[Brett hopes that he won't be the one responsible for cleaning this mess up (though if push comes to shove... well, he's used to work, especially considering how lazy the captain could be). As he similarly pulls down his goggles, he shoots her a glance. While he would, unsurprisingly, like to slip away now, he can in fact see the latching mechanism and understands the logic in dealing with it, so.
A tendril of mist extends from his shadows, curling upwards towards the latch and setting in place without Brett otherwise moving. There.]
no subject
A tendril of mist extends from his shadows, curling upwards towards the latch and setting in place without Brett otherwise moving. There.]
...