forum "the world is over-" "maybe, but its our world now" (large group - open 5/7) **PLEASE JOIN** (or at least look at...)

Started September 21, 2021 by @CaseyJ group

tune

3110 didn't respond, either to being cut or being carried. He continued to stare at the ground, or sky. Though, if prompted, the man would walk on his own, it was slow, but basic motor functions were slowly returning to him, like blinking once or twice when a something passed by his face. His brain was essentially rebooting, and it might take a while for him to return to base status. At the rate his functions were returning, though would be back anywhere from half an hour to an hour. The red-head didn't seem too bothered by anything happening around him, following anyone who told him to follow. It was almost unsettling, to anyone unused to a dead-eyed stare.

Chet nodded at her stiffly. "I'll keep up." He had what he needed, and there was no way he was falling behind, not with his chance for vengeance so close.

Sean picked up the discarded tracker, walking over to the trees and throwing it up into the trees. He hummed and went to follow Z. He threw it because, well, it was better to be farther away from them, besides, it could make the gov think that 3110 got picked off by some animal rather than meeting a group of people.

Z heard both of their footsteps behind her as she continued to make her way back to the scrapyard. They weren't going the most straight forward way back, in case the group was being followed or one of the two behind them decided to turn traitor. She didn't bother with idle chit chat as she led them for the next few hours out of the forest and into the desert. And then eventually to the scrapyard where they headed straight to the old storage shed they had transformed into their home, "Make yourselves at home you two. But do not touch anything mechanical."

Chet looked around, impressed. "How long have you lived here?" His voice had calmed, the angry edge gone since he'd had time to think and calm down over the hours long walk.

The man still walked stiffly, having been led to this spot, he sat on the ground. Staring into the far distance. Every once in a while he would move a hand or leg, twitch a finger, or his eyes would follow a speck of dust in the air. Inside 3110's skull was a different story, he kept seeing flashes of his own life, from child-hood to where he currently sat. It was a mess, a jigsaw puzzle slowly being put back together agonizingly slowly. He could hear a woman screaming, the sob in her voice drowning out the rest of the noise for a heartbeat.

He wished she would shut up.

3110 slowly looked around, vaguely seeing his surrounds. The scrap, the blurred shapes of people, the sand. The red head groaned, raising a hand to his head, then froze. He pulled his arm back, staring at the gash in it, he looked baffled. With his other hand, he touched the dried blood, 3110 looked a bit like a lost child. He frowned, and finally spoke in a slur,
"Wsh- Wha's goin' on?" He sounded sleepy, his brain still being pieced back together, though perhaps not in the same way it was this morning.

"Past 5 years give or take a few months. The whole yard was a mess when I first arrived, but I think I've straightened it up well enough," Z replied as she led 3110 to one of the cleaner spots of the scrapyard. They had never had to worry about cleanliness before, but they guessed they would have to now. Given that the three strangers now living with her would be more prone to infection and sickness. They looked down at 3110 when they heard his voice, "Ya back with us kid? 'Cause if so then I need to do a med check on ya."

3110 made a small noise, pulling slightly away from the noise of the voice. Though he did reluctantly hold out his arm. He would follow basically any command given to him for a few minutes more, like a belligerent, but obedient child. 3110 squinted his blue eyes, hazily recognizing the metal one. He made a confused noise this time, and then remembered he needed to speak.

"What? Why? I'll.." He trailed off, trying to think of the word. He frowned heavily, wracking his brain. The feeling of 'tip-of-the-tongue' was always infuriating and 3110 hated the fog in his brain. The desire to think again was stifling. He finally settled for a lesser word.
"I'll.. Fix. Myself."

Chet nodded, looking around. "It certainly looks livable, and you've got plenty of building material."
He whipped around when 3110 made a noise, and watched him carefully. The ther 2 were clearly not going to let him just put a bullet in the Government agent's head, so this would take some planning.
Z was going to tend his wounds, it seemed, so that might give hm some time to figure out why 3110 was acting weird.

