Reverie: IC Inbox

[donkeyballs]

 

IC INBOX
text // voice // video


Alright, go ahead and leave me a message, an' I'll get back to you soon as I can.

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[donkeyballs]

Yeah. You ain't wrong.

Bar.

[Which is where Alex will appear, ten minutes later, face grim as he heads straight for the counter.]

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo appears only a few minutes later with a harried expression and his communicator in his hands. This has not been a good day. Still, he summons a weary smile as he strides towards the bar, reaching out to clap Alex on the shoulder as he approaches. ]

Hey, sailor. [ Then with as much bright, breeziness as he can muster this morning: ] I'm not going to like this story, am I?

[donkeyballs]

Hey, cowboy. [Alex's clasps Apollo's elbow in turn, giving it a warm squeeze of greeting, despite the fact that he still looks pretty damn grim.]

No, you really ain't. And I ain't gonna enjoy telling you, either, but it's gonna need to be said. [He let go, before grabbing a bottle from behind the counter.]

So how much have I already told you about the protomolecule? [Because that's what everything comes back to, every time.]

[solarcharged]

Uh, blue, weird, fused a bunch of people to a ship?

[ That's about as much as he remembers, anyway. It's been a long two weeks. While Alex fetches a bottle Apollo manages to find some (relatively) clean and grime-free glassware. ]

Sounded pretty gross, all in all...

[donkeyballs]

[He leans over to pour them both out a glass.]

Gross ain't even half way it. [He frowns.] By itself, sure, it'd be gross as all hell - but it might have been containable. By itself, it's just - hell, I don't know what it is. An organism? A substance? The point it, by itself it seems to just grow the way a fungus would - direct itself toward energy, drag in what it can on the way. But it ain't just by itself. Someone found some, and wanted to know what it did.

[He looked up to meet Apollo's eyes grimly.]

Wanted to know how to turn it into a weapon.

[solarcharged]

Jesus Christ. [ Apollo's words are murmured, distracted. When he meets Alex's eyes it's with a wary and quietly horrified expression. ]

So, what -- they experimented on it?

[donkeyballs]

[He put down the bottle and picked up the glass, though he just sort of held it and didn't drink from it yet.]

Wish I could put it like that. [Muttered to himself] But no.

They experimented with it.

[He let that sink in a few seconds before he continued.]

Don't know what happened on Phoebe- the whole moon got destroyed during the cover up - but I know what they did with it afterwards. They knew that it grew with access to radiation, and they knew it - I don't know how to put it - that it used humans, to grow itself.

So they thought, hey, you know what I think, let's give a hundred thousand belters on an asteroid a lethal dose of radiation and a bit of the protomolecule and see what the hell happens.

[solarcharged]

[ There's a hell of a difference between with and on. Apollo stares at his glass, untouched and full to the brim, as he tries to process what it is Alex is actually trying to tell him. It doesn't take a genius to guess that the end of the story is just as horrifying as the beginning. 'Radiation plus protomolecule plus innocent humans' can't be a good thing.

Experimentation. Mass experimentation on unwilling subjects. Apollo has no idea if the asteroid bit is relevant but the fact that it's in space is close enough to hit home and throw their own imprisonment on this station in to a grossly terrible light. ]

So what are you saying? [ His words sound harsh but it's not because of Alex himself, but the gradual dawning realisation of what he's trying to say. Apollo can put two and two together and read between the lines of what the other man's story may mean for what's happening here. But Apollo needs to hear it. ]

Are you saying -- do you mean that might happen here?

[donkeyballs]

I'm sayin' that there's a good chance it already is. [ His face is grim. ]

Not - not the protomolecule, mind. I haven't seen a trace of it since I arrived. But us bein' the fodder for some kind of experiment?

Yeah. Yeah, I can see it.

[solarcharged]

[ Apollo leans heavily on the bar, his knuckles curled in to fists. He's seen some pretty fucked up things, human experimentation included, but not on the scale that Alex is suggesting. Not on innocent people. ]

Well. I'm sorry, but fuck that.

[ If it sounds like outright rejection, then that's because it is. Apollo refuses to accept that that is what is going to happen here. Whatever happened in Alex's world isn't allowed to happen here. Not if he (and his fists) have anything to do with it. ]

Not going to happen. Not on our watch, right?

[donkeyballs]

[ He looks a little surprised, at the first statement - as if Apollo just straight up doesn't believe him - but he relaxes visibly after the second, and offers a solemn nod. ]

I sure as hell ain't lettin' it happen again, if I get any damn say in the matter.

Just wish I had any damn idea what this could be otherwise. You said somethin' about a prison, but - for what?

