eyemind | a bumpy start! {glyphcomm + action}

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a bumpy start! {glyphcomm + action}

You wake up to the sound of alarms and a distinct sensation of quaking, and you're quite obviously not where you're supposed to be. This room is strangely shaped, nothing you recognize, and you definitely don't remember how you got here. The room is bathed in soft red light, which might look pretty, except it's blinking in a way that you can probably guess signals danger.

There's a symbol on the back of your hand that you don't remember acquiring, either, but that's probably less important at the moment than the sound of the alarms shrieking and the prerecorded voice speaking over the intercom. It's one of those bland, agender voices, entirely too calm in tone for the message it's relaying:

WARNING
WARNING
IMPACT THREAT DETECTED
EVASIVE ACTION REQUIRED

There’s a loud crash and another violent shaking, as that impact threat collides with the ship’s hull. The warning message continues to repeat on a loop amidst the blaring of the alarm. All passengers should be conscious now, with the noise at such a high volume. Opening your cabin door reveals a nondescript hallway, with five cabin doors on each side for a total of ten on each floor; the doors to the empty cabins are unlocked and inside the cabins hold the same plain, basic furnishings as your own. Halfway into the hallway, there is a lift on one side and a set of stairs on the other.

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Nevermind the bit of a freakout he had waking up in all this. Jon hesitates for a breath before following the instruction and leaving his room and going down? Downstairs. He's a little scruffy from a long flight already and keeps his bag slung over one shoulder.

"What-- Hand holding. That-that's what's going to help this?"

"Apparently."

If he sounds distinctly less than impressed by the idea, it's because he is. And never mind the fact that he might actually be willing to try, if it makes the difference between having to find another mortal host and not having to.

"There has to be a better argument for it."

Jon's not exactly pleased either - one hand being still bandaged up to heal might be part of it.

"Given the alternative--" namely, running the risk of being shot down by their pursuers "--I'm... willing to entertain the course of action proposed thus far."

It's irritating, and he is absolutely going to complain the whole way through. But mid-battle is hardly the time to go poking about in the inner workings of a ship he only just arrived on. Especially when the alarm alone is enough to suggest that it is not anything like a Garlean ship.

It's not even the notion of holding hands that's throwing Jon for a loop. It's the mechanics of the thing. How does that help save their ship? It doesn't make any logical sense. Emet's dress code will catch up once there's less alarms and lights going.

But that makes two of them on the 'complaining the whole way through' train.

"Just- seems like standing around like this isn't going to do much," is what ultimately gets grumbled out while he holds out his uninjured hand.

It's definitely one of the stranger things that he's been asked to do. And given some of the things he's done, that's saying quite a lot. It's certainly not entirely beyond the realm of the impossible? Not when a population's prayers can - under the right circumstance - bring forth a god-like entity, but why here and now is another question entirely.

"That would seem to be the case."

Not anything productive anyway, for all that he'd much prefer that they were in literally any other situation. Still, he does take Jon's hand, even if it's clear he would much rather not have to.

Or an eldritch fear entity. Tomato, tomahto.

Being threatened into hand holding by death. Christ. Martin would love this, it's exactly his kind of problem solving.

"So what happens when this doesn't magically solve the crashing problem and we all die anyway?"

"I suppose that would depend on what you believe happens after death."

He knows how it works for himself, of course. One small advantage to being all but immortal. But he's never really bothered to care about what the other inhabitants of the realm should care to believe about what waits beyond death. If indeed anything does.

"Or perhaps our attackers will be feeling particularly merciful."

Though he doubts that, given what he's seen so far.

"Or, maybe this is all a laugh and I'll wake up on my flight."

He won't. But it's nice to tell himself and pretend it's an option. Jon takes in a long, slow inhale before holding it a moment and letting it out.

"....Wonder how long this will take."

"However long it needs to, I assume."

Although for his part, he hopes that it doesn't take too long. And not just because he'd much prefer to not have to hold people's hands for hours on end. Even how much he's already done is more than he particularly cares for.

"But if that's what you choose to believe, I certainly can't stop you.

"And unfortunately believing doesn't make reality."

He shifts his feet, readjusting to be a little more steady and sighs so loudly. For a guy already going gray, he's got the nervous energy of a teenager. Anxiety, what a concept.

"It rarely does, no."

Now is, perhaps, not the best time to get into the details of summoning, for all that he would be more than willing to do so in theory. Even if it might well be a welcome distraction from their potentially imminent death.

Yeah, that probably isn't a subject to take up with Jon at this point in time.

"I don't suppose you know anything more than I do in this situation?"

"I don't precisely have experience with any of this, no."

And he still doesn't much care for the idea of this being the thing that they've been asked to do. That said, for all that he is absolutely going to continue to be grumpy about it until further notice, he does also take a moment to consider the situation a little more thoroughly, before finally speaking up again.

"That said, the idea of providing a power transfusion to a failing core is not entirely unfamiliar. Although the execution is distinctly atypical."

She gives him what she hopes is an encouraging smile, if a somewhat long suffering one.

"Apparently. And since I don't know what else to do, I figured... probably best to at least try it. But I'm open to suggestions."

"Other suggestions like a pilot with experience? Emergency landing?"

"So you're a pilot?" she asks immediately. Because she's certainly taken the pilot's seat a few times in emergencies but it's definitely not her skill. Or one she's confident about.

"God, no." Unfortunately this scrawny man is about as disheveled as they come, neck and hand bandaged up and quite frazzled really.

"I meant literally anyone to be piloting."

Ah. Well, uh. Hm. She gives him another encouraging smile and tries to do what she can to provide... something? Reassurance?

"I think this ship is either run by an AI or is partially alive. And it is what's driving right now. And, hopefully, that means it knows what it's doing."

She tilts her head.

"We're not exploded yet, after all."

"And I'm not entirely sure this isn't just a weird dream."

But he's looking around, definitely aware and trying to figure out what he can. He knows it's not a dream though.

"Then. Then what do you propose? The absurd idea it just gave us?"

"If it is," she says, "then it's one that we're sharing right now. Which is probably it's own problem."

She sighs a little and wishes she could run a hand through her hair but she's got her hands in other people's hands.

"And yes, given I don't actually have any better options. And haven't heard any that were even somewhat reasonable."

Could she get out of this ship? Maybe. Could she save all the others? Definitely not. Not without more information and she'd rather go for a safer bet, especially since the ship itself might be alive. She can't leave it to die either.

"But I've got open ears here."

Jon is looking around, hands unsure what to do before adjusting his bag over his shoulder.

"This whole thing is -- Augh!"

Fine. Fine, he'll. Take someone's bloody stupid hand.

"You sound much more at ease with this than you should."

"Believe me," she says mildly enough, "I'm not really at ease with anything. But getting us out of this is the priority. And adding more panic to the situation won't help with that."

Her lips twist with a wry smile.

"I used to be a lawyer. Trust me when I say I'm going to voice my complaints later."

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a bumpy start! {glyphcomm + action}

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