[Even with the hull down below, Lexa knows better than to try her luck. Wound-wise, she's doing better (or better along the lines of being a seasoned warrior who's fought countless numbers of people in her comparably short life), but the main goal is waiting for the vertigo to improve—or disappear entirely. She sits cross legged as she looks down into the sinkhole, expression calm. Sitting up is uncomfortable, but recalling Clarke's words, she knows that it's better to keep her heart straight up as much as possible.
Needless to say, while Lexa would love to dive in, she knows better than to do that. Besides, there's someone here who would be worried about her, and even before her death, Lexa had been too quick to accept her mortality.
When someone passes, injured or not, she glances up toward them.] Be cautious about what lies ahead. We don't know what or who might be waiting in there.
[If the queen was hiding it, what if there's a king, so to speak?]
repetition is like practice making something perfect
[Ah, weapons.
To be fair, Lexa's first goal isn't the weapons, but to take the risk of gathering moisture in cupped hands so that she can tilt it into her mouth. Still weak from the wound and from sitting in the hot sun all day, she craves something to drive off the immediate effects of dehydration. Her people may not be the most scientifically capable people, but they have always known the importance of fresh water.
After that: each trip in and out of the hull at first is the same. She goes to the weapon room, heads back out when her power is lessening, and then back.
It's apparent that she isn't only sorting weapons for herself. No one woman needs all of that. But they are set in various piles to represent their state. The most rusted ones are in one place, and the least rusted ones are in another. But this is a lot of work, so anyone who wishes to help is more than welcome to.]
storage! we need storage!
Whatever we find here, we must find a way to bring it with us. [The words come after some time in the hull. She's taken trips in and out and has taken her necessary breaks to eat left over trilobite meat and some of the water she's managed to gather. It's tireless and tedious, but she knows that it's necessary.]
Whatever this hull was for, there must have been a means of taking supplies off in small amounts. Seek out anything that may help us so we can continue to explore this land safely.
[Come to think of it, they might want to designate someone as the "water bearer," so to speak.]
wildcard
[Anything else, related to Lexa's initial actions here or otherwise. I will also match prose or brackets depending on what you prefer.
For the exploration prompts, we can do a group of two or three! I'm open to anything and everything.]
ota
[Even with the hull down below, Lexa knows better than to try her luck. Wound-wise, she's doing better (or better along the lines of being a seasoned warrior who's fought countless numbers of people in her comparably short life), but the main goal is waiting for the vertigo to improve—or disappear entirely. She sits cross legged as she looks down into the sinkhole, expression calm. Sitting up is uncomfortable, but recalling Clarke's words, she knows that it's better to keep her heart straight up as much as possible.
Needless to say, while Lexa would love to dive in, she knows better than to do that. Besides, there's someone here who would be worried about her, and even before her death, Lexa had been too quick to accept her mortality.
When someone passes, injured or not, she glances up toward them.] Be cautious about what lies ahead. We don't know what or who might be waiting in there.
[If the queen was hiding it, what if there's a king, so to speak?]
repetition is like practice making something perfect
[Ah, weapons.
To be fair, Lexa's first goal isn't the weapons, but to take the risk of gathering moisture in cupped hands so that she can tilt it into her mouth. Still weak from the wound and from sitting in the hot sun all day, she craves something to drive off the immediate effects of dehydration. Her people may not be the most scientifically capable people, but they have always known the importance of fresh water.
After that: each trip in and out of the hull at first is the same. She goes to the weapon room, heads back out when her power is lessening, and then back.
It's apparent that she isn't only sorting weapons for herself. No one woman needs all of that. But they are set in various piles to represent their state. The most rusted ones are in one place, and the least rusted ones are in another. But this is a lot of work, so anyone who wishes to help is more than welcome to.]
storage! we need storage!
Whatever we find here, we must find a way to bring it with us. [The words come after some time in the hull. She's taken trips in and out and has taken her necessary breaks to eat left over trilobite meat and some of the water she's managed to gather. It's tireless and tedious, but she knows that it's necessary.]
Whatever this hull was for, there must have been a means of taking supplies off in small amounts. Seek out anything that may help us so we can continue to explore this land safely.
[Come to think of it, they might want to designate someone as the "water bearer," so to speak.]
wildcard
[Anything else, related to Lexa's initial actions here or otherwise. I will also match prose or brackets depending on what you prefer.
For the exploration prompts, we can do a group of two or three! I'm open to anything and everything.]