[ Jiaoqiu stands in front of the window, hands tucked neatly behind his back, but he does not gaze down at the view of the trading post beneath them. With a white blindfold fastened securely over his eyes, he instead pays attention to the sounds of the people around him, one vulpine ear cocked in the direction of the med bay.
After he'd arrived via portal, the medical drone -- Silverpoint's Last Bloom, if he recalls correctly -- had cheerfully noted that he was without sight, and had offered him a medical device. A small earpiece and a pinhole camera that clips to the side of his ear, which describes everything around him. So far, since being blinded, he'd been getting by with his enhanced hearing filling in where his sight could not, but ever since he stepped though that portal and onto this ship, his hearing is terribly muffled. Down to human levels, if he had to guess.
Thus, the earpiece is more useful than anticipated.
It's quietly murmuring to him a description of the view beyond the window; a medium-sized planet with green landmasses and pale grey clouds, the trading post is visible as a web of hexagonal structures. Accessing local shipping data: trading barge Crimson Wing is moving at an altitude of 4500 meters in an eastward direction. Scouting ship On Sunlit Wings is at an altitude of--
On second thought, perhaps it is a little too detailed.
Jiaoqiu turns to the other side of the hallway, where his earpiece busily describes the nebula outside. There is someone next to him in the hallway, pointed also in the direction of the nebula, though with his muffled hearing he cannot pick up any obvious emotional cues. Are they scared, after their journey through universes? Is he? Jiaoqiu hardly knows; emotionally, he seems to have accepted this with all of the deadened reactions he normally suffers. Rather than scared, or angry, he is merely mildly curious, and a little worried about leaving his people behind. But instead of fretting, he turns a mild, polite smile to the person next to him. ]
It must be a spectacular view. Do you suppose we're pointed directly at it for a reason?
β βΈ» imbibe
[ Ah, now here is far more familiar territory for Jiaoqiu. Being pulled through to another universe is not where his expertise lays. Food, however, very much is. He stalks between the food trucks with the discerning ear of a chef, stopping and starting suddenly when his earpiece frantically informs him of an imminent collision, frowning under his blindfold.
Delightfully, this place has ingredients and cultures he has never even heard of. He tries everything from spiced blackfin marrow soup, to five-tier beanflour pancakes. He gets into avid discussions with the Hosts serving these things, holding up lines and making an absolute nuisance of himself, at least before he remembers his manners.
And finally, he is sat at a table in the middle of the park, head tilted down as if to gaze at the potential masterpiece that lays before him. The (Maybe) Cake, which his earpiece informs him has a fish head sticking out of it, rainbow icing oozing from between the layers, candied balls, and a wafer-like criss-cross top layer. ]
Magnificent.
[ He exhales, fingers steepled in deep thought. And then addresses a nearby person: ]
Tell me; can you tell if the fish head is real, or a particularly finely wrought confection?
β βΈ» foreword
[ One docking bay is much like another, so Jiaoqiu does not need to see it to appreciate how vast it is: he can hear that well enough, the sounds of ships echoing through the cavernous space.
Starling's Lament's presentation is a curious thing, and at last provides some answers on what this exploratory mission is meant to be. They had said in the medbay that these Ascendants had rescued them from a fate of messily, accidentally appearing in the empty void of space, and that the mysterious Song they seek potentially has some means of sending them home. As with all things, Jiaoqiu is... doubtful, but willing to entertain the possibility. Now, they are being told that they are following scraps of legends, hoping to find the Song in the trailways of these Edicts.
As the presentation ends, Jiaoqiu stands in front of the tables laid out with exploratory gear, deep in thought. He cannot possibly make the decision to be in Medical. With his recent injuries, there are obstacles he has not yet learned to overcome -- and, if he's being ruthlessly honest with himself, may never be able to overcome. To sign up to the Medical Division would mean he'd be a weak link in the chain. A healer that cannot properly do his job.
Instead, he settles a hand on a pack for Support. If he cannot heal, he can certainly cook.
He slings the pack over his shoulder, and goes to inspect the nearby ships. His earpiece describes the nearest one, a bulky transport that focuses on heavy shielding and steady flight. An Iron Horizon, he is informed. In another life, Jiaoqiu might have been a pilot, like so many of his people. But he never felt that call to the sky the same way that many of his friends did, only a call to medical research, and later, to alchemy and healing. Still, the thought of his own ship...
It's tempting. ]
Will you take one for yourself?
