driftfleet | can you spot the drama queen

Entry tags:

can you spot the drama queen

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?

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As I said, it's controversial. My... home [he says it reluctantly, with lingering distaste.] marks it illegal. As heresy. But, still. Other places see its benefits. It's convenient, I suppose, when it's the only way to contain a plague.

Hm...

[that's fine guys just stick a ghost in your body and see what happens. what could go wrong. he's got very strong opinions about that kind of thing, but it's not like his world hasn't done its own fair share of questionable, morally grey things. he wonders what their "demons" are like. he wonders what other monsters they have. he wonders about those "augments", hm, and what happens to a person if their demon grows far beyond what it should.

putting that behind questions about his Gods, the way he says "home" with so little joy, the part where he was stabbed... he finds himself smiling again, sitting up in his chair.]

Tega, I'm going to be talking with you until early morning, at this rate.

[He smiles sheepishly, laughing lightly as his fingers fiddle with the fraying edges of his clothes.] I can't say I'd mind. It's been awhile since I've had an engaging partner.

[It's fun. And the way he speaks is wonderful, as if every word were packed with a new mystery to discover. He wants to dissect it, peel away the information and see the truth that lays underneath. But he'll wait. He's learned his boundaries.

Some of them, at least.] It'd be selfish of me to keep you, though. No doubt you've other things to do. I can occupy myself in the meantime.

[Ah, wait. He laughs, ducking his head.] Rather, I can occupy myself until we speak again. If we speak again. I-[Words. He sighs.]-Oh, scorch it. You know what I mean.

Edited (I EVEN CHECKED THIS AND I MISSED BROKEN HTML) 2015-02-19 19:39 (UTC)

[he called him "engaging", what a darling! he laughs too, it's been ages since he's had this much fun just speaking about something that isn't wrapped up in implication and personal gain. how nice. how delightful.]

Trust me, you're much more interesting than anything I had planned.

So, tell me about the demons of your world. What are they like?

[It's nearly impossible to contain a smile, though he tries. Just... not very hard.]

You're lucky. You've asked the right person. Very few people where I'm from have seen them. [He laughs, smoothing back his hair.] I'm gloating, forgive me.

For the most part, they're self-serving. The goal of a demon is to get stronger. Supposedly, they start off small. More like blobs of fluid if the drawings are correct. Then they grow and morph into a shape as they consume. No one's quite sure when they choose their special consumption but it's usually around when they can maintain a consistent shape. No one's quite sure where they come from but most take the myths as truth-that they're brought with the rains and live in the soil.

Ah-right. I forgot to mention. The demons, they're... well. They're said to be the children of the trapped gods. Those left in the clouds. The demons are their attempt at escape. [He gives a half-shrug.] Supposedly. There are some pros and cons to that particular theory that I take issue with.

Very interesting... "Demon" is a foreign word to me, but the creatures you're describing sound an awful lot like the monsters that live under the earth back home.

[nodding, a little. this stuff is fascinating. it's also interesting that he doesn't shy away from this kind of stuff--he would have otherwise pegged him as the type.]

And they can enter mortal bodies? Or is that only possible through the artificial process you described?

[He wants to comment on the similarity-that perhaps, maybe, there's a link between the worlds. Some sort of thread that they all hold on to. But the next question distracts him with its complexity and he finds himself consumed.]

Yes, well. A demon can only enter a human through ingestion. They're too small to eat us like they do with their brethren. About the size of a cat, usually. You have those, right? They're fairly small. [He waves a hand, dismissively.] Anyway, a human must agree to ingest them so most demons don't bother. The ones that do-well. There's more than one way to do it. Depending on the person's preference, the demons can change their shape. Either liquidate themselves for swallowing or become solid enough to eat. Their host then consumes them and, supposedly, the demon lives on within them.

It's very similar to how the gods are hosted. Minus the pain, of course. [Mattias laughs lightly.] The demons are hardly comparable to the gods in terms of power.

Gross.

[that is his educated opinion, yes. he ticks through the details.]

What else happens when a demon grows too powerful? Does it only alter a person's personality and identity, or does it get worse than that?

They're usually removed before then but... [He frowns, starting to look uncomfortable.] In the worst cases, the demon takes over. The person's body becomes a shell. They're considered dead.

[Not... unlike the Decay. The thought unsettles him.]

[which is exactly what he chooses to zero in on.]

So hosting a God must be much worse.

[Mattias hesitates, fully knowing the words he's about to say border on heresy.]

... Yes. You'd be correct. Hosting a god is much more taxing. And fatal.

