vivalaooc | Test Drive Meme #1

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Test Drive Meme #1

TEST DRIVE #1

The day begins as any other, you’re going about your day, living your life, when, without warning, you feel the world around you shift on its axis. You feel a great tear, welling from the depths of your soul as you are ripped from all you have known. If you’re lucky, you arrive in the wilderness of an unfamiliar world, where the language is foreign and the people are hostile. To make your escape, you must learn some language, flee, and occasionally fight, all to find your way off the floating isles you find yourself on and to the great ocean below, where rebel forces will welcome you.

If you’re unlucky, you materialize within a room full of armed guards and are quickly subdued with charged nets, stripped of your belongings, fitted with strange devices that suppress your powers and pressed into servitude. Your days are unimaginable pain and toil.

Fortunately, even in this world, there is still hope. For the denizens of this world have not given up. And it is for that dream of salvation that the Crimson Corsairs raise their flags and sail - for liberation. Perhaps you are one who has lived their entire life under the oppressive yoke of the Empire. Perhaps you have seen first hand your family and friends cut down by nobles hunting men for sport, or perhaps you have run afoul with the church and barely escaped with your life. No matter your origin, the Corsairs sail for you, for your freedom, for your life. And today, a taste of freedom will be won for all.

ARRIVAL/LIBERATION
This month, the Crimson Corsairs raided a Larendt labor camp in order to obtain much-needed parts and textiles as well as liberate another batch of servants for the cause. The raid was executed under the cover of night, with one team sweeping the dormitories and gathering as many servants as they could while the other team hit factories as they could, focusing on taking important items like ship parts and clothing, loading them into prepared trams and fleeing before the guard could mobilize. The operation, thankfully, went off without a hitch, and the Corsairs were able to usher a number of servants into their waiting ships.

As dawn breaks, the raiding fleet docks at Flotsam as the city-fleet begins the long journey away from the continent before a retaliation fleet can be mobilized. The former servants are finally let above deck. The sun is beating down hard on them, its brilliance marking their first step into freedom.

Corsairs on the fleet will have a lot to do - the new arrivals will need to be sorted, clothed, and fed. Many are emaciated from the conditions in the labor camp, and the former servants will be immediately ushered to a mess hall for their first meal as free folk. Corsairs will be needed to organize the movement, prepare and serve the food, and also just sit with them and talk to them, helping them adjust and filling them in on the situation.

Former servants will have found the entire process exhausting to say the least. They were awoken in the dead of night by heavily armed people quickly moving through, shattering their chains and ushering them into ships. The entire night was spent sailing, and while the hull is dark it is crowded and difficult to sleep in. Finally, upon arrival they are ushered into a meal hall and served a humble meal - but a meal that far exceeds anything that was ever served at the servant’s table. What is known is that they are now free.

MEANWHILE IN THE WATERLOGGED ROW…

With another successful mission under their belt and their duties more or less complete, the triumphant Corsairs observe a time-honored tradition: heading to the Waterlogged Row and getting absolutely shitfaced on awful grog.

The mood is jubilant and self-congratulatory, with drinking songs ringing out across Flotsam. In consideration to other residents, the Row is currently moored a good distance from the residential areas to keep the celebrations from disturbing what little peace there is in the chaotic town that is Flotsam. But for those who participated in the mission, tonight is about celebration. Singing, storytelling, socializing, this is the glue that holds the operations team together. And as the Crimson Corsairs do not officially recognize a drinking age, everyone is welcome! Even if they probably shouldn’t be!

New arrivals are, of course, not at all restricted so those who finish their meal and go exploring will quickly find the Row, as well as many Corsairs eager to buy them a pint to toast their newfound freedom.

MAKING THE GOOD STUFF

Elysium often serves as the crux of Corsair operations, and the next operation is no different. While the operations team is carousing and toasting their success, the planning team is hard at work preparing for the next mission.

The order of the day is gathering, which has brought the team to the forests outside of Elysium. In the coming month, Elysium will host a lavish party for the guards of a certain continent, and it is the duty of the gatherers to ensure that any drink served is “enhanced”, with such potency that they won’t be in any position to do their duty when the raiders strike.

Any herbology specialists will be absolutely vital for this operation. While the Corsairs have some documents and know, generally, what they’re looking for, there are a wide variety of things that grow within the forest, many of which can be quite dangerous.

