Capesize AU - Open to All

[makeyourownkindofmusic]

[You are now waking up in the loading bay of the spaceship equivalent of a broken down AMC Gremlin. The air is cold and mysterious wires you should certainly not go anywhere near are sparking in the walls and the ceiling. Every five minutes or so the lights dim and go red for a moment.

There is a kitchen with bread, bacon, eggs, water, and the usual powders. There is also a medical bay, but it's been cleared of everything other than cotton swabs and tongue depressors. The sleeping compartments are empty and the blankets are covered in dust.

The Captain is wandering the engine room, but will not speak to any of her new guests.]

Comments

[bricolaging]

[...This isn't right.

Alfred wakes up with Breakfast at Tiffany's still balanced on his chest. He'd been reading it before he'd slept. Now he was awake and everything was strange.]

This isn't my living room. [He touches a loose wire with a toe and shudders deeply. No, this isn't right. Not at all.]

[veulen]

[And again.

Sanna had been on a brief trip off of the FML II and, when she felt the familiar tug, she expected to arrive among the bright and gaudy walls of her home.

She is not very surprised to find out that wasn't where she was. This place reminds her of the ship that switched bodies around, de-aged some people, and turned the rest into monsters. Despite the associated trauma with that, at least she is still in her own body.

Sanna keeps her bow out as she walks down the hallways, keeping an eye out for the associated dangers of being in spaceships. Flying savages, weird melting substances, a Captain on some sort of drug...

Or a man in a room with a book. Looks could be deceiving, but he looked harmless.]

No?

[bricolaging]

What? [Alfred spins round to throw a look at-- well, it's a girl. Smaller than he is. He pushes a hand through his hair and looks at her carefully.] Who are you?

[veulen]

Sanna. Who are you? [She is still standing with her bow in a ready-to-use pose, more for what could potentially appear behind them than because of the person in front of her.]

Have you been here long?

[bricolaging]

Alfred. Alfred Walker. [Should he be telling her his name? Should he tell her anything else? She's holding a bow. Why? Is she into the Hunter Games or something?] I just woke up.

[He clutches his book to his chest. Truman Capote won't protect him from anything that needs an arrow in it.] Why do you have a bow?

[anemonene]

[Pearle has been on the BYL for several hours now. The initial panic has faded but her hands still shake as she holds a blanket she found wrapped tight around her, sending strange-smelling dust everywhere. She hides beside the door to the loading bay, poking her head in every few moments to see if anyone else has appeared. Maybe one of them has answers. Maybe they can take her home, to her real home...

At the sound of Alfred's voice, Pearle darts out again. Her face falls. He looks like everyone else from Earth 1. That doesn't mean he can't still hurt her, though.]

S-stay back. I'm w-w- I'm warning you.

[bricolaging]

What? [Alfred looks at her incredulously. He's on a spaceship; he's still clutching his book to his chest; his hair is sticking up at the wildest angles. Now a lady is acting like he's going to attack her. What on earth is going on?] I'm not about to hurt you! What's going on?

[He takes a step back, holding the book up in front of him, as a kind of shield, or totem, or...something.] I'm probably just as confused as you!

[anemonene]

[Pearle is busy gauging Alfred's reaction. She's by no means considered professional by Knights Templar standards, but she has been through all the training. She should be able to asses someone's threat level. Keeping well behind the door, she starts to take off her gloves.]

Probably has s-something to do with the hole in the sky.

[bricolaging]

What? [Hole in the sky? What on earth--] Do you mean the hole in the ozone layer?

[...Please mean the hole in the ozone layer.

Seeing her behind the door, Alfred cocks his head and leans around, trying to see what else is behind the door, acute curiousity and vague horror fighting for a place on his face. What the hell is going on? Who is she?]

Who on Earth are you?

[umehime]

[Umeka is slowly waking up in the loading bay, her body cocooned by a thick duvet and a few blankets she's managed to twist around her in her sleep. She lets go of the plushie she'd been clutching and reaches for her glasses, which are usually on the nightstand beside her futon. Only there's no nightstand. There's no futon, either. And most importantly, there are no glasses.]

Nemhain? [she whispers as she untangles herself and gets to her feet. Squinting into the dim light, Umeka takes a shaky breath.] N-Nemhain?

[giving35percent]

[With a violent twitch of his leg, Dmitri wakes and winces. His head hurts, but it's not the worst hangover he's ever had. Good for him, because he has no fucking clue where he is and blacking out usually leaves him a wreck the next morning. He props himself up on his elbows and looks around. Did someone drag him onto a 90s Star Trek set after he passed out?]

This is bullshit... [He grunts as he stands. His grubby jeans are practically hanging off him, his t-shirt has holes in it and his flipflops have fabric daisies on the straps. He's not exactly an ideal specimen for abduction, but then again neither are those inbred hillbillies that are always rambling on the History Channel...]

I'm gonna get fucking fired.