Video

[twilightminstrel]

Who: Daeron
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Heron
When: Now!

[One of the newest passengers of the fleet jerks out of the bed he'd woken on and slams back against the cold steel. On second glance, ignoring the quiet gasps for breath, one can see delicately pointed ears peeking through silver hair, along with wide grey eyes before the elf- yes, another one- holds his breath, then slowly exhales a shaky breath as he forces some meager semblance of calm. He frowns, gaze falling to the red light blinking at him, and places a hand over the screen, effectively ending the transmission.

Not that it lasts long, as just as Daeron regains some sense of self and begins to absorb some of the new knowledge running through his head, he's transferred to another ship! He shakes his head slightly, hands clenching as he finds himself staring at a room- the bridge- with another screen watching him. Judging him. Pain and grief touch his gaze before flowing away like water.

He steels his nerve after casting a glance over his shoulder towards the stars, and stares back at the screen with feigned calm, brittle enough that even a breath could shatter it.]

A minstrel among the stars has a certain ring to it. Is it a reward or a punishment, to be separated from worlds of green and living water and air?

Comments

action

[nonono7]

Your world had living water? [ Guess who isn't good at metaphors. Unless that wasn't one who knows.

The point is, Daeron is hardly alone aboard his new ship, and this tall girl with pink hair is ALL UP in his personal space. ]

[twilightminstrel]

[He flinches, stepping stumbling back as his calm shatters.]

...There is life within the sea, the rivers, and the lakes. Is it not so where you are from?

[nonono7]

[ She ponders that a moment, two moments, and then she's being loud and unreasonable again. ] Yeah, that makes sense.

I'm Nono by the way! Who are you? You're new here???

[twilightminstrel]

[Loud is...fine. Nothing to worry about. He's just been isolated for a few thousand years while.] I suppose not all look beneath the surface...

I am Daeron. [No point in using another name, is there? He'd heard a familiar voice.] I...arrived today. Yes.

[nonono7]

Dae-ron... Daeron... [ She says it a few times, getting the name some practice on her tongue, before smiling. ] All right, got it!

Well Daeron, I just arrived about a month ago, but I guess I'm your senior. [ You know, in being on a spaceship. This spaceship. It's exciting! She's always been the newbie. ] So feel free to ask me anything!

voice

[bythewaves]

[ A catch of breath - Maglor has not hear that voice since... how long has it been?

The Mereth Aderthad whispers memory. When you and he watched each other from the edges of your encampments, when you found someone who understood

For the sake of lost Doriath, he resorts only to voice - that way, Daeron does not have to look at him and may ignore him, if he chose ]

Both. Neither. I suppose it would depend on... what you thought of some of those who are also on this fleet.

[ Like him and his family ]

[twilightminstrel]

[The room shakes around him- or is that just him? As he hears that voice. Breath seems stolen from his lungs and he seems sightless for a moment. Just a moment. He doesn't answer for a long while. Perhaps an hour. Perhaps half. He can't tell, only that it's only once he's tucked himself away into a room the device in his head tells him is his.

He's had time, barely, that his voice is carefully modulated against the chaos of emotion and thought.]

That depends on who else is here.

[bythewaves]

[ In truth, Maglor was not expecting him to answer at all, so the response surprises him.

But he owes Daeron any answer the other wishes from him, really, so... ]

Myself. My elder brother Maedhros. My cousin, Finde... Fingon. [ He corrects at the last minute ]

[twilightminstrel]

[At least he doesn't hiss, hearing Maglor's eldest brother's here?]

So the dead walk among the living once more.

[Daeron falls silent a moment, wary. And tries not to sound too curious or interested when he does ask another question.]

Where?

voice;

[monolike]

I don't see how it'd be a reward...unless you're not the outdoors type, I suppose.

[twilightminstrel]

That is what I lean towards, though I prefer walking under trees.

[monolike]

Have you been to the Iskaulit? There's a garden there, and also the park area. It's not quite the same as the real thing but it might be a little comforting.

[twilightminstrel]

I have heard there is such, and intend to pay that...ship a visit. I arrived just this morning, if I understand the passage of time here correctly.

video.

[hylights]

[Zelda hasn't had much time to observe broadcasts of new arrivals - she's too busy by far in exploring the asteroids, the ship workings, everything she can get her hands on. But she mustn't neglect the connections to her fellow passengers. It's with a bit of sympathy that she responds.]

I would think it a punishment, if our captors had put that kind of thought into it.

[twilightminstrel]

[He knows what it is to have a new place to explore and be distracted. His lips twitch at the soft sympathy in an unknown voice, and he responds almost curious.]

You think they do not hold such a thought?

[hylights]

I don't believe our thoughts and feelings had any bearing on their actions. Only their own. We are meant to be their entertainment, after all.

[twilightminstrel]

[He hums softly, thoughtful. Back to being a source of entertainment.] That, at the least, is a role I am accustomed to.

[ video ]

[tempredmental]

I guess that would depend on how you feel about space vs planets.

Some people like it out here.

[twilightminstrel]

Perspective, yes. This is my first time in 'space', so perhaps I should not yet decide... My kin are more attracted to all that grow.

[tempredmental]

So you're a nature guy.

[An overly simplified way of putting it, but Keith wasn't one for long, flowery speech. He was pretty simple and tended not to say much unless he really had something to contribute.]

Space definitely isn't for everyone. A friend of mine used to get sick all the time.

[twilightminstrel]

[The elf's lips twitch in almost mirth and he hums softly.] I could share the songs of nature with you, if you wished. Or of the stars, though not the ones we pass by, for they are not known to me. [Which, by the way, is wrong in his mind.]

Used to?

(Voice)

[castintoflames]

(Every atom in his body is screaming at him to ignore this arrival; to turn and go the other way. This Bard is connected to King Thingol and Queen Melian. He is connected to Princess Lúthien. The last thing Daeron needs is a Fëanorian presence.

Yet as he watches him, he sees...

Much of himself. Much of Maglor and Fingon and Finwë.

As he speaks, he half hopes the Bard will not recognize his voice.)

We are not always separated from them.

[twilightminstrel]

[The silence stretches even longer than the one before he'd spoken to Maglor. Any bard, any elvish bard, would remember a voice that had once been familiar. Perhaps not as familiar as he'd been with Feanor's secondborn, but he'd known them once.]

We travel in a line, by my understanding. One world is not the same as another. Do you still claim we are not separated from what was once known? Even your father would be hard pressed to make such a claim, or I am mistaken.

[castintoflames]

(It is futile to hide his identity, but if Daeron does not wish to acknowledge him, that is certainly the Bard's right. Maedhros has been blessed with a deep, commanding voice even when he is trying to speak softly; not unlike Fëanor's.)

I never made such a claim. But you will see green and water too. Foreign they may be, but they are of some comfort.

(His father. He sighs.)

Are you in one piece? Have you any need for medical assistance?

[twilightminstrel]

No?

[Maedhros has a handsome voice. One that is difficult not to listen to, though Daeron'd had preferred Maglor's.]

Yes. Your brother spoke of a garden, on the Iskaulit. It stands, too, to reason there is life on other planets. [He might even visit some.

He startles, staring unseen at the cold screen.]

Why do you, who gave yourself to flame, care if one such as I might be wounded?