Who: Newton Geiszler and Open What: Sitting and thinking When: Sunday evening Where: The boat dock Warnings: TBA Status: Open/On-going
Newt didn't know what to make of the hotel. It was freedom, to him, probably moreso than it was to most of the others. Being at the hotel meant no longer being held prisoner in the Shatterdome -- and really, he knew he'd have always been there. After all, where else could they have held him? Safely, at any rate. Alright, there were probably a couple other places, but they were all places he knew. Places whose schematics he'd seen or defenses he'd gotten past just because he could or in one case, had been there already. At least his exposure to the Moyulan Shatterdome had been minimal.
He supposed he didn't really blame the PPDC for what they'd done. After all, they weren't the ones who'd spent a decade under Precursor control, slowly losing what ability they had to resist. He'd stopped trying in pretty short order, honestly, because what was the point? If he helped the Precursors come through, if he got them through, then the world would end and so would he.
All in all, not that bad a deal. For him, at least.
Newt had quickly realized in the course of his explorations that the boat dock was more peaceful to him than anything else; he wasn't sure why, but he wasn't going to argue it. Anything that quieted the Precursors and their influence a little was something he could roll with. Oh, he didn't mind their influence anymore not really, but it was just so damnably overwhelming. Anything that pulled them back a little was helpful. At least, right now. Talk to him again when he'd been there for a while and his feelings might be different. Who knew, maybe he'd want to raze it all to the ground in a week.
But for the time being? He was content to sit up above, in one of the plastic chairs, feet kicked up on the railing.