driftfleet | But too much is falling in mine

Entry tags:

But too much is falling in mine

Who: Mantis and You
Broadcast: Yes

Action: Space Station / Bishop
When: Today

Sapce Station - Action

He's wandering around looking like a specter of days long past with a bag on his back filled with liquid forget-me-nots fit for anyone willing to try hard enough. Mantis isn't one to wallow very often, but some things are just too much all at once. His tall figure cuts through crowds quietly as he stretches his legs, pausing here and there to have a seat and sigh heavily to himself. Once in a while he starts to hum a little snippet of song, a mournful little melody that resounds through the confines of the mask.

Eventually, he makes his way to head back to his own ship, but he'll pause here and there just to wander among the many distractions available to him.

Bishop (Dining Area) - Broadcast

There are five candles set up. They're the short votive sort made of a milky white wax and he's arranged them in a kind of loose circle on a simple plate. There's a cup in the center of the circle, and he's pouring out a drink into it from what he was promised would be a slightly higher shelf brand of alcohol. You have to do some things right, or else not bother.

With the cup nearly full, he caps the bottle loosely and pinches the wicks of each candle between his fingertips. There's no immediate source of the fire, but he manages to light them all very carefully before sitting back in his chair. It's he spreads his arms out, turning his head to look at the other empty seats at the table before him.

The bottle doesn't stay closed for long and he takes it up to have a long sip at the drink before closing it properly. At last, he looks directly at the feed.

"I'm a monster by many measures, not heartless. The best way to fight the feelings of misery is in the company of others or a bottle of something strong."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Anders hasn't been awake long, maybe a few hours, but he can't keep lying in bed, no matter what Hawke says. He shuffles about the ship instead, at least until he comes across set-up in the dining area.

He pauses in the doorway, looking like something chewed him up and spat him back out with his hair a sleep-tangled mess and dark circles practically tattooed under his eyes, but he's alive. Despite his best efforts, that was more than many could say right about now.

"What are you doing?" His voice is still scratchy from a couple days of disuse, but his curiosity is plain in his tone. He can guess, but he'd rather be taught.

"Mixing together old traditions where I come from. Candles and libations are possibly the oldest gifts one can give to honor the dead and the missing."

Mantis sighs and rubs the back of his neck with both hands. Sleep didn't come to him easily at the best of times, and he can guess what Anders had been up to with a voice that half-dead.

"Want to come join me and drink to the fallen? No matter where you go, there is always fermented plants to make life a little more bearable."

[A smirk cracks out across his face.]

That is certainly true.

If the invitation is there, I'd be happy to.

[He came into the room properly and sat with Mantis, though he didn't reach for the drink immediately.]

We honor the dead with candles and drinks as well, it seems to be one of those things that is shared across cultures. I wonder how that is.

Who all was lost?

The invitation is always there. My liver would never permit me to drink this all alone.

[Mantis sends a cup towards Anders, letting it float just above the table.]

Light represents life and alcohol cleanses both wounds and minds. It's not really a surprise that people get drunk to forget their sorrows.

We...lost our Captain, Looma. I also figured a little politeness for the planet and those who could not make it off was called for.

[Anders accepts the cup with a nod of gratitude. Now would be a good time to have his lover's ability to chill things, sadly ice elemental was not his area of expertise. He did suppose he had something else he could offer to the mix, though.

He took a sip to test the flavor first.]

That does make sense.

[His eyes darted down to the table's surface and then back up.]

I had heard about the Captain. [He sighs.] You can never save everyone, no matter how much of yourself you pour into the goal. It's just not possible.

[He wrapped his palm around the base of the cup and let a burst of electricity magic dance around and through the cup's contents before the purple-blue energy subsided. A slight jolt to the drink would give it a nice bite. Something a little fancier for their recently departed.]

[Mantis kind of shunned the whole "love" thing as a matter of principle. A lot of things lost their appