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Post by Deleted on Jul 27, 2017 18:21:21 GMT -8
 Everything was cold. So cold.
With each ragged inhalation, she could taste the iciness of snow. Of frost. Of ice. Of the cold. Where was she? All she could remember was- was- Basil. That was who she was. That was her name. It didn't necessarily define her, but at least she knew her given name. How did she know that it was her given name? The thousand year old (or more) stifled a groan of pain, too aware of the ache that settled in her body.
The whimper that she fully intended to stifle came out in full force, while her cool breath warmed and melted away some of the frost that was embedded in her coffin of ice. Her mind muggy with pain, the cold, confusion, and half-asleep, Basil let out a little mumbling sigh and tilted her head forward in an exhausted move. Cold. So cold. Why was it cold? The bed of ice she was in felt uncomfortably cold.
Basil exhaled shakily, her frozen eyelashes slowly lifting themselves from her pale face. Why didn't she remember anything? Was it something to do with the ice on this glass? How did she know it was glass, never the less ice? A soft keen escaped her unused throat, ragged and rough from a thousand years of disuse. Breathing in the cold felt golden against her sore throat, easing it and waking her up even more.
Stifling another whimper of pain, Basil slowly eased her left hand up and pressed it against the glass lid of her frozen coffin. Underneath the slightly warmer limb, the female worked her stiff fingers together to get rid of the stiffness that she knew had her body locked up in a frozen state. A light frown tugged at the corners of her mouth, becoming even more of a frown when the female struggled to even push upwards.
With another warm exhalation, Basil took her right hand and positioned it next to it's mirror twin. Mentally steeling herself against the pain she knew was to come, the female vocalized a pained groan as she pushed with all of her might. The extremely old, but young in appearance, female didn't know how much time passed with each movement. However, she let out a relieved smile of victory when the glass creaked and shuddered under the weight.
She would get out of this bed, somehow. NOTES ; N/A |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2017 16:34:31 GMT -8
I knew it was the only way to rise up Cold. So. Cold. But wait... he... he liked the cold, didn't it? A sharp inhale inflated his stiff, burning chest. He? Who was he? Another inhale, ending in a series of painful, wracking coughs. Darkness surrounded him on all sides, oppressive, freezing, so dark. For eons, it had seemed, he had wandered in this dark prison, walking in a snowy, frozen wasteland- no, not snowy- or, perhaps it was, he has no way of knowing, for he had wandered in the dark, his legs moving of their own accord, icy stings against his face registering as snowflakes whipping his cheeks in the dark, but there was no wind to drive them to him. All was still, all was ice, all was darkness. His legs had begun to burn with, not fire, with ice. His fingers had gone numb and stiff, his eyes had felt pried open- or were they glued shut? Was he truly in a dark world, or was he blinded by it? Soon his breathing had stopped, and his heart had slowed, had it stopped too? Was this death, had it finally come for him?
But how could it be death if he still lived? At least, he assumed he lived, for somehow he thought- dreamed, something. Or perhaps it was some sort of wicked purgatory, maybe this was his punishment for his role in the... war? Had there been a war? Over what? What did humans so frequently chose to fight over? What had it been this time? Land? Oil? Or just a general disagreement? Why? so many questions! Another shuddering gasp and ragged coughs, this time causing his entire body to convulse, and wouldn't you know, that hurt. His breath turned in to ragged pants and he began to shiver violently. Slowly, his consciousness began to return to him, and the paralyzing void he had floated in for so, so many years began to dissolve. It was scary, almost, for the void and become almost comforting, almost a gentle cradle that held him so tenderly- even as if forced him forward with no destination.
Another violent series of coughs forced his body to attempt to double over, but when he folded suddenly at the waist, his forehead slammed into something frigid and slick. Pain shot through his face in sharp icicles, a ringing noise and insistent throbbing taking up residence in his skull. His jaw fell open and a deep groan escaped his throat, adding another pain to his body as his raw throat was further scraped by his own voice. Oh, he was definitely awake now- but awake from what? His brain, oh so sore now, or, at least it seemed sore as pain ricocheted through his skull, was fuzzy and confused, he was having quite the time attempting to form any real coherent thoughts. All he could think to do was open his eyes, but he had been in the dark so long, could he give it up now? Perhaps, if he tried hard enough, he could go back to sleep, and rest for a thousand years to come. Perhaps, it he wandered far enough in that void, he could escape, and who knows what could be on the other side. Was the darkness eternal, or would he find everything he could ever want. Could his mother be there? Could his fallen friends be there?
