caveofsapphires | Today is the first day of the rest of your lives [ opening post ]

Today is the first day of the rest of your lives [ opening post ]

WHO: EVERYONE. NPCs will be around to actively engage if you so desire.
WHAT: Sleepers wake and begin to figure out just what, exactly, they are supposed to do with themselves. tl;dr: REACTION POST for new characters to get out and mingle.
WHERE: Everywhere. Mostly the living quarters, but really: anywhere you want.
WHEN: The first week, April 1st through April 7th.
WARNINGS: Travis Touchdown (Ryan LeCourt) has quite a mouth on him.
NOTES: This is a serious game, guys. WE’RE SUPER SRS HERE. ~~This may be a lie.~~

Shimmering blue blanketed the underground city as the light reflected off the sapphires in the ceiling. It cast its eerie glow, almost mimicking the effect of light on water without the sort of freeing peace one might feel with the soft ocean waves. Figuring out how deep down the city was located was near impossible when the air was obviously heated to something approaching comfortable, and nothing seemed to echo too far past the quiet hum of the city.

Workers made their way down the street, every one with a Sleeper in tow. Something that would have been unheard of only a few days ago, now more likely than one would think. They intended to start slow, but considering how many others were still in cryo, this was a laidback pace.

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Snide remarks were the sort of remarks Thomas could appreciate, even if he couldn't always counter them the way he would like. He had a position of authority here, so he couldn't get too far out of line... most of the time.

"Not when they're the only thing you remember right now, Mr. Stark. We don't want anyone to get hurt and if people keep insisting their dreams are real, or denying their actual memories, then we're gonna have issues." Thomas tilted his head to the side, as a gesture of emphasis.

"Keep the dream chatter down so we don't reinforce the idea that they might be real. Allow our actual memories to resurface." It made sense. Not that Malcolm planned on doing anything of the sort. "How long, approximately, do you think that will take? How long was it for you? And who told you what to do while you blundered about in a confused fashion?"

"It varies for everybody," Thomas said, breaking one hand away to scratch at his cheek thoughtfully. He shrugged widely before shifting his hands to lace over his torso instead. It looked like he was about two steps away from putting his feet up on the edge of the desk, but for one: the doll was still sitting on the corner. Also, Malcolm was right there and that would be pretty unprofessional.

"The Caretaker helped us out, and now we're here to help you guys."

Vague, if possibly technically true, answers. He might have to get used to that. "Is the Caretaker around to speak to, by any chance?"

Thomas shook his head, and gave a smile that was in no way actually apologetic. "He isn't. Like I said, you'll be dealing with me. If you really want to talk to him, I'd suggest putting a bulletin out."

"So tell me, if you don't mind," started Malcolm, leaning back in his seat again and crossing his legs, "do you have any idea why you--and the rest--were released earlier than others? Why it is a few certain people who are meant to help us Sleepers?"

"Strong sense of teamwork?" guessed Anselmo. "We're good at management? Short end of the stick? We're basically just the skeleton crew here."

Was it perhaps true that some of these people were just as lost as the rest of them? That they woke up believing their dreams and were--what, brainwashed? Drugged? Being controlled in some way?

But they were also just as likely behind all of this. It was frustrating, the lack of progress being made. "I assume you must have files on all of us. To place people in appropriate sections of the workforce." Malcolm managed not to wince when he looked at all the paperwork. Did these people really still use up so much paper? Seemed a shame to leave it all sit out and not get it organized into proper spots. "Do they give more details than our occupations and names?"

Thomas followed his line of sight and shifted the few papers he actually had out. Not out of view, but moved them. Glancing back to Malcolm, he raised a brow and said nothing more on that.

"We do, and they do, but baby steps are the way to go. Trust me on that one."

"Baby steps as in being jerked out of some sort of long-term cryofreeze and told that everything we thought we know for the past more than a century is false and, oh, by the way, here's a brand new world you don't remember and a brand new name that isn't in the slightest familiar, have a nice day, is that the sort of baby stepping you mean?"

