anomaly 007 . post-fourth wall . spam, video

[dinosize]

[ He's been worrying himself sick since the day came and went. Nick could be gone forever. He probably is gone forever. Stephen has been certain for weeks now that he never truly wants to go back to the ARC, but hearing that he will never see Nick again has gutted him.

He occupies himself cleaning and scouring his cabin. It doesn't even matter, does it? This is all illusion. But he does it anyway, scrubbing up every stain and erasing every bit of dust. ]

[ spam ]

[ Bags of trash gather out in the hallway on level 8, outside cabin 11, things from the closets and basement that he'll probably never use again. Old blankets, ripped clothes, broken equipment. Dusty novels. Eventually a nice smell spreads, like slow-cooking beef or venison, and a large pot of stew shows up on a potholder in the 8th level common room. ]

[ video ]

[ Just a brief post - ] Bit of stew out in the common room on the 8th level. I made too much for just me.

It's from those things like deer, last port.

[ private to friends. acquaintances? people he's starting to know. Later. ]

Are a lot of you dead?

[ He's a few pints down. Wishing he couldn't still think. ]

Comments

[dinosize]

Smells better than it is.

[ He's not watching her. He's lying back on one of the couches, one leg bent at the knee, the other foot on the ground. Staring at the ceiling. ]

[fireincarnate]

I'll take my chances. [She's still hovering a bit, because why not, and she floats over to ladle herself some stew before turning towards his couch.]

Have you eaten any yet?

[dinosize]

A bit.

[ He finally looks to her, and jolts a little when he realizes she isn't actually touching the ground. Blinks, and sits up a fraction to confirm his observation.

By 'a bit' he really means a bit - he tasted the meat to make sure it was tender, the potatoes to make sure they were done. Didn't have an actual bowl. ]

...Right. Mutant, yes?

[fireincarnate]

Yes. [The surprise - bewildered, intrigued, rather than hostile - makes her smile.] I'll pour you some too, okay?

[dinosize]

Too late. Ingesting fats only helps with hangovers if you do it before you're drinking. It changes absorption rates.

[fireincarnate]

Right. Of course. [Her lips quirk in a wistful smile; suddenly, she misses Hank fiercely.] Will it distract you from being miserable?

[dinosize]

Found out that my best friend's dead.

No, I don't think a bit of stew's going to help.

[fireincarnate]

[Well, crap.

The smile falls. Okay, forget the stew for now; she just takes her plate and walks over to sit beside him.]

What happened? [Her voice is soft, gentle; she won't push, if he doesn't want to tell her.]

[dinosize]

The network glitch.

[ He leans back against the arm of the sofa, his legs curled up in front of him. ]

I spoke to him.

[fireincarnate]

[Jean doesn't scrunch in too close, but she turns round to face him, legs curling beneath her.]

I'm sorry. [Because of course she is.] I - my first deal was to bring mine back.

[dinosize]

It work?

[ It's easier not to keep talking about him. ]

[fireincarnate]

Yes, it did. [There's an awed sort of gratitude in her voice, still. It was so long ago - but she still remembers a life where Annie died in her arms.] She still got hurt - she was in a coma, for a while - but...I was able to save her. [To keep her alive, until help came. It still broke her mind open, but it was worth it.]

[dinosize]

Sounds lucky.

[ His voice is sort of listless. He already saved Nick once. Why does he have to do it again? ]

[fireincarnate]

I suppose. [She hasn't lost her again, after all - and that's always a possibility, isn't it?

She takes a sip of stew, as she considers where to go next.]

...Hey, this is really good.

[dinosize]

It's fresh.

[ Fresh, and quality, which is how he'd learned to feed himself while becoming an athlete. Nutritious balance. ]

[fireincarnate]

[Jean nods, and might possibly be shoving more spoonfuls into her mouth.]

I've had to...live off the land a few times. [If that's what you'd call being stuck in the Savage Land, or stranded on Monster Island.] It's tough, but - nothing tastes like things you've hunted or picked yourself.

[She felt dreadful, the first few times she did it - she was always pretty in tune with animals, she hated making them feel pain or fear. But she also knew how the world worked.

She made it quick, and painless, and she knew it wasn't a waste. That's what mattered.]

You know - some people go hunting in the CES.

[dinosize]

[ Rolls his head to look at her. ]

Some people, like me. And my inmate. Often.

[fireincarnate]

[And her expression turns sheepish.] Right. Good. I wasn't sure if you knew.

[dinosize]

It's all right.

I spend a lot of time in CES. Usually with someone else, so it doesn't up and show me the Silurian or the Cretaceous.

[fireincarnate]

[Jean stares, for a second, spoon halfway to her mouth.]

You mean - the geologic periods? [She's no expert on prehistory, but she's fought enough dinosaurs to want to brush up on it.]

[dinosize]

What else?

[fireincarnate]

[And now she's grinning.] That's amazing. I've never - I mean, I've seen dinosaurs, but not where they were supposed to be.

[dinosize]

Mostly, I've seen them not where they're supposed to be.

[fireincarnate]

Less amazing. [But, you know, she's still grinning.] Did you put them back where they belong?

[dinosize]

We tried.