WHO: mine + various WHERE: around the ship WHEN: throughout the duration of the event WHAT: getting trapped, malfunctions, etc!! WARNINGS: nah not really
[ This morning starts out as most mornings do: normal. Dorian wakes up early as he tends to do and gets himself ready to face the day. It may be a little bit of a routine he's fallen into, but he can't find much to complain about. He's getting exercise and that's important! Certainly better than sitting around day after day after day and not doing much else. He hadn't realized how... sedentary life could be on a spaceship.
Not that he'd ever contemplated it before now, but that is neither here nor there.
Point is, is that he's come to enjoy going for a bit of a jog around the atrium with Cullen and Pup. At least they can pretend they're outside. One of these days he's going to suggest they try that holo-program to see if they can figure out something to look like home. Or, at least, one of their homes. Dorian doesn't think Cullen would be all that interested in seeing Tevinter. But, that is neither here nor there.
Just as he finishes dressing, he glances at the clock and sees they'll be here soon, so he opens the door so they can come right in as he leans over the mirror on his desk to make sure not a hair is out of place on his mustache. And when he hears the familiar clicking of Pup's nails on the floor, he smiles a little to himself and calls out; ]
[ Having some measure of familiarity is more helpful to Cullen than he might admit. That isn't to say that he's adjusting badly to life on this strange vessel, but it is not going as well as it might if he could walk outside and breathe real air or feel the wide expanse of the world stretching out around him. The ship might be larger than any he's ever been aboard, but he's still confined and his subconscious knows that.
The daily runs with Pup and Dorian in the fake outdoors keep the claustrophobia at bay. Not completely. But enough that Cullen's life here is manageable and not a constant source of tension.
He is not so immaculately groomed when he walks into Dorian's quarters. His loose tunic and trousers are clean and pressed, but there's stubble across his jaw and his hair isn't quite as well styled as usual. Running a little late, he'd taken less time to get ready.
There's a smile in his voice and smirking its way across his mouth as he walks in, Pup bounding ahead to butt up against Dorian's hip in greeting. ]
Are you going somewhere important after our morning run?
[ Though Dorian feigns offense at being knocked into by Pup, he's really not. And that shows in the way he stops what he's doing and gives a bit of a solid rub against his head, being sure to get just behind his ears. Never in his life did he imagine himself feeling any sort of fondness for a mabari, but... well, here he is. He could claim it's unfortunate, but, he hasn't found much to complain about.
Beyond his normal amount of complaining, at any rate.
He gives a once over to Cullen, that look speaking for him that he's disappointed in his wardrobe state, but deigns it worthy enough to be seen with him. Straightening up, he wipes his hands on a small hand-towel and offers a bright smile. ]
No, of course not. I just—
[ Except, Dorian really never gets to finish that thought because it's almost as if the whole world turns upside down. The ship jolts and Dorian feels his feet leave the ground and never quite make it back down. The lights flicker then go out at the same time the loud, metallic clang of the door closes, sealing them in. His heart is racing as he scrambles to find some sort of solid ground. Which doesn't really happen and he's floating a bit on his side. ]
Andraste's flaming arse! [ In his palm, a little flame flickers to life. ] Cullen?
[ Dorian may pretend he hates dogs all he wants, but Cullen notices these little gestures that belie his insistence that the creatures disgust him. And just as well, too. Cullen can't imagine how an intelligent, rational person might dislike a dog. He notices the look that he himself gets and rolls his eyes. They're going to exercise, not parade about in front of lords and ladies.
Not that Cullen would care overmuch about that either. Almost halfway to forty and he still has no use for nobility.
It's right in the middle of Dorian's sentence that... something happens. Cullen isn't even sure what it is. One moment he's standing there facing him, and the next it's dark as pitch and there's nothing under his feet. Somewhere in the darkness, Pup yelps. Cullen jerks his head in the direction of the sound automatically and that sends him into an uncontrolled spin. ]
What in the Maker's name is going on? [ Flailing about, he bashes into the hard surface of some bit of furniture. A table, he notices a moment later, as Dorian's fire sheds some light on their situation. ] Is this magic? What is it?
