He squints at the sunbeam of an ashtray and tilts it in his hand. His nerves are still trying hard to jangle but they're doing it from a distance, and good riddance.
This is utility, he decides, flipping that switch with an ease that would surprise him if he let himself think about it. Useful for his duties, helpful for Alan's fears, far from the weirdest thing he's ever done, a long way from the worst thing he's ever choked down.
He's on the verge of asking how to close the conduit-- but it seems, in fact, intuitive to reverse the push, like breathing in again after breathing out. And the light winks out of the ashtray.
John, on the other hand, beams. Charlie getting a hang for it, a feel for it- hopefully it will translate to him having a good understanding of when or if something's being meddled with so he'll be able to keep his feet under him more often when it comes up.
"It seems like you have a pretty good handle on the concepts so far. Would you like to try another one?"
Charlie stares at the ashtray for another second, lowkey gobsmacked. Then he puts it gently down and looks at John. The faint suggestion of an intrigued grin is there at the corners of his mouth, almost looking confused to be there.
"You bet," he says evenly, more sure about it this time. The pressing question, now that they've broken the seal on the idea, is how much wild shit he can do here that he had no idea about. "Whaddaya got on deck?"
John's going to hold up a hand, do a gesture, and speak a word, at which point a black clawed spectral hand with tattered yellow fabric around the wrist appears in front of him. He winces a little before turning his hand towards it.
"You can use this to pick up or manipulate small things, nothing over five pounds or so, but it's still pretty helpful. You can open a door or move a pan. Little simple things."
He'll pull his communicator out of his pocket and hold it out for the hand to take and bring over to Charlie. He will have him put it down on the counter instead of expecting him to touch it.
"...the appearance tends to... have something to do with the caster."
"I figured," drawls Charlie, who mostly kept his startle under wraps when the spectral hand appeared.
"Give me that word and the-- hand wriggle again?"
And when John does, he'll try it, pushing the same intent into it as before until -- like someone trying to whistle -- he gets the shape of it perfect and a hand appears in the air between them. It's ghostly, but, thank goodness, it's human-looking.
"That's somethin'," says Charlie, impressed, because it's-- oh, that's weird. He moves the ghostly hand at the same time as his real one, then moves the former... somewhat separately, though his real fingers twitch as he tries to separate out the-- what? The brain signals?
He's wearing a look of intense concentration as he does this, staring at the hand like someone trying to hook a particularly tricky duck at the fair.
"Come on, you little bastard," he coaxes it, and flashes a grin as he successfully crooks most of its fingers without pulling his physical fingers along with them.
"Ah, so I'm seein' the secrets behind the curtain."
The jokey jokes do absolutely nothing to hide how fascinated he is as he starts to move the hand about in the air, still echoed faintly in movements of his flesh-and-blood hand.
Congrats, Charlie. He's not going to say much of anything else. He's just going to grunt in the affirmative and watch Charlie fiddle with the hand as he learns the basics of using it.
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He squints at the sunbeam of an ashtray and tilts it in his hand. His nerves are still trying hard to jangle but they're doing it from a distance, and good riddance.
This is utility, he decides, flipping that switch with an ease that would surprise him if he let himself think about it. Useful for his duties, helpful for Alan's fears, far from the weirdest thing he's ever done, a long way from the worst thing he's ever choked down.
He's on the verge of asking how to close the conduit-- but it seems, in fact, intuitive to reverse the push, like breathing in again after breathing out. And the light winks out of the ashtray.
"I'll be goddamned," he says softly.
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"It seems like you have a pretty good handle on the concepts so far. Would you like to try another one?"
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"You bet," he says evenly, more sure about it this time. The pressing question, now that they've broken the seal on the idea, is how much wild shit he can do here that he had no idea about. "Whaddaya got on deck?"
no subject
"You can use this to pick up or manipulate small things, nothing over five pounds or so, but it's still pretty helpful. You can open a door or move a pan. Little simple things."
He'll pull his communicator out of his pocket and hold it out for the hand to take and bring over to Charlie. He will have him put it down on the counter instead of expecting him to touch it.
"...the appearance tends to... have something to do with the caster."
no subject
"Give me that word and the-- hand wriggle again?"
And when John does, he'll try it, pushing the same intent into it as before until -- like someone trying to whistle -- he gets the shape of it perfect and a hand appears in the air between them. It's ghostly, but, thank goodness, it's human-looking.
"That's somethin'," says Charlie, impressed, because it's-- oh, that's weird. He moves the ghostly hand at the same time as his real one, then moves the former... somewhat separately, though his real fingers twitch as he tries to separate out the-- what? The brain signals?
He's wearing a look of intense concentration as he does this, staring at the hand like someone trying to hook a particularly tricky duck at the fair.
"Come on, you little bastard," he coaxes it, and flashes a grin as he successfully crooks most of its fingers without pulling his physical fingers along with them.
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"I use it for cooking sometimes. Or for getting the door."
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The jokey jokes do absolutely nothing to hide how fascinated he is as he starts to move the hand about in the air, still echoed faintly in movements of his flesh-and-blood hand.
no subject