Communications Officer Doug Eiffel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
littletonoidea) wrote2022-03-02 01:29 am
littletonoidea) wrote2022-03-02 01:29 am
IC Inbox
"This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel of the-- previously of the U.S.S Hephaestus, leave a message and I'll see if I can bear to drag myself away from whatever utterly engaging task I must be doing to not notice my comms--"
BZZZZZZZ
Action | Text | Voice | Video
The crunch just makes it tastier
[It's not aggressive, or even whiny. It's just a simple, firm correction.
Then he does a different thing with his face: a firm press that starts in one corner of his mouth and rolls into a pout as he considers sharing his feelings, and finally he folds his arms over his chest, so he's drifting gently loose in midair.]
And yeah, my face did a thing. It's called being disappointed. I'm not sure how much practice you've gotten with that back in St Petersburg, Romanov, but for the rest of the protaletariat it's a depressingly common feeling. And this was a big dog's barf on my bacon and eggs.
[He sighs, long and hard, and brushes his curls out of his face with one hand.]
...you know I came here from the U.S.S. In Space Nobody Can Hear You Scream, right? Not the Hephaestus. I got stuck on a shitty little emergency vehicle that got ejected by a functioning dead man's switch on a faulty captain, and I got sent off on a whirlwind adventure to the far corners of the galaxy. Alone.
[His drifting rolls him towards the window, and he cranes his neck to look at the bright red light.]
I lost contact with everyone in like, thirty seconds. I got stuck out there for three months.
cw mentions of possible attempted suicide
So instead, he listens. To his credit, he lasts a few moments actually looking Eiffel in the eye before he feels too uncomfortable and settles for concentrating on the other's unruly blond curls instead.
He doesn't know shit about space, but there's something he does know about: loneliness and isolation. Not physically, not on the other's level, but the feeling of being trapped with only yourself rings true, just a little bit. Even if Eiffel's is clearly a more drastic situation. ]
Yeah, but like... [ He's digging for something positive or reassuring. Anything. He can't pick at his nails and he can't use his hand to tug on his ear, both his go-to nervous ticks, so he settles on gnawing at his lip. ] ...You made it out, right?
[ Three months. The span of time looms over the entire conversation, heavy in its weight. ]
no subject
...not right away. When I go back after I'm done here, it'll be back in deep space. I won't get rescued by Kepler and Jacobi for another week or so. My water's gonna run out first.
[And he's gonna short-circuit half of the remaining electronics left when he tries to run cryo without it.]
But I only learned that after I got here. I thought I was gonna die out there. 'cos even when I did my best, it just... wasn't good enough.
[Not that Eiffel is good at recognising his strengths. That he lasted three months, on a single month's worth of rations and a thousand litres of water on a broken ship that couldn't even steer, hurtling some seventeen thousand clicks an hour into No Man's Void. That he still managed to make something in an impossible, losing situation. That against all odds, despite everything, it will end up working.
All he can see is how he fucked up.]
no subject
It's kind of weird, hearing someone narrate their slow descent into hopelessness. Roman's face is pinched, and his gaze slides off of Eiffel's face altogether, shrugging, making a small noncommittal noise. ]
Well... [ He shrugs again, a rapid up-down-up of his shoulders and after a brief moment of contemplation he carefully lets go and lets himself float. ]
Yeah, sure, I mean, that sucks.
[ 'I'm all apart,' Kendall had said in Italy at their mother's wedding, weeping, sobbing, admitting his darkest secret as Roman and Siobhan listened. Roman had tried desperately to summon up anything he could, something to alleviate the situation. Focus on the tiny, tiny parts Kendall's story that show some sort of hope, or heroicism, or even just some levity. Roman clears his throat and tries that with Eiffel. ]
I don't know shit about space. I tried to accelerate the launch of one of our satellites so it could coincide with my sister's wedding, like it would be fireworks? And uh. Well. No one died, so win for me, I guess, but, um...
[ It's weird, floating, but it's strangely freeing. Roman tries his best to get as level as he can with Eiffel, even if he can't look him in the eye. ]
I'm just saying you got further than I would. Probably, like, most people. You're an idiot, but you're pretty fucking smart, I think. I'd bet my entire family fortune on the fact that because it was you in there doing shit, Captain Kirking with your big dick swinging around or whatever, that's why you made it. Are going to make it. Not luck or chance. But you.
no subject
Maybe. Maybe he's onto something.
But.]
I started hearing voices when I was out there.
[Which. Isn't what he meant to say, and he looks away quickly, startled by his own admission. But- well, he's here now.]
Not like- going full cuckoo clock, just. I work best when I talk to people, I guess. So, when I don't have any other people, I just. Talk to myself. You should hear some of my logs, it's hours of stupid arguments with commanding officers me, myself and I.
[He lifts his free hand and scratches his stubble awkwardly.]
So, uh. Yeah. When I started panicking, I heard the Commander, she always has a cool head so she sorta helped me do inventory, see what I had that I could use, what wouldn't kill me to ignore, make the most outta what I did have. The captain talked me down from the ledge, showed me... the kind of crap you know you have to do, even if it really fucking sucks, to survive, you gotta do it. So off I went to Popsicle Town, population yours truly.
[He takes a breath, and sighs it out through his nose.]
no subject
[ Roman figures it's a decent question to ask in addition to sating his incredible curiousity.
This is weird. It's weird, but it's not exactly unpleasant. It's just... weird. Roman's not only giving a shit about someone that isn't a family member, but he's actively listening. Asking questions. It's not a business deal, there's absolutely nothing to gain from it, he doesn't need blackmail, it's just.... This. Listening to someone's problems and caring.
But shit, maybe he does care and cares a little too much, because the thought of anyone going full Kubrickian is terrifying, but the fact that Eiffel's gone through it, and picturing him that desperate and alone? That's a different level. He shivers, but keeps his eyes trained on the messy haired communications officer. ]
no subject
His lips just press a bit as he turns his face away, and takes a long, quiet breath.
Eventually, he turns back to Roman, and the soft smile has managed to resurrect on his face.]
Come on. I still want you to meet her. We're just gonna have to do it the old fashioned way - horrible invasions of privacy and tape recordings!
[He pushes off the window, grabbing the ceiling instead.]
Follow me! And- try not to overthink the whole anti-gravity centipede dilemma, just pretend it's a horrible swim where kicking doesn't work.
no subject
It takes a lot of mental power to shove the initial, knee-jerk reaction aside. He has to cover his mouth with his hand to do it, to hide the triumphant smile that ticked up immediately. Once his face settles he follows the other. ]
Thinking in general isn't exactly something I do. [ It's an assurance at his own expense, doing his best to follow Eiffel. His movement is a lot less smooth and practiced, but he's a semi-quick learner. ]
I'm a gut-reaction guy. You know? Something needs to get done, you gotta attack it head on. Now lets go invade your privacy like it's watergate.