Ouch. Even with his ears missing, the sound was god damn painful. Elias unwound the chord wearily, setting aside and deciding to try an alternate note to prepare. So far he had managed to make a little more than an octave on his improvised fortepiano. It was so far an affair that didn't even have keys, he'd make those later. Somewhat of a private and personal project, he had still kept it under wraps for now hiding it under tarps and the likes. Briefly he thought of writing "DO NOT TOUCH" somewhere, but he felt that would only make some of the grubby pawed members of the crew only more interested in rummaging through what he knew he'd be somewhat embarrassed by. 

Leaning back against the wall, the man stared at the ceiling. His situation was improved, much improved since he had first become a crewmate of the China Doll. Truth be told, he was also somewhat glad to be off of Pelorum. Oh sure sun and pretty people was nice but sunburn, and all the salt and all the other things he had lamented about were all items he was glad to be rid of. The news that they'd be going to some new world was welcome and something that interested him. Perhaps some place freezing. Some place that would make everything numb and not feel. Thinking over the thoughts that just came over him Elias gave his own cheek a sleep for thinking something an angsty teen would. No, he just wanted something different. Perhaps somebody already said where they were going, and he hadn't paid attention. He had found himself zoning out more and more, thinking about what he'd do once he fixed himself up and got himself money and got the chance to screw over those bastards who— what was that?

A summons. He stood up, looking up at a toe poking out from his sandals, the digit newly blue from the wrench that he forgot about on his lap falling down. Oh well.

The Mechanic sprayed himself with a few deoderants, knowing full well he smelled like a sweaty pig that took a plunge into motor oil. Ah! Now he smelled a chlorine gas attack with a hint of spearmint. Throwing off his apron and putting on a dusty shirt he made his way over to the galley. Stopping in a hallway, he looked at a fire-alarm. The handle was slack, sticking out the tiniest bit from its resting position. He flicked it a few times, and when no klaxons sounded he grunted. A liability. The sated mood soured, but it didn't matter for now. He simply made his face wraps a little bit less tight to not accent his expression.

Arriving, he looked at the drink set out for him. Cupping a hand over it to hide a bit of himself as he sniffed, it was quickly confirmed what it was. He appreciated the gesture and research into the results of his physiognomy. It was sugary crap full of artificial flavouring he wouldn't have ever consumed before he was mutilated by the reavers. Now though, it was a rare ambrosia in the midst of his new life. But also a reminder of the greater things he ought strive for, like getting a new tongue.

He nodded to the people already there, preferring to stand for now rather than trying to cram himself into a chair.