I don't really care, [ Stephen growls with an animal edge, ] so long as they've got some answers.
[ His eyes take another sweep of the tent – old, worn, patched-up from damage incurred even before he arrived here. He doesn't miss the robot in the corner with faint blood spatters on its surface, or the bottles nearby with familiar names of sedatives. If he were to wake up somewhere, injured and incapacitated, he'd expect it to be in a fractured rift, or the illusory pocket dimension of an extradimensional god. Not... some makeshift field medic tent in the middle of god-knows-where.
Then it hits him – the Eye.
He grits his teeth against the throbbing in his temples. He gestures his hand in an upward motion and floats up and out of the bed to land on his feet. He snaps his wrist outward and the dark clothes piled on a chair near the exit rise and fly toward him, shimmering for just a moment before reforming onto his body – except for the cloak draped over the chair's backrest.
He frowns at it for a moment, but has larger problems on his mind. Inwardly, he opens his third eye – his fourth, his fifth. He projects feelers through the air, between molecules and matter – tastes the flavor and integrity of the universe around him. They stretch through the edges of the tent and into the camp around it, searching for the Eye's distinctive signature, also intersecting with the girl in front of him–
because how else would you know he's EVIL jay
[ His eyes take another sweep of the tent – old, worn, patched-up from damage incurred even before he arrived here. He doesn't miss the robot in the corner with faint blood spatters on its surface, or the bottles nearby with familiar names of sedatives. If he were to wake up somewhere, injured and incapacitated, he'd expect it to be in a fractured rift, or the illusory pocket dimension of an extradimensional god. Not... some makeshift field medic tent in the middle of god-knows-where.
Then it hits him – the Eye.
He grits his teeth against the throbbing in his temples. He gestures his hand in an upward motion and floats up and out of the bed to land on his feet. He snaps his wrist outward and the dark clothes piled on a chair near the exit rise and fly toward him, shimmering for just a moment before reforming onto his body – except for the cloak draped over the chair's backrest.
He frowns at it for a moment, but has larger problems on his mind. Inwardly, he opens his third eye – his fourth, his fifth. He projects feelers through the air, between molecules and matter – tastes the flavor and integrity of the universe around him. They stretch through the edges of the tent and into the camp around it, searching for the Eye's distinctive signature, also intersecting with the girl in front of him–
He pauses. Refocuses on her. ]
You're... not from here.