driftfleet | mingle a little Mor tonight

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mingle a little Mor tonight

Who: Everyone!
Broadcast: Sure!
Action: The wonderful world of Mor, nearby way-stations, and ships!
When: The first week or so of arrival

[this is it-- Atroma's surprise vacation stay for you all! it's time to explore, speculate, relax, and totally behave yourselves. right?

how are you all dealing with the ever-so-educational volcano? have you played around with the visual toggle on those collars yet? aren't they cool? aren't these peasant clothes rad? if you haven't had a decent meal since Abeo, maybe you could afford some of that authentic farm-raised meat they have here. historical!

I bet you're all excited and completely thrilled to be here! who wouldn't be? ...so, make some discoveries, make some friends, and have fun!]

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[oh... okay. all right. he pauses, for a moment.]

How many months to a season? I swear this is going somewhere.

This is possibly the strangest interrogation I've ever had. [But he's laughing, if quietly.]

Aikaithe and Gannene are both three months, Kleiton is the longest at six.

Ah, all right. [he nods. he thinks. he bites down in his lip, idly, doing the math... and then his face positively brightens.]

Riem! On my world, your birth would fall under Riem's king-sign...

[he... it's just a coincidence. one ninth of the population falls under that sign. it's nothing more than a horoscope, but... it's stupid how delighted he gets, thinking that the stars might have divined him to fall under his influence more than the others.]

[Oh, he gets it now. He cants his head, leaning a bit closer.]

Riem? Which one is that?

My second favorite. The King of Pain, they call him.

[which might seem alarming to an outsider, he understands--quickly following in with an explanation. he speaks so... kindly about it. gushing, a little.]

I know it sounds unflattering, but he's so much more than that. He lords over suffering and the release from it; both the cost and the reward. Pain can make a person strong. One person's pain can benefit the lives of thousands. He's... He is a reminder that one can't feel joy without first knowing what it is like to hurt.

Said to be a tall... [he looks up, imagining the statues he's seen depicting--ironically--himself.] ...pale figure, with blood-red eyes. Often depicted wearing white and silver.

[He watches Robin with muted adoration, trying to hold back a smile and only partially succeeding. Every word he says seeps in and causes a bubble of laughter that he has to hold back with pursed lips, nodding at all the necessary points instead.]

A pale figure in white and silver. [He tests the image on his tongue, lips twitching as he attempts to hold the laughter back. Alas, his efforts are fruitless. A giggle bubbles out, followed by a chuckle, and then a laugh, light and fluttering. His head tips back and one head moves to his forehead as the entire temple turns to look but he doesn't seem to mind as the laughter dies down, body sinking in the seat. Tilting his head, he speaks on the remnants of a chuckle.] Well, it fits. If anything, I was bred to suffer.

[It'd sound more dramatic if he didn't say it like a joke. Turning back to Robin, he smiles, all previous signs of tension gone.] And what king-sign are you?

[oh... dear. they're going to kick them out of the temple, at this rate. there's probably a three-strikes condition that they're running dangerously close to. but Robin doesn't care so much anymore; he came here for a place to hide, but he wouldn't mind being asked to leave if Mattias could leave with him.

he's glad. it's good that he's feeling better. it's... stupid of him, but he's right there, trying not to laugh himself. even when he says something like that, it makes him think they've got a little more in common ]

My very favorite, of course... Ha'it, the King of Life and Death. A beautiful woman with flowers in her golden hair...

[it's funny that he wasn't born under his own sign, but Finch's instead. but... it fits.]

Dominion over all the cycles of life. All starts and finishes, all beginnings and ends. Nothing lasts forever, but nothing truly disappears, either... [a happy little sigh.] She's associated with healing and the seasons, and the spirit of the world itself.

Nothing lasts forever, but nothing disappears. [He repeats it softly to himself, the smile from his laughter remaining but fading to something nostalgic.] I like that. Those you lost are always with you.

