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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Hm? [He laughs, depositing the flowers with that constant smile.] Oh, no. Uncle Martell was quite accepting. His only fault was his obsession with continuing the family tree. My orientation simply made it harder for him to arrange for a child. I was fortunate in that regard.

[At the time, it had surprised him. It felt so second-nature to remain hidden that being accepted had felt obtuse and foreign.

Smile waning, he wades ahead, using the excuse of flower-hunting to hide it's fading presence.] I'm afraid my concerns for my family exceed the realm of disappointment.

[News had probably gotten back to Oramos by now. The lost Larnaca found as a traitor. A heretic. Questions would be asked, his family brought in for questioning. Had they known anything about it? Were they working with him? Mattias plays out the interrogation in his mind's eye, mouth set in a thin line, fingers pinched and twirling the stem of a stem of a flower.] I fear I've made a severe miscalculation back home.

[In his mind's eye he can see them hanging, limp feet swaying with every breeze. Or perhaps they'd be put on display, the family of the first heretic, impaled through the heart outside the athenaeum. It didn't matter the method, only that he would be the cause of it.]

Ah, but it's best to stray from dreary subjects when the day is so pleasant, don't you think? [With a forced smile, he tips his head back to soak in the sun. As if to further prove his joy, his spins in place, arms outstretched and welcoming, before tripping back in a spray of flowers. That, at least, pulls forth a genuine laugh.]

Edited (WORD CHOICE) 2015-03-17 19:36 (UTC)

[The abrupt shift in mood makes even Felix blink in surprise and draws a wan smile onto his lips. He's not a stranger to shoving away thoughts of the unpleasant under a more presentable mask, though he's not entirely sure the sudden cheer was completely fake. The man was remarkably hard to read sometimes, for someone so open.

He shook his head. It didn't make much sense. Whatever Mattias had done, Felix doubted he'd done so intentionally. As far as he was concerned, Mattias likely didn't have a malicious bone in his body, so he was at a loss to imagine what the man would have done to brand himself a traitor. Then again, malice could have little to do with it. He'd once been branded a traitor for actions not his own, and the memory brings with it distant echos of pain, fear, and madness.]

As you wish.

[Felix moves closer and considers for a moment offering a hand to help his crewmate up, but instead settles down on the grass next to him, setting the basket aside.]

Is there anything you can tell me about your home that isn't dreary, then? You have me curious.

Edited 2015-03-18 20:55 (UTC)

Something that isn't dreary? [He laughs, then hums in thought.]

What a difficult question. I suppose there's the smell. Nothing like this. [He gestures with a flower.] It was much more... manmade. Like a carnival of spices. Turmeric, cinnamon, nutmeg, saffron and ginger. The smell of homecooked meals just—everywhere.

[Despite himself, there's a smile growing as he breathes in deep. It tremors and twitches, pulling against resistance, but eventually broadens. He remembers one last thing. Propping himself up, he turns to Felix, eyes wide and manic.] And the dancing! Ha! How could I forget about that? [He shakes his head.] Our dances are by far the best in the world. Far better than this world's, too. It was bolder. A combination of... bullfighting and flirtation. Heavy footwork, clapping-[He laughs, blushing as he snakes his hips from side to side.]-a lot of swinging hips. Oh, it was fantastic. Uncle used to say it was the only way I could get someone to swoon.

[He's laughing at the thought, sitting up fully with his hands wrapped around his knees.] I'm not sure how much I believe him, but I was definitely more popular at parties than I was outside of them.

[The way Mattias describes it he can get a sense of it easily, just as he can see how that enthusiasm and manic energy would lend itself to a magnetic presence on the dancefloor. And he's absolutely sure Mattias' Uncle was more or less correct in his assessment. Swaying hips, indeed. Two seconds of that and Felix has to side a hitch in his breath by smoothing a lock of hair from his face.

The fact that he has no idea only makes him more seductive. It makes him want to show Mattias what he inspires as much it inspires slightly darker desires to stain that purity simply because he can.]

I can imagine. You're good at commanding attention without much effort. And people do tend to enjoy the company of those who are truly enjoying themselves.

[It's probably why he hasn't left the Starstruck by now. He's aware he's allowed, but something more than the diversion of Mor has stalled him.

Nonchalantly, he crosses his legs at the ankles and leans back on the palms of his hands.]

I'd like to see you dance sometime. Perhaps you could even teach me.

