The Batman (Reagan)’s Comments (group member since May 01, 2025)

The Batman (Reagan)’s comments from the Stranded group.

((Sorry I haven't been active. I'm struggling through this semester and just haven't been in the right headspace to give this proper attention.))

#001 thought about what to say. Eventually he landed on, "So, you wanna explore... wherever we are? Or do you need help with your projects?"

No plans to. I'm just busy.

((Maybe they can find some scrap parts from another portion of the station at some point? Also, #003 has a forge. So we can meet with her. But I don't want it to be right away.))

"There's a lot of systems down all over this place. I'm sure you can find something else to fix. The lights would be a good start." #001 said trying to offer an alternative. He felt bad for shutting her down. For creating problems without offering solutions. Constructive criticism was more about the first half.

"Sure, but that's days of work. If not longer. And where would you find the equipment? Or the raw materials? I thought you just wanted to reaarange the existing parts. Which I don't think would be feasible."

"Sometimes that happens. One man's trash is another man's... or woman's treasure, you know? I didn't think girl's got sentimental in the same way." He shrugged. "The fact that you see its potential in spite of its unfinished state is proof of the bond. It's your responsibility to finish it or to find someone to finish it. That can be a little trickier, but sometimes you get lucky and find someone who understands the bond enough to make sure it's done right."

"Oh! Well you see..." #225 raises his own stick, "there comes a time in every guy's life whether, he's hiking in the woods, or playing in his backyard as a child, or cleaning up his property after a storm when he finds the perfect stick. To everyone else, it is a mere lump of wood. But to the guy, it is a sword, a scepter, a cane, a walking stick... a gun even. Sometimes, rarely, it can happen with rocks too, but the versatility of form is far more limited and I don't think it stems from the same phenomenon. It's a more raw, brutalist connection. Anyway, I think you know when you've attuned with a stick when it feels like an extension of yourself. Like, there's a bond between a living thing and something that longs to be alive again."

"Woah, my dude!" #225 raised his hands defensively. "Absolutely not trying to usurp your position. The marsh has trees too." He laced his fingers together. "Interconnected root system, ya know?" He looked thoughtful. "Apropos of nothing, do you think there are any long term side-effects of breathing in swamp gases on the regular?"

"Where?" #001 asked. "Unless we can find scrap yard these parts will need to be custom fabricted. We'll need forges, furnaces, presses, hot rollers, cold rollers, picklers for annealing..." Why was this starting to make sense?

#001 followed, curious to see what she'd do. The vending machine hadn't seemed that slow to him. But then, he had no metric to base that assumption on. "Just pronise me the Jukebox stays as it is?" He asked. "It's perfect." The speakers were now playing Same As It Ever Was by Talking Heads.

#225 shrugged. "That one of the newbies from the big station?" He said just trying to.make conversation. It was rare that he and #003 actually had a full conversation. Especially since #003 had been in... whatever mood she'd been in a bit ago. Emotions were weird. Pheromones made a lot more sense. Oh shoot! He thought. I'm thinking like a tree again.

"I can be Weird Bro if you're cool with Lady Bro.." #225 looked up. "Oh Hey #003. Nice boa. Is that what you call 'em when they're mink or... foxes?" He shrugged. "Never was big on fashion even before my only outfit was this jumpsuit, but you make that look good!" He gave a thumbs up, then used the same thumb to point at the woods behind him. "We're gonna go try to find some honey. Wanna come with?"

"That would be the wrong soliloquy for the skull, though." #001 replied. He stidied the notes but could make little headway toward understanding them. "I'm not even sure how a regular vending machine works to be honest, but this is beyond esoteric to me. Might as well be arcane."

"Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio. A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy." #001 quoted the only line he could ever remember of Hamlet in a silly voice. Wait, he thought, Why do I remember Hamlet and Treasure Island but not my name? He set the skull down on its shelf and decided to see what #012 was up to. "How do you knw what you're doing?" He asked.

The lights are off in the room, with the window providing the only illumination. The floor is carpeted with a short white rug. The titanium walls are covered with false hardwood panels.

In one desk drawer are a few cargo manifests signed in haste by, presumably, the captain and a second signature. The names are hard to make out at a glance due to the heavy stylization of the signature.
There is a Newton's Cradle in another, which presumably would have been set on the desk after the crew had arrived. There is also a ceramic cup full of pens of all sorts. In an adjacent closet are a few white uniforms and a dressier one with blue accents and epaulets.

#001 began searching through the storage shelves. Most are empty. It seems that the captain intended to collect trinkets over time one they'd arrived. He unwrapped some protective material from an object in a battered box and found an animal skull of some sort. It had sharp teeth in an elongated snout and seemed to have two eyes holes on either side of its head and a third in its forehead. He manipulated a tusked lower jaw and spoke in a low voice as He turned it to face #012. "Hello! What are you doing in my office?"

[[WIP]]

#001 nodded his appreciation and began to chow down. When he was finished he decided to leave the plastic trays on the table for now. He didn't see a trash can and he figured their was some sort of panel that would open a drawer. But for now, that wasn't important. "Come on!"

"Yeah, man! You're the bug net guy! Wasn't trying to butt out my Stick Buddy. Just trying to invite the lady-bro to come along too." #225 answered. "If you get stung, Lady-bro, it was you who decided to join us."

"To get some honey." #225 said as if that explained anything. "So you coming then?"

"Probably for the best." #225 agrees with #002. "Lots of weird stuff happening on this island, man. "If you stop to think about it to long it becomes increasingly easier to get lost in the sauce!" He states into the fire for a moment too long before shaking his head and standing.