"You're going to fix a bullet wound and a rushed surgical wound by yourself?" Z asked him incredulously as she took his arm and began to look over the wound. They had tried to make it as neat as possible, but that wasn't possible. And then she grabbed his injured leg and checked over the bullet wound, mainly checking to see if the bullet exited or if she was going to have to go digging for it. As they did that they responded to Chet, "Yeah, the scrap is the best part. Hey, do ya think you can get me a damp rag? Preferrably one without oil stains on it."

3110 watched the person, though he kept getting distracted by the flashes of light off of their metal limbs. His brain was finally coming to order and he frowned again.
"I meant heal. I'll heal." The red-head sighed quietly, though he still didn't protest to being looked over. He stared at her again, head tilted to the side. "I'm not dead." He observed blankly, emotion still not yet connected to the words. Though his neurons were slowly reconnecting, a full reboot was rough on his brain. It.. 3110 grimaced again, shaking his head. He had many scars covering his body, though none quite so aggressive as his new bullet wounds from the past weeks. 3110 flexed his fingers experimentally, pleased with how they responded to his whims again.

Chet didn't say anything, but he crossed his arms and frowned. His entire expression said You really think I'm going to help you fix him?

Z glared at Chet back silently saying You'll get this for me or I'll put a bullet in you. She turned her attention back to 3110 watching as he flexed his fingers. He was lucky the bullet went clean through so they didn't have to go digging. Z snorted a little as she let go of his leg, "You'll heal alright. But I'd rather you not get any infections or die too. So unless you have enhanced healing, stop complaining."

(Hey I'm really sorry (especially to Cinnamon since I know we had plans for our peeps) but I'm gonna have to drop out of this :( I'm sorry)

(that's alright)

Sean had followed the three and went poking around the scrap yard, he picked up a few random bits of metal and stuck them together as he walked. By the time he got back to the group, he had made a toy gun. A very childish thing, but growing up whenever got to be a child. He hummed loudly, a small skip in his step, completely forgetting that he was supposed to keep Chet from killing 3110.

Chet just stood there, unflinching. He was watching 3110 closely, interested that the man seemed to be … Resetting? Rebooting? Restarting? Something like that. Z was crazy if she thought he was going to help, but… Something about the way 3110 was reacting bothered him.
It was triggering a pity he didn't want to have for Danny's killer .

3110 closed his mouth, as told to do. The red head shivered briefly, a chill going all the way down his spine. And finally, with a tiny, click, his brain came back under his own control. Immediately his eyes hardened, sitting up straighter, and looked around, taking stock of his surrounds. Ice-blue eyes washed over the area, then 3110 hesitated. Chewing on his lip, expression unreadable, he just.. Continued to sit. Completely and utterly stumped as to what to do. He was in a scrap-yard, no idea how far away he was from the Compound, they probably had his rifle and his bag of supplies.. Running now was a literal death sentence. No percentages, no ifs ands or buts. 3110 sighed very quietly, then inspected the person who had been treating his wounds. A long heart-beat passed and he looked down at his arm and leg. The gingers face contorted into a grimace and very slowly, and very painfully gritted out a-

"Thank.. You." 3110 continued looking at his hands, unsure of what to do. He could practically feel his life's work slip away from him. But he didn't feel nearly as bad as he expected? Perhaps there was still something wrong with his brain. Yes, that's what it had to be. As 3110 grappled with being treated kindly for the first time in his life, he stared at the dusty ground, at a complete loss for words.

Z had resignedly turned away and grabbed a damp rag herself before going back to wiping up the blood on 3110's arm. They could tell the kid had finally turned back on given how alert he was. She didn't pay that any mind, but noted it for later. Once his wounds were cleaned up she stood up and looked over to see Sean. With bits of metal that sort of resembled a toy gun. They let out a long sigh and figured Sean was still just a kid. She called over to him, "Hey Sean! Ya got any bandages?"

They heard 3110 thank them, something she definitely wasn't expecting. She blinked once and then nodded to the kid, "You're welcome. Surprised ya thanked me giving you're finally all there again."

Sean shrugged, looking in the bag that he had gotten from the refuge. He pulled out some bandages, "Oh look Mark didn't want me to die" He hummed, tossing it to Z and aiming with his toy, pretending to shoot.