Regardless, he was here- and he was awake. Bracing himself, he slowly allowed his eyelids to rise. It took a surprisingly tremendous amount of effort, having had them closed for so long, and for a brief moment, he feared they really had been glued shut. As soon as that preposterous thought crossed his mind however, the first bits of lights filled his vision- and then, his eyes were open. The air in front of him hung with frost, the wall of ice in front of him- glass- fogged with his stuttering breaths and raw coughs. For a long moment, he just lay there, trying to catch his breath, before panic gripped him. He was locked in a... cryo tank. Slowly memories began to fill him, oh so slowly. For now at least, he remembered he had been frozen. Frozen a long, long time. His body stiff and barely willing to move, he lifted his hands to the glass, fingers stiff, and pressed. At first, it didn't yield. The glass was freezing cold, though his numb hands felt little of the temperature. As his own body heat began to push through the cold- certainly the tank was giving up it's grasp of him, and dispelling the cold as well, it stung the pads of his fingers. Perhaps it was for the best, but he was having none of it.
Mustering everything he had, he shoved against the glass again, until with a pop, hiss, and dull whine, the lid trapping him released and fell away, sucking the breath from his lungs as the pressure change with a sudden and violent force, and the warm air immediately surrounded him. The rapid change in temperature immediately sent his muscles in to spasms and he fell back, groaning and twitching. Time passed, several minutes, an hour, he wasn't sure- after so long wandering in the darkness, what was a little while longer? An eternity when such pain rendered him helpless. With time, however, his muscles relaxed again, and he allowed himself to lay limp on the very bed that had held him for... oh, oh so long. He stared at the ceiling, regaining his thoughts, his memories, his body, his identity, sterile steel and sealed pods similar to his own on all sides. Where was everyone else? Still asleep? Would they wake up soon? Was anyone awake around him? He sat up with excruciating slowness, beginning to scan the room and take in his bearings. How would he get out of here? Shouldn't there be some professional, or some haughty scientist who should be, you know, making sure a thousand years being a popsicle hasn't turned his brain to mush? Or at least offering him some water? What were the current events? Where was his stuff? So many questions. No answers.
1,028 words || Rise up. Rise up. Here he comes. || @jynn |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 28, 2017 17:34:34 GMT -8
The more she pushed on the frozen glass, the more she could hear the cracking beyond it. The cracking, the creaking, the ominous shuddering of the physical door was increasing as more weight was poured into her shoulders. Ah, come on! Basil knew she wasn't equipped with strong muscles, as was evidenced by a brief glance down her torso. She was getting colder, and with a determined huff, Basil leaned against the back of the cryotank and pushed mightily.
With a shuddering groan, the door fell away from her outstretched hands. Briefly surprised, the young woman blinked down at the ground in front of her. Was she in the air? However, her surprise grew as she tumbled forward and into the much warmer environment outside of the coffin of ice. Each deep inhalation to get herself used to the air caused the woman to start coughing. Hacking. Heaving. There was a fire that clawed its way up her throat, a fire that she didn't know would come.
The burning sensation filled her body, and for a long awhile she knew that the pain was slowly abating. She didn't really know what happened, how long it was, where she was until she could catch her breath and blink blearily up at the ceiling. As she had writhed, twitched, and spasmed in agony, Basil hadn't really been much aware of anything really. Except for the burning pain that had decided to take her down with it.
As the pain slowed, and eventually abated to a dull ache, Basil found herself flipping over to the side and taking huge, gasping breaths. Sweet, sweet, air it was. Thank everything that was out there for the blessing that was air! Shakily, Basil pushed her forearms against the ground and forcefully pulled herself upright into a somewhat sitting position. Then, she was all too aware of the bright red strands of hair that drooped against her skin.
