Drabble/idea thing?
The days of the constant that the survivors had taken to meet and organize after the florid postern had been built were far too many to count. Far too many to remember, considering the world had reset on numerous occasions.
Wilson had taken mental note of little things he observed from survivors. behaviors, choices, words even. The hardest one to understand was the mime, of course. But something odd had been noticed by the scientist. This mime, Wes as anyone called him, could make balloons float with his breath. Usually it’s require helium or something lighter than air for them to float. It was peculiar.
Another things to note:
Wes was always struggling to survive. It seems near impossible that he should survive without the help of others some day. Not only that, but it seemed like the mime was struggling to breathe some days. Perhaps it was linked? “Wilson, stop staring into space!” Willow yelled in his face.
Wilson winced. “Don’t yell at me!” He protested.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for five minutes! Wes is acting up again!” Wilson didn’t even hesitate to head out and investigate. Wes was in his tent, so Wilson went over and peaked in. Indeed, the mime appeared to be struggling to get any air, despite this place not being smoky or polluted. Some of the nicest air was here in the constant…
“Wes…” Wilson said, walking in. “What’s wrong? why are you–” he quickly stopped himself, remembering Wes didn’t speak. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.” Off he went. In a moment, he returned with several pages of papyrus and a feather pencil.
“Do you know what’s wrong?”
Scribble scribble scribble…
French. That’s an issue.
“I don’t speak French, Wes.”
Wes quickly corrected himself and started writing in English.
“I don’t breathe oxygen. I breathe helium and there’s not much of it here.”
This both intrigued and baffled Wilson. How could someone live off helium? A normal person would die without oxygen yet– Wilson snapped himself out of his own thought process. He had more important things to deal with.
Wilson set to work on trying to make something that Wes could use to breathe more efficiently, and after several weeks of trying and running into failure after failure, he finally had something. It looked like a re-breather, almost, but Wes could breathe now. He actually seemed to grow a tad stronger aswell when it came to fighting. The mime’s appetite was still a mystery, but a mystery for another day.
