[totallytrustworthy]

Closing in on veteran status. Nicely done. [Which means she (for all the misunderstandings) has had time to watch what goes on under the Initiative's...well, watch. ]

[hyanaimne]

[she makes a face and sighs]

Lovely. I do not suppose I get anything out of earning this status, yes? Other than more frustration?

[totallytrustworthy]

[Chloe laughs at that-- doesn't mean to but it slips out anyway.] Sounds like you know what's ahead of you already.

[hyanaimne]

[the annoyed look on her face isn't aimed at Chloe]

I have enough of that as it is.

[totallytrustworthy]

You and me both. [Which is why it's nothing short of convenient that the crowds are starting to thin out once they get past housing-- enough so that hitting an empty corridor prompts a slight segue.] So long as we don't have a say in what goes on around here, though, that's never gonna change.

[hyanaimne]

[she tilts her head for a moment, thoughtful, before she glances over at Chloe. She'd never asked about the Transports' power in that before, because it had never been important to her until recently, with the whole being forced onto the moon]

A shame, that. The lot in charge do not seem to give a damn what we think.

[totallytrustworthy]

Never have. Never will. Not without a little push-- and good luck getting that to happen. [Testing the water in 3, 2...]

[hyanaimne]

Mm . . . it would be nice if someone would step up and do something about it.

[she lets out a huff, tinged with bitterness and amusement] Good luck on that happening as well, hm?

[totallytrustworthy]

....[cue one last double check on how far off any moon base residents might be, and:] Not as far fetched as you might think, actually.

[hyanaimne]

[that gets her attention. Tempest glances over at her, eyebrows raised]

Ohh? Do tell.

[totallytrustworthy]

More of us than there are of them, right? The only time we have to actually take a stand is before those numbers shift.

[hyanaimne]

Mm . . . and that will not shift until the bombing is, ah, "fixed".

[totallytrustworthy]

Exactly. Which means we've got a small window to apply pressure before it all goes back the way it was.