It clung to her face, her skin, in a show of the dripping sweat that tasted extremely salty. Why was she sweating- oh. The heat. But oh, it felt oh so mercifully good against what had been previously cold. Basil shivered in delight at the sensation of heat, but it quickly became apparent that she gained a dislike of stickiness and sweat. Maybe she could melt some of the ice? If anything, her intelligence had not been diminished. Nor her ability to speak.
Then why did she only remember her name? She definitely knew the basic functions and knowledge of how things worked. Was it the personal memories that she had forgotten? If anything, that was the only thing that had vanished from her mind. Then a more pressing issue became apparent. There were hundreds of those tanks in front of her, probably another nine in the room she was in. The doors that went to the other containment rooms were just clear enough that she could see many other ones.
Huh. Why weren't they waking up then? She could see a few that were open, and a few more people and animals writhing and gasping for breath and of agony. Basil's awareness of those living beings was drawn to the immediate present, where she noted an incredibly handsome man on the ground just staring blankly up at the ceiling. Tilting her head in confusion, the young/old woman bit her lip and considered the next important route.
"H-h-hi." she rasped faintly, feeling mildly irritated that her throat felt like it was burning and consisted of gritty sand. It actually hurt to speak, but Basil couldn't help greeting the other humanoid next to her.
Humans always had been social beings, after all. Who's to say that Basil just wanted someone to cling to? NOTES ; and she pops out of the coffin of ice! let's see what happens next. ouo |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2017 8:21:37 GMT -8
I knew it was the only way to rise up The sterile metal room spun slightly, reminding him all too clearly off his many blackout drunken evenings in his barracks on base, of the early morning hangovers that plagued him. In fact, everything about the last several... minutes? Hours? Reminded him of those times. Mysteriously sore, dizzy, throat sore and head throbbing, except this time, he wasn't face down on his stiff bed and scratchy sheets, or in a pool of his own vomit at the base of his toilet. A wave of nausea crashed over him, and for a split second he doubted that observation. Perhaps it was some sort of fever dream or drunk delirium. He fell back to the cold floor beneath him, realizing that at some point in his painful spasm fit, he must have rolled out of the cryotank and hit the hard, tile floor. That explained his newest ache, a stabbing, pounding in his right shoulder. Fantastic- best way to start the... morning?
There was no way of telling. From his brief stint upright, he had only seen rows upon rows of tanks similar to his own, flashing lights and buttons beneath towering, though black screened and dead monitors. Turning his head slightly, he fixated on his icy prison and a small, book sized tablet-style monitor attached to the side. It's touchscreen interface contained only rapidly scrolling information that he couldn't decipher- scientist lingo for sure-, a small square boasting his face- goodness he hoped a thousand years frozen hadn't changed that pretty face at all-, some general information on him, and three, flashing red warnings, "Defrosting sequence completed. Depressurization completed. Tank open."
The fog lifted higher from his conscious mind, and the room began to spin a little slower, a little less. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear equally ragged breaths, from several other defrosted ice cream sandwiches of potentially varying species. So, not everyone was awake, but some were? Some animals, some people? Why not all of them- oh, so many questions and seemingly no one to answer them! Where the staff, the flight crew? He felt his eyelids droop a little, all the confusion and pain having left him exhausted. He felt as if he could once again sleep for perhaps another thousand years. Maybe if he climbed back into his silly little test tube, he could go back to being frozen until someone who knew what they were doing came to help him. Maybe bring him some room service and some extra blankets for his troubles.
