groove slam work it back

[noctiphile]

Who: the good and merry folk of the S. S. Starstruck
Broadcast: it's a mystery! you decide!
Action: S. S. Starstruck
When: until we make a new one

[Wow! Look at that! This ship sucks! Discontent is abundant! No one likes each other! Everyone's grumpy! I'm using too many exclamation points! Looks like it's just the first of many exciting episodes aboard the S.S. Starstruck*.]

*property possibly inherited from lady gaga

Comments

action

[pocketpal]

[ While you're settling in, do keep an eye out for a tiny person, who might be climbing the walls (literally), poking her head out of vents, dragging objects across the floor (she is as strong as a human, even if she is tiny), or staring at the disproportionately sized toilets, protein cube machines, and control panels.

This all is very annoying. ]

[noctiphile]

[He spots her from the corner of his eye as she clambers up a wall. At first, he thinks he's imagining it. Putting a face on a strange space bug or something of the sort but upon closer inspection he sees the truth.]

A person. [He nearly gasps out the word, teetering precariously the chair he pulled up to get a better look at her.] So small. How delightful! [Face lighting up, he leans back and nearly falls but manages to right himself just in time for another question.] Can you speak? Understand me?

[pocketpal]

[ She gives him a sour look, as though contemplating whether or not to reach out and give him a good shove, one that would send him all the way to the floor. She pulls herself up onto - a curve of pipe, a switch, somewhere she can support herself. ]

That depends. Do you ever say anything interesting?

[noctiphile]

That's a bit rude.

[But he seems more put-out than anything. A sour attitude is justified if his reaction was a common one. For now, he'll give her the benefit of the doubt, jumping off his chair only to pull it closer.] I'd like to think I say something of interest now and again. Are you part of the crew?

[pocketpal]

I am your captain.

[ She's got enough balance to spare that she can cross her arms, looking quite fierce.

But, still, she hasn't seen many people in person in the last five years. She's interested, but she tries to hide that little spark of curiosity. ]

ELN-1470.

[noctiphile]

Well, I suppose I can't argue with that.

[With a grunt, he hoists himself back onto his chair, leaning against the section of wall closest to her. It's not very comfortable but comfort becomes secondary when small people are involved.] ELN-1470. That's an odd name, if you don't mind me saying. Do the numbers hold any significance? Is that rude of me to ask?

[pocketpal]

[ He's being friendly.

Why is he being friendly.

This leaves her somewhat disoriented, and she slips, catching herself on a little screwhead in the wall. Not in any danger, just a little bit ruffled. ]

I was ELN number one thousand, four hundred and seventy to be decanted in the manufacturing process of SISC0117.

[ Is it rude? No one's ever asked her that question before. They all just knew. ]

[noctiphile]

Oh-[He jumps a bit as she slips, reaching forward with open palms in a hope to catch her. When it's clear she doesn't need it, his hands retreat, if somewhat sheepishly.]

Manufactured? So you were made? That's-that's fantastic! And for there to be one thousand, four hundred and seventy more of you? Amazing. Although-I suppose it might not be for you. Individualism and all of that. If you value that at all. [He laughs, lightly.] Different cultures value different things.

[There's an awkward chuckle at the end of that sentence followed by a pause. A momentary realization. Smoothing his hair back, he smacks his head lightly.] Oh, where is my head? You gave me your name and I forgot to tell you my own. I'm Mattias. Mattias Larnaca. I'd shake your hand but... [Well.]

action

[noctiphile]

general

[Mattias tries to keep to himself, he really does. He's glued to his station most of the time, decrypting a lot of things he really shouldn't be and surrounded by books he really shouldn't have taken from a certain intellectual moon. Still, there are times when a man's mind wanders and his feet can only follow. In those periods, expect him to be wandering the ship, poking around and being rather fascinated by, well, everything. Including the toilet. And showers! Advanced plumbing is such a marvelous invention.]

mattias no cw: neckstabbing

[There is one particular day, however, that he gets it in his head to be profoundly stupid. He's heard the warnings, watched the broadcasts, and yet still nicks a knife from the kitchen to do a bit of, uh. Impromptu surgery. Or, at least, an attempt at it. The truth is he doesn't get very far and so you may hear some rather pained hisses and groans. Maybe some shouts. He's in pain. Tremendous amounts that have left him panting on the floor, clutching the side of his bleeding neck. Still, should anyone pass by, he'll look up and smile. Perhaps wave a dismissive hand.]

Ah, hello. Just-doing a bit of experimenting. Sorry for the noise. Do you think you could get me some needle and thread? Oh gods. This really is unpleasant.

mattias why

[mysterzie]

[ Of all the things Aaron expects to come across on this motley little ship full of annoying people, this... this is not one of those things. The shouting and the pained noises and such have him teleporting in like someone suddenly turned his opacity back up to 100% from zero and there's just a moment of shocked stillness.

Then he kneels down and tries turning Mattias around to see the wound for himself. ]

What the fuck just happened?! What did you do?

because i wanted to is a good reason right

[noctiphile]

The augment. Ah-please. No. Don't touch it. It doesn't like to be touched. I'm-finding that out.

[He laughs but it's breathless, his hand trembling as he tries to bat him away. An obnoxious side effect. The pain itself was dulled by his own training but the emotional impact was something he hadn't expected. Not to this degree. It was something that needed to be prepared for and he had severely underestimated.] Please. Just... get me needle.

to anybody else, no. to aaron? probably

[mysterzie]

[ Aaron backs off for a moment, eyes wide before he disappears again. He comes back relatively quickly with an entire first aid kit. Where did it come from? Probably better not to ask. He starts to rifle through it for what looks like sharp implements paired with thread and pulls it out. ]

This is going to help, right?

he knew you were a pal

[noctiphile]

Yes, goddess. Let's hope you can stitch better than you can recognize a needle.