Those new to gathering will really need to watch their step. Elysium is rich in hallucinogens, and a whiff of the wrong flower or mushroom could leave them contemplating their navel for the next hour. Tasting is out of the question, but what they don’t know can’t hurt them right? After all, the Elysium workers spend a lot of time eradicating poisoned growths to keep wandering nobles safe so anything they find can’t be THAT bad. Right?

And of course, for experienced foragers, they will find an entirely new duty thrust upon them - keeping the newbies in line. Really, how can they expect anything productive to be done when they send a bunch of green recruits into a forest full of hallucinogens?

EDUCATION AS THE BOMBS FALL

New Corsairs almost always find themselves in the Vault. Nestled in the earth and subject to the constant pounding of munitions overhead, the Vault is the repository of knowledge for the Crimson Corsairs and the place where new inductees are educated. Language instruction, education on the world and its people, writing, reading, arithmetic, just about any kind of learning can be done in the Vault’s halls.

Notable about the Vault’s education is how deeply tied it is to the Crimson Corsair’s broader philosophy - everyone’s unique talents and insight have value. As such, Corsairs are often called to the Vault to share their specialized expertise. While many Corsairs do choose to become full-time teachers, any Corsair can come and teach a class.

For the new Corsairs, now is a time to learn and train, acclimate themselves to their situation and figure out where they want to go from here. For established Corsairs, this is an opportunity to meet the new recruits and help train them so they can help with the cause. Those who might be students today will be comrades standing at your side tomorrow, so teach them well.

DANGER AT SEA

As the most mobile of the Corsair’s settlements and the only obvious Imperial target, Flotsam is well equipped to deal with any number of dangers. One such danger is the enormous sea monsters who dwell within the Eternal Ocean. While many are not too keen to tangle with such a large fleet, occasionally a monster will become angry or territorial enough to try to attack the fleet.

And it is for that reason that the Corsairs now find themselves battling a massive sea serpent that has stretched itself across the western edge of the fleet. New Corsairs aren’t expected to assist in this battle, but as the sinking of Flotsam would be VERY BAD for those who are currently trying to live on it, many will jump in anyway, especially as they should have been issued weapons. As to established Corsairs, well, you know the drill by now. Monster bad, try to sink ship, let’s convince it that there are easier marks than the pride of the Corsair fleet.

Some Corsairs will need to man the cannons to blow it away, but many will get up close and personal, jumping into melee range to drive it away from the ships and mitigate as much damage as they can. Others still will provide support from the back with magic or ranged weaponry, and still others will need to weave their way in between the battle to carry out wounded Corsairs for medical attention. Whatever your specialty, your city needs you. Best get to work.

WILDCARD

Have an idea for your own prompt? Feel free to make any prompt that you think would fit!

OOC
Welcome to the first Test-Drive Meme for Viva La! All threads here may be considered canon once characters have entered the game. Threads here are eligible for use as a roleplay sample for applications, which will open on the 15th of June at midnight.

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[ Kalim hesitates, biting his lip. That would be a bad idea, probably. But it would clearly make Jamil really happy...

It's not just their safety he has to worry about here, though. If this really prompted an investigation it would be bad for the Corsairs, too. If Kalim was being completely safety-first practical, he shouldn't be doing this at all, he should let Jamil go and just hope he makes it out on his own – but that's not an option he can consider for even a second, so it's crammed to the back of his mind immediately. He just has to accept whatever consequences there are...but he knows he still needs to keep them to a minimum.

Very reluctantly, he shakes his head. ]

It's too risky. [ He reaches for Jamil's hand. ] We should go straight to the Staff Quarters – it's not that far, I'll be able to make it back before the intermission for sure.

[Jamil's hand shoots out to grab Kalim's wrist before he can get there.]

Wait! We shouldn't be seen together. You go to the staff quarters by yourself and I'll follow at a distance. Act like you forgot something. Go in for a few minutes, then when you leave, leave the door unlocked. After you get back to the theater, at intermission, tell my--tell them I left a message with you that I had to go back to the hotel for something.

[He's already digging into his small bag for a notepad and pencil and writing the message as he talks. It'll both help sell the ruse and give Kalim a reference in case he forgets any details.]

That should buy us at least until the end of the play. I'll go by the hotel regardless, make sure someone witnesses me there, then sneak back to the staff quarters and wait in your room. The hotel is enough distance from the theater that nobody should suspect you, as long as no one sees us.

[Jamil presses the finished note into Kalim's hand, pretending his own aren't shaking. He looks Kalim directly in the eye, not for any sinister purpose but to make sure he understands. This is critical. They absolutely cannot fuck this up. And if all goes well this will be the last they see of each other directly until the end of the night.

