can you spot the drama queen

[noctiphile]

Who: Mattias Larnaca
Broadcast: video; fleet-wide
Action: marsiva so NO ONE
When: 2/17

I don't understand. [The screen is black, the voice is ragged, raw. Wet with sobs that gasp and hiccup out of him. The comm scrapes against the floor of the ship and a glimpse of space can be seen ] I-it's dark. She-[He chokes, splutters, coughs.]-She's gone. Is this... [A deep, bedraggled breath. The screen brightens, adjusting to the color of fluorescent lights and a young man's weary face, wet with tears. Despite his appearance, he's smiling. The kind of smile seen at births, marriages, a baby's first step. He's overcome with emotion, excited and battling it, fighting disbelief in order to confirm that this, any of this is real.]

This is a communication system. I don't-[He swipes a hand across his face, wiping his eyes clear.]-I don't know how I know that but... [muttering:]... it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. Whoever's out there-[He chokes again, this time laughing.]-Goddess. I really am. Above the clouds. In her domain. I never-[He swallows, trying to contain his excitement again.]-I never thought this would happen. I could never even imagine it. Not like this. Not-Goddess.

[Falling back to one hand he sighs, pulling a hand through his tired hair, loose waves spilling between his fingertips. After a few minutes, he seems to remember that he's broadcasting. Eyes glimmering with elation, he leans forward, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face.]

Please. Anyone. Tell me. [He turns the comm quickly and presses it against the glass. The screen fills with the void of space, stars glittering in their myriad.] Has night finally come?

Comments

[noctiphile]

I'm telling you there's no night! None! Listen, for once, would you?!

Ugh! [He pushes away and pushes him away, too.] This is hopeless. Here I thought golems were fantasy but you, good sir, are surely made of rock.

1/2

[mysterzie]

[ Aaron doesn't want to be touched by this guy, so he doesn't. His reflexes give him more than enough time to move away and he reaches out to push Mattias back. ]

If I'm made of rock... [ Wait, that's not the voice that's been talking to him this whole time. What? ]

[mysterzie]

... then so are you.

[noctiphile]

[Mattias' gut plummets. Space closes around him leaving him tight, cramped and alone with... himself. His breath catches, memories flashing and freezing him in place while his hand curls into the fabric above his stomach.]

Shapeshifter... [He breathes the word out, stepping back despite himself.] Get back. [The words feel so useless. Everything he does will. He needs a weapon, a shield, something to push back both him and the memory of a dagger sinking into skin. The fingers at his stomach ball into a fist.] Get back!

[mysterzie]

[ That's a, uh, powerful reaction. Aaron shies away, bit of an odd look on Mattias's face as he tries to figure out what exactly went wrong here. People don't like undocumented shapeshifters but this is a bit much. ]

We're at a wall, doofus. What's up with you?

[noctiphile]

[Distance doesn't make it any better but it does allow him some self-control.] I've met your kind before.

[His hand twists into his shirt, knuckles white. Takes a few deep breaths that turn shallow.] Look, just. What do you want from me? I've got nothing to offer you this time.

[mysterzie]

My kind?

[ Don't make it sound so vile geez. He's not some kind of disease nor is he some sort of object to just be made into whatever else someone wants. ]

Nothing! We were just arguing. You were messing with me, so I was messing with you! I'm not gonna hurt you. Jesus.

[noctiphile]

Messing with you?! I was trying to leave!

[He leans forward before falling back, embarrassment settling in. Or was it shame? He pinches the bridge of his nose, voice weary but not angry.] Could you please change back? To whatever's normal. Please.

[mysterzie]

[ With an exaggerated sigh, Aaron does as asked and suddenly it's the original face in all its glory standing there again. ]

That was dramatic.

[noctiphile]

[And now it's back to So Done With Your Shit. His lip curls and, once again, he tries to brush past him.]

Oh, piss off.

[mysterzie]

Nice meeting you, too!

[ Welcome to dealing with a literal twelve year old. Enjoy your stay with him on the Marsiva until Saturday! ]