[His tone is soft. It's a subtle flirtation. The kind people who aren't really looking for it don't tend to notice. He can't quite help himself.]

Teach you? [Wide-eyed, he cocks his head. Warmth trims the edges of his chest, creeping in with a smile that's both flattered and fond.] It'd be my pleasure.

[The warmth doesn't leave. It settles like a feather, tickling him until he chuckles.] I'll have to go gentle on you, of course. And you'll have to accept the woman's part but... [He trails off with a smile, drumming his fingers against his chin.] You don't seem like someone foreign to the ballroom. I have faith.

[He's teasing and it relaxes him. Chases the last bit of tension from his shoulder like smoke. Out of everything, this is what he misses the most. The freedom of small jabs and smiles. The delight of dancing and the joy of sharing it.

He's happy and the thought strikes him like lightning.] And of course I'd be happy to dance for you. Though perhaps when we're on more solid ground.

[He waves a hand, pulling away from his knees.] But that's for another time. I've told you of the smells of my home. Now you tell me the sights of yours.

[Felix smiles softly, a genuine expression full of warmth far different than the blinding clarity of the kinds he used to charm other people. He's not the most graceful of people, but if there are steps he can learn, it may very well be something he can manage. Trying and failing wouldn't be such a terrible thing, if only to be in rhythm with another person. It's something he can have even if Mattias can't accept the kind of affection he'd offer]

That's true, though it's been a long time since I've been to a proper ball. And I suspect it will be longer still.

[Knowing Mattias, he'd half expected a question in response, but it still makes his heart lurch uncomfortably. Home. What was that to him? Was it the fragrant gardens of Nephele where he'd been born? Was it the dark corners of Mélusine where he'd once been a prostitute? Or was it the gilded, labyrinthine halls of the Mirador that he'd been exiled from? Perhaps it was all of that, but which could he tell Mattias.

His expression falters slightly, becoming a bit more sober, the smile strained at the edges with longing and pain.]

It's hard to remember sometimes. I was in Paradisa for more than four years, you know. [Which is a partial lie. Some parts of his life are quite fresh in his mind] But I lived even longer than that inside the Mirador, the stronghold and palace at the center of Mélusine. It was an old place, with additions built onto it in pieces for centuries, so that nearly every corridor and room was built of different styles, and interiors of every color like jewels strewn into the darkness. There aren't any windows there, you see. But...my favorite spot was always the battlements at night. I could look down at see the entire city spread out beneath me, glittering with lights. The spires and domes of the cathedrals. The moon reflected in the water of the river. It was very peaceful.

It sounds beautiful. I'm jealous. [His fingers fall to the grass, idly twisting at the stem of a crushed flower.]

Oramos—my home—didn't have rivers. Or the moon. I had to imagine it all. [He laughs, tipping his head back.] It's funny. When things got too heavy at home, I'd leave. Just... walk for hours to the limits of the city. We have these underground lakes, you see. Oramos is a huge crater—[he gestures a wide circle with his hands]—with all the lakes on the edges. It's where we get our water from. [But he waves a hand, dismissing the fact.] Anyway, I would spend hours crossing the city trying to get to these lakes just so I could imagine it. What darkness looked like. How it reflected. [Again, he chuckles, ducking his head sheepishly.] Then I come here and... it's a sight everyone's seen. So I'm stuck here, looking like an idiot, marveling at this sight everyone's had all their lives.

[Shaking his head, he scrapes teeth over his bottom lip, canting his head back towards Felix.] That's why I ask all these questions, you know. I want to experience all I've missed.

[It would be so easy to lean over and kiss those lips that it almost physically hurts to restrain himself from it. Maybe more so because Mattias has no idea what thoughts he's inspiring.]

Someone who asks questions is never an idiot. It's perfectly natural for you to wonder. And we are all of us out of our depth in one way or another.

[He has to turn his gaze away from the man's face in order to school the train of his thoughts, and focuses instead on the horizon]

Besides, I think your city sounds quite lovely in it's own way.

[The idea does make him glance back to Mattias, the puzzle drowning out the more unwelcome ideas]

There was really never any night in your world?

That's kind of you. [It's an opinion he doesn't share. His city is a pit of injustice parading around as religion. It's laws, it's rules, it's structure-everything about it feels broken. No, Oramos was nothing more than a thief, stealing the body, minds and souls of its inhabitants.

He's grateful for the opportunity to think of something else. Shaking his head, he runs a hand through his hair.] Once, we did. The ancient records claim the world was complete then. Much like this-[he gestures around them]-with forests, grass, trees. But then the gods fought and Orphoros, the sun, banished his sister to the world he left scorched.

