driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Eugene Woods, et al.
Broadcast: Fleetwide video
Action: HS Marsiva hospitality deck
When: 6/13

[Action]

[Eugene isn't necessarily a light sleeper. But he wakes quickly, when something is wrong. And something is definitely wrong, all at once, enough to have him pushing himself up and looking around, breaths coming fast and voiceless and silent.

He doesn't whisper for the name spinning through his head over and over, just pats to the edge of the cot in a haze of cold dread, feels nothing, curls his hand around the edge for balance as he scans the room. Other cots. Other people. The place is clean in a way nothing's been for years, sleek and shiny. Only the lack of overt scientific or medical purpose keeps at bay the worst of his fears, the darkest rumors and insinuations they'd scraped together over the years.

After several long minutes of staring out into the open room, he finds the communicator set down beside him and begins to browse transmissions and archives. Even then, he's tense and silent, eyes flitting up to track any movement or sound.]

[Transmission]

[Later - after a few hours of reading, and observing the goings-on around the deck, and a few several-minute stints of just trying to breathe slowly and not freak out - Eugene makes his first effort at hailing the network. He's set the device down on his pillow, and his expression is soundly unimpressed as he sits on the edge of the cot.]

Okay - this is the best open letter to our mysterious production staff that I can manage, but someone has to say it.

Seriously, guys? This is your ratings grab? This is your cool new hook for the week?

[He is not amused. He is so not amused.]

Don't tell me - is this supposed to be the inspirational overcoming adversity angle? Or is it just the kind of good old-fashioned entertainment where we can fly people through space, but we can't toss on a few robot limbs or whatever?

Guess I'll have to wait and see how it all comes out in post-production, huh. Great. Good job guys. Get those viewers.

[He reaches for the communicator and tips it, putting all of himself in the frame - down to left thigh that thins out and ends in a twisted line of scar tissue, several inches above where a knee would be. Eyes narrowed in resentment, he pats it emphatically a few times, then switches off the feed.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[If there's one thing Hiccup excels at, it's being awkward. He doesn't really know where to put his hands in casual conversation, so they just end up everywhere. In his hair, maybe tucked in his elbows when he crosses his arms, maybe in his dragon's saddle. If he had a dragon, anyway.]

My name's Hiccup. Nice to meet you. [That's a pretty not-Viking surname, but eh.] The place is... well, it's certainly something. I've, ah, never quite seen anything like it. No visible way out, no way to cut ourselves out, and we're so high up you can't even see the ground.

Not to mention the-- the weird-looking ships out there. Or the fact I know things I shouldn't. It's a lot to take in, to be honest.

Wait. Ships?

[Eugene hadn't quite gotten around to exploring yet, and he grabs for his crutch, levering himself to his foot and arranging the much-abused pad under his arm. What Hiccup says sounds like it should be reasonable, but none of the edges quite line up - ships and high up jarring with how still everything feels around them.

But ships means that they're going somewhere, right? That they have a trajectory. And that alone, on a deep and instinctive level, feels so much better than being locked down in an unknown building by unknown parties.]

Show me what you're talking about.

[Meanwhile, Hiccup is definitely wondering where the hell they're going. He loves exploring as much as anyone else, but uh. Where's his dragon? Where's his village? They kinda need him at the moment. Not much to be done about it right now, though.

He steps aside to give Eugene plenty of room. Only then does he notice the man's missing most of his leg. He's distracted by that momentarily, but then he's guiding the man over to the big bay windows.

The stars are out tonight, like every night. Other ships can be seen flying near the Marsiva, though not too close. There's no sign of islands or sun or moon or even clouds... just the occasional waystation blinking in the distance, like a tiny candle floating on black water.]

Ships with no sails. Pretty weird. And yet there's... something telling me how it works, like I heard it in my sleep.

. . . wow.

[Eugene stops near a wall, because while his balance is better now than it was when he first started on the crutch, his balance rolls away from him on a single swell when the entirety of space blooms out in front of him. He steadies himself against the wall, breathing out the single, awed syllable, dragging himself back to focus on Hiccup's voice only with a conscious effort.]

Yeah, I'm . . . guessing you guys haven't gotten to the internal combustion engine, yet. Going by the armor.

[He's amused by Eugene's reaction.] It's beautiful though, huh? I feel like... I could lose myself out there.

[When he's sure Eugene isn't going to fall over, he spares a glance at his own armor.]

What's wrong with-- what do you mean by yet?

[Oh.

Was that not the right word?

Shit. Ok. Explain. He can do that.]

I mean . . . uh. Back at home? My home? Nobody's dressed like you're dressed for hundreds of years, probably. And since then, we've invented the stuff that bridges the gap between boats- [-gesture to Hiccup-] - and spaceships. [Gesture toward the crafts visible beyond the bay window.]

Wow.

[He's not sure what he was expecting. To be called history is... not it. He needs a moment. He runs a hand through his hair, shakes his head.]

Hoo boy, that's... something.

That's not water, is it? We're not sailing through water. I'm used to flying but-- not like this.

Yeah. Not water not air, just . . . lots of nothing.

[He releases a soft sigh, looking out at the stars for several long, peaceful moments before his brain screeches and backtracks rapidly.]

. . . wait. Flying?

[Hiccup is still hung up on 'floating through nothing.' Eugene's remark passes him by, then he realizes there's staring.]

Oh. [Most people can't fly. Right.] I'm what you'd call a dragon rider. [He pantomimes the general shape of a large beast.] His name's Toothless. He's about this wide, this tall... and really long.

Buuuuut since our kidnappers apparently couldn't wrangle him onto the ship, you'll just have to take my word for it.

... a dragon.

[He should scoff. He should. But what the heck, he's already in space with androids and people from totally alternate earths. What's a dragon-riding viking to add to the mix.

Other than, of course, totally awesome.]

You have dragons. Riding dragons.

[Without even meaning to, he's begun to grin, small and awed.]

We have all kinds of dragons. [And here's where Hiccup gets excited, though he's still reeling over losing Toothless. He knows Toothless will find his way to him... somehow... wherever he is.] We have dragons that keep forges and fires going. Dragons that help bring in fish or carry lumber. Dragons that race. Guard dragons, tracking dragons, therapy dragons, purely aquatic dragons, burrowing dragons, dragons that act like schools of fish...

I guess we could've had dogs or something, but they kept getting eaten. So. Dragons it is.

[He laughs under his breath at the reasoning at the end, the warmest sound to come out of him yet. He's allowed. Dragons have been a mainstay of his reading life since he was a kid, so even meeting someone who's touched one? That's amazing.]

No, uh. You definitely won with the dragons, there.

[He's not being a big stupid fanboy. He's not. He's just . . . grinning and rubbing his neck and completely preoccupied with how cool this world sounds.]

So this is all just insanely boring, right.

[Hiccup really isn't used to the fame and adoration that comes with riding dragons-- even now. He runs a hand through his hair.]

Wasn't aware it was a contest.

[He shakes his head at that last bit.]

Why would this be boring? I'm surrounded by stuff I don't understand. I don't even know where we're going. This is-- it's completely uncharted territory.

It's terrifying, but kind of... exciting. [He turns to look outside again.] I just wish my friends were here to see it.

. . . yeah.

[The view is breathtaking, no matter how many mixed emotions the reality of it twists beneath the surface. It's true. Jack would love to see this. All of them would.

His smile doesn't completely fade, but what's left is wistful, more subdued.]

Maybe being stuck in a ship isn't such a bad thing, eh? Maybe we don't have the people we're used to, but at least we're not alone.

(no subject)

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;