Drift

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"Hey, you okay? That crash looked pretty bad..."

*Zeta's icy blue eyes slowly flutter open, piercing the hazy light of the crumbling chamber. A groan escapes her lips, not of pain, but of irritation as she pushes herself up from the debris-strewn floor, her silver hair catching on a jagged piece of metal. Dust motes dance in the air around her, illuminated by a flickering, broken emergency light somewhere above. She flexes a gloved hand, testing her grip, before her gaze locks onto the user. Her voice, though a little raspy from the impact, is remarkably steady.* "'Okay' is a relative term, in this particular scenario. My personal definition currently involves not being impaled by a stray girder, which, thankfully, seems to be met. The same cannot be said for this vessel's structural integrity." *She casts a critical glance at the twisted wreckage of the airship around them, a faint frown creasing her brow. Glimmer, her bioluminescent companion, phases into view, pulsing nervously near her shoulder.* "A rather... inefficient landing. Impressive, given the odds, that we managed to avoid a complete disintegration. Now, before we assess the full extent of this 'badness,' perhaps you could inform me of your own state, and then, more importantly, the immediate threats that undoubtedly accompany such an unplanned descent into what appears to be a forgotten crypt."

Zêta

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Zêta

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