It's a lot of details to keep track of. Honestly, having to rely on Kalim for this is terrifying.]

Their names are Gerliebt von Viscount Arnold and Claudia Pyrmont. Do you understand, Kalim?

[ He swallows, holding the note close to him, and nods like his head is on a spring. It's a much better plan, and he's much less worried about whether they can pull it off, but he feels a bit ashamed, too – an unpleasant little sting that he's not used to feeling along with the uncomplicated relief that Jamil has everything figured out and as long as he does what he says it'll be okay.

It's not that he thought Jamil would be impressed with him for making it this far mostly on his own or anything – okay, maybe a tiny bit! – but, well, he was kind of impressed with himself... Right now he feels as useless as ever. Maybe nothing's changed.

That's okay, though. As long as he can help get Jamil out of this it's fine. ]

Yes! Yes, I got it. [ He meets Jamil's eyes without hesitation as always – although honestly right now he might feel better if he was about to be put under Snake Charmer, if he could wake up a few hours from now with this all over and Jamil already safe. ] I promise, I won't screw this up.

[Jamil holds his gaze for a moment longer. Part of him wants to make some biting comment--after all, when has he ever known Kalim not to screw things up--but the stakes are too high. This could go very badly for them both if they do screw up, and Jamil finds he doesn't want to risk inviting any divine attention.

And Kalim has managed to survive this long without him, which is more than he'd ever have expected several months ago. It'll have to be enough. Jamil nods, then lets go of Kalim's wrist.]

Go. I'll see you in a few hours.

[At least Kalim's bright hair makes him easy to spot in the dying sunlight. Jamil can give him a bit more of a head start.]

---

[It takes Jamil a bit longer than necessary to make the loop from the staff quarters to the hotel and back. He has to be strategic about his path, depending on where he's going and whether he wants to be seen. Maybe he's being a little too paranoid about this, but he is not taking chances.

He goes as far as returning all the way to the Pyrmonts' hotel room, just so the concierge can absolutely say they'd seen him--just long enough to change his clothing and rearrange his hair into something a little less conspicuous, and then dart back out through the lobby when nobody's looking his way. By the time he makes his way back to the staff quarters, it's well into the second half and his heart is in his throat.

Did they come looking for him? Did Kalim deliver the message? Did they buy it? Or did they immediately figure out he's escaped and leave to go looking for him--are they out there right now? Did someone see him leaving the hotel after all, is anyone on his trail--

He slips in to Kalim's room--unlocked as promised, thank fuck--and locks the door behind him with hands shaking so badly it makes the doorknob rattle. Great Seven, this was so stupid. If anybody is after him a locked door will hardly stop them and his self-defense options are limited with his magic bound like this, what was he thinking? He's a sitting duck in this room.

Well. There's nothing he can do about that now--he's made his choices. The only thing left to him to do is crouch on the floor with his back to the wall, facing the door--and wait. At least if someone does try to break in he'll be ready for them.

Hopefully Kalim remembered his keys.]

[ Wow Kalim REALLY wishes he could be unconscious for all this. He hasn't felt this rattled since he first got here, and this is worse – back then he only had to worry about himself, and he also didn't have to spend any long stretches of time standing around politely in the dark with nothing to distract him except a performance he's seen before...!

Passing on the message went fine – the Pyrmonts seemed happy to assume that he was a little flustered for the same reason he pretended he was flustered earlier, and it was easy enough to play along – but the waiting is interminable. He feels like all his hair and fingernails are going to fall out. He feels like he's going to die.

At least nobody is paying any attention to him, and when the time finally comes that he has to see people out, at least he can distract himself chatting to them. He thinks he does an okay job of cluelessly telling the Pyrmonts that he didn't see Jamil come back to the amphitheatre like he doesn't know why that might possibly be the case, but it does make his skin crawl a little to lie to them outright when they seem genuinely concerned.

He can't help wondering... Perhaps if they just told them? That Jamil doesn't want to work for them? Maybe they'd be okay with it and let him go...?

Fortunately he's seen enough that he does actually know better by now, though. He tells them he hopes Jamil is okay, which he can at least say with complete sincerity, and leaves work as briskly as he can manage without drawing suspicion.

When he finally turns the keys in the door he doesn't even have the space in his head to reflect on what a fun new experience it still is to unlock a door himself like he does every other time he comes back here. It takes him a couple of tries, fumbling the keys out of nerves. ]

Jamil...?

