un: jaycetalis | video

[hexcope]

[If anyone hasn’t seen Jayce within the past few months, he looks quite a bit different. His hair is longer, he has a beard, and doesn’t seem quite as full of energy as he might have in the past. He’s also not dressing as uptight as he used to— a lack of vest and tie, exchanged for just a simple button up shirt. The background is once again S.T.A.R. labs, although he’s not trying to hide it this time.]

Hey, Etrayans. For those new to this whole thing, welcome. I’m Jayce Talis. For those who came from Pollux, also welcome. I can say with full confidence Aurora’s better at this than Castor is.

[Aurora probably won’t appreciate that comment, but whatever. He stands by it. But that aside…]

I’m putting out a call for fellow scientists to come together and work collaboratively on research involving what we know about Etraya, and more importantly, what we don’t know. This could also include strategizing developments to improve our lives here, and solving problems with our understanding in our respective fields. 


Something that we have here that we lack in our own worlds is the variety of perspectives. In my world, some of our greatest achievements are beyond what’s possible in other worlds, but we don’t have plastics or microwaves. Think of this as an opportunity for all of us to better ourselves, in this… transient existence we’re all stuck in.

Meetings would be here, in S.T.A.R. labs, every Thursday morning. No requirements if you want to participate other than an open mind, and a good attitude. No shooting down suggestions without hearing things out, and if you happen to have some sort of grudge against any of the participants here, you leave it at the door when you come in, or you’re not coming in.

[OOC: Feel free to threadjack around if you'd like!]

Comments

[rudelanguage]

[so what you're saying is Dwanye is committing murder. nice.

she cocks an eyebrow.] Wouldn't it already be clean? I mean, isn't it Aurora's job to keep us all alive and fit for...whatever garbage we're subject to next?

[hexcope]

We don't know. As far as I know, no one's studied it. The only water I've tested for unusual chemicals is that one time the beach was weird looking.

Most likely it's clean enough, but your cups certainly aren't. If you had a sink, you'd be able to wash them without going down to the river.

[rudelanguage]

You worry about a whole lotta stuff, don'tcha. Long-Term.

[her head cants to the side, scrutinizing him.]

[hexcope]

...

[Yeah. He's pretty much worried about things, 24/7.]

It's a valid worry.

[rudelanguage]

I mean... [one-eye squint, head tilting in the other direction. very puppy-like.] On the ladder of things to worry about, thoughhhh...

[hexcope]

... So is that a no on the sink?

[It's sounding like a no.

Even though Antigone's right. It's not important, on the grand scale of things. But if he does a bunch of little projects, to stall doing his big important projects, then it's like he's still getting things done at the same rate, and-]

[rudelanguage]

Where are you putting it? It's not fitting in there. [she juts her thumb over toward her tent.] Like...

[hexcope]

It'd have to be outside. Like maybe here...

[He points at a more clear spot of the camp.]

And then you could also get a bathtub next to it. With a curtain, you know, for privacy. Totally doable.

[rudelanguage]

For the...for the cups? [i'm sorry, jayce]

1/3

[hexcope]

For you?

2/3

[hexcope]

[hexcope]

Do you not take baths?

[rudelanguage]

[she's already turning away to go check on the water. shit's boiling, yo'.]

Man, your eyelid sure likes to twitch a lot. You sure you didn't sleep enough?

[hexcope]

I sleep every day.

[For five hours, maybe six.]

Answer the question.

[rudelanguage]

[LOUD SCOFF. whatEVER, dad!!]

Yeah, like, when I get dirty! But it's snow right now, so it's mostly just the damp anyway, relax.

[hexcope]

Okay, but during the summer? And how are you even staying warm in just a tent? I know you have fur, but it can only do so much. What about a space heater?

[rudelanguage]

Who cares about summer when it's winter? And--I mean, if I'm cold, I'm cold. That's life! [so used to living in squalor, this doesn't seem like the concern it ought to be. after a flap of the arm, she grabs a clump of cloth so she can lift the pot off the fire and plop it on the ground.]

That's what all the extra blankets and stuff are for. Nobody's complained about missing them yet!

[beat.]

I think.

[she looks over.] Right? I don't check.

[hexcope]

[And, perhaps seemingly randomly, this starts to irritate Jayce.]

You don't have to be cold. That's not life, that's intentionally suffering for no reason. You could be warm and safe, with actual resources, and you're choosing this because you're being stubborn for no real reason.

[rudelanguage]

For no real reason. [she drops her voice a bit in mockery, then scoffs, plopping back down in the snow.] Sure. No real reason. I'm just doing this for no real reason. Okay, guy. Why do you gotta shit on me every time we talk?

[hexcope]

I'm not-

[He groans in frustration and presses his palms over his eyes, leaning back. There's clearly a tension in him that he wants to do something about, but then he sighs instead, his shoulders drop, and he lowers his hands.]

Nevermind. Sorry. Here.

[He holds out the tea bags.]

[rudelanguage]

[she takes them and, after a cursory sniff, drops both into the pot, staring at them for a quiet beat.]

...I already told you my reasons. [it's muttered. These buildings fucking creep me out and I'm stupid, okay? I'm not even a PERSON, okay?]

[hexcope]

Yeah. I heard them. Closed walls, glass eyes.

[He doesn't say anything more beyond that, just stares into the boiling pot of water. If the silence lingers long enough, he admits:]

Robert says I have control issues. He's probably right.

[rudelanguage]

[one ear up, one ear down, warily:] Is Robert one of the Victors, or...?

[hexcope]

He's a doctor. Surgeon, specifically. I helped build him a new arm.

[rudelanguage]

Like...one that moves? Or just... [she flaps her arm out straight, elbow locked. peg leg, but arm. peg arm.]