driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: two nerds and you
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: now!

[ The audio comes on sharply, but everything is still dark as two people discuss their situation.]

Is that the camera? Can you get it to work?

I - think so? Here, push this --

I am pushing it, Hank. I thought you knew about these from that show you keep watching. Space Trek?

It's Star Trek and that isn't exactly - you know, the same thing as this.

Right. . . . Wait, I think I see something on the side.

[ And the video flickers on, the red light glowing softly. It focuses on two men. One in a wheelchair and the other right next to him, peering curiously at the camera before they step back satisfied. ]

Well, that’s over and done with. Hello to anyone who might be out there. My name is Charles Xavier and this is Hank McCoy. Apparently we’ve been kidnapped again, by an unknown force again for some mysterious reason.

[muttered:] Again. [and louder] So if anyone would be kind enough to explain exactly what's going on, we'd appreciate it. You have our thanks in advance.

But do keep it pertinent.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Both of them at once... of all the things he wasn't expecting today, this ranks up there. Erik recovers himself, getting to the point.]

You're in space. More specifically, you're on a ship called the Marsiva, part of the Drift Fleet.

[he opens his mouth to respond, but pauses to let that sink in. Space?!]

Ah. And . . . why are we in space, exactly?

[He... sighs, at the story he's about to deliver.]

The given reason is that beings called the Atroma have selected us all to star in their reality television show. [A pause.] "Reality television" is apparently just putting people somewhere and filming their lives. It sounds stupid, but others have said it exists in their worlds, so it's not entirely made up for this alone.

[if it was anyone else, Hank would have questions to confirm all of this were true. But it's Erik, and . . . well, he wouldn't lie]

Isn't that essentially a documentary? It does sound stupid. [and it makes him uncomfortable; he doesn't want anyone watching his life] What are the Atroma? They're not - uh, they're not like Echoes, are they?

Unless there's a narrator somewhere, I don't think so. This is the only reason we've been given.

And we don't know. They never show themselves in person, and apparently only rarely make voice announcements. I've certainly not heard from them at all, and I've been here for over a month. [Which will probably come as news to Hank.]

That's . . . both a relief and worrying. [but if he can think of them less like Echoes, that's a plus] I'd really rather not—. . .

[wait]

A month?

That's right.

[He pauses, and flips the feed to private. The rest of this is going to get personal.]

I take it I wasn't obviously missing at home. [He'd gathered this from Charles, but Hank he'll actually ask.]

No, you weren't. [he confirms it immediately, shaking his head] Hell, if - I don't know how long we've been, er, here, but it's only been a few hours aside from that.

Okay. [Confirmed.] That is what I thought might be the case, but it's good to know.

In any case, you two will be moved off that ship at some point, but until then you can't leave, and no one can get onto it.

[he sighs] That should be more surprising . . .

I wasn't planning on trying to leave, so that's . . . good, I guess. [he isn't going anywhere without Charles, at least until he's forced to] How long will be stuck here?

It's usually not longer than a week... in fact, they're about due to move people soon. You'll be randomly assigned to one of the other eighteen ships. Mine's the Heron.

Of course we don't get a choice. [matter-of-factly, and he faintly shakes his head] The Heron, right - once we're moved, are we allowed to leave the ship after that?

You can apply to transfer ships. I haven't done it myself, but others have. It's not like a team - there's no impetus to stay. And you can go between them. I'm actually on a moon right now. You'll probably be able to see it out the window.

[And since he's watching the conversation with Kitty...]

You should be aware that there are other mutants here, but none of them are from our version of the world. They all have different experiences.

[both eyebrows go up, surprised] You're on a moon? What's that like? But mm, that's what I've been told - that you can transfer and . . . it isn't like a team.

[which seems odd, to him, but he'll chalk that up to Kyriakos conditioning.

As for the "other mutants" thing . . . he looks a little apprehensive]

So I'm starting to gather. Do you know how many? And . . . what I should start expecting?

Terrible, really. The air is poison and you'll need a gas mask if you want to come down here. [He shifts and picks up his from the table, holding it in camera view for a moment.]

With you two, it's now twelve, I think. Most of them I haven't met in our own world. Raven and Logan are here, but they are not the ones we know. [That's something that needs to be made clear.]

You should also mind yourself with Kitty Pryde and Kurt Darkholme. Their world's version of you is not pleasant.

I heard about the poison, yeah. That's . . . interesting. [to himself, but loud enough for Erik to hear] I wonder if they'd let me look into what's causing it . . .

[but as Erik explains, he looks . . . more uncomfortable, more fidgety than he's been in a while. He goes as far as to take off his glasses to rub at his face and briefly pinch the bridge of his nose] Right. Not the ones we know. [he repeats it, as if that'll help it sink in faster]

Apparently I'm a sociopath.

If you want to waste your time on some other planet's problems. [Go nuts. He won't be.

He watches Hank get more and more uneasy, with a bit of sympathy. He's been dealing with this sense of uncertainty for a month on his own, so he has a head start.] You'll know when you see them. Some of the differences are obvious.

Yes, I've heard. [And a lot more than that, too, but Kitty's going to get there first.]

I may as well, if I'm stuck here. [he shrugs, because what else is he supposed to do? He needs to nerd over something.

Especially considering everything he's hearing. The distraction would be welcome]

Should I proceed with caution, then? If . . . [he makes a vague gesture] I'm going to get more reactions like hers.

Proceed as yourself. I've told you what I know; I haven't spoken to any of the others about you, and for the record I've heard that most of them aren't likely to be fond of me.

Of course, I told Kitty that you haven't done those things in our world and never will. If you ever did, I'd take you out. [This is true friendship right here. Appreciate it.]

[he takes a deep breath]

None of us are what any of them are expecting. [he can understand why they wouldn't be fond of Erik, but then again . . . Erik isn't that person anymore]

I—[his shoulders tighten up and he looks away, lips pressed together. But he nods, after a moment] I imagine you'd have to beat Charles to that. If it were even remotely a possibility.

[He just nods at the latter, and carries on the conversation without further reference to it.]

I've been using Blade for a name. I wasn't fond of the idea of broadcasting mine on this network when I arrived. [It's an additional layer of distance, too, between himself and the perceptions of others. The main reason he hasn't dropped it yet.]

[yes, good, let's not discuss it any further. After a moment, he looks back to the screen]

Do you want me to go back to calling you Blade, then?

No, that's fine. Everyone would have already heard Charles say it. My real name is down on the ship's manifest anyway.

Ah. Good. [he forces an annoyed expression, nose wrinkling] It took forever to get used to calling you Erik again.

It was a spur of the moment decision, really. Helped along by the fact that Nightingale was one of the first to contact me.

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