nysalogs | the sky was made of amethyst ( & open )

[ He gives her a lopsided smile at the refill. Thanks. ]

It'd be alright, possibly for months, or longer. It's a huge facility and it's engineered well. But you never know with sudden stresses - the safety of the people in stasis is a priority.

[ Jim's not going to tell her why it's in low-power mode. Not yet. It's one of those details he and the others who've been working on the repairs and overall mystery have mutually decided not to let out for as long as they can stall it, in case of panic. ]

But we also have a moral conundrum about it.

Moral conundrum?

[She asks, but she has a feeling she knows. Claire frowns as she adds a bit more to her own drink, the glass bottle clinking gently on the floor when she sets it down.]

[ Jim spreads his hands. ] If something truly horrific happens down here, necessitating the use of Thesa as a sanctuary, do we leave the natives to die?

[ Probably, she saw that one coming. But still. It's something they have to think about, in the harshest terms. ]

Us or them.

[She figured, but it's still not any easier to hear. Claire sighs, crossing one leg over the other so she can rest her elbow on her knee as she hunches over some in thought.]

There's so many people here that... even if Thesa was in good shape, it'd be difficult, wouldn't it?

It would. [ While this is only an island chain's worth of people, it's still dwarfing the residential capacity of Thesa; maybe they could get a sizable portion of people, but maybe not. And if they power the whole thing up, what about the unknown variable that's lurking out there, spooking the Natha themselves..? ]

The logistics alone would be a nightmare. No one knows of its existence, they think we're all backwater weirdos from some far-off village, not extra-dimensional visitors whose home base is high-tech space station masquerading as their moon. And yet abandoning them is unthinkable.

So, if the station isn't an option, we have to look on the ground. There's a whole world out there.

[Maaaaaybe not one free from a dragon, but perhaps their scaly, potentially furious friend would be content with this side of it.]

Not that moving that number of people anywhere would be easy. There are always those that simply refuse to leave their homes.

It'll be an option. Just not for everyone.

[ Telling all the refugees not to go to Thesa isn't going to fly any more than exposing all the natives to the truth. ]

I'm hoping that this is an eventuality we won't ever face. I feel optimistic about it, since everyone seems - motivated, I guess, I can't say competent because I don't know all of them. Halfway competent, I suppose.

[ 76 at least appears to know what he's doing. ]

Deciding who gets to go where won't be easy, if it comes to it.

[Just the thought makes her uneasy, and she shifts her weight again, switching which leg is crossed on top of the other.]

I hear people want to... try talking to this dragon, hopefully, before any damage occurs. I don't know how that will go, but if it avoids us having to come to these bridges, well. I'm all for it.

Oh. [ Seeming to think of something, Jim balances the glass on the bend of his knee - which looks somewhat alarming, even though he manages it with the well-practiced skill of a serial multitasker - so that he can dig out his phone. Network device. Universal jamjar thingy. Whatever. He pulls up a photo and shows it to her: text from a book, the end of a story about a dragon. The key highlighted passage is, allegedly, the last words of Ysverai.

Specifically, that closing line, 'Your hearts will fill with greed and malice the moment my own stops beating. Take care in the Eye of the Storm. Find strength in one another, before it is too late.' ]

The people in Khalo Village fully believe the dragon was a sentient, noble figure whose death was a deliberate sacrifice versus a defeat in battle.

It also mentions the Storm, which is pretty weird.

[At least if he drops his drink there's nothing to be lost, really. The place is still in need of a good scrub. Some alcohol on the floor might be a help, actually...

Any concern over a spill is replaced with curiosity as he shows her that photo of text. Claire reaches out to take it--her eyesight isn't great, thanks--and softly reads the words aloud. No need to worry about her accidentally swiping through his pictures, because she's handing it back the moment she's done, frowning.]

Storms and floods are common imagery, I'd say, but it's a bit too much of a coincidence considering our situation. Do you give this story much credit?

I sincerely hope, [ he says as he slips the device back into a pocket and takes hold of his cup before it goes flying, ] that every word is true.

[ Sounds a little too convenient, though, suggests his tone. ]

This was an old volume in the library in Khalo, I spent.. I dunno, too much time in there, probably. [ Like, days. It was pleasant and he was stoned as fuck. ] The newer ones were partially about refugees, and mostly fictitious. Like tabloid gossip accounts, with the occasional strange, accurate detail. What do you think? You've been here longer than I have.

[Needless to say, because of her constant watch over Theon, she missed the trip to Khalo and likely won't be straying far from Olympia anytime soon. And now, with her own clinic? There will have to be a very good reason for her to stray.]

I think it'd be nice if this dragon was willing to listen to reason and not wipe us off the bloody map. And I suppose that means we'll have to do some listening, too.

[Time for another drink.]

Hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

[ Please bail if a dragon destroys Olympia, Claire. ]

I'd rather listen than fight it. Surely we've got somebody stashed in the refugee pool who knows how to talk to dragons, we've got everything else.

[Probably. No promises.]

I've a friend who has the title of mother of dragons, but she's not a dragon and I don't know how well she knows how to speak to them.

[Claire makes a bit of a face--Daenerys is a remarkable young woman, but she's also a woman that considers her dragons to be her children. But that might be a good thing, in this case.]

[ His eyebrows go up. (He'll never have the eyebrow game of his peers.) ]

You could always ask her. Want me to forward you that picture?

[ Couldn't hurt. Jim knows he won't be able to juggle being involved with the dirtside mission and keep an eye on the station, but he can't completely squash the instinct to workworkwork on everything. ]

No harm in trying. Go on.

[She has to help where she can, even if it's simply showing that page to Daenerys and preparing her to perhaps have a chat with a revived dragon.]

At this rate we're going to need another bottle.

[Or at her rate??? She takes another drink.]

[ This time when he gets his phone back out, he leaves his glass held precariously with one curved edge of the rim between his teeth. He looks like a moron. Anyway, it only takes a few seconds to send it and drop the glass into his hand. Boop. ]

Hey, doctors can't get drunk on the job. What if someone walks in with a missing head?

[A moron, but one with enough boyish charm and in Claire's good graces. So, he can do all the dumb things he'd like.

Within reason.]

Then I can't possibly make their day any worse, can I?

You've got a point, [ he laughs. ]

I met my best friend when he was mostly drunk and screaming on a transport full of straight-laced cadets, [ Jim says. ] His first words to me personally were a bracing warning about the very real possibility of puking on me. A week later I find out he's this medical genius with a dozen areas of study, and has developed a neural grafting brain surgery technique.

[ Drunk doctors are his favorite, is what that translates to. ]

Maybe somebody'll drop in someday with magic head-re-attachment tape.

So what you're saying is that you happen to find a certain type wherever you go.

[She wouldn't ever say she drinks so much as to get drunk, not these days, but she's amused all the same. There's a reasons doctors like their alcohol.

Another drink, and she considers:]

Tape sounds easy enough to apply a few drinks in.

It might be the 'career humanitarian' thing that does it, versus the 'gravitating to liquor' thing, but who knows.

[ lbr it's both. Even though Jim doesn't put it away like he used to; you'd think he'd be back into more drinking here, 'off work' as he is, but he's become somewhat wary of the odd influences cocktails in Wyver can have. ]

Yeah just.. [ hand gesture. Miming this. ] Balance it on there good enough, it'll be fine.

Ah, that does sound better.

[Birds of a feather flock together and all that. Most of her friends here are the heroic types--soldiers, knights, and the like. There's a sort of universal understanding, she thinks, between people willing to put others first.

Claire laughs. Not a common sound these days, and she shakes her head.]

That's how you don't get patients at your clinic.

[ Surely it was the gravitation to liquor between him and Bones, at the time - Jim being the only guy on the transport who'd speak to the raving lunatic, and the raving lunatic being the only guy on the transport who'd speak to some hungover asshole with blood and his shirt and his face still bruised.

(Then again, they were on a transport to enlist in Starfleet. Maybe the difference is split.) ]

I really do hope you don't have any severed head patients, though, [ he chuckles. ] That's a rough day for said severed head.

Not to mention a rough day for me.

[Thankfully (?) the worst bodily trauma she's had to deal with was her own skin falling off. Thanks, kidnappers. It's a memory she doesn't often revisit save for the occasional nightmare.]

This is a ridiculous conversation.

That'll happen sometimes, [ he says, shaking his cup a little like it's dancing. He's not buzzed - relaxed, more like. It's nice to see Claire relaxed, too, especially with the weight she's got on her shoulders with her looking after the person she's taken in under her wing.

Soon, Jim'll have to be on his way, but this is a nice detour. ]

the sky was made of amethyst ( & open )

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