revivalproject | [accidental video] - open to [action] for anyone on the Vanquish

It's been a week. Or at least- I believe it has been?

[ The feed springs to life with a picture that makes it vastly clear that this isn't an intended transmission. The phone obviously is placed on a flat surface - Likely a table. And its owner can be spotted at the edge of the screen, focused on something else but clearly sounding tired.

Jon gives a heavy sigh and raises a hand to press the tips of his fingers against his forehead. Then he resumes talking, still not appearing to talk to anyone in particular. ]

I don't know how long I've been in that storm. I played back the recordings I made only to find them useless. Mostly static, which is... Unusual? And the most I remember now? Is that headache. That ruthless, skull-splitting headache when I tried--

[ And he cuts himself off right there, dropping his hand and leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. ]

I'm on a space ship. At least that's- That's what I've been told this is. I don't know what I'm even supposed to do here. Unless this is just another dream. A dream that has yet to turn into a nightmare. But I-- I don't remember them to be this... Long? Disconnected from whatever gruesome image they are about to paint?

Needless to say, I didn't sleep. Not that I'm aware of, at least. But what does that even mean anymore...

[ He looks back down, on the table before him - Or much rather at the old tape recorder in his hand. The latter doesn't make much of an appearance visual-wise. ]

I should probably make a proper recording before I run out of tape. This phone I was given has proven remarkably useless for such a task.

[ As he says this, Jon reaches for his phone, still lying on the table. ]

The menu alone is a nightmare to-

[ And then he actually looks at the device, pauses and scowls. ]

Is this what it's going to be now? Christ...

[ That said, he simply turns the phone off without adding anything else. ]

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I had the same problem when I started out... years ago, at this point.

[He waved at the newcomer.]

I have readings, but no recordings either.

Years?!

[ Thanks, friend. Because he totally needs more things to keep him from getting some sleep. ]

I mean--

[ Just give him a spare second to prioritize this. ]

What... kind of readings do you speak of?

Well, in space and on various ships. Not here. I have only been here about ... well. Ten months.

[He cleared his throat.]

Readings. Of the storm?

You measured it?

[ Leaving the talk about spending months or years in alien places aside. ]

What results did you get?

Yes I did. I wanted to see if I could find a way to see where the storm came from ... and whether or not I could stop them.

Not ... so much.

[He tapped his screen.]

From what I have been able to see, the storm purposefully follows a pattern. I am working out what that pattern is, though.

...purposefully. I see. That's... Disconcerting.

[ He's no weather expert by any means, but Jon is well aware that weather isn't supposed to do anything purposefully. ]

I take it you have experience with analyzing weather phenomena such as these storms. As my own expertise lies in a different field, my input on the matter may not be quite as valid, but I will still offer my assistance in researching them should it be needed.

I've seen things like this happen before - but that is when there is some sort of malfunctioning planet terraforming ...

[Which might honestly be the case here as well, huh.]

I have some very basic experience, but I always need help going over data, Mister?

Sims. Jonathan Sims. I used to do research in supernatural artifacts and events. As I said, it's a very different field, but we did cross into pretty much any other science at one point or another.

[ If only to utterly disprove something. Those were the good times. ]

Did you? Well, you are going to find plenty to keep you busy here, my friend.

[Tyrion exhaled with a wry smile.]

This place is filled with supernatural artifacts and events.

Marvelous.

[ This single word somehow manages to be spoken in a tone dry enough to make it audibly appear to be covered with a thick layer of dust. ]

I can't wait to find out how many of them want to kill me.

[ As he's already been kidnapped by this place alone, that's not really something he bothers to expect any longer. ]

[Tyrion's lips twitched upwards, and he gave a half-bow of amused acknowledgement.]

Only about half? That seems to be the maths.

[He sighed deeply, running one hand through his hair, making the blonde curls stick up more.]

That's a better ratio than what I'm used to.

[ Well, it's true. ]

May I ask your name?

... I am starting to think it is lucky you showed up here, ser.

[Ah right.]

My manners, I apologize. My name is Lord Tyrion Lannister, but everyone just calls me Tyrion.

Lucky.

[ Have a short, dreary huff with that. It's followed by a nod, though. ]

Very well, Lord Tyrion. I have no notes or noteworthy observations to share at this moment. But if you have any warnings for one not used to this city, I am very inclined to hear those.

Well, something like.

[He smirked faintly, before he looked over at the readings.]

I will let you see my notebook.

That would be helpful. Thank you.

[ Not that he has any idea as of what to expect, but hey. He'll take it. ]

You are quite welcome - I hope to meet you face to face.

We can arrange that. Whenever the time is... Acceptable for you.

Well, after my child is born, absolutely.

Your child?

Here?!

[ If this were an in-person conversation, that single-word question just might be pulsating with accidental compulsion. Physical distance can do wonders. ]

Yes ... my wife got pregnant .... 'here'!?

[Yes, he is going to put the quotation marks around it.]

[ Those are nice quotation marks, indeed. Though they aren't the reason why Jon falls silent for some time, lips pressed into a thin line. There are too many potential problems for his liking and he really doesn't want to touch onto them all. So he steadies his voice instead. ]

Aren't you... Worried?

[Tyrion is silent for a moment.]

I am ... terrified, but if you can believe this, the world we come from is much, much worse than this.

...I see.

[ It's spoken softly. A reaction to the acknowledgement of fear. Something Jon will remind himself to stay mindful of should they meet in person.

He exhales. ]

How can it possibly be worse, though? This planet. It lies in ruins.

Well ... a world with a war on two fronts, and all the innocents caught in the middle of a lot of politics and murder.

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