There's no use dwelling on "next time". If you're what I'm supposed to work with, then so be it.
[ He was nothing if not completely distrusting of anyone's skills or abilities other than his own, after all. Even if he had no particular skills or abilities to speak of when it came to piloting a ship like this. So far, his understanding is that he's supposed to think... calming thoughts? It's hard to do that when his new companion (if he could even call her that) continuing to make life difficult. ]
You're too talkative for a useless trinket.
[ He reaches towards her, grabbing the orb and securing it the best way he knows how: not with a seat belt, but by holding the damn thing close to him in his own seat. That was apparently the best way to ensure she wouldn't get hurt. He's kind of a control freak. ]
Do you have a name? I get the feeling you wouldn't like "magic green ball".
Oh I am not dwelling, at this point, I am dreading.
[ "Next time" as well as this one. If they are ever forced to cooperate under any less dire circumstances again, she will surely have his head, but for now, they are at least supposed to try and function as a team should they wish to fly this thing to safety. Working with those she has come to loathe is a time-honored tradition back home, but he really is endeavoring to make it as difficult as possible, isn't he. ]
[ Because before she can even formulate a comeback for these grievous potshots, they're getting friendly, apparently. As he thieves the ball to his own lap, the ghost that comes with it settles shoulder to shoulder with him, radiating an unnerving aura of cold against any exposed skin of his. ]
As I get the feeling you would prefer to share a civil silence while we work, and yet you still continue to engage me. [ Scribes give her strength, she steeples her fingers. ] My name is Sandra. Do make up your mind before you give me yours.
Hmm... what would happen if I were to lose you in the depths of space, I wonder...?
[ He says this more to himself than anything. Though clearly an expression of irritation, he cares deeply about protecting others. Even when said others consist of a spirit trapped in an orb that won't stop sassing him.
He thinks he may have just a little more control over maneuvering the ship when the sudden appearance of a humanoid ghost suddenly materializes and makes the air immediately around him extremely cold.
He almost drops her, but instinct means that he's drawing the important object (because yeah, despite their poor impressions on each other, she is considered important and thus to be kept close) even closer. ]
Astrals above! [ He yells in surprise, sending the ship lurching forward for a good five seconds. It feels like an eternity. ]
[ Considering she has no grasp of the depths—ergo consequences—of space, the threat is rather lost on her. She's already floating in unfathomable nothingness, what's one more level on top of that? But before she can express as much, he's screaming his own brand of blasphemy and the ship is lunging forward. She may not be able to see, but she can feel the tilt, sense him reaffirming his hold on her prison ever tighter. ]
[ Look Perc, if you don't want a ghost in your lap maybe leave what it's trapped in alone?? ]
Perhaps you would be able to steer if you had left yourself the use of both hands! Pull up!
[ Truth be told, she has no idea what pull up entails, but it is probably the most frequently cried expression whenever the flying wagon started to pitch like this. She's hardly affected by the force of the maneuver, but where she floats, she does inevitably bump shoulders with the man more than once as he steadies the vessel. And by bump, of course, I mean phase uncomfortably through. ]
What... does that even mean?! Quit speaking nonsense!
[ Percival can barely work the controls here, much less think about what it means to "pull up". Pull up where? To that meteorite coming right at them at breakneck speed? Definitely not.
Though, he has to admit she has a point. Even if this is, in his mind, the best way to secure this strange being and ensure that they land safely, he's given up use of his left hand. Whatever she's made of, her presence is making him feel increasingly uneasy every time she fazes in and out of his proximity.
It's not like the ship's course can get any worse, so he finally takes a moment to set her down on the seat next to his own and strap her down. ]
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sandra - intro log nov 2017
There's no use dwelling on "next time". If you're what I'm supposed to work with, then so be it.
[ He was nothing if not completely distrusting of anyone's skills or abilities other than his own, after all. Even if he had no particular skills or abilities to speak of when it came to piloting a ship like this. So far, his understanding is that he's supposed to think... calming thoughts? It's hard to do that when his new companion (if he could even call her that) continuing to make life difficult. ]
You're too talkative for a useless trinket.
[ He reaches towards her, grabbing the orb and securing it the best way he knows how: not with a seat belt, but by holding the damn thing close to him in his own seat. That was apparently the best way to ensure she wouldn't get hurt. He's kind of a control freak. ]
Do you have a name? I get the feeling you wouldn't like "magic green ball".
no subject
[ "Next time" as well as this one. If they are ever forced to cooperate under any less dire circumstances again, she will surely have his head, but for now, they are at least supposed to try and function as a team should they wish to fly this thing to safety. Working with those she has come to loathe is a time-honored tradition back home, but he really is endeavoring to make it as difficult as possible, isn't he. ]
[ Because before she can even formulate a comeback for these grievous potshots, they're getting friendly, apparently. As he thieves the ball to his own lap, the ghost that comes with it settles shoulder to shoulder with him, radiating an unnerving aura of cold against any exposed skin of his. ]
As I get the feeling you would prefer to share a civil silence while we work, and yet you still continue to engage me. [ Scribes give her strength, she steeples her fingers. ] My name is Sandra. Do make up your mind before you give me yours.
no subject
[ He says this more to himself than anything. Though clearly an expression of irritation, he cares deeply about protecting others. Even when said others consist of a spirit trapped in an orb that won't stop sassing him.
He thinks he may have just a little more control over maneuvering the ship when the sudden appearance of a humanoid ghost suddenly materializes and makes the air immediately around him extremely cold.
He almost drops her, but instinct means that he's drawing the important object (because yeah, despite their poor impressions on each other, she is considered important and thus to be kept close) even closer. ]
Astrals above! [ He yells in surprise, sending the ship lurching forward for a good five seconds. It feels like an eternity. ]
It's Percival, now let me concentrate!
no subject
[ Look Perc, if you don't want a ghost in your lap maybe leave what it's trapped in alone?? ]
Perhaps you would be able to steer if you had left yourself the use of both hands! Pull up!
[ Truth be told, she has no idea what pull up entails, but it is probably the most frequently cried expression whenever the flying wagon started to pitch like this. She's hardly affected by the force of the maneuver, but where she floats, she does inevitably bump shoulders with the man more than once as he steadies the vessel. And by bump, of course, I mean phase uncomfortably through. ]
no subject
[ Percival can barely work the controls here, much less think about what it means to "pull up". Pull up where? To that meteorite coming right at them at breakneck speed? Definitely not.
Though, he has to admit she has a point. Even if this is, in his mind, the best way to secure this strange being and ensure that they land safely, he's given up use of his left hand. Whatever she's made of, her presence is making him feel increasingly uneasy every time she fazes in and out of his proximity.
It's not like the ship's course can get any worse, so he finally takes a moment to set her down on the seat next to his own and strap her down. ]