Martine does as she promised, once everyone seemed to be settled, carefully easing Alessa onto her feet and guiding her to a quieter place - if Martine was a little more travelled, she'd call it a park. Seymour came too. (Come on, we're leaving, and a measured, thoughtful look ( Read more... )

Alessa knows the layout of the ship well enough to know how to get to the mess hall. (As well as how the works look, even the parts that're mercifully hidden. Such is the nature of psychic powers.) However, knowing is only half the battle. The other half is actually moving in that direction, which is a difficult prospect. Even with her wounds ( Read more... )

While searching through the Possessions Locker, the only clothes of his Rennes found were the trousers and jacket that he'd been given by whomever had stuck him in the Cube ( Read more... )

[OOT: Martine has something to tell Seymour.]

After waking up, Seymour left his cubby. He hasn't gone back since.

He's in the media library in one of the pod rooms. A book is on-screen (To Kill a Mockingbird) - to serve as a handy 'do not disturb' sign for anyone who might enter ( Read more... )

Stacy is interesting - she has to give her that, at least ( Read more... )

[OOT: Grief. Warnings for non-plot-furthering introspection ( Read more... )

Seymour clings desperately to what little he has ( Read more... )

Seymour hasn't left his room for anything other than the bare necessities. There's this stupid part of him that still wants to continue living, you see ( Read more... )

Anyone in the hallway might bump into a solemn, dark eyed girl with ash in her hair. Literally bump - she's not looking at where she's going. She's moving just to move, because if she sits she'll fall asleep and the idea of sleeping, of dreamingShe doesn't want to know what the inside of her head will look like when she closes her eyes ( Read more... )

Cessily was sitting in the art hall, staring very intently at a younger version of herself with pale, perfectly human-looking skin eating an apple and talking to a boy on a bike. And then another image of her near the door of her home, choking, as liquid poured down her throat and over her eyes, liquid from her own body ( Read more... )