[With a steady breath, his fingers return to the grass once more, fidgeting with the blades.] In short, our god hid the night from the rest of the world. Now, we live in constant daylight in a desert of his own making, fighting in persistent wars.

[He sighs.] It's a dreary place. Not like here. Or—Mélusine, was it?

[His expression takes a turn for the wry. Mattias seems rather content to spend his energy on hating his city, to the point that it seems far worse than any other world. Even this charade of a planet.]

No place is perfect. Especially not Mélusine. Oh, there are parts of it that I miss. And people. It can often be a dark and violent place. Our wars these days are all political. Full of back-handed diplomacy and subterfuge.

[He gestures and stares down at his hands, where the tattoos and symbols of his place in all blazed bright as day. They were nothing but reminders now that he'd been stripped of his title.]

The chair of the Lord Protector is much improved from the old days, but it is still somewhat removed from the city it protects. The city is rotten far to it's core in some places, but they don't see it. Or refuse to, because the effort of dealing with it isn't considered worth the risk.

[He knows far more about that part of the city than most because he came from it. That seedy underbelly had been his life, and he still returned to it from time to time in the hidden brothels and bathhouses of the Arcane.]

I've been to other parts of the world and found them more appealing in many ways. The gardens of Nephele in Troia, for example. They were more beautiful than I could ever describe. I stayed there for only a few months, but they weren't home to me.

[The Celebrants would have been more than happy to have him stay as long as he felt like it, but they wanted him for his inherent power and his native grasp of Marathine that no scholar there had. He was still a pawn there, place of birth or no]

My point is, distance from it may change your view on the matter.

Why, Felix. It almost sounds like you're scolding me! [His words hide a laugh that doesn't quite come out, bouncing instead from syllable to syllable.] But you may have a point. Even now, I miss things I never even favored. Chariot races, bullfights—[he smiles faintly]—my old uniform.

[A shrug.]

Small things, but if I could see them one last time... [It's just another road to the same location. Another thread of thought that leads to the same spool of consequences never considered. His smile flirts with something sadder before he forces it back, raising his head once more.]

Not that I regret giving them up. The sights I've seen during my travels, Felix—[Hesitantly, he touches his arm as if asking for permission, still uncertain if their relationship extends to touching.]—I wish I could show you. I think you'd love Renacht. It has the most magnificent library. Glass-domed and glass-floored so you can see the city above and the river beneath.

[He pauses, then pulls back, blushing lightly in realization.] Though that might be an average sight for you. I must admit, I'm fairly new to this wandering business. You seem quite the expert.

[He makes a soft sound of amusement, lips drawn together in a thin smile. Felix isn't at all offended by the statement, though it does make him wonder how worldly he really is. Does it count when almost every step of those journeys was never his idea? ]

Not as much as you might imagine, Mattias. I lived most of my life in that city and knew it like the back of my hand, but there were plenty of corners that would have been a stranger to me. [Mildmay had showed him that much. The secrets of Mélusine were not his alone.]

I experienced more than I would have ever have imagined in Paradisa, both terrible and wonderful, and I will admit that makes me immune to certain degrees of surprise from time to time. [It's something he's come to regret and something that all long term residents of the castle began to wonder eventually. Was nothing special? Were they completely numb to their own suffering? Was the constant toll of the castle on their souls eating away at whatever it was that made them who they were?]

But, there it always something that can surprise you. [Such as, in this instance, the random companionship of a man he's known barely a month and the vague fondness he feels as a result]

Renacht sounds beyond lovely. I got rather used to the immense library in the castle, but it did not have glass walls.

Oh, these weren't simple glass walls. They were panes cut to the shape of peacocks, all curling and folding up to the top of the—[Abruptly, he stops, caught mid-gesture with his hands. Sheepishly, he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.]—I should stop before I humiliate myself. As a child, I used to dream of it. To this day I still can't believe I stepped inside. [Shaking his head, he laughs again.] Ah, but there's nothing quite as shameful as childhood dreams, is there? Perhaps when I'm more prepared to suffer the embarrassment I'll tell you, Felix.

For now—[Arms and legs drawn out, he stretches, then flops to recline on his side, facing Felix with bright eyes.]—can you tell me more about this castle? I've heard mention of it a couple of times, but I'm still quite ignorant about it.

