[ and he's not phased. or- rather. not that he isn't phased, no one could seriously be surviving this and be unconcerned, entirely. but he is steady. as karen panics, as she reaches highs and frantics and lows and then settles back again, he is steady. even as she says wait, even as she speaks like she's the one comforting.

now we wait she says, and even so it takes another second, then two, before she exhales. because there isn't really anything else for them to do, is there? they have to trust this stranger, this man who she barely even saw his face, but she believes that he'll try. that this will work. that they'll get out.

there's a brief moment where she just sort of closes her eyes - she doesn't want to keep looking at the water. she doesn't want to convince herself that anything is getting worse, when it's now far beyond them. they have to trust- and she can. she can trust this man. this stranger out in the hall. just like she's trusting-

his voice catches her and she comes back to the moment, jumping a bit as she's realizing he's trying to... what? talk? have casual conversation? ]

A week or so? But this was my first- [ she huffs a kind of laugh that is a little self-deprecating as she gestures around the room. ] My first fluxdrift, I guess is what they call it. Some luck.

[ there's a pause, and she can't help the way she laughs again, breathily, before shaking her head. it's... god. it's a little embarrassing, how much it helps. how she already feels a little better. she turns, tucking the binder to her chest out of habit and some subconscious need to protect the information, even as there isn't anything else to be done about it. ]

You don't think they're all like this, do you?