Jakob is still clinging to that lever, because fuck if he’s got any other lifelines right now. Although the damn thing might snap if they keep this up for much longer.
But right now he isn’t thinking about that. Right now he’s thinking about that awful lurching feeling like he’d been yanked out of his own skin, and that feeling had yet to subside—indeed it had grown even worse the moment that hatch opened, at literally the worst fucking time, because of course it did!!!
“I’m—I’m trying!” he screams above the dim of alarms, feeling his jaw rattling in his skull as he says it. The fact that Add’s finally stilled and grabbed a hold of him like he should’ve ages ago is of small comfort to Jakob, who feels as though he might be yanked out of there and into that flashing, roaring darkness—wherever this is.
His grip on the lever is steely, but given the awkwardness of his position vis-à-vis the damned contraption as well as the fact that he’s clinging to Add tightly with his other arm means that his progress will be slow, and will look for all the world like he’s dancing at a rave. A midnight robot rave of death in the midst of an extra-atmospheric techno-beat acid trip with an extra heaping helping of blaring sirens.
And maybe it’s the jerk of the cockpit as the hatch opens or maybe it’s because Jakob’s too distracted to really make sense of things anymore, but when he finally flips that damn switch Add will find himself engulfed with an overwhelming feeling of relief through their emphatic link…
Only for it to be cut short the moment an airbag pops out of somewhere nearby to slam them further back into the cockpit.
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But right now he isn’t thinking about that. Right now he’s thinking about that awful lurching feeling like he’d been yanked out of his own skin, and that feeling had yet to subside—indeed it had grown even worse the moment that hatch opened, at literally the worst fucking time, because of course it did!!!
“I’m—I’m trying!” he screams above the dim of alarms, feeling his jaw rattling in his skull as he says it. The fact that Add’s finally stilled and grabbed a hold of him like he should’ve ages ago is of small comfort to Jakob, who feels as though he might be yanked out of there and into that flashing, roaring darkness—wherever this is.
His grip on the lever is steely, but given the awkwardness of his position vis-à-vis the damned contraption as well as the fact that he’s clinging to Add tightly with his other arm means that his progress will be slow, and will look for all the world like he’s dancing at a rave. A midnight robot rave of death in the midst of an extra-atmospheric techno-beat acid trip with an extra heaping helping of blaring sirens.
And maybe it’s the jerk of the cockpit as the hatch opens or maybe it’s because Jakob’s too distracted to really make sense of things anymore, but when he finally flips that damn switch Add will find himself engulfed with an overwhelming feeling of relief through their emphatic link…
Only for it to be cut short the moment an airbag pops out of somewhere nearby to slam them further back into the cockpit.