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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

takeyouapart

Not two months, yet. But there's a lot of good people here. They'll help you settle in.

[He can't strictly count himself as a good person. He'd like to, but. Various reasons.

The door he unlocks is heavy oak with iron fixtures, and the room beyond - a medieval infirmary, with shelves of leather-bound books and glass jars - is fitting to it. It's warm in here, some wood still shouldering in the hearth.]

The shower is through there. [He nods at a door that looks out of kilter with its surroundings; the bathroom beyond is equally anachronistic.] There's towels and soap. I'll fetch you some clothes.

[They might be a little large on him - Merlin is a couple of inches taller, and marginally broader in the shoulders - but not comically huge.]

From:

wegotarunner

[He nods. The reassurance is nice, even if he's still a little hesitant. He follows Merlin into the cabin and looks around, eyes widening as they take in all off the decor. He doesn't have any memories of things that look like this place.

His mind is kind of spinning.]

Do all the cabins look like this?

[There's surprise and a hint of amazement in his voice. He shakes himself out of his daze, though at the mention of the shower.]

Thanks, Merlin.

From:

takeyouapart

[He's halfway across the room when the question gives him pause. He stops, turns back to him.]

The cabins are a replica of a place you've lived at home. So, they all look different.

From:

wegotarunner

[He's not sure what that's going to mean for his cabin when he finds it. There weren't any actual buildings in the Glade.]

Oh.

From:

takeyouapart

[Whatever's on his mind, Merlin couldn't guess. He just nods.]

I'll leave the clothes outside the bathroom for you. Take as long as you'd like.

From:

wegotarunner

Thanks.

[He draws in a breath and heads into the bathroom, quickly stripping out of his bloody clothes and climbing into the shower, turning the water on as hot as he can stand. The heat eases some of the tension and achy feeling from his muscles and for awhile he just stands there, letting the water wash away the blood and sweat and dirt and tears. After awhile he finally reaches out and turns the water off again, climbing out, drying off and changing into the clothes that Merlin left out for him. They're a little baggy on him, but they're clean and dry.

His hair is still damp when he steps back out into the main room.]

From:

takeyouapart

[Merlin's not far away, flicking through a book while he waits. When he hears the door he looks up, and smiles.]

You look better.

From:

wegotarunner

[He feels better. Physically, anyway. The rest will come with time.]

Thanks. I appreciate the help and...the clothes.

From:

takeyouapart

You're welcome.

[He hesitates just a moment.]

...a lot of people come here, looking like you did. I did. And I don't know what happened to you, or why you're here, or where you've come from, but...if you ever want to talk about it, you can.

From:

wegotarunner

[He swallows hard at Merlin's words. He tries to smile but doesn't quite manage it. He believes him. His voice is sincere. Thomas just isn't ready yet.]

Thank you. I think I just need some time to process first, I guess.

From:

takeyouapart

[Merlin nods, and it makes him feel a little more hopeful for the younger man that he can even say that much. He doesn't think he would have been able to. (He doesn't think he can now.)]

If there's anything you need, all you need to do is contact me. You should have - [He rummages in a pocket for his communicator, and holds it up for him to see.] One of these, to speak to the rest of the ship.

From:

wegotarunner

[Thomas pats his pockets after seeing the device and sure enough, he finds one in his pocket. He stares at it curiously for a moment, much the way he'd stared at the Griever's mechanic stinger.]

Oh. That's different.

From:

takeyouapart

[Merlin smiles gently.]

I can show you how it works, if you like. I'd never seen anything like it before I arrived here.

From:

wegotarunner

Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good, thank you.

From:

takeyouapart

[Merlin's explanation is slow, and thorough, and careful - in the way of someone who knows exactly what it's like to be handed a relatively complicated electronic device, having come from somewhere with no greater technology for recording information than quill and paper.]

...people use these to watch for newcomers, I think. There's no announcement that you've arrived beyond any you make for yourself, so - when you're feeling up to it, you ought to.

[God knows he didn't, at first.]

From:

wegotarunner

[It reminds him a bit of one of SmartPhones that he has passing memory of from when he was younger, but no one really had phones anymore. Or anything like this, really. He's kind of fascinated.]

Do a lot of people show up every day?

From:

takeyouapart

[He shakes his head.]

Not every day. I came here a little over a month ago, and there's been...six, or seven who arrived after me.

From:

wegotarunner

[Thomas nods, thinking. Six or seven new people a month is definitely a lot more than one new Greenie a month showing up. Or even two. And two had been enough to freak out the Gladers. Gally, in particular.

He chews his lower lip.]

So I'm probably the only one today.

From:

takeyouapart

I think so. I've not seen anyone else today. Though I don't think there's a...schedule, really.

From:

wegotarunner

But it's normal, right? For people to show up randomly? It doesn't upset people?

From:

takeyouapart

No, it doesn't. They're used to it. Most of the people I've met here have been very kind.

[It's an oddly specific question; he tilts his head.]

Where are you from?

From:

wegotarunner

I'm not sure.

[He knows that's a weird response and he grimaces even as he admits it.]

I was in a place called the Glade right before this. But not for long. I don't really...remember much before it though.

From:

takeyouapart

...I'm sorry.

[A life forgotten is a life lost. He can't help but offer his sympathy.]

How long is 'not long'?

From:

wegotarunner

[He can remember bits and pieces of life before the Glade, but they're so small and so scattered that putting them all together to come up with any kind of clear image of life before is difficult at best.]

A week. Maybe not a full one. Just a few days.

From:

takeyouapart

Do you know how you lost your memory? Were you injured, or...?

[It's hard to imagine how the Admiral would judge someone a Warden, or an Inmate, or anything else on the basis of a few days alone. How anyone would even know who they themselves were. Merlin knows there's a few weeks in his life that he'd rather not be taken in isolation.]