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(no subject)

Who: Anyone! Everyone!
Broadcast: If you want!
Action: On the FLOOT LOOP stations! Or the planet!
When: WHENEVER time is an illusion.

[you know the drill! this is a mingle for the stations floating around the bizarre forest planet, or the forest planet itself!

want to get away from the forest illusions? are you stopping for supplies? were you just really craving a bowl of Floot Loops for some reason? whether you are backdating for pre-planet shenanigans or just want to mess around, this is the post for you!]

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[Fenris neither notices, nor cares. His hand closes around Robin's heart and he pulls. He's done it countless times, and it's a cleaner 'death' than he feels Robin deserves. He pulls his hand back, heart still in his palm, only fully solidifying himself again once it's clear of his ribcage.

Without ceremony, without gloating, just with the simple action of getting an unpleasant job done, Fenris closes his hand, tight, around the heart. He doesn't bother to watch Robin, he doesn't care what Atroma does to it's dead. He just drops the crushed organ on the floor with a grimace, and walks away.]

Edited 2015-01-30 04:35 (UTC)

[for all intents and purposes, he looks like he's completed the job. he looks sufficiently surprised to have his heart suddenly missing (blood gushing into an empty cavity, but nothing to pump it further). his body collapses under the sudden shock. he stays face-down and still while Fenris walks away.

at some point in the future he may notice that Robin's blood mysteriously vanishes from his hand--but it's probably nothing to worry about.

the heart vanishes too, slowly dissolving, eaten away by the very blood it's still holding. it stitches together the hole where his heart should be (very poetic), slowly knitting new muscle, flesh, suturing up every little vessel he'd broken. a heart is relatively easy to fix, though the startup is always a little unsettling.

he's awake the whole time. it's agonizing. he can feel his heart cells trying to sync up, find their usual rhythm. he feels his own insides eating away at what spilled, cleaning up his internal mess.

really, he probably could have stood up a few minutes ago, but he's just not feeling it yet.]

[It's an awfully public place for a grisly murder, so it's not at all surprising that someone from the fleet happens across the path of Robin's would-be corpse. That that person is Michael is maybe the most fortunate of outcomes possible at the tail end of a very unfortunate situation.

He's just out for a little sight-seeing, hands stuffed casually in the pockets of his trenchcoat, and his reaction is barely a pause in his step. He doesn't even hurry, exactly, because the gory tableau looks awfully final. Unfortunately, he's not that kind of angel. He can't snap his fingers and raise him from the dead, and maybe wouldn't even if he still had the ability to perform miracles. It was an act that had to be carefully measured against the bigger picture.

Or, well, usually. He wasn't the most responsible of angels in that regard. Which is why he's mostly powerless in the situation. It might look like he doesn't care, but the scowl on his face is dour as he crouches next to his captain's fallen form, places a hand on his shoulder, and tips him onto his back.

The fact that Robin is alive becomes obvious rather quickly, if the still-rushing blood and still open eyes are anything to go by - and since he's been aware of Robin's otherness for some time it doesn't exactly come as a surprise, but it's pretty damn shocking all things considered.

Accordingly, he's not going to have anything to say just yet. Give him a minute...]

[any blood left on the scene dissolves quickly, or is slithering back into Robin's body as Michael flips him over. as it is, he's looking cleaner and cleaner by the second. the wound in his chest is almost fixed, just a sliver of open muscle being slowly bound back under fresh new skin. the blood oozing out of his mouth drips backwards, like someone is turning back the clock, until it's vanished. back in his body where it belongs. no mess, like it never happened.

after a moment, his eyes slide over to Michael's face with something like recognition. he frowns.]

Hey. [his voice still sounds a little wet when he talks.] I think I fucked up.

Edited (how do dragon age powers work? we just don't know.) 2015-01-30 05:54 (UTC)

[A few centuries of existence and even that is something to see. He can worry about the implications of the gaping hole knitting itself shut in the middle of Robin's chest later, though, because there's a crowd starting to form.]

I wouldn't call this winning the blue ribbon, no. [He slips a hand under Robin's shoulders and angles him up gently. He needs to get him back to the Bloodsport, assuming moving him won't cause more damage, so he goes gently to gauge the effect.]

What happened? [And again, he usually doesn't have to ask that question.]

[he lets Michael scoop him up. he looks like he's doing pretty well. the wound is almost stitched shut already, and he even puts some of his own weight on his feet.]

