wegotarunner | Day One, Greenie.

[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.

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[Hey, that's more considerate than some people can be in this situation. Good for you, Thomas.]

Alright. [Fair enough. Gene's definitely not arguing.] Cabins're this way.

[He points towards the door to below decks, and takes a step or two in that direction, glancing back at Thomas to make sure the new guy's following him.]

[Thomas follows despite his tiredness, or maybe because of it. But also because he's curious as hell to find out how all of this works.]

What's your name?

Private Eugene Sledge, United States Marine Corps. [He offers the rank and the organization half out of habit and half just as a way to explain why he's dressed the way that he is, although he's sort of not sure Thomas knows what that is.] You?

[United States Marine Corps. He knows what it is, but he's not sure if it even exists in his world anymore. He's not sure about a lot of things.]

Thomas.

[No last name. He probably has one, but he doesn't actually know it.]

[Gene doesn't push for anything else. If Thomas doesn't want to share, or doesn't have anything else to add, that's fine. It's his business.

But he does glance back over his shoulder at him again, and cautiously throw out the offer for more conversation as they head down the stairs.] Where were you, before the Admiral got you?

[He follows Gene down the stairs, looking around at their surroundings warily.]

It was called the Glade. [He hesitates.] Have you heard of it?

No. [He doesn't think so, anyway. Odds are, no.] What was it like?

A big outside area. And uh -- it was surrounded by walls. A maze.

[And yes it's every bit as weird as it sounds.]

Why?

[It's probably a stupid question to ask - from what he's said so far, Thomas hasn't made it sound like he'd know much about the why - but he's curious.

Although by the way...]

You see anything familiar, lemme know.

[Thomas isn't entirely sure about the why. But he has bits and pieces of it floating in his mind. It's better than nothing. Just not by much.]

It was some kind of experiment.

[Even saying the words now makes him feel a little ill. It was something he'd helped with, even though so many pieces are missing -- he knows he helped WICKED.]

I'm not sure I'm going to recognize a door. [He grimaces a little, rubbing the back of his neck.]

Day One, Greenie.

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