Ricki Tarr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rickitikitarr) wrote2015-04-12 01:53 pm
rickitikitarr) wrote2015-04-12 01:53 pm
3. could be worse could be raining
[Audio]
These things, they're coming through holes in the fabric of... well, space itself. Is there any way to close them?
[Is the technical explanation that Ricki stumbles for. It's only a seventies scifi explanation of a phenomenon he barely understands, but it's what he's got right now.]
It means that until they stop opening, any of the normal tactics- a perimeter, a systematic sweep- are totally useless. They can crawl right in behind us. Normally I'd suggest gathering everyone in the mess and working our way out, but if a tear opens up in the back, it has the potential to turn into a slaughter. We actually may be best keeping the vulnerable on their own, in their rooms, while everyone who can tries to clear down the halls.
[Then, silence, and finally two quick gun shots. The feed remains dead a little bit, as he gets his adrenaline down. His voice is still low, very level, when he can continue.]
But that means people may be trapped without food. It might be worthwhile to get volunteers to make runs for their neighbours. It'd be better to work in pairs to accomplish that.
Anyone game? [And, belatedly.] Anyone trapped?
[He'd do a better job of organizing this if it weren't on the fly. But as it is, he can hear something approaching. Heavy footsteps that may only just be captured by the feed. Then there is the sound that some residents will recognize as a gun being reloaded, before the feed cuts off.]
[Spam]
[Ammunition is scarce, but Ricki makes the most of what he has, hoarding it closely as he makes his perilous way through the halls of the ship, sometimes hunting, occasionally being hunted. The gun helps against the felhunters, and he isn't shy of shooting the succubi either, but on more than one memorable occasion he gets into it with a golem and ends up having to run for it, god damn it.
He'll help and need help, both in reasonably equal measure.]
These things, they're coming through holes in the fabric of... well, space itself. Is there any way to close them?
[Is the technical explanation that Ricki stumbles for. It's only a seventies scifi explanation of a phenomenon he barely understands, but it's what he's got right now.]
It means that until they stop opening, any of the normal tactics- a perimeter, a systematic sweep- are totally useless. They can crawl right in behind us. Normally I'd suggest gathering everyone in the mess and working our way out, but if a tear opens up in the back, it has the potential to turn into a slaughter. We actually may be best keeping the vulnerable on their own, in their rooms, while everyone who can tries to clear down the halls.
[Then, silence, and finally two quick gun shots. The feed remains dead a little bit, as he gets his adrenaline down. His voice is still low, very level, when he can continue.]
But that means people may be trapped without food. It might be worthwhile to get volunteers to make runs for their neighbours. It'd be better to work in pairs to accomplish that.
Anyone game? [And, belatedly.] Anyone trapped?
[He'd do a better job of organizing this if it weren't on the fly. But as it is, he can hear something approaching. Heavy footsteps that may only just be captured by the feed. Then there is the sound that some residents will recognize as a gun being reloaded, before the feed cuts off.]
[Spam]
[Ammunition is scarce, but Ricki makes the most of what he has, hoarding it closely as he makes his perilous way through the halls of the ship, sometimes hunting, occasionally being hunted. The gun helps against the felhunters, and he isn't shy of shooting the succubi either, but on more than one memorable occasion he gets into it with a golem and ends up having to run for it, god damn it.
He'll help and need help, both in reasonably equal measure.]
no subject
[Though he couldn't tell Dean why, exactly. Call it gut instinct.]
I'm going to keep prying.
no subject
[Dean doesn't exactly trust Ricki, but he knows he could do worse; at the very least they both seem invested in action now instead of later, they both have ideas, they're both on their feet. He could do a lot worse, for now.]
Some people are missing. Haven't noticed if there's a pattern yet, nothing like a complete list, but some heavy hitters have checked in. Infirmary's secure.
no subject
[Since he has him, because he's running into a consistent problem;]
I took your advice and I'm working mostly with knives here, now, but it's doing fuck all against the big creatures, the stony ones. Bullets too, for that matter. Have you come across one of those, yet? I can't find a single thing to do about them but run.
no subject
[This is grim, acknowledging; he's run into them too and he has no solid course of action yet.]
They're rock. If I had some explosives, those might do the trick - or they're mostly topside. I almost got one over the rail before I had to run, too.
no subject
-the person who I was talking about is reportedly a constellation, by the way. I'll let you know when I know more.
no subject
[This is not as sarcastic as it would be coming from most people; yeah it's ridiculous, but Dean has heard some ridiculous shit in his lifetime.
He hesitates before hanging up, though, even though there's nothing useful to really be added. His voice is more uncertain than it has been this entire time when he continues.]
Are there... do you hear dogs barking? Sometimes?
no subject
Want to see the corpse? I can turn the feed on it, if you need.
[Prepared to backtrack, he hasn't made it far.]
no subject
[Quickly, abruptly certain of himself again. That might be relief under there too, shriveled and worn with disuse.]
Thanks.
no subject
[He agrees, and doesn't ask. This isn't the time, and he wouldn't want to share if the situation were reversed. Instead he cuts the feed- for now. It's a matter of time before something else happens.]