[center][color=#eeba30][h1]Kaleb Brody[/h1][/color][/center] [hr] [hr] Blearily Kal's eyes opened, his vision landing on a girl opposite him looking confusedly around herself. Waking up in an unfamiliar place was worrying, and surprising considering he'd been staring at the same four walls for nearly a year. His more recent memories quickly came to him though, and he remembered his escape and the subsequent blankness that followed boarding the rescue ship. He followed the girl's example and took stock of his surroundings, placing his hands on the glass pod and testing if it would open. In short, no. Even a quick search for a handle or switch turned up nothing that would help him. He resolved to simply listen and decide what to do then. It didn't [i]seem[/i] like they were prisoners again, but the glass cage wasn't a promising start. He thought it was rather clever, promising freedom and nipping resistance in the bud with false promises. Then again, it might still be true, so he didn't get angry, suspicious yes, but not angry. Then his calm self control was lost in the chaos of the imminent crash into a [i]planet[/i]. Of all the outcomes crashing planetside was not something he expected. Fear sent his heart racing, his mind conjuring up scenarios resulting in a horrifically painful death. The ship could rip open and he could be sucked out into the sky, with all related outcomes ending in his death; his neck could break from the force, he could splatter on the ground like an egg, or he could even be burnt up in the ship's re-entry trail. Maybe that wouldn't happen, maybe he'd survive the crash only to be trapped under debris and starve to death, or impaled by loose metal or cut by shattered glass and he would bleed to death, or devoured by whatever native scavengers lived on the planet- maybe the planet wasn't habitable! what if suffocated in a toxic atmosphere?! What if-?! His spiraling thoughts, serving only to heighten his panic, were abruptly cut short by a jarring force and the sound of tearing metal when the ship met the ground. He was thrown forward sharply, his face bouncing off the glass as everything faded to black. [hr] [hr] Kal didn't even notice he had been unconscious, his eyes opened slowly, and he felt as if he'd just blinked, closed his eyes for a second, but clearly that wasn't the case. The pod was open, the others were gone, and he had a new point of view, one much closer to the floor. He was slumped against the back, but he rose quickly, the motion forcing him to take note of a major headache. He clutched his forehead and winced, drawing his left hand away to look at it when it felt something sticky and painful. It came away bloody, sticky red contrasting against his fingers. He peered into the glass to see his reflection, taking in the trail of blood running from his forehead down the side of his face to his cheekbone. He cursed, [color=#eeba30]"Fucking fantastic."[/color] He muttered to himself sarcastically, lamenting that he didn't have anything to wipe the blood off with. He didn't even think to use his sleeve, and if he had he likely still wouldn't have done it just to keep his clothes clean. He glanced around outside of his pod, dismissing the thoughts of having been left for dead when he saw people milling about in the green room just beyond this one. A few were poking into the pods and retrieving small packages, following their example he searched his own and recovered a cache of supplies- a useless book, paste-food, and some kind of... tool? He hadn't the slightest idea what it was for, but he would keep it at least. He tore out a nearly blank page and used it to wipe the blood from his forehead the best he could, then shoved the bloody paper into the space he found the package. Out of sight out of mind. He still head a bit of a gash, it was still bleeding a bit, but not enough that he worried. Pack in hand, Kal approached the large group of people in the green room, a slight smile growing on his face. People! He had missed people, just talking to someone, anyone, would be great. Until he stepped into the doorway and the great big fucking hole in the ceiling sent him reeling. He stared up at it, mouth slightly open. Then he was quickly backpedaling- right. Planet. Sky. [color=#eeba30]"Fucking hell,"[/color] he muttered, he had no idea the sky was so scary! He glanced back out at is, a sinking feeling in his chest. Logically he knew it was impossible, but he had the most nonsensical worry that he would fall up into space if he stood out there. The absurdity of the thought broke the seriousness of it however, and with a half-aborted laugh at himself he stepped fully onto the green grass. He was saw taken by the appearance of the planet he forgot how excited he was to see people again. It was just so new, so green, so... [i]alien[/i]. It was beautiful, but so different. The air seemed thicker, cooler, the light was warm and bright, and the grass was... it felt a bit like plastic, but it ticked and felt slightly wet. He'd wandered a bit away from the others, staring at the burnt and disturbed gash that tore through the green where the ship had crashed. He was a dismayed they had ruined the greenery, but he was thankful he was alive to feel that way. Near the ship were shards, shrapnel and torn debris from the ship. He discovered a large piece of metal that was sharp on oneside by accidentally stepping on it. He thought it looked a lot like an axe-head, so he stashed it in his supply pack with the plan to make an axe with it if it came to that. He searched for another piece he reckoned looked like a knife and pocketed it, later he would think of using it as a spear head, but for now he thought a knife was a useful tool. Tension was growing among the group, he could hear it in the voices that he could hear and the way they held themselves, eyes darting nervously and shifting from foot to foot as if getting ready to move if needed. He approached just as nervously, but hid it behind a half amused half concerned sort of grin. He seemed to have just missed a verbal throw down in a play for power by... someone, he wasn't sure who the players were or their role in it- except the girl with the guns, she was clearly an aggressor with designs on running things. He didn't catch all of the conversation, but what he did see were accusations and a clear lack of anything helpful. Then again, he didn't no how to be helpful either, so kept his mouth shut. He looked around for someone by themselves, needing someone to just talk to, both to get another perspective and to just hear another's voice.