(no subject)
Who ; Kat and Virgil (and Bro?)
what ; needs moar technology
where ; Virgil's workshop
when ; some time after his 11/30 entry
warning(s) ; violence, language, sexual... content? (only if he's not pissing his pants)
Virgil's physical health had checked out, according to Shepard's doctor. His mental health was a different story. He had gone insane once before from captivity- had tried to eat his shipmates weeks after he'd been rescued.
His current memory lapse had, quite frankly, scared the shit out of him in that he hadn't even felt that trapped prior to it. Constructing that ship had been calming, distracting, and because no one (other than HAL) had ever tried to stop him, he had not threatened. His only saving graces were the facts that had been so neatly laid out for him: from the scorchmarks outside, the ship had definitely been launched, HAL had the same memory lapse that he did, and other people had died and came back.
After a day of yelling and stressing out and smashing everything that was even remotely smashable in the entirety of his workshop- and then that trip to the creepy doctor to be poked and prodded, Virgil could not wait to settle down. He stepped through broken glass and splintered wood on his way to the bathroom, where he filled the tub up with lukewarm water. It overflowed onto the floor as he sank down. His nictitating membranes slid into place as he stared at the ceiling, holding his breath until his gills took over. They felt sticky at first, but were soon flapping freely enough for him to doze off.
what ; needs moar technology
where ; Virgil's workshop
when ; some time after his 11/30 entry
warning(s) ; violence, language, sexual... content? (only if he's not pissing his pants)
Virgil's physical health had checked out, according to Shepard's doctor. His mental health was a different story. He had gone insane once before from captivity- had tried to eat his shipmates weeks after he'd been rescued.
His current memory lapse had, quite frankly, scared the shit out of him in that he hadn't even felt that trapped prior to it. Constructing that ship had been calming, distracting, and because no one (other than HAL) had ever tried to stop him, he had not threatened. His only saving graces were the facts that had been so neatly laid out for him: from the scorchmarks outside, the ship had definitely been launched, HAL had the same memory lapse that he did, and other people had died and came back.
After a day of yelling and stressing out and smashing everything that was even remotely smashable in the entirety of his workshop- and then that trip to the creepy doctor to be poked and prodded, Virgil could not wait to settle down. He stepped through broken glass and splintered wood on his way to the bathroom, where he filled the tub up with lukewarm water. It overflowed onto the floor as he sank down. His nictitating membranes slid into place as he stared at the ceiling, holding his breath until his gills took over. They felt sticky at first, but were soon flapping freely enough for him to doze off.