...oh.

[ nearly thirteen months. a year, and then even more. it's weird - it's not like that that's that long, after all. but it's longer than summer camp, and it's even longer than summer camp for the bad kids like him, and that's what really hammers in that he's stuck here. away from the captain and group south, which is objectively a pretty good thing, and away from jupiter and neptune, which makes his throat get tight and his heartbeat fast and his stomach get cold and anxious.

he won't say it. boys aren't supposed to say that kind of thing, after all. but he misses them already. ]

I'm not really good with my hands, though. [ a beat - and then he just keeps talking. ] I'm okay with radios, I guess. It's about the only thing I can do. But even this arm is a lot different than a radio, and I probably put a gear or two back wrong already. Or maybe cleaning it is a lot trickier than I thought, and I'm just getting even more sand and oil everywhere and breaking something someone needs.

[ he doesn't sound like he's trying to hold a pity-party, at least. he just... sounds like he's trying to explain, a bit glumly. ]

I guess if you needed, I could help look at radios? I can probably do that much, at least.