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[open] REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD
CHARACTERS: EVERYONE
WHERE: Station 72
WHEN: DAY :001
SUMMARY: The Hyrypia away team returns to Station 72.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
((OOC Notes: This is the catch-all log for the return to Station 72. If you have any questions, please hit up the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))
WHERE: Station 72
WHEN: DAY :001
SUMMARY: The Hyrypia away team returns to Station 72.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!
STATION 72
DAY :001HOMECOMING
THE STEALTH SHIPS JUMPS AWAY and leaves the brassy marble of Hyrypia, a dismantled war, and a tentatively reunited people behind it. The jump from the universe is nauseating - even with the symbiote's anchoring quality, bodies displace poorly -, but surely it's no competition over the shared relief to be done with that place. There could be happiness. There should be. But surely the quiet prone figures in the back of the ship are a morbid reminder of everything Hyrypia has cost.
This work isn't easy.
Luckily the burden won't be shouldered alone. The moment the stealth ships snaps into the space between spaces, an overwhelming sense of connectivity floods the symbiote mental link. Regardless of how many of your broodmates might remain, it's undeniable that the presence of other Hosts is somehow a relief. Involuntarily or otherwise, taut shoulders relax and anxious nerves smooth. It's fine. You made it. Welcome home.
The sense of comfort only solidifies as the ship penetrates the irregular hull of Station 72, as its engines power down and the landing platform whirs upward to corkscrew the ship back into its rightly place on the hangar deck. 'Tik, tik, tik' whirr the engines as they fade. With the flip of a switch, the boarding ramp's hydraulics kick on and the rear of the ship opens itself -- to waiting faces, likely.
"Thank you for joining us today on the HMS Squid," says Rhan, all smiles and cheer as she unbuckles her safety harness. "Don't forget to take your belongings from where you've stowed them and return your seats to their upright positions, et cetera et cetera."
She gives the assembled away team a last, well practiced wink. "Now unless you really haven't anything better to do, feel free to get the hell off my boat darlings."
((OOC Notes: This is the catch-all log for the return to Station 72. If you have any questions, please hit up the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))
no subject
Who said I was glad to be here! The only thing that's good about this place is I don't have to wear that stupid disguise. I missed being able to cut loose.
[ Which he does later on, but for now, he thrusts the flat bandages and tape he's been trying to apply to the lower angle of his shoulderblade, where the worst of the abrasions sit. And then he jerks it back, accusingly. ]
You washed your hands, right?
no subject
[ That is to say: of course he washed his hands. ]
no subject
[ wow, listen you little shit ]
I doubt some of these people wash their hands. We share brains, why not germs.
[ all the same, he slams his hand down into the space alongside his left, shoulders squared and jaw clenched against the thought of allowing anyone into his personal space, especially in a way that means he can't see them when they're speaking. it makes things difficult, for him. and he doesn't want to lapse into thought-conversations, because he's tired of not using his voice. ]
no subject
[ You will never catch him sharing germs, swapping spit, or getting hot and heavy with anyone else in this nest. Homey don't play that.
There's only a moment's pause for him to size up the injuries before he gets to work. He's got a firm enough touch to do what needs to be done, but only just; no more pressure than necessary, no needless aggravation of the wounds. Quick, precise, and unobtrusive, as most things tend to be with him. ]