[ He definitely should have — maneuvered that a different way, his ribs are gonna hate him later. And he severely underestimated the weight of it, but he collects himself, takes a few breaths, wipes at the sweat on his brow, and gets them rolling. He comes down on two sides of this — he can play pretty well at being friendly, sometimes even a reasonable amount of talkative — depending on the situation. He's had to be good at reading situations and people fairly quickly since he was a kid, with the kind of world he grew up in. He's also had to learn to fit in places. But he's not about painting a pretty picture of himself or making himself look and seem like someone he's not. What you see is what you get with him, take it or leave it. It's just that he's very aware of how he is, what he holds inside, how he comes across, so sometimes he works a little harder at doing the opposite of what his first instinct might be.
They don't have to talk. In some way, maybe, there's not a lot to say exactly, except they're strangers and if you flip it, there's a whole lot to say. He's not motivated by the thought of conversation alone, not even motivated by the idea of getting to know her whole history, who she is, what she does, how she's feeling.
Some of it, he can already read on her face, in her eyes. Some of it — a lot of it — she'll hold close until and unless she's ready to give it away. And until that time, she can keep it all safe as long as she wants, he won't go knocking on doors that aren't his.
— what does motivate him to consider some degree of conversation is that so far, it seems to have done...something. He can't attribute "good" to any action he's taken up until now, but it got her in the jeep and they're going towards the unknown city together, and she's fiddling with the radio. It tells him she's a little more at ease, and he wants her to be. And maybe talking a little will keep her there, in a moment where she can just be whoever she wants to be, whoever she maybe hasn't been in a while. ]
Nah, see — worrying about what might happen, what does it do for me right now? Moment to moment, that's what we got. And this moment — [ He almost turns to look at her, but thinks better of it. Until he feels supremely confident with this thing, he'll keep his eyes straight ahead. Going forward is easy enough, at least. ] It's alright.
[ He doesn't have access to those feelings easily, feelings like fear and worry. He knows what they are, he remembers feeling them once more readily a very long time ago. And sure, he's been in situations — especially out in space — that got him on edge. None of them here expected to be here, wanted to be here, but they are, and his mind immediately switches to focusing on what he can do, what he can control, what he can learn about this place to deal with whatever shit might come at them. It's just he spends less time pondering what that shit could be. ] Doesn't mean I feel settled, though.
[ But he recognizes his feelings — or lack thereof — aren't universal. ]
no subject
They don't have to talk. In some way, maybe, there's not a lot to say exactly, except they're strangers and if you flip it, there's a whole lot to say. He's not motivated by the thought of conversation alone, not even motivated by the idea of getting to know her whole history, who she is, what she does, how she's feeling.
Some of it, he can already read on her face, in her eyes. Some of it — a lot of it — she'll hold close until and unless she's ready to give it away. And until that time, she can keep it all safe as long as she wants, he won't go knocking on doors that aren't his.
— what does motivate him to consider some degree of conversation is that so far, it seems to have done...something. He can't attribute "good" to any action he's taken up until now, but it got her in the jeep and they're going towards the unknown city together, and she's fiddling with the radio. It tells him she's a little more at ease, and he wants her to be. And maybe talking a little will keep her there, in a moment where she can just be whoever she wants to be, whoever she maybe hasn't been in a while. ]
Nah, see — worrying about what might happen, what does it do for me right now? Moment to moment, that's what we got. And this moment — [ He almost turns to look at her, but thinks better of it. Until he feels supremely confident with this thing, he'll keep his eyes straight ahead. Going forward is easy enough, at least. ] It's alright.
[ He doesn't have access to those feelings easily, feelings like fear and worry. He knows what they are, he remembers feeling them once more readily a very long time ago. And sure, he's been in situations — especially out in space — that got him on edge. None of them here expected to be here, wanted to be here, but they are, and his mind immediately switches to focusing on what he can do, what he can control, what he can learn about this place to deal with whatever shit might come at them. It's just he spends less time pondering what that shit could be. ] Doesn't mean I feel settled, though.
[ But he recognizes his feelings — or lack thereof — aren't universal. ]
You worried?