driftfleet | Calibration Post 1, "Daytime"

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Calibration Post 1, "Daytime"

[ Not long after the shuffle, there's a ripple of static over the network - loud, sudden, and seemingly with no origin. It's puzzling, but there's no indication that it's going to happen again...

Until a minute later. Another surge of static comes in over the speakers, and then a voice - one some may find familiar, though not necessarily welcome, after all of this time... It's Diamond. Long time no speak, hmm?

Clearly, not all is well. She sounds very far away, for one. For another, she sounds... skeptical, almost alarmed. There may actually be real concern in her voice. ]

Again? Twice in one c--

[ Her sentence is cut short with a strangled gasp, followed by a moment of silence. What follows may be the sound of metal dragged across metal, but it's hard to place. When she speaks again, it's uncharacteristically monotonous. ]

... Bring them in.

[ A blip of lost time passes right after those words, before every passenger mysteriously wakes alone in their own unfamiliar room. The style of decor resembles that of the Marsiva's Hospitality Deck, if any passengers should remember what that's like. It sounds and smells the same as the host ship as well, all clean and chrome, but this set of rooms has only been used once, and for the very same purpose that befalls the fleet contestants now.

As for their hosts, there is no immediate sign of them, though some may recall a series of hideous, half-electronic screams before their memories begin to blur upon arrival...

Welcome back to the Marsiva, dear passengers. It's time for round two of calibrations. ]

[ This mingle will cover all non-calibration room interactions. Please continue to come back to it for the duration of the plot! You are, of course, free to post any other mingles/posts/etc. that you'd like. ]

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[ Soujirou isn't wrong, of course. Age and guilt does things to minds, and immortal ones are no less susceptible to those ravages than mortal ones. More, maybe, because they can't forget, elven memory being evergreen. ]

Yes. [ He smiles sadly at him ]

Thank you for understanding, Soujirou. I'll be alright. I can wait until he's gone again.

[He wonders what it means that Okita can empathize with an old soul like Maglor. Although he likes to think that when he smiles, he can still keep the sorrow from his eyes. The weight Maglor carries with him might be too heavy for that though.

In time, would Okita look the same?]

Of course.

[He pauses.]

But if things become too heavy, you will seek help, won't you?

I...

[ He hesitates. It is reasonable to do so, argues Curufin's ghost. But to burden others with his pain is wrong, argues Caranthir's. He deserves to break, argues Celegorm's, but the memory of the Ambarussa lay insubstantial heads on his shoulders, and remind him that he worries people, when he hides. ]

I will try, Soujirou.

[He isn't sure if he completely believes Maglor will go for help. If it were him, he knows he wouldn't. He's still hiding the darkness in his chest and his real self from everyone here after all. But if nothing else, he can pretend to believe Maglor, and try to help him in a way he can't help himself.

Holding out one hand, he extends his pinky.]

Promise?

[ Maglor blinks at the finger and then laughs softly and fondly, old memories in his eyes ]

You have that tradition too? Alright Soujirou.

Pinky promise.

[ Maglor solemly offers his little finger to link with Soujirou's ]

[There we go. The lightening of the mood was instantaneously apparent and it makes Okita's smile a little more genuine.]

It's an old tradition in my country as well.

[He links their pinkies and gives it a little squeeze before letting go.]

What do they do in your land if you break a solemn vow like this? In ours, there's a saying:

"If I don't keep my promise, I will drink a thousand needles."

We used to say 'or Morgoth will find you'.

[ he grimaces ]

It was perhaps too grim for young ones, but it was also the reality we all lived with.

[Morgoth had to be like some sort of boogeyman then, because it certainly sounds ominous.]

Well, drinking a thousand needles isn't exactly lighthearted either. [And yet he still laughs at it.]

The punishment has to fit the crime after all.

So, you can't break your promise to me, Maglor-san. [His expression slips a little, showing his genuine concern for the older elf.]

If the burden becomes too great, you must seek help from someone.

[ Soujirou is closer than he knows! ]

True, and my fosterlings were well aware, even at that age, of how truly terrible the world could be.

