Charles Smith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
borntohurt) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
redshiftlogs2020-02-18 09:31 am
borntohurt) wrote in redshiftlogs2020-02-18 09:31 am
[open] scent of silence under starlight spinning
Who: Charles Smith and YOU. Yes you. You.
What: Exploring Anchor with a new four-legged blob-friend. Come say hey!
When: /wiggles hands vaguely and gestures at month of February
Where: All over Anchor. Seriously, he's just exploring the full extent of what's there, so you can meet up with him anywhere.
He couldn't say he'd enjoyed his time there, but things had perhaps been simpler in the City of Sin than he'd given them credit for.
For one, he'd had a place to retreat to with some kind of certainty, when need be. And the need is rather dire, as it happens. He can feel that itch coming up on him, that sense of anxiety that needed release. It grows as the days go by, clawing, scrabbling to be let out, but he doesn't trust the people here quite the same. Here, there seems to be less space to run.
Granted, it wasn't as bad as the first few times. With practice and help, he had something of a handle on the transformation. But it wasn't as good as being able to control it entirely. When it wanted out, it was going to get out, and what it wanted always remained the same. Run. Hunt. Eat. Protect the Pack.
Better that not be around a bunch of people it didn't know.
---
So he's on the move through the city, level by level, looking for anyplace big enough -- and secure enough -- to work for the time being. He's managed to find some new clothing from the recent appearance of the Alien Hot Topic, replacing his worn-out boots and acquiring a new black leather jacket in the process. It's a strange mix of old and modern, still preferring the shirt he'd arrived in, still wearing his beaded necklace, an eagle feather twined into his hair and hanging delicately against his shoulder.
Charles isn't alone, either. Almost fittingly, one of the blobs seems to have taken a liking to him and is following him around in its current assumed form: a large gray wolf. It trots along at his side, quietly offering suggestions and encouragement through this strong bond they now share as they make their way through the levels, exploring as much of the available space as possible.
Really, they're going to make their way just about everywhere in the complex. They're bound to run into at least a few people along the way.
What: Exploring Anchor with a new four-legged blob-friend. Come say hey!
When: /wiggles hands vaguely and gestures at month of February
Where: All over Anchor. Seriously, he's just exploring the full extent of what's there, so you can meet up with him anywhere.
He couldn't say he'd enjoyed his time there, but things had perhaps been simpler in the City of Sin than he'd given them credit for.
For one, he'd had a place to retreat to with some kind of certainty, when need be. And the need is rather dire, as it happens. He can feel that itch coming up on him, that sense of anxiety that needed release. It grows as the days go by, clawing, scrabbling to be let out, but he doesn't trust the people here quite the same. Here, there seems to be less space to run.
Granted, it wasn't as bad as the first few times. With practice and help, he had something of a handle on the transformation. But it wasn't as good as being able to control it entirely. When it wanted out, it was going to get out, and what it wanted always remained the same. Run. Hunt. Eat. Protect the Pack.
Better that not be around a bunch of people it didn't know.
---
So he's on the move through the city, level by level, looking for anyplace big enough -- and secure enough -- to work for the time being. He's managed to find some new clothing from the recent appearance of the Alien Hot Topic, replacing his worn-out boots and acquiring a new black leather jacket in the process. It's a strange mix of old and modern, still preferring the shirt he'd arrived in, still wearing his beaded necklace, an eagle feather twined into his hair and hanging delicately against his shoulder.
Charles isn't alone, either. Almost fittingly, one of the blobs seems to have taken a liking to him and is following him around in its current assumed form: a large gray wolf. It trots along at his side, quietly offering suggestions and encouragement through this strong bond they now share as they make their way through the levels, exploring as much of the available space as possible.
Really, they're going to make their way just about everywhere in the complex. They're bound to run into at least a few people along the way.
no subject
Might as well offer. He's here, and he's got the time. Besides, if she finds anything that might prove useful, it's of benefit to everyone here.
That's the sort of work effort he can get behind.
no subject
"If you're offering, then sure. Would be easier if they kept all this shit digital."
But there's a surprising amount of physical books and... are those imperial scrolls just lying there?
no subject
But he makes his way over, all the same, crouching down with a grunt to dust off a couple of tomes and look them over before stacking them carefully to one side.
no subject
"Well, that's the thing about data -- it's usually there when you turn the machine or device back on again. And power can be easily restored, if you know how it works."
Of course Rey, the walking powerhouse and habitual hermit, would know a few things about how to live off the grid but not out of touch.
no subject
He frowns thoughtfully, his scarred brow furrowing deep, before shaking his head. "Think anyone should have access to it, simple as this. Maybe it's clumsier, but it's always there. Something digital could give someone a hard time, if they don't know how it works or how to get it turned on."
He's not a book lover per se. But he knows a thing or two about people trying to horde information, keep those less educated in the dark for their own purposes. And he feels being wary is a just reaction to that idea.
no subject
"Guess both have their advantages and disadvantages." She lifts a thick tome from the pile of rubble, grimacing at it. "Maybe that's why they have datapads and books here. The people before could've had their preferences."
Or maybe there could be some clues as to where they went and why somewhere in the rubble. Records or documentation of some sort...
no subject
There's a lot of junk. A lot of trash to be cleared off, and maybe he can help with that part of it. Though she's been making her way through at an impressive rate, already.
Still, something to do is better than standing idle.
no subject
Seriously, what's with these papers all written in Chinese?
She tosses a dusty old scroll aside with a grunt. "Useless. And probably fake."
no subject
With a furrowed brow, he reaches for the scroll she'd tossed aside, turning it over in his hands. Angel would probably understand it. She was the smartest person he knew, and maybe she could make sense of it.
"Why would someone fake a book?"
no subject
"Who knows. Actually, 'fake' night not be the right word for it, so much as a replica... Because if that was an original copy, it would be so goddamn old it wouldn't be able to hold itself together, let alone survive this mess." Rey gestures to the ruined corners of the library.
no subject
He straightens for a moment, taking account of the space they have to work with. "Could get it all organized. Maybe someone who can make sense of it would have an easier time that way. And it gives us a little more room, in case we need it."