[The ship, at least, was something moderately familiar. Closed spaces, kidnappings with contracts that felt less like the chance of a lifetime and more like the losing side of a legal agreement. Wasn't quite like the Shop, but it was damn close. And he was expected to find himself a job, like he had any kind of marketable skills that weren't trying to get high school kids to appreciate books, being a class A bullshit artist, or screwing around with the inside of people's heads hard enough to make his own brain pop. So what else could he do? He wandered around the ship, trying to keep to himself because he'd spent entirely too long trying not to be noticed that it was pretty much ingrained behavior by now. Yes, he was technically supposed to be here, was practically invited, but there's a world of difference between accepting a position because you feel like your back's to the wall and actually feeling comfortable in the place.
So he steals food he's perfectly entitled to. Keeps to the edges of the room, where he can keep an eye on everyone else and has an exit plan mapped out perfectly in his head. He lurks in the gardens and the library, because they're at least familiar and some level of comforting among the stark, institutional white of the hallways that pretty much gave him the creeps from the moment he stepped onto the ship. He leaves his MID in the room, because he honestly doesn't trust it, and can occasionally be found at the bow, literally staring into space.
It's really cool, he'll admit that. He's in space, it's pretty awe-inspiring. He just needs a little time to settle in properly so he stops perpetually getting distracted looking over his shoulder all the time.]
Breathing Sparks
[Andy doesn't like the respirator. It feels confining, like it's strangling him even as it's helping him breathe, but if he wants the extra space and to not climb the walls, it's what he needs to drag along. He'll deal with it.
The view is worth it, even if it pulls at the perpetual alarm bells in his head. It's definitely something else, like a dozen active volcanoes from earth all jumbled together into a whole world, and his curiosity gets the better of him, that same 'well what's the worst that could happen?' attitude that got him into trouble in the first place. So he scrambles down the makeshift steps, even as the air clings tighter, more oppressive, out of the need to stretch his legs and explore a little, here where he's actually out of Their reach finally, maybe.
He manages to pry one of the heated gems loose, and marvels over its heat until he fumbles it when he turns it in his hands, dropping it to the ground, amongst others of its ilk, and then he's running from lava because of course nothing ever goes right.]
Under Pressure
[There are diamonds.
There are diamonds literally everywhere he walks, and Andy is at once surprised and impressed. His particular level of nerd-dom has always extended more towards the literary rather than the scientific, but that doesn't make the development any less impressive, particularly when any kind of material wealth was fleeting for the longest time. So he scoops up the glinting shards when he finds them, between marveling at the rest of it, stuffs them in his pockets like a goblin out of a fairy tale, because maybe they're not much use on the ship but maybe they will be back home.]
Andy McGee | Firestarter (novel)
[The ship, at least, was something moderately familiar. Closed spaces, kidnappings with contracts that felt less like the chance of a lifetime and more like the losing side of a legal agreement. Wasn't quite like the Shop, but it was damn close. And he was expected to find himself a job, like he had any kind of marketable skills that weren't trying to get high school kids to appreciate books, being a class A bullshit artist, or screwing around with the inside of people's heads hard enough to make his own brain pop. So what else could he do? He wandered around the ship, trying to keep to himself because he'd spent entirely too long trying not to be noticed that it was pretty much ingrained behavior by now. Yes, he was technically supposed to be here, was practically invited, but there's a world of difference between accepting a position because you feel like your back's to the wall and actually feeling comfortable in the place.
So he steals food he's perfectly entitled to. Keeps to the edges of the room, where he can keep an eye on everyone else and has an exit plan mapped out perfectly in his head. He lurks in the gardens and the library, because they're at least familiar and some level of comforting among the stark, institutional white of the hallways that pretty much gave him the creeps from the moment he stepped onto the ship. He leaves his MID in the room, because he honestly doesn't trust it, and can occasionally be found at the bow, literally staring into space.
It's really cool, he'll admit that. He's in space, it's pretty awe-inspiring. He just needs a little time to settle in properly so he stops perpetually getting distracted looking over his shoulder all the time.]
Breathing Sparks
[Andy doesn't like the respirator. It feels confining, like it's strangling him even as it's helping him breathe, but if he wants the extra space and to not climb the walls, it's what he needs to drag along. He'll deal with it.
The view is worth it, even if it pulls at the perpetual alarm bells in his head. It's definitely something else, like a dozen active volcanoes from earth all jumbled together into a whole world, and his curiosity gets the better of him, that same 'well what's the worst that could happen?' attitude that got him into trouble in the first place. So he scrambles down the makeshift steps, even as the air clings tighter, more oppressive, out of the need to stretch his legs and explore a little, here where he's actually out of Their reach finally, maybe.
He manages to pry one of the heated gems loose, and marvels over its heat until he fumbles it when he turns it in his hands, dropping it to the ground, amongst others of its ilk, and then he's running from lava because of course nothing ever goes right.]
Under Pressure
[There are diamonds.
There are diamonds literally everywhere he walks, and Andy is at once surprised and impressed. His particular level of nerd-dom has always extended more towards the literary rather than the scientific, but that doesn't make the development any less impressive, particularly when any kind of material wealth was fleeting for the longest time. So he scoops up the glinting shards when he finds them, between marveling at the rest of it, stuffs them in his pockets like a goblin out of a fairy tale, because maybe they're not much use on the ship but maybe they will be back home.]