[ For just a few passing moments, Dorian is silent as he tries to reach out to... well, anything. There's clearly something going on here, but he can't quite figure out just what. He could claim it isn't magic, but... ultimately, he doesn't know for certain. There are so many things here that he can't explain. And that, in itself, could be a form of magic. ]
If it truly is magic, it's unlike anything I've experienced.
[ And Dorian, as it happens, has had quite a bit of experience in the area of magic.
Deciding the palm-sized firelight isn't going to be much help, it gets extinguished with a simple twitch of his finger. They're not left in the dark for long, as in the next moment he makes a sweeping gesture and dozens of magelights spread throughout the room. It isn't nearly bright as day, but bright enough to light the space so they can see one another and attempt to navigate the levitating objects in the room. Suddenly, Dorian sees the downfall to hoarding books and paper.
Though he tries to nonchalantly move himself from his side to something more upright, it doesn't seem to really work, he does turn his attention to Cullen and there is the slightest pinch to his brow. ]
[ It's easier to move underwater than it is to move about like this. Cullen struggles uselessly for what seems like a small eternity to get himself upright and still. Off to the side, he can see Pup scrabbling for some kind of footing and to the other, Dorian, who looks to be in better shape than the rest of them. ]
I'm uninjured, but...
[ From what Cullen can see in the magelights, Pup and Dorian both appear uninjured as well. That doesn't explain why he's floating in air, though. His shoulder collides with the wall and for a few seconds, he's able to stabilize himself. ]
We need to get out of here. Whatever's happened to this room, it cannot be safe. [ He glances toward the door, already having worked out that excessive movement only makes the uncontrolled floating worse. ] Can you make it to the door?
[ Just because he appears in better shape doesn't mean he actually is in better shape. Even in this Dorian is adapting as he always does to not let anyone see how out of sorts he really is.
Silently he watches Cullen for a few passing moments. For the most part, they all seem fine. They're just... floating. Which is more annoying than Dorian can really even say. And trust that were the situation less concerning, he would be complaining much more. Some papers flitter across Dorian and a book bumps into him from behind and it takes all of his willpower to not fuss over it and send himself into a tailspin.
Eventually, he does shift his gaze to the door. Under normal circumstances he knows he could get there without delay. Because of this however... Dorian questions what he can and can't do. He does soon figure out a way that might work. Because Dorian tends to think his ideas are all good ones, he believes this to be one as well. ]
I suppose we shall see, yes? Though, I do have cause to wonder if this is something that happens to occur while on a vessel while sailing through nothing.
[ Not that it's necessary, but it's Dorian and he's Dorian, he pushes up his sleeves a bit before holding his hands behind himself. There are a few small popping sounds as he uses some Force magic to make the attempt to propel himself toward the door. It seems to be working, for the most part, and Dorian even manages to get himself more upright than he was before.
Which is, of course, when he uses a little too much and winds up crashing nose first into the door. He huffs, put out by that but pretends it didn't happen. He pushes against the door itself, trying to somehow pry it open but... nothing seems to be happening. He pushes the buttons on the little keypad but that doesn't appear to be working, either.
Dorian sniffs then clears his throat before he gives Cullen a look over his shoulder. ]
I don't wish to alarm you, but it appears we are stuck in here.
[ It's a clever application of magic, and even though Cullen cannot sense it anymore, some marrow-deep part of him recognizes when Dorian uses it. There's just the faintest gleam of approval in his eyes as he watches him sail toward the door. This is likely part of the reason that Dorian is now a magister. Cullen doubts very much that a fool would hold a seat for long in magisterium, if one might even earn it in the first place.
