( one moment gustave was fighting a nevron in the caverns of stone wave cliffs, and the next—here he was, a migraine blossoming on the back of his head (did he get hit by the nevron, fall unconscious?), none of his fellow expeditioners nearby. disorienting is one way to put it, and his panic almost gives way to a stream of bile out of his empty stomach. some medicine they give him, and although he feels the electric tingles of anxiety under his skin, he's... better.
whatever 'better' can be defined as.
a solution is given to him, though: the idea that those he is looking for might very well be found at the end of the road, in panorama. it's not a certainty, but there's not much he can do, as yom crook (what an unpleasant name, he thinks) basically tosses him off to find his way, he's got other things to do.
after picking out a car that supplies his endless engineering curiosity with questions, he trails off to the side of the scrapyard, manual in hand, hesitantly handling the keys and passing the pages with a cinched brow. does the author of this manual accept feedback?
stepping to the side, he sits down (tumbling back a little, this cinder block was lower than he anticipated), checks his backpack to make sure he still has all his items with him—his journal, the lumina converter—before he starts poring over the pages of the manual. )
Automobiles — place the key onto the ignition...
( his words trail off as he glances up, realizing something that seems pretty important. this is a standard manual for every vehicle here. so— his arms droop between his knees, helplessly, speaking his grievances out to nobody in particular. )
Aren't these all different types of vehicles? How does one manual fit all?
❧ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇʜɪᴄʟᴇ
whatever 'better' can be defined as.
a solution is given to him, though: the idea that those he is looking for might very well be found at the end of the road, in panorama. it's not a certainty, but there's not much he can do, as yom crook (what an unpleasant name, he thinks) basically tosses him off to find his way, he's got other things to do.
after picking out a car that supplies his endless engineering curiosity with questions, he trails off to the side of the scrapyard, manual in hand, hesitantly handling the keys and passing the pages with a cinched brow. does the author of this manual accept feedback?
stepping to the side, he sits down (tumbling back a little, this cinder block was lower than he anticipated), checks his backpack to make sure he still has all his items with him—his journal, the lumina converter—before he starts poring over the pages of the manual. )
Automobiles — place the key onto the ignition...
( his words trail off as he glances up, realizing something that seems pretty important. this is a standard manual for every vehicle here. so— his arms droop between his knees, helplessly, speaking his grievances out to nobody in particular. )
Aren't these all different types of vehicles? How does one manual fit all?