(no subject)

[hippocampectomy]

Character: Walter Bishop (season 1&2, OU)
Fandom: Fringe
Player Name: Mandie

[Typically, people are quite confused upon being kidnapped to a strange world. They think about how they got there, how to get home, how they'll live from then on... Not Walter, though.

Walter just thinks he's high.

It makes sense, really. There's no technology he knows of that would allow for an underwater city like this, not in his world or on the other side. He's also quite certain that there's no species of coral known to glow quite like that, or provide a nice tingling sensation when touched. He did just watch that strange "Spongebob" cartoon again, so his mind has probably provided him with a vision like this one.]

Excuse me! Do you know where to find meowing snails?

[No harm in interacting with his hallucination. He might as well enjoy it before Astrid shows up like a buzzkill.]

Comments

[ex_soulsteal574]

[In a way, Silver is naive in that there are a great many things he has yet to learn and understand. How to live of his own accord, how to use a stove, how to interact on a different level – his being here further exploits that naivety, for nothing could have prepared him for being moved to another world.

It makes sense, though, he supposes. That he moved to another world.

What doesn't make sense is this question . . . ]

. . . Meowing snails?

[hippocampectomy]

Yes, precisely. A giant pineapple will also do.

[Strange. If this is all occurring in his mind, the "people" he's talking to should know what he's talking about. Maybe he's thought up someone clueless so he can walk himself through the vision?]

[ex_soulsteal574]

[Pineapple. He knows that one. Not necessarily giant.]

I don't know if they sell those here. . . . If they do, they'd probably give it away if you asked.

[hippocampectomy]

[GIVE it away? Well that doesn't fit with the cartoon he was watching. Maybe he's imagining an underwater utopia, something like Atlantis.]

...where is "here", exactly?

[ex_soulsteal574]

[This man is . . . new? Apparently, asking about meowing snails is a priority. Why?]

Vatheon. An underwater city within a barrier erected by the coral, the Lamufao. Above us lies an island.

[hippocampectomy]

[He's never heard of a Vatheon, he thinks. More importantly, Silver is saying something odd.

Yes, odder than meowing snails.]

That doesn't make any sense. What we call coral is simply the exoskeleton of many tiny little animals. It already has a habitat, why would it create this city?

[ex_soulsteal574]

The Lamufao feeds on our energy; everything it does is powered by us. It's different from what you know.

[hippocampectomy]

It feeds on us?

[Walter pauses and looks around carefully.]

This environment does not suit a sea creature. It's built for humans. Why would it build this place for humans when it could draw from sea creatures and keep itself comfortable?

[ex_soulsteal574]

[Silver scowls. He doesn't know that.]

Originally, it coexisted with fish. Everything, and our marks . . . Everything is artificial.

[immoralflame]

[The look Walter's given at a question like that is little more than a series of lines: all horizontal and none particularly amused. The Hell kind of question is that?

Some speck in the back of Sol's mind knows the reference, though. Or thinks it does. Associated with a lot of annoyance and probably too many beers in college or something. Not important, either way.

Back to the issue of "what the actual fuck".]

No.

[hippocampectomy]

[Well that's just disappointing. Why doesn't Sol know these things? He's just a figment of Walter's imagination anyway. Maybe he's a figment from the parts Walter is missing.]

Oh, come now, they should be as common as cats around here!

[immoralflame]

Yer in a dimensional pocket.

[Dry, flat, and still not amused, Walter. But he's a figment of no one's imagination, thanks.]

Th'fuck knows what's meant t'be "common".

[Outside confused interlopers and really bad ideas for science fair projects.]

[hippocampectomy]

[His playful demeanor fades at hearing something like that. It couldn't be...]

When you say pocket, you do mean that this place is closed off, don't you?

[Heaven help them if this is just an open doorway.]

[immoralflame]

Ain't been able t'find a way out, yet, either.

[And there's no Heaven to help them, here.]

[hippocampectomy]

I would hope not. If you could simply find a way out instead of creating one, that would not bode well for the stability of our universes.

[No, that would not bode well at all. Walter isn't too terribly concerned about managing to create a way back to his own dimension, though. He's crossed over before, he can... hopefully manage it one more time.]