He doesn't wince when Dorian crashes into the door, but some inward part of him recoils in sympathy. He's taken a blow across the face often enough to know it doesn't feel pleasant. Though he hadn't been going overly fast, so perhaps the collision doesn't hurt too terribly. ]
What? [ It's practically startled out of him. Cullen goes to move toward the door himself, but ends up only uselessly treading air. ] Surely that cannot be.
[ The proof, however, is right before his eyes. If Dorian had been able to get it open, he would have done so. Nothing changes, exactly, but Cullen still feels the icy prickle of dread to hear that they're trapped there. The walls seem awfully close all of a sudden. ]
Your magic? [ Dorian isn't stupid, as Cullen well knows, yet he finds himself asking the obvious anyway, his voice just a little tight. ] Might an application of Force pry open the doors?
[ Dorian wets his lips and stares at the door for more than just a few passing moments. He does glance back over at Cullen, briefly, before turning back to the door again. Granted, Dorian knows his magic very well and knows the magic of Thedas very well. But, this?
...There are far too many different things here that he doesn't know how anything might react. He doesn't know how everything will react to his magic or the magic currently happening right now. ]
I cannot claim yes or no. But, it's certainly worth a try.
[ Because surely he can figure this out! Surely Dorian can find a way to fix this and counter these effects! It's a little difficult to maintain his posture and has to tone down his display exponentially in order to get anything done. He doesn't believe Force will help much, but keeps it in mind. A hand is pressed to the door and he heats it quickly. Fire cuts through metal and these doors are some form of it. That might work, right?
So he thinks. But, apparently, he's quite wrong. Nothing really happens with that beyond heating the door too hot he nearly melts his clothes. From there he gets the idea to freeze it rapidly in hopes that the quick change in temperature will make it brittle, then apply the Force.
Turns out that doesn't really work either and just sends Dorian tumbling through the air back across the room. When he stops he's mid-tumble and upside-down. He sighs and eventually rights himself, glaring murder at the door. ]
Right, so. [ He lifts a hand, fussing with the curl of one side of his mustache. Admitting defeat is rather annoying and he doesn't like it. ] I don't believe that is going to work as intended.
[ Cullen watches as closely as he can, the flickering shadows and the uncontrolled floating spin making keeping his eyes on Dorian and what he's doing harder than usual. He's not an overly optimistic man, he's seen too much to be that, but this is no ordinary southern Circle trained mage, half afraid of wielding power. This is Dorian, eminently confident, better trained than even the best of the southern First Enchanters, and extraordinarily powerful. This is a Tevinter magister.
If Dorian cannot do this, likely no one can.
When said Tevinter magister goes flying back through the air after a burst of power—Cullen can still feel the faintest echo of the magic deep inside his bones, like a fleeting glimpse of shadow from the corner of his eyes—he realizes that they're well and truly trapped. And that sends the tendrils of panic racing through his body, icy cold and dreadfully tight as they wrap around him.
The four walls that surround them seem closer than they were an instant ago. The air seems thicker. The ceiling lower. ]
We're trapped here? [ Thankfully, his voice remains relatively calm, though it grows tighter by tiny increments as he speaks. ] In this small room?
[ Something is definitely amiss. Cullen may not be screaming the issue, but Dorian can figure it out easily enough by the context clues.
It's just a shame he can't do much about it since they're confined to the area until something can be figured out. Dorian knows better than to make this situation into something bigger by pointing it out. So, he'll do a bit of creative talking to help things get away from the bad and back to the good.
Or, at least, semi-decent while they're trapped in space.
Dorian makes a thoughtful sort of noise as if there's something to properly contemplate. ]
I would more liken it to simply a new way of spending time together!
[ Because floating around with no gravity is certainly new for Dorian. ]
[Theoretically, no. Having an excuse to spend the day with a friend is not a waste of a day. And perhaps it would be interesting to explore precisely what is going on with the air in here with someone as clever as Dorian. But Cullen can't really recognize any of that right now. Or see it as an opportunity.
All he knows is that he's trapped in a small space and that the powerful mage with him can't get them out of it.
