Actually he means 'I was never a drill sergeant but I've met some and I could destroy you completely in ten minutes,' but this is the consequence for making innuendo as often as he does do it.
"Come downstairs. I have programs and stuff for it," Jedao tells him, putting the FRIENF mug into the sink - then after a second of realzing Roman definitely isn't going to wash it himself, rinsing it for a few seconds before he turns to go.
Roman doesn't bat an eye when Jedao does--it's kindness but a type that Roman doesn't even think to thank, he's so used to it--and he's already making his way out of his room.
"And maybe some more of that tea?" he asks hopefully.
It's a few floors down, and Jedao's room is, in a quiet, off-kilter way, not unlike Roman's. There's the same sense classy quality to things, an elegance to the way everything goes together, even though Jedao's room is all gentle greens and pale wood instead of monochrome and glass.
Jedao throws one of the couch cushions on the floor in front of the large screen of the wall terminal.
"It's going to take a couple minutes for the tea to steep. Sit there and watch the screen. Try to notice everything you can."
The image on the screen is beautiful, intricate, and strange. It's an underwater scene, with glimmering tropical fish moving in and out of a maze of coral and roots. Some are alone, some moving in huge, smoothly coordinated schools.
"But it's just some fish," Roman says the moment he sits down, clearly confused.
But sure, he can do this hippie dippie bullshit. He asked for it, and he trusts Jedao not to make fun of him. So he sits in the familiar elegant cube of a cabin, breathing out.
"Keep doing it until I finish the tea," Jedao says, just a tiny bit dryly.
"Try to just...let everything else you're holding and feeling shitty about fall away. Let the water pour into you. There's just the water and the fish. There's no space for other stuff."
This really, really is stupid. He doesn't know why he asked. Roman thinks meditation's the dumbest thing in the universe, always has--it's hippie bullshit, it's yoga and oat milk lattes, it's universal health care and tarot card readings--and he doesn't quite understand how you can just allow the weight of everything to slough off because you're staring at some bubbles.
But he quiets down at least, and focuses on what's in front of him. The anxiety, the worry, the fucking vice grip of uncertainty that's consistently battering him, even before his dad and even before he came onto this ship? It doesn't go away but he finds himself just.... not thinking about it.
Not thinking about anything, really, except what Jedao said. Just what's in front of him.
A quiet Roman is always a strange thing, and his posture's shit, but it looks like Roman's actively zoning out in a way that's very similar to what Jedao described.
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[Jedao gives him an absolutely evil grin.]
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[ Oh, wait, unless he means that exercise--Roman gets the joke a split second too late, and points. ]
You fucking dick.
Fine, then. Teach me how to, you know. "Meditate"
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"Come downstairs. I have programs and stuff for it," Jedao tells him, putting the FRIENF mug into the sink - then after a second of realzing Roman definitely isn't going to wash it himself, rinsing it for a few seconds before he turns to go.
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"And maybe some more of that tea?" he asks hopefully.
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It's a few floors down, and Jedao's room is, in a quiet, off-kilter way, not unlike Roman's. There's the same sense classy quality to things, an elegance to the way everything goes together, even though Jedao's room is all gentle greens and pale wood instead of monochrome and glass.
Jedao throws one of the couch cushions on the floor in front of the large screen of the wall terminal.
"It's going to take a couple minutes for the tea to steep. Sit there and watch the screen. Try to notice everything you can."
The image on the screen is beautiful, intricate, and strange. It's an underwater scene, with glimmering tropical fish moving in and out of a maze of coral and roots. Some are alone, some moving in huge, smoothly coordinated schools.
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But sure, he can do this hippie dippie bullshit. He asked for it, and he trusts Jedao not to make fun of him. So he sits in the familiar elegant cube of a cabin, breathing out.
"I just--I just treat it like it's TV?"
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Jedao's fucking weird.
But Roman's going to at least try, because Jedao says it helps. He inhales, is quiet for a few seconds, and....
"Then what?"
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"Try to just...let everything else you're holding and feeling shitty about fall away. Let the water pour into you. There's just the water and the fish. There's no space for other stuff."
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But he quiets down at least, and focuses on what's in front of him. The anxiety, the worry, the fucking vice grip of uncertainty that's consistently battering him, even before his dad and even before he came onto this ship? It doesn't go away but he finds himself just.... not thinking about it.
Not thinking about anything, really, except what Jedao said. Just what's in front of him.
A quiet Roman is always a strange thing, and his posture's shit, but it looks like Roman's actively zoning out in a way that's very similar to what Jedao described.
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