[It's the pain talking. It's worsened since he left, hopelessness running abundant. Despair smothers like a blanket and longing is crushed under the heel of inability over and over. It's every sensation of loss he's felt manifested in a single compounded pain.

Uncovering the wound on his neck, he forced himself still, hands clenching into the fabric of his pants.] Fix me, would you?

bestest pal even if he takes your face sometimes

[mysterzie]

[ Aaron scowls, but this is like some kind of really twisted challenge and he's not going to back down. He works with the thread on the needle and gets some gauze to soak up the blood so he gets a look at what he's working on. This is easy. It'll be easy! They do this kind of thing on TV all the time and how hard can sewing be?

He places his hand, as gentle as he can be when he's trying so damn hard to not freak out, on the side of the wound and inserts the needle at the bottom where he intends to start. Blood is still everywhere but at least now he's got a mental image of where he's working. ]

You'd better hold still.

crashes this thread

[pocketpal]

What are you doing?

[ - squawks the tiny indignant voice of a tiny indignant person, standing in the doorway. ]

Put that needle down immediately.

What is going on?

makes it worse

[lord_wizard]

[There is far too much shouting for this tiny little ship, which leads Felix to come investigate, probably almost stepping on their captain in the process]

I see the madness is spreading already.

[lord_wizard]

kitchen

[Not long after the jarring event that is the shuffle, Felix finds himself in the Starstruck's kitchen (or whatever term applied on a spaceship), staring in disbelief. Firstly, it was charitable to call it a kitchen as he knew the word. Secondly, the augment had made it known that this slice of his new hell was supposed to be his domain of expertise. Paradisa had forced a little bit of that sort of knowledge on him over the course of time and necessity. He was not, by any stretch, a good cook.]

They must be joking.

general

[It may become apparent over the course of the week that while Felix has a tendency to insinuate himself into situations he hoards his own personal space and privacy fiercely. The castle may have been an exercise in psychological torture, but at least he got his own room. But there's not much to be done about that - at least until he can alter the situation.

In the meantime, while he's on board he uses small strategies to insulate himself at his most vulnerable. He claims a bottom bunk and uses a spare blanket to create a curtain for himself. When showering, which he does often, he goes as far as to magically lock the door behind him, and even changes before leaving. Anything to hide the scars. He refuses to have that conversation with...pretty much anyone.]

closed to aaron

[noctiphile]

[Guilt is not an emotion that visits Mattias. Not often. It comes and goes, fleeting as a bird's wings, never staying for long. He occupies himself with other sentiments, other goals. Things that don't weigh so heavily. Things that won't slow him down.

Yet still, some things slip through. A death, a wound, the look in Aaron's eyes as he stared at the blood. Those types of images haunted him. Made him restless, always moving. He couldn't leave it be. So he doesn't.

Unfortunately, the disappearing shapeshifter is a pain in the ass to track. One moment he's calling his name, the next, he's gone. It takes him a full day to finally corner him in the crew quarters, standing in the doorway as if that'd actually make a difference. Or maybe it's for another reason entirely. Who knows.]

Aaron? May I speak with you?

[mysterzie]

[ Thankfully for Mattias, this is regular behavior for Aaron. He hasn't been avoiding the other so much as just busying himself with all the things these moons have to offer and putting the whole incident out of his mind as far as humanly possible via other, very distracting means. When he sees Mattias in the doorway, he isn't threatened or even realizing the exit is blocked. ]

Uh, sure. Why not. What's up?

[noctiphile]

It's about yesterday. [A frown flickers at the mere mention. He falls silent, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, fingers strumming against his opposite arm.]

How should I ask this? [He mutters, biting his lip.] Have you ever dealt with an injury before?

[mysterzie]

[ Aaron just isn't prepared for that question. He's been hoping to put it behind him and let everyone else deal with it in their own time, too. He's taken aback and frowns at Mattias. ]

Of course. Everyone gets hurt sometimes.

[ Just... not to that extent. ]

[noctiphile]

True, but there's a difference, isn't there? A broken leg is far different than an open stomach. [A beat. No, that's not quite right.] Depending on how you break the leg, of course.

[There are more permanent ways but he leaves those out. If blood is enough to freak him out, bones are likely no different. He sighs, gesturing with a hand.] A broken bone is often unseen. An open stomach... [Again, it's best not to describe what that looks like.] Let's say it's rather bloody.

You don't like it, do you? The blood. [Or maybe the violence itself. He thinks back to the way Aaron looked at his hands, the way he retreated into himself and the possibilities that produced. Trauma, for one. Lack of experience, another. A phobia, perhaps, for a far less interesting third. Mattias found himself yearning for the answer, curiosity bound only by the knowledge that it was inappropriate to ask.]

[mysterzie]

[ Aaron is not really liking the way this is going. He shifts his footing, obviously uncomfortable. ]

Are you headshrinking me or something?

[noctiphile]

What? [Mattias' brow furrows, caught off-guard by the question.]

No. Even if I had the ability to do so, I can assure you I have no desire to shrink your head.

[It's not literal, Mattias.]

[mysterzie]

Then I guess we're done here.

[ Because if Mattias isn't trying to psychoanalyze him, then there's no reason to be asking all this! Flawless logic. ]