bakerstreet | The Aliens Meme

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[warning] violence

The Aliens Meme

THE ALIENS MEME

People always wondered if there was intelligent life out there beyond our solar system. Well lucky us, there is. But take away the lucky part and we're left with an alien race that wants nothing more than to use our bodies as incubators for their babies. If not out right kill us. They're intelligent and adapt to situations to overcome what is thrown at them and will do everything to find you. Once they do, who can say what will happen.

Either way. You're going to die.

Unless you can escape.

HERE'S WHAT TO DO:

Post with your character (name and fandom in the subject).
Other people reply and they become your 'team' the survivors trying to escape.
Work together, or don't, to outsmart the Xenomorphs (the aliens).
You will also run into these little suckers, and if they catch you they'll cling to your face, implanting an alien baby inside you. Have fun with that. They're hard to get off as their tail wraps around your throat, usually to knock the victim out to make them easier to handle.
Get to an escape pod on the ship you're on, or blow up the ship. Maybe you all die. Either way, have fun!
WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEATHS AND CREEPY ALIENS!

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Bruce adjusts the glasses on his nose, peers, does some mental math, estimating...

"Yeah," he says. "I think I can --hope nothing's too sharp on the walls, though." All they need is somebody cutting themselves on a hand hold, losing their grip and falling to their doom.

Tony, on the edge, slips his hands into his pockets and crouches down by the gap. It's just about six feet across, just a little beyond his ability to jump actually, but with the deck plating being filled with wire and light weight rebar, there's ample amount of things to grab onto.

Until the big drop between floors. Drop and swing just isn't going to work but the ladders are either too far behind them or ahead.

"I'm going into space ship design when we get home," he grouses and sits, lags dangling over. "We'll have to leap frog it, swing into the deck below." Tony's stopped smiling. He's about to stop joking all together. "I won't drop you. Let me go first."

Bruce crouches down; he's soaking that damn borrowed jumpsuit with new sweat, he's tired and he's drained from letting the big guy use another deck as a romper room and... well. Now he's going to have to leapfrog.

"...right. Okay."

He trusts Tony. Tony trusts him, insanely enough, so he rewards that by investing his own in the other man, and follow the other man's instruction.

Going first is risky when the desk below them is having power issues. It's enough to give anyone a seizure with the way the lights strobe off and on again. He has a good deal of upper body strength and as he grunts and holds onto metal recently eaten through by acid, Tony winks at Bruce and lowers himself until he's hanging.

He'd give anything right now for another few inches in hieght. Damn his father.

Swinging out his legs, Tony swallows and makes a spectacular jump-- That knocks the wind right out of him as he lands, writhing, on the floor below.

"Unnnn...."

Having a seizure is another sure way to bring the big guy out. Bruce turns his head while Tony makes his decent into the bowls of the ship, swallowing once as he smells the burnt-metal aroma.

Not great.

Less great when Tony drops and doesn't move. More stress he dosen't need.

"Stark? Tony?" he scrambles to the edge, and then says fuck it, drops himself down, trying to get there under his own power, desperate now. "Tony!"

Caring about people makes you stupid.

"Hang on, I'm dying," Tony groans and rolls over onto his side. He takes some time breathing, just breathing and oh, that feels better. "Still dying. Banner, you're a doctor, do I need to keep my ribs inside my body to keep living?"

He chuckles and the pain shoots back up under his arm, but he'll be all right. See? He's already getting up.

Bruce's flight is the opposite of graceful. There are flailing limbs, there is a painful lannding that goes south as he twists and lands on his knee and that? That got a shout of pain and, out of Bruce, a wounded sound too much like an animal and not enough like a man.

The big guy doesn't like pain. But he gulps down breathes, and makes himself laugh.

"What a pair we are," he says. "No suit, green guy... and we're laying here sniffling. Man. We suck at this."

Dragging himself over to Bruce, Tony's face is illuminated in alternating patterns of light and dark as he sets one wide hand down on the center of the other man's chest. "What part of leap frog don't you get," he murmurs, before pulling the glasses off of the ground and setting them neatly on Bruce's nose. He's even careful with the ears, sure of their fit. "I was going to catch you."

A flash of white signifies his teeth coming into view before he shits to settle on the floor by his legs.

"What did you land on besides nearly me?"

"You weren't--" moving, you were hurt, he had to get here, shut up-- Bruce hisses in a breath, and shifts. "Just my knee. Be fine in a few minutes. Green's not all I get."

The healing factor he has doesn't require the green guy. Sure, it runs faster when he's in charge, and he shrugs off bullets and thirty-thousand foot drops, spits out bullets, but-- Banner reaps the rewards too.

Bruce rolls on his back, grunts once, sits up-- stretches his legs out. Okay, we're moving again.

His palm is wet and his hands are filthy, but he puts both of his on Bruce's knee, pressing perhaps a little cruelly. It's better to find out the extent of the damage early on. Neither of them are exactly spring chickens any more.

It's difficult to see Banner's face, but he should feel the wince. If there is one. He just really doesn't want to have to leave him here. Bruce will be fine. Of course he'll be fine. But he's worried just the same.

"Don't," comes out harsher, and the shove back he moves to deliver -- well, Bruce level strength, so Tony should count himself lucky. The Hulk doesn't like sniveling weakness, and it makes Bruce mad and--

Well, it's got him moving.

"I'm fine," he grumbles, and rolls to get onto his feet, sucking in breathes. "I'm fine," he repeats, calmer. "Really. That guy in the X-Men, with the claws, he's got nothing on me now."

So he's a little stiff in his movements. He'll deal.

Huh.