[ He smiles at him, and it is firmer, far more determined ]

I promise I will. One thing that cannot be said of my family, that we were ever faithless on our promises!

[For better or for worse, most people in his world knew that same thing. He learned it the moment his mother died, followed shortly after by his father due to things his own hands set in motion.

Okita's smile hollows out at the corners for the barest of seconds as the memory comes unbidden, but he's able to push past it quick enough. The years of training himself to smile especially when sad came in handy.]

Good. Then perhaps I will see you soon? I should get back to my room.

[aka not here??? Please believe his lie.]

[ Maglor saw that ]

We will. But Soujirou... promise me you will do the same?

[He hesitates because he hates lying when it comes to promises. He promised Hijikata he'd never cry again. He was promised that he would be kept at his side as long as he was the strongest in Japan. He promised Tetsu he'd help him get his revenge.

So really when it comes to breaking them, he's old hat by now even if he hates doing it.]

Of course. I never like to let things fester for too long.

But you do let them lie for a while. [ Maglor looks at him, and for a moment his eyes are very clear ]

Don't hurt yourself for my sake - for any of our sakes. Please, Soujirou.

[His words are like a lance straight through him. He knows he's being seen right now. That is the peril of talking to people who share too many of his own traits.

But still he smiles faintly and shakes his head. He's spent his entire life pretending to be something he's not in one way or another, so what is the harm in doing it a little longer? Thankfully, he has a lot of practice in laughing when he feels no mirth, so he does so now - sounding like he heard a particularly cute joke as he snickers.]

You think too highly of me, Maglor-san. I'm hardly as altruistic as all that.

[Then he spins around once, tucking his hands behind his back as he starts to walk backwards away from the elf.]

If you keep worrying about all of us so much, you're going to start showing your age and get wrinkles. [He reaches up to point right between his own forehead, giving Maglor a wink.] I think I already see some right here.

[ Maglor laughs too, but there is something very sadly knowing in his eyes]

Perhaps. And I am old enough to not be vain about a few wrinkles, I should think!

You're never too old to care about your looks.

[He says with a smile and a twirl of his hair over his shoulder. It's something Hijikata would have scowled at him for, knowing it was a jab at him. But he's not here now, so there is no one here to scowl, only smile or laugh or dismiss him.]

[ Maglor shakes his head at him, gently amused ]

I don't know - several thousand years of wandering tends to rid one of caring much for looks I think!

It's never too late to start then.

You have such pretty hair, it'd be a shame if your face turned to worry lines in contrast.

[ Maglor blinks, fidgeting, shyly hiding the grey strands at his temple ]

That is kind of you to say, although I hardly think it is that special!

[Oho! Weakness found perhaps? He smiles, a little wickedly.]

Oh, but it is! Not everyone can have such nice hair - long and dark like that. People used to write poems about such hair in my country. So you shouldn't let yourself worry so much or you'll only have poems about your hair and not your pretty face to match.

[ Weakness definitely found. Maglor's ears flush, just a little, the tips going red, and he makes a more concerted effort to hide the grey ]

It... it really isn't. Most of my family have hair like mine. Or did. Before.

[Welp, it was nice knowing you, Maglor's dignity.]

Then your family is very lucky to share such a pretty trait of yours.

[Because as long as he digs at Maglor, the less the man can worry about him.]

But since I only really know you very well, then I'll have to assume they're all as handsome. It's unfair~ Tall and nice features?

[ ALAS ]

Ah well... [ SEARCHING FOR DIVERSION ]

Mother did name my brother Maitimo. Which can be rendered more or less as "Well-formed"...

[ Yes his mother did basically name her firstborn "Hot stuff" ]

[That doesn't do much to distract him, but heck, if all the elves are hot, then he's down with that.]

What does your name mean? [a beat] "The blushing one?"

No! [ Maglor's blush, Soujirou will find, travels down from his ears to his cheeks ]

I'm... Makalaure is "Cleaving gold". Or "Forging gold", depends on your translation.

[ Mumbled ]

Technically, that would be our fourth brother, Carnistir.

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