It's like a crawling beneath his skin. The lack of exits itch. It feels suffocating. Like his skin is too small for his body and he's going to go mad trapped inside of it. ]
Dorian, I... [ Part of him wants to panic. The prideful part of him won't allow it. Not when someone is present to watch him do it. Not when he might be needed to help them escape their predicament. He doesn't want to have to admit it, but at the same time, he believes that Dorian deserves to know that he may not be as reliable as he ought to be. Just in case. ] I'm afraid I don't do very well in enclosed spaces.
As it happens, there are worse things that can happen on this afterlife trip from hell than working at a strip joint and dealing with hostile aliens. Turns out, it's being trapped with a guy who doesn't know when the hell to stop talking.
For the most part, things have been working fine. That's why Maine ventured out to get some more supplies to stockpile ( paranoia runs high when dealing with "retired" agents of Project Freelancer ) just in case the systems try and fail again. He's been wandering around with his armor on, though, for more than just one reason. It's just easier if he gets caught out here and the gravity fails again ( thank god for those grav-boots ) or the life-support goes down ( helps having that oxygen ). Not to mention he's much stronger inside the armor than outside ( though, he's still impressive without, to be sure ).
Doesn't mean it really helps with his patience or temper, though. Because as soon as those metal shutters snap closed on the storefront, Maine feels that spike of anger prick in the pit of his stomach. He wishes these people would get their fucking shit together and fix what's wrong without all these extra mishaps.
...He also wishes he had something to cut through the metal. He should've gone to the armory first to get something like that. Next stop. The lights on his helmet give him some visibility looking for some seam in the door or even in the window area, but so far, nothing. He pulls a flashlight out of one of his packs and rumbles a noise to get Chatty-with-the-Mustache's attention before tossing it his way. Then, he jerks his head toward the side for him to start looking, too. Maybe he'll turn out to be some sort of help in the end before Maine has to get physical. ]
[ Coran, meanwhile, has been having a pretty okay time with this new companionship. You know, once he wasn't immediately murdered. Never know what's going to happen!
His goal in making the trip to the main ship from the Castle was to be in a better position to help figure out some answers. About anything that's been happening, really. Maybe even to help with repairs, only as it turns out, no matter how experienced, a mustache product tester doesn't quite equate to the crew aboard as a qualified candidate. But at the very least, he'd thought, he could pick a few things up to run over to the Castle, or to some fellow Eluvio wanderers in need.
Things, as ever, don't quite go as planned. Still, it's nice to have someone around this time! Sealed in or no. Coran catches the flashlight Maine tosses his way, turning it over in his hands a couple of times before catching up to what it is. Let there be light, bro. ]
Thanks! Oh, this'll make navigating much easier! You're certainly the prepared sort, aren't you?
[ It's probably a good thing he doesn't have any murdering tendencies. ...hahaha. Even if he might be quietly contemplating it now because that mustache reminds him of his past and there's just something about it that's irritating. Not this guy's fault, though.
He doesn't really acknowledge what he says beyond an answering grunt that is just on this side of exasperated. Being here isn't through any fault of theirs, but Maine is still annoyed. This ship needs to get their shit together. After a long, silent deliberation, Maine removes something from one of the pouches on his armor and lifts his hand to the back of his head. Another passing moment and a strong, low voice comes from the communicator clipped to the mag holster on his thigh. ]
You could say that. System failures aren't new to me.
[ Aha! That's one mystery solved. Case of the voice: check. ]
They're not new to me, either. The ship I'm looking after wasn't particularly well-equipped for so many vital failures at once, though. It's what brought me over here! Hoping to get things back in order. Not that the crew here seems to be faring any better.
[ They'd surely have to have a large selection of engineers hard at work, though, wouldn't they? ]
Edited (i use words twice it is my special ability) 2017-02-28 03:26 (UTC)
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@cullen
Not that he'd ever contemplated it before now, but that is neither here nor there.
