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Oct. 31st, 2020 11:12 pmWhen Jim shows up, he's in one of the corridors on the Rocinante, boots muddied, wind-whipped hair, eyes bloodshot with fatigue, dark circles underneath.
He stops dead. Wavering on his feet. Staring dully at what's in front of him like it can't be.
Slowly, his mind processes a somewhat-suppressed memory of a conversation with an ineffable being that runs a boat in space full of prisoners.
"Jesus fucking Christ.
"Jesus fucking Christ."
Somewhere in his exhausted brain and body, he reaches a reserve of adrenaline not yet depleted, and he takes the few steps to what-was-formerly-the-airlock-door at a run. Slams his hand into the release, and it opens onto the hallways of the Barge.
Like he knew it would.
Time seems to do a weird sort of skip, because suddenly his face is on the ground and he's not standing up anymore. And his vision has gone all sparkly. Not green, though. Not green.
He stops dead. Wavering on his feet. Staring dully at what's in front of him like it can't be.
Slowly, his mind processes a somewhat-suppressed memory of a conversation with an ineffable being that runs a boat in space full of prisoners.
"Jesus fucking Christ.
"Jesus fucking Christ."
Somewhere in his exhausted brain and body, he reaches a reserve of adrenaline not yet depleted, and he takes the few steps to what-was-formerly-the-airlock-door at a run. Slams his hand into the release, and it opens onto the hallways of the Barge.
Like he knew it would.
Time seems to do a weird sort of skip, because suddenly his face is on the ground and he's not standing up anymore. And his vision has gone all sparkly. Not green, though. Not green.
