ARRIVAL [ It takes longer than others for 9S to begin regaining his senses, like perhaps the drugs kicked in particularly hard on him. But before he does, there's... definitely words being spoken, but it hardly registers to him in the moment the unfamiliarity of the voice, or their clothes, or why his body feels so heavy and tired on a level that—he'd only realize in retrospect—he'd never experienced before. His thoughts are clouded in exhaustion that he doesn't have the mind to fight, and so he leans back and closes his eyes; when the woman and her posse leave, he doesn't even notice.
It's a good time to stir this kid awake, should anyone see the need to.
If not, the sedation does eventually wear off, and though the tiredness doesn't ever fully go away, it fades enough for him to start being able to think. As his eyes crack open and the fuzz in his mind gradually disappears, it finally dawns upon 9S that something has gone horribly wrong.
His eyes go wide when he doesn't know where he is, or what clothes he's wearing, or the dreaded, heavy wrongness coursing through his entire being with the little movements he makes. When he's unable to perform a system scan, or pull up a map of his current location, or... anything, really, his brow furrows in mild panic. ]
... Pod?
[ Voice scratchy from disuse, 9S seeks out the only companion he had left, one who would surely have a better idea of what the hell was going on. Yet there's no sign of the smaller bot, and it's not as if there's anywhere for it to hide. Nonetheless, he tries again, a touch louder: ]
Pod? Where are you?
[ Nothing. That can't be right.
But nothing about this is. Even if he knew exactly where this were, as he slowly manages to push himself back upon his feet—with a slight fumble in his step—9S can't quite put his finger on why, but... he still can't shake the feeling how wrong this body felt.
As he gets used to the feeling of standing on his own two feet again, it's another good time to barge in and drag him out of there. Of course, bumping into him on his way out is an option, too. ]
SAFEHOUSE [ It's been a day. The other most overwhelming day of his life.
When he has a moment or two to really think about it, 9S is almost glad for the quiet reprieve from the city. The safehouse and its surrounding area is a bit closer to what 9S is used to seeing, but even its abandoned buildings are still too... new. Too put together compared to the hollowed out husks of skyscrapers and warehouses that he knew of empty cities, abandoned millennia ago by those who built them. But there's nothing like that here; towers reach the skies in an ever pristine state, and the streets (and parks, as he earlier discovered) are full of so, so many people. Honest to god humans, he would soon find out, a fact he still doesn't know how to handle.
Not that he knows how to handle anything else about this situation, either, and the way he keeps to himself for the rest of the day may make as much evident. Still, it's entirely possible to find him.
At some point during the day, one could wander into the bathroom only to find 9S placed in front of a sink, staring into a mirror as he experimentally presses at his face with his fingers, or slowly opening and closing a hand in front of him. It's like watching an alien who just took over someone's body and doesn't know how to people yet, though that isn't terribly far from the truth.
Then there's later in the day when he's returned to his chosen cot, for lack of anything better to do than to sit and... attempt sorting out his thoughts, to really mull on everything he's seen and heard this day and to have it make sense. And maybe have it be less mind-boggling. 9S sits with his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, though this thought session doesn't seem to be getting very far when he spends most of it fighting off nodding off. ]
WILDCARD [ You know how these roll. Tweak a prompt to your liking, find 9S elsewhere... whatever!! Hit me up if you'd like to work something out first. ]
no subject
[ It takes longer than others for 9S to begin regaining his senses, like perhaps the drugs kicked in particularly hard on him. But before he does, there's... definitely words being spoken, but it hardly registers to him in the moment the unfamiliarity of the voice, or their clothes, or why his body feels so heavy and tired on a level that—he'd only realize in retrospect—he'd never experienced before. His thoughts are clouded in exhaustion that he doesn't have the mind to fight, and so he leans back and closes his eyes; when the woman and her posse leave, he doesn't even notice.
It's a good time to stir this kid awake, should anyone see the need to.
If not, the sedation does eventually wear off, and though the tiredness doesn't ever fully go away, it fades enough for him to start being able to think. As his eyes crack open and the fuzz in his mind gradually disappears, it finally dawns upon 9S that something has gone horribly wrong.
His eyes go wide when he doesn't know where he is, or what clothes he's wearing, or the dreaded, heavy wrongness coursing through his entire being with the little movements he makes. When he's unable to perform a system scan, or pull up a map of his current location, or... anything, really, his brow furrows in mild panic. ]
... Pod?
[ Voice scratchy from disuse, 9S seeks out the only companion he had left, one who would surely have a better idea of what the hell was going on. Yet there's no sign of the smaller bot, and it's not as if there's anywhere for it to hide. Nonetheless, he tries again, a touch louder: ]
Pod? Where are you?
[ Nothing. That can't be right.
But nothing about this is. Even if he knew exactly where this were, as he slowly manages to push himself back upon his feet—with a slight fumble in his step—9S can't quite put his finger on why, but... he still can't shake the feeling how wrong this body felt.
As he gets used to the feeling of standing on his own two feet again, it's another good time to barge in and drag him out of there. Of course, bumping into him on his way out is an option, too. ]
SAFEHOUSE
[ It's been a day. The other most overwhelming day of his life.
When he has a moment or two to really think about it, 9S is almost glad for the quiet reprieve from the city. The safehouse and its surrounding area is a bit closer to what 9S is used to seeing, but even its abandoned buildings are still too... new. Too put together compared to the hollowed out husks of skyscrapers and warehouses that he knew of empty cities, abandoned millennia ago by those who built them. But there's nothing like that here; towers reach the skies in an ever pristine state, and the streets (and parks, as he earlier discovered) are full of so, so many people. Honest to god humans, he would soon find out, a fact he still doesn't know how to handle.
Not that he knows how to handle anything else about this situation, either, and the way he keeps to himself for the rest of the day may make as much evident. Still, it's entirely possible to find him.
At some point during the day, one could wander into the bathroom only to find 9S placed in front of a sink, staring into a mirror as he experimentally presses at his face with his fingers, or slowly opening and closing a hand in front of him. It's like watching an alien who just took over someone's body and doesn't know how to people yet, though that isn't terribly far from the truth.
Then there's later in the day when he's returned to his chosen cot, for lack of anything better to do than to sit and... attempt sorting out his thoughts, to really mull on everything he's seen and heard this day and to have it make sense. And maybe have it be less mind-boggling. 9S sits with his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs, though this thought session doesn't seem to be getting very far when he spends most of it fighting off nodding off. ]
WILDCARD
[ You know how these roll. Tweak a prompt to your liking, find 9S elsewhere... whatever!! Hit me up if you'd like to work something out first. ]