driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Coil Lenn and any innocent bystander
Broadcast: Audio and video - Fleetwide
Action: Aboard the SS Red Fish
When: Shortly after the Shuffle

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[there were too many new people on his ship; too many unfamiliar faces were making him feel anxious within the halls of what was supposed to be his home. he has been deflating under the pressure of trying to meet them all and keep track of them, wondering where they all fit and wishing that Zhas would just step up and take over like he's supposed to. he just wants to be able to stop worrying about it and get back to work. so, when the skullfaced man continues to make himself suspiciously scarce, Coil finally goes to seek him out... and his search ends in what is supposed to be Zhas' bunk.

for a minute, there is that awful sense of vertigo that comes with wondering if he's somehow gone into the wrong room. but the minutiae left behind--all of the little things that he couldn't possibly care about because none of it adds up to him--is familiar. it's the random remnant of Zhas' things, and a desperate search of the Network quickly confirms his fears.

when it does, something inside of him that still feels recently healed simply breaks apart without effort, and the rest of his crew manages to miss most of what immediately follows. the pacing and clawing and breathing so fast that he almost makes himself sick is quiet enough to go unnoticed. but anyone who happens to be home at the time might notice the eventual banging on the empty bunk walls, and the yell of voice that has never been heard on the ship before.]

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[and, since there is supposedly an eager audience somewhere, hungry for drama, of course the communicator turns on when it crashes into the wall.

so, after the image on the screen bounces around crazily until the device comes to rest in some corner of the room, anyone tuned into this particular frequency can catch the sounds of someone more or less losing their shit. the sobbing sounds of sheer, heartbroken frustration are muffled through something... probably clenched teeth and buried in arms or a pillow... but they're definitely very public.

someone is having the worst day of his recent life.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[by the time he retrieves the device and notices that it's on and broadcasting, he has managed to at least catch his breath, if not calmed down much more than that. his face is still wet and miserable, and the pain becomes a little more visible when he realizes that the person on the screen is familiar and signing.

'gone,' he signs back. it's the only thing he can think to say.]

["Gone" - loss. Grief. That would do it. And, alas, not an uncommon occurrence in the Fleet. In his more suspicious moments, the Vision wonders if it's all for ratings.]

Friend? [And then, assuming the response to that will be affirmative,] Want company? Want alone?

[if this has been done for ratings, there is probably some audience out there avidly wrapped up in the kid's dramatic display of despair.

and he just shrugs, because he doesn't know how to answer. he doesn't know what he wants. he doesn't know where to go from here-- even in trying to decide something so simple.]

[Which only adds insult to injury, doesn't it?

The Vision frowns, looking a bit distracted. Coil hadn't outright rejected company, and he could always leave if things became too uncomfortable for either of them.

I'll come soon.

"Soon" being enough time for him to skip down to the planet real fast and grab a container of hot take-out food from the nearest restaurant; he isn't sure what Coil's tastes are or if he'll even feel like eating, but he feels he ought to do something, and hot food is enough of a luxury item for them that it's at least worthwhile.]

[luck would have it that simple, hearty stews are this world's take-out food of choice. it's warm, filling, and blessedly easy to eat for someone who is lacking most of their tongue.

luck would also have it that Coil's sudden promotion to captain allows him to tell the autopilot to park and just leave the door open. if anyone wants to board the ship, so be it. they can have at it. he doesn't care.]

[It's sensible, given the apparently very sustainable large animal population here. Some stew and freshly-baked bread should at least smell good, whether Coil is in the mood for food or (as is more likely) not.

From the parked ship, it's a simple matter to follow the waves of despair; he'd not be surprised if even the non-powered could see them by now. When he finds its source among the bunks, he raps lightly on the wall to make a noise as greeting, to see if he can get Coil's attention.]

[he's pulled himself together long before any visitors have the chance to find him, so the hallway is silent and still before the hatch to Zhas' old bunk finally swings in.

and Coil only looks up the short ladder long enough to verify who is there before disappearing again--stepping back so the Vision can climb down into the room if he wants.]

[The bunks are small but it doesn't bother him, and he gives Coil as much space as the cramped quarters allow. The hungry? sign only takes one hand, so he holds out the take-out container with the other. For the moment that's all he says, wondering if Coil wants to talk about it or if company is the best thing he can offer at the moment.]

[the vague confusion that he stares at the food with might be the only reason he actually reaches out to accept the offer. and even then, he mostly just looks at the container like he's not sure what he's supposed to be doing with it.

he's not the best at accepting help. this isn't exactly something he has much experience with, and he doesn't know what he wants either.]

[Ah, that's some top tier despair right there. If Coil gave off any kind of vibe that would suggest he wouldn't react poorly to being touched he might offer a hug, but his mannerisms suggest he's a no-touchie kind of guy. The warmth from the stew will help, though, even if Coil only holds it for now.]

I'm sorry. Anything I can get for you?

[yeah, even standing there in the same room with someone, holding a gesture of goodwill in his hands, is a little much for him. it's just about the amount of intrusive niceness that he can handle--gaining a little bit of comfort from it without being overwhelmed.

he works his fingers around the container, fidgeting a little, before shaking his head.

there's only one thing he can think of that he wants right now, and he can't have it back.]

[That's fine, really. At least the Vision can provide that much, so he nods. He doesn't leave yet, though, curious to see if Coil will actually start eating or not.]

Tell me if you think of something you need later. Please?

[with his handicap, eating is never an easy task. it's going to take him some time to settle enough for that, probably.

so, he doesn't dig into the container now, but he does nod. whether he has any intention of actually taking up the offer or not, he at least agrees.]

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