(no subject)
When Sariel walks through the door tonight (it would've led to her quarters, if there hadn't been an interdimensional pub in the way), the first thing she notices is not the hole in the floor, nor the rotting back doorframe. It's the strange, unsettling here-gone-here-again-gone shimmer to the place.
She freezes. One arm lifts, and is intently gazed at. Hand, wrist, sleeve. And the floor beneath, just for a second.
"Oh, no. My God."
The first two words are at normal volume. The second are much quieter, though still audible if anyone's near. A couple more might also be heard if you listen, but unless you speak Lucian Kweyol, they might not translate very well. General consternation and dismay probably will, though.
She's almost grateful, once she turns in place, that her still-manifest door refuses to open when she tries it. Given the way she's now glowing, she isn't at all sure going back to the Enterprise would be a good idea if the door worked. Risking contamination of her entire ship by... whatever this is isn't something she has any desire to do.
But then it's gone, faded to normalcy in an eyeblink, and she can no more see through her hand as she can through... anything else in the room. And so it stays through several seconds of very close scrutiny. Hand, wrist, sleeve. Walls. Door.
That doesn't mean she's happy. Oh no.
"What on--?"
She eventually ends up at an unoccupied table. We say eventually because the slightly steaming teakettle that's been placed on the table's surface will probably be familiar to anyone who's seen Sariel's room upstairs. It's fair to say, given how normal (if semi-transparent, just for a moment) they look, that the handful of assorted teabags alongside it probably came from there too. It's a passing waitrat, however, who adds a pair of mugs to the setup. Sariel only fills one, but so far, she hasn't taken a sip.
She's looking... well. The bar is all but cracking apart, she's cut off from her ship, the whole room and its contents were undeniably glowing for a minute there, and even though the third is potentially a very valid reason for the second...
Several descriptors could honestly be applied here, all of them different. Cheerful isn't one of them.
On the bright side, she at least seems inclined to share her tea. The presence of the second mug says as much, if you don't know Sariel herself.
It's the little things.
((OOC: These *are* in fact the edits you're looking for, and I say xiexie. All threads Millitimed to before Sariel-Will.))
She freezes. One arm lifts, and is intently gazed at. Hand, wrist, sleeve. And the floor beneath, just for a second.
"Oh, no. My God."
The first two words are at normal volume. The second are much quieter, though still audible if anyone's near. A couple more might also be heard if you listen, but unless you speak Lucian Kweyol, they might not translate very well. General consternation and dismay probably will, though.
She's almost grateful, once she turns in place, that her still-manifest door refuses to open when she tries it. Given the way she's now glowing, she isn't at all sure going back to the Enterprise would be a good idea if the door worked. Risking contamination of her entire ship by... whatever this is isn't something she has any desire to do.
But then it's gone, faded to normalcy in an eyeblink, and she can no more see through her hand as she can through... anything else in the room. And so it stays through several seconds of very close scrutiny. Hand, wrist, sleeve. Walls. Door.
That doesn't mean she's happy. Oh no.
"What on--?"
She eventually ends up at an unoccupied table. We say eventually because the slightly steaming teakettle that's been placed on the table's surface will probably be familiar to anyone who's seen Sariel's room upstairs. It's fair to say, given how normal (if semi-transparent, just for a moment) they look, that the handful of assorted teabags alongside it probably came from there too. It's a passing waitrat, however, who adds a pair of mugs to the setup. Sariel only fills one, but so far, she hasn't taken a sip.
She's looking... well. The bar is all but cracking apart, she's cut off from her ship, the whole room and its contents were undeniably glowing for a minute there, and even though the third is potentially a very valid reason for the second...
Several descriptors could honestly be applied here, all of them different. Cheerful isn't one of them.
On the bright side, she at least seems inclined to share her tea. The presence of the second mug says as much, if you don't know Sariel herself.
It's the little things.
((OOC: These *are* in fact the edits you're looking for, and I say xiexie. All threads Millitimed to before Sariel-Will.))