driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Heron crew + visitors
Broadcast: no
Action: the SS Heron
When: November

[Those spooky scary skeletons are back in the cupboard for another year, but the ship cruises onward. Whether the crew is taking a break from the planetary mystery and waystations, or just generally hanging around the ship mingling, the Heron is here for you.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mm. Mine only went to one person. It was annoying, more than anything else.

[Old hat, almost. The gaining of Wrath's perceptions had been disorienting, but shortlived.]

Mine went to two people. They took it . . . as well as anyone having my powers would.

[He only nods. He has had Charles's powers before; it's a lot to grasp, easy to be overwhelmed with.]

I don't think the recipient of mine had a particularly easy time either. I've never considered what it must feel like to someone unfamiliar with it.

Overwhelming, I imagine.

[ It always is. He takes a bite of his bar. ] Among other things.

Well. It was only temporary.

Everything here is, though. Everything is temporary.

[Erik catches his eye for a moment.]

Yes. Everything is temporary. It's the moment that has meaning.

[ He purses his lips. Charles was deliberately playing devil's advocate here. ]

If it's remembered. This place is like . . . well, these places sometimes can be like the tree in the forest. If it falls down and no one is there to see it, does it make a sound?

[It's a question he's pondered himself, in the aftermath of... everything. Erik hadn't expected Charles to raise it, so it takes him a little while to reply. He has a bite of his own food bar.]

It may not make a sound, but it leaves a mark. The tree still fell; the tree is still there. If you live each moment thinking, "I won't remember this," then soon enough you'll stop bothering to try anything.

[It would be easy, he knows.]

"Not trying" is not exactly a strong facet of my personality, I'm afraid.

All the better.

[He has no doubt that Charles will persevere no matter what.]

Perhaps.

I could use a holiday.

Really. I don't think I've ever heard you say that.

I can feel tired too.

[Erik nods; of course he can. Charles has voiced as much in the past, and Erik has read it in the lines of his face far more often.]

What would an ideal holiday look like for you, then?

I don't know. Venice is out. None of those barges seem particularly wheelchair accessible.

Maybe Africa.

Venice is overrated. [He had passed through there years ago, and found it unappealing. The place was sinking slowly, as well, no matter how romantic the setup was.] Africa could be interesting. One of those safari tours.

[ He shrugs. ]

Perhaps someday.

It would be a fascinating experience, no doubt.

[ He waves it off. ]

It's far off into the future anyway.

[Considering he's the one who brought it up, Erik gives the movement a cursory glance. It's not a common subject of conversation. Uncomfortable, maybe.]

Mm, yes. But my understanding is that people can spend quite a while planning ahead for such things.

We're not people. Not in that sense.

[Not like the masses of the ordinary, no. He smiles a bit.]

True. We're a different kind.

However, I can't imagine you not planning something like that down to the letter.

While that's true, I can't say my planning or expectations have been all that productive. If anything, they prepared me less for the realities I deal with.

So perhaps . . . it's better not to.

[Erik runs a finger along the edge of his notebook, toying with a piece of paper.]

It's because we can't plan for the unexpected. If we can't be flexible, to some extent... then you can't bend with the wind.