Day One, Greenie.

[wegotarunner]

[Open Spam]

[Thomas arrives on the deck of the ship with a look of weariness not only on his features, but one that's settled into his shoulders. Chuck's carving is still clutched tightly in his hand. There's still blood on his clothes. On his hands. His face is streaked with dirt and sweat and blood from a cut above his eye and another on his cheek.

So this is the Barge.

He looks up at the sky with wide eyes, momentarily distracted by the sight and forgetting the events of the last few hours. But only momentarily. He blinks himself out of his dazed stupor and rubs a hand over his face. It takes him a moment to get his bearings. The first thing he needs to do is find his room, and take a long, hot shower. Change his clothes. Get something to eat. It's been hours since he last ate anything and his stomach isn't happy about it.

And then he's going to explore the Barge, find out where everything is. Figure out what to do from there. He's sure there's a lot to learn about this place, about the people he's now sharing space with. He's not completely thrilled about having to meet a whole slew of new people. People who won't know him, who will probably treat him like an outsider. Like he's not to be trusted.

Truthfully, he's still not sure should be. He remembers Newt's words. That who he used to be doesn't matter, it's who he is now that counts. And he can't save them if he focuses on things he can't do anything about. He has to stay focused.

For Newt. For Minho. For Teresa. For Alby. Ben. Even for Gally.

But most of all, for Chuck.]

[Video]

[Thomas appears on screen looking better than he had only an hour ago for those who ran into him on the way from the deck to his room. He's cleaned up, all the blood and sweat and dirt gone from his skin. The cut above his eye and the one on his cheek are still there but they look a little less angry now. He also looks a little hesitant, like he's not sure about this.]

Someone said I should introduce myself.

I'm Thomas.

Comments

[audio]

[tucky]

Inmate or warden?

[Always the most important first question for her.]

[audio]

[wegotarunner]

[It almost startles him. Both because she responds so quickly, and also because she's a girl. Rationally he knows there are other girls besides Teresa and the blonde woman from WICKED -- whom he feels like he should remember but doesn't, not really.]

Warden. [His voice is quiet.]

[audio]

[tucky]

You don't sound too happy about it.

Spam - Deck

[takeyouapart]

[Merlin usually comes up to the deck for some air after his Infirmary shift, or a long time spent reading in the library. It helps him re-centre himself, to clear his mind, to find a sense of perspective. What he finds today is a young man (maybe ten years his junior?) in bloodied clothes, obviously wounded and bone-tired, and Merlin recalls sharply how he looked himself when he arrived on the Barge not two months before.

He also remembers how utterly incapable he was of accepting the kindness of strangers, but that's no reason not to offer.

His approach is slow, cautious. He doesn't want to present a threat.]

...Hello. Have you arrived here today?

[He looks very like someone else he's seen around ship, he realises, but his colouring is a little different. ]

Spam - Deck

[wegotarunner]

[It's only been a couple hours, if that, since Chuck died in his arms. The blood has settled into his skin, dried there. He feels nauseous.

He's not one to turn down kindness, especially if it's sincere. It feels like the Glade all over again. He agreed to come to both places, he knows he did, but his memories of both incidents are shaky. He turns toward the sound of footsteps and sees a young man -- older than him -- approaching.]

Yeah. Just now.

Spam - Deck

[takeyouapart]

[Merlin nods.]

You're hurt. Would you come to the Infirmary with me? I'm a physician here - I can treat your wounds, help you get cleaned up, if you'd like.

[He knows he didn't, that he refused more than one such offer. But he doesn't think so little of other people as to think they'd bask in their own misery and defeat the way he did. Does.]

[lydiascreams]

[Lydia is making her way out of the enclosure after a walk with Prada. It's the dog who notices him, first. All of the sudden, he tugs on his leash and starts running toward the guy, barking.]

Prada, stop it, what are you-- [And then she sees Stiles there. He looks terrible and there's blood. So she runs toward him, too. Her eyes are wide as she approaches, hand going straight to her shoulder. She looks terrified.]

What happened?

[wegotarunner]

[He hears the dog before he sees either of them. But he doesn't have time to fully turn around before a pretty redhead is standing in front of him, the little dog sniffing at him.

Thomas starts when she lays a hand on his shoulder. The way she reacts makes him think she knows him, but the likelihood of that is so slim. Isn't it?]

Do you know me?

[lydiascreams]

[When he turns around, she pauses. After staring at him for a full moment, she takes a step back. He doesn't feel like Stiles. And the hair-- she just spoke with this-- with him.]

Are you Thomas?

[patheticvillain]

Do you always just do what someone says?

[wegotarunner]

No. [He answers immediately even though he doesn't really know that. He doesn't remember if he used to be the kind of person who just followed advice or suggestions. He's not, now. But this suggestion at least seemed to make sense.]

Do you?