[solarcharged]

Oh, god, I don't know. [ He drags a hand through his hair in weary exasperation, scraping it away from his face with a shoulder-sagging sigh of exasperation. The prison theory is just that - a theory. Every minute a new one seems to spring up to replace it, just as horrifying as before. ]

All I know is why the hell else would you have a 'chief warden' on your staff list? I mean - they're trying to save their world, right? That's what the welcome message said at least. And I have no idea how a prison fits in to that exactly but I know I don't like that combination...

[donkeyballs]

There might be a brig somewhere on this station that we ain't found yet.

[ His expression is grim. ] 'Cause far as I can tell, this place ain't built like any prison I've ever seen.

[solarcharged]

Yeah. How many prisons have a bar? [ Apollo raises his glass, hitherto untouched, with a wry smile: ]

Here's to surviving this fucking place, whatever it is.

[donkeyballs]

[ Alex raised his glass to meet it, tapping it against Apollo's. ]

Survivin' this place and gettin' the hell home.

[solarcharged]

Amen to that.

[ Apollo takes a drink, squinting against the harsh burn of it. ]

You know another thing that's awful about this place? The kids. [ Hurriedly: ] Not that I don't like kids! But who the hell kidnaps a bunch of teenagers and brings them to a place like this? Adults are one thing, but bringing children...

[ He trails off, shaking his head. ]

That's messed up.

[donkeyballs]

[ He took his drink, and then lingered on it while Apollo spoke, hiding the way his expression darkened by lingering with it at his lips. Eventually, though, he lowered it. ]

I know what you mean.

But never seems to stop anyone from involvin' them, long as they ain't kids from their planet.

[solarcharged]

Yeah...

[ With one hand wrapped firmly around his glass he leans on the bar and worries at his hair with the other, threading long strands through his fingers as he thinks. ]

And there's the one teenager - Dirk - he hasn't even got a world left to go back to. So while we're all desperately trying to get back to our homes, he hasn't got one. He's got nothing. Not even a family...

[donkeyballs]

What?

[ That gets him to look up sharply, glass tapping the counter a little too hard. It's a single word, but there is a lot conveyed in that word. Surprise, horror, and 'where is this kid, I'm going to adopt him right now.]

[solarcharged]

Yeah. [ Apollo nods, grimly. His reaction had been exactly the same. ] Some kind of apocalypse happened, I don't know. I think everyone died except him and a few other people. It sounded bad.

But I offered him a world to call home if he wants it. His friends, too. It's not perfect but at least it's something.

[donkeyballs]

[ He deflates a little, but nods, slowly. ]

Right. Yeah. I'd offer mine, but...

[ He frowned down at his glass.]

Bobbie told me they finally started nukin' each other. Earth and Mars. 20 million dead already. Hell if I know if there'll even be planets to go home to. And space ain't a place for a kid.

[solarcharged]

[ It takes him a moment to put two and two together - Bobbie, that must be her name. The one with the power armour. ]

Shit, really? What's the cause of it all?

[donkeyballs]

Same damn shit.

The experiment I told you 'bout? It wasn't the last one. They made these.. Hybrids, is what we call 'em. Took kids and--

[ His fist tightens on his glass, chest clenching sharply. Nope. Can't think about that. Not right now. Not while Mei is still out there. ]

Bobbie was on Ganymede, where they let one of those things go. Just t' see how many marines it could rip through. Earth and Mars started shootin' each other in orbit. They managed to stop fightin - the Jupiter system was on Martian lock down, last I remember - but apparently it got worse.

[solarcharged]

[ Experiments on children. It seems the multiverse is full of sick fucks in every world. With a flush of impotent anger Apollo turns his furrowed gaze on his own glass, chewing back an expletive-riddled reaction with Herculean effort.

This is exactly why people like Apollo exist, he knows it well. People like him exist to take out the bastards responsible for pulling horrific acts - science experiments or mindless wars or pointless nuclear bombing - against innocent people. Twenty million is too, too much. ]

In my world, the President of the United States nearly started an intergalactic war. [ He says evenly, eventually. ] He killed millions of innocent aliens, all because he wanted to play with a new scientific toy that he thought he understood...

[ Apollo sounds cool and factual, a stark contrast to the simmering anger beneath his skin. ]

I don't mind admitting that we killed him. He had to be removed. The galaxy was better off without him.

[ Sometimes people in charge have got to be killed for the good of the normal people, y'know? ]

[donkeyballs]

[ He notes the 'aliens' but he doesn't comment on it. Not now. Question for later. He knows if he questioned it now, it might come off as him caring less, if they weren't human.

But life has been pretty damn strange, here, and that isn't an impression he wants to leave. So he focuses on the important parts. ]

... Can't say I blame you. [ Low. Tight. ] Or that I wouldn't do the same, if I had Errinwright in my sites. ... But I ain't sure it would matter. Kill one of em, there's eighty more waitin' to replace 'em and take up the cause.