Anomaly #002 | video, spam

[dinosize]

[ Stephen flicks on his communicator with a somewhat wobbly camera shot. He holds up a fish for the camera's perusal. A clearly dead fish, due to the knife slit through most of its body. ]

This? Is a piranha. Observe the teeth.

Now, swimming with piranhas can be perfectly safe. Except with these, which appear to be in a sort of blood frenzy. You can still be a little safe, if you follow these rules.

Move slowly. Piranhas are attracted by frenzies of movement in the water as much or more than they are by blood.

If you have an open wound, bind it tightly and wash all the blood off before being in the water. Avoid being next to anyone with an open wound.

If all else fails, throw a bit of raw meat down the hallway and escape while they're distracted.

[ Shot reveals that he's perched in a small canoe, currently floating in the piranha hallway. ]

I know we come back here, but a piranha death doesn't sound pleasant to me. Be careful.

[ He flicks the camera off. ]


[ spam ]

[ Stephen spends this flood being generally useful. From fishing for piranhas to rescuing stranded people to viciously killing rogue bumper cars, he'll be wherever the action is. He's careful and generally resourceful and will use any tool at hand to get the job done. He works out of the maintenance bay. ]

Comments

[dinosize]

[ Oh, well, okay, lady, you could have just stepped into the boat, but whatever floats yours.

The fish surge and swarm, but they can't get over the sides. Or, at least, they mostly can't. Stephen has crossed that bridge a few times already. ]

Is it just your legs?

[ He pulls out a first aid kit from under some netting in the bottom. ]

[exnihilo]

Yes.

[She eyes the medical kit with intense suspicion.]

What is that.

[dinosize]

To patch you up?

[ She is incredibly suspicious and guarded. He moves slower, because of it, telegraphing everything as he does it. ]

So you're not flooding the bottom of my canoe with blood.

[exnihilo]

I'll heal.

[But she frowns, trying to remember other injuries, whether he endoframe is even working here. What if it's gone. What if they took her DI too, and that's why she can't hear the gods. Peeled it out of her like the vein from a shrimp while she was sleeping. She holds herself tighter, queasy, low terror.]

[dinosize]

And, fortunately, we humans have invented things to help with that, like bandages, and antiseptic. They won't hurt you.

Piranhas are nothing to be afraid of. Normally.

[exnihilo]

Humans from the dark ages.

[So dubious.]

[dinosize]

You're from the future?

Then, please, show me your alternative.

[exnihilo]

Ages and ages.

[Lofty, and a little woozy. She definitely can't do the transcalary math right now, if she knows it at all.]

It's an endoframe. Internal. Automatic.

[dinosize]

Should you still be bleeding, then?

TW oblique mention of suicide

[exnihilo]

Yes? It's not magic.

[She's. Not sure. How long did it take in the bath, she was much too drunk to keep track, did the warm water and alcohol act as anticoagulants, is it working, is it working? She frowns.]

It should maybe be. Slower. Than it is. The blood. The frame should be faster.

[Maybe?]

[dinosize]

Then you might as well use a bandage to stem the flow.

[exnihilo]

[Scowl pout scowl fine. She puts her weight on her hands on each side of the boat, gingerly easing her legs out from under her.]

No tricks.

[She has no idea what they might be, what conceivable attack could convincingly masquerade as bandages, but she's waiting for something, for him to eat her as much as the fish did. The wild, skittish edges in her eyes are chemical, not rational.]

[dinosize]

[ He holds his hand up, palm out, and he would have held them both if one wasn't paddling them away from the worst of the ravenous school of fish.

No tricks. Fine. ]

I'm Stephen. And you are?

[exnihilo]

[A slow nod, permission to touch, above and beyond putting herself in reach.]

Mira. Hidalgo.

[dinosize]

[ Stephen works quietly and efficiently, drawing the paddle in first and then opening up the kit, peeling away bandages. His touch is as perfunctory as possible, as he presses and tapes on a pad to each little bite wound. ]

[exnihilo]

[The fear lining her silver gilt doesn't diminish, but it changes as he works, shifts its shape inside her skin. Something in her settles, accepts being - tended to, managed, brusquely arranged. She holds still, moves and turns her legs to expose each wounded place, precise, taut. Now it's the sort of fear that contributes to docility instead of interferes with it; the feel of a well-behaved child at the dentist, the fear of a creature with a handler, instead of a wild thing.]