driftfleet | Twins, assemble!

A. [this is another one of those months where Nel is not home very often. especially with how the new bunk setup has quietly been getting to him, he's tried to find other sleeping arrangements as often as possible. but paying for rooms himself is expensive, and he can't always find someone else willing to shack up with him for the night. so, he's sometimes found on the ship... sleeping anywhere but in his own room. most often, it's curled up in the comms chair with a blanket... but he does show up in other peoples' rooms now and again, when he's mostly sure they won't be using it. he tries to only steal short naps, but he's pretty partied out. you better believe he'll be zonked out longer than he means to every once in a while.]

B. [and when he's not sleeping, he's running through his usual fast routine of showering, primping his fancy new blue hair, and wolfing down whatever he can find in the kitchen--now with the additional step of taking care of the brand new healing tattoos on his arms. he can be bumped into in any stage of this routine, as he's buzzing around and trying to scurry out of there in a timely manner. he doesn't have anywhere particularly important to be, but falling into the rhythm of it is a pretty strong habit by now.]

[Fenris is an occasional visitor to the Three Twins, whenever he feels the need to visit Dorian in his own ship. He's never especially happy here. The mage's crew either makes him feel uncomfortable or annoyed (or both) and he tends to keep to himself.

There are times, when the nightmares plague his sleep more than usual, that he leaves Dorian's bed in favour for sitting in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea and willing his body to grow tried enough to sleep again, to get a few scant hours of sleep before the nightmares begin again.

He's sitting in the kitchen on such a night now, making note of Nel as he arrives for food. ]

...You have changed your hair.

[And done...something to his arms, Fenris frowns, looking at them, trying to place them. ]

[and, of course, Nel has managed to miss these occasional visits until now. normally, his comings and goings during the quiet hours of the ship allow him to dodge most of the activity. so, it isn't until his milling about happens to coincide with a bout of nightmares that their paths finally cross.

and when it happens, Nel is kind of stunned.

slowing to a sudden stop in the doorway, there's a moment where he does nothing but blink. automatically, he double-checks a few things in his head--he's in his own ship, he really is seeing this, and this really is Fenris. and that's really as far as his thoughts get, with the gears all suddenly jammed up.]

...What are you doing here?

[Fenris notices Nel's reaction, but doesn't comment on it. Instead, he heaves out an annoyed sigh. ]

I am visiting Dorian. I have done so on more than one occasion.

[He's...placing those tattoos. ]

You had those tattoos before...

Dorian...?

[and all he can think of, the thing that hits his brain before anything logical even tries to get in, is the fact that Fenris is dangerous and hates mages. whether Fenris knows what Dorian is or not, whatever his intentions might be, all Nel can see is something bad happening very soon.

he doesn't take a step in any direction, but the shift in mental gear is visible. still in the doorway, his weight leans back onto his other foot, like he's getting ready to run. maybe alert his crew of the violent intruder. he may not normally have a violent, protective bone in his body... but everything changes a little bit when he allows himself to get angry. and that is beginning to happen right now.]

You can't just show up here. This is where I live.

Yes. Dorian. I'm sure you've met him.

[His eyes narrow, his own defences going up at Nel's attitude. A scowl crosses his face, his shoulders tensing.]

Do not presume you can tell me what I can and cannot do.

[and the response is there in his head in an instant, and out of his mouth before he can think--immediately snapped back at him with a hateful little glare.]

--Well, someone should!

[That was the worst thing Nel could ever had said to him. Fenris stands, slamming his cup of tea down onto the table. ]

No. [He practically growls his words out. ] Not a soul has that right. I earned my freedom, and my choices are my own, and no one else's. One day, you may get it through your skull and understand that your-

[His eyes widen, the realisation is coming now.]

Those are the markings you had as a slave. Did he take you again?

[There's murder in his tone. If Robin owns Nel once more, he is going to make sure Robin won't get up from his next attack. Ever. ]

They're not his!

[he's lightheaded with adrenaline already--the violence in Fenris' voice, the uncomfortable rush of his own anger--but he's not stopping. it's a horrible feeling, he's terrified in the face of it, but it almost feels right somehow. things had gone quietly for too long. it has been too nice, too false... and now things on the outside are finally matching up with how he's been feeling on the inside.

his stomach is sinking. he automatically edges back toward the wall and, like he tends to do when he gets upset, drops into elven.]

It's none of your business anyway.

[Fenris hates that this places makes him understand elven, that a small part of his brain tells him that's what it is, but puts the right words into him anyway. He wanted nothing to do with the language, and it is one violation too many. Being reminded of it here does little to improve his mood. ]

If someone on this ship is keeping slaves again, it's plenty of my business! [He shakes his head, his lip curled in disgust. ]

Why even go back to that? You were free and are able to keep that freedom here without worry.

[smaller, younger, so much weaker... and he still manages to somehow look down Fenris. his face is flushed and his hands are in fists at his sides, clenched tight to try and control the shaking--just rattling from anger and fear. just as overwhelmed by his own emotions as he was the first time he'd yelled at him.]

...What, and end up like you?

No thanks.

[Fenris can feel the boys disdain, it's practically transmitted right from him. The foolish mind of a stupid child who still doesn't realise the life he clings to do desperately. Fenris isn't certain if he's angry because Nel refuses to embrace freedom, or because he sees so much of himself there. Once upon a time, he thought much the same. Thought he knew his place and saw it as a great honour.

He was, after all, favoured above all others in Danarius' household. He was still nothing but a slave, but he still had a place of importance. A lord of dogs in land of broken mutts. The thought makes him feel sick.]

You are a child. Spewing out nonsense, believing it to be true. You have been blind your whole life, and yet you still cling happily to the darkness like a contented fool.

[Freedom was no boon. You got the better end of the bargain. That's what Varania told him. Perhaps, to her, it was true. She was wrong, just as Nel is now. ]

One day, you might come to your senses, but you won't do that if you keep going back to this. [He makes a disgusted wave of his hand towards Nel's slave markings. ]

I'm not a child!

[that is one accusation that will always get a rise out of him, despite standing in the face of danger. as far as he's concerned, he hasn't been a child for a very long time. he gave that up the day he was put to work. it has taken a lot of very hard work to grow up fast.]

I know what I'm doing. ...You're just too angry and selfish to realize where you belong!

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