driftfleet | First song

Entry tags:

First song

Who: Maglor
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: Now until shuffle

Broadcast

He comes awake in a gasp, hands flying immediately to weapons that are not there as he rolls into a wary crouch. The man is slender, almost beautiful, long dark hair and clear grey eyes that seem to glow from within. He is dressed in what are best described as robes - once fine but now faded and worn, if clean due to the efforts of whoever put him there. Almost innocuously compared to the shabby state of him, there is a silver eight pointed star pinned to his clothes that looks impossibly untarnished and is obviously of very high quality.

"Who is there?"

Action

Maglor moves silently through the halls, no sound of his footfalls. He is wary, anxious - this is something totally outside his experience. But then he passes a window looking out and he stops, a cry of wonder breaking from his lips as he falls to his knees. A hand comes up to his mouth, the other gripping the harp that seems to have been the only thing that came with him, as silent tears run down his face.

"A! Elbereth!"

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Oh she can utterly empathize with this kind of waking up. It's what she did too. Only...less gracefully. She feels a little bad, because speaking up may startle him, but there's no help for it. The best thing for it is to get it over while. So.

"No one at the moment. Not physically. At least, not at this very moment." The voice might come from about anywhere. She recalls that experience too. Waking up with people just talking out of the ether. "There should be some kind of small device around you. Probably on the bunk or the floor by it. You can use it to see who you're talking to."

"Who?" Sharp eyes dart around, before settling on the communicator.

"What sorcery is this?" He murmurs, coming over warily to look at it. "And who do I speak to?"

First time in space?

[ Apollo moves quietly, his feet bare on the metal, and staying outside of lashing out range, just in case. Dressed in a T-shirt and cargo pants, he's a much less splendid figure, but he's handsome and young, despite the silver white hair. He's been pressed against a window himself, craving the openness of space and the promise of that nearby star. ]

It's beautiful, isn't it?

[ Maglor whirls at the voice, despite the tears his stance is wary and tense, until he forces himself to calm ]

Space? [ He tests the word out, and nods ]

Yes. I have never been able to hear them so clearly before. We must be very close.

Yeah. Space. The void between the stars and planets.

[ All right, clearly not from a highly technological advanced world. Doesn't really mean anything. ]

Hear what?

A good word for it. [ Maglor says softly and smiles a little ]

The stars. How brightly they sing!

Huh. I can't hear it. Sounds like you're enjoying it, though.

Theirs was one of the first songs I learnt, in my youth. I could not see them, only hear their voices, and it was my father who brought me out to the edges of the dark, to see them in all their splendour. I would share that song with all, if I could!

"Not sorcery, actually, though it tends to look about the same in the end." If and when he decides to pick up his comm device, the young lady, with a mass of wild blood red curls, gives him a little wave.

"I'm Syeira. And for what it's worth, welcome to the Fleet. Though that probably isn't worth very much at all to you just now. And you've my sympathies for that."

Where did you live, that you couldn't see stars?

He blinks down at the image and waves back tentatively when she does.

"Well met, Lady Syeria. Maglor, at your service." The manners are ingrained, the answer automatic, although no less sincere for that.

"This is... some form of remote viewing device? Which... means you are not here, I suppose. Thank you for the welcome. Can... you tell me ought of this... 'Fleet'?"

[ The look in his eyes is wistful, an old homesickness ]

I was born and raised in Tirion-on-Tuna, in Valinor that lay to the furtherest West. In my youth we did not see the stars for the Light of the Two Trees covered the land, and only at the very outermost edges, during the quiet dimming of Telperion could you see the stars, else it was too bright.

She nods back politely. "It's a pleasure, m'lord." It's a gamble, the title. The last time she'd made a guess about someone's lineage because they sounded and acted the part, she was scolded, if kindly.

"You are very correct. You are on a ship that sails in the void between planes, called the Marsiva. I am currently on another such vessel called The Red Fish. There are several more, all in tow behind the ship you're on at present. There's a great deal more to explain. You may want to sit and be comfortable."

[ All right. So he speaks a little like he's from a Shakespearian play, but Apollo can roll with that.

