"You've reached the inbox of Jeremiah Gottwald. I'm unavailable at the moment, but leave a message and I'll return your call as soon as possible. Thank you."
That gets a smile spreading back across his face. "A wise place to start. All right, I'll trust you."
Jeremiah doesn't seem terribly sure of his footing, but he steps up onto the blade next to him and manages not to psyche himself out enough to wobble, unsure what to expect until he's there. Just in case, his hand remains clasped around Zichen's, the contact rather comfortable beyond helping stabilize him. So far, so good.
Zichen keeps his fingers wrapped around Jeremiah's, giving him time to adjust to the position before the sword moves. Zichen stops though, once they're outside, glancing at Jeremiah.
The shift from standing still to moving gets him to lurch just the slightest, but Jeremiah doesn't tip them over. Funny enough, the jut of his tail out behind him helps his balance more than he realized, ears perked high in slight alarm. The ride itself, however, is so perfectly smooth that he barely needs the help.
His pulse feels fast, but once they're out of the hangar doors, he glances down at Zichen with his eyes a little wider than normal from the suggestion rather than his own nerves.
"No, we can remain on here. It's plenty stable," he reasons. It's a thrilling novelty beyond that, but he's trying not to act a gawping fool.
Funny that he's flown so many times, scaled heights and jumped from his Fortress all the way to the ground, yet his stomach still flips as they rise up higher. It's just different, only them and open air and a sliver of perfect stability beneath them. They don't falter once. The view is stunning above all, not at all like seeing it through monitors or even sensors, and he can't tear his eyes off it.
Jeremiah's hand finds its way to Zichen's shoulder at some point, hard pressed to say when exactly. It's still there when he responds. "If you didn't have any destination in mind. Siegfried will be fine, either way."
The hand on his shoulder doesn't make him falter, bringing the sword back towards the hangar.
"I didn't really." He answers after a moment, only really turning to look at him once they're back in the hangar, his gaze focusing on Jeremiah's face.
His hair is a little windswept once they land, eye wide, but he can't wipe the grin from his face. For all that he aims for propriety, there's no hiding the adrenaline rush he loves.
"I'm sure I will. Thank you, Zichen, for that experience."
Only then does he hop off, wobbling only a hair and pulling that hand away once he's on solid ground.
"...I will admit to being curious about your...Siegfriend." A little concerned, maybe given he's seen it in the air before but being inside it does seem like something worth experiencing, at least once.
"If you don't mind, I have nothing demanding my time."
"Nor do I," he grins wider. Jeremiah's rather wanted the chance to share the experience, and it sounds far more interesting than staying and seeing how many square feet of metal he can polish.
"Then let us do so." He turns towards the stairway up the catwalk, but then looks back to Zichen. "The hatch is on top. We could take the stairs, or we could utilize your sword for a moment longer and fly up."
He considers for a moment before unsheathing his sword again and once Jeremiah is on, taking them up to the top of Siegfried, sheathing it again once they're standing by the hatch.
He takes his place next to him with far more confidence this time, hand alighting once more on Zichen's shoulder until they reach the top. Once they do, Jeremiah steps down onto the green plate at the front, standing before a circular divot in the center large enough for a person.
Once his feet are aligned just so, the hatch opens in a series of several shutters, a platform risen up for him to step on. He waits, turning to Zichen and gesturing at it. It's odd when he thinks out the logistics of bringing someone in here, but he's never done this before. His ride can easily hold two, it just wasn't programmed to be.
"The platform will begin moving once I step on it, so you should get on first."
Admittedly, the way the thing moves once they're on top has him eyeing it a little warily before he moves to step onto the platform as instructed, turning to face Jeremiah once he's standing there.
"How can it tell the difference between you and me?"
"There are sensors underneath," he begins, wondering how much to say now. Well, he is about to show Zichen how he controls this thing, so he ought to. "It can feel weight, but it needs to be activated by the one... well, in my foot."
