You can check out anytime you'd like.. [Hotel Corona Mingle]

[thespaceopera]

Who: The Fleet!
Broadcast: If you want
Action: Hotel Corona or Planet Ikke
When: December 7th onward



[After the mystery and isolation of their last destination, the Marsiva seems determined to head to brighter, busier territory. After a long journey through remote, nebula-painted space, speeding along at a brisk pace for the Host ship, the Marsiva brings her Fleet to a sudden and prominent point of traffic.

It seems that the Fleet has happened upon some sort of vacation destination! Maybe Atroma thinks that the passengers deserve some rest and relaxation... or just wants to distract them with something huge and shiny.

Welcome to Hotel Corona! Feel free to enjoy yourselves and enjoy the sites! If a hotel resort isn't your thing, you can head on over to the nearby planet and explore it's icy wonders.

In order words: it's a mingle!! Everyone get in! ]

[>> Plot Post]

Comments

[exothermia]

In a way, yes. [Not as constant as games, but it's a regular marker. An event that's expected, part of the fabric of the place.] Whatever the reason for it is.

[axiomed]

[ A waiter comes with his tea and Charles calmly takes a sip of it, watching Erik. They've had this discussion before, but they're both feeling the strain of it. The hotel helps, a little, but not by much. ]

Is this what's been bothering you?

[exothermia]

[Erik takes his coffee from the same waiter, setting it down and stirring it.]

No... not really. It still concerns me. I just have other things on my mind more often. [He sips at his coffee, pensive.] I do want to go home though. [It would make their efforts more solid. Do things in their own world, rather than drifting through space.]

[axiomed]

[ He nods. It's still . . . odd to hear Erik saying he wants to come home, but Charles doesn't want to question it. ]

Other things?

[exothermia]

[Erik falls quiet for a moment, not quite ready to voice it. It's the same thing it's always been, for the last five... nearly six months. He has to close his eyes for a moment, when recognition of how long it's been settles in his gut.]

What to do... how to manage.

[axiomed]

[ It doesn't take Charles long to clue into what it might be. ]

Do you want to talk about it?

[exothermia]

[Erik glances at Charles, in a way that suggests he thinks Charles might vanish in a puff of smoke any moment. He can hear the shrieking of children down on the beach below, and he's struck with the absurdity of this place they've found themselves in, that they're talking like this with fake pineapples between them on the table. For a moment unreality threatens to sink in. Hadn't he come here for another reason?

He blinks finally, and has to set his mug back down, unsure of his hands.]

I don't know what there is I can say about it.

[axiomed]

What would you like to say? It doesn't have to be coherent or concrete. It just needs . . . life given to thoughts. To be real.

[exothermia]

[His expression tightens for a moment, because giving voice to it just drives a knife into the wound. That's been his experience so far, those times he's managed to talk about it. Still, it happens even when he doesn't. If he walks the hotel and sees a young girl who looks, at least from behind, like Nina, it renders him distraught for the rest of the day. No words needed to be spoken.

Toying with his mug gives him something to focus on, something physical. A memory rises to the surface, and it's that he gives voice to, in lieu of any deeper thought.]

They burned the house down.

[axiomed]

[ He can feel the flicker of memories and thoughts as they run through Erik's head before settling on something concrete. ]

I'm sorry, Erik. Were you . . . able to salvage anything?

[exothermia]

[He shakes his head slowly. He's long since past any modicum of anger or shock he might have had when he finally came upon the ruins of his house, months ago.]

Not from the house. But they hadn't-- touched the barn, and I kept some things there. [Partly out of habit, as he spent a lot of time working on things there. And partly as one of many contingency plans in case they had to run. For all the good it had done.] I suppose it's all still out there, with the things I had before coming back here.

[axiomed]

Will you go back?

[ He doesn't sound bothered by this, but he imagines it's not easy for Erik to return there. ]

[exothermia]

No. [There's no hesitation, or reluctance in his tone.] There's nothing for me to go back to there. I did what I went to do. [Gather what things he could, and one more task that he wouldn't share, not even with Charles. It was personal - between him, Magda and Nina.]

I realised the other day that... I'm glad the house was destroyed. [He looks up again, meeting Charles's eyes.] I'm glad it's gone. Because the idea that someone else could live there is even worse.

[axiomed]

[ He nods slowly. ]

I imagine it is. To have someone else take over that history.

[exothermia]

It's not theirs. It never was. [They had taken everything else from him, but not his memories. By torching the house that had been their home, they had protected that in their hatred. It was no less bitter, yet it was a relief to know that no one would repaint the walls he and Magda had painted, sleep in Nina's room. That would be unbearable.]

But... it also means there's even less of them in the world.

[That's the hard part. They had been so full of life, so worth remembering, and now few would ever notice or care that they had gone. Erik did, and always would. It doesn't seem enough.]

[axiomed]

Then . . . maybe you need to find a way to tell their story.

[ He pauses. ]

In whatever way you deem worthy.

[exothermia]

[His heart crumples just a bit, because that had been his hope for Nina, once. That she would carry forward his story, and that of his parents, and she would be the link to a future that wasn't as dark as his past.

It hadn't happened that way. He'd been a fool to believe it.

But Charles doesn't mean it like that. There's merit in what he says, only... Erik himself isn't worthy of the task.]

I don't know how to do that.

[axiomed]

I know.

[ His tone is gentle. ]

But you're the only one who can.

[exothermia]

[He nods, quiet. There isn't anyone else. He's the only remaining link in the chain. Letting out a breath, Erik looks over the balcony, collecting himself.]

I'll think about it.

[axiomed]

[ He nods. Charles imagines there is a lot about Erik's family that he's still trying to figure out, trying to deal with. This is a small part in that. ]

You'll find a way.

[exothermia]

[He can't quite bring himself to agree. Not yet. There are days like this where he feels like someday he might reach that point, but there are others where it's too impossible, too painful. Hermione and Tempest had told him it was all right to be a wreck, for as long as it took. Erik just wonders if he'll ever be at peace with it. He's not good at laying demons to rest.

Looking back to Charles, Erik picks up his coffee again.]

I'll still try to retrieve my things, when I go back. So I can bring them with me.

[axiomed]

Of course.

[ He sips his tea. It's . . . comforting, in a way, to hear Erik's plans out loud. It doesn't give Charles security, but it feels he's in the loop, so to speak. ]

[exothermia]

[It reminds him, faintly, of when he returned from Kyriakos and had been sent back to where he was beforehand. When he had told Charles before they left that it might take him a few days to return to the mansion. He'll make no promises this time, even if he means them with all his being. All he has is his intentions.

Setting his mug down, Erik leans over to retrieve his bag.]

I also have something for you.

[axiomed]

[ He blinks, surprised. ]

For me? What for?

[exothermia]

It's a thank you.

[He pulls out a thin, rectangular item from his bag, wrapped in plain paper. When he hands it over to Charles, it feels heavy.]

Originally... I was going to give it to you with that letter. [His lips twitch a bit.] But things didn't quite work out that way.