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WHO: Shaw and open
WHERE: Various parts of the ship
WHEN: December 22
WHAT: Getting her bearings, trying not to kill people, reuniting with a ghost
WARNINGS: There will be references to psychological torture and reality warping via immersion simulation and mentions of suicide.

[ ooc: Will match format. ]

open: hallway to the promenade

The numbers never stop. That was the first thing she learned when she joined the Program. That's only natural, isn't it? Someone, somewhere, will always be plotting something. Of course their numbers keep coming. They just don't know that they're being watched. For a little while, the all-seeing eye went away for a side project known as self preservation. A fight for her life, as Root put it. Whether she's alive or not is still something Shaw hasn't decided, but what she does know is this: she is back. And it's a fortunate thing too, because Shaw wouldn't have known what to do with herself if The Machine shut down for good.

Things seemed to be going swimmingly this morning. The Machine gave her a number. Shaw picked up her gun, took her dog, and went out to investigate.

Now she's here.

No guns, no dog, just strange faces saying strange things, like 'spaceship' and 'anomaly' and other kinds of nonsense. Shaw might've knocked a few of them around when she first stepped out of the glass tube, but nothing that would leave a permanent mark. Probably. There are words she does understand, like 'brig' and 'airlock,' and while she's had plenty of Samaritan's bullshit, maybe she's curious about this next new challenge that she reins it in just enough to find out more. Because this has to be Samaritan, right? A elaborate simulation with some sort of design. The alternative is too ridiculous to entertain.

She sits through 'orientation' with a disgruntled frown. By the time a crewman shows up to hand her a duffle bag, her face reflects exactly how unamused she is by these shenanigans. He tries to lead her out to the promenade but doesn't get very far. She grabs him by the collar and shoves him against the wall of the ship's corridor.

"What's this really about? You know you can't break me. You want The Machine, you find another way."

If this is Samaritan, it'll have to learn eventually how futile this charade is.

open: hallways around the ship

The poor schmuck didn't know anything, or pretended not to. Shaw didn't think it would be so easy to get answers anyway. In any case, the threat of being jettisoned from the airlock, while amusing, doesn't sound all that great for the short term. Maybe she'll arrange for it when it seems like the only way to end it. Putting a bullet through her head is an option too, now that she's got her weapons back. Bear too, which was a nice touch, even for Samaritan.

She's got to hand it to the AI, this is one helluva sim, if it is one.

"I guess we can play along, hm?" she says to Bear, who perks up as she opens the doors to her chambers. "Let's see what they've got."

She tucks her weapons under her leather jacket and lets the dog sniff ahead unleashed. She'll follow his lead for now.

[ ooc: Feel free to encounter the dog first. He's a fairly large one (70 lb Belgian Malnois). He's a well trained military dog, so he's not going to attack without a command or an obvious threat. ]

closed: Root

[ Bear's onto something. He catches some scent, lets off a yelp (which is weird -- he sounds a little too emotional for a normal scouting mission) and takes off down the corridor. Shaw dashes after him, whizzing by bewildered looking bystanders so she can keep up.

He disappears around the corner. She catches up a few seconds later and sees an opening to a sterile looking room beyond. She draws her Beretta and slides up to the door frame. Her finger is on the trigger, ready. She peers into the room, scanning for Bear. ]

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"Excuse me!" Koumyou's voice rings out with a certain plaintive helplessness as he comes down the hall. He shows no hesitation whatsoever in approaching the woman and the crew member, frowning and knitting his brow as he observes the scene. "I'm lost again. This is such a confusing place, isn't it?"

Dressed in his bright white robe and most of the marks of his priestly rank, he'd be a far more impressive figure if only he didn't look like he was moments away from openly pouting.

"Th--the machine? I don't know what you mean..."

"Don't play stupid, I thought I earned a little more respect after the last time. Remember?"

The crewman stares at her wide-eyed. It's a good approximation of bewilderment, but Samaritan has always been clever with the sims. That was the point of it, so she couldn't tell what was real. This space place is definitely an elaborate new step-up, which must mean there's something else at play here. Is this supposed to be more subliminal? A representation of the literal? Before she can come to any conclusions on that, they're interrupted.

