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

[castintoflames]

(Ashes. Maedhros can barely bring himself to look at flame - unless he has a good use for it (like branding bodies for example) - and ashes too turn his stomach. Few know what it is like to burn alive.)

Then I will not ask your permission to send you a care package.

[twilightminstrel]

[He flinches and attempts a level stare.]

Your efforts are best used on others.

[castintoflames]

They will be used on others; that isn't your concern. (He adjusts his hold on the transmission device, shifting it to his mechanical hand.) Stay out of your ship's cargo bay.

[twilightminstrel]

Is that a threat, Feanorian? [He doesn't quite know what to do about this promise of a 'care package'.]

[castintoflames]

I am beyond threats, Bard. If I wished to kill you, I would. (He gathers items that can be of use as he talks. A blanket, some food, a book and pen to chronicle thoughts.)

[twilightminstrel]

[It's true enough, and they both know it. Daeron is far from a warrior, though he's able enough with bow and dagger.]

So be it. [He ends the connection then, intent on staying in his room for as long as he can stand it.]

[castintoflames]

(The package will be brought to the Heron and left outside of Daeron's door once he locates it. There is a brief knock and then he is gone like a shadow.)

[twilightminstrel]

[The fact that he is so easily found now makes him tremble, staring at the door. He knows that Maedhros has found him, and it's only when he senses he's alone again that he ventures to open the door, to see what the other elf has left for him.

...A blanket. Food. And a book, for noting down his thoughts, as the blank pages tell him. There could be more, but what he's found so far tumble to the cold hard floor, and he falls down after them. The ship could explode then and he wouldn't notice.]