slukhtis | ic inbox.

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Good thought. [he figures he'll get bored and try it later anyway, but.]

You'll probably find that it went and put a few things in your head. Information, mostly. Got any idea which job you're supposed to have?

[ Eventually maybe. When he is bored and free of this ship, when Robin is closer and can probably peel his ass off the floor something. ]

Yeah it's... [ How he explain it? It's weird for anyone, but for him it's even worse. He doesn't just know things. He never has. ] uncomfortable.

Something about security.

[ Fingers press into skin, press against the augment, and he hisses. ]

I don't like it. I try not to think about it, most of the time.

[because he then has to consider how Atroma could put a foreign object in his flesh without his blood trying to destroy it. even he doesn't have a complete mastery over his own body--how could Atroma have done it?]

Figures you'd get the guns, though.

Don't want to think about it. Makes me feel sick.

[ Information, words, things he knows he shouldn't know but he does. The slight tingle where flesh tries to knit itself back together, but can't. Obstructed. Michael groans, poking at the lump once more before dropping his hand. ]

Yeah? [ A sniff. ] I've always been good at fighting and shit.

I have the enginessss. [he says it through a sudden smirk, through his teeth, since the thought strikes him as hilarious. despite it all, despite everything they'd just said.] Someone thinks it should be up to me to keep us in the sky.

[ Michael scoffs, screwing up his nose. Shifting easily into this, despite everything, casual conversation as if the rest of it was never broached. ]

Who that that was a good idea?