Point is, is that he's come to enjoy going for a bit of a jog around the atrium with Cullen and Pup. At least they can pretend they're outside. One of these days he's going to suggest they try that holo-program to see if they can figure out something to look like home. Or, at least, one of their homes. Dorian doesn't think Cullen would be all that interested in seeing Tevinter. But, that is neither here nor there.
Just as he finishes dressing, he glances at the clock and sees they'll be here soon, so he opens the door so they can come right in as he leans over the mirror on his desk to make sure not a hair is out of place on his mustache. And when he hears the familiar clicking of Pup's nails on the floor, he smiles a little to himself and calls out; ]
Come in, I won't be but a moment longer!
no subject
The daily runs with Pup and Dorian in the fake outdoors keep the claustrophobia at bay. Not completely. But enough that Cullen's life here is manageable and not a constant source of tension.
He is not so immaculately groomed when he walks into Dorian's quarters. His loose tunic and trousers are clean and pressed, but there's stubble across his jaw and his hair isn't quite as well styled as usual. Running a little late, he'd taken less time to get ready.
There's a smile in his voice and smirking its way across his mouth as he walks in, Pup bounding ahead to butt up against Dorian's hip in greeting. ]
Are you going somewhere important after our morning run?
no subject
Beyond his normal amount of complaining, at any rate.
He gives a once over to Cullen, that look speaking for him that he's disappointed in his wardrobe state, but deigns it worthy enough to be seen with him. Straightening up, he wipes his hands on a small hand-towel and offers a bright smile. ]
No, of course not. I just—
[ Except, Dorian really never gets to finish that thought because it's almost as if the whole world turns upside down. The ship jolts and Dorian feels his feet leave the ground and never quite make it back down. The lights flicker then go out at the same time the loud, metallic clang of the door closes, sealing them in. His heart is racing as he scrambles to find some sort of solid ground. Which doesn't really happen and he's floating a bit on his side. ]
Andraste's flaming arse! [ In his palm, a little flame flickers to life. ] Cullen?
no subject
Not that Cullen would care overmuch about that either. Almost halfway to forty and he still has no use for nobility.
It's right in the middle of Dorian's sentence that... something happens. Cullen isn't even sure what it is. One moment he's standing there facing him, and the next it's dark as pitch and there's nothing under his feet. Somewhere in the darkness, Pup yelps. Cullen jerks his head in the direction of the sound automatically and that sends him into an uncontrolled spin. ]
What in the Maker's name is going on? [ Flailing about, he bashes into the hard surface of some bit of furniture. A table, he notices a moment later, as Dorian's fire sheds some light on their situation. ] Is this magic? What is it?
no subject
If it truly is magic, it's unlike anything I've experienced.
[ And Dorian, as it happens, has had quite a bit of experience in the area of magic.
Deciding the palm-sized firelight isn't going to be much help, it gets extinguished with a simple twitch of his finger. They're not left in the dark for long, as in the next moment he makes a sweeping gesture and dozens of magelights spread throughout the room. It isn't nearly bright as day, but bright enough to light the space so they can see one another and attempt to navigate the levitating objects in the room. Suddenly, Dorian sees the downfall to hoarding books and paper.
Though he tries to nonchalantly move himself from his side to something more upright, it doesn't seem to really work, he does turn his attention to Cullen and there is the slightest pinch to his brow. ]
Are you all right?
no subject
I'm uninjured, but...
[ From what Cullen can see in the magelights, Pup and Dorian both appear uninjured as well. That doesn't explain why he's floating in air, though. His shoulder collides with the wall and for a few seconds, he's able to stabilize himself. ]
We need to get out of here. Whatever's happened to this room, it cannot be safe. [ He glances toward the door, already having worked out that excessive movement only makes the uncontrolled floating worse. ] Can you make it to the door?
no subject
Silently he watches Cullen for a few passing moments. For the most part, they all seem fine. They're just... floating. Which is more annoying than Dorian can really even say. And trust that were the situation less concerning, he would be complaining much more. Some papers flitter across Dorian and a book bumps into him from behind and it takes all of his willpower to not fuss over it and send himself into a tailspin.