[ He asks the person closest, reaching out to place a curious hand against the cool metal of the ship's side. There must be a decal or a pattern, he can feel the ever-so-slight ridges under his fingertips. ]
Are they all like this one, or can you see other types? A discerning customer must of course see all of one's options before one chooses.
jiaoqiu | honkai: star rail
[ Jiaoqiu stands in front of the window, hands tucked neatly behind his back, but he does not gaze down at the view of the trading post beneath them. With a white blindfold fastened securely over his eyes, he instead pays attention to the sounds of the people around him, one vulpine ear cocked in the direction of the med bay.
After he'd arrived via portal, the medical drone -- Silverpoint's Last Bloom, if he recalls correctly -- had cheerfully noted that he was without sight, and had offered him a medical device. A small earpiece and a pinhole camera that clips to the side of his ear, which describes everything around him. So far, since being blinded, he'd been getting by with his enhanced hearing filling in where his sight could not, but ever since he stepped though that portal and onto this ship, his hearing is terribly muffled. Down to human levels, if he had to guess.
Thus, the earpiece is more useful than anticipated.
It's quietly murmuring to him a description of the view beyond the window; a medium-sized planet with green landmasses and pale grey clouds, the trading post is visible as a web of hexagonal structures. Accessing local shipping data: trading barge Crimson Wing is moving at an altitude of 4500 meters in an eastward direction. Scouting ship On Sunlit Wings is at an altitude of--
On second thought, perhaps it is a little too detailed.
Jiaoqiu turns to the other side of the hallway, where his earpiece busily describes the nebula outside. There is someone next to him in the hallway, pointed also in the direction of the nebula, though with his muffled hearing he cannot pick up any obvious emotional cues. Are they scared, after their journey through universes? Is he? Jiaoqiu hardly knows; emotionally, he seems to have accepted this with all of the deadened reactions he normally suffers. Rather than scared, or angry, he is merely mildly curious, and a little worried about leaving his people behind. But instead of fretting, he turns a mild, polite smile to the person next to him. ]
It must be a spectacular view. Do you suppose we're pointed directly at it for a reason?
[ Ah, now here is far more familiar territory for Jiaoqiu. Being pulled through to another universe is not where his expertise lays. Food, however, very much is. He stalks between the food trucks with the discerning ear of a chef, stopping and starting suddenly when his earpiece frantically informs him of an imminent collision, frowning under his blindfold.
Delightfully, this place has ingredients and cultures he has never even heard of. He tries everything from spiced blackfin marrow soup, to five-tier beanflour pancakes. He gets into avid discussions with the Hosts serving these things, holding up lines and making an absolute nuisance of himself, at least before he remembers his manners.
And finally, he is sat at a table in the middle of the park, head tilted down as if to gaze at the potential masterpiece that lays before him. The (Maybe) Cake, which his earpiece informs him has a fish head sticking out of it, rainbow icing oozing from between the layers, candied balls, and a wafer-like criss-cross top layer. ]
Magnificent.
[ He exhales, fingers steepled in deep thought. And then addresses a nearby person: ]
Tell me; can you tell if the fish head is real, or a particularly finely wrought confection?
[ One docking bay is much like another, so Jiaoqiu does not need to see it to appreciate how vast it is: he can hear that well enough, the sounds of ships echoing through the cavernous space.
Starling's Lament's presentation is a curious thing, and at last provides some answers on what this exploratory mission is meant to be. They had said in the medbay that these Ascendants had rescued them from a fate of messily, accidentally appearing in the empty void of space, and that the mysterious Song they seek potentially has some means of sending them home. As with all things, Jiaoqiu is... doubtful, but willing to entertain the possibility. Now, they are being told that they are following scraps of legends, hoping to find the Song in the trailways of these Edicts.
As the presentation ends, Jiaoqiu stands in front of the tables laid out with exploratory gear, deep in thought. He cannot possibly make the decision to be in Medical. With his recent injuries, there are obstacles he has not yet learned to overcome -- and, if he's being ruthlessly honest with himself, may never be able to overcome. To sign up to the Medical Division would mean he'd be a weak link in the chain. A healer that cannot properly do his job.
Instead, he settles a hand on a pack for Support. If he cannot heal, he can certainly cook.
He slings the pack over his shoulder, and goes to inspect the nearby ships. His earpiece describes the nearest one, a bulky transport that focuses on heavy shielding and steady flight. An Iron Horizon, he is informed. In another life, Jiaoqiu might have been a pilot, like so many of his people. But he never felt that call to the sky the same way that many of his friends did, only a call to medical research, and later, to alchemy and healing. Still, the thought of his own ship...
It's tempting. ]
Will you take one for yourself?
[ He asks the person closest, reaching out to place a curious hand against the cool metal of the ship's side. There must be a decal or a pattern, he can feel the ever-so-slight ridges under his fingertips. ]
Are they all like this one, or can you see other types? A discerning customer must of course see all of one's options before one chooses.