[immoralflame]

D'pends on th'way things're connected.

[Sounds like the guy has at least half a brain, so this shouldn't be entirely lost on him.]

If'ere's a two-way connection 'at functions correctly, 'en there'd be a way t' "find". 'F it's somethin' y'gotta force, 'en it'd be harder t'create a new gateway every time; inefficient. People come'n go often enough for th'door concept t'sound likely 'nough, but ain't been able to find where it's located. Place doesn't run on th'twelve steps th'way my world does, s'I can't jus' feel 'round for it.

[He fishes through his back pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, taps one out and puts it between his lips as he tucks the pack away.]

Collapse from stability issues don't seem t'be much'f an issue, though.

[He lights the cigarette with a half-assed spell, exhaling smoke.]

S'like grabbin' a rat with th' entry t'th' terrarium up close t'th' top an' they ain't got th'bars t'scale up t'it.

[hippocampectomy]

If this place is as you describe, then the gateway you are mentioning is likely under the control of someone. There's simply no way this place could be so stable if it were open for people to stream through at all times. If there is a gateway to be found, then you will have to find the gatekeeper.

[He seems an entirely different creature from the man asking about a meowing snail now.]

If not, then I suppose one will simply have to be made. Perhaps I should make a window first. If this is another dimension and not a hallucination, then I don't believe it's the alternate reality I am adjusted to. Creating something to observe with is far safer than simply making a door right away. Ah, I will need...

[Walter starts mumbling a list of equipment, pacing around in a circle while he's thinking.]

[copesetic]

Is that some kind of euphemism?

[Don't mind Albert, he's just arrived too and since he doesn't have the drug trip excuse to fall back on he's gotten pretty irritated. That happens when you pass out and wake up somewhere unfamiliar.

So basically, Albert does not have time for these shenanigans, especially when he needs to find a cybernetics specialist and soon. He got pretty messed up in that last battle and while he's still functional, even still able to hide his metal parts in his long sleeved uniform, that's not going to continue to be the case much longer.]

[hippocampectomy]

Well, I suppose it certainly could be. Almost anything sounds a little dirty if you want it to.

[What would a meowing snail even be a euphemism for? Probably an erect penis, everything seems to come back to that eventually.

Excuse Walter, he finds that image amusing.]

[copesetic]

Right. Uh. Sure.

[He's really not sure what to make of this guy, though he seems pretty calm. Maybe he's from here? Granted Albert's experience with aliens has never run him across anything quite so human-looking but this could always be some weird city under the sea on Earth. He's seen weirder things.]

I don't suppose you're from around here, are you?

[His tone is fairly glib; that lab coat makes him nervous, and not in the cower and hide kind of way. More in the shoot first and ask questions later kind of way. Not that he'd do that without being threatened directly of course.]

[hippocampectomy]

That depends entirely upon where "here" is. I might be from here.

[Is he talking to an actual person? Are they still in Harvard? Oh dear, he was almost certain this was all occurring in his mind.]

[copesetic]

[Well. This conversation is certainly going nowhere fast. Albert whips out a pamphlet.]

According to this its a place called "Vatheon" though I'm guessing if you didn't know that then you're not a local.

[He sighs, tucking the little brochure back into a pocket.]

Looks like a kidnapping operation or something to me.

[He should probably be more worried about causing panic by saying that so bluntly but at the moment he doesn't really care. Kidnapping is one of those Things with a capital T that gets his hackles up.]

[hippocampectomy]

No, I'm from Boston...

[He trails off. Kidnapping? Well, he is at risk for it, he knows that much. Damn, this doesn't feel right at all. There's no pleasant buzz, no floating feeling, just a strange man and an underwater city. He doesn't want to think of this as reality, but he might be in danger if he doesn't.]

I've never heard of a Vatheon.

[copesetic]

Boston. Okay, good, not an alien.

[Though American is almost worse, but hey.]

I've never heard of it either but it could be some kind of secret underwater project. Stranger things have happened.

[Most of them to him and his friends. He sighs and runs a hand back through his hair, ruffling it in frustration and muttering.]

Could it be Black Ghost?

[hippocampectomy]

You speak of me being an alien as if it's a likely possibility.

[Color him interested! Who are you, white-haired man?]