Newt (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sobloodyinspired) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
redshiftlogs2019-08-17 09:28 pm
sobloodyinspired) wrote in redshiftlogs2019-08-17 09:28 pm
{This isn't the world I know
Who: Newt & YOU!
What: He's newly free, after 2wks of containment in a chromed-out medical room. He's exploring and getting familiar with the lay of the land.
When: The rest of August 2019
Where: Various places in Anchor.
Warnings: Newt comes with your usual post-Apocalyptic canon warnings like, but not limited to: Depression, anxiety, paranoia, lethal viruses, violence, government conspiracies, zombie-like creatures, etc... these are not always present, and can be avoided if necessary, but they could come up in any thread.
[First day]
Newt has spent two weeks stuck and isolated in a room by himself. If not for the talk-box, he probably wouldn't have made it this far, if he's honest. He got right and proper bored in there, especially as the clarity returned to him. That was the wildest part for him, if he's honest. He had spent his last weeks of memory deteriorating at a wildly rapid pace-- that's how The Flare worked, the more complacent you were, the slower it acted, but the Trials that WICKED had thrown them into, the panic and the action they were called to all made it advance so much quicker, suddenly-- so to say that he was somehow... treated, if not cured, just didn't make sense to him at all.
He isn't sure how to feel about it, either. If it were possible all this time, why hadn't they just done it? Treatment that has be taken every month, every week, every day is better than becoming a mindless thing that doesn't even know its own name. But then some of the people he'd talked to before said it was a different place, different world all together somehow, right? He's still not completely convinced of that, but he doesn't know what to make of anything just yet.
He wanders until he finds a room filled with strange suits and masks and tanks. He doesn't know what they're all for, but it reminds him of WICKED, the facility they'd held them in when they offered to return their memories to them. Newt stubbornly refused, and he's sure it's better that way. Not remembering the family he lost when he woke up in the Maze three years ago. Remembering would make everything worse. He stands by that choice.
From there, he wanders out and around each level of the colony just to see what all there is to offer there. He makes notes in his head about what is where, though he's sure it'll take more than a few tries to remember it all. The place is contained, but it's definitely huge, possibly bigger than the Glades, but it's hard to tell with the way Anchor is broken up, rather than one giant flat of grass. He visits each area and does some cursory exploring, but he thinks he'll leave the bulk of that to another day, when he's had time to adjust to his new-found accessibility.
He eventually finds his way to the housing area, not entirely sure where he's supposed to be, or if he's just supposed to pick a spot and call it his. He wanders a bit idly, and may look a bit confused if anyone catches him.
[The rest of the month]
Newt doesn't do well with sitting idle, and he's honestly had enough of that in the last two weeks to last awhile. This place reminds him so much of the life that had been, while a bit odd to start, so much simpler than anything in recent history. His three years in the Glade weren't perfect, but he'd found... something of a purpose there. In helping with fields and building and whatever else needed to be done about the place. He thought maybe he could just treat being here like that, find something to work on.
He mostly hangs around the agriculture area. There fences and barns and other structures were dilapidated and run-down, in major need of fixing, though it was obvious that the lot of people here had already started working on it bit by bit. More than once, he starts wandering and gathering pieces of busted wood. They may not be whole anymore, and some of them may be too weak to reuse, but he knows how to make the best of shuck resources. He's done it before. Making piles of what's around is about the best place he knows to start.
At some point, he wanders into the research and development area. He can't say he's very comfortable with what he finds there, it just smacks of WICKED again, and makes every muscle in his body tense. He keeps glancing around, like he's looking for signs of recording devices or cameras or who knew what else. Anything that looked off or weird or out of place.
His discomfort at all the computer screens and other various tools around the place distracted him, glancing over his shoulder when he thinks he heard something and he runs blindly right into something, sending pieces of who-knows-what flying and clattering to the floor. "Bollocks." He mutters to himself, kneeling to pick up what he'd knocked over.
