Jacob Davies (cryogenetic) wrote in reality_dome, @ 2014-06-02 21:20:00 |
|
|||
When he woke up, he was vaguely disoriented, but he heard the sound of Mike and Jaime's voices drifting down through the closed door. So he was still in their cabin. Sure. Why not? It was where he'd fallen asleep. After stretching and wandering to the shower and dressing, he drifted out to see what they were up to. He snagged some of the food Jaime had liberated and he'd listened to the story of the trial and error of that morning. Because, you know, why repeat a simple wall when you could force people to coordinate efforts to get into the Keep. When he thought about it too much, it terrified him. Why were they pushing the 'work together' stick now? Were they planning on ripping everyone apart later? He heard, too, that Otis was gone but he'd at least left an explanation. That sucked, and Jake knew it was one more blow to Dahlia because he was pretty sure they'd been close. That news to him was more distressing than the thing about the Keep being shut off again. They'd already figured out that solution, after all. It was apparently just a matter of repeated teamwork. All week long. It did make him wonder if they were going to continue the established pattern -- if this scenery would be present next week as well, but with something else. Like poisonous butterflies or airborne hallucinogens. He hoped not, because he still hadn't completely recovered from the phobias. He didn't have nightmares or anything like that, but he did have the occasional flashback to it. He wasn't ready for anything mental again. And who was to say the dome was the worst of this week? It had (apparently) been (more or less) easy enough to crack and Jake was sure they'd settle into some sort of pattern or just learn to communicate. Make runs when the doors were open and shit like that. At least the weather wasn't too disagreeable. It was cool, overcast, and while it was still too warm for his tastes, it wasn't unbearable. So he was exploring. He'd given himself a coat of ice on his bare skin, and it glistened a little as the surface of it gave in to the temperatures and began to melt. It made his arms stiff though, and even as he walked along he played with thinning the ice at the joints so he could bend his arms. He was finding though that it was difficult to move because the ice was snug against his arms which made flexing at all, even with a simple motion, tightened it uncomfortably. It was something to work on though; if he could wander around in a suit of ice, it was a little like armor. And it might help him on the hot days. If they threw a desert at them again, he could coat himself with ice before leaving a building and hopefully not die on the hike back and forth. From where he stood, it was a useful thing. Preoccupied as he was with his ice experiment, he did manage to watch his footing -- but not a lot else. He did glance up now and again to make sure he wasn't going to crash into things or trip over things, but mostly he was rubbing his hands over his arms to work the ice into a more reasonable something to wear. |