The crewman gapes at the guy (monk? something) and hesitates to answer. Shaw doesn't move, but her eyes glance at the newcomer sharply.

"I know you're lost." Why else would he stumble into a situation that most people should obviously steer clear of? And hinted in her no-nonsense tone of voice is her disinclination to help him get un-lost.

"And so are you, right? That's no good." The words are said with evidently sincere sympathy. "Why don't we find our way here together? Our friend here-" He offers the crew member a brief smile and an acknowledging inclination of his head. "-isn't in any position to point out the way."

He doesn't stop until he's just outside arm's reach- her's, not his. It's a subtle distinction.

Sympathy is the last thing Shaw needs right now; she wants answers. Though even on a good day (the kind that doesn't involve getting abducted, at least), she's not much for the sympatico approach. 'Friend' and 'together' might sound very welcoming to some people, but it means very little to Shaw.

It doesn't escape her attention that he keeps advancing toward her, despite the scowl on her face. If she had a gun, she might be pointing it at him right now.

"Hmph."

She releases the crewman, but only because he probably doesn't know much. The man subtly backs away and disappears back inside the orientation room. Shaw turns her attention to the new guy.

"And what do you know about finding your way?"

[The last thing Root remembers is a world of pain, the warmth of her own blood, and The Machine telling her to hold on. She thinks of Sameen, and she's going to hold on and survive for her, she's sure, she's just going to close her eyes for a little bit now...

When she wakes up in a hospital bed, groggy and in pain but very much alive-- did The Machine have this medical room custom built? It looks far more advanced than any of the hospitals she's been in-- she smiles and thanks her lucky stars that she's going to get her second chance at a fairy tale ending after all. But reality comes crashing down when a stranger in sci-fi clothing tells her everything she needs to know about her new life, and she listens in with as much attention as she can muster at the moment, her mind reeling from all the information.

She's either dead, abducted by aliens, or under Samaritan's clutches in a wild simulation just like they put Shaw through for nine months. But it can't be a simulation because Sameen isn't here with her, and it probably isn't aliens either, so that leaves only one option out, and Root politely asks the crewman for a moment alone after the orientation session is over.

She's never going to see Sameen again. Or hear The Machine's voice in her ear.

After what feels like a long time, she wipes the tears away and sits up, whimpering in pain as she does so. Isn't she supposed to be dead? How come she's feeling so much pain in her afterlife? Gunshot wounds are not the kind of pain she enjoys, thank you very much.]

Mother did tell me that watching too many sci-fi movies would mess with my head, [she says to herself as she puts her dog tags on. The uniform is pretty badass, but she's going to skip that for now, choosing instead to put on the clothes she was wearing when she rescued Harold; they're clean now, and thank goodness for that. Root isn't squeamish by any means, but not even she could remain unaffected by the evidence of her own death.

She's still going through her duffle bag when she hears a sudden sound by the door, and the source of that noise crashes against her before she can even turn around, making her yelp in surprise. This isn't just a random Belgian Malinois: it's her favorite dog in the whole world.]

Bear, [she breathes out, dropping to her knees so she can give him a proper welcome. Root buries her face into his fur and tries to hold on to him, which is easier said than done, given how excited the dog is.] What are you doing here, buddy?

[ Shaw is trained for all kinds of situations, and many of them involve infiltrating unknown locations with little more than a gun in her hand. You can't always predict what you'll be walking into, which is why she never goes in half-cocked. Bear didn't raise any danger flags, but that could mean anything. She glances inside and freezes.

What the fuck.

She frowns and pulls back into the corridor. Very few things can rattle her, but there are rare exceptions. Seeing the dead rise is not exactly common, after all. What is this? A sick joke? Samaritan's attempt to prod at her non-existent emotions? It's disorienting and infuriating at the same time. Shaw grits her teeth, cocks her gun, and steps inside. ]

Now you're just pissing me off, [ she says in a low voice. Her gun isn't pointed at her yet, but that can change in the blink of an eye. ]

[Root doesn't see the other woman as she glances inside: all of her focus is on the dog currently trying to lick her chin rather enthusiastically. She chuckles, finding comfort in the familiarity of it all, and she's giving Bear all the pettings he deserves when her ears pick up on what seems to be the sound of a gun being cocked. But before she can even try to figure out the source of the sound, Sameen Shaw steps into the room, and to say Root feels shocked would be putting it very lightly. Shaw's words don't help matters, either, said so low they might as well have been a growl, and Root feels very thankful that she knelt down to hug Bear because she probably would have stumbled if she were standing up.]