He may also be found wandering just about anywhere within the city, but he isn't venturing outside the protective dome surrounding the colony, though. He's had more than enough adventuring for awhile.
What: He's newly free, after 2wks of containment in a chromed-out medical room. He's exploring and getting familiar with the lay of the land.
When: The rest of August 2019
Where: Various places in Anchor.
Warnings: Newt comes with your usual post-Apocalyptic canon warnings like, but not limited to: Depression, anxiety, paranoia, lethal viruses, violence, government conspiracies, zombie-like creatures, etc... these are not always present, and can be avoided if necessary, but they could come up in any thread.
[First day]
Newt has spent two weeks stuck and isolated in a room by himself. If not for the talk-box, he probably wouldn't have made it this far, if he's honest. He got right and proper bored in there, especially as the clarity returned to him. That was the wildest part for him, if he's honest. He had spent his last weeks of memory deteriorating at a wildly rapid pace-- that's how The Flare worked, the more complacent you were, the slower it acted, but the Trials that WICKED had thrown them into, the panic and the action they were called to all made it advance so much quicker, suddenly-- so to say that he was somehow... treated, if not cured, just didn't make sense to him at all.
He isn't sure how to feel about it, either. If it were possible all this time, why hadn't they just done it? Treatment that has be taken every month, every week, every day is better than becoming a mindless thing that doesn't even know its own name. But then some of the people he'd talked to before said it was a different place, different world all together somehow, right? He's still not completely convinced of that, but he doesn't know what to make of anything just yet.
He wanders until he finds a room filled with strange suits and masks and tanks. He doesn't know what they're all for, but it reminds him of WICKED, the facility they'd held them in when they offered to return their memories to them. Newt stubbornly refused, and he's sure it's better that way. Not remembering the family he lost when he woke up in the Maze three years ago. Remembering would make everything worse. He stands by that choice.
From there, he wanders out and around each level of the colony just to see what all there is to offer there. He makes notes in his head about what is where, though he's sure it'll take more than a few tries to remember it all. The place is contained, but it's definitely huge, possibly bigger than the Glades, but it's hard to tell with the way Anchor is broken up, rather than one giant flat of grass. He visits each area and does some cursory exploring, but he thinks he'll leave the bulk of that to another day, when he's had time to adjust to his new-found accessibility.
He eventually finds his way to the housing area, not entirely sure where he's supposed to be, or if he's just supposed to pick a spot and call it his. He wanders a bit idly, and may look a bit confused if anyone catches him.
[The rest of the month]
Newt doesn't do well with sitting idle, and he's honestly had enough of that in the last two weeks to last awhile. This place reminds him so much of the life that had been, while a bit odd to start, so much simpler than anything in recent history. His three years in the Glade weren't perfect, but he'd found... something of a purpose there. In helping with fields and building and whatever else needed to be done about the place. He thought maybe he could just treat being here like that, find something to work on.
He mostly hangs around the agriculture area. There fences and barns and other structures were dilapidated and run-down, in major need of fixing, though it was obvious that the lot of people here had already started working on it bit by bit. More than once, he starts wandering and gathering pieces of busted wood. They may not be whole anymore, and some of them may be too weak to reuse, but he knows how to make the best of shuck resources. He's done it before. Making piles of what's around is about the best place he knows to start.
At some point, he wanders into the research and development area. He can't say he's very comfortable with what he finds there, it just smacks of WICKED again, and makes every muscle in his body tense. He keeps glancing around, like he's looking for signs of recording devices or cameras or who knew what else. Anything that looked off or weird or out of place.
His discomfort at all the computer screens and other various tools around the place distracted him, glancing over his shoulder when he thinks he heard something and he runs blindly right into something, sending pieces of who-knows-what flying and clattering to the floor. "Bollocks." He mutters to himself, kneeling to pick up what he'd knocked over.
