Billy Cranston (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
morphitudinous) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
boxofhorrors2011-07-27 03:25 pm
morphitudinous) wrote in boxofhorrors2011-07-27 03:25 pm
Entry tags:
The Sticky Situation
The situation was an entirely uncontrollable and all-encompassing mess.
Not only was the location itself a mess, but so were the individuals swept up in such messiness. Not a single dry, clean, or intact object was in sight. A bright ruby red sludge coated the entire area, so thick that it obscured whatever this location used to be. For now, it was most definitely similar to the inside of an expired raspberry gelatin dessert.
As these stories often go, the beings coming to consciousness in the midst of all this mess would not remember exactly how they had traveled from the Point A of their own lives to the Point B of this disaster zone, but they would be surrounded by slight reminders. Everyone had a mishmash of items that had been on or near their person at the time---had someone been repairing a car?
A tire ringed the poor woman's head, caught unaware by the sudden digestion and regurgitation as much as anyone else.
Just about anything they might need or want could be found in this mess: toys, games, tools, clothes, toiletries, a bathroom...notably, everything except an escape route. For you see, to say that the characters were in raspberry gelatin was altogether inaccurate. Whatever stickiness existed in their trap was not something as light and airy as gelatin, no. It was heavier. Thicker. Longing for a union with some creamy peanut butter.
Reality dawned. There was a name for this type of enclosed, sticky space. It was, rather uncreatively named, a giant jamjar. Do have fun!
Not only was the location itself a mess, but so were the individuals swept up in such messiness. Not a single dry, clean, or intact object was in sight. A bright ruby red sludge coated the entire area, so thick that it obscured whatever this location used to be. For now, it was most definitely similar to the inside of an expired raspberry gelatin dessert.
As these stories often go, the beings coming to consciousness in the midst of all this mess would not remember exactly how they had traveled from the Point A of their own lives to the Point B of this disaster zone, but they would be surrounded by slight reminders. Everyone had a mishmash of items that had been on or near their person at the time---had someone been repairing a car?
A tire ringed the poor woman's head, caught unaware by the sudden digestion and regurgitation as much as anyone else.
Just about anything they might need or want could be found in this mess: toys, games, tools, clothes, toiletries, a bathroom...notably, everything except an escape route. For you see, to say that the characters were in raspberry gelatin was altogether inaccurate. Whatever stickiness existed in their trap was not something as light and airy as gelatin, no. It was heavier. Thicker. Longing for a union with some creamy peanut butter.
Reality dawned. There was a name for this type of enclosed, sticky space. It was, rather uncreatively named, a giant jamjar. Do have fun!
no subject
His last project before the apparent teleportation had been an attempt to repair a new defensive device. He'd designed its outer metal casing to withstand several of the most common dissolving substances, it was that important, but he hadn't designed it with the possibility of an invasion of raspberry jam.
Naturally, all those circuits and wires were now completely useless. He made a soft huffing noise, eventually stabilizing himself on a sort of flat table that was sticking out of the jam. It was difficult with all the sliding around, but he was soon making a seemingly futile attempt to clean his glasses. Without a clean surface to clean them on, it was going to be a nightmare.
"Who makes jamjars this big? Am I captured by giants, waiting to be spread on their toast?" He couldn't see if anyone was around to answer, so he simply huffed and kept cleaning. Once he could see, he could work out what to do.
no subject
Why--
One minute Zouichi had been stuck on Galilee, fighting a clone army, and then he was suddenly and inexplicably immersed in jam. Luckily, his firearms were proofed against liquidy sorts of things, so he was merely confused and annoyed. He was not, however, alone.
"Billy? What are you doing here?"
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"This isn't Galilee, is it? I don't remember hearing that it was a planet of jam."
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Granted, it's a little less scary than the battlefield with superpowered clones that he was just on, but this certainly isn't ideal. He looks up at Zou for some sort of guidance.
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He blinked as Howard suddenly appeared. "Maybe I can use my firearms to burn off some of this jam. Although I suppose more jam would simply ooze in to fill the empty space."
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He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling out a more stable position on the almost-table debris. "I assume you were both randomly telported, as I was. I could try to scan for a trace of the cause, but my devices would need some serious cleaning. Do yours work?"
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He shrugged a little. "I didn't bring any scanning probes with me to the planet. If you had, say, a working wireless connection and something to parse the information, I could hook you up to my data feed. As it is..."
He scooped up a glop of the red substance, examining it, then tossing it back into the mass. "Definitely fruit preserves."
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He stays quiet while the other two get all geeky and techy on him.
no subject
Billy nodded tiredly, picking at what was left of his own electronics. A dive down into the jam revealed something that could definitely be useful if he could clean it, so it was set aside. He hoped to find a closed container in this mess to store it in, maybe one that held a clean cloth.
It was about then that he noticed Howard's meal. "Are you sure you want to eat that? It could be contaminated with whatever else is in here."
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Then something grabbed his attention. Movement from within the jam, caught out of the corner of his eye.
What in the--?
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"Is something wrong?"
no subject