[Felix gives Mattias a bemused half-smile at the loving description of a place he'd increasingly love to see, if only so he could be treated to the other man's enthusiastic commentary. He supposes that Mattias is right, although the only reason his childhood dreams are shameful are because they're indicative of the truth of his past. He and Joline had fancied themselves royalty or siblings in a loving family - whatever fiction they could concoct to forget the reality that any mistake could mean pain or death at the hands of their Keeper.]

It's difficult not to talk about it, after that amount of time. [He sort of regrets that fact, but he can't exactly forget what turned out be a large portion of his adult life.]

[He glances aside at Mattias again, but the sight of him laying like that next to him only makes the earlier pang of desire redouble, and he has to look away, clearing his throat.] It's hard to know where to start, to be quite honest. Pick any one aspect, and I could go on for days. Or that's what it feels like...

[Mattias laughs lightly.] Felix! It's hard to pick an aspect when I know none of them! But fine.

[He pats the grass between them.] We'll start easy. How long were you there?

[It's an easy enough start, and he nods, partly in gratitude] Five years. In the greater scheme of things, it turned out to be one of the longer stays when compared to that of all the other residents during it's history. And, when I left, I was the second most senior remaining at the time. It wasn't uncommon for people to come and go in relative eye-blinks. You've likely already seen similar behavior in the fleet.

[Now that he's started, it's easier to continue. It's an old song now. One he's gone through hundreds of times for faces he's mostly forgotten in the duration.] I don't know the true nature of Atroma, but the castle was something like it but...not. It was more than just a place. It was a thing. A thinking creature vastly beyond our comprehension capable of magic that could alter landscapes. It kept us fed and housed in luxury. We would wish for nearly anything we desired and it would appear [He gestures, fanning out his fingers in mimicry] ...out of nothing.

[To think there were such things in the world. Mattias would be surprised if surprise hadn’t worn thin. At this point, he had accepted that anything could be possible. Even the most prominent of fantasies.

But at least that gesture with the fingers was pretty cute. He smiles.]

Five years in a castle that gave you anything. It’d be a paradise to some. A dreamer’s ambition, perhaps. Something equivalent to a fountain of youth. [He laughs at the mere thought.] I dare say you’ve stolen some poor man’s fantasy, Felix.

[But it doesn’t explain everything. Paradise doesn’t account for the bitterness with which he’s heard the castle recounted. There must have been a catch, a condition, that made it harrowing. Asking would be uncouth but he finds himself tempted anyway, opening his mouth to speak before restraint kicks in.] Did you enjoy it?

[It’s a good middle-ground.]

[It is, because it allows him to approach an uncomfortable subject from more comfortable ground, and he can answer the unspoken question behind those careful words.

He considers carefully, even then, gazing into the distance. He brings up a knee and rests a hand on it, a guarded gesture disguised as something casual.]

Sometimes. I had the opportunity to learn more than I ever would have known existed back home. Science, physics, mathematics, botany, mythology, literature...and of course magic. There was never a shortage of different systems and ideas to discover.

[It makes him think of Chimera, and he idly and selfishly misses his workroom and the place in the castle that had always been, in some measure his.]

Befitting a castle, we did occasionally have the most extravagant balls and parties. Some the castle put on for us and others more ambitious persons put together for various occasions. And in some ways it was like home. I could go up to the roof and look down at the city whenever I wished.

There was also the people I met. I had a number of good friends there whom I never would have crossed paths with. [The smile that had been on his lips turns immediately sad, as the thought reaches it's natural conclusion] And that was part of the problem. They could leave as soon as they came, without warning, as if they never existed at all. I watched it rip apart friends and lovers and families on a daily basis.

All of the castle's gifts were like that. Double-edged. It was impossible to escape being wounded by it. Sometimes the things it did were benign, but often enough they were far from it. It...twisted people. It could change you into anything. Turned them into monsters that had to be fought. It had the power to make you younger or older, or it could make you a different gender or an animal.

[Part of it is ridiculous as it sounds, and over time little things like that became a matter of course. Thing that were tolerated.

He laughs, bitterly, still not looking at Mattias.]

All that is second to the times we were simply attacked. Creatures of all types that came out of the woodwork to hunt, kidnap, and kill people. Or the times it plucked the nightmares out of or heads and put them on display for everyone to see.

[And there was more. So much more. So much of it impossible to explain all at once. His stomach twists into a cold knot at the truth at the center of all those facts]

The deeper truth is that all this was simply the symptom of the greater cause. The reason Paradisa existed.

