[ midnight passes kaveh his screwdriver. even in the slanting, uncertain light, his touch on the back of kaveh's hand is sure. it's a pat, kaveh thinks, a tactile bit of communication. it's one-way. there's an inference kaveh can draw from this, though he supposes that the inference he will draw is that midnight is rather true to his name. his ability to see in the dark is remarkable. he must have good eyes. it sort of makes kaveh envious; it would make the exploration of king deshret's lost tunnels and ruins far easier if kaveh didn't have to navigate by dendro light, and therefore be at risk of alarming every sentry in existence still buried beneath the sands.

still, he hums as he twirls the screwdriver between his fingers, his gaze considering the fall of light and shadow and his angle of attack. ]

A hand would be welcome. Here, hold this up at an angle. Try not to have the light catch my shoulder. [ kaveh passes down the flashlight. and then, with deft fingers, begins to work at the first screw.

still: ] And... oh, what makes you think that, actually? You know more people than I do. There's that Sylvain fellow, and he lives with that Dimitri fellow, doesn't he? Now you've two. I'm happy to volunteer myself, so that's three... [ a screw pops from his holding. kaveh presses it into the palm of his hand as he braces the light with the other. he start on the second. ] And there were plenty of other kind respondents on that bulletin post as well. And that Operator Broca fellow. Couldn't you ask them? Some of the other ones were clearly willing to help you without knowing you besides the drunk and the naked part; they'll be willing hands for just about anything else.