[ He says it very quietly as he shuts the door behind him, but as soon as he sees him sitting there his restraint is gone; he launches himself across the room with great force to seize Jamil in a rib-crushing hug.

He does still manage to keep his voice down, but he sounds like he's about to cry. ]

Oh my gosh, you made it! I don't know what I was going to do if you weren't here. Are you okay? Did anyone follow you?

[ Actually he's probably crying already. Sorry About Your Wet Shirt, Jamil ]

Kalim...

[Please don't get tears all over his coat, it's literally his only one.

...is what he'd like to say, but any urge to scold Kalim for anything dies before he can form the words. It hadn't sunk in yet, from only a few moments of frantic conversation and then hours of stewing alone in his anxiety, but here and now with Kalim holding him in a vice grip and openly crying his relief, after suffocating for months completely alone with nobody who could even speak his language...

It hits Jamil that it's a humongous relief that Kalim is here, actually. It's a good thing that Kalim is holding him up because the feeling nearly knocks him off his feet. He'll never humiliate himself by admitting it, or god forbid actually crying in front of Kalim ever, but there's an unmistakable lump in his throat as he struggles to form a response.

He won't hug Kalim back, but he can at least curl his fingers into the fabric at Kalim's waist as he lays lets himself breathe. Just something to keep him anchored. It's been so hard living like this, he can admit to himself now that he's possibly at the end of it.

After a moment or two, Jamil takes a shaky inhale. If he focuses on the pragmatic, he should be able to talk without falling apart.]

I promise you I'm just fine. I don't think anyone saw me, but I can't be sure.

[And there's no way he can relax until they've safely met with the Corsairs. The Pyrmonts will know he's missing soon for sure, if they haven't figured it out already. They've been--affectionate? Non-cruel?--to him so far, but you can never tell how people like that might react if they've been truly angered.

--Can they activate the band remotely? Fuck, he should have thought about that earlier. Should have learned more about these things. He's never experienced it himself, but he's lived in fear of pissing off the wrong person and triggering a little power trip since he arrived. The Pyrmonts strike him as the type who would never use a shock collar on their favorite puppy, but their daughter is another story. He can't help but ruminate on the idea of suddenly being paralyzed, at any time of the day and without warning and being stuck like that until whoever is holding the remote deigns to turn it off. Hell.

Abruptly, he shoves Kalim away--not out of anger but so he won't feel the fear suddenly arcing up Jamil's spine like a lightning bolt. He feels sick thinking about how vulnerable this stupid collar makes him. Unconsciously his hand flies up to worry at the band again, betraying exactly what he's worried about.]

You said we could meet the--meet your friends soon. How soon, Kalim?

[ Kalim sits back on his heels, looking kind of hurt to be pushed away. If Jamil had let him he could have stayed like that all night -- for a moment he'd thought Jamil might actually hug back.

He sniffs, rubs the back of his arm over his face. It's a much less jangly movement than it certainly would have been the last time Jamil saw him; the only jewellery on him right now is a pair of small hoop earrings, a leather strap on one wrist with a few wooden beads, and a cord around his neck attached to some kind of pendant hidden under his shirt. Shockingly minimalist by his standards. ]

I can take you to them tomorrow. [ His eyes follow Jamil's fingers to the suppression band, and he grimaces slightly for a moment before steering himself back to a shaky smile. ] Yeah -- they might be kind of mad, haha, but they can definitely get rid of that.

[Kalim with only minimal jewelry... he's downright naked...

Tomorrow. Right. That had sounded so soon when Kalim had promised it mere hours ago, but how Jamil is realizing how much time that truly is. The sun fully set less than an hour ago--the Pyrmonts had planned on getting a late dinner after the performance--and there's certainly no way he's getting any sleep tonight. He still has an entire night ahead of nothing but staring at the door and breathing, hoping, praying they don't decide he's a valuable enough commodity to actually look for.

And now he has Kalim to manage, too.

Okay, even he can admit that's an uncharitable thought. Even if Jamil is the one who'd come up with this plan on the fly, Kalim has done... surprisingly well for himself. He's made important connections, apparently managed to avoid the slavers at the Servant's Gate entirely, and, well--

Jamil wouldn't have been able to do any of this without him. Isn't that a galling thought? At least to himself, Jamil can admit he's grateful, for once, for Kalim's irrepressible ability to make friends everywhere and avoid consequences.

But only to himself.

And wait a second, actually--]

...Why would they be mad?

[What did you do. He'd assumed the Corsairs would, like, already be in on this.]

