"Need a light?" The winged creature eats a limestone above Patches and flickers his flint nails. Barreling forth flame from the fossil fuel of the rock he'd just chewed. Within the hollowed-out bones of his first two fingers. The punk below was irritated by the silhouette lapsing his vision to a blur. "No, and stop hovering. You are making me nauseous," He says in a belligerent manner in likeness to how smashed he was the night before. Batting at his feet covered in soot and sod. In the air he chuckles, thinking about how he spent yesterday foraging throughout the village. Dead legged by the punk, "Fuck, I'm down. I'm down." The spiked-haired punk named Patches, feeling sloshed beyond slush ignores the inexplicable bipedal as he would anyone else. To him, he's just another blurred face that matches the rest.  "Just an offer. Thought you were a smoker." Swooping down beside him, he walks alongside casually. Putting his hands in his...

          The hatch releases steam, blown out by the loss of pressure. Along with the door up into the vast distance hitting with less of a sound than a sledgehammer. More like a suppressed cinder block dampened by the earplugs you'd have at work. The kid knew this but the Alien didn't. Jumping with the drop of his wings up into the air landing on what he remembered as having a lighter disposition.      "I didn't crash, I skidded." Rev shrugs at his tilted spaceship, wondering if it'll ever fly again. "You look a little dishevelled for someone who should be positively shaking." says the child bewildered by the disastrous landing and the angelic being in front of him.  The scuttled prototype of an air speeder intermeshed into a schematic of the spaceship, Solaris. A solar turbine that relied mainly on the rotation of stars and their brightness. Along with the other collected masses to gain a sense of trajectory.  Air and scale determ...