"H-h-hi." Cecil was not ashamed to admit that his heart rate spiked a little in surprise at the voice, though his only physical reaction was for his heavy, lidded blue eyes to snap open and flick to the source of the voice. Just a few yards away from him initially unnoticed and now commanding his every attention was a ghostly pale woman with a mass of fiery red hair flowing down and around her face, so long it brushed the floor as she hunched, obviously as worn out and exhausted as he felt. It clung to her exposed skin in damp tendrils, the heat of the room so massively in contrast with the ice filled slumber they had both slept in. His eyes raked her from the floor up, starting at her feet, and slowly ascending every inch of her until he met her eyes. She was petite- extremely petite. If he were standing, he reckoned, she'd perhaps only reach his chest, and he could probably wrap most of his hand around her throat, and his fingers nearly connect on the other side. His gaze finally rested on her strikingly green eyes as he finished his inspection. She was pretty- really pretty, though, he found most women attractive in one way or another, so perhaps he wasn't the best judge. It wasn't something he dwelt on, just accepting the stir as he came to the conclusion that, yeah, she looked good. She'd look better in his bed.
But, alas, no bed, and instead, some possibly ridiculously primitive world for a bunch of wannabe frozen microwave meals. Internally he shuddered. What sort of life lived on this planet. How many of them would view them as a snack? That immediately killed any kindling fire in his blood, and instead brought his brain back to the present. When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice came out in a hoarse, raspy groan, "Hey pretty popsicle, any idea what's going on around here? Did we make it in one piece?" That ended in a few more weak, spasming coughs. He rolled on to his side and propped himself up on one arm, glancing around the room. He had been right in his first analysis, some meters over, some animals squirmed in agony, somewhere, a distinctly human voice moaned and then went eerily silent. He frowned and sat upright to get a better vantage point, though his very bones screamed their protest and the world decided to do another acrobatics show. Through the pain, he grinned grimly up at her and winked, "Gotta say, I've stayed at budget motels with better accommodations and customer appreciation. Could do with some room service. Lovely view though."
868 words || Rise up. Rise up. Here he comes. || @jynn
Notes: This is gonna be fun I think. |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 31, 2017 18:42:47 GMT -8
Her vision swam, blurring and blending in together with the oddly clean room. The next thing she knew, Basil was staring at what looked like to be a metal ribcage in the corner of the room. A radiator? Isn't that what it was called? A brief frown tugged at her mouth, before her eyes flicked over to the man on the ground. The one she had greeted. Oh, he was undoubtedly handsome. Dark hair spilled against the light gray floor, and in the back of her mind, Basil assumed it had once been white. Impossibly thick, dark as ink eyebrows gave his already impossibly blue eyes an even brighter look. The man's beard and mustache seemed just as thick, just as full of hair as his eyebrows. He was probably a good foot and a half taller than her, as she suspected that she would come up to his chest if he stood up.
Basil merely blinked at the man's raspy voice, perhaps thinking of something warm to go sleep in. However, the heat outside of the cryotanks was making her extremely drowsy. Slowly tilting her head, the young woman pretty much drank in the sight of another living human being without registering what was going on. Popsicle. Did he realize how odd it made him out to be? Stifling a snort of humor, Basil detachedly swept her bright green gaze around her body with a perpetually mild look pasted on her face. "I'm relatively sure that I have all body parts attached, thanks." she murmured slightly, her bright green eyes gaining a sort of faint mischievous sparkle to them.
The young woman could feel the sweat against her skin, her nose crinkling in distaste as her really bloody long hair practically clung to her face, neck, and arms. Frowning lightly, she pulled at the long sleeve of the... bodysuit? she was wearing and gave it a mildly perturbed look. She was barely paying attention to the man as it was, and with not being able to remember anything particularly about her family and friends, she was more focused on her surroundings. "I think if we were to get room service, it would be dead room service. That kind of thing isn't particularly pleasant." she replied absently, her voice slowly losing the hoarse quality and getting clearer the longer she used her voice box.