[His smile broadens as he shifts in his seat to better cross his legs.] I like the duality in your Kings. Nothing's truly bad and nothing's truly good. Though I still think I got shafted. The King of Life and Death sounds much more impressive than the King of Suffering.

[He chuckles, then frowns.] I do hope that's not sacrilegious.

[that makes him smile, ear to ear, but not for whatever reason Mattias might think...]

No, I agree with you. And it's only sacrilegious in some regions; you may yet make it through one of the big cities without someone hounding you about your brash words.

[He laughs. Quieter, this time.]

Some regions? Oh, good. That's a better score than back home.

[There's a pause and the smile wanes.] You know, I don't think you've ever told me about your cities. Don't tell me you're saving it for a later date.

I don't believe I have, no. I'd be happy to share now, if you don't mind having your research further interrupted.

[...he knows he doesn't, but they were doing other things before this, weren't they? maybe he just wants to hear him say that he doesn't mind.]

You think I don't count this as research?

[He adjusts himself, holding his chin a bit higher. There's something mocking to his movements, though. As though he's making fun of himself.] Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think. I'd be happy to hear.

Mm... [it's a nice save. he seems pretty amused. best of both worlds.

he'll start with the basics:] Well, most of our cities are underground.

Completely underground? [Hm. No. Still hard to picture.] How do you grow your crops?

Not very well, honestly. There was a lot of starvation early on. Ah, because I haven't explained yet-- [he holds up a finger, mentally backtracking a little bit.] There was a Third End as well, one where a worldwide cataclysmic event wiped out most of the world's population. Survivors hid underground, as it was the only place not... exposed to everything trying to kill them.

[That makes him straighten a bit.]

What was the event?

[dryly:] The Priesthood tells us that humans built their cities too high. They became prideful, got too close to the Kingdom of Souls, where the Gods are said to reside. The Gods struck humanity down to make them pay for their insolence, and remind them of their place.

I don't believe that, though. [he reaches forward to... tap the back of the pew in front of them. he's got short little nails. it makes a dull sound. tap tap tap.] The Priesthood uses that story to keep people scared and inspired and manageable. The Gods may have allowed it, but the world itself is what caused the change.

Humans exhausted their resources. Cut down the forests, poisoned the oceans, ruined the air... There were too many people, too big a strain. And then, having forgotten she was a living thing, everyone was so surprised when the wounded animal bit them back.

The world itself... [He tests it on his tongue but it doesn't conform. An unmalleable rock, it rests in his mouth, stalling his speech until he swallows it with a heavy gulp.] I never thought it could do that. That... we could do that.

[It brings up a sea of questions, more than a few dealing with the nature of his own world. But those lead to areas that are far too painful to consider, his own motives getting called in for question. It's not something he can accept and absolutely not something he wants to think of right now. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he scrunches up his eyes for a deep breath before relaxing.] —I'm interrupting. You were to tell me of your city?

Right, yes... [he knows it's depressing. his world seems to be one calamity after the other. he's actually kind of jealous that other people's worlds appear more... stable. not dependent on magic and the "delicate balance" to stay whole.]

Most cities are underground. Some of our food is grown very carefully under the special sunlamps we've managed to maintain and rebuild over the years. Some is grown or lives naturally down in the caves. In the last... Hundred years, or so, humans have been able to come back up onto the surface, and the farming they've managed has greatly improved life expectancy and population of the world below.

[but enough of that...]

Skeleton City used to have another name, but no one bothers with it anymore. It's said to be the place where all wandering souls go to live. Walking down into those tunnels is... Like walking into a hive, with layers and layers of homes carved out from stone. It's cold, but the colored lights bounce off the walls and make it look so warm... The top levels are always filled with chatter, music, glowing storefronts, bright railings, a maze of ups and downs, secret stairways, gated passages...

[he's speaking so fondly again...] And the surface world, it's so much better know. Gratia was able to regrow very quickly, with everyone hiding below. The forests are very alive, and the air is clean. People live carefully there. It's nice.

