cradleproject | WEEK 11

WEEK 11

the pygmalion. . .

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CAPTAIN'S LOG:
WEEK (11)

monday - thursday

(14) survivors

Sunday's trial was only mere hours ago, but you find yourself faced with a new week on The Pygmalion. When you awaken, you will find the ship restored to its previous state, all areas interfered with during the murder looking mostly the same as they did before. It seems you have more exploring to do. The robot in the cafeteria has prepared another breakfast of various foods.

(OOC: Please submit your murder proposals by 9 PM EST Tuesday.)
taken list
profiles
private conversations
setting
rulebook
murder proposals

ENTER COMMAND_

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Monday - Wednesday, Medbay

[come one, come all, come see the magnificent three legged cat!!! by which I mean: for most of the week Adrien can be found in the medbay in various stages of recuperation. he is pretty bad on Monday, and those who haven't suffered him trying to get through a conversation on post-motive have probably witnessed it happening regardless. It's pretty painful. On Tuesday he is soldiering on and far more coherent, and by Wednesday he's obviously restless and ready to up and leave. Because it's not like you need longer than three days to get over being amputated, amirite!!!!!

Anyone coming in to see him will notice that his ring is back and now has a place on his left (remaining) hand, and that Plagg is seemingly okay, simply spending his days curled up somewhere on Adrien's body. He'll look up long enough to glare at anyone visiting, but he's uncharacteristically quiet otherwise. Marinette is also usually around, spending her days fussing over her teen husband.

If he notices you visiting on any of those days, Adrien will smile awkwardly and raise his right stump in greeting. ... Then immediately lower it and raise his left hand. WHY IS THIS SO HARD TO UNLEARN]

Hi. Did you come to give me a hand?

[you all should have let him bleed to death.]

Thursday- Chapel

[on Thursday, either Adrien has been allowed to leave the medbay or he's left it himself out of stubbornness, because he's out and about once more. Though he's harder to spot than usual: he's hiding out in the chapel because no one ever goes in there. Anyone walking in will hear his quiet argument with Plagg (in bold), because the room echoes:]

It'd be easier if I could test it out, I'm not being stubborn, it's the only way to tell for sure.

And I'm telling you to take my word for it. Besides, you'd just tire yourself out and pass out.

That's-- not true. Look, if one of those things attacks again...

[Plagg's interruption is immediate, his voice coming out like a cat's angry hissing:]

You're not fighting it!

[Adrien is struck speechless... for about two seconds, before he snaps right back:]

Of course I am!

[now might be a good time to interrupt. . .]

[The message he receives over Furry Passing, as much as it certainly didn't mean well, reminds him he ought to go check in on Adrien. He helped him cauterize the wound on Sunday and put him to rest, but has otherwise made himself scarce. Honestly, he has no idea what to say, or whether Adrien will find him an imposition.

But, yes. He'll go check on Adrien but definitely won't say the joke out loud. Except that when he enters, Adrien tells a similar joke, and he has to cover him mouth to stifle surprised laughter. He definitely doesn't laugh at terrible puns at the expense of injured children.]

Not exactly. I'm meant to check whether you're [okay, fine, Bull] all right. I suppose not!

Edited 2016-08-17 02:47 (UTC)

[Adrien smiles more genuinely at Dorian shooting a joke of his own right back, looking reassured.]

Nope. I'm afraid this is all that's left. [he wiggles the fingers of his left hand for emphasis. stop him. well, it's not quite necessary, since he stops himself] I'm glad you dropped by. I wanted to thank you for Sunday. I... don't think I managed to say it back then? Or, well, I can't really remember.

[what's worse the shitty jokes or the genuine gratitude pick one]

[Well. Apparently that worked. Apparently terrible puns are how you make friends. This actually makes a lot of sense, now that he considers it.

Still. The genuine gratitude wins out by a lot. Don't give him that look, you adorable little martyr.]

No need, no need. I'm sure I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for you and Marinette many times over.

[Adrien sort of shrugs at that, since he doesn't quite think that's accurate, but he can't know that for sure.]

Well... Bleeding to death would've sucked, so I'm still grateful. [but he doesn't want to get into too deep an argument about it at this point-- the sentiment is out there, which is really what matters, so he rescues dorian from Feelings] How's everyone doing, though? Did we learn anything new?

