→ Hello First things first. Before any real exploring is done, Athri hunkers down under the first protective overhang of rubble they can find, wedging themself in as tightly and securely as they can. There is tinkering that needs to be done, and you bet they're not going to be caught with their back exposed while they do it.
This might not be the exact device that they're used to, but they sure know a communicator when they see one. They'll just dwell on the fact that they can't remember how this one got on their person later.
Across the network, a video feed of big, reptilian eyes and a lot of dull bluish scales goes live. The strangely monotone voice that follows is halting and quick, as if they can't decide whether to stay quiet or get out as many words as they can in the height of their anxiety, so they kind of do both.
"Captain? Can you... are you hearing this? Is this thing connected or broadcasting or... Captain, can you read me? Or. I guess. Nick... Or Gabe or Rue or anybody just pick up the damned comm."
→ Creeping When the comm absolutely isn't giving them what they want, they finally venture out for a little exploring. They're doing their best to be sneaky as they make their way through the ruins of the city, but they really don't have the patience to do a good job of it. So, anyone around can catch sight of a very stressed-looking bundle of lizardy nerves creeping along ledges and scurrying down alleyways.
They look mostly human at a distance, though not the correct color at all and their arms seem something like leathery wings folded against their body... and when they notice that they have been spotted, a mane of bristly spikes immediately flares out from their scalp and down their neck. And there they freeze, as though maybe if they don't move, they can't actually be seen.
→ Bishop Then, they find actual ships, and nothing else matters in the world. It takes some finagling to find one that will actually let them in, but after that, the little reptile is all over every inch of the interior. Buttons are pressed, air vents are peered into, panels are peeled open so that the wires and connections can be inspected. And though they strangely understand only a tiny bit of what they're looking at, that doesn't deter them at all.
This is not the first time that they've had to pick foreign technology apart. Surely, if they just look at it long enough, something will begin to click.
...And when nothing does click, their anxiety hits a peak point of snapping, and they set in on the flight controls with near-panicked fervor. Flipping monitors on and off and yanking on the stick, they desperately try to get the ship to do something useful.
Athri | OC
First things first. Before any real exploring is done, Athri hunkers down under the first protective overhang of rubble they can find, wedging themself in as tightly and securely as they can. There is tinkering that needs to be done, and you bet they're not going to be caught with their back exposed while they do it.
This might not be the exact device that they're used to, but they sure know a communicator when they see one. They'll just dwell on the fact that they can't remember how this one got on their person later.
Across the network, a video feed of big, reptilian eyes and a lot of dull bluish scales goes live. The strangely monotone voice that follows is halting and quick, as if they can't decide whether to stay quiet or get out as many words as they can in the height of their anxiety, so they kind of do both.
"Captain? Can you... are you hearing this? Is this thing connected or broadcasting or... Captain, can you read me? Or. I guess. Nick... Or Gabe or Rue or anybody just pick up the damned comm."
→ Creeping
When the comm absolutely isn't giving them what they want, they finally venture out for a little exploring. They're doing their best to be sneaky as they make their way through the ruins of the city, but they really don't have the patience to do a good job of it. So, anyone around can catch sight of a very stressed-looking bundle of lizardy nerves creeping along ledges and scurrying down alleyways.
They look mostly human at a distance, though not the correct color at all and their arms seem something like leathery wings folded against their body... and when they notice that they have been spotted, a mane of bristly spikes immediately flares out from their scalp and down their neck. And there they freeze, as though maybe if they don't move, they can't actually be seen.
→ Bishop
Then, they find actual ships, and nothing else matters in the world. It takes some finagling to find one that will actually let them in, but after that, the little reptile is all over every inch of the interior. Buttons are pressed, air vents are peered into, panels are peeled open so that the wires and connections can be inspected. And though they strangely understand only a tiny bit of what they're looking at, that doesn't deter them at all.
This is not the first time that they've had to pick foreign technology apart. Surely, if they just look at it long enough, something will begin to click.
...And when nothing does click, their anxiety hits a peak point of snapping, and they set in on the flight controls with near-panicked fervor. Flipping monitors on and off and yanking on the stick, they desperately try to get the ship to do something useful.
"--Come on, you scrapheap! Fly!"