Logs:Transit Woes

Transit Woes
Dramatis Personae Joshua, Skye	2021-10-16 "Is this like, that episode of Star Trek where they're stuck in a warp bubble?" (Set after the Prometheus raid), part of Prometheus plot.)
Location <???> Bus 2 - Somewhere Out There
The bus is prosaic enough, one of those agile smaller models that, while not new or luxurious, is perfect for youth group trips, bachelor/ette parties, and rescuing people from torture and imprisonment in secret government labs. This particular bus, however, is doing none of those. It's not entirely clear what it's doing, in fact, out here. It's even less clear where "out here" even is. The only passenger had started out this unexpected detour in the very back of the bus. Since then Skye has, in rough order: had a panic attack, tried to get up, lost consciousness from aggravating the already blinding pain of her badly fractured left tibia and fibula, crudely braced her leg with the supplies in the first aid kit that had been left open beside her, and slowly crawled up the aisle to the front of the bus, fighting back another panic attack all the while. With the aid of the rail behind the driver's seat, she tries very carefully to stand up on her uninjured leg, then sinks back down with a cry of agony. When she can move again she changes tack, climbing awkwardly up onto the first bench seat by the door, affording almost as good a view out the windshield as she'd get upright. What had looked to her like an unusually empty and weirdly overcast night sky from her vantage point on the floor now proves to extend down, down, well past where the ground should be. Though she cannot see under the bus, she can find no evidence that any ground is hiding there, either. In fact, there looks to be nothing outside at all. It's dim but not fully dark, though it's impossible to tell where the meager light is coming from. It's also weirdly difficult to tell what color the completely uniform not-dark is. Without any outside objects for reference, the emptiness conveys no distance, no direction, no motion, no...nothing. "Ta ma de," is apparently all Skye has to say to this as she slumps back, breathing shallow and shaky and much too fast. "Yup." Joshua was definitely not on this bus when Skye started this procress -- it probably would have made the whole Leg Splinting process go a lot smoother! But quietly and abruptly he is there, tucked sideways into the driver's seat, looking very much the same as the last time Skye saw him. Hair a little more ruffled, otherwise unharmed, expression the same bland hangdog mournfulness. His eyes close for just a moment; there's a brief but subtle sag of his shoulders. He pushes himself out of the seat, eying the nothingness outside as he moves to Skye's bench instead, frowning down at the makeshift brace. "Not much chance of seeing three stars out there. -- Can I look?" He's nodding toward the leg. Skye doesn't literally jump at Joshua's appearance, but she starts hard enough to jostle her injury and grits her teeth hard, hands gripping the railing hard. Possibly she missed his question in the surge of pain, because she's firing back questions of her own instead of answering his. "Is the raid still -- ? Oh shit are Jax and Matt -- I'm so sorry -- is anyone else hurt? Did they get out? Don't worry about me this is fine you can pick me up later..." This last assurance is maybe not very convincing because she is breaking down into tears. Joshua lets out a quiet hfff through his nose, sinking down onto the edge of the bench. "Oh, everyone's hurt," he tells Skye like he's reassuring her of this fact, earnest and solemn. "They're all back in New York. When's later? Can you tell, here?" He's nodding toward the eerie nothingness outside the windows. "Leg?" Skye's eyes get impossibly larger. "Fuck! But no one died, right? They got the -- people? Out?" Despite her continuing stream of questions and also continuing streams of tears she does shift to give Joshua better access to her wounded leg. "I can't really lift it up it hurts too much sorry I did the --" She flails one hand at the brightly colored SAM splint haphazardly wrapped around her shin. "-- thing. Wrong." "Takes practice. Sorry. This is going to hurt." Joshua does his best to keep the jostling to a minimum, but the process of removing a splint, putting a broken bone in traction -- it's not exactly pleasant. "Got -- most of them," he says as he works. "Didn't know where you went." His eyes flick up. Quick and sharp, and almost immediately back down. Muttering: "Still don't. Wish these side quests came with instructions." Skye nods jerkily, the hand still on the rail gripping harder and the other closed around the red brocade spell pouch her mother had insisted she wear. None of that stops her screaming when Joshua goes to work on her leg, though she stifles it quickly to a high wavering mewl. When she trusts herself to open her mouth without shrieking again, she say, between shallow breaths, "When you blipped I thought someone else must have -- I mean I felt it but I don't know who -- but then the trees and buildings turned into this bullshit. No transition. Like your teleporting." "Thought the guard teleported you away." Joshua's jaw has tightened through the screaming, but it doesn't stop his steady work. He doesn't look up until the brace -- firm and secure, this time -- is neatly in place. "Figured grabbing you back would be. Quick." He sits backwards in the bench chair when he's done, slumping with his knees braced on the seat back and his head pressing hard to the seat that should be in front of them. "Should be some kind of rule. Simple powers only for the traitors." "Thank you." Skye's voice is still shaky, but she starts settling back down by degrees, frowning out the window. "If it's not teleportation is this like, that episode of Star Trek where they're stuck in a warp bubble? Ok, that's like, several episodes of Star Trek -- wait you figured --" She just blinks at him for a moment. When she speaks again it's just a quiet, "Oh fuck." "Yup." It's flatter, this time. Joshua is getting up. Going to the front of the bus to open the door. He's oddly nonchalant about ambling down the steps, sticking his head out into -- what? "Space, I could do. Mongolia, the Challenger Deep. This --" Idly curious, he takes a step out of the bus -- briefly vanishes into the blackness -- reappears a second later, slightly greener around the gills and dropping back into the driver's seat. "-- think we're a bit far out of my usual. Coverage area." Skye sits up as straight as she can manage without moving her left leg and cranes her neck to watch Joshua's extravehicular excursion with an anxious frown. "What's out there, though? Please don't tell me it's some Lovecraft shit because I have had enough tentacles for the day." She sinks back down, thudding the side of her head against the seat back. "Getting eaten by Cthulhu or whatever might be better than starving to death in here, though." There's a distorted kind of noise hollow and underwater sounding for a moment that seems almost like it's coming from just outside the bus -- a moment later it clarifies into a voice, bland and conversational, "-- think they'll be coming back for all this? Man, if I were hitting up a place like this I'd bring less snacks, more weapons but that's just --" This voice has been coming from one of the same two guards who had, earlier, appeared to shunt the bus into this vague nothing-space earlier; he's chewing on one of Jackson's pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, his brows raised as he spies Joshua and Skye. His partner, trailing slightly behind, has a metallic rainbow-oilslick fidget cube in hand, clicking one of its buttons with a slightly satisfied look. "Okay but this is neat," he's saying, until he looks up and catches sight of the other two. He looks at Joshua. Looks at his companion. The satisfied smile spreads just that much wider.