It's probably the same old song and dance for those survivors coming her way now, but to AJ, this is a fresh, traumatizing new chapter in a string of hellish mishaps. Minutes ago she had been dying. She'd been manipulated into giving herself over to a sentient virus and it had been eating her from the inside out.
Now she's here. Weak as a kitten and about as ready to leap off the side of this twisted metal looking heap of shit, but she's breathing freely, and her head's as empty of whispers and suggestions and smug, conniving commands as the day she was born... It feels good. If she were alone, she'd be feeling really good.
The only thing that keeps her from reaching out to those hollering assholes coming her way is the fact that she thinks they're about to chase her down for food. She doesn't mean the kind she'd carry around in a backpack.
AJ bolts for it, mincing over the sun-scorched hull of the ship until she finds a jag in its side that she thinks will lead to something, anything, anywhere to hide. Her only saving grace is the shard of glass she'd found in medical when she'd fallen out of her little horrible goo-clone pod. At least she's not ass-naked out here; thank fuck for the few lockers that weren't empty.
She's not coming out until someone physically tries to roust her, and then if they do they might just find a shiv to their neck. Weakness around here, wherever this is, is about as likely to go over well for her as it would in the Box... or under it.
B A S E
Oh, AJ will get to know her neighbours, alright.
It's been three days since she skimped down from the side of the ship on her own, climbing the face like a drunken mountain goat and nearly paying the price for it. Her wrist had been sprained when she made that very last jump down to the loamy earth... or whatever this soil's planet was named after, and when she'd finally found water to dunk it in to cool it down, she'd recoiled almost immediately from the way it bit into her.
Fucking death trap, this jungle shit heap hell hole.
Since when was that ever different?
Just as in her previous experience, picking away at what this shanty town has put together is the best that she's come to finding a way to survive, and she's done so mostly by darting out in the gloaming of morning and during strategic points in the day when most of the scary looking fucks have either gone back to the ship or out into the wild green yonder. So far it's been working, but maybe this time she's gotten a little too cocky.
AJ is not the kind to grin and simper and make fake pleasantries when caught red-handed, but barring outright being chased down, she's going to keep ahold of what she's grabbed. "Finders keepers," she spits, those being the first words to make it from her head out of her mouth.
...Alright, so it's probably not the most airtight defence she could have come up with, but her brains have been addled by the heat and the fact that she's in some alien jungle far from home, and is waiting for the hammer to fall. She's got bigger problems... and she's also about to dart off again to coin a new phrase: sprinters minters, though she'll be damned if she yells that out.
AJ HArris | CRAU OC from Box | I'M A NEWBIE HELLO HI
It's probably the same old song and dance for those survivors coming her way now, but to AJ, this is a fresh, traumatizing new chapter in a string of hellish mishaps. Minutes ago she had been dying. She'd been manipulated into giving herself over to a sentient virus and it had been eating her from the inside out.
Now she's here. Weak as a kitten and about as ready to leap off the side of this twisted metal looking heap of shit, but she's breathing freely, and her head's as empty of whispers and suggestions and smug, conniving commands as the day she was born... It feels good. If she were alone, she'd be feeling really good.
The only thing that keeps her from reaching out to those hollering assholes coming her way is the fact that she thinks they're about to chase her down for food. She doesn't mean the kind she'd carry around in a backpack.
AJ bolts for it, mincing over the sun-scorched hull of the ship until she finds a jag in its side that she thinks will lead to something, anything, anywhere to hide. Her only saving grace is the shard of glass she'd found in medical when she'd fallen out of her little horrible goo-clone pod. At least she's not ass-naked out here; thank fuck for the few lockers that weren't empty.
She's not coming out until someone physically tries to roust her, and then if they do they might just find a shiv to their neck. Weakness around here, wherever this is, is about as likely to go over well for her as it would in the Box... or under it.
B A S E
Oh, AJ will get to know her neighbours, alright.
It's been three days since she skimped down from the side of the ship on her own, climbing the face like a drunken mountain goat and nearly paying the price for it. Her wrist had been sprained when she made that very last jump down to the loamy earth... or whatever this soil's planet was named after, and when she'd finally found water to dunk it in to cool it down, she'd recoiled almost immediately from the way it bit into her.
Fucking death trap, this jungle shit heap hell hole.
Since when was that ever different?
Just as in her previous experience, picking away at what this shanty town has put together is the best that she's come to finding a way to survive, and she's done so mostly by darting out in the gloaming of morning and during strategic points in the day when most of the scary looking fucks have either gone back to the ship or out into the wild green yonder. So far it's been working, but maybe this time she's gotten a little too cocky.
AJ is not the kind to grin and simper and make fake pleasantries when caught red-handed, but barring outright being chased down, she's going to keep ahold of what she's grabbed. "Finders keepers," she spits, those being the first words to make it from her head out of her mouth.
...Alright, so it's probably not the most airtight defence she could have come up with, but her brains have been addled by the heat and the fact that she's in some alien jungle far from home, and is waiting for the hammer to fall. She's got bigger problems... and she's also about to dart off again to coin a new phrase: sprinters minters, though she'll be damned if she yells that out.