Sameen?

[Her voice is quiet, almost childlike, and the shocked look on her face would have been comical if everything that is happening weren't so dead serious. She doesn't think of Shaw's words or what they mean, doesn't even spare a thought for the half raised gun that hasn't been lowered since the other woman stepped into the recovery ward. None of that matters right now: what matters is that Shaw is here and that they're together, even if the implications of it are rather alarming. Didn't Root think just now that she couldn't be in a simulation because Shaw wasn't here with her? Now that her favorite girl has made an appearance, Root doesn't know what to think, but she knows she can't just dismiss the possibility of it being a simulation. The other possibility, the chance that the three of them have been reunited in a space afterlife, is inconceivable: she doesn't want to believe that Bear and Sameen died too. She'd always known she'd probably end up dying, but they were never meant to.

Root blinks, realizing she's been staring at the other woman for a little while now, and gives Bear one last ear scratch before standing up. She moves a little awkwardly as she rises to her feet, lacking her usual gracefulness; she still feels pain all over her body.]

While I'm sure shooting something would make you feel better, please don't use me as target practice, [she tries to make her words come off as light and teasing, but the shaky little smile on her lips completely ruins the effect. Root takes a step closer.] Maybe we could find other, more interesting outlets for your anger?

[ Her voice is just like she remembers. It's not hard to forget, considering it's the voice The Machine chose after Root died.

After Root died.

That's what makes this entire scene completely fucked up. Samaritan isn't even trying to convince her of what is real anymore. Maybe by warping things completely around, it thinks it can shake her to her core. Because in all the simulations it put her through, it must have known there was one person in the world she couldn't kill. Well, fuck you, Samaritan.

They stare each other down for a while, silence ticking away. Shaw is a sniper, she's sat at perches for hours waiting for a shot. This is nothing. Except that it isn't.

Her fingers grip the gun tighter when 'Root' stands up, swaying to her feet. ]

Don't come any closer, [ she says warningly. The gun isn't up yet, but the tone of her voice makes it clear that it doesn't matter. ]

You steal her face, you think it's gonna change me? You don't know me.

[Root sees the way Shaw's fingers tighten on the gun, as much of a warning sign as the tone of her voice is, but she doesn't retreat or take a step back. If anything, it encourages her even further, because nothing short of a hail of bullets could keep her from getting close to Sameen Shaw, and she's counting on the other woman not to shoot her.

Or so she hopes.

Shaw's next words hurt a lot more than her bullet wounds did, though, and Root knows exactly why her favorite girl is reacting like that. She can't blame her: she isn't entirely sure if what she's experiencing is real, either. Maybe this is a simulation, but not Samaritan's: maybe The Machine downloaded her consciousness into a program designed to reunite her and Shaw once again, like an AI afterlife? Reality is essentially a simulation anyway, didn't she tell Shaw that much during their last moments together?]

Samaritan doesn't know you, but I do, [Root says quietly as she takes another step. She doesn't move that much closer, not yet, even though Bear's presence by her side helps reassure her a little; she's testing the boundaries, yes, but she's not suicidal. Root's lips curl into a little smile, almost self deprecating.] Honestly? I'm not entirely sure if this is real, either. But this better not be an afterlife, you and Bear aren't allowed to die. Not this soon.

[ Shaw doesn't believe in the afterlife. When you die, that's it. That's why you're supposed to feel sorrow and devastation when someone dies. Because there is no pleasant fiction like heaven to comfort yourself with. Fortunately (or is it the other way around?) for Shaw, she didn't have any of those things. The sadness or the loss, the need for comfort. All she had back then was anger.

She took it out on the missions, on Samaritan, on Root's killer. It left her wondering more than ever what the fuck was wrong with her. She knows Root was unlike anyone else. Some might use the word special, but that just sounds much too idiotic. Yet something inside her acknowledges that she should've felt something.