Eventually, he does shift his gaze to the door. Under normal circumstances he knows he could get there without delay. Because of this however... Dorian questions what he can and can't do. He does soon figure out a way that might work. Because Dorian tends to think his ideas are all good ones, he believes this to be one as well. ]
I suppose we shall see, yes? Though, I do have cause to wonder if this is something that happens to occur while on a vessel while sailing through nothing.
[ Not that it's necessary, but it's Dorian and he's Dorian, he pushes up his sleeves a bit before holding his hands behind himself. There are a few small popping sounds as he uses some Force magic to make the attempt to propel himself toward the door. It seems to be working, for the most part, and Dorian even manages to get himself more upright than he was before.
Which is, of course, when he uses a little too much and winds up crashing nose first into the door. He huffs, put out by that but pretends it didn't happen. He pushes against the door itself, trying to somehow pry it open but... nothing seems to be happening. He pushes the buttons on the little keypad but that doesn't appear to be working, either.
Dorian sniffs then clears his throat before he gives Cullen a look over his shoulder. ]
I don't wish to alarm you, but it appears we are stuck in here.
no subject
He doesn't wince when Dorian crashes into the door, but some inward part of him recoils in sympathy. He's taken a blow across the face often enough to know it doesn't feel pleasant. Though he hadn't been going overly fast, so perhaps the collision doesn't hurt too terribly. ]
What? [ It's practically startled out of him. Cullen goes to move toward the door himself, but ends up only uselessly treading air. ] Surely that cannot be.
[ The proof, however, is right before his eyes. If Dorian had been able to get it open, he would have done so. Nothing changes, exactly, but Cullen still feels the icy prickle of dread to hear that they're trapped there. The walls seem awfully close all of a sudden. ]
Your magic? [ Dorian isn't stupid, as Cullen well knows, yet he finds himself asking the obvious anyway, his voice just a little tight. ] Might an application of Force pry open the doors?
no subject
...There are far too many different things here that he doesn't know how anything might react. He doesn't know how everything will react to his magic or the magic currently happening right now. ]
I cannot claim yes or no. But, it's certainly worth a try.
[ Because surely he can figure this out! Surely Dorian can find a way to fix this and counter these effects! It's a little difficult to maintain his posture and has to tone down his display exponentially in order to get anything done. He doesn't believe Force will help much, but keeps it in mind. A hand is pressed to the door and he heats it quickly. Fire cuts through metal and these doors are some form of it. That might work, right?
So he thinks. But, apparently, he's quite wrong. Nothing really happens with that beyond heating the door too hot he nearly melts his clothes. From there he gets the idea to freeze it rapidly in hopes that the quick change in temperature will make it brittle, then apply the Force.
Turns out that doesn't really work either and just sends Dorian tumbling through the air back across the room. When he stops he's mid-tumble and upside-down. He sighs and eventually rights himself, glaring murder at the door. ]
Right, so. [ He lifts a hand, fussing with the curl of one side of his mustache. Admitting defeat is rather annoying and he doesn't like it. ] I don't believe that is going to work as intended.
no subject
If Dorian cannot do this, likely no one can.
When said Tevinter magister goes flying back through the air after a burst of power—Cullen can still feel the faintest echo of the magic deep inside his bones, like a fleeting glimpse of shadow from the corner of his eyes—he realizes that they're well and truly trapped. And that sends the tendrils of panic racing through his body, icy cold and dreadfully tight as they wrap around him.
The four walls that surround them seem closer than they were an instant ago. The air seems thicker. The ceiling lower. ]
We're trapped here? [ Thankfully, his voice remains relatively calm, though it grows tighter by tiny increments as he speaks. ] In this small room?
no subject
It's just a shame he can't do much about it since they're confined to the area until something can be figured out. Dorian knows better than to make this situation into something bigger by pointing it out. So, he'll do a bit of creative talking to help things get away from the bad and back to the good.
