theclipper_tlv | (no subject)

((All of Taylor's posts this month will be cw: bugs and emetophobia))

The small white room was bad. And Taylor knew she should have kept her head and kept calm, made herself sound reasonable. But almost all the swarm was gone, and so was the link to the twins, and she was disgustingly alone in her own head and the room was so small. And then the Authority had refused to tell her how to reunite with Dad, with Hunter, with Shen ge or anyone at all, and she had said things. Screamed things.

At least the door to her room here is open, can't be closed. But the swarm situation is... worse. The bugs aren't all gone, she can feel some around her, little grounding points of orientation and senses. But there aren't enough, and and the ones she can feel, she can't control. Like limbs half-asleep, wandering around in and out of her painfully contracted range on their own.

Like her first day on the Barge, but so much worse.

She doesn't give herself any time to acclimatize. She has to find people. She staggers out of her room, never quite able to trust where she thinks the floor is or how far away the wall is, but that's not going to stop her.

Week 1

She's a frequent visitor to the Sick Ward at first, for various reasons. The over-the-counter-strength anti-emetics they give her help a little. The stairs up to her Floor 4 cabin don't, though at least the padding means she hasn't broken anything.

Then Norton's request comes through in a sizable explosion of butterflies, and life gets a lot easier for Taylor. She traps a few dozen before they can disperse through the ship, carrying them with her, and plans her day around staying within range of the large majority. During the morning, that's upper decks, sitting in the glassed-in walkways outside the cabins. Later in the day, she can move to the main common room. She sleeps there, sometimes, so long as there's someone familiar present.

((Further weeks to be added))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Taylor eases herself down the wall, to sit against it with her head in her hand. It puts them about at eye level. "Alcohol made from honey. Not very, but some people will trade for it."

Kikimora ponders this, setting a hand against her chin in thought.

"I didn't think we were allowed to bring alcohol here..."

"Probably aren't. But that doesn't mean we can't make it." She shuts her eyes, though not for long. It does not help the vertigo, and her face ticks a shade paler.