All she could do was pick up a gun and do the thing she was best at doing.

It all comes full circle. Her anger, her gun. ]

You're the one who died. The Machine couldn't save you.

[ A hundred million outcomes and all of them the same. ]

[It's not like Root's much of a believer, either; the only afterlife she truly believes in is made entirely of circuitry and computer code. She meant what she said to Harold minutes before she was shot: as long as The Machine lives, they'll never die.

Unfortunately, her unshakable faith in The Machine and the knowledge that she will live on through Her for as long as She exists doesn't make her current situation any easier to handle. She knew, logically, that she was dead-- was 90% sure of it, really, given her injuries-- but it still rattles her to hear it like that, a confirmation that she did indeed die and that no one could save her, not even The Machine. Root blinks rapidly, biting her lower lip in the hopes that it will hide the way it started to tremble.]

War requires sacrifice, [she says quietly, thinking back to the times she talked about her own mortality with Harold. She'd hoped she would make it out of the war alive, of course, had wished fervently for her own version of a happy ending: surviving by Shaw's side. But she didn't, and it hurts, and Root almost reaches for the gunshot wound that killed her but catches herself in time. She steps closer once again.]

With the life I've led, a good end would have been a privilege. I... [she trails off, looking away, and Bear nuzzles her hand as if sensing how she's feeling. Root smiles down at him, a hint of sadness in her expression. She doesn't regret any of her decisions, but she wishes that things could have gone differently.] I never thought I'd have a happy ending, sweetie.

[ She flinches a little at the endearment. It's so Root somehow, but sounds so wrong if indeed this is Samaritan. There's confusion and agitation in her face, apparent in the dark furrow in her brow, the tense grip on her gun. She couldn't shoot her in the sim before. It's not like anything has changed since then.

Only the knowledge that Root is really truly gone.

Does that mean she can destroy the thing that looks like her? Samaritan's projection of what it thinks Shaw wants to see? ]

And this? What kind of ending is this?

[ Shaw isn't sure she's demanding the answer from Samaritan or Root. Like before, when The Machine took her voice, something doubles up, uncertainty and familiarity. ]

[Having made a career out of being a fixer and an assassin, Root has always paid close attention to everything that surrounds her, from human beings to her surroundings themselves. And when it comes to the people she cares about, Root pays even more attention, especially when the person in question is Sameen Shaw. She sees the way Sam flinches, reads the meaning behind the furrow in her brow, and it breaks her heart: while those reactions would have been insignificant on someone else, Shaw has always felt things differently, and the slight reactions and changes in facial expression tell volumes. Root takes a deep breath, but it comes out shuddery on the exhale.]

I don't know yet, [she answers, taking another step closer. She sees how tightly Sameen is gripping her gun, too, and it holds her back from doing what she truly wants to do: to close the distance between them and pull Sameen into her arms. Instead, she decides to be cautious, but only for Shaw's sake: the other woman's mind must be going through one hell of a ride, and Root wants to ground her, not destabilize her further.]

Maybe this isn't an ending at all. Maybe it's a new beginning, [Root swallows against the lump in her throat and presses on. She's always said the most ridiculous things at the most awkward or inadequate times, so why would right now be any different? If anything, the familiarity of it all helps her feel calmer, more grounded, and she definitely needs that. They both do.] A brand new sci-fi fairy tale for us to write. Together.

[ A fairy tale. A new beginning.

There are no such things. Not in the way that she thinks.

Doesn't Root know that she's already had her new beginning? Shaw hears it everyday. A disembodied voice that she sometimes forgets is not hers. It's not because she's sentimental though, is it? No one who ever knew Sameen Shaw could accuse her of that.

These machines, they think they know so much. They take on a human form to manipulate the feelings of others, but surely they understand that Shaw has none of those things. ]

And then what? You'll find a way to get to me? To the Machine? Haven't you had enough?

[For a small, fleeting moment, Root thinks she finally got to Sameen: that And then what? reminds her of how things have always been between them, with Root flirting and Shaw deflecting her advances with various degrees of annoyance and/or amusement. A small hopeful smile forms on her lips, but it fades as quickly as it appeared when it becomes obvious that no, she didn't manage to bring Sameen back to reality, and that hurts as much as finding out she really died in their world.

