Zompania Draft - Draftees only, days 1-3.5

[lucetimods]

Who: All Draftees
What: This is your death. Followed by your time-traveling life and desperate bomb hunting.
When: From May 22 to May 20 to early May 23 (days 1-4)
Where: Zompania
Summary: Information post here
Rating: Varies on thread, please mark explicit material.

This post is for the draftee-only portion of the Zompania draft--the day 3 death, time travel to day 1, and then the events until the arrival of the reinforcements. Be sure to use the above info post for any plotting needs you might have. Enjoy!

Please note that there is a specific top-level comment thread for:

• The day 3 arrival of the draftees and the 6 hours that follow until the bomb is dropped
  
• Death--This thread can be treated as REFERENCE ONLY. Responding to it isn't necessary.
  
• Threads prior to departing for Zompania--post resurrection freak outs, arguments over how to proceed, etc.

All other threading, from day 1 until the reinforcements arrive, should be conducted as normal.

Be sure to tag this post appropriately: [canon] character name

Comments

[thelittlemacthatcould]

[For all he has tried to approach unfamiliar people and ideas with an open mind, he can’t pretend he begins to understand what it’s like to be charged with the vehement emotion not only to hurt but to kill, to kill and to come to terms with it. And he hopes he's never so changed by pain that he will.

They are of very different worlds not only in the physical sense; he sees this now. There are reasons why they are who they are and Firo’s firm conviction is a wall he can’t burst through or reason his way around.

If they can’t agree, he’d like them to come to a point where they can at least respect each others’ perspectives regardless. But for the moment it feels like wishful thinking on both sides and he can’t afford to burn much more energy on hope or on struggling to absorb what’s been said between them while his head's throbbing viciously.]

You jus’… [He sighs roughly, feeling more than a little queasy as he rubs at his forehead a moment before letting his hand drop heavily to his side.] …do what you gotta do… and I’ll do what I gotta do. Okay? [A beat.] Now y'gonna let me go, or what?

[foundafamily]

[Firo silences the voice in his head that protests Mac isn't going to do what he needs to do. But that's exactly what Mac wants to stop arguing about, so he instead takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment. He wishes it would do more to calm himself down.]

Fine.

[He lets go abruptly, not bothering to ease off his grip first. He slips his hands into his pockets and wait to see which direction Mac's going. He's not sure if he wants to follow at a distance or just go the other way.

But he's not so angry and not so stubborn that he doesn't care. So, against his instincts, he opens his mouth again:]

...You take care.

[thelittlemacthatcould]

[Between the tension thick in the air between them and what the day has thrown at him, he isn't prepared for the well-meaning afterthought and blinks back like someone who hasn't heard a nice word in his life, at loss for what to say while being tugged back and forth between stubborn anger and awkwardness and guilt. He studies Firo at length, the lines of his chest and shoulders stiff as if he's expecting to be struck at. But the look in his darkened eyes is softer and more unguarded than it has been in the past few minutes.

He swallows, lips pursing.]

You too.

[And though his tone is heavy and flat and he looks every bit like death warmed over, he means it. He knows he means it, deep down. Because, at the end of the day, Firo is someone he cares for and will always find a way to try and understand, at best, and make excuses for, at worst. Someone who he'll never feel sorry he met.

But against every fierce instinct to pair up and find safety in numbers he finds himself turning away, his need for emotional space greater than his need for the company of a friend. Even if, up until now, he had dealt with gnawing loneliness, his voice hoarse from disuse.

And as he moves away, placing a greater distance between them with every half-reluctant step, some part of him at the very back of his mind can only wonder how much he’ll come to regret his choice.]