It was the damnedest thing, really. They had thought that last they'd checked, they'd been going to bed after a long- long- god damn night. Almost nothing had felt better than the embrace of fluffy blankets and the firm knowledge of having nothing to do for at least the few weeks until their birthday, for the first time in like. Ever?
They had, unfortunately, awoken to the sound of explosions- who'd printed more explosives oh god no- and... little robots, carrying them gently to the ground.
In the middle of a city.
A massive city.
One that was filled with more people than they'd ever seen in their lives and some of them were staring but most of them were looking at the symphony of light and sound and very definitely explosions currently turning night into day.
This was- this had to be Earth, right? But that wasn't possible. Why the robots? What happened.
They knew, of course, that they should be more afraid, more bothered by this- but this smelled like a mystery. It was new, and wholly unexpected, and that made it unique.
They stood, a touch shakily, dusting themself off. "Ooookay. Taaake stock of inventory. We haaave. Dad's necklace. Clothes. Always a plus. Databand... nnnnothing else. Frig."
Well, nothing for it. Flag down a stranger, winning smile, raise hand in greeting. "Hi! 'Scuse me, but I am super amazingly looAA-" with the gesture, the paved street had cracked right open, a sapling thrusting upwards through the asphalt and leafing at impossible speed. They backpedaled, stumbling as the road turned to moss and clover at their feet- and found that another sapling had broken their fall.
Sol thought of themself as a normally-calm person. Fairly unflappable in the face of even the most stressful situations, in fact. This? This was so far beyond the realm of 'expected parameters of bullshit in my life' that there were no longer charts for the readings to go off of.
They responded with all of the dignity and grace one could come to expect of a respected and beloved member of the Vertumna Group.
"What the FUCK."
LITTLE FISH IN A BIG POND Help
They had been given, in short order, a hotel room (which they did not understand), a series of educational pamphlets that were very informative and not at all helpful (which were made of paper. Paper!), a 'phone' (which was... charmingly low-tech), and a plastic rectangle which, they were assured, could get them anything they needed. Also, apparently, they had superpowers now. Which were much, much less concerning than the timey-wimey wormhole... stuff they'd been used to. Florakinesis, the very businesslike lady who'd examined them had called it- which might as well have been fucking magic because they'd made the potted spider plant in their hotel room grow to cover the entire damn room without meaning to- and also pluck a small armload of luminescent fungi out of their hair and clothing, because apparently a few spores had stayed on their clothes.
Most of which made sense enough to them, they supposed, but the problem was- the Stratos colony had had, on landing, a hair shy of three hundred individuals, all included. The Heliopause, when it had crashed, had brought another hundred and fifty or so to the table, after casualties that had numbered in the upper sixties. They had never, at any point in their life, been exposed to more than four hundred-ish individuals humans at once.
Central City had a population had a population (they'd asked) clocking in at over half a million. And then the Alliance had pointed them in the direction of a shopping center, which was nothing at all like a supply depot, where you requisitioned what you needed, traded in some kudos if it was a luxury item, got it nanoprinted, and then went home. No. This place was neon and bright lights and music and so much stuff crammed into every storefront that it was impossible to keep track of it all at once.
Marz would have loved it- Sol was mostly just lost, head turning so often they were sure to strain their neck as they tried- and failed- to take everything in.
WILD CARD Order off the secret menu
Hello, friends! If you've any desire to play something out you don't see here, by all means reach out to me at loxagn or via private message here!
Solanaceae || I Was a Teenage Exocolonist || OTA
Stranger in a strange land
They had, unfortunately, awoken to the sound of explosions- who'd printed more explosives oh god no- and... little robots, carrying them gently to the ground.
In the middle of a city.
A massive city.
One that was filled with more people than they'd ever seen in their lives and some of them were staring but most of them were looking at the symphony of light and sound and very definitely explosions currently turning night into day.
This was- this had to be Earth, right? But that wasn't possible. Why the robots? What happened.
They knew, of course, that they should be more afraid, more bothered by this- but this smelled like a mystery. It was new, and wholly unexpected, and that made it unique.
They stood, a touch shakily, dusting themself off. "Ooookay. Taaake stock of inventory. We haaave. Dad's necklace. Clothes. Always a plus. Databand... nnnnothing else. Frig."
Well, nothing for it. Flag down a stranger, winning smile, raise hand in greeting. "Hi! 'Scuse me, but I am super amazingly looAA-" with the gesture, the paved street had cracked right open, a sapling thrusting upwards through the asphalt and leafing at impossible speed. They backpedaled, stumbling as the road turned to moss and clover at their feet- and found that another sapling had broken their fall.
Sol thought of themself as a normally-calm person. Fairly unflappable in the face of even the most stressful situations, in fact. This? This was so far beyond the realm of 'expected parameters of bullshit in my life' that there were no longer charts for the readings to go off of.
They responded with all of the dignity and grace one could come to expect of a respected and beloved member of the Vertumna Group.
"What the FUCK."
Help
Most of which made sense enough to them, they supposed, but the problem was- the Stratos colony had had, on landing, a hair shy of three hundred individuals, all included. The Heliopause, when it had crashed, had brought another hundred and fifty or so to the table, after casualties that had numbered in the upper sixties. They had never, at any point in their life, been exposed to more than four hundred-ish individuals humans at once.
Central City had a population had a population (they'd asked) clocking in at over half a million. And then the Alliance had pointed them in the direction of a shopping center, which was nothing at all like a supply depot, where you requisitioned what you needed, traded in some kudos if it was a luxury item, got it nanoprinted, and then went home. No. This place was neon and bright lights and music and so much stuff crammed into every storefront that it was impossible to keep track of it all at once.
Marz would have loved it- Sol was mostly just lost, head turning so often they were sure to strain their neck as they tried- and failed- to take everything in.
Order off the secret menu