"I'm sure it's a fantastic view, though. See anything particularly beautiful?" Basil felt remarkably sarcastic, though it was probably due to the fact that she was grumpy about spending a period of who knows how long in that blasted coffin of ice. "I wonder if anyone died in those things." Basil wondered, feeling morbidly curious and remarkably bland about the entire event. Why was she even awake? Why were there animals on this vehicular craft? Any curiosity felt dulled by the detachment she felt, and as she retreated further in her thoughts her bright green eyes developed a slightly dreamy quality with a hint of mild glaze. NOTES ; Heeeere's your reply! Sorry it took me so long. |
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Post by Deleted on Aug 2, 2017 14:59:15 GMT -8
I knew it was the only way to rise up
Well, the woman seemed amused- and that was a positive. "I'm relatively sure that I have all body parts attached, thanks. I think if we were to get room service, it would be dead room service. That kind of thing isn't particularly pleasant." He made a slight show- perhaps not as excited and dramatic as he would have if he was at 100% function- of patting himself down, sitting up into a fully upright position to give himself a once over, starting at his chest and arms and moving down to the rest of his body, not sighing with relief until he had patted down his crotch."Yeah, all accounted for here. I think that's an A+, mission success in my eyes." His body, though mercifully intact, was stiff as a board and surprisingly sore, convincing his drowsy mind to not yet rise to his feet- hell, he doubted anything could get him up, the very idea seemed daunting and exhausting. He mused over the crew again, glancing around and seeing only similarly frozen, and thawing, steel grey bodysuit wearing people.
He frowned, cocking his head and looking back to the mysterious woman. "Well, too hot for the free coffee and who really wants instant eggs and soggy bacon, because that's the quality food I'm expecting at this one-star budget inn for icicles. I'll take nothing over zombie-staff, though." Except zombies weren't real and he was actually mildly concerned. IF the crew weren't there to handle the situation, what did that say for the ship overall? Had they crashed or suffered some other catastrophic failure? The power inside the ship seemed to be working to an extent, some lights flickered periodically, and he was unsure if the cryotanks were on a timer, or if the power was failing and forcing them open. His gaze flicked back to his tank's screen and, no, that was still on- but if they were on a timer, why was it so staggered? Her voice cut his thoughts but didn't derail his train of thought, "I'm sure it's a fantastic view, though. See anything particularly beautiful?"He grinned wider this time, loving that she was playing along, though he was dead serious. " Oh absolutely. You know, I'm sexually attracted to popsicles. I'm ice-sexual." He bit back his own laugh at his own stupid joke, turning back to his internal dwellings. "I wonder why we're awake. Clearly we landed- relatively whole, but the crew isn't here, and only some tanks are opening."
"I wonder if anyone died in those things." Against his better judgement, he slowly got to his knees, and hoisted himself to his unstable feet. Cecil cursed under his breath, hating the feeling of weakness, helplessness. If he was anything, he wasn't weak, this was an alien feeling. Staggering to the tank next to his, he found it sealed shut, the screen damaged and unreadable, and the young man inside frozen solid. He peered at the face for a long time, gauging life and realizing it was hopeless- frozen people didn't move or breathe, or show any of the standards signs of life. He glanced over his shoulder at the woman, bracing himself against the pod and knocking on the glass for emphasis. "Probably." He shrugged, unbothered. Death didn't concern him, for he had seen far too much of it. From his upright position now, he was able to see clear across the room, and some of the writing creatures on the ground. Some had gone eerily still and he grimaced. "I mean, I doubt they died from the freezing- company that sent us out here seemed unconcerned with that. I'm more concerned with why some of them seem to be dying on the floor, and the missing crew and their apparent lack of concern with, well, those deaths." He motioned to a nearby dog, unmoving on the ground. "Guess not everyone handles defrosting well."
He raked a hand through his thick black hair, an anxious habit, and suddenly remembered his other anxious habit, stored away in his luggage. His luggage. Everything that mattered to him in the world, especially in this new world, packed away in one tiny little missing bag. Panic shot through him, mild for now, and kept under wraps, but still his felt his heart give a few hard, painful thumps in his chest. He swallowed it back, deciding to let cooler heads prevail, but also acknowledging that he would not be leaving this ship without his pack. Slowly he began to look around, the fog in his brain not clearing enough for him to remember exactly where they said they would keep their belongings. Was it in another room, buried deep within the ship? Or... He squinted and turned his attention back to the girl. "Hey, Popsicle, remember where they stored our stuff before we went on this suicide mission? I'm ready to get my shit and get out of here."
809 words || Rise up. Rise up. Here he comes. || @jynn
Notes: I've decided he will call her Popsicle like, forever. |
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