Welcome to Gaia! ::

Rep was frankly startled for the first time in a while not to be met with an American accent. It was enough to derail him for a few seconds of staring before his brain caught up with the rest of him. "Eh. Well its currently. April third. Twentythirteen. So probably a while, you pod people tend to be sleeping a long ******** time."

He had no qualms with staring in his usual intense fashion as the other hunter gathered his wits, some predatory part of his brain fixated on how fragile the guy looked. He couldn't help but think how easily he could destroy him, weaponless as he was, and the smug smirk that resulted was out of his control.



<>

He leaned a hand on the pod, indifferent to the fact he had just invaded the unfortunate guy's personal space. "But you are up now, that's all that matters. And you are on Deus Ex Machina."

"Aye, thirteen. Unlucky for some. Unlucky for you." there was a very definite delight in watching the newbie squirm. "I'm guessing from your face you overslept."

Rep's grin broadened to encompass teeth. It wasn't a pleasant one. "What happens now is that you leave here and you totter on over to the weapons cavern and you get lumped with your new head roommate for the rest of your life wether you like it or ******** not. You go in there a human and you come out something far far more." He couldn't help the edge of zeal in his voice. "You see, it sounds ******** crazy, but here we get weapons man. Weapons that used to be ******** people. We can call them up and they make us ******** TOUGH. Like you wouldn't believe."

He chuckled and clapped Al on the back perhaps a little too hard. "The only ******** tradeoff is you are going to be fighting s**t you wished never existed. Dragons! Yetis! Demons! And you might ******** die trying. Plus they sometimes attack here too. You want to get some good ******** strong friends to look out for you if you want to survive even a month, someone to take you under their wing."

He puffed himself up unsubtly. "I'm as strong as they come. I might consider extending you that ******** courtesy, provided you aren't a ******** weedy waste of space."

Rep looked pleased with himself as he threw an arm across Al's shoulders, and arm that was all muscle and had a grip like a vice. "You'll get used to it. First priority is get your a** down to that cave and get yourself kitted out. You never know when s**t will go tits up here man, you want to be armed when it does."

"Come on and I'll point you in the right direction." Rep said with that same overbearing friendliness that bordered on the intimidating, and without waiting for Al to agree or not - dragged him off in the direction of the weapon's cave.

The sensation of cold returned first. Then came the burning in his lungs, the ache in his neck, the discomfort that came from staying still for too long. It was too real to be a dream. Theron grimaced slightly, feeling like he was resurfacing after a long dive. Accordingly, he took an unsteady breath (cold, stale air) and forced his eyes open, squinting against the sudden light.

He didn't remember this -- being trapped inside some kind of container. Maybe it was a dream; it was certainly getting hard to tell them apart, with how many strange things had happened to him lately. With another breath, he moved his hands and arms, shifting his whole body. Everything felt stiff and strange, like his brain had forgotten how the rest of him worked, but he oriented himself as quickly as he could.

Rolling his shoulders, he pushed away from the surface he'd been lying against, feeling at the door for some kind of release mechanism.

There...was a release mechanism, right?

Death. She remembered dying. And yet, if she were dead, how did she have memories? Or dreams? Or thoughts at all. For a long time there were no answers to these questions, only the never ending darkness and the constant flashes of battle and a much more peaceful life from before. Stretching and carrying into one another, on and on. Until today.

Something managed to seep through the darkness to stir the sleeping figure enclosed in one of the many pods. A demand that refused to go unanswered. Not exactly a voice, but more then a feeling. Whatever it was, it had lavender eyes snapping open with a start before snapping closed almost as fast as the light, dim as it was, struck her as painfully as a blow to the temple. She winced, tiny hands lifting, one to press over her eyes, the other to grope blinding in front of her.

Glass met her fingertips, then, with a whoosh of cool air against face and skin, the glass was gone. It made her blink, squinting before her as the pod opened and she was free to.. To what? Where was she?

Messaging her temple, Peyton leaned forward, staring both ways down what looked like rows of endless pods. "The ********..?" Maybe she was still dreaming.. This setting reminded her very forcefully of some scifi horror flick.