Root opens her mouth to speak only to close it again immediately after. She's been cautious so far, not wanting to push Shaw over the edge, but that hasn’t worked out at all, has it? Maybe the other woman needs the exact opposite: maybe she needs Root to push, to test her boundaries like she’s always done, and to hell with the consequences. Root hasn’t forgotten about the gun (she’s well aware that Sameen doesn’t need a gun in her hand to be frighteningly deadly, though) but she'll take her chances; after all, if the Eluvio's medical crew brought her back to life, surely they can mend her life-threatening injuries again, right? She's already in the medbay, too, so that'll save them the trouble of dragging her all the way in.

The pained little sound that forms in her throat is the only warning she gives the other woman before she closes the distance between them, a quiet Sameen falling from her lips as she brings Shaw into her arms. Contrary to their reunion just a week ago (has it only been a week for Shaw, too?) there is nothing cautious about her touch, no sense of gentleness as she clings to the smaller woman as if their lives depended on it. There's just desperation, pure and simple, so painfully clear in how tight her grip is, in how she buries her face against Shaw's shoulder.]

Sam, [she breathes out again, and before she can help it, she's asking Shaw about something she needs to know, for her own peace of mind.] Did She give you my message?

[ The reality is, Root's dead. She has been for some time. The sequence of events is lucid in Shaw's mind. Fusco tracked Root down to the morgue ... what was left of her. They buried her and went back to work. To finish her work, because if they didn't save the Machine, it would've all been for nothing.

Shaw tenses when Root steps closer. It's stupid and reckless to reach for someone who has their finger on the trigger. In the simulation, it was even easier to kill without consequence. She went for the headshot every time. What would Finch have thought? All his hard work, forgotten. Maybe Samaritan is counting on that one exception, the one person Shaw never killed.

The reality is, she doesn't know anymore.

If the last several months of her life actually happened, or if she's been cycling through a sim the whole time. If Samaritan is dead, or Root, or both. The Machine doesn't speak to her anymore. Did it ever?

She remembers clearly though, the odd little thing she told Shaw near the end. Shaw remembers because for that brief moment, she felt something other than anger.

That moment is in her mind now, as 'Root' pulls her close tightly. Shaw frowns but doesn't push away. ]

... message?

[Although Root remains blissfully unaware of the thoughts going through Sameen’s brain, she can make an educated guess of how well her mind is handling all of this. It’s a lot to take in, after everything Shaw went through in the last months, and it’s a testament to her strength that she’s still sane at all; Root knows that, if their places had been reversed, she would have probably broken a long time ago.

Shaw may be having a hard time accepting what they’re experiencing as reality, but she isn’t pushing Root away and she isn’t shooting her either, and those are very good signs. The hacker allows herself to breathe in Sam’s scent, taking in the smell of leather and gunpowder residue and shampoo that is so unmistakably Sameen, and thanks her lucky stars for whatever weird space-time anomaly allowed for them to meet again.

It takes her a moment to reply. Root doesn’t want to remember what it was like to die, but thinking back to those last moments is inevitable, given the current topic of conversation. So much pain, the warmth of her own blood, gentle hands pulling her out of the car. Tell her, please, spoken as she tried to focus on the nearest surveillance camera, but it was hard enough keeping her eyes open to begin with. Her shape. A straight line. An arrow, whispered as loudly as she could, and then she stopped speaking entirely. But The Machine never went quiet, remaining by her side until she died, taking on Sameen’s voice in those last minutes in a last desperate attempt to get her to hold on to life for a little longer.]

Yeah, [she whispers, swallowing against the lump in her throat that just won’t go away.] Remember our little talk about shapes?

[To be fair, it was mostly her doing the talking, but still.]

Before I died, I asked Her to tell you what shape you were, [there's a slight tremor to her voice when she mentions her own death, but she presses on, needing to give Sameen her message now just as much as she needed to back then. Root takes in a deep, shuddery breath.] A straight line. An arrow. She gave you my message... didn't She?