[It started off so idyllic. A gathering of different worlds. Of knowledge and opportunity. Yet, somehow, it transcended quickly, a sanctuary turned into a slaughterhouse in a matter of minutes.

Mattias tries to imagine it. It's easy, given recent events. Being torn away from those who cared, being locked in a cycle of uncertainty, never knowing who would leave and who would stay. Yes, he could picture it well but only for a couple months. Never for—goddess. Five years.]

I'm sorry.

[It's the simplest thing to say and thus the weakest. There are other things he wants to say. Other sympathies he wants to sling but the words are too big, too clumsy. He fumbles over them while the air moves still with silence.] I didn't mean—[Another apology. It blurts out unbidden.]—to bring up such unpleasant memories. I had no idea. I—forgive me, Felix. While I chased off painful truths, I asked you for a bundle of them. I almost feel obligated now. Please, if there's anything you'd like to know...

[Ask. It still doesn't feel adequate but he's at a loss.]

[The sad fact of the matter is that while all of that was a painful fact piled upon another, it was but the ones closest to the surface as far as the mountain of truths and lies that made up his life. In a strange way he didn't even resent the experience as much as it seemed. Yes, he hated it, but Paradisa was simply only doing what it needed to survive]

Of course you had no idea. It sounds perfect on paper. It was perfect model of a gilded cage. It lived off our emotions. Every party, every arrival, every death, was just another way to get what it needed from us. And some were better subjects than most.

[Meaning himself, of course. It shouldn't be that strange of an idea to grasp, coming from a man who arrived in the fleet to the tune of a violent temper tantrum. He'd always felt things quite strongly, even if the effects of those never rose close enough to the surface to see.]

It would have been difficult to for me to pretend that none of that ever happened. [Not when he has so much else to lie about, but those are easier by merit of time and repetition.]

[He glances aside with a sigh, taking in the eager sadness that Mattias regards him with. It would be very easy to dig for something terrible, but these memories aren't worth that kind of retribution. Asking why he called himself a traitor, for example. He lacks the context for Mattias did, however, and has an equal chance to stumble into briers, but a less openly prodding question comes to find after a few prolonged beats]

Tell me about your family. You only mentioned your uncle in relation to them. Why?

[Asking why he was a traitor would almost be a point of pride. In a way it was an accomplishment. A badge of his success in reward for achieving his lifelong goal. He didn't mind the name, just the inherent consequences.

His family though, that makes him freeze. Makes his eyes hard and his lips thin. He keeps it momentary, forcing a smile that doesn't reflect in his eyes.]

Ah, well. There's my cousins, too, I suppose. I simply didn't think you'd have any interest in hearing of them. My aunt as well, though she doesn't like me much. [He's inferior in her eyes. An insufficient replacement for his mother.] My cousins, though. You could say they were my only friends growing up. Friends and siblings. Ana and Elijah are their names. Elijah was a bit more distant. Older, so he saw our interactions more as babysitting. Ana, though. She's a spitfire. [He chuckles.] She and I—we'd practice courtly manners with each other. Curtsies and courtesies, you know. Actually—[He raises a finger.]—she was my dance partner. Though she's got two left feet.

[Another chuckle before he waves the thought away.] Anyway, while Ana and I were teenagers, Elijah was sent off to serve at the border. He was killed in a raid. Uncle Martell was a mess. His wife even more so. It led to their divorce and left me the sole carrier of the family name. Uncle was quick to appoint me his new son. Unofficially, of course.

[It sounds convincing. This time he doesn't falter. Keeps up the good cheer right on through, timing laughs and smiles in all the right places. Still, it feels odd. Recently, his heritage was the least important thing about him and back in Oramos... Well. Everyone had already known. To have to actively hide it felt strange.]

[Before he even speaks, Felix knows he's miscalculated, and mentally winces at the reaction. He doesn't buy for a second that this is all cheer and fond memories, outside of the complete lack of mention of his parents. He's seen too many of these lying masks. It's a courtly skill to be sure, to respond neutrally while shoving the core of the matter away where it can be safely forgotten.

He decides to let Mattias get away with the evasion. It saves them both in the long run, because what did he know about families, really? He never had anyone to look up to or live up to. No one to miss. Not in that same way. It was a bond he'd maybe never really understand.]

Hm. Politics...[he mumbles noncommittally, and returns his gaze to the town in the distance.]

Many of us have left a lot behind us.

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mingle a little Mor tonight

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