He may also be found wandering just about anywhere within the city, but he isn't venturing outside the protective dome surrounding the colony, though. He's had more than enough adventuring for awhile.
no subject
"Yeah, yeah, it's- it's great, I... didn't really think it'd work. None of the cures at home have ever..." He sighs and shakes his head before really looking at Peter properly again, a halfhearted smile tugging up one side of his mouth. "Better, I think? It's weird, it's- I can still feel it, a little bit, but...nothing like it was. I can think clearly and I...feel more like me than I have in weeks."
no subject
This is all probably the best news Peter's heard since he got here, and he just looks super relieved. For two reasons. Newt being fine (mostly at least) is super good news! Two, now Peter doesn't have to make good on his promise to off this dude if shit were to hit the fan with him.
"That's great, man. I'm sorry everything was so rough for you before, though. Just- anything I can do to help you like, get settled in, let me know."
no subject
no subject
Peter shrugs a shoulder, kind of a vague gesture at the general area, "research and development. Officially, anyway. Back in the day, they would have used this area to come up with new or improved equipment, and then build it. I mostly use it as a place to repair stuff for the station, or tinker with some personal projects. If I have time."
He glances over his shoulder into the room behind him, nodding towards one of those personal projects of his. He has a fancy metal armor suit laying on a table, damaged and partially disassembled. In one corner of the room he has a containment unit housing some of that fun cloudy looking junk from earlier in the month, and in another corner there is straight up a hammock made of spider webs because that's normal.
"I mean, sometimes I nap here? But uh, I don't like, live here. I have an apartment or whatever, and a roommate. And uh. Cats."
no subject
He nods a bit. "Right..." So he wasn't too far off. Still, it's all a bit weird and unsettling. "You have a lot of those, then, yeah?" He notices the things in the various states of completion around the room. He has no clue what any of it is, but it's sure...there.
"Right, good then." At least that's a little weirdness avoided. "Cats? Are there other kind of animals around here?"
no subject
"There's a bunch of animals running around on the agricultural level. S'where I found my cat. There's other animals up there that are super dangerous, though. Take a buddy if you're gonna go exploring the forested area."
no subject
"...Any other tips about this place? I was sort of stuck in a cell for two weeks, after all."
no subject
He'll add it to his ever-growing to do list.
no subject
He smiles a little at the last remark. "You're not taking on too much at once, are you? You seem like the type."
no subject
By 'this stuff' he means the too much stuff that he's taken on at once, way to call him out NEWT. He holds up a finger at that and proceeds to not be convincing at all while he denies this, "I am definitely not that type, like, at all," he said. Y'know. Like a liar.
no subject
"Oh, sure. My mistake." he can't quite hide the smirk tilting up one corner of his mouth at Peter's insistence, there.
no subject
Peter sees that smirk, and he's not at all surprised by it. He's the worst liar ever, he knows this.
"But that's-- that's good though. I know nothing about gardening or slaughtering animals. Honestly, I don't think I could do it. The uh, the animal part."
no subject
He nods, "Yeah, I don't much like that part, either. But we had to eat." He shrugs a little. He left it mostly to the other boys that were assigned it, but who knew how many people here could do that sorta thing? He'd do it, if he needed to.
no subject
"Yeah, fair enough. Eating is kind of important." But the idea of having to murder your own animals to eat does not sound like a good time to this city boy, no sir. "Gonna be honest though, if I had to do the whole slaughtering thing, I'd probably just go vegetarian."
no subject
no subject
He'd gotten so tired of eating canned food, man. The fresh stuff is so much better, even if he has no idea how to cook it well.
no subject
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The rest of that makes him pause for a moment, because maaaan it would be really concerning if that were the case.
"That... that could be a possibility, I guess? I haven't seen any evidence of it, but there are some places that we haven't been able to enter yet. So uh, yeah, I'm not sure, man."
no subject
no subject
Peter's pretty familiar with the tech around here at this point, so he feels at least mostly confident that he'd be able to figure out how to stop anyone from screwing with them.