driftfleet | 003 || video

Who: Jon Snow and you!
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: Three Twins.
When: June 1st

[When the feed opens, the first thing seen is an empty bed. It's been slept in somewhat recently, you can see the mess the owner's left it in, but the owner himself is nowhere in sight--at least until someone picks the communicator up.

Congrats, folks, it's a new month and one of the first things you get to see is Jon Snow's deeply annoyed frown, framed by a shot of the--ceiling?]

And here I thought this fleet couldn't surprise me anymore. [From his exasperated tone, it's probably immediately obvious just what he thinks about this little surprise.] I hadn't been told anything like this would happen. Does it usually?

[And he turns the camera down towards his feet, which, currently, are floating a few feet off the ground. He pulls the camera back up towards his face, which is wearing an expression of utter annoyance.]

And when can I get back down?

[The feed ends right there, but curious souls can find Jon floating grumpily or trying to ineffectually steer himself along the corridors of the Three Twins! Looks like he's just gotten his first taste of an augment malfunction, and it's just made him immune to the ship's gravity drive.

What a lucky bastard.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Oh, good, his augment's malfunctioning. At least he now knows what's going on, even if he doesn't have the first idea where to start, and he's not about to try and figure out how to fix something that's implanted in his head.]

I'm told most people don't start floating when their augments malfunction. [Ugh.] Do you know how long these augments usually malfunction?

No, I feel well enough. Besides not being able to get down, anyway.

[Tyrion started flipping through his journal again.]

Well, it can be a number of different things - you could have been de-aged. [Another page flip.]...Er, they can last up to two weeks, from what I have been able to gather.

[One corner of his mouth lifted, before he looked thoughtful.] Magnetic boots?

So I should count myself lucky I'm only floating.

[Good, because he would much rather be floating than be a sulky, green little fourteen-year-old again. He's already passed that stage, no thanks.]

Someone's said as much, something about them coming with space suits already in the ship. [Space suits, gods.] I'll go look for them. I'm not going to spend two weeks like this.

[He won't, it'll wear off when the day's done, but he doesn't know that just yet.]

Considering everything else that I have heard? ... Yes. Quite.

[Tyrion closes his book, giving Jon a faintly amused look.]

Might be the wisest plan. Let me know if you need me to run off and find one for you.

[Well, hobble, at any rate.]

No, I think I can find one by myself. [A pause, then:] I'd ask you not to tell my siblings about this, but Robb's already seen it, so.

[He's never going to live this down. Ever. Ever.]

I shall keep my own amusement to the bare minimum, considering your current, ah predicament. You shall have enough jibes to handle. I'll offer you a drink, though, when you are free from the mockery.

Thank you for that much. [It's sincere enough, it's just couched in a dry, deeply resigned tone.] I think I'll take you up on the offer once I can walk on solid ground again.

[Ah Jon, how do you get yourself into these situations. Tyrion's smile is nothing but fond for his friend.] I shall be pleased to have you take me up on it, ser.

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