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voice. un: mggd.
( to cut a long story short, there were two new arrivals, this month. mila had been elusive by design, seeking out the half-finished molded tree that she'd been working on before her absence - the overlay of a few months memories is nothing compared to the hell of a dozen lifetimes blurring together when they first arrived - and clinging to it as the last familiar thing. protecting it from the fire. praising it for how it had grown the way she wanted it to.
she does, eventually, have to acknowledge something beyond her tree. so.
very blandly, and in a voice that will be familiar to some who were present for the announcements she periodically made on behalf of medical or xenogen-- )
I leave you people alone for ten minutes and you set the fucking jungle on fire.
( what's that about. )
she does, eventually, have to acknowledge something beyond her tree. so.
very blandly, and in a voice that will be familiar to some who were present for the announcements she periodically made on behalf of medical or xenogen-- )
I leave you people alone for ten minutes and you set the fucking jungle on fire.
( what's that about. )
text; un: mystique
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[<_>]
how much time did you gain?
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voice. (un: xavier.)
[ HE IS IMMENSELY RELIEVED to hear her voice, but being fake British, it manifests as a touch of warmth in his tone, under the guise of amusement. ]
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( the words are belied, only just, by the hint of warmth that only someone who knows her would even catch. why are all charles' friends assholes? maybe something is wrong with him. )
I missed none of it, you nearly wrecked my tree.
( HIM PERSONALLY. )
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[ You weird witch. ]
It wasn't us, anyway. Or no one's copped to it.
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she loves that less. )
Is that all I missed?
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No.
[ Although it hasn't nearly been the monthly shit show it used to be on the ship. Really, the only news drifting to his mental foreground is 'I have eight fingers and I'm sad'. ]
If you're still staying out there-- well, I'd be careful. The jungle fauna continued to suffer the same afflictions we saw during the nanite corruption sickness, and they've only gotten bigger and nastier. They've been markedly reduced thanks to the fire, but we're running out of animals, apparently.
It seems to be coming from the south, whatever's infecting them. I know there's talk about taking a look.
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( the tree, not 'the memory of my absent girlfriend who I didn't adequately express my feelings to'. she isn't that far gone. )
Are you going?
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[ But Gallos will do as they do. ]
I feel obliged. We found nanite canisters out there, and I'd like to ensure they're destroyed if there're more.
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she isn't sure if she misses anything, anywhere else. she doesn't sound thrilled to be back, but neither does she sound like she's particularly cut up about it, either. )
Oh, nanites, that always ends so well for us. I'll come.
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[ Sigh. ]
But-- good. There's-- bollocks, how do I--There.
[ He's fallen out of some habits. Extensive network use being one of them. ]
I could also use your help with something.
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( --not unkindly. which is something, when it's mila, habitual asshole. )
What do you need?
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[ He'll live. This isn't exactly a secret, so much as something that would be inappropriate to have listened in to. ]
I suffered an accident a little while ago. My, ah. My hand was damaged. I've been attempting to formulate some sort of prosthetic -- by my design, and then have someone craftier than me put it together, but I know this is a speciality of yours.
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It is. What have we got in terms of resources now?
( she'll need to see the injury ... to see what he's been working with so far ... to consider if he wants his fingers regrown, that's not out of the question, but there are always complications. even beyond the understandable reluctance of some people to let someone tinker with their body on a fundamental level. )
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He laughs, a little. ]
You might need to sort through the medical salvage yourself, but from what I know, most higher level machinery is out, but we've people who can manipulate materials into the necessary pieces, and we've plenty in the way of scrap. I'm not-- you know, hoping for miracles, but a little functionality. I have--
It's two fingers, sheared off at the knuckle. [ He can say that without waver in his voice, now, so makes himself do so. It's not the end of the world. It's small, really. It's practically nothing. He keeps it covered at all times. ]
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( which is the sort of thing that isn't actually easy if you aren't who and what mila is, but she's thinking out loud, and in terms of what's going to be the best solution with her capabilities, not just anybody's. )
That will give you the functionality, I think. Regrowing them isn't completely out of the question, but it might be using a sledgehammer to do what a scalpel should do, so - I'll have a look. See what I'll need.
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[ His stomach flops over ever so at the idea of regrowing fingers, but he keeps it out of his tone when he speaks. ]
Courtesy of big toothed things in the jungle. You've, by now, noticed the wall. There are some points of progress to note, in addition.
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Progress?
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[ You know, paltry details. ]
private.
( when not taking care of the real priorities, like weed. )
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It just kind of started.
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What happened?
( is anyone going to catch that. mila thinks she might get away with it. )
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[if it was the rhyme, definitely yes.]
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( at least it wasn't uptown girl. )
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It could have just been a natural phenomena.
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( these are equally absurd concepts. )
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I guess us being here is proof that anything is possible.