[he just... looks at him for a little bit. it's not the same, separated and shrunk down by a little screen like this. he wishes he could see his eyes better. he makes a little noise of interest... but decides he doesn't want to be too traumatic. not on the first date.

so he eases up. relaxes back in his seat.]

Your turn! Ask me a question. About anything, I don't mind.

[The backdown is unexpected but... pleasant. Mattias hadn't realized how much he had been dreading the conversation until it had passed.]

I'm afraid my first question is rather simple. [He smiles.] Would you tell me your name?

[oh, he'll come back to it later, sweetie. for now, he's just got a charming smile.]

Robin, like the bird.

[Bullshit, there's no bird called a robin you freak.]

Mattias Larnaca. [He inclines his head, smiling.] It's a pleasure.

[And now, with that name tucked and filed away:] Would you tell me of your world? Of what it's like? Are there forests? Oceans? [Maybe even-] Snow?

Oh, it's lovely...

[maybe it's his turn to gush. he's always felt a love for his world, even at its worst--and it shows as he tries to think of how to describe it, remembering the hundreds of ways it's changed in the thousands of years he's been alive. he's got such a dreamy look on his face...]

I wish I could show you. My hometown, Skeleton City--it's nestled up at the top of the world. There are hundreds of miles of forest all around it. The trees are so thick in places that you can barely squeeze through, and so tall that they block out the sky.

Up north, it turns to grasslands, and then the ocean... It rings the whole continent, actually, but not many people have ever made it far enough through the forest to ever see it. If you go south, the forest comes right up to the edge of the mountains that divide us from the desert lands...

[he sighs, happily.] It doesn't snow much in the lowlands anymore, but up in those mountains, there's always snow. Even in the summer months. It never gets warm enough to melt, that close to the sky.

[His reactions are varied and yet all tied to awe. Cities rise at a few spare words, rivers flow. Oceans pool in spirals and colors only a dreamer could create. Mattias closes his eyes, breath slowing till it seems he's barely breathing at all. His lips, hanging partially open, quirk and tip into a faint smile that lingers even after Robin finishes.]

Tell me of it. The snow. [His words are hushed but full of longing.] Can you walk through it? What does it sound like underfoot? How does it feel?

[Renacht had its fair share of trees and the lakes of Oramos were large enough for him to imagine the ocean but snow? To him it was only a word written in dusted tomes. He had dreamed of it in variations that never felt right. He could never pass the opportunity to know.]

[he won't tell him about the snow planet they've already left behind. it would break his heart.]

It's... Like sand, but lighter and freezing. It's wet, sticks to everything. You walk through it and it soaks through your pants, seeps through your shoes until your toes go numb. [he laughs a little, leaning forward.] Sounds kind of like... Crunching gravel and cotton all at the same time.

[he wishes he could show him. he could--he's got a little trick for that--but not while they're divided by a screen.]

[He laughs.] I can hear it! Feel it too. I think my legs are falling asleep.

[He laughs again, finally opening his eyes to shift, standing with a seethe of breath. Leaving the comm on the floor, he shakes his legs out. Pins and needles shoot through his muscles; he seethes again. Laughs again.] Your world sounds beautiful, Robin. Like the stuff of legends. I fear I'd never stop asking questions if I keep going. You might get the urge to gag me.

Oh, I'll admit I like the chance to speak of it. This adventure has been plenty interesting, but I do get homesick, out here in the stars...

[another little sigh... Mattias might catch him looking upwards, leaning forward a little--as if that would actually change the direction the screen is pointing.]

Though, you should probably check out the rest of the ship. Say hi to the others. I'm not going to leave my communicator behind, so you're welcome to send messages when my way whenever you'd like.

[Mattias rolls his eyes, chuckling.] Oh, yes. The ship. I could count the all the weights in the room.

[He slumps back down to the ground, head propped up on one hand.] Or get harassed by the shapeshifter again. Joy. [He gives a belabored sigh and a somewhat mischievous grin.] I'm afraid you've offered yourself up as the only worthwhile entertainment, Robin. Your sacrifice will be appreciated for centuries to come.

[A beat.] That was a joke. You won't get it.

Oh, no. [he smirks.] I think I get it.

Regardless, here's a thought--figure out how to go back through the network archives and view all the past entries on your device. You may walk away with more questions than answers, but it should at least prepare you for what's to come.

Hm. I suppose it's better than nothing. [Drumming his fingers on the floor, he bites his lip then sighs.]

Very well. I accept the challenge. [He waves a hand dismissively, smirking faintly.] You're relieved from your duties, Sir Robin.

Hah. No one has called me Sir in a long time.

[but he salutes him, casually.]

I'll attach my personal frequency number. Let's talk again soon.

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can you spot the drama queen

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