smartass_captain

From:

"I'll have to figure something else out for this arrangement once the ship's good to go, but I'll be damn glad to get off this colony. As much of a marvel as it is, I don't belong on the ground. Any ground. Artificial or not."

Being stuck in one spot has gotten underneath Jim's skin. An itch he can't scratch no matter how hard he tries. Visiting Tamriel is a decent distraction, same with the Nexus. But at the end of the day he comes back to the same barren apartment without the usual hum of the engines underfoot and the same patch of sky overhead.

Jim nods at Isidor's mention of training as a distraction. Her work doesn't run the gamut of a twenty-four hour day cycle so she doesn't get any easy outs there.

"We have shifts at all hours of the day, so I can pretty easily sign myself up for a double if I'm feeling particularly wired. There's a gym on the ship obviously but I don't always want to worry about other people seeing me. The crew can't see their captain a second away from losing his shit."

The book in Isidor's hands isn't written in any Earthen script, though some of the letters may be familiar to her from their time in the Imperial Capital, however brief. Marcella's ledgers and the signs would have carried the same lettering. When Harrowheart comes into the discussion Jim makes an audible noise, soft though it may be, of annoyance and puts the cup to his lips to drink instead of saying the first thing that comes to mind. Just because Jim and he aren't on speaking terms at the moment doesn't mean he should be rude about him to his...girlfriend? Don't think about the logistics of that right now Jim.

Don't.

"I can't say I blame you though. Talking to him can be difficult sometimes." That's a more diplomatic way of putting it. Stop thinking about it, Jim.