Yabba Dabba Nooo [video] [locked to New Hires but accidentally opted Kokichi in to this one post]

[acroodawakening]

[cw: mention of death arenas, and a little blood.]

[He briefly got an explanation on what the little lock thing means. In a little while it'll make him hopeful because ongoing locked communication is a great thing if you want to rebel. Right now he's bristling with too much annoyance to find anything heartening.]

[He turns the comm on and spends a good half hour with it first, figuring out the interface. It's not as intuitive for him as it might have been for some others, but he gets there. The hover mode is neat. That's a new one. Again, when he is less pissed off, he'll be excited and want to know how it works.]

[Right now he needs to vent somewhere and if the Rig staff can't see the locked posts, only other people trapped here like him will see it. If the other New Hires sell him out and tell the staff he's faking the stupidity thing, they're all doomed from a lack of cooperation anyway.]

Hi.

[The young man on the screen is noticeably small, compared to the bunk he's sitting on. In his world? He's taller than his some of his family, lanky but muscular. In other worlds, where people are absolute giants, he's small and wiry in comparison. Guy is only 5'4" and his entire frame matches that. It isn't like he's a teen or an adult with stunted growth, he's just a tiny fully grown adult, complete with muscles that make the top part of his coveralls fit a little tightly.]

[They didn't give him back his hair tie, so he's using an extra bootlace for that and tying a little ponytail on the top of his head as he speaks. His hair is on the coarse end and otherwise it just sticks up all over.]

I'm Guy. Guy Crood. [Really, it was official, the last name.] I'm sure this Jorgmund is just super, I really am. I am just so happy to be here. Because I got kidnapped from my perfectly nice world with stunning natural wonders, and my family, and a farm with all the food I could eat, to a broken nightmare city where they made us repeatedly fight to the death and brought us back to life, as a way to terrorize and control their slaves with a show of power.

And then! And then I had the stunningly good fortune to get away from that world because of a bunch of magic dust, and then I wound up here! In a rolling tin can. [He knows what cans are. A lot of arena food came in cans.] With lightning in my stomach they can trigger any time to make me do what they want.

Not only did I not magically get sucked back home instead - to my family and my beautiful, wonderful mate, who all probably think I got dragged off and eaten by a predator - I also got pulled away from all my friends who are trying to survive in said gruesome death matches in the other nightmare future place.

[He holds up a finger.]

Actually, excuse me for a second.

[He is visibly shaking with anger over his circumstances and he starts exorcising those feelings by standing up and repeatedly kicking his locker in, denting it.]

[In between kicks, he keeps talking, his voice halfway between annoyed and conversational.]

I'm sure you're all very nice people! I look forward to getting to know you!

[He finishes his little attack by punching the locker so hard he splits his knuckles open. Then he sits down again, just letting them bleed.]

So, first question: Do they make us kill each other here?

Second question: If not, then who do they make us kill, because you don't put electricity in people's stomachs unless you want them to do something horrible.

[He adds brightly.]

...that they probably excuse as some kind of unfortunate, sad necessity because the modern world is just so complicated after you blow it up, how could someone from prehistoric times possibly understand? Look how evolved they are, they've probably got penicillin and everything!

Comments

[acroodawakening]

It should be fine. I've had way worse. If it gets infected, I'll ask for an anti-biotic. [He can say the word but pronounces it oddly, like it wasn't included in his innate understand of English by virtue of being a specialized term]

Plus, no worry about teta-nus, I think I've gotten shots for it twice over.

[He says it without realizing he's guessing a concern, as if the thought occurred to him unprompted due to punching rusty metal.]

The doctors here figured I must have gotten something back where I came from or a lack of immu-nity [weird pronunciation again] would've killed me the second I was exposed to civilization, but weren't sure what exactly what.

[He points to his upper arm.]

So I think they gave me basically everything all over again.

You guys are so lucky in the future. Vaccines are amazing. We'd kill for that in my time. That and penicillillin.

[Okay that time he added an extra syllable, but sue him, these words are weird.]

Just [he pretends to push a plunger of a needle against his arm mimes a sound like a cannon or gun shot rather accurately] and your own immune system kills the germs dead.

[And with one sentence, he reveals that the prehistoric nomad has grasped the science of immunity more firmly than any anti-vaxxer alive.]

[fuckcable]

[ That's actually impressive, when Ric thinks about how many people in the here-and-now of his universe can't cope with basic scientific concepts like why polio is something that needs to stay in the past.

And given the negative effects that not believing in or accepting science like evolution can have on the average mutant... ]

Nah, eventually someone would start telling everyone the vaccines are poison because there's always one that can't separate different from bad.