He taps his left thigh, the leg more heavily reconstructed, indicating as to which. His smile has grown lopsided, which fits a mounting sense of awkwardness. When he steps on the platform with him it brings them terribly close, and a moment later they begin to descend.
"This craft is... very specialized. I've been modified with similar machinery to control it to its fullest capabilities."
He doesn't really understand what Jeremiah's saying about the sensors but it having something t do with his foot is clear enough, his gaze dropping to the leg in question before returning to his face.
When Jeremiah mentions being modified though, it has him eyeing the other man, his expression somewhat confused.
"I don't really understand what that means." When he finally responds, his head turning to look at the inside of the craft as they descend.
Inside, it's more spacious than most. The cockpit itself is really just a room; no seat, no windows, no controls, lit up in orange from the floor beneath them and the circuit-like lines cutting across the walls. Once fully descended, Jeremiah turns to the back, where thick cables hang loosely coiled.
"They performed surgery on me, outfitted my body with mechanical parts," he says rather mildly, hoping to clarify without it being too gruesome. To that point, the back of his jacket opens up like a sliding panel, the flexible material more than just fabric. Underneath is metal plating, and three large, circular sockets down his spine. The end of one cable in hand, Jeremiah smiles over his shoulder and reaches around, plugging it in with a heavy click.
"Most of these crafts are controlled by hand in some way, just like any other vehicle. I'm able to become a part of my machine, which gives me the advantage of controlling it with my mind."
It's an odd sight, watching Jeremiah connect himself to the things coming out of the walls of the craft, as he'd called it, and Zichen is silent, his expression pensive as he studies his friend.
But with the comment about controlling it with his mind, it seems somewhat similar to how they handle their swords. "...Were you badly injured or was it a choice you made?"
It's odd indeed. Jeremiah may not be watching his face, but he seems to take the process in stride.
"I was injured," he states rather plainly. The other two cables fit in without any trouble, and once connected he straightens, everything around them beginning to hum soft and low. "So I was a good candidate for a pilot, given that medical and technological intervention were already needed simply to save my life."
Leaving the lack of choice when this all started unspoken.
"So this...alteration was to save your life." An acceptable reason, although it still has him eyeing the cables for a moment before his gaze shifts to Jeremiah's face again.
"So this isn't common where you come from? I mean, this sort of alteration and means of making this craft move?"
"Partially, yes." Some pieces, like the ports on his spine, do nothing of the sort, but he'd rather leave it at that for the sake of a joyride remaining just that.
Siegfried finally lurches into motion, rising up and gliding in one direction. Presumably it's to the hangar doors, but no display shows in the cockpit itself. "And it is not common, no. As far as I know, I'm the only person modified to such an extent."
It's a strange feeling, having this move around him but really feeling almost nothing of it aside from the initial lurch. Swords are a useful tool for faster travel but something like this?
"I see." When his focus returns to the conversation. "It's strange to me but nothing I can't become accustomed to. I just wasn't aware it was even possible before this conversation."
"Technology has accomplished incredible things in my time," Jeremiah can't help agreeing, grinning wider. For all his morbid sentiments about it, he also carries pride in what he's endured, everything he can do with that power. "It's awe-inspiring in a way, even being in the middle of all of it."
The unfocused look in his eyes sharpens as he glances to Zichen, then ahead. "Ah, right. The walls aren't much to look at, are they?"
With a flicker of thought, a projection lights up in front of them, displaying the view out the hangar doors. Rather rudimentary as compared to other Knightmares, but at least they'd put one in at all as backup.
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"And no, you won't affect my balance. I've done this before. The sword will be steady and I won't allow you to fall."
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Jeremiah doesn't seem terribly sure of his footing, but he steps up onto the blade next to him and manages not to psyche himself out enough to wobble, unsure what to expect until he's there. Just in case, his hand remains clasped around Zichen's, the contact rather comfortable beyond helping stabilize him. So far, so good.
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"We can walk if you'd rather."
