[ Ian's eyebrows go up - ironically higher and more reactive to space program than he's been to creepy basement. ]
Shit.
[ He says, clearly impressed. Space program's no joke, you have to have some serious dedication.
He gestures to himself vaguely. ]
Mechanical and a side-order of civil.
[ The most basic bitches of the engineering field. Guaranteed he always had a job, though, so. Can't complain.
Focus here, they've been kidnapped and locked into a creepy probably haunted cabin by what they're now assuming is a psycho doctor. Not for nothing, but he's picturing Hannibal Lector from the NBC show, but cross-bred with the cancer guy from Saw.
Slapping that combination together does a good job helping him get his priorities straight. ]
I, uh- there's one other thing that I can do that might help. I'm not usually the oversharing type, but. You know.
[ A glance at the cabin around them. Situation being what it is...
The way he got out yesterday was by making a screwdriver. Now, he's thinking the tools they're going to need are a little less friendly. He holds out a hand - not in Mace's direction, but straight out above his knee, palm up. From somewhere just off to the right of the vein, soft blue light starts to peek through muscle and skin. It grows, it glows, it spreads up his wrist and into his palm.
In the air above it, particles bleed into existence. They're summoned forth from seemingly nothing, knitting together in a way that looks like a spiraling galaxy until you notice that it's just steel, just shaped metal gathering up into the soon-recognizable shape of a knife.
When he curls his fingers around the hilt, it all seems to stop. Solid, tangible, real. He turns it over in his hand, offers the hilt out.
no subject
Shit.
[ He says, clearly impressed. Space program's no joke, you have to have some serious dedication.
He gestures to himself vaguely. ]
Mechanical and a side-order of civil.
[ The most basic bitches of the engineering field. Guaranteed he always had a job, though, so. Can't complain.
Focus here, they've been kidnapped and locked into a creepy probably haunted cabin by what they're now assuming is a psycho doctor. Not for nothing, but he's picturing Hannibal Lector from the NBC show, but cross-bred with the cancer guy from Saw.
Slapping that combination together does a good job helping him get his priorities straight. ]
I, uh- there's one other thing that I can do that might help. I'm not usually the oversharing type, but. You know.
[ A glance at the cabin around them. Situation being what it is...
The way he got out yesterday was by making a screwdriver. Now, he's thinking the tools they're going to need are a little less friendly. He holds out a hand - not in Mace's direction, but straight out above his knee, palm up. From somewhere just off to the right of the vein, soft blue light starts to peek through muscle and skin. It grows, it glows, it spreads up his wrist and into his palm.
In the air above it, particles bleed into existence. They're summoned forth from seemingly nothing, knitting together in a way that looks like a spiraling galaxy until you notice that it's just steel, just shaped metal gathering up into the soon-recognizable shape of a knife.
When he curls his fingers around the hilt, it all seems to stop. Solid, tangible, real. He turns it over in his hand, offers the hilt out.
So, there's that going for them. ]