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V
09-15-2010, 01:00 PM
Mature for possible themes. May include violence, blood, explicit language.

In Space
OOC Thread (http://role-player.net/forum/showthread.php?t=6936)
No Enemy. No Danger. Just Space.
Space and a few souls.

2 Minutes After

Evan's eyes opened; his breathing was forced. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he repeated over and over. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to drift welcoming himself to a fate inside the endless black; whilst his mouth whispered the same word over and over. His fingers twitched and body shook with a need to curl into a ball. The suit didn't allow for any such actions, not what Even wanted. “Shit, shit, shit... shi-” he croaked calmingly and gradually opened his eyes.

15 seconds had passed. 2 minutes and 15 seconds. Evan grumbled and remembered protocol for such a situation. He withdrew his left arm back into the comforts of the main body and clicked a button to run diagnostics on the situation he was in.

-Oxygen at 100% estimated time remaining 12 hours.-
-Suit integrity at maximum.-
-Jet Fuel at Maximum estimated usage remaining 4 hours at maximum strength.-

12 hours until he was dead; that was reassuring. 12 hours whilst he waited for someone to rescue him. Even though there was no one coming. He knew. He knew that there was little to be done, not after the explosion. It ripped through the station destroying everything. Probably. Evan didn't know yet. He was looking at the inside whites of the suit afraid to be drawn out to the darkness; there was a game to be had there Evan told himself – a quiet egging himself on until he broke free of the barriers. But if he looked into the darkness, did that mean he lost or did it mean he won?

Evan waiting for himself to respond before checking the time again. 3 and a half minutes since. Since he and the others had been racing against time to exit the station. The escape pod had been the first option, but it had been broken and they hadn't two of the vessels. Emergency alarms still rang in his head from the mad escape. Evan remembered clinging to the outside rungs of the craft as the vacuum pulled the exposed air out into Space. Waiting until the last moment so he wouldn't be pulled away into the distance. And then letting go pushing away.

And then closing his eyes.

Courageous wasn't Evan Woods he clicked a button....

-Oxygen at 100% estimated time remaining 12 hours.-
-Suit integrity at maximum.-
-Jet Fuel at Maximum estimated usage remaining 4 hours at maximum strength.-

“Shit,” he snarled and tore his eyes from the inside of his suit to the outside. Shrapnel passed by on their way into the unknown, large pieces of metal twirling in slow arcs catching the odd light. Damaged and torn into wreckage. He shied away from the pieces that passed him by in wide circles. A large beam whirled passed causing Evan to use the jets on his suit to manoeuvre around safely. Twisting through space brought him into sight with the destroyed station.

Twinkling in then area of the explosion was a husk of metal and subjects. Small pieces has separated and began to drift just as larger pieces had done before them. The separate rooms of the station had been destroyed to create one larger mass – but the locations of each were easily identifiable to any of whom had lived there for any period of time. Evan gazed at the place he'd slept in for nearly two years. The place where he had talked with his fellow officers and played games to pass the time. He rolled his eyes to the far end of the station where what remained of the station's operating room. Nothing much remained.

Perhaps a radio could still work..... Maybe. If there was a power source still remaining. The chances of both Evan thought was slim.

Amazingly inside the wreckage formerly space station was the escape pod appeared undamaged. Untouched from the incident, it rattled against the enclosure of metal remaining stable. The craft had been built for four with two points of entry; from the distance one of the doors looked jammed closed.

Littered throughout the husk were small fragments of destroyed substance.

Looking at the former station brought chills through Evan's body, he only now remembered his fellow station operators. And he felt alone without them. It edged his mind with growing anxiety – what if he was the only one to survive the explosion? The only one to float in space until death took?

His voice little more that a croak with an edge of nervousness he asked the space around him using the suit's inbuilt radio, “anyone else out here?” Evan's voice ended as a depressed whisper.

While he waited for a response Evan clicked a button...

-Oxygen at 100% estimated time remaining 12 hours.-

12 hours Before

The Alarm went, ringing several times before a hand ceased the noise. Evan rolled himself to the edge of his bed as the lights gradually brought his chamber back from pure darkness. He flicked his legs over the edge of the bed.

Another day in isolation. A letter was beside its opened envelope, the paper half crinkled but still very readable. The folded paper at the top read:

Dear Mr. Woods
Your Application for retirement from duty within the company has been accepted. You must remain at the Station: Serviou 3-X for several months until a replacement officer can be found. You will be contacted when...