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His pulse feels fast, but once they're out of the hangar doors, he glances down at Zichen with his eyes a little wider than normal from the suggestion rather than his own nerves.
"No, we can remain on here. It's plenty stable," he reasons. It's a thrilling novelty beyond that, but he's trying not to act a gawping fool.
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He does wait another moment before they're moving again over the roofs of the buildings.
"Do you want me to take you back to the hangar so you can finish what you were doing?"
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Jeremiah's hand finds its way to Zichen's shoulder at some point, hard pressed to say when exactly. It's still there when he responds. "If you didn't have any destination in mind. Siegfried will be fine, either way."
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"I didn't really." He answers after a moment, only really turning to look at him once they're back in the hangar, his gaze focusing on Jeremiah's face.
"If you ever want to go again, just ask."
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"I'm sure I will. Thank you, Zichen, for that experience."
Only then does he hop off, wobbling only a hair and pulling that hand away once he's on solid ground.
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"You're very welcome." There's a small bow, his hands clasped before he straightens again.
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"Perhaps I can extend the offer in turn, if you'd like to ride in the Siegfried sometime," he begins, persistent smile growing. "Or now, if you wish."
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"If you don't mind, I have nothing demanding my time."
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"Then let us do so." He turns towards the stairway up the catwalk, but then looks back to Zichen. "The hatch is on top. We could take the stairs, or we could utilize your sword for a moment longer and fly up."
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Once his feet are aligned just so, the hatch opens in a series of several shutters, a platform risen up for him to step on. He waits, turning to Zichen and gesturing at it. It's odd when he thinks out the logistics of bringing someone in here, but he's never done this before. His ride can easily hold two, it just wasn't programmed to be.
"The platform will begin moving once I step on it, so you should get on first."
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"How can it tell the difference between you and me?"
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He taps his left thigh, the leg more heavily reconstructed, indicating as to which. His smile has grown lopsided, which fits a mounting sense of awkwardness. When he steps on the platform with him it brings them terribly close, and a moment later they begin to descend.
"This craft is... very specialized. I've been modified with similar machinery to control it to its fullest capabilities."
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When Jeremiah mentions being modified though, it has him eyeing the other man, his expression somewhat confused.
"I don't really understand what that means." When he finally responds, his head turning to look at the inside of the craft as they descend.
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"They performed surgery on me, outfitted my body with mechanical parts," he says rather mildly, hoping to clarify without it being too gruesome. To that point, the back of his jacket opens up like a sliding panel, the flexible material more than just fabric. Underneath is metal plating, and three large, circular sockets down his spine. The end of one cable in hand, Jeremiah smiles over his shoulder and reaches around, plugging it in with a heavy click.
"Most of these crafts are controlled by hand in some way, just like any other vehicle. I'm able to become a part of my machine, which gives me the advantage of controlling it with my mind."
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But with the comment about controlling it with his mind, it seems somewhat similar to how they handle their swords. "...Were you badly injured or was it a choice you made?"
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"I was injured," he states rather plainly. The other two cables fit in without any trouble, and once connected he straightens, everything around them beginning to hum soft and low. "So I was a good candidate for a pilot, given that medical and technological intervention were already needed simply to save my life."
Leaving the lack of choice when this all started unspoken.
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"So this isn't common where you come from? I mean, this sort of alteration and means of making this craft move?"
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Siegfried finally lurches into motion, rising up and gliding in one direction. Presumably it's to the hangar doors, but no display shows in the cockpit itself. "And it is not common, no. As far as I know, I'm the only person modified to such an extent."
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"I see." When his focus returns to the conversation. "It's strange to me but nothing I can't become accustomed to. I just wasn't aware it was even possible before this conversation."
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The unfocused look in his eyes sharpens as he glances to Zichen, then ahead. "Ah, right. The walls aren't much to look at, are they?"
With a flicker of thought, a projection lights up in front of them, displaying the view out the hangar doors. Rather rudimentary as compared to other Knightmares, but at least they'd put one in at all as backup.
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"So this is how you see?"
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