Ickis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
loomingterror) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
goneawayworld2020-08-31 10:35 pm
loomingterror) wrote in goneawayworld2020-08-31 10:35 pm
Entry tags:
A Monster Joins the Rig Crew
Who: Anyone and Everyone
What: Ickis getting use to the rig.
Where: The top deck, gardens, and the mysterious yuck puddle currently in front of the showers.
When: After mem-share, before the paintball massacre
Warnings/Notes: The Yuck Puddle, mild gross-out, mild emetophobia in the first option.
1- First Day Jitters
[Standing at the railing surrounding the top deck, it was one thing to hear a bunch of humans claim he wasn't in whatever world he "thought he was from" (he wasn't even willing to touch the claim that he was actually made of "Stuff", one existential breakdown at a time, thank you), but it was something else to look out at the world and see the proof of it.
The idea of multiple worlds or universes was beyond him, it was a thing from comic books, not a real concept he'd ever had to put thought into beyond some minor suspension of disbelief. But looking out at the mix of devastated buildings and alien plant life, well, he sure wasn't in New York anymore, or anywhere else he'd ever heard of. Which made the idea a lot easier to believe, but not any easier to deal with.
All in all, he was handling it fairly well, though. For him. Sure he felt like if he somehow managed to pry his hands off the railing he'd fall off the side into that terrifying landscape and it would just swallow him up, and he couldn't seem to stop mumbling "not happening", kept squeezing his eyes shut and trying to will the world to turn back into the one he knew, and his stomach had half a mind to stress puck over the side of the rig, but hey, at least he wasn't crying….anymore. Actually, he was pretty sure he'd cried himself out already.]
2. Where the Air's too Clean
[The compost has become Ickis' makeshift sleeping quarters of choice for the time being. The room he'd been assigned to was so sterile it was literally hard to breathe after so long. The compost wasn't much better, the air still felt thin, sure didn't compare to the polluted air of good old New York. But something was better than nothing, and it was less open to strange humans. As far as he was aware he really only had the Farmer to deal with most of the time and he wasn't so bad. He was willing to let him stay here so long as he put in work in the gardens, so that was something.
He wasn't big on flora. It felt like every time he was forced to be around large swaths of it the quality of his life went down at least 10%. But it was better than cleaning or 80% of the rest of the work he was forced to do, and he had at least some experience in helping Krumm on his family's mold farm. It couldn’t be that different, right?
Well...yeah it was, but Bob had the good sense to give him easy jobs. So, later in the day it’s not hard to find him doing things like turning new soil or spreading fertilizer around the gardens.]
3. Bones and All
[Trying to figure out the lay of the land he runs into it while exiting a vent into the hall; a grey murky puddle that sat in front of the entrance to the showers, as if purposely placed there to be as inconvenient as possible to anyone trying to get in or out.
It seemed to somehow shift on its own, the bubbles on its surface set in a listless swirl. It was just odd enough and gross enough to catch his curiosity, and pulls him into risking the open area of the hall to check it out. Sitting down close he brings a claw up to one of the larger bubbles to experimentally pop it, but it bursts on its own before he can manage to touch it, a few tiny stray bones burbling up to the surface in its place.
Eyes going wide he quickly pushes himself away from the thing.]
...Was I just threatened by a puddle?
[Quickly switching from alarmed to livid.]
That's it! I have been captured, humiliated and electrocuted, but I am not going to be pushed around by floor sludge!
[He pushes himself off the floor in a puffed up fury.]
I'm gonna-...I'm gonna-...I-I don't know what I'm gonna do but-but-...how do you hurt a puddle?
[Looking down at the lazily swirling muck, it strikes him just how ridiculous this is and the fight drains back out of him.]
Oh...wow, t-this...this is a new low for me…
[The puddle burbles contentedly as if it knows it's already won.]
What: Ickis getting use to the rig.
Where: The top deck, gardens, and the mysterious yuck puddle currently in front of the showers.
When: After mem-share, before the paintball massacre
Warnings/Notes: The Yuck Puddle, mild gross-out, mild emetophobia in the first option.
1- First Day Jitters
[Standing at the railing surrounding the top deck, it was one thing to hear a bunch of humans claim he wasn't in whatever world he "thought he was from" (he wasn't even willing to touch the claim that he was actually made of "Stuff", one existential breakdown at a time, thank you), but it was something else to look out at the world and see the proof of it.
The idea of multiple worlds or universes was beyond him, it was a thing from comic books, not a real concept he'd ever had to put thought into beyond some minor suspension of disbelief. But looking out at the mix of devastated buildings and alien plant life, well, he sure wasn't in New York anymore, or anywhere else he'd ever heard of. Which made the idea a lot easier to believe, but not any easier to deal with.
All in all, he was handling it fairly well, though. For him. Sure he felt like if he somehow managed to pry his hands off the railing he'd fall off the side into that terrifying landscape and it would just swallow him up, and he couldn't seem to stop mumbling "not happening", kept squeezing his eyes shut and trying to will the world to turn back into the one he knew, and his stomach had half a mind to stress puck over the side of the rig, but hey, at least he wasn't crying….anymore. Actually, he was pretty sure he'd cried himself out already.]
2. Where the Air's too Clean
[The compost has become Ickis' makeshift sleeping quarters of choice for the time being. The room he'd been assigned to was so sterile it was literally hard to breathe after so long. The compost wasn't much better, the air still felt thin, sure didn't compare to the polluted air of good old New York. But something was better than nothing, and it was less open to strange humans. As far as he was aware he really only had the Farmer to deal with most of the time and he wasn't so bad. He was willing to let him stay here so long as he put in work in the gardens, so that was something.
He wasn't big on flora. It felt like every time he was forced to be around large swaths of it the quality of his life went down at least 10%. But it was better than cleaning or 80% of the rest of the work he was forced to do, and he had at least some experience in helping Krumm on his family's mold farm. It couldn’t be that different, right?
Well...yeah it was, but Bob had the good sense to give him easy jobs. So, later in the day it’s not hard to find him doing things like turning new soil or spreading fertilizer around the gardens.]
3. Bones and All
[Trying to figure out the lay of the land he runs into it while exiting a vent into the hall; a grey murky puddle that sat in front of the entrance to the showers, as if purposely placed there to be as inconvenient as possible to anyone trying to get in or out.
It seemed to somehow shift on its own, the bubbles on its surface set in a listless swirl. It was just odd enough and gross enough to catch his curiosity, and pulls him into risking the open area of the hall to check it out. Sitting down close he brings a claw up to one of the larger bubbles to experimentally pop it, but it bursts on its own before he can manage to touch it, a few tiny stray bones burbling up to the surface in its place.
Eyes going wide he quickly pushes himself away from the thing.]
...Was I just threatened by a puddle?
[Quickly switching from alarmed to livid.]
That's it! I have been captured, humiliated and electrocuted, but I am not going to be pushed around by floor sludge!
[He pushes himself off the floor in a puffed up fury.]
I'm gonna-...I'm gonna-...I-I don't know what I'm gonna do but-but-...how do you hurt a puddle?
[Looking down at the lazily swirling muck, it strikes him just how ridiculous this is and the fight drains back out of him.]
Oh...wow, t-this...this is a new low for me…
[The puddle burbles contentedly as if it knows it's already won.]