[It's difficult to keep quiet for the entire explanation. As usual, he's consumed by questions. The shape of the city, the crops they grow, the location of their water supply—searching for any similarity in an explanation full of them. There are differences, of course, but it's familiar enough for him to imagine and that's enough to give him some hope.]

A world regrown. [He smiles.] A happy ever after, then. I must say, you had me worried, Robin. The way it was going, I was afraid your home would never see a light of hope. [Ducks his head, he laughs bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck.] It was nice hearing you speak of it. [The fondness in it... Mattias will remember it for days to come.] Thank you.

[Still smiling, he scans the temple. People have stopped staring at them, placated by their lowered tones throughout the conversation.] It seems we still have some time before they kick us out. And after all that, I can't help but feel the need to offer answers in return. So, [looking back to Robin, grinning] is there anything else you'd like to know?

You are welcome. [his smile could not be warmer, his eyes full of a love for his own world.] For all of its shortcomings, I'm still rather attached to it.

[and now... it's his turn for another question. he could ask many things... and there's a lot that he'd like to know. about his home, his gods, his demons. what he likes, what he doesn't like. what the politics are like, where he fits into them. that warm expression falters as something occurs to him, and he looks... away...

he seems... hesitant. not in a nervous way, but in a way that's very dry. perhaps he shouldn't ask. he's already ruining the mood just thinking about it. but... when else is he going to get such an invitation for questions?]

...So, that part where you were grievously injured before your arrival...

[For a moment, time stops. His face freezes, caught in a taut smile that shrinks once time resumes. Swallowing, he finds his throat thick, his fingers already curling into the fabric above his stomach. With a start, he shakes his grip free, laughing nervously.]

Really? Of all the stories, you'd—It's really nothing!—it—it was foolish—[He breathes out a laugh, enthusiasm draining from his tone.]—it's... [A hand smooths over his hair as a sigh escapes, utterly defeated.] Oh, fuck it.

[He says it sourly, joy drained from his eyes as he turns back.] I was a sacrifice. [There's a why, a how, an explanation of mechanics, but he says none of it. Saying something would only acknowledge it as true.] Stabbed. Twice. Here. [He moves his fingers over his stomach, wetting his lips as he shrugs.] It—it was odd. I knew I was dying but I couldn't feel any of the pain.

[Ducking his head, he rubs the back of his neck.] Anyway, the wound was meant to compel Nocta from me. And... it did. [Chuckling:] That nearly killed me a second time but... somehow I managed. I rejoined with her. Made a pact. She healed me. Like a... [he gestures over the wounds] ... stopper for the wounds. It only lasts as long as she's with me.

[He doesn't tell him about the rest. The abduction, the torture, the hopelessness, the knowledge that the line between demon and god was near invisible. It's all better off kept far away. ]

When I came here—when they took her from me—I should have died upon arrival. [Offering a docile grin, he shrugs.] They saved me.

Mm. [whatever his immediate reaction is, he keeps it well hidden. the fingers of his freer hand move to his mouth, where he presses against it in deep thought.] ...Thank you for telling me, Mattias. I have a lot of other questions, of course, but that sates my curiosity for now.

[he smiles a little--or perhaps it's more of a smirk.]

I'm afraid you can't just get stabbed and then not tell the story.

[Yet, somehow, he can get away with not telling all of it. Small blessings. He offers a thin smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]

Well, one can hope.

[But Robin always knows when to stop. When to push and when to give. It's a skill he envies and one he admires. Shifting, he clears his throat, leaning in conspiratorially.] Now, if you're all out of questions and I'm all out of questions [startling, really] what say we get out of here?

[he knows when to push and when to leave it to percolate. he could have probably bullied Mattias into giving him all of the answers, but that's not what friends do. that's not what good strategists do, either. and he is trying very hard to do both.

it's given him enough to think about, for now. and he's being almost charming, good for him. Robin leans back in so close that their faces almost touch.]

Let's.

[he leans away again, taking back his arm, standing up--smiling pleasantly like it was nothing and that it really is their time to leave.]

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noctiphile - 2015-03-25 22:24 (UTC) - Expand

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