[ it's frustrating because it leaves little room for argument, but nodd, the anti-white collar worker, immediately wants to bite the red tape to scraps. ]
What's the worst thing that happens if we just do a little detour to drop Dahut and Scien's bodies off at their homeworld? Explain it to me like I come from a planet where we're all really excited that we just got a train.
Trains... those are not so reliable where I am from...
[ they figured the answers were more important to you. ]
We have a navigator, sure, they're meant to make certain we make it to where we must go along this route. They are not responsible for completely shifting the coordinates of the ship and turning us right around. That comes from up top.
[ a tired lean into the hip, and frustrated hum that the helmet doesn't know how to autotune. ]
We don't... we can't turn it around. Physically I mean. No buttons, no levers, no magic. That's locked to us. Our route comes from the top, we're just here to deliver the packages. Should they change our route, then we are happy to take you there.
I hate [ abruptly there's a flash across the visor, a sharp pinch of light that then blacks out. they touch their head briefly... my answer as much as you do...
[ the thing is, he listens. actually listens. fun as it would be to fidget or turn away, to give io the impression he doesn't care what they say, it's better to absorb. to give them a modicum of respect in return for the information.
then that light? a glitch? ]
Are you all right? Your screen-face.
[ reaching out but his hand hovers. not sure if it's wise to touch helmet. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
What's the worst thing that happens if we just do a little detour to drop Dahut and Scien's bodies off at their homeworld? Explain it to me like I come from a planet where we're all really excited that we just got a train.
[ also, no comment on the chain? noted. ]
no subject
[ they figured the answers were more important to you. ]
We have a navigator, sure, they're meant to make certain we make it to where we must go along this route. They are not responsible for completely shifting the coordinates of the ship and turning us right around. That comes from up top.
[ a tired lean into the hip, and frustrated hum that the helmet doesn't know how to autotune. ]
We don't... we can't turn it around. Physically I mean. No buttons, no levers, no magic. That's locked to us. Our route comes from the top, we're just here to deliver the packages. Should they change our route, then we are happy to take you there.
I hate [ abruptly there's a flash across the visor, a sharp pinch of light that then blacks out. they touch their head briefly... my answer as much as you do...
no subject
then that light? a glitch? ]
Are you all right? Your screen-face.
[ reaching out but his hand hovers. not sure if it's wise to touch helmet. ]
no subject
... It's fine. Just acting up. Been a busy week...
[ touching the side of their helmet they just take a moment before their hand lowers once more. ]
... Chain looks fine.
no subject
this timehe respects no-touchy. ]Who docs the doctor, huh?
[ peering at, though. ]
Thanks.
no subject
Nobody, that's how it works.
[ a huff... but then a nod ]
Sure. Glad you're making good use of the place... anyways.
no subject
[ this time, yes touch, but only to pat the sweater io tossed over their shoulder before approaching. ]
I appreciate the answers.
no subject
We're trying to find them...
Now. Don't go losing too much of your blood out there.