A series of unfortunate coincidences...

[Robin's even better at crytic remarks than he is. Which is frustrating and impressive all at the same time. He focuses on getting him mobile - arm hooked under Robin's and slowly beginning what is probably going to be a slow hobble back towards their ship.

Which is starting to earn it's name all on Robin's steam alone.]

Isn't this the part where you say I should see the other guy?

[It's the other guy that worries him because the damage he saw was not insignificant and whoever could inflict that kind of thing is someone he should maybe stay on the look out for]

[it may surprise Michael that Robin picks up strength remarkably fast. it'll still take him a while to get his emotions back together, but his body is healing very well. it might not be as slow a hobble as he'd think.]

Afraid not... This one's on me.

[It kind of is a surprise, but he's not leaving Robin's side just yet. Not until they're somewhere safe.]

On you? What did you do?

[he is becoming increasingly aware of the ripples this one is going to send out... he's already bracing for Michael to have some Words with him. or maybe just drop him. dropping him would be about what he deserves right now.]

That man was an ex-slave. I have an ex-slave under technical contract. You can do the math.

[Dropping Robin would be counter-productive to getting him to actually talk about what happened here, rather than keeping Michael uncomfortably in the dark.

He is quiet a moment, however.]

Not a fan of math. I haven't seen anyone chained up in the hold, so who's the slave?

His name's Nel, and... it's not like that.

[he looks really... bothered by the implication, actually.]

We're just calling me his master so that he has something familiar. I'd never do anything to hurt him, it's just...

[So he's got a more concrete concept of slavery than Robin does, which makes this a difficult thing to judge when he doesn't know the full scope of the issue. The least of which being the attempt on Robin's life.]

Just what?

...It's just there to give him something to work under, that's all. He's never known anything other than that.

[it's a good thing Robin doesn't know about confessionals--otherwise he'd make a misinformed and poorly-timed joke.]

[Michael would argue he's not that kind of angel anyway. Such as now, his feet on a path that hasn't been set for him. Even his last mission was well outside his purview. It was a good excuse to get out for awhile and in the long run his actions were laid out by God. Not so here.]

That's the thing about free will. People don't always know what to do with it. Or do the right thing with it. But having the chance is the important part.

[he says nothing about that. he quietly disagrees, even though he understands what Michael is saying about it. he's so used to a world where Gods are supposed to be running everything, taking care of people, determining their lives for them.

he picks up his own pace a little, trying to slink off of Michael.]

I've got a lot to do. Nel'll be panicking.

[He keeps pace, though, not ready to let Robin shrug the subject off just yet. The particulars of the situation can wait. But there are a few things he need to know]

What about the one who did this? Won't he be back for you if he finds out he didn't finish the job?

Don't know. It doesn't matter. I'll think of something.

[he might be... shutting down already, retreating into his own head to calculate and weigh his options.]

[Firmly] Hey... [And he steps partway into Robin's path, arm extended. He won't physically hold him there if he wants to keep going; all he's really after is a chance to look Robin in the face for a second. As soon as he does, his expression and tone softens considerably]

We're crew, aren't we? What does that mean if we don't watch out for each other? I get it, you blame yourself. But this isn't all on you. The past doesn't give him the right to make him your executioner, and I won't stand by and let him come for you again and again. I'm not saying you don't have to make it right, but tell me who it was so I can keep any eye out for him.

[he's surprised--but he looks up at Michael, his expression very open compared to his usual, all-purpose smirks and smiles. he looks nervous, worried. upset. there's a lot of blame in there, but it's all pointed inwards.

he feels sick and disgusting. 'why would someone want to help him?' he can't help the instinct. but he knows on a logical level that this is a thing normal people do. so he gives up, he caves in, he nods at Michael.]

It's Fenris. He's an elf.

Fenris. [He seems to mentally catalog this info somehow, maybe trying to remember his face on the network, and then he nods.] Okay.

[He lets out a breath. Guardian angel isn't really his bag, but it's too against his nature to sit by and let this kind of thing happen to a crewmate.]

[He places a hand on Robin's shoulder lightly, and offers him a gentle smile]

Go to him. Make it right. And remember that no man is lost who seeks redemption.

[...funny how words like that can carry over onto a completely different mindset. let lets the words rattle around everything else that he knows, and they're odd enough coming out of Michael that he gives him a dejected look.]

Is that what they say, where you're from?

Edited 2015-02-17 01:12 (UTC)

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