The document was several months old now, but recent news from the previous resupplying ship told Evan that he would be leaving the station next month. Another day waiting for the end of the growing nightmare to come.

Evan washed and cleaned himself up before emerging from his quarters. There were still several hours before his time on duty was to begin but he liked to wake early and prepare. Outside his room was the common area as well as doors leading to his co-workers rooms, and facilities. He pushed through one of the other rooms coming into the tiny kitchen and food storage areas. From plain packaging he took some flaked cereal and poured artificial milk into a bowl. It was bland but he didn't want anything more.

Sitting down to eat his meal in the common room Evan flicked on the screen to play through a disc worth of last month's episodes of a show he watched. He hadn't got to this one yet, it was a comedy but not one of his favourites. Usually he lasted two weeks before he'd watch all the shows he wanted to or got bored. Then it was back to reading in his spare time, or playing games. Or just talking to the other off duty officer.

They hadn't yet risen today it seemed. Evan shrugged at that and returned to his cereal waiting for his turn at duty to come.

The Fox
09-15-2010, 07:24 PM
12 Hours Before the Crash

Kia opened her eyes lazily. Darkness. Sometimes her lights didn't work. She growled and clapped her hands, sometimes it worked when she did that. They came on slowly and Kia sighed in relief, she hated the darkness... Although she WAS living in it.

Kia rubbed her eyes and got out of bed. She shook her head and looked around her chamber. Nothing great, it's not like she could decorate it. Kia smiled thinly and walked over to her "door", opening it quietly. She pushed back her long hair and looked around for something to eat... Anything. All there was for was cereal, like usual. She moaned, anything... But that. Kia grabbed it and poured it into a cup. No milk. She walked over and sat, bored. Like always, nothing special would happen today. Of course, Kia had to act happy and kind, for her friends. She sighed and shook her cup gently, she grabbed some pieces and ate them quickly. Just then, did she notice what she was eating. 'Yuck.' It had a greenish tint, she crinkled up her nose, but looked away and continued to eat. Kia looked up at the TV and over to Evan, "Hey, Evan. Morning... Or night... Whatever it is out here." She gave a small growl. Sometimes she wondered how she wasn't already crazy. Maybe she was.

Kia continued to eat until the cup was empty. After her small-talk with Evan and finishing up, she would go clean herself up. Her hair was looking strange, most likely, and she was still in her sleeping clothes. She shook her head, nobody here cared.

12 Hours Later

Kia breathed heavily as she floated through the abandoned space. Her cheeks were warm but wet, and her eyes were blood-shot. Kia never cried. She shook her head violently and looked around, somehow, she knew she would die. No one would come rescue her... Or the others. She sniffed and opened her eyes wide, where were they? Had they survived? The explosion was drastic, how could anyone had survived? Well, she did. Kia breathed in, breathed out, slowly. She turned her suit to look around, the pitch blackness was no help, but she had to see... See if they were there. Suddenly, she heard what sounded like a croak. Kia gave a small, nervous cry.

Kia looked around for something. Then, she remembered her radio. She smiled lightly, one of them was alive. Even if she was happy, nothing stopped her from giving off a worried and scared tone as she spoke into the inbuilt radio, "I'm here... Are you OK? Where are you?" She then breathed in, breathed out, faster.

Wattz
09-25-2010, 05:07 PM
2 Minutes After

One last cigarette.

Funny how cigarettes were the first thing to come to mind. She wasn’t even sure if she really would die out here, but the chance was there. There was always that chance. The smoke would quickly eat at her oxygen levels, severely lessening her chance of survival. Lazy brown eyes watched the smoke slither into the air, and Oz couldn’t bring herself to care.

But if there really was that chance that she’d never be found, she’s rather have nicotine in her system.

She wasn’t brave, she wasn’t hoping for death, she wasn’t begging to be rescued, she just… was. Exhaustion came to mind, but she was considerably less irritable than she’d been while on the station. It would probably be better for her rescuer anyways if she were at least somewhat less ornery.

Then there was static. Oz hadn’t even touched the radio yet, and already there was a signal. She breathed in deeply and sighed, reaching over lazily to the little radio and pressing a button.

“Yeah, someone’s out here.”

12 Hours Before

Oz would do anything for a fucking cigarette.

Her fingers stretched so much they popped, aching to grab her lighter and flick the promising flame that would send sweet, sweet nicotine coursing through her lungs. At this point, Oz didn’t know which was worse: getting caught by the bastards who were after her or dying due to toxic deprivation.

But the big, fat red “No Smoking” signs mocked her everywhere she went, and she made sure to let them know every time that she was none too pleased with their antics, thank you very much. Hundreds of menacing stares a day. That was more than enough intimidation for any “No Smoking” sign.

The woman burst into the common room without grace, her big black boots thumping on the ground and with both hands stuffed into her pockets, brushing against the cigarette boxes she’d managed to sneak on board (sneaking things around was practically her business). Two of her co-workers were already in there, but the acknowledgement she gave was a half-hearted nod and a grunt. Surely her personality had grown progressively more irritable over the course of the trip. Oz didn’t even care enough to eat that foul bowl they dared to name cereal.

She flopped down in the nearest chair, a usual ritual of hers. Oz was getting caught in the same routine day after day, numbing her mind even more than it already was. Pushing the chair back, she propped her boots up on the table with two loud "thunks", then she closed her eyes, wishing desperately that she could sleep out the rest of the time, dreaming of whirls of cigarette smoke.

WordsofWisdom
09-27-2010, 05:49 PM
2 Minutes After

Spiraling quickly through space, the same hunk of debris flashing through his peripherals over and over again, and blood spattering in little tiny globs due to a cut that had opened during the incident was all it took for Adam to regain consciousness.

He lifted a hand, touching the debris pile, the action slowing his nauseating spiral, and started to take account of his limbs.

His right hand felt... bruised, his left eye was swollen shut from the same injury that was currently floating around his field of vision, and his legs felt stretched too thin, the weariness settling in for the long haul. He exhaled, listening to the mechanic sounds of his own breathing, spooking him a little. Like Darth Vader, he thought to himself, remembering Rebecca's enjoyment of the old Star Wars films.

Rebecca, if you could see me now...

Activating his thrusters, he was able to bring the suit to a full stop, instead just drifting in space, his limbs akimbo, allowing a small tear to join the blobbed blood floating around his helmet. Two of the little specks joined, briefly, changing direction with the small collision. Red and clear. Evil and good.

He ran a full diagnostic on the suit, not liking what he had found.

-Oxygen depleted; estimated time remaining: 4 hours.-
-Suit integrity at Maximum
-Maximum Jet Fuel; Approx. 4 hours at maximum strength.-

4 hours until he died a painful, slow breath.

Aaawesome.


12 Hours Before

Adam was smiling into the screen, his eyes dancing as his wife and two daughters giggled at him from home.

The space operations program allowed for a few calls from home a month, and so Adam and Sally had decided to split them up, one at the beginning, one in the middle, and one at the end. The money the program was sending his family was more than enough for everyone to live comfortably on, but his daughters were missing the one thing money couldn't really buy; their daddy back.

"So, what happened then?" Adam said, grinning into the screen as Rachel, the youngest, regaled him with a tale of her making brownies for her class, only to have the 'cutesy boy', Mike, eat more than half of them.

"So he got a tummy ache and hadda be sent to Miss Noreen's office!" The gap-toothed girl grinned widely. "I like him."

"I'm glad to hear that, sweetie." Adam smiled, his fingers running around the cool metal of the control room. The call was when he was on duty, and wasn't exactly protocol, but the other patrons of the station didn't seem to mind that he did this sometimes. Adam took more shifts to make up for it.

He allowed his gaze to shift over the computer terminals, adjusting the thruster ignition slightly to slow a rotation the ship was starting to slide into. Keeping one eye on the monitor, he heard his wife send the girls to bed, blowing kisses to their father. He blew them back, enthusiastically.

As soon as they were gone, she turned to him, her smile disappearing. "I miss you, Adam."

Adam sighed. "It's only another year. They say we'll have more than enough information after a year."

"The kids are worried about you. Rebecca rented Lost In Space last night and kept asking if it was possible that you could get lost out there. I didn't know what to say."

Adam's gaze softened. "I'm not going to get lost, Sally." He whispered, touching the screen with two fingers. Sally mirrored the gesture, so that their fingers were meeting on the screen.

"I have to go, honey. This call's already costing you a fortune."

"Okay, stud." She said, still whispering. "Goodnight."

He laughed. "Yeah. Goodnight."

He clicked the monitor off, and continued with his observations.