[ She remembers that moment. The last time she saw her alive, they were (what else) shooting guns at the agents of Samaritan. They had to get Harold out.

Bullets were flying. Glass shattering. The controlled chaos of a battlefield in the middle of New York, and Root wanted to talk about shapes. Even for her, that was weird. It didn't sound like a particularly sexy subject. Her flirting was usually more blatant. Of course, Shaw would find out later the rest of the story, the strange little ways Root's mind worked. The way she saw the world, the people in it, Shaw.

Shapes.

Maybe for a nerd, it's easier to think in geometric terms. Somehow though, she'd expected Root would think of people like code, synapses and complex programs that could be hacked like any sort of algorithm. But no. She had to think like Humpty Dumpty, as if people were shapes and shapes had meaning.

An arrow, she'd said. It's hard to imagine what exactly that meant to Root. All Shaw knows is what it meant to herself. Something sharp, straight, unbroken.

Samaritan never knew this. Never could know. Shaw's secrets stayed secret in her mind, no matter what the simulations put her through. So what is this, then? Who is she? ]

Root ...?

[Usually, Root does think of most people as computer code that she can hack into with no difficulty, sequences of 0s and 1s that are as flawed as they are unique (and boring, for the most part). But just like her found family, Sameen is not like those people: she’s special, far more so than anyone she’s ever known, and she’s different. How she thinks, how she acts, how she feels-- just because she’s wired differently doesn’t mean she’s a robot, and Root knows this-- everything about Shaw is delightfully different and that’s why Root loves her so much.

The truth is, what Shaw’s shape means to Root is almost the same as what it meant to Shaw: something sharp, unbroken, almost surgical in its precision, a force that can either harm or protect.

Sameen’s silence makes her wonder if she’s done the right thing by bringing this up at all, or if she’s miscalculated somehow and The Machine didn’t even give her her message. But then she speaks, and the sound of Root’s name is such a relief that the hacker feels as if her knees may give out at any second now.]

Yeah, [she breathes out, nodding against Sameen’s shoulder. She finally pulls back, moving away just enough to look at the other woman in the eye, and she meant for her hands to remain where they are, she really did-- holding on to Shaw’s shoulders, all but clinging to her by this point-- but she has to touch Sameen’s cheeks, to push some of those stray wisps of hair away from her beautiful face. Her lower lip is trembling and she’s dangerously close to crying yet again, but her smile is as bright and hopeful as it was when they reunited.] It’s me, sweetie.

[ This time, there is no flinch to that endearment. Maybe because she already heard it once. Or maybe because it sounds different this time. It's not like anything has changed about 'Root.' Only perspective. In a world that might or might not be real, perspective is everything.

Death is real, Shaw has seen it many times before. She's been the cause of it, too. A lot. But sometimes it's not permanent. Not in the world that Samaritan created around her.

And sometimes, maybe ... in places like these. Somewhere far away from everything she's ever known. It's not heaven or hell or in between. Just something different. The circulating air inside this med bay, the insular hallways and portholes looking out into the vacuum of space. The hollow echo of her footsteps against the steel floor, pinging off the belly of the ship. A dream or not? A sim or something more bizarre than imagination?

Real. ]

Fusco saw you in the morgue. Weeks ago. How long have you been here?

[Unlike what happened moments ago, Shaw doesn't react negatively when Root calls her 'sweetie', and that makes her so happy that her lips curl into a big honest smile, brighter than sunshine. She lets her hands rest against Sameen's cheeks, her thumbs rubbing gently along her skin.

She blinks when Shaw mentions it's been weeks since her last day on Earth, obviously surprised that so much time has passed already, although she's immensely glad to hear 'weeks' instead of 'years'. But more importantly, what exactly happened after she died? Did they make any progress at all? Did they lose anyone else?]

I have no idea, [she says with a quiet sigh.] The last thing I remember is being taken to a hospital, and then I woke up here, only a couple of hours ago.

[Is it just her imagination, or does Sam look a little less tense than before? She feels less tense, like the instinct to fight has toned down just a little bit.]

