driftfleet | [ can't do that while stunned. ]

Who: Belthazar & you!
Broadcast: Open to the fleet.
Action: On the Marsiva.
When: A reasonable hour on 3/25

[action;]

[Anyone on the Marsiva can find a short fussy elf if they'd like. He spends most of his time in the kitchen trying to figure out what weird-ass ingredients he's supposed to cook with, but he can also be found just... staring outside the window.]

[video;]

[This is not Belthazar's first rodeo. He's not going to sit here and play with the console for your entertainment. He figures it out in about two seconds, being familiar with comm devices already, and he is furious. The look he gives and his tone are ice cold. That combined with the glowing green eyes is a pretty freaky effect, but he looks and sounds fairly young.]

Is this some kind of game, Initiative? I am DONE. Do you understand? This is unacceptable. I did not ask to be removed from my property, and my books-- [oh, he is so angry about his books]-- and I have studies I must attend to. My arcane research is infinitely more important than your misguided sloppy war or your failed attempts at entertainment, which I assume this is supposed to be.

[He leans back, looking about as severe as a fifteen year old can look.]

I'm waiting.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Belthazar flinches like he's been slapped. He's heard of this happening on Exsilium, but all the swearing he did that he'd remember, that they would find each other and he'd be part of his real family-- it all turns to dust in his hands. Belthazar has never been very good at hope.]

Magister Adrasteius Bloodspeaker, [he recites with reverence despite his voice shaking.] I thought you would... remember. I apologize for inconveniencing you. I-if you no longer wish me to be your apprentice, then that is the end of our arrangement.

[Adrasteius doesn't remember his time in Exsilium, but his soft jelly of a heart is in no way immune to a child's trembling voice.]

Wait, wait. Just wait a second. Someone else here knew me from some time before--Kirian? Did you meet him as well?

[He plays with the edge of his hood like he wants to throw it over himself and hide.]

Yes. We-- we all lived in the same apartment.

Lord Dawningsun is here too?

[Adrasteius has three kids back home, and he can't help but think of them as he speaks to Belthazar. None of them are the boy's age quite yet -- Alrune is the oldest, and she's just about nine -- but he can see their future in this boy.

The fresh memory of their faces mixes with the obvious pain in Belthazar's voice, and Adrasteius's heart aches.]

Yes--ah--we did, huh. I hope I wasn't too hard on you.

[This is a really terrible conversation to have. In no way was Belth ever ready for it.] N-- no, you were very kind. [He's trying so hard but his eyes are welling up with tears and he can't make them stop.

He opts to pull the hood over his head anyway, and tug it down so that only his mouth is visible.]

[This has gone from confusing to bad to completely terrible. Adra wishes he could reach through this screen, wishes he was back on the Hospitality Deck.]

Hey, don't cry.

[A pause, and then goes on.]

Well--no. Cry if you want to. Better out than in. But, listen ... I don't remember my time in this other world. I'm still the same person, though. For example, I already know I want to know you.

[Belthazar wishes he could stop crying. He never wanted this. Someone's probably laughing at him right now. Truth be told, he doesn't cry often for a kid who has gone through some shit.

He bites his bottom lip.]

Y-you must think I am weak or... stupid. An apprentice does not cry. An apprentice does not cry!

I don't know what kind of idiot told you that.

[He presses his palm against the screen.]

Certainly not me, I hope.

[He sniffles and rubs at his nose. Maybe if he tries hard enough the tears will stop.]

No...

[Ugh, he hates crying. UGH UGH UGH. Adra doesn't remember and that hurts, and his kindness, his eagerness to fix it hurts even more.]

Silvermoon is... full of those types. Magisters who look down on others because of their birth. [He shakes his head.] I'm-- I am younger than they are, and common-born, but I can-- throw spells better than they.

[Of course it comes down to proving himself. Of course.]

[Adrasteius makes a dismissive gesture. He pays attention to what Bel's said, choosing to just let the boy cry if he needs to.]

Most of the magisters are half-asleep, half-drunk, or too fiercely inbred to get anything done. Sometimes all at once. I wouldn't put any stock in any of their opinions.

[Never mind that Adrasteius is also a magister. Minor detail.]

[He wipes furiously at his eyes. He hates staining the robes Kirian made him with tears, but it's not like he planned for this.]

Except they seem to run the city more than the Regent Lord does. [He sniffs in a way that sounds angry, if such a thing is possible.] Someone has to change it.

[Adrasteius wishes he could grab Belthazar into a hug or get him some water or a pastry or something, but he can't. He sighs.]

Yes; our city is a rotting corpse wearing a diamond necklace. But change will come. You and others your age -- you'll make sure of it.

I--

[He trails off, wanting to say more, not sure how to say it. This man doesn't remember him but Belth spent many long nights nestled in his robes, breathing in his mana to live, learning what it is to be... 'human'. Not literally human, but something more than the hateful shell he'd become.]

What about you? You are... were... a magister. Won't you stand with us?

I've been standing against the political climate before any of the clouds even fucking rolled in.

But I won't live forever.

[He's already gone past his natural lifespan, to be honest.]

[djsakldsakldaf-- that's really upsetting. Belth physically recoils, and his next words are not openly pleading but they're the sort of desperation Adra should come to expect.]

D-don't talk about dying!

[... He just yelled. At Adra. He's mad but he's really mostly scared, and his words come out almost too fast for him to properly say them.] There are people who depend on you, people who look to you to guide them-- people who need you because our people are dying now just as much as they did years ago. I promised to find you even if neither of us remembered and if that means I have to drag you out of your grave then fine!

[Adra winces. His ears droop a little, because he certainly hadn't meant to inspire that kind of reaction. Hell, most people can't wait for him to die.]

All right -- all right -- it's not happening tomorrow. I mean, probably. I don't know what kind of people are in this goddamn place yet. But I'm not planning on it.

[Elfdad he loves you please don't talk about dying. Adra's reaction is thankfully honest enough to quell Belth's frustration, at least for the moment, and he huddles down again. His voice is soft.]

... Okay.

[That's... something. He looks down at his lap.]

I apologize for my outburst.

[ can't do that while stunned. ]

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