#alia.starter

There was a storm cloud over Connor’s head to rival those outside the infirmary as the storm raged on. He’d traded his soaking clothes for a fresh pair of scrubs from his locker, but he was battered and bruised and in pain, his left arm hanging uselessly in a sling as he sat with his shoulders hunched on an exam table. There was a hypocrisy in his refusal to take a strong painkiller and go to sleep, but Connor didn’t care. He didn’t want to sleep -- not when the storm was still raging overhead, undoubtedly causing even more damage than it had done to him and his home. If Connor couldn’t be out there helping people, he wanted to be available here, never mind the strict orders he’d been given to rest. Rest was never something Connor had done well. He needed to stay busy, needed to have a purpose so he would not be left alone with his thoughts. His ruined home. His busted shoulder. The fact that it was his brother who had saved him, and now Connor owed James a debt.

“It may not look like much more than weeds but I’ve got a lot of specimens in this garden- though I started it myself and it doesn’t technically belong to the lab, it’s still important to my research.” Luc knelt down to fix the tiny, d-i-y fence that he’d built around the miniature garden outside of his building. “There’s nothing worth stealing, it’s all inedible and toxic, just be careful not to step on it or it could damage the samples and throw my research off for a week,”

Jared was standing off to the side of the clearing near the front gate as he started gearing up for his mission outside the gate. He finished checking his gear before slipping on his vest as he caught the crunch of loose dirt and gravel getting closer to him. “If your here to ask about the picture I took of me and the Rex, its hanging on the wall of the Ranger Station.” He said turning to see who was walking up on him. 

     The jungle has a way of breathing, changing its SHAPE while your back was turned, but Becks was starting to know it like the back of his hand, flashes of green and yellow repeating over and over in a loop when his eyes were closed ; he longed to be outside even when he was behind the SAFETY of Outpost 7′s gates, yearning for the feeling of freedom and anxiety that came when his boots trampled over soft moss. A little over a year since his exile REBIRTH, the jungle felt more like a home than Alia Terra ever did, but even your home can be treacherous. The sound of branches suddenly rustling behind him, Becks gave a rather languid look over his shoulder,  ❝  You’re a little far from home, ain’t ya?  ❞

@notporcelain