What happened since then? [She takes one good look at the other woman, examining her for any injuries and to make sure she's okay; it's only then that Root recognizes the leather jacket Shaw is wearing as one of her own, and her eyes widen as a result. The implications behind that seemingly innocent gesture hit her hard enough for the tears to finally spill over, and Root immediately reaches up to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hands. She feels all warm and fuzzy inside, but she doesn't want Shaw to feel awkward about any of this, so she brings her hands down again, placing them on Sameen's shoulders. She touches the leather jacket as if she's smoothing it, pretending that the piece of clothing does in fact have a few invisible wrinkles here and there.] Love the jacket, by the way.

[Ax doesn't really hang around his chambers much. Honestly, he's barely spent any time in them since he arrived, preferring to sleep in the atrium. Nonetheless he's been doing his own scouting while he's been here, and it would have to take him to this area of the ship eventually.

(He doesn't really like it much. The claustrophobia gets to him here even in human form, even normally it's at least tolerable. How can humans stand it in space without even a dome? The atrium is only barely sufficient to keep him from going crazy.)

He sees the dog first. Being aware of the animals around him is an old habit, and he immediately registers that he's never seen it before. That must mean a new arrival.

He stands still, lets the dog investigate him, and waits. Sure enough, a woman rounds the corner after it. (Another human. Sigh.) Older, but he recognizes the cautious way she holds herself for what it is: someone else who knows never to let their guard down. Possibly a kindred spirit, but Ax still feels himself tense in response.

He holds up a hand as she approaches in a way that is hopefully non-threatening.]

Hello. Have you arrived recently? Welcome.

Edited 2016-12-24 01:16 (UTC)

[ Why a spaceship, of all places? Maybe it's some kind of metaphor designed to get into her subconscious mind, but it's hard to wrap her head around it. Relevant, irrelevant, none of that matters in the big wide universe, is that it? Shaw knows that whatever they're trying to pull, it's out of futile desperation. If they could forcibly yank information from her head, they would've done so a long time ago.

She walks through the corridors with a watchful eye, trying to pick up any hint of the real game at hand. She loses sight of Bear around the corner, but only for a second. He's sniffing at someone, apparently more out of curiosity than caution. Shaw doesn't let her guard down, though. She pauses a few feet away. ]

Bear.

[ The dog cocks his head at her and trots back to her side. She studies the kid carefully. She won't return the greeting, but she doesn't pull her gun either, at least. ]

Who are you?

[Well, her not immediately moving to hostility is promising.]

I am Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill.

[He pauses, as he remembers that for some reason his name seems to be difficult for humans. He'll never understand why, but communication is what's important here, so he'll overlook it.]

You may call me Aximili. I was brought to this ship, as you were. [He's not going to pretend he doesn't suspect it was on purpose.] We are on the same side.

[ For Shaw, hostility is always a possibility. Especially right now, when she's not in full control of her environment and can't really trust that what she's seeing is real. This 'Aximili' might just be another projection, a program designed by an AI to get inside her head. She's not going to trust him, just because he's polite.

She narrows her eyes dubiously. ]

... Which side is that?

[He spreads his arms in a way he knows to humans indicates openness, and is also a frequent part of people being dramatic on TV.]

The side that distrusts whoever is responsible for us being here.

[ That's the first reasonable thing she's heard. Which is also suspicious, but being in a simulation (or thinking you might be in one) can make you a little paranoid. ]

And do you know anything about that?

[He cocks his head.] I'm afraid I know as little as you do. [It's almost like it hurts him to admit.]

But I do know that none of us is here willingly, and any civilization that would take to space with engines this prone to error is extremely irresponsible at best.

[Yes, he always talks like this.]

.......

[ She stares at him for a minute. Is this guy for real? Really, this is the thought that goes through Shaw's mind right now. He's like a weird younger, spacey version of Finch, as if Samaritan decided to do a mock up of the guy and create someone who might say similar things as he would. Though in the case of Finch, he would talk about ASIs, not spaceships. ]

If this really is an error, that's more than irresponsible. [ It's infuriating. Shaw's fingers twitch a little. (Un?)fortunately, she's not armed with anything right now. ]

Who's in charge, here?

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hallway to the promenade

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closed; recovery ward

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hallways around! i'm great at subject lines!

sorry for the delay!

dw about it holidays kicked my ass too

<3

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