Liquid was incredibly pissed off about this whole decontamination thing, at least until he found out his clothes weren't just heading straight for the incinerator. Then he was only mildly miffed. As long as he got to keep his coat.
Only now he was standing there completely naked. He never liked wearing shirts... but he did kind of like wearing pants. Sure, he didn't mind showing off, but right here? Right now? When all he was planning to do was come back onto the ship?
"Never exactly planned to be an exhibitionist."
[B. STAY SICK]
"Don't tell me it's parasites," Liquid said, with a laugh that suggested some sort of inside joke.
Maybe he'd already had run-ins with suspicious contaminant sorts of things. But if it was something harmless, and the decontamination was taking care of it, then he wasn't going to pay it too much mind. He had things to gather. Some for the ship, but mostly for his own little stash of material to improvise some weapons out of. One knife wasn't enough.
Of course, going back to Del Pascia meant he had to deal with that annoying AI's blathering about how great the damn place was, but he was going to deal with it and make sure he could make himself a good set of weapons. You know, just in case.
Still, he might have been a bit curious about the contaminant itself.
[C. PUNISH YOUR HEAD]
The depths of Del Pascia were even spookier when a couple of mutated zombie things were dragging you around into them, apparently. Oh, Liquid had tried to fight back. Unfortunately he'd tried to fight back alone. Enough of these guys could drag even the strongest person back into the depths of the place.
The biggest problem was, Liquid was starting to think they had a point.
Or was he? Maybe he'd always thought that way.
No, he hadn't. This wasn't-- it-- no-- but they did, didn't they? A bit like back in the Middle East, except-- no, that was a bad thing. This was a bad thing.
This was a good thing?
And it was about that point that the (creatures? zombies? friends?) stopped dragging him and left him there where he was.
It might have been a few moments before he heard something, or a few hours. A few days. A few years. What did time matter here? He just had to wait until. Until. Until what? But there was a sound. There was.
He froze. Turned towards the sound. He barely even registered who it was as he stared, simply stayed silent until finally he spoke, voice a bit halting.
Liquid Snake
Liquid was incredibly pissed off about this whole decontamination thing, at least until he found out his clothes weren't just heading straight for the incinerator. Then he was only mildly miffed. As long as he got to keep his coat.
Only now he was standing there completely naked. He never liked wearing shirts... but he did kind of like wearing pants. Sure, he didn't mind showing off, but right here? Right now? When all he was planning to do was come back onto the ship?
"Never exactly planned to be an exhibitionist."
[B. STAY SICK]
"Don't tell me it's parasites," Liquid said, with a laugh that suggested some sort of inside joke.
Maybe he'd already had run-ins with suspicious contaminant sorts of things. But if it was something harmless, and the decontamination was taking care of it, then he wasn't going to pay it too much mind. He had things to gather. Some for the ship, but mostly for his own little stash of material to improvise some weapons out of. One knife wasn't enough.
Of course, going back to Del Pascia meant he had to deal with that annoying AI's blathering about how great the damn place was, but he was going to deal with it and make sure he could make himself a good set of weapons. You know, just in case.
Still, he might have been a bit curious about the contaminant itself.
[C. PUNISH YOUR HEAD]
The depths of Del Pascia were even spookier when a couple of mutated zombie things were dragging you around into them, apparently. Oh, Liquid had tried to fight back. Unfortunately he'd tried to fight back alone. Enough of these guys could drag even the strongest person back into the depths of the place.
The biggest problem was, Liquid was starting to think they had a point.
Or was he? Maybe he'd always thought that way.
No, he hadn't. This wasn't-- it-- no-- but they did, didn't they? A bit like back in the Middle East, except-- no, that was a bad thing. This was a bad thing.
This was a good thing?
And it was about that point that the (creatures? zombies? friends?) stopped dragging him and left him there where he was.
It might have been a few moments before he heard something, or a few hours. A few days. A few years. What did time matter here? He just had to wait until. Until. Until what? But there was a sound. There was.
He froze. Turned towards the sound. He barely even registered who it was as he stared, simply stayed silent until finally he spoke, voice a bit halting.
"Are you staying too?"
[D. WILDCARD]
[got other ideas? let's go!]