( o1. )

[desequilibre]

Who: Athos
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Marsiva
When: 06/07

[ It has taken Athos the better part of the day to curb the initial wave of panic within him. At first, it been monumental, the likes of which he had not felt in many years. One look out of the window had sent his breath from his body and his hands trembling in the wake of all that black. Athos had not known there were that many stars in the sky. The understanding had left him fairly certain he'd been one step away from madness, barely managing to claw his way back to his way back to control of himself.

Which means he's not happy.

Using the communicator feels foreign to him. But from watching others he can only gather that it is like a window, though one that lets a man see much further than merely outside. If it had been the first thing he'd come across, he would have crushed it beneath his boot - but after realising he's floating his way through nothingness, a simple thing like witchcraft isn't as impressive. When he addresses the fleet he makes sure to do so without any trace of fear on his face. His scowl is firmly fixed, the brim of his hat darkening his eyes. ]

My name is Athos, Captain of the King's Musketeers. I seek an audience with whoever has brought me here. [ He has to remain dignified, at least for now, but there is a hint of threat still in his voice. ] As well as the immediate return of both my companions and my effects.

[ He'd been with d'Artagnan and Porthos, they'd been right beside him. And here he is, his uniform pressed but sans pistol or rapier, and no sign of them. His mouth twitches slightly, the shadow across his face stretching. ] I do not appreciate being taken against my will. You would do well to make haste.

Comments

[noprophecies]

[it's a good question, and one she hasn't taken the opportunity to consider, in her burst of panic and rage when she first woke up. She frowns and tilts her head, then shakes it with a huff] I feel cut off, but not weakened - but I imagine that is because we are in the stars. I would not know for sure until I tried to cast a larger spell - which I will not do here, as it is supposedly dangerous.

["supposedly". Musket is another word she's not familiar, but she appreciates him mentioning it so she can add it to her very short list of weapons her world has yet to embrace - that she knows of. Who knows what's been going on over on the mainland] Of course. It is quite rude of them.

[desequilibre]

Cut off. [ It's an unpleasant thought. But then, an inferno in the walls of the ship is one too. ] Is fire the only thing you are able to wield?

[noprophecies]

Fire is a - mm, specialty? It is the one I use most of often. But no, I am able to wield all sorts of spells.

[desequilibre]

Interesting.

[ He takes a moment to mull this over, his expression clearly thoughtful. ]

We could use it to our advantage. They clearly did not think to cut you off entirely. Meaning they aren't expecting you to act out.

[noprophecies]

[she blinks in surprise, before a grin spreads across her face. She can't help it, considering]

If that is the case, then they clearly do not research those they bring here.

[desequilibre]

No.

[ Glancing back to the glass window and the endless sky beyond that. ]

And I do not need weapons to make my point heard. They will learn to regret ignoring us.

[noprophecies]

[oh, she likes this one. She likes him a lot]

Yes, I think they will.

[desequilibre]

[ It can only last so long. ]

Perhaps until then we should explore the ship? It would be a good idea for us to explore our surroundings. I would like to know where it is I am to be held for the time being.

[noprophecies]

I have done some on my own, but I would not mind looking around again.

[she makes a gesture for him to lead the way]

[desequilibre]

And did you find anything of interest?

[ At least the company might give him enough of a distraction to stop himself from feeling insane. ]

[noprophecies]

There is food provided, that I have been told is better than what is available to us on the other ships. A number of locked doors that will not open, even with magic. [and, with the slightest bit of teasing] And a man who has not given me his name just yet.