wake up, emergency

[doxing]

WHO: sombra and you
WHERE: all over the place, leave no fork dispenser left unturned
WHEN: february 14th to february 26th
WHAT: a catch-all log for open and closed prompts throughout the event, sombra tries to help
WARNINGS: none right now, but will update if it's needed

(collection of prompts for the event, which is all entirely open to wildcarding, but if you want to plot anything with me please hit me up on plurk at frooting! this will mostly be zero gravity shenanigans and a lot of mishaps with forks... since sombra got the first clue from her puzzle box...)

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best boop icon

[hellshot]

Noone will be filming it. And noone will be seeing it. I am firmly staying in one shape until this gravity bullshit is figured the hell out.

[Which is inconvenient, as turning to smoke helps burn off rotted flesh and skin. Gross, right.

He even touches down on the metal grating of the floor, using a hand to pull himself down with the handy use of the railing. Ugh.]

And shut up. How the hell was I supposed to know it was a poor plan. It isn't like I've ever dealt with this kind of shit before.

Do you have any information? What the hell even happened here.

[doxing]

Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. (waving a hand that lifts off of the railing.) I know about as much as you do, anyway. I tried to hack into the terminals again, but they're obviously dead. Even the ones working on auxiliary power...

(voice lowering a little, as her mood treads on serious.)

I don't know if this ties into Oros, but... I thought a lot about what you said when I was— (no, she still can't and she convinces herself that it's for the best to keep those kinds of feelings on the down-low, especially from reaper.) I'm not gonna get into it, or go insane with conspiracy theories, but it's too big a coincidence.

(finally looking back up to him, unsure when she looked away.)

Right? Tell me it is.

[hellshot]

[You're damn right whatever he says. He turns his head, shooting Sombra a frown--not that she'll see it--crossing his arms. With everything dead on the ship, of course even Earth's most powerful Hacker can't do much to deal with their current crisis.

But what's more important is the point she brings up. Clawed fingers of his glove moves up to tap near one of the hollow eyeholes on his mask, a low laugh escaping through. Black smoke rises from under it, but kind of hangs in the air around him instead of floating away. He could make a dig about the two weeks Sombra avoided him, how she'd thrown him out, but, instead...]

Insane conspiracy theories? It's not insane when you think about the two factors we have to consider here. On board this ship we have:


A: A fleet and crew of people who joined the Eluvio on their own accord, who want to be here, who have purpose here.

B: A group of nearly-extinct aliens with no home anymore, nowhere to go, and with the knowledge that everything they knew and everyone they knew are either homeless alongside them or dead--alongside the distinct possibility that their rescuers here had something to do with the destruction of their home.

C: A group of individuals pulled out of their respective homes into a place that is wholly unknown to them, not home to them, and with no promise of ever returning home and are therefore forced to be part of the collective and crew.

It's not a conspiracy when you consider that there are people here with every reason to be fucking with all of us right now.