Tony's eyes follow Banner and he makes a mental note to speak with him. Or at least just watch him. Later. His eyebrows furrow but he uses the wall to get himself up to his feet. Ah, damn. It hurts. He's not going to be able to do another aerial leap. So...

"I need the pants. And your shirt." He'll make a rope. It'll be a sucky rope but what else can they do? Drop down and hope Hulk will catch him?

Bruce warrants watching. He unloads the items they had -- sticky and still damp -- and offers them in hand. He lapses into silence, trying to find focus, eyes narrowing in the dim light.

He might be a little bit tense, but he allows Tony to take the lead, his fingers twitching with the urge to move, to do something.

Shit. Banner's losing it. Tony stops with the jokes and just finishes his climb. It's easier with the makeshift rope and he has Bruce undo it before starting down himself. Tony's arms are up and he gently guides Bruce's legs and then his feet down with him. It works so much better this way, and that warrants a bit of an eyebrow waggle.

"Two more floors," he promises. He has no idea that engineering happens to be a breeding ground right now, though.

"Flirt with me when we're off this death trap," Bruce said, exasperated more than anything else. He dangled and went through the mess of getting down layer by later until they came down into a floor that was sticky and damp.

That? Was not good. That was, in fact, disgusting. Bruce had no shoes, after all.

"Gross. Somewhere between melted plastic, snot, and vomit." Between his toes, no less.

Tony has shoes on and he's about ready to vomit. He doesn't need to hear about what it feels like on bare skin. Tony takes a deep breath but the air is musty and the rough, exoskeletal quality of the wall decoration is leaving a very bad taste in his mouth.

They're missing five crewmen. Something tells him that those five aren't just holed up in other parts of the ship waiting for the nightmare to end. He hushes Banner and moves forward, nearly slipping on the mushy ground.

He can hear something. Wriggling. Breathing. They can't afford another few hours for the Hulk to allow Banner to reemerge. They really can't. Tony already knows he's going to need a hand in the repairs. The couplings overheard suggest a dual valve system.

Bruce wasn't sure, with the condition of the walls of they wanted to keep close to limit the directions they could be attacked from, or maybe they'd be snuggling up to a death trap.

"I would give my left testicle for a flamethrower right now," Bruce breathed, not liking how the air tasted ok his tongue. "Think it's one of the breeder drones?"

He can hear it. Out there. Waiting.

"I'd give your left testicle for a decent flashlight," Tony muttered, crouching a bit and guarding Bruce as if-- Oh, who's he kidding anyway? Bruce matters. Tony's got no reason to pretend otherwise.

The slow crab walking is at least moving them in the right direction. Every now and then, the LED track lighting flickers on at full strength and Tony can reposition them in the hallway as they head towards the far wall.

The conduit for the heating system is right over there, likely blocked by... This.

A shadow moves ahead of them and Tony pulls them both back against the wall, trying to cover Banner with one arm.

This is thoroughly disgusting. This is Bruce's feet making sticky, wet sounds as they walk over the gummy foor. This... is not his idea of a great time.

He knew this was a bad idea. Knew it to his irradiated bones.

He didn't know, however, what to make at the fact he was now pressed against the wall, Tony's arm against his chest. He looked down the arm, and then up at Tony, before he snorted softly. Go ahead and try and protect the monster from the monster. It's almost comedic.

"Not much further," and for that he was grateful."

The engineering booth was cramped. As expected, this was only one set of controls. The other happened to be across the hall. At least it was visible from this one. They would have to work together.

Bruce's background, while not in engineering, still makes this small lesson a little easier for him to manage. And, as luck would have it, the system isn't that complex to operate.

"The flux door valve is here. Ten degrees at a time. That will jump start the coolant system again."

Bruce nodded; he glanced to the other one, nodded once, and went for it-- carefully, slowly; as quietly as one could with one's feet peeling away from the sticky ground.

He got himself situated in the booth, glancing ovre and giving a nod. Yes, he's ready, hands on the valve.

Time to go to work.

If this doesn't want, they're not quite screwed but Tony will have to go deeper into the muck. Alone. Banner will need to stay back here and work the valves while he clears the vents that lead the the cold, dangerous vacuum of space.

Fifty degrees. He counts to ten and watches the gauge as it moves downward. He turns his own wheel. Forty degrees. Soon. God, he hopes it's soon. He's dehydrating too quickly.

Bruce does his part. Twist, twist. He's calm, at least, not targeted. He's doing a good, keeping calm, and he stopped limping, leg straight.

Thirty degrees. Then twenty. Ten more...

...and that's it, right? They're good, now, right? No overheating, no nothing? He looks across at Tony, expectant, hopeful--

The hiss makes Tony fist bump in the air, grinning wide through a filthy mask that can not hide his joy. It's already starting to feel cooler, the head disipating as cold air blasts down at them from the vents.

It's not a good place to be, however, as they're in the entry way of a breeding chamber. It's hot for a reason.

And, unfortunately, it had hissed for a reason too. That's not the air conditioning. That's one of those scorpion like creatures. Tony turns, slowly, to glance behind his shoulder when it jumps for him.

"Tony!"

In the moment he forgets himself. He doesn't get angry, he gets scared. He knows what those face-grabbing things to do, and is pretty sure Tony doesn't want to be an egg incubator, or give head to an alien that'll come out of his chest.

Bruce is already reaching, ready to grab, rend, fight...

...but keeps the green at bay. He'd be just as likely to hurt Tony as he lost control as he is to kill the breeder.

it was like twice te size of the other tag and had more internal angst. probably for the best.

Tony's angst only ever comes when it's crunch time so Bruce can angst away

bruce is actually the giant green angst monster.

Anyone reason Tony feels compelled to stroke his hair. Their bromance is lovely.

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