[ The panic that settles in him when he vaguely realizes what's happening, is that he's going to panic - really panic. Stress and anxiety are only triggers that speed up an inevitable process, and even if he doesn't want tree monstrosities to bring the building down and kill everyone, he plain just doesn't want people to see it happen. They can't. What's going to happen to him if they do?
Once he can move and tumble down from his seat, he yells and pleas everyone to get away and let him leave. The more they ask him to calm down, the harder he tries, until he's being restrained and injected with a something-something that dulls his brain and sinks him into a peaceful darkness.
Your body has a sense of time passing while you're asleep. It doesn't always get it right - sometimes you wake up feeling like you're late, sometimes you're sure it can't have been a full night's sleep because you barely just closed your eyes. Not this time. He knows it's been over a day when he comes back to. Disbelief is the nicer word for denial: this can't be happening, it's too out of this world (his world), nothing is familiar, he can't even go outside - there's very much a sense of everything being over. The end of the world, or close enough, which means he has everywhere and nowhere to go. This would have been ideal, in a way, being alone so no one would suffer from what he can't help destroying.
But he couldn't. For such an expert at isolation, he wouldn't stand to be alone.
He makes an effort, because he has no choice. Curiosity is a fine replacement for fear (and the number one reason people die in horror movies). Quiet, observant, and unfortunately not very bright, he has no idea how he's going to help. He can't even help himself.
The approach from Jay, as the mission is announced, is unexpected, because no one's taken to getting to know each other yet. The mood is somber in general. A bunch of people brought together for post-apocalyptic reasons aren't inclined to throw welcome parties. ]
... I don't know. I just got here. [ Well. He's not the only one, so: ] They probably want people with more training.
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Once he can move and tumble down from his seat, he yells and pleas everyone to get away and let him leave. The more they ask him to calm down, the harder he tries, until he's being restrained and injected with a something-something that dulls his brain and sinks him into a peaceful darkness.
Your body has a sense of time passing while you're asleep. It doesn't always get it right - sometimes you wake up feeling like you're late, sometimes you're sure it can't have been a full night's sleep because you barely just closed your eyes. Not this time. He knows it's been over a day when he comes back to. Disbelief is the nicer word for denial: this can't be happening, it's too out of this world (his world), nothing is familiar, he can't even go outside - there's very much a sense of everything being over. The end of the world, or close enough, which means he has everywhere and nowhere to go. This would have been ideal, in a way, being alone so no one would suffer from what he can't help destroying.
But he couldn't. For such an expert at isolation, he wouldn't stand to be alone.
He makes an effort, because he has no choice. Curiosity is a fine replacement for fear (and the number one reason people die in horror movies). Quiet, observant, and unfortunately not very bright, he has no idea how he's going to help. He can't even help himself.
The approach from Jay, as the mission is announced, is unexpected, because no one's taken to getting to know each other yet. The mood is somber in general. A bunch of people brought together for post-apocalyptic reasons aren't inclined to throw welcome parties. ]
... I don't know. I just got here. [ Well. He's not the only one, so: ] They probably want people with more training.