He woke up for the first time in a long time, at first Joseph Parry believed he was hallucinating as he took in his surroundings. Utter chaos and carnage, two corpses were near him, each of them a bloody mess. He hadn't killed them, or at least didn't remember if he did. There was too much blood for it to be him anyway, he got sick at the sight of too much and as such turned his head away from the sight as he tried to push himself up to his feet off the cold ground. A shard of glass was embedded in his forearm, though he was lucky as it had missed sticking into an artery. Joe grunted as he pulled it out, then stared at the wound as blood slowly started to leak out of it.

The convicted serial killer rose up slowly and carefully, he could feel a few bruises along his whole frame, but he had somehow avoided any serious injuries such as a bone break. He ran one of his hands over his face and was beyond relived to find his perfect features untouched besides a nose bleed. He pressed his nose against his clothing as he walked, the shard of glass still in his other hand as he approached one of the dead bodies. Joseph knelt down next to one of them, avoiding stepping into the puddle of blood, and also avoiding staring at it too long or else feelings of nausea would have hit him. Joe carefully cut off a thick, long strand of clothing from one of the corpses. They wouldn't need it, they were dead, he wasn't, thankfully.

Joe carefully moved out of the room he was in, wrapping the torn cloth around the wound on his arm as he did. He had taken a quick survey of the room before he had left it and found nothing of use. Shattered pods with nobody inside of them, others still standing but he had no clue how to open them. Besides, the ship was full of savages, people that made him look like the Pope in comparison. It was more likely than not that there was no one worth yanking out of the cryo pods. They'd just turn around and stab him in the back after he helped them. He walked throught a hallway, more dead bodies along the way, he hadn't seen any signs of life since he had awoken, just corpses. 

He paused and leaned against a wall near him, one of the bruises on his leg aching. Then his eyes caught sight of the something on his wrist, his listed crimes. [i]Twelve counts of first degree murder[/i]. That was correct, he remembered every single one, every single detail about each of his beautiful victims. Then he glanced at the listed time and date just below his crimes, he had been in cryo far longer than he had liked to be if he was indeed out of it and not in some other situation. Then his eyes flashed upwards at a booming sound, the extremely distinct sound of a gun being fired a short ways from him. He wasn't the only one alive, that was somewhat reassuring, but then again, anyone who had fired a gun needed to do it, probably drew the attention of anyone else within hearing distance of it.

Joe walked with purpose now, he would need a plan, a person with a gun was not one to be trifled with. He had no weapon himself, and attacking them would be the absolute last option. Perhaps he could try to play his injuries as much worse than they actually were, maybe play to their sense of empathy and hope they would try to help him. He could act very well, it was just a matter of hoping they would buy it. If they were criminals deemed terrible enough to be placed on Apox then he would have needed to use extreme caution. He moved towards where he last heard the gunshot, then he caught sight of figures in the distance, women from the look of it. Even better, he was much better at dealing with them than men. He weakened his walk, then finally went down to the floor in a stumble.

"H-help, anyone please!" He exclaimed loudly, hopefully enough for them to take notice. Then he rested one of his hands on his stomach, faking internal trauma as he hid the smirk on his face, confident as always.