||Attention, Attention. The following personnel please report to the Observation Deck. Attention, Attention. The following personnel please report to the Observation Deck
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Behind the plastic sheeting, there was... well, a sort of rat's nest of collected papers, taped up all over the walls. Some of them were old status reports, scribbled over with paranoid ramblings and childishly scrawled drawings.
There were drawings that looked suspiciously like that organism Erhart had peeled off of the dead crewman in Crew Quarters. There were looming, black, indistinct figures menacing smaller human ones. Even one almost entirely blackened picture that seemed to depict some kind of abyss, only offset by a few small, frail figures shunted off to the side.
"That's not at all creepy," John grunted. "So Van Gogh here ran into critters."
Of course it was critters. It was always critters. Why'd it have to be snakescritters?
He reached down to collect the drawings. Like the datapad, they should probably should this and their prisoner to the others and see what they had to say. Jamie at least wasn't freaking on him, which he had to say was pretty nice because he could use someone who was chill about weird stuff like this happening.
"Aye. Unless he's just gone daft for some reason." Which, granted, the man was swinging an axe at them. It's not entirely outside of the realm of possibility, although the drawings of that wee beastie do look fairly detailed...
Well, maybe the others would know what to make of them.
"Do ye want me to take those as well?" he asked, with a nod towards the papers. He's got the room in the sporran, so it might be easier that way. If John would rather hang on to them, though, that would be up to him. Either way, he's going to finish his sweep of the area. "Think that might be the last of it, though."
He glances over at the unconscious crewman, who still doesn't seem to show any signs of getting up, and sighs. "Now what?"
Sunshine sleep-mumbled something about tests, but did not get up. Well, maybe he needed his beauty sleep, anyway; it wasn't as if it looked like he'd been getting much recently.
There were drawings that looked suspiciously like that organism Erhart had peeled off of the dead crewman in Crew Quarters. There were looming, black, indistinct figures menacing smaller human ones. Even one almost entirely blackened picture that seemed to depict some kind of abyss, only offset by a few small, frail figures shunted off to the side.
They probably all belonged to Sunshine.
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Of course it was critters. It was always critters. Why'd it have to be snakescritters?
He reached down to collect the drawings. Like the datapad, they should probably should this and their prisoner to the others and see what they had to say. Jamie at least wasn't freaking on him, which he had to say was pretty nice because he could use someone who was chill about weird stuff like this happening.
Reply
Well, maybe the others would know what to make of them.
"Do ye want me to take those as well?" he asked, with a nod towards the papers. He's got the room in the sporran, so it might be easier that way. If John would rather hang on to them, though, that would be up to him. Either way, he's going to finish his sweep of the area. "Think that might be the last of it, though."
He glances over at the unconscious crewman, who still doesn't seem to show any signs of getting up, and sighs. "Now what?"
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