Or, at least, semi-decent while they're trapped in space.
Dorian makes a thoughtful sort of noise as if there's something to properly contemplate. ]
I would more liken it to simply a new way of spending time together!
[ Because floating around with no gravity is certainly new for Dorian. ]
It's not a terribly bad way to waste the day.
no subject
All he knows is that he's trapped in a small space and that the powerful mage with him can't get them out of it.
It's like a crawling beneath his skin. The lack of exits itch. It feels suffocating. Like his skin is too small for his body and he's going to go mad trapped inside of it. ]
Dorian, I... [ Part of him wants to panic. The prideful part of him won't allow it. Not when someone is present to watch him do it. Not when he might be needed to help them escape their predicament. He doesn't want to have to admit it, but at the same time, he believes that Dorian deserves to know that he may not be as reliable as he ought to be. Just in case. ] I'm afraid I don't do very well in enclosed spaces.
@coran
As it happens, there are worse things that can happen on this afterlife trip from hell than working at a strip joint and dealing with hostile aliens. Turns out, it's being trapped with a guy who doesn't know when the hell to stop talking.
For the most part, things have been working fine. That's why Maine ventured out to get some more supplies to stockpile ( paranoia runs high when dealing with "retired" agents of Project Freelancer ) just in case the systems try and fail again. He's been wandering around with his armor on, though, for more than just one reason. It's just easier if he gets caught out here and the gravity fails again ( thank god for those grav-boots ) or the life-support goes down ( helps having that oxygen ). Not to mention he's much stronger inside the armor than outside ( though, he's still impressive without, to be sure ).
Doesn't mean it really helps with his patience or temper, though. Because as soon as those metal shutters snap closed on the storefront, Maine feels that spike of anger prick in the pit of his stomach. He wishes these people would get their fucking shit together and fix what's wrong without all these extra mishaps.
...He also wishes he had something to cut through the metal. He should've gone to the armory first to get something like that. Next stop. The lights on his helmet give him some visibility looking for some seam in the door or even in the window area, but so far, nothing. He pulls a flashlight out of one of his packs and rumbles a noise to get Chatty-with-the-Mustache's attention before tossing it his way. Then, he jerks his head toward the side for him to start looking, too. Maybe he'll turn out to be some sort of help in the end before Maine has to get physical. ]
no subject
His goal in making the trip to the main ship from the Castle was to be in a better position to help figure out some answers. About anything that's been happening, really. Maybe even to help with repairs, only as it turns out, no matter how experienced, a mustache product tester doesn't quite equate to the crew aboard as a qualified candidate. But at the very least, he'd thought, he could pick a few things up to run over to the Castle, or to some fellow Eluvio wanderers in need.
Things, as ever, don't quite go as planned. Still, it's nice to have someone around this time! Sealed in or no. Coran catches the flashlight Maine tosses his way, turning it over in his hands a couple of times before catching up to what it is. Let there be light, bro. ]
Thanks! Oh, this'll make navigating much easier! You're certainly the prepared sort, aren't you?
no subject
He doesn't really acknowledge what he says beyond an answering grunt that is just on this side of exasperated. Being here isn't through any fault of theirs, but Maine is still annoyed. This ship needs to get their shit together. After a long, silent deliberation, Maine removes something from one of the pouches on his armor and lifts his hand to the back of his head. Another passing moment and a strong, low voice comes from the communicator clipped to the mag holster on his thigh. ]
You could say that. System failures aren't new to me.
no subject
They're not new to me, either. The ship I'm looking after wasn't particularly well-equipped for so many vital failures at once, though. It's what brought me over here! Hoping to get things back in order. Not that the crew here seems to be faring any better.
[ They'd surely have to have a large selection of engineers hard at work, though, wouldn't they? ]