Out of his view, underneath the small desk he was seated at, there was a small, red light. It winked.

V
09-28-2010, 10:07 AM
After

Eternity passed before a response came, a small bead of sweat rolled down his face. Nerves wanted to explode his finger wavered over the coms button ready to chatter into empty space.

Kia's voice responded worried but it warmed Evan none the less. He laughed and began to scan the darkness for her suit. One of the other's had survived - he wasn't alone. Oz responded soon after. Evan beamed and cheered, his voice retained his happiness, "Adam you make it out too?"

Evan activated his thrusters moving toward the husk, "I'm going to check out the station," he radioed. If only to keep himself occupied and the fear at bay.

12 hours before

Evan had half finished his meal before Kia sat beside him, an equally unappealing dish with her. "Morning Kia," he said giving her and awkward grin, "ready for another exciting day in space?"

He gave the t.v one last uninterested look before giving up on the show. He could watch it later. Oz emerged, as only she could (Evan had come to realise), just after he set his bowl aside. Her boots were on the table before Evan could utter a word.

"Um, hello," he said, "finished up for today?" Unlike Kia, Oz scared the shit out of him most days. "I'll go meet up with Adam if you want?"

Wattz
10-07-2010, 01:06 AM
After

“Whatever floats your boat, Evan,” she said before erupting into a smoker’s cough.

This was probably the first time Oz addressed him by name, or at least the first time she could recall. She thought she hadn’t cared to remember or say any of their names out loud. It was always ‘hey you’ or even a simple grunt. It was strange how little she thought she cared about any of them. Perhaps it still held true. Perhaps this whole ordeal really didn’t instill a sense of “koombaya” that one would expect. But there was something about saying the name, something about recognizing that she could still think, that Oz still had some semblance of a memory. She couldn’t much make heads or tails of it, and the more she tried to, the less meaning it held.

“So who wants to take bets on how long it takes for us to push up posies?”

Before

Oz grunted. There was nothing else to really say and he could interpret the message any way he wanted. She had nothing to say to Kia, the cheerful little thing that pranced around the ship as if picking flowers left and right. Of course, this could have been sheer exaggeration through Oz’s eyes.

“Who?” Oz grimaced as Evan spoke to her, having trouble trying to remember who the fuck was Adam. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, shifted a bit in her seat, then finally had an image of a specific individual: a face for the name.

“Oh right. Family man,” Oz said with a sigh. “Um… sure. Do whatever.” She waved a hand and took her bowler hat off, revealing the greasy mess beneath. She preoccupied herself by twisting it in her hands, as if it were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

WordsofWisdom
10-12-2010, 02:15 AM
Before:

It took him a while before he found the com switch, and when he flipped it on, a rush of static accompanied Evan’s voice. "-dam you make it out too?"

Adam grimaced, declining to speak for a moment, just allowing his body to drift, that damn blots of blood obscuring his vision. He allowed himself a few seconds, just listening to his own breathing.

“I’m going to check out the station,”

“Whatever floats your boat, Evan.” Great. The depressing, mopey, sarcastic she-bitch. Who smoked. Out of all of the people that could’ve survived, why the hell was she one of them?

Adam took it back, wincing inwardly. He didn’t hate Oz. And while there certainly was animosity there for a woman who acted like she was a high school bully and certainly dug up some unpleasant memories, he definitely didn’t wish death upon her. He just wished that maybe they didn’t need to cooperate with the escape attempt. He figured Oz was the kind of person to call you five years from now with a “Hey, remember when I saved your ass in space, family man? Well, I need twelve thousand dollars.”

Adam rolled his eyes as she continued her thought process, picturing her face, tucked away, glass between her and the vacuum of space.

Just like all of them.

They were in the same boat. He didn’t have to like it; he just needed to deal with it.

“So who wants to take bets on how long it takes for us to push up posies?”

He smiled as he pressed the mic button. “Well, Ozzy Osbourne, this here fancy meter sez I got about 4 hours ‘till I croak.” Adam spoke, with a gruff, fake accent. “And I’ll take that action, Evan. Meet you at the station.”

He started pushing towards it, a frown creasing his brow. “It seemed to be going so well when I got on duty…”

Memories rushed over him in a violent wave. “What the hell went wrong?”