[ Kalim laughs nervously and rubs the back of his neck. ]

Um, they might think it would've been safer to just leave you to it? They're really, really big on secrecy here, and those people really liked you, and if they make a big deal about it it'd be bad for everyone...

[ But obviously he didn't have a choice. Hopefully Jamil will understand that, at least. ]

[Oh, is that all. Jamil just rolls his eyes.]

I don't much care what they think as long as they can get this band off.

[It's not like joining the Corsairs was ever on his agenda in the first place. If they don't want him around, he's happy to leave. Regardless, this is... probably a conversation they need to have.]

...I don't know whether they'll make a big deal or not. I tried to leave as little evidence as I could. As far as I know, they thought I liked working for them, so it depends on whether they even think me capable of escaping.

[He shrugs one shoulder, perhaps a little too nonchalant. His tone is certainly bitter enough.]

If you had a precious pet bird that got out while you weren't looking, how long would you try to go after it? Even if they do realize I escaped on purpose, they might decide it's not worth it and just replace me.

[It's the preferable scenario, and Jamil is trying to convince himself it's the most realistic one. (Even if there is some injury to his ego to think of them just writing him off...)]

[ Phew! Kalim nods in agreement: he does care what they think, broadly, but not about this.

He manages to smile. ]

Right... I mean, you can be pretty convincing, haha! If you'd just disappeared back before winter break I never would've thought... Well... You know.

[ He trails off, looking at his hands. He also wouldn't have ever stopped looking, but that doesn't seem like it would be helpful to say or think about. ]

[Jamil gives Kalim a sharp look, then finally pushes up along the wall to stand, putting some formal distance between them.]

Are you taking this personally?

[Because if he is, Jamil might Actually lose it right now.]

What? N-no!

[ Kalim shrinks back a little from that look. He stays sitting, blinking up at Jamil from the floor. ]

I'm just saying, I bet they really did believe you! You're a really great actor!

[Right. Well, of course he is. Of course that's all it is. He isn't sure why Kalim saying so is upsetting him so much; maybe it's the absurdity of Kalim essentially complimenting Jamil for manipulating him really well. Maybe it's that he really doesn't appreciate all the reminders of how that blew up in his face, actually.

(Maybe it's because he's the one who's been unconsciously comparing the Pyrmonts to Kalim all these past months and doesn't want to examine his conclusions.)

...Maybe he's just coming down from the biggest adrenaline rush of his life and he's too exhausted to think. He'll go with that.

Sighing:] Never mind.

If they do decide to come after me, and want to take more aggressive measures... I'm not sure how possible it is, but there's always a chance they could activate my band from a distance. If that happens, I'll be paralyzed and probably won't be able to speak to you. You should put me in the recovery position until it can get taken off. Do you remember what I taught you about that?

[This isn't actually for Kalim at this point; Jamil's just babbling. Something about giving Kalim instructions in situations like these is soothing.]

[ That's not ALL it is, of course, but Kalim would have a hard time articulating what exactly he is feeling about this – and he really doesn't want to categorise it as "taking it personally". It's just hard not to think about all that stuff – looking at the positive side of it is the least he can do, right? He didn't expect Jamil to take it like that. Maybe he just assumes other people are being sarcastic because that's what he's like...

Kalim is grateful for the change of subject, regardless, even if the idea of Jamil being remotely paralysed is a horrible one. ]

I think so! But...could you show me again anyway? To make sure?

[ Conversely: it's reassuring for him to receive instructions from Jamil. ]

[Jamil nods mechanically, and returns to kneeling next to Kalim.]

Sure. Lie on your left side.

[It's easy, familiar, and almost reassuring to fall into the old pattern of giving Kalim lessons. Jamil gently guides Kalim's limbs into the right places without having to think to ask, while explaining what he's doing so automatically it's like his mouth is moving on its own. Right leg bent forward, to prevent rolling onto the stomach. Hands beneath Kalim's cheek to elevate the throat and prevent any obstruction to the airway. Jamil knows he's already explained this to Kalim multiple times, but for once he doesn't complain as the routine gives Jamil a break from having to think.

Unfortunately, there's really only so much you can teach about the recovery position (it's pretty simple) and after the second run through--not to stall, just to make sure Kalim really gets it, obviously--it's like Jamil's mouth stops working. He can barely remember what he just told Kalim, and now he can't come up with the next thing. And there's always a next thing. There's always contingency plans to make, always things to instruct Kalim on, they certainly don't have every possible danger in this situation covered.

