(Untitled)

[instrument_of]

Somewhere in there, time passes.

Sickbay. A blur of drugs and nervous energy. Frantic explanations and calls in the middle of the night. Angels in the wall, on his bed. In his head. Reality wavers.

More time passes.

People don't bother listening to him. They don't bother to consider the possibility of the Nexus, of a route to Earth not played

Comments

[some_thing_]

It's almost, but not quite, coincidence that Ulysuss is wandering in the area, tall and lanky and self-contained, moving in that strange aimless-but-with-purpose way that hunters have. It grins when it sees the man, the smile friendly and confined to its proper mouth. "Hullo," says the right eye pleasantly.

[instrument_of]

Gaius remembers the Thing clearly enough from the night before. Even if the enemy of his enemy should be his friend, he's definitely a little hesitant about this one. The lack of facial features might be a factor.

"Hello." He does his best to fake a smile, but hiding emotions is far from his forte. (Is his lip twitching? Maybe.) He keeps a healthy distance.

[some_thing_]

It doesn't, striding closer to him. "We met last night, didn't we? Guyus?"

[instrument_of]

"Briefly," he says, shrugging his shoulders in an effort to look casual. Still, he takes a step back, hands fidgeting with his jacket. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's somewhere I need to be."

'Somewhere' meaning not in front of a being with frakking mouths instead of eyes. Honestly, he'll never get used to this place.