ataraxion | ( 001

[ Oh, no, it's another one of them creatures that has no idea how to operate with technology! So, she slapped the communicator device until it bleeped and she is currently staring at it.

Behind her stretch out the Oxygen Gardens (second level or one of those, since she's in the middle of the jungle), near a body of water. The girl is wet, as if she has jumped in the water, and seems unsure, worried, like she is having second thoughts about this whole broadcasting thing - she doesn't think it's a good idea exposing herself to a network (not that she knows what a network is, but while the concept and word are foreign to her, the idea of exposing herself to the public isn't), but she doesn't seem to have any other ideas of how to get out of here.

There's a long beat until she realizes she is being recorded. ]

I need to go back to the sea. [ She has a strange accent, not quite terrestrial but it could be something like an Australian accent mixed with some Polish or something weird like that. A bit... native American, maybe. Broken and slow, like she has to think about each word before speaking. It's strange and difficult to pinpoint where this accent is from, but she isn't talking much anyway. ] Take me back to the sea. I must not stay.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I dare say..
By Jove, you must be some sort of mythical folk that depends on water. This certainly isn't good.

Madame, I'm sure there is a pool or something of that nature on this vast craft, but nothing like the salty sea, much like the ocean water that I miss myself. It's deffo something queer waking up on something besides my island I grew up on and in some high tech fancy schmacy space ship. I've been here a few months and I still find it odd.
Should there be any sea water, I would be relaxing in it as we speak.

How are you faring? Do you feel alright at the moment?

[ He really does speak weird, and she seems a little confused by his over-the-top reaction, staring at the video feed (she has the communicator on the grass, an awkward angle for her but she doesn't really care nor knows).

She turns her head to the side and points at it, as if the guy could see to where she's pointing at. ]

Yes, water. In there. I like this, better. Bigger. Bath is too small.

Well, I don't reckon you could spend your entirety in the Oxygen Gardens, madame. It might be treacherous what with this ship meddling with us and the such.
Did you happen to locate your correct cabin whence you first arrived here?
The digits on your arm, they are vitally important!

No, I prefer it here. Better than metallic ship. [ She then looks down on her arm and frowns, rubbing at the skin again. She shows him the numbers ( 11 » 039 ) and then cradles her arm in her hand again. ]

I try rubbing it off. It does not come off.

Yes, well.
I prefer the tropical weather and vegetation from my island myself, but you really cannot be choosy here! You do have to go back to the vat couches at the end of his month aswell, so I suggest you listen to the rest of us here.
Apologies if I'm coming across as harsh or unfair, but it's for your safety.

There is a cabin especially for you that correspond with those number, miss. It's best you reside there.

I'd be more than happy to escort you, perhaps?

I do not understand. Why I can't stay here?

Oh boy.
Well, like I said! It's dangerous. I guess you could stay here for large amounts of time but it seems rather foolish to make it your permanent home..
Ah, but you like it a lot. I can understand. I frequently spend time there too.

But here, it is like home. [ me tarzan and all of that ] Why it is dangerous?

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