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]

It's different.

[Nothing inherently likeable or unlikable. Only a different state of being.]

People ask me how long I've been here, and I have to do the sum in my head, lest I give an answer that's entirely too long to be real.

[axiomed]

What do you mean by that?

[exothermia]

The gap. [The ten year gap.] It made it difficult to remember the exact number of months, for a while.

[axiomed]

Ah . . .

[ His mood slips, a little. ] It would do that.

[exothermia]

[Erik runs his finger down the length of a fork, considering.]

But... I think you're right, that time feels normal here. Even if other things aren't. People celebrate birthdays, holidays. New years.

[In a way, it helps to have that normalcy of a calendar to fall back on. A week passes. A date arrives. A year ticks over, even if they don't know which year it is. It's scaffolding for living.]

[axiomed]

[ Charles sighs. ]

I suppose a couple of celebrations helps with the monotony. It just bothers me to know so much time passes in a place like this.

[exothermia]

Mm. I feel the same way, sometimes.

[axiomed]

Only sometimes?

[ But Charles lets him off. ]

I've made the most of it before. But these days - it feels harder.

[exothermia]

[He just nods. Erik doesn't have the same responsibilities waiting for him at home that Charles does.]

I wouldn't make it an obligation, to get the most out of your time here.

[axiomed]

I don't believe you're guilty of that. But I wouldn't blame anyone either for it. I think it just frightens me.

[ He pauses. ]

I do, however, owe you an apology.

[exothermia]

[He had meant it more for Charles, to say that he shouldn't feel the need to fill every day with something meaningful. But he blinks at his next few words, faintly confused.]

For what?

[axiomed]

[ He hesitates. ]

I realized that, while on the surface I seemed very helpful, I wasn't doing so wholeheartedly. You probably had noticed that.

[ Again a long pause. Confessions of any kind tend to cost him, but Charles would always see it through. ]

I'm sorry. I said I would have hope, but in my heart, I didn't believe myself.

[exothermia]

[Erik stares at Charles for a long moment, knowing how difficult this must be to say. To admit. The truth was that Erik had noticed a chill in Charles's earnestness, and had attributed it to exhaustion with Erik, compounding further and further with the hideous mess their relationship had become. It hadn't surprised him, though maybe it had bothered him quietly, when he could stand to admit it to himself. Why should Charles have to deal with every single one of Erik's problems? From that had been borne the worry that it was mere obligation that kept Charles in his orbit at all.

It wasn't a failing. It was normal. No one can give constantly. No one can hold hope without wavering. Especially not with circumstances being what they were.

Erik clasps his hands together on the table.]

You don't have to apologise. You had a lot to deal with yourself, without adding more to your plate. None of this has been easy.

[axiomed]

No.

But I made it harder. The things that I - [ blamed ] - took issue with were the mistakes I was also making. I forgot what my promises really meant.

So I do have to apologize for it.

[exothermia]

[He knows this kind of confession, from his own experience only a month ago. Erik may not fully understand the meaning behind it, but he does understand how important Charles feels it is to say.]

All right. I accept your apology.

[axiomed]

[ He blinks, perplexed. ]

That was . . . quick.

[exothermia]

Charles, you haven't done anything to me that I blame you for.

[axiomed]

Erik, I haven't done anything for you either. The actions I would take, the things I would say.

[ He sighs. ]

I've pushed you lately into admitting what you wanted, among other issues. But I haven't done the same.

[exothermia]

[That doesn't seem true. The first thing he thinks of is his birthday - that, more than anything, had helped Erik start to inch out of his fog of grief. Maybe that hadn't been done with complete sincerity, if what Charles is saying is true. But the result couldn't argued with. And Charles hadn't needed to do it, whatever he might say.

Erik picks at the tablecloth with a fingernail.]

Don't sell yourself short, just because your whole heart wasn't in it. Because you have done things for me. And they mean something to me.

[axiomed]

I — [ He swallows, on the verge of something else before subsiding. ] I hope so.

[exothermia]

...Charles.

[If Charles feels guilty for pushing Erik without pushing himself, then now's the time to push back in turn. That wasn't all he was going to say.]

[axiomed]

[ He doesn't reply. Until finally, he pulls out the memory of his discussion with Beverly, his coloured his own perceptions were. How badly he spoke of Erik to others until hearing it back was a shock to his system. Shame, fear and finally a sense of acceptance, an admittance of a fault and a reclaiming of what Charles had really believed in but stopped preaching: his hope. ]

[exothermia]

[Only now does the apology really make sense. Even then, it's been a long time since Charles has shared anything quite so raw with Erik. He's not used to it - and the nature of it.

He feels his insides twist at the emotion and the things said to Beverly. "He ran away because he was scared. He only loves me until something better comes along." Some part of him wants to argue that it's not true, that his leaving was more to do with his own problems than anything Charles did. Another more hysterical part hisses back that he shouldn't have to defend himself from something that wasn't his fault, for a decision he had made that had lead him to other irreplaceable things in his life. He hits that impasse in the middle, the same one he's always at, where he has two right answers and no way of voicing either.

It was one thing to worry that Charles had (had) resented him for everything that happened. It was another entirely to have it confirmed.

Erik looks away, inhaling a shaky breath. There's too much to process at once.]

[axiomed]

[ He waits. Charles doesn't expect anything else, but he'll wait. He wonders if this is it: the final blow. Perhaps a revelation that has come far too soon for Erik, when he's not ready to deal with it.

But he's said what he needs to. He's apologized. There's little else he can do at this point. ]

[exothermia]

[After a few splintered moments where he stares blankly into space, Erik gets up. He steps away from the table, needing a modicum of distance. The restaurant's faux-nautical decor swims in front of him as he wrestles with the ocean of feelings Charles has chosen to dump on him, without so much as a life raft.

Without turning around, he speaks, voice tight.]

That wasn't talking to me about it, you realise.