[ The rock went right through the guy like he wasn't even there, which didn't answer nearly as many questions for Wolfwood as he wanted it to. There's still no proof that he isn't just hallucinating wildly. Or maybe this is a dream, his alcohol-soaked brain telling him what he's already known – that he's here for a bad time and not a long time.
The ghost faded out, but the voice got stronger, which made a kind of sense that he decided to just go with. It was also a bit of a relief not to have to keep looking at himself. He didn't just look older – he looked different, in a way that made him worry. Was that difference the result of more sessions with that fucker Priest William? Did he want to even know, if that was the case? ]
Maybe they fucked with your memories last time and not just your body, old man.
[ And really, there was always the possibility that none of this was real and that he was back in the lab, that this was a test or a training session or, fuck, just a holding pen for his mind while some horrendous shit was being done to his body. It would sure explain why there wasn't anything out here. Even the towns he'd seen so far had looked wrong, although it was hard to place just how. The ship metal didn't look the same as what he was used to, maybe. The shit left in the streets, those treasures from the past that people had dropped in their panic, it hadn't looked right, somehow. Fuck, he didn't know anything about art or science, but even he could tell when something was off, and this whole planet right now was definitely messed up. ]
I don't know why I'm here. I don't know how I got here, or even where here is. [ Shit. Talking this much on a dry throat was really the worst. He swallowed hard, but there was nothing to swallow. ] You want me to make it to December, how about you first point me to the nearest filling station, huh? Dry goods? [ He leaned back against that rock wall, taking advantage of the bit of shade it provided. ] You could manifest a bar with dancing girls, if you really want to impress.
no subject
The ghost faded out, but the voice got stronger, which made a kind of sense that he decided to just go with. It was also a bit of a relief not to have to keep looking at himself. He didn't just look older – he looked different, in a way that made him worry. Was that difference the result of more sessions with that fucker Priest William? Did he want to even know, if that was the case? ]
Maybe they fucked with your memories last time and not just your body, old man.
[ And really, there was always the possibility that none of this was real and that he was back in the lab, that this was a test or a training session or, fuck, just a holding pen for his mind while some horrendous shit was being done to his body. It would sure explain why there wasn't anything out here. Even the towns he'd seen so far had looked wrong, although it was hard to place just how. The ship metal didn't look the same as what he was used to, maybe. The shit left in the streets, those treasures from the past that people had dropped in their panic, it hadn't looked right, somehow. Fuck, he didn't know anything about art or science, but even he could tell when something was off, and this whole planet right now was definitely messed up. ]
I don't know why I'm here. I don't know how I got here, or even where here is. [ Shit. Talking this much on a dry throat was really the worst. He swallowed hard, but there was nothing to swallow. ] You want me to make it to December, how about you first point me to the nearest filling station, huh? Dry goods? [ He leaned back against that rock wall, taking advantage of the bit of shade it provided. ] You could manifest a bar with dancing girls, if you really want to impress.