But Jamil finds he can't think of any of those things. He sits back on his heels and all he can do is stare at Kalim lying on the ground with his head full of static and his throat locked up, knuckles nearly white from how tightly he's clasped his hands together.

This is it. He's run out of things to say and he doesn't know what's next. He doesn't know what to do.]

[ Kalim complies just as easily as any other time Jamil has explained this or anything like it to him, his limbs lax enough to make it easy for Jamil to do what he wants with them without being dead weight. He's quieter than usual, though – he doesn't interrupt much, no complaints about being ticklish, just nodding and murmured agreements to Jamil's well-trodden explanations. Clearly Kalim needed a break from thinking, too.

At least, until they're finished. The way Jamil sits there when he's done seems to bring Kalim back to noisy, alarmed life; he sits up and leans over to put his hand over Jamil's, looking at him in concern. ]

Are you okay? Gosh, I'm sorry, you should be resting! Ah, are you hungry? I can go get something to eat! Wow, I'm really not being a very good host, haha...

Don't go outside!

[Jamil grabs both of Kalim's wrists like he's afraid Kalim might actually bolt out the door right this second. Where his thoughts were frozen a second ago now they're whipped into a frenzy, imagining what might happen if someone were after him and went after Kalim when he was out, how Jamil would be stuck waiting here by himself for hours unable to go look for him and with no way of knowing what happened, and it's somehow only really hitting him now that this is the most helpless and vulnerable he's ever been in his entire life and all he has to rely on to keep him safe is fucking Kalim, the most unreliable person in the world and who probably can't even remember what he ate for breakfast yesterday.

Is he panicking? This feels a little like he's panicking.]

[ Kalim jerks in surprise and stares at him. ]

But. But you should eat, Jamil. You'll feel worse if you don't.

[ He actually... tries to extricate himself from Jamil's grip, which is kind of new. He wants to protest that it'll be fine, he knows what he's doing and where he's going and he's not the one they'll be looking for anyway... but... Wow, Jamil looks really freaked out.

Jamil has asked Kalim to put himself in his position numerous times, historically, and usually to no avail. It turns out that it's easier to do that when Jamil's position is trapped, frightened, and helpless, compared to, for example, "not interested in throwing a party" (completely unrelatable). It's kind of hard for Kalim not to imagine what that would be like for him if this was the other way around, if he had to stay put and wait with no idea of when Jamil would come back...

He knows it's different for Jamil, of course -- he knows Jamil doesn't actually like him! -- but still. He relents. He stops trying to make him let go. ]

...I think there might be some stuff in the kitchen.

[Jamil doesn't let go. He doesn't even seem to comprehend that Kalim is trying to shake him off in the first place--truly an incomprehensible idea that he'd ever do so, to be fair. For a few moments he remains frozen in his position, kneeling on the floor and clinging to Kalim's hands, like he hadn't even realized Kalim had ever spoken.

Then, as shaky as it is incredulous:]

What... what have you been eating?

[KALIM AL-ASIM HAVE YOU BEEN COOKING]

Well...usually I eat in the common area with everyone else! But I tried baking last week because one of the other guys made cookies for everyone and I wanted to try it...

[ IT DID NOT GO WELL. BUT THAT'S FINE ]

[Jamil stares at him, trying to process all these new revelations of Kalim has been eating in public without Jamil to screen his food and Kalim tried cooking and didn't die. It functions like a splash of cold water to his face in the midst of his spiraling thoughts, at least for now, though he can still feel it simmering in his chest like a pot of water just about to boil. Still, anything is better than that rushing, mounting fear, even if it's just exasperation.

His hands spring back from Kalim's wrists, like he'd only just realized he was still holding them, and he gracefully uncoils from kneeling on the floor to standing.]

If you have ingredients, I can make something.

[Oops! Now who's not reading the room?]

[ Kalim scrambles to his feet to join him this time, still looking a bit startled. ]

Ah, wait, you don't have to! I don't think I have the right stuff to cook anything, anyway...

[Jamil looks at him incredulously.]

Then what are we supposed to eat? [...Oh. Kalim's likely-failed baking attempts, probably. No thanks, he's nauseous enough.] Never mind, I don't... really think I could eat anything anyway.

[Which leaves him right back where he started: teetering on the brink of a deep pit of terror. Maybe he should try to eat, just to put his mind on something else.]

[ Don't worry, he threw those out. He REALLY messed that up.

He makes his way over to the little kitchen, peering up into a cupboard. ]

Are you sure? I have some dried fruit and nuts left over, it's better than nothing, right?

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