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

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Okay, he's got to be on drugs.] Oh...seventy five, eighty?

No, that... [he frowns, stepping backward one step.] I should have known you were coming. Before you were even there. [he shakes his head before bowing it to meet a hand, pinching at the bridge of his nose.]

I'm sorry. [he can see some of her loot on the floor from between his fingers.

he kneels down to fetch them.]

Uhmmm. Right. Okay. [Tired as she is, Chloe moves to intercept and take the supplies before his fingers can manage it.] Maybe you ought to let me handle it while you go have a lie down.

In the clinic.

Others need it more. [zombies, stress, etc. but he lets her snatch what's...well, what he assumes is hers; he only flicks a finger to subtly slide something closer to reach with a bit of that power of his.] Is that where these supplies are going?

[Oh Jesus Christ, mate. She goes stone still for all of half a second in response to what she interprets as magic.] What? Oh. Yeah. [no] Was just on my way to run this batch down.

Seriously though, you need to give yourself a break before you hit the floor.

[he stares, not to be impolite, but...there's a number of cues to interpret here. no? honesty, or watershed from her reaction to the telekinesis?]

Then we will be heading the same way. I can accompany you.

[Lovely. Job well done, Chloe. Still, he does look like hell, and slipping off under his nose a few blocks down is a fair price to pay for him getting some obviously necessary rest. ] You sure I don't need to carry you as well?

--Joking. We'd both wind up on the floor.

[he manages to smile, small though it is. still, many misgivings, even as he rises to stand.]

Rather, I can help you carry what you have on-hand.

Somehow I was afraid you'd say that. [No offense, Blue, but she doesn't really trust you with walking at this point.]

[he can't even argue too hard about it; he knows how he looks, knows better how he feels. instead, he steps to the side to open the hallway in the direction she was heading before knocking into him like a bowling ball.]

But I won't impose. [...beyond...imposing his presence to sate his curiosity, anyway. sorry not sorry.] I only hadn't heard there was a need to transport supplies to that wing of the building...has there been some kind of development? [no more zombies, please.]

[Blue, please. Stop being so sharp.] Aside from the desire to double check and make sure they're not in need of a little charity? Nah. [She does take the held door, though, so that's something.]

There's always a need, to some degree.

[he falls into step just a half-step behind at her side, enough to keep her in view...and not just the back of a head, at that.

really, Chloe. if you didn't know in advance, why load up with excess stuff?]

Fair point. Though I think being stuck on a base that's one door-shut away from collapsing like a house of cards is a bit more dire than the usual nonsense. [And there's no mistaking the fuss in her voice when she says it.]

[there it is. Blue's eyes move to watch her, head still pointed straight ahead.]

You think it so close to ruin?

You don't? Mate there are zombies crawling out of the bloody walls. Half of this station needs more repairwork than we've got time to give before the United Earth decides to look up.

And trust me, they will.

Sooner than later. Unless all the pulling of threads in time is to have the impacts our hosts claim they'll have.

Our hosts claim a lot of things; I've seen it do the opposite. [Bitter? Her? no.]

Edited 2013-11-14 12:52 (UTC)

They've dreamed of many more things, with efforts resulting in less. [devil's advocate? slightly. the rest slides out in a breath, wearied – but he shakes his head in apology. not his intention to be.] The enemy they face does not provide much by means of ideal plans.

No, but I'd say the things I've watched them do? Not justifiable. [Like poisoning an entire village's food supply for the next two hundred years.]

Perhaps not. [he has to keep reminding himself, nothing's certain until the end. the end in question, though...that's in the background, while Chloe's distaste is all up front and center. it's what keeps him silent, chewing on that.

she's like Zel...but if that's a good or a bad thing, it's unclear. especially now.]

Doesn't it bother you? Living like this?

[he slows, frowning, to a stop. her bitter impatience tugs at a few of his own feelings, adding more questions on top of the one she's asked aloud.]

I've lived hundreds of years in unrest like this. [starting to move again.] As a refugee, having to move at the whims of wills with little regard for me. Save that I cease to exist. [looking at her with just the slightest turn of his head her way.] Which is what makes this so different in my eyes, despite how similar it all is.

--sorry did you just say hundreds of years.

Three hundred. My kind live for a long time.

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject