Manolo Sánchez (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
puro) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-03-05 06:06 pm
puro) wrote in driftfleet2015-03-05 06:06 pm
Entry tags:
001
Who: Manolo and you!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: Today
[The Marsiva is suddenly up one (1) wooden Mexican. One that's looking more than a little disorientated, but it's not due to the sudden change in surroundings. Just a few seconds ago, this guy was dead as a doornail, but not any more. He feels the thudding of his heart in his chest, he draws breath into his lungs for the first time in hours. The gods had held their word, they gave him life. But-
He glances around, finally taking note of his surroundings. After the bright vibrancy of the Land of the Remembered, the spaceship is drab and clinical. There's no wonder in it for him, even if it's no place he could have ever dreamed of before. He puts a hand to his back, his guitar is still there, but both his estoques are gone. Not only is he lost, but he's unarmed, not a good combination. He frowns.]
This isn't San Angel. [This wasn't where he was supposed to be. He can't afford another diversion. His town can't afford one. He needs to get to María, to Joaquín and he needs to get to them now. He glances downwards, raising his voice, panic and frustration seeping in.]
I did everything you asked of me!! We had a deal! You promised!
[He takes in a shuddery breath, his lungs ache from sudden use again, and he realises how tired he is. It's been a really long and exceptionally crappy day and this is the absolute last thing he needs. There's no answer. Not from any of them. Why would they desert him, after everything?]
You promised. Just send me home.
[Ok. Now is not the time to panic. He'll just starting looking for an exit, don't mind him.
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: Today
[The Marsiva is suddenly up one (1) wooden Mexican. One that's looking more than a little disorientated, but it's not due to the sudden change in surroundings. Just a few seconds ago, this guy was dead as a doornail, but not any more. He feels the thudding of his heart in his chest, he draws breath into his lungs for the first time in hours. The gods had held their word, they gave him life. But-
He glances around, finally taking note of his surroundings. After the bright vibrancy of the Land of the Remembered, the spaceship is drab and clinical. There's no wonder in it for him, even if it's no place he could have ever dreamed of before. He puts a hand to his back, his guitar is still there, but both his estoques are gone. Not only is he lost, but he's unarmed, not a good combination. He frowns.]
This isn't San Angel. [This wasn't where he was supposed to be. He can't afford another diversion. His town can't afford one. He needs to get to María, to Joaquín and he needs to get to them now. He glances downwards, raising his voice, panic and frustration seeping in.]
I did everything you asked of me!! We had a deal! You promised!
[He takes in a shuddery breath, his lungs ache from sudden use again, and he realises how tired he is. It's been a really long and exceptionally crappy day and this is the absolute last thing he needs. There's no answer. Not from any of them. Why would they desert him, after everything?]
You promised. Just send me home.
[Ok. Now is not the time to panic. He'll just starting looking for an exit, don't mind him.