driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: The new weirdo on the Marsiva
Broadcast: Network-- fleet-wide
Action: Aboard the Marisva!
When: Oct. 22, nighttime

→ [network - audio, then video, and then text]

[at first, there's just the sound of someone fiddling with the buttons on some network station. technology is difficult, okay.

then, the camera turns on, and everyone watching will be treated to the sight of a raggedy, scarred-up teenager blinking in surprise at the screen. or... maybe it's not technically considered blinking, because he only has one eye.

he frowns hard when he realizes that he's turned the video on. that's not what he was aiming for. a second later, the video cuts off... and several seconds after that, a text transmission is sent out.]

hello.

→ [action - aboard the Marsiva]

[for anyone awake this late on the Marsiva--or awoken by the sound of someone angrily messing around with the buttons at a nearby network station--they can find this guy failing at technology.

I'm sure he's very friendly. you should say hi.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[he shakes his head, but turns around and moves his hair out of the way, so the camera can see the bit of white plastic sticking out of his skull near his ear.

does this count?]

[he looks... well, he always looks angry, but the sight of white plastic fills him with enough unease to show on his face. he hates those things. he's mad that Coil got one he can see. his answer to the unspoken question is to wobble his hand--so-so, pros and cons.]

'It teaches you things. Nothing bad has happened yet.'

[he's so anxious, and bringing his attention to the device has him fidgeting with it. fingers neurotically running over the shape of it while he returns to facing the screen.

his eyes are off to the side. he's upset and probably has a lot of things he wants to say and ask, but communication is not exactly his strong suit. it's all running together in his head. it's too much.

he doesn't know what to say.]

[he lets him be anxious, for a moment, before he taps on the control panel with his knuckles. as soon as he can get his attention again, he signs something new.]

'Your phone has a number on it. What is it?'

[he's better at typing numbers than words, so give him a minute and he can punch that in and send it]

[good. he's quiet for a moment while he gets his own device, saves the channel, and sends him a text message. it's only got a + in it, but Coil should have the return number. when Coil's looking, he signs again.]

'That's mine. Talking here is public. Talking on the small ones is better.'

[it's progress. and that stabilizes him a little. it doesn't fix anything, but it's a step in some direction that feels like progress.

he nods, and sends a + back in return. just... because?]

[he gets it. seeing the little + makes him feel better too.

he tries to think of something else to keep them talking beyond that, but... there's not much. Zhas thinks they've only been apart for a couple of weeks. the emotional outburst seems strangely weighted, but he doesn't want to inquire yet.

he thinks of bringing up her, but the very notion sends a shiver down his spine, because he's been having so much trouble keeping a solid hold on what she looks like or what her name is or why he needed to get back to her so badly when he knows there was something...

moments later, he lifts his hands. might as well.]

'What were you saying before?'

[oh, he... looks embarrassed now that he's calmed down somewhat.

his gazes dodges away from the camera while he sifts through all the messy things he'd started to babble, for something more concrete and important than the rest]

'How do we go home?'

[yeah... that one's a problem. Coil can hear him sigh, softly, on his end of things.]

'I don't know yet. Working on it.'

[and that opens up a whole mess of questions. now that he's not an isolated instance (hunkered down and waiting for prey), things get complicated again.]

'How long was I gone?'

[...he must have read that one wrong.

he looks confused, before he motions for Zhas to repeat himself]

[...he doesn't get what's so confusing, but he obliges, tries to clarify.]

'I have been here for two weeks. Was I gone that long at home?'

[he shakes his head, waves his hand. this is all wrong.

really trying hard not to get frantic again, but the cracks are already showing.]

'I have not been home'

[but that's... where could he have been? this is important.]

'What happened?'

[it starts to get hard to follow as he gets upset again. he's taking shortcuts in what he's saying, probably jumping around.

sorry is prominent in there, though. he'd tried, but he'd been trapped. he couldn't get back.]

[he interrupts--claps his hands loudly to startle him into paying attention. he would have done it right next to his ear, if he could. his signing is still slow and patient.]

'You are not in trouble. Go slow.'

[it works as it always does, with the speakers turning the sound into an extra sharp pop. he flinches a little, but obeys. taking a deeper breath before he tries again.]

'I have not been home since I left.'

[and then comes whatever isolated words he can think of that might convey his confusion. he doesn't understand what's going on.

he can only think of one thing to say after that, and it's hard to struggle through the signs.]

'It's been a long time.'

'How long?'

[that's the only question he can ask. now that he thinks about it, does Coil look different, at all? a little older? eyes sunk deeper, new scars? or is he just imagining it?]

[he has to think about it, his eye skirting around while he tries to count or quantify, thinking back.

it's seemed like so long.

eventually, he gives up on specifics and just gives the single sign for year.]

[but that's--impossible?

he lives in a world full of ghouls and ghosts and creatures that can survive for an eternity, but he still has the gall to get mad and disbelieve the idea of Coil somehow living a whole hidden year away from him. impossible is the word that keeps stumbling around in his head; it almost makes it out of his mouth, it's so rhythmic and persistent.

but Coil's not a liar. not to him. not about this. he runs his hand over the back of his neck, thinking, trying to figure out how to ask everything he wants to know, but... eventually his hands come up again. very simple.]

'Where?'

[he signs 'tower', but it mostly turns into a hanging, wandering moment while he tries to think of how to better describe it. something more helpful. but there had been so much and he'd spent that whole time trying to make sense of it and failing.

ultimately, it's the helpless shrug that really conveys anything. just looking utterly lost over it.]

[it doesn't clear up much; he thinks of the tarot card and the fairy tale symbol and the image of a lighthouse comes to mind, but neither of them fit easily. there's not enough framework. he wants to ask for more, but... he shakes his head.]

'We will talk later. You can explain when we are together. You have time.'

[to further cement this, he adds:] 'I am not going anywhere.'