So, you're totally okay with everyone just doing their own thing, even if it means in the end we're all fucked?
( She sounds like she doesn't believe him. Then again, she's never been able to just fight for herself and no one else. )
Keeping our heads down is fine, but like, how are we going to ever figure a way out of this if we don't talk to each other? I bet you ninety percent of us don't understand the first thing about living on a space station. But you apparently do, so why don't you tell people?
[ he just stares at her. she can decide whether he's "okay" with that. the truth is he isn't okay at all, but what does that matter? ]
Fine. What do you wanna know? [ deal is this: he can tell her whatever it is she thinks is in his head that's so damn important. then if she thinks it's worthwhile she can share it with the rest of these takers. ]
Probably the people who trapped us here, huh? I'd worry about them before all this other... shit.
[ because it is shit. shit they can't do anything about whether they take fifty showers or none. ]
Like I said, the air filters will crap out before all of that. We've got a botanist from Ganymede he's got a few plants he's setting up to extend our time, but... There's no tellin' how long we'll be stuck here, alright, so- Most of these systems are automated, obviously, otherwise we'd all be dead. You see Burton's post about boots and stowing your shit? He's the space expert anyway, not me.
Ganymede. ( She says that with something slightly mystified. ) Amos mentioned that. I know it's a moon, but people live there in your time, right?
( It sounds like a dream, but this right here is a nightmare. )
So, we need to look after plants. That'll keep us going for longer. Showering less? Also a plus. I hate sleeping in boots, but I have been since Amos told us we needed them.
( Then, more carefully. )
I know you probably think I'm stupid. I've never been to space. I don't know how it works, sure. But I know how to survive, and I can guarantee most of the people on this station want to too. So don't write us off for not knowing everything immediately.
It's a station in the belt. Like the rock I'm from - Ceres. Except instead of criminals and secrets it's full of scientists who make things better for everyone. Most of them, anyway. All the food in the system is grown on Ganymede. And they make the best gin I've ever touched my lips to.
[ he has to slip an arm around his ribcage to sit up when he starts slumping too much, sliding down the chair. he grimaces as he edges up a little so he can maintain eye contact. ]
I can't tell you anything specific without seeing the life support levels, okay? We could be in great shape, who knows. But judging by the rest of this place... I'm just gonna assume we're mostly screwed. [ he blows out a breath. fucking a clary. ] You're... you're not stupid. Just keep your eyes and ears open, like you've been doing. You'll be fine.
( Her eyes narrow a little when he wraps an arm around himself, when he grimaces with something that is most definitely pain. She hates that she can't help other people with her power. If only she could apply a rune to any Mundane, help them get better, keep them safe. But it would ruin them. No amount of wishing will fix that. )
What happened?
( It's obvious what she's asking about, and even if she can't take it away maybe she can help. )
You're hurt, right? Have you been to the clinic? There's a guy running one now.
( Clary is a woman of action, and so she strides over to where the replicators are, her back to Miller. It takes a while, and she definitely ends up smacking the machine at one point, but eventually she manages to get a glass full of ice-blocks.
They're not clear, so she doesn't want to think about what is actually frozen. Then she's grabbing something from a stack of abandoned scraps, heading back to the table. The fabric - probably one of the many abandoned shirts that have littered the station - she places in front of her, the ice she tumbles out on top. Then she rolls it into a bundle and hands it to Miller. )
[ he watches her over his shoulder, confused, but in no position to stop her either. when he sees the "ice" appear, well, it's touching actually. he reaches his arm across to take the ice pack and holds it against his side. he has to close his eyes for a second as the cold intensifies the pain, but then the spot steadily starts to go numb and he's blinking his eyes open again. ]
( She just has to protect all the dumb old men, it's her life mission. Clary smiles a little, and then decides against suffering her way through whatever the replicator made up. A Nourishment rune is a much better prospect.
So she rises, her tray scooting along the table. ) I'll leave you to your brooding, but if that gets worse then I'm not above kicking your butt and dragging you to the clinic. I'll be watching.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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( She sounds like she doesn't believe him. Then again, she's never been able to just fight for herself and no one else. )
Keeping our heads down is fine, but like, how are we going to ever figure a way out of this if we don't talk to each other? I bet you ninety percent of us don't understand the first thing about living on a space station. But you apparently do, so why don't you tell people?
no subject
Fine. What do you wanna know? [ deal is this: he can tell her whatever it is she thinks is in his head that's so damn important. then if she thinks it's worthwhile she can share it with the rest of these takers. ]
no subject
( Watch this space, Miller. She'll make a network wide post tomorrow. )
Do the replicators run out? What about the oxygen? What else do we need to ration? Like, how do we make sure we have as long as we need in space?
no subject
[ because it is shit. shit they can't do anything about whether they take fifty showers or none. ]
Like I said, the air filters will crap out before all of that. We've got a botanist from Ganymede he's got a few plants he's setting up to extend our time, but... There's no tellin' how long we'll be stuck here, alright, so- Most of these systems are automated, obviously, otherwise we'd all be dead. You see Burton's post about boots and stowing your shit? He's the space expert anyway, not me.
no subject
( It sounds like a dream, but this right here is a nightmare. )
So, we need to look after plants. That'll keep us going for longer. Showering less? Also a plus. I hate sleeping in boots, but I have been since Amos told us we needed them.
( Then, more carefully. )
I know you probably think I'm stupid. I've never been to space. I don't know how it works, sure. But I know how to survive, and I can guarantee most of the people on this station want to too. So don't write us off for not knowing everything immediately.
no subject
[ he has to slip an arm around his ribcage to sit up when he starts slumping too much, sliding down the chair. he grimaces as he edges up a little so he can maintain eye contact. ]
I can't tell you anything specific without seeing the life support levels, okay? We could be in great shape, who knows. But judging by the rest of this place... I'm just gonna assume we're mostly screwed. [ he blows out a breath. fucking a clary. ] You're... you're not stupid. Just keep your eyes and ears open, like you've been doing. You'll be fine.
no subject
What happened?
( It's obvious what she's asking about, and even if she can't take it away maybe she can help. )
You're hurt, right? Have you been to the clinic? There's a guy running one now.
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I'm fine. Nothing they can do for me without a real medbay, so. [ which are two very contradictory statements, but oh well. ]
no subject
( Too many people have died on her recently, so all that endless pain seems to get channelled into harassing strangers. )
Because sure, there's no medbay, but there are people with knowledge. There might even be pain relief.
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( Clary is a woman of action, and so she strides over to where the replicators are, her back to Miller. It takes a while, and she definitely ends up smacking the machine at one point, but eventually she manages to get a glass full of ice-blocks.
They're not clear, so she doesn't want to think about what is actually frozen. Then she's grabbing something from a stack of abandoned scraps, heading back to the table. The fabric - probably one of the many abandoned shirts that have littered the station - she places in front of her, the ice she tumbles out on top. Then she rolls it into a bundle and hands it to Miller. )
Hold this to them. It'll help with the pain.
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...Thanks, kid. [ he doesn't get u but whatever ]
no subject
( She just has to protect all the dumb old men, it's her life mission. Clary smiles a little, and then decides against suffering her way through whatever the replicator made up. A Nourishment rune is a much better prospect.
So she rises, her tray scooting along the table. ) I'll leave you to your brooding, but if that gets worse then I'm not above kicking your butt and dragging you to the clinic. I'll be watching.
( SIGNS ADOPTION PAPERS IMMEDIATELY. )