[patheticvillain]

Sometimes I don't even when I should.

spam

[withtheoldbreed]

[Sometimes, Gene kind of wonders if it would be better to ditch his combat uniform, go back to wearing civilian clothes, wander around in public without his KA-BAR and his father's .45 on his hip, pack up the Unit 3 he'd asked the Admiral for and everything else into his closet and just move on. Start acting like the person he was before he got it in his head to enlist no matter who told him not to, who warned him what that would really mean.

But then he spots the guy who looks a lot like Stiles - Gene doesn't know him personally or anything, but he knows Isaac and Scott, considers them friends, and the ship's small enough that you start recognizing faces pretty quickly - covered in blood and staring up at the stars over and around the deck the same way he had when he'd first got here, and Sledge isn't sorry he's still got the corpsman's kit on him.

(There're probably plenty of reasons why he shouldn't be sorry he's got the knife or the pistol, either.)

Sledge walks towards him quickly, already reaching into one of the pouches of his Unit 3 for a bandage.]

You hit? [It's a lot of blood. 8v]

spam

[wegotarunner]

[He's turned down one offer of medical attention already, and mostly Thomas just wants to take a shower. He wants to get all the blood off him. It dawns on him that even if he showers, the blood is still going to be on his clothes and he doesn't have other clothes here. At least he doesn't think he does. It's not like he had a suitcase packed.

Thomas turns toward the newcomer and shakes his head slightly. The new person is dressed in a uniform and it's one he can vaguely recall as being military, but as with everything else, he doesn't know how he knows that, or when he learned it.]

No. It's not my blood.

spam

[withtheoldbreed]

[Gene's expression is more sympathetic than anything else when he hears that. He'd been covered in another person's - other people's - blood for over a month before he'd got here, and there's nothing quite like it. It makes your skin crawl.

He (sort of reluctantly, because it's still hard to just sit back and do nothing, just like it's always been) lowers his hand from his kit and takes a breath, wondering how much this guy's heard already.]

You an inmate or a warden? [He's asking mostly because it'll influence where he tells you you can get a shower.]

[leavetreadmarks]

It's always a pretty good place to start, yeah.

I'm Letty. Fairly new here myself, so I won't judge you for thinking something's insane yet.

[wegotarunner]

Hi, Letty.

[He's less startled now to see another girl. After having met Lydia and talked to Tiffany, he's settling into the idea that there are a lot more girls here than there are in his memory.

But he shakes his head a little at the mention of finding something insane. This is strange, sure. But so was waking up in the Glade. He wonders if there's anywhere that isn't strange, really.]

How new is fairly new?

[surfaceshine]

[Dean studies this for a long time before he bothers saying anything. By the time he reaches for the communicator he's certain it isn't Stiles, or a version of Stiles; the body language is different, is what sells it. He knows better than most that the shellshocked look and the hollows in the cheeks are all a matter of circumstance and timeline, but the body language doesn't lie.]

Anyone warned you yet?

[wegotarunner]

[He doesn't recognize the face that appears on the video feed. It isn't surprising, but part of him keeps thinking one of the other Gladers is going to suddenly be there.]

Warned me about what?

spam

[broughtwhiskey]

[He's been on the Barge about two and a half months and he still rejects the idea that he should be around people, that he ought to take any time to get to any of them. He's content to be as isolated as possible, holing up in his cabin. But he can't stay in there forever. Sometimes he needs to leave for more than just the basic necessities. He just needs to be away from it, from the memories.]

[The deck is one of the few places Philip can ever be found, but he likes it better than anywhere else on the Barge. It's not artificial like the Enclosure, but it's just as open. When he gets there and spots Thomas, he thinks for a brief second it's the other boy who had been so eager to be as helpful as possible. But upon a second glance, he notices something subtly different about this one in the way he stands and carries himself. At the very least it wouldn't be how...he thinks his name is Stiles would look covered in that much blood and grime. Philip believes Stiles would break under those kind of circumstances.]

[It's only because it's not Stiles that he says anything as he takes a seat at one of the benches.]

You should probably head down to the infirmary.

spam

[wegotarunner]

[He doesn't have the option of breaking. People are counting on him and he can't let them down again. He turns toward the sound of the new voice, not sure what to think about an older man being there. Everyone else he's run into so far has been fairly young. He notes the eye patch over the man's right eye, but says nothing about it.

It makes him wonder, again, what caused Newt's limp. He shakes the thought off and draws in a breath.]

That's what everyone keeps telling me.

[He's not great at listening.]

[forgetyourusedtobe]

Nice to meet you, Thomas, I'm Elena.

Has someone given you a rundown of the place yet?

[wegotarunner]

[He manages a very faint smile at her greeting. Something about her immediately reminds him of Teresa, but he's not sure what it is.]

I've heard bits and pieces, yeah. I mean I knew a little before I got here. Just not all the specifics.

[strangehistorian]

Hello, Thomas! Welcome to the ship!

[wegotarunner]

Hey. Thanks, Miss --?