[adrien how is that rescuing him from feelings]

I wouldn't say we've learned anything new. We received some more cryptic messages from the dead. This time, not able to have a two way conversation, but they did finally have audio.

[Going to sit nearby so they can chat for a bit about non-feelings subjects. At least he can keep him company.]

I suppose you must be growing very bored.

Hmm, I saw. I got a few of my own, but I can't read any of them. [he raises his tablet] Furry passing's the only thing I can really do, so... Yeah, a little bit, but at least I'm never alone for too long.

[being one of the only people who might be able to be a nurse on the ship has its disadvantages, like trying to get Adrien to sleep more on Monday and being infuriated that Luke hauled him out of bed and having to deal with nothing like morphine existing on the ship. but Grell is patient and thorough, and so it means that every day, she's going to be worrying.

it also means that he's subject to what remedies there are for recovering from this sort of thing, brought together from common sense and textbooks. currently, it involves a cup of something hot and smelling strongly of flowers.]

This should help stave off any infections from our battlefield medicine.

[between the salve and the painkillers, it should be able to bring down the pain enough that Adrien can be awake without collapsing. the tea probably doesn't taste the best, but she's sweetened it with honey to make it bearable.]

[Adrien is immensely grateful to Grell for all her work in helping him deal with the (admittedly considerable) pain he's been in, on top of his injury. But he's also not exactly a great patient, having never had a propensity for staying still and being in general a stubborn teen completely unused to being injured or sick in any way. Which is probably why he's sitting upright when she comes in, and he wrinkles his nose a bit at the smell of the tea. It's not awful, but... it's a strong smell.

still, he attempts a smile and holds out his left hand to take the tea because he is, again, stubborn, and wants to do it himself]

Is that what we're calling it...? [he sounds amused, at least.] Thanks, Madame.

It sounds more elegant than "a panicked attempt to stop you bleeding out."

[fine, fine, he can take the tea on his own. that he's sitting up and has this boundless energy she thinks is a good sign - if he was weak, they'd have to be nervous as to how stable he was.]

Is everything still working? No strange side effects or sudden ineffectiveness?

Fair enough. At least it worked? [there's a slight tremble to his hold on the tea, but it's not enough to make him spill it, and he sips it carefully. the question gives him pause, though]

I... don't really have anything to compare it to, but I think so? I don't feel worse, in any case.

If that changes, let me know. Or whoever's around, if I'm not.

[she won't, can't helicopter - and the way things are, she has to leave every now and then to be able to give him the space a person needs - but she's trying to make herself available.]

You know, once you go back, you'll have the story of all stories to tell people if they ask about it. A time traveling alien in sunglasses, and your bravery to rival the classical heroes.

Okay. I will.

[he curls a bit into himself at that follow-up, staring at the tea instead of looking at Grell. He knows she means well, but...]

Please don't talk about it like that. [he can joke about his arm-- it's the only way he can even begin to cope-- but it's not a story he'd ever want to share. Roxy died before he could react, and he hadn't even noticed Emily through the shock, and now Dave is the one living with that guilt. He can't help but think if he'd reacted faster, or better, somehow... he looks up with a wry smile, to try to soften his objection:] Besides, I don't think anyone would believe that.

[looking at the tea, he won't see how something like regret flashes across her face, quick and gone as she turns away to check something in a cabinet. too soon? too soon, definitely. she'll take the request to heart then.]

That much is true. We've dealt with so much that others would consider impossible. I would have considered all this impossible before I came here - I would have thought the idea of a craft that sails the stars pure fantasy.

[he's relieved that she doesn't protest or comment, and his smile looks more genuine for it]

Right? We've sort of got space travel back home, but nothing on this level. And I thought life in Paris was crazy and intense.

What's your Paris like? Undoubtedly drastically different than my own - but I can't help but be curious about it.

[a safer topic. safer waters to traverse, remembering home.]

Constantly under attacks by supervillains? [there's a kind of half shrug that follows that statement. he doesn't like thinking about the likelihood of Paris still standing when they come back, but there isn't a whole lot he likes thinking about these days.] For us, Jack the Ripper was over a century ago, so it's hard to compare... I know technology and culture wise, it's completely different from what it must've been like for you, at least.

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WEEK 11

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Wednesday morning

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tuesday.

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