Clayton Young (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alittlebitofhell) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
genessia2017-05-14 05:18 pm
alittlebitofhell) wrote in genessia2017-05-14 05:18 pm
Entry tags:
Action | Audio
Action | Outside the Bay | Midday
Broad shoulders and grim expression trained on the hologram as it begins to repeat itself for the third time cast a striking and imposing figure. With each successive repetition of Weiss' holographic address, Clay looks more angry, his eyes become harder and something like unease settles into his shoulders stiffening his stance as though he's prepared for some sort of attack that never comes. After the third replay of her recorded message, he turns his head to the stand of pamphlets, finally something beyond grim dissatisfaction gracing his features: confused concern. He takes them easily enough, shoving them into the back pocket of his jeans rather than reading them, except the one referring to Genessia City. That one he opens fully, to the map, visually associating his location with the indicated one on the folded paper.
He reaches into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out the key that had been in the box he'd been left and then looks up in the direction indicated on the map.
"Free room and board's never good." The statement is made to himself rather than anyone else who may be around, though the latent telepathy he's been graced with will alert him to anyone walking up (unless their minds can't be detected that way) and he'll turn to regard them. There's a pistol in a shoulder holder under his left arm, within ready reach if he needs it, and from the look of him, he knows how to use it.
Audio | Open
(A few hours after he arrives, Clay decides to go ahead and address this Network. Normally, he'd have taken the time to get the lay of the land himself, but Earth, his Earth, has a very set way of doing things, something to build on. This place? "Starting at Square One" didn't exactly capture it.)
I'll cut right to the chase. I get there's a bunch of us trapped here. I get there's no way back, at least apparently. I'll bite for now. So, show of hands: who's been here a while, or who's been here for a bit and got some info, they'd be willing to share with a newbie?
Also, the name's Young. Clayton Young. So, what are we dealing with here? Aliens? Covert government experiments? Give a guy a hand.
Broad shoulders and grim expression trained on the hologram as it begins to repeat itself for the third time cast a striking and imposing figure. With each successive repetition of Weiss' holographic address, Clay looks more angry, his eyes become harder and something like unease settles into his shoulders stiffening his stance as though he's prepared for some sort of attack that never comes. After the third replay of her recorded message, he turns his head to the stand of pamphlets, finally something beyond grim dissatisfaction gracing his features: confused concern. He takes them easily enough, shoving them into the back pocket of his jeans rather than reading them, except the one referring to Genessia City. That one he opens fully, to the map, visually associating his location with the indicated one on the folded paper.
He reaches into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out the key that had been in the box he'd been left and then looks up in the direction indicated on the map.
"Free room and board's never good." The statement is made to himself rather than anyone else who may be around, though the latent telepathy he's been graced with will alert him to anyone walking up (unless their minds can't be detected that way) and he'll turn to regard them. There's a pistol in a shoulder holder under his left arm, within ready reach if he needs it, and from the look of him, he knows how to use it.
Audio | Open
(A few hours after he arrives, Clay decides to go ahead and address this Network. Normally, he'd have taken the time to get the lay of the land himself, but Earth, his Earth, has a very set way of doing things, something to build on. This place? "Starting at Square One" didn't exactly capture it.)
I'll cut right to the chase. I get there's a bunch of us trapped here. I get there's no way back, at least apparently. I'll bite for now. So, show of hands: who's been here a while, or who's been here for a bit and got some info, they'd be willing to share with a newbie?
Also, the name's Young. Clayton Young. So, what are we dealing with here? Aliens? Covert government experiments? Give a guy a hand.
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Sure thing. It's always nice to have an in.
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Sure thing, kid. And thanks.