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

[axiomed]

[ Charles doesn't say anything. As if he didn't quite hear it, but his face has gone pale. ]

Erik that's not — [ He falters because again, he feels the sting of his own feelings. ] — I should know that. You didn't do that to me.

I don't want to be something you regret. But I made myself out to be and I — [ He stops because Charles also doesn't know how to express it fully. ]

[exothermia]

[Erik shakes his head briefly, looking down at the table rather than at Charles's face.]

I don't regret you.

[axiomed]

[ He could feel himself cracking at the seams. With a shuddering breath, he tries to rein himself in because this wasn't the point, he didn't share this so he could get that answer, so he could put his fears to rest.

But his voice cracks. ]

You can be angry and leave it at that.

[exothermia]

[Things rarely go as planned between them. Erik is in dangerous waters already, far beyond the small steps he had been taking. Charles has pushed him there just as surely as he's pushed Erik at other times, even if this was for the purpose of revealing his wrongdoings. He grimaces at the thought.

He could turn around and leave right now. It wouldn't even be to prove Charles right, dash him to pieces right when it would hurt most. It would be to spare himself further frustration. Part of him wants to, smarting and bitterly unsurprised that this has happened.

But.

Erik looks back up, expression stony and thoughts stormy.]

I am angry. Make no mistake. But if you think that's the end of this story, then you're wrong.

[axiomed]

[ With a shaky exhale, he closes his eyes and nods. ]

I was wrong about a lot of things.

[exothermia]

[Erik knows there's a lot of second-guessing in his future. What steps he had taken feel shakier now, as though he hadn't realised he was walking on ice until he finally looked down. And yet, he thinks with bleak humour, it's nothing different from what he already expected. He had expected Charles to refuse him when he said he wanted to come home.

Eyeing him, Erik turns some of his bitterness aside and holds on to the fact that these things are in retrospect. Charles had held his heart out, knowing full well that Erik could plunge a dagger into it and be justified in the act. There's a familiar kind of symmetry in that.

He moves closer and wraps his arms around Charles's shoulders. It's a bit stiff, restrained as it is by the barrage of feelings they've been hit with.]

And now you've been told as much.

[axiomed]

[ The silence that descends is neither awkward or comforting. Quietly, he asks. ]

Will you still come home?

[exothermia]

Yes.

[It had never been in question for him. Had this been a revelation that Charles truly hated him, then - yes. He would not have returned. But that isn't what this was. What this was was a mess, just one that will take some untangling.]

[axiomed]

[ He smiles, teary-eyed as he places his hand on top of Erik's. ]

Then I'm satisfied.

[exothermia]

[He lets out a breath, resting his head against Charles's.]

[axiomed]

[ He leans back against him, just taking in the moment. ]

[exothermia]

[The moment passes, and Erik pulls away. He returns to his seat, looking down at the food he had forgotten was there and wondering just what he's meant to do with it now.]

[axiomed]

[ Charles gives him a shaky smile. ]

Dig in.

[exothermia]

[Erik doesn't smile back, but he does start eating. He feels so far distant from the start of this dinner - this date - that he might as well be eating a different meal.

But it's the same meal, and he does remind himself of that.]

[axiomed]

[ Charles tamps down on his instinct to flee. It would do no good and he's made his bed. His voice feels locked in his throat. In an effort to disappate his own tension, Charles lets his telepathy wander to the other clientele of the restaurant, letting their emotions seep into his own, draining them away. ]

[exothermia]

[If Charles is waiting for conversation from Erik, he might be waiting a while. His thoughts are scattershot, swinging between extremes and the grey middle.

'He ran away because he was scared.'

The fork scrapes on his plate briefly, before he spears another piece of fish. In his own way, Erik is watching the other patrons, having already felt some of their stares and whispering from before.]

[axiomed]

[ He follows Erik's gaze. ]

They won't remember. I've diluted the memories already. Once they leave, it'll be . . . vague. Like a dream.

[exothermia]

[It's tempting to test that by hurling a table through the window. He clamps down on the thought, nodding in response.]

Like any argument seen from a distance.

[axiomed]

Like any.

[ He agrees quietly, reaching for his wine. The urge to drink was almost overpowering. ]

Still. Better to be safe and keep our privacy.

[exothermia]

[Erik just snorts. There's no such thing. They're watched at all hours. Believing otherwise just leads to disappointment. He can already feel the chill of it creeping into his gut again.]

[axiomed]

Some measure of it.

[ He doesn't need to read minds to know what Erik was thinking of. ]

Even if some ground is lost, it doesn't mean all of it must be. It's the least I can do.

[exothermia]

[Erik doesn't retort, because he knows now that it's pointless. The chill and the anxiety, those are his broken messes to bear.]

How's your food.

[axiomed]

It's lovely.

[ Hard to swallow with his own sinking gut, but Charles is genuine in his appreciation. ]

[exothermia]

Mm. It's good here.

[axiomed]

Did you come here first on your own?