Welcome to Gaia! ::

"What are you talking about? You didn't ask either of the magic questions," Jack retorted. "Which would you prefer? Grixlie or Chinabreath? I'm me." He twisted his hair harder and considered cutting it just to avoid the incredible hassle that was maintenance. "Clone's probably down where they keep the others. I plan on going down to visit it as soon as I possibly can."

He sighed and mentally mapped out his future course: down the stairs once Chel was out, back into his room, grab clothes, go back out, get his things again, and then return here he guessed, go from there. It sounded exhausting in spite of his previous eagerness to go and see the clone.

"Others, yeah. We retrieved one of Taym's," he said. "That was our mission in the first place; finding mine was a bonus like I said. There's probably other copycats around, I've read people mentioning pits with faceless figures swarming them in mission reports, swearing they see their own faces there before they pass out." Just like that, genetic clones popping into existence like kernels. Like casual marvels of the scientific community. He had to laugh just a little.

In that span of time, one thought eventually interrupted his hundred scenarios of how he would approach the clone and what he would ask and whether it was easier to wait until promotion so that he might have access to as much as he could: and that thought was that his key were also in the bag he needed to retrieve. It would have been nice to remember that in his deep need to clean himself.

< Perhaps your brain is still cooked? >

He groaned.

"Shoulders, face, scalp, few parts of my back." The red spots were easy to pick out. "Don't sit yet. Do you know how to lock pick?" he asked abruptly.

"No. Listen, throw on some shorts and go grab my bag from the infirmary. I ******** forgot my keys with the rest of it," he explained, clearly distracted. His thumbs ran over her fingers in an automatic response, as if part of sunbaked Jack needed confirmation still that she was real. "Your goggles are in there, too. They came in handy. "

"Not moving." He vaguely registered the hurt look, though it was met with his usual lack of understanding as to what it was doing there. Did she take offense to doing things for him now?

< You have only just returned. > Owain touched on something uncomfortable, and with the mental equivalent of a shoulder check, Jack pressed on with his thoughts and fell into a daze.

The most he'd done while Chel was out was check the contents of her fridge. At least his hair was drying somewhat. "Still here, b***h," he answered from the couch, this time with her GBA and Sonic Advance to occupy him. He'd had a song loop in his head on and off since returning, so he hoped breaking it up with something different would help, though the motion and colors sometimes gave him nausea. Pausing the game, he set it aside and made to get up and take his bag. "Thanks."

Jack looked from the bag to her and said, "I am taking it easy, I just want clothes," and he sounded like a child. God, Mom.

Even though Chel didn't make an obvious move to force him to, however, something in his posture shifted and suggested he was standing down. It wasn't like he was uncomfortable with his state of dress in her room. "Don't know how you stand playing it forever anyway, it gives me a headache after a while. What do I owe you? A lap seat?"

"Congrats you're not dead sex, my favorite."

Sitting down after hearing the word talk sounded like dangerous territory again, but there he went taking a seat anyway because she brought up the magic word herself. "I don't know yet," Jack replied, and the excitement began to shine through again. His face lit up. "There's so much I could do, especially if I promoted first. I'd have to pinpoint how far in its development it's gone, see if I can get my hands on the studies about Taym's and compare them, run a comprehensive physical exam if they allow me, or at least a basic one to have a baseline reading of its health...I definitely need blood and tissue samples, I need to understand their makeup, what makes them so resilient to damage. None of them have been reported wielding a Fear weapon like we do, which either suggests they're incapable for some reason or they're still being experimented with, or perhaps that's just a secret weapon they'll throw at us later.

"But most of all, Chel, I want to talk to it." He stroked one her legs idly, up over the knee and towards her thigh and down again. "It looked so scared when I found it being bait in the pit. It needs guidance. It needs me."

He wrinkled his face. "I remember just fine, thanks." Subpar. Like anything that made him this eager could possibly be that.

"I appreciate the offer, but your clearance wouldn't work as well that high up, I'd imagine. Ami's, maybe," Jack mused. "Or Mimsy's. But I'm thinking of submitting myself for promotion soon anyway, that'd be best. The faster I can work to specializing, the better..."