[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/zOFVfLo.png[/img][/center]

He wanted to cry but there were no tears.
He wished to scream but could make no sound.

Paulo told himself to calm down-- to take deep breaths-- but found himself wanting to laugh in grim amusement. There was no way to take that breath-- he felt no heart racing, no shaking in his hands, nothing but his mind full of fear and confusion. Well then. If he couldn't have the physical aspects, despite obviously being able to move, then he had to do the mental calmness.

What was important here? What could be controlled? His hand had moved and he'd received visions! They were divine visions! Had that been the birth of a god, he'd seen? Was that the origin of the Martians? What a beautiful tree that had been-- but what had happened to him? How had he moved his hand? A closer, louder, sound of scraping caught his attention and instinctively he looked toward it-- but how? Such an angle was impossible for him to see without having to move his neck--[color=007236][i]"ᔕᑫᑌIIIᔕᕼY!!"[/i][/color] 

A confused kind of fear surged in Paulo and he sat up sharply-- an alarmed [COLOR=#53F2D7]"GURGLE!!"[/color] erupted from him as if he were a water jug shook. A mutant had come from the darkness and they were running toward him, swinging their chain, clearly ready to do... do something? What was their intent? Just as Paulo began to hold his hands up in some form of surrender, they were PULLED back into the darkness. All at once, Paulo's squishy body seemed to tense, as it firmed somewhat to conform to a humanoid shape. 

A [COLOR=#53F2D7]"Gurgle"[/color] of confusion left Paulo as another mutant stepped forward. While their odd garment was alarming, as was their height, Paulo began to consider the possibility that [i]he[/i] may have been the alarming one instead...

[center][color=007236][i]"ᔕᑫᑌIᔕᕼᗷᗩG Oᖴ GᖇEEᑎ, ᗯᕼY YOᑌ ᗪOᗯᑎ Iᑎ ᔕEᗯEᖇᔕ ᗯITᕼ ᗰᑌTᗩᑎTᔕ? YOᑌ ᗯEᖇE ᔕᒪᗩᐯE?"[/i][/color][/center] 

Paulo couldn't answer but he held his hands up still, as if he were being robbed, and hopefully communicating to them that he meant no harm. He [COLOR=#53F2D7]"BUBL'd"[/color] placatingly. Still, the reaction of the speaker gave Paulo the feeling that something was definitely alarming about his appearance-- the pile of dead rats probably didn't help either. A lone bubble of exasperation popped within his helmet.

[center][color=007236][i]"ᔕᑫᑌIᔕᕼᗷᗩG ᗪOᑎ'T ᗷEᒪOᑎG ᕼEᖇE, ᔕᑫᑌIᔕᕼ TOᑭ ᔕIᗪE. ᗯE GO TO ᑕᒪEᗩᖇᖴᗩᒪᒪᔕ."[/i][/color][/center]

Clearfalls? He'd never heard of that place but something about the tone of this guy, well, it gave Paulo motivation. Time to move would come eventually and clearly it was meant to come now. Within, Paulo recited the words of his own private prayer, as a means of centering himself. 

[i][COLOR=#53F2D7]"All shall be as it must,
all will be as They will..."[/color][/i]

He'd moved before. He could move again. Despair called his name and panic longed for his presence, but Paulo focused instead on where he wanted to be-- on his feet. Had it been so simple last time? Will and need to move happening purely with the thought-- raising a hand not by feeling but by desire. There was no need to feel, to pull or push, and thank the Saints he felt no pain now. No. His pain now was mental and so must his movement be.

[i][COLOR=#53F2D7]
"...I walk my path in faith,"
that I will find the way I am meant to,
and arrive right on time." [/color][/i]

As if he were a puppet controlled by strings, Paulo's body rose all at once. Shoulders high and legs limp, he rose until the tips of his boots only slightly touched the ground, before he sank once again. Standing on the approximation of feet, knees bent slightly with should posture slouched forward, he stood as if he were one of those ancient "cavemen" but, he [i]stood[/i]. Slowly and quietly he walked toward the sewer wall-- his floating skull pressing against the inside of his helmet-- and he tried to be as out of the way of the mutants as possible. As he moved, the hissing of the ground below him caught his attention, and he looked at his hand again. Whatever substance was leaking from his hand-- the tiny drops of it were causing the floor beneath them to boil and bubble. Once he was as out of the way as he could possibly be, Paulo took in the sight of the mutants-- most importantly their chains.

And then, with a rotation of his skull floating within the tank, he stared at his hand.

Acting upon a sudden idea, he slowly moved his other hand, to open up the small console controller, attached to the arm opposite, then hit a button. Though most of the suit's systems were probably a mess- especially since static was still screeching into his helmet-- Paulo hit the button for the info-graphic helmet display. Immediately, light illuminated across his helmet, forming the "universal" symbol for "help", and Paulo then pointed to mutants, then back to himself. Then came his gurgled question, [COLOR=#53F2D7]"卄乇ㄥ卩?"[/color]

Paulo bubbled like a hot tub in mild alarm at having... spoke? Did that noise qualify as speaking?
Then again he gurgled more words-- with increasing clarity-- [COLOR=#53F2D7]"ʜᴇʟᴘ... Me. What. Is *GLUG* Clearfalls?"[/color] He was down here for a reason, wasn't he? Seeing these mutants for a reason-- these Cartelli slaves-- so maybe he'd better act on it while he had the chance, even if it wasn't the most pressing matter at hand.

[sup][@DeadDrop]
Edit: Cause i'm bad at colors.[/sup]