Coil has no idea why he's here--again--he doesn't know where Zhas is, he doesn't know how any of this is even possible or how much time has actually passed between any of these stupid windows of reality that he has been pulled through over the years. In this moment, all he knows for sure is that he had finally returned home after all of it, he had remembered everything that had happened, and hadn't expected any of those ghosts to ever come back.
Of course he'd been overjoyed and relieved to be back where he belonged after so much otherworldly confusion and torment. It'd been all he'd wanted for years. There's always a trade-off, though. He'd reclaimed his family, but he'd left behind someone else who he'd wished very hard that he'd been able to forget.
Carl's words might be clingy and lame, but hearing them causes Coil to pull in a bigger breath, stretching his ribs with it, and it sounds shuddery on the way back out. His fingers tighten against fabric for a moment. The sentiment is very much returned.
Carl gives Coil a firm squeeze before dropping his arms, but he'll linger a little closer in case his friend needs a minute. He takes the time to look around where they're at- nondescript hallways in as much a state of neglect as the rest of the ship but more untouched. Like a time capsule that's just been opened. It doesn't make sense why they're both here again, even less so because they'd gone somewhere else after this.
There's a big gap of nothing in his memory between Havenwell and now that he really doesn't want to think about. The memories aren't a seamless transition from one to the next, but in the here and now, he can push it to the back of his mind. His relief at seeing Coil again is overwhelming, making his chest feel tight.
As soon as Carl's arms fall away from him, Coil pulls back into his own space enough to quickly drag his sleeve across his eye and shake his head. He doesn't know. But, that's a kneejerk answer. Give him a second for another steadying breath and he'll work on putting actual thought toward it.
First thing--he glances back toward the vacant room he'd just stepped out of. The communication panel he'd sent his message from looks a little more elaborate than the one in the Hospitality Deck, but it's still only barely functional. So, he turns back to Carl. He still looks shaky and deeply rattled, but being forced to put his mind toward selecting what signs to use always helps to level him out.
In this case, he opts for the most minimal way possible to get his thought across. When he brings up his hand to sign, it's immediately clear that his knuckles are bleeding and already beginning to swell, so he slowly spells out 'p-a-n-e-l' and gestures toward Carl. Maybe wherever Carl had messaged from had been better?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
postocular) wrote2017-05-28 09:53 pm
no subject
Of course he'd been overjoyed and relieved to be back where he belonged after so much otherworldly confusion and torment. It'd been all he'd wanted for years. There's always a trade-off, though. He'd reclaimed his family, but he'd left behind someone else who he'd wished very hard that he'd been able to forget.
Carl's words might be clingy and lame, but hearing them causes Coil to pull in a bigger breath, stretching his ribs with it, and it sounds shuddery on the way back out. His fingers tighten against fabric for a moment. The sentiment is very much returned.
no subject
There's a big gap of nothing in his memory between Havenwell and now that he really doesn't want to think about. The memories aren't a seamless transition from one to the next, but in the here and now, he can push it to the back of his mind. His relief at seeing Coil again is overwhelming, making his chest feel tight.
"So how do we check on the rest of the Fleet?"
no subject
First thing--he glances back toward the vacant room he'd just stepped out of. The communication panel he'd sent his message from looks a little more elaborate than the one in the Hospitality Deck, but it's still only barely functional. So, he turns back to Carl. He still looks shaky and deeply rattled, but being forced to put his mind toward selecting what signs to use always helps to level him out.
In this case, he opts for the most minimal way possible to get his thought across. When he brings up his hand to sign, it's immediately clear that his knuckles are bleeding and already beginning to swell, so he slowly spells out 'p-a-n-e-l' and gestures toward Carl. Maybe wherever Carl had messaged from had been better?