After:

Adam spun in his chair, examining a far panel that showed the station’s gravity well and oxygen levels. All checked out. He tapped three keys in the large keyboard at the center of the instrument panel, recording the information in the ever-sending log back to the station on Earth. He took a moment to roll his shoulders and crack his knuckles, and then went back to the constant observing, examining, and key-tapping until most of his checks were dealt with.

To his far left, a red light winked on, and then back off. Curious, he turned his attention to the light, wheeling the chair to his left.

His knee bumped into something. Hard.

He rolled his chair out slightly, and bent to look under the desk, rubbing his knee in the afflicted spot. A cursory glance beneath the workstation revealed a slight hump, with a red winking light. He had noticed it before, but just assumed it had been an engineering error – a place for some scrap metal to be put on without too much notice.

But now that there was a light.

He got on his hands and knees, the chair pushing out as he pushed it aside with his feet. Craning his neck, he squinted at the object.

What the hell was it?

V
10-13-2010, 11:22 AM
11 hours 15 minutes before...

Evan couldn't really explain why it took him so long to reach the main observation room. Probably the run in with Oz, he thought to himself as if to make himself feel better. It didn't. Wandering the hall away from the common room only gave his nerves the chance to build up.

He allowed the door to open. Adam was there, of course, it made Evan feel better. Less alone in the empty station. "Hey there Adam," his voice stuttering a bit.

"Anything much happening today?" Of course not. Evan took a seat at the second control panel, "any messages from ships passing through?"

20 minutes after

Still no response from Adam, his head commented. Oz had things to say - not that she helped. Just think on getting to the ruined station, he told himself. Don't think on anything else.

“So who wants to take bets on how long it takes for us to push up posies?”

That didn't help. Death? "Shit, I don't want to... out here with nothing. Nothing but. But. Nothing. Shit." The deep blankness suddenly was more oppressive, the lights of stars faded, Evan wanted to curl into ball ..... but the suit wouldn't allow it. The suit was suddenly more restrictive, binding, tight. Evan clamped his eyes closed.

“And I’ll take that action, Evan. Meet you at the station.”

He missed whatever else was said until his name was spoken. He returned to find his boosters off and drifting toward the husk. Evan held his finger over the communications before pressing down and responding with a simple, "ok, Adam."

After several minutes of travel he arrived. The explosion had ripped their former home to nothing but supports and occasional structure. He floated in beside the Pod, grabbing hold of it to stop himself. It was trapped in between several panels and steel bars welded into a boxed shape. The closest door couldn't be opened being trapped but the main problem was the door hatch had been warped making it unable to open.

Evan floated to the top of the small craft and looked at the other side, the hatch appeared useable. Two out of four seats, then. If the oxygen seals hadn't broken two of them could survive inside for a long time. Whilst the others....

"I'll come to the station too," Buzzed Kia making her approach.

Evan went to explore the controls.

Wattz
10-20-2010, 06:44 AM
After

Oz actually laughed. Not a cynical chuckle, not a sarcastic guffaw, but a low, stilted laugh. For some reason, Adam’s mocking answer was hysterical to her, though perhaps in another situation, it wouldn’t have been. Maybe the smoke eating her oxygen was just making her light headed.

“’Least the death’ll be an interesting one. Go out with a bang.” Oz mumbled this to herself more than to Evan as she followed suit to the station without verbalizing her action. What else could be done?

She felt strangely talkative at the moment, contemplative of the way she was going to die, as if examining a deformed, ugly, yet strangely hypnotizing imperfection on someone’s face. Oz turned the idea over in her head, feeling it between her teeth, rolling it along her tongue, trying to get one last, coherent idea of what it meant to die. She kind of expected it to be the result, so why not be prepared? But god, why couldn’t she just shut up? It almost made her throat hurt, being so vocal.

“Aren’t we supposed to implode in space or something?” she said as she arrived at the station, vaguely examining the remnants. “I mean sure, the oxygen would get us first, but if we hit that black, man… we’d all be ugly lumps of nothing. Like… like in that one story. Ever read ‘The Cold Equation’? Yeah, that’s the one.”


Before

“Hm,” Oz grunted in response to Evan, who promptly left the room, supposedly in search of Adam. She sighed heavily through her nose, the sound of her boot clicking over and over again against the counter as she impatiently shook her leg. For a moment, she had forgotten that Kia was still in the room, finally recognizing her presence when the girl awkwardly dropped something or another.

“What the hell you lookin’ at, kid?” Oz scowled and spat on the floor, taking her boots down from the countertop and rubbing it into the carpet.