The outbreak only served to prompt a large grin from Thomas rather than anger or annoy him. "That's exactly what I mean. We're already taking the smallest steps we can. Any bigger, and your brain might explode from the shock.

"We know that one from experience, by the way. Got a Worker here, learned too much, too fast, went a little..." Thomas paused to simply circle his ear with his pointer finger, giving an accompanying whistle.

"I've seen madder things in my sleep than anything I could read in that file." Crossed arms now. Getting a touch unhappy with all of this.

But Anselmo was likely not going to budge on this topic. A few more questions, then. Less dramatic. "Do you have children?" He only asked because...well...that doll.

"That's not the issue here," Thomas said, looking as though he were trying to come up with some way to explain what he meant.

The thoughtfulness vanished as Malcolm continued on with the conversation and his expression shifted into something much harder and more closed off. All joviality he had was gone. "No. Why?"

A touchy subject. Something to further poke at with a stick later, when he was feeling lucky. Malcolm would likely go back at some point to clarify what the issue exactly was, but he let his genuine curiosity get the better of him, at least for now. "One doesn't see grown men with dolls very often. I thought perhaps you might have or had children."

Thomas let his gaze flicker to the doll, some understanding flooding his features before he let himself relax once again. He still couldn't quite bring himself to return to his previous levels of teasing, but he could at least loosen up.

"Oh, that? It's my assistant's."

"Ah--Miss...Heidrich?" At least that segued nicely into the other topic he had in mind. "I had wondered where she was and if I might meet her at some point. Though one would think she would keep it with her or in her own space. Are the two of you quite close, then?"

"We're partners," Thomas answered simply. What else could he say to indicate their relationship? Nothing, really. "She tends to leave it here if she's not going to work today."

That was...kind of adorable, actually. Malcolm seemed satisfied with that (one of the only things around here that has satisfied him in any way), and gave a nod. "Right, I apologize, then; I'm afraid I derailed the topic a bit. Do enlighten me to what the issue here is."

Edited 2012-04-05 01:14 (UTC)

"What?" For a moment, Thomas's brows furrowed as it looked like the change in topic was more abrupt than he was expecting and now had some trouble finding the original thread. "Oh," he managed eventually. "Right, right. That issue. It's more about keeping a stable environment."

"Keep everyone on the same level of information; keep them from knowing too much too quickly. Keep things calm. I see." He might, later, see if he can sneak about Thomas' desk and what he can get his hands on. "One more question, and then we can get on to business proper. Does anyone actually know or remember what happened to drive us to this cave?"

Thomas shook his head almost regretfully. "Not yet. Probably because it's highly traumatic; a lot of people think it'll be the last thing any of us remember."

No, no, the planet was still standing, still habitable, and had, apparently, only taken 150 years to heal enough to let people out of their stasis. He'd seen highly traumatic when it came to planetary devastation. Someone, somewhere, would have to know the answer, eventually. Perhaps this caretaker...

The momentarily hard and haggard look on his face passed smoothly. "Thank you." It was, of course, very possible that Thomas was just as much a victim as the rest of them. But he couldn't decide on that yet. "I suppose I'm ready to get to work, then."

Thomas tilted his head back, thoughtful, then gave an easy smile as he let the moment pass. "Yeah, sure, why don't we do that? Basically, what you'll be doing here is the stuff we don't have time to. You'll be put on guard for house arrestees and might get sent to investigate smaller disturbances. Easy stuff to start you off."

"Quite." He'd never been a police officer. And while he'd be blind if he couldn't see the similarities, it wasn't a bloody tactical officer on a starship. But he might, then, be able to get in touch with others more easily. "Baby steps, as it were."

"Baby steps," Thomas agreed. "You can go get your uniform from Smith. He should be around here somewhere."

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Today is the first day of the rest of your lives [ opening post ]

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