He was raised somewhere that probably wasn't actually on a fish, with giant, glowing trees that would've made it impossible to see the night sky. He nods slightly, that sorted in his head. ]

The first time I remember seeing the night sky, it was my first mission for Bendix. I must have seen in a thousand times before, because it was familiar, but I didn't remember those times.

A mission? You are a military man then. And I suppose things that we see daily become commonplace, after a time. Was there something of that night that made it special?

Sort of? I'm a post-human, person with super powers. I was made by Bendix and when we failed that first mission, he decided Midnighter and I were loose ends. We were on the run for years.

[ Special? Not exactly. He breathed fresh air and gave commands and his team died around him, in a hail of blood and bone and horror. He should've died, but for Midnighter taking charge and getting them out safely. ]

Yes. It was the first I remembered. I have no memories from before being Apollo. I only knew seven other people in the world and five of them died that night. One of them should've died.

"No lord I" He shakes his head in denial. "I am but a simple bard, no more than that - just Maglor will do."

Maglor sighs softly and murmurs so quiet as to be almost inaudible. "So I am to be exile even from Arda then...." Focusing on her he nods and settles down on the bed again, bearing the device with him.

"Thank you for your assistance, Lady Syeria."

Maglor listens with an almost eerie stillness, taking in emotion and gesture as well as word, eyes fixed on Apollo as he considers.

"A 'post-human'? 'Made'? Those are dark arts indeed that you speak of. I am sorry that you were made to suffer so, but I am grateful that you survived to speak to me now, as selfish as that is."

Super powered human, made. That doesn't bother me, I don't remember anything before being Apollo. Never much cared about anything before. The only suffering was that bastard sending us in blind and getting my team wiped out for no goddamn reason.

[ He gives Maglor a soft smile. ]

Well, that's awful sweet of you to say. I'm Apollo.

[ He offers out his hand to shake. ]

"A bard?!" The look on her face couldn't be any more excited. Maglor just said the magic word.

It certainly takes the sting out of his mispronouncing her name, twice.

"Then as a bard myself, I think you could just call me Syeira. Without the lady." The emphasis is tiny and hopefully enough. This used to happen to her back home a lot too.

"Aye?" He blinks, a little startled at her vehemence.

"If I am being honest, one of some renown, where I am from."

He ducks, chastened. "Forgive me Lady Syeira." Gonna... have to work at the lady bit. "I did not mean to mispronounce your name - I am not usually so careless."

Oops! She thought she was subtler than that.

"No, no. It's fine. Happens to me all the time back home. Really, I swear."

Ahem. She clears her throat, feeling foolish and rude. She should have just let it go. ~~And let him mispronounce her name forever.~~ Shoving her hair back behind he ear (it has a definite point to it, if he's keen to see it), she hurriedly moves on.

"I should love to see your talents, if you're ever inclined. I'm always looking to learn, and if you've such renown, I'm sure you have so much experience and talent." It's like she's meeting a famous person, that somehow she's never heard of, and still getting a little fan-girly about him. And that's why she missed the entire point of the conversation that she started.

"I mean, once you're off the Marsiva, of course. They will let you leave. You'll be put on a ship in a few days. I don't know when. There never seems to be a pattern to it." Except there IS a pattern to it, but she doesn't exist on a seven day week. Oh well!

Then he treated you as tools, rather than as people, which only serves to mark him as one of those who serve the Enemy, knowing or not. I am glad that you have escaped him.

[ Maglor tips his head in a bow and hesitates at the hand before taking the hand in a warrior's handclasp ]

Well met, Apollo. Maglor, at your service.

"No, no, the fault is mine." He insists. "Forgive me, this whole thing has rattled me, I believe, else I would never have been so rude. I will endeavour not to do so again."

He blinks at her shyly and ducks his head.

"I... well, I mind not sharing the art without another who loves it so, but if we are not on the same... vessel, then will there be ways to meet? It... has been a long time since I was able to play with another of equal skill."

That is a face he would know anywhere, even changed as it is by the sorrows of centuries Finrod himself will not see. After so long without another from Arda, he had never thought that a family member would practically land in his lap.

"Calm yourself, Maglor. You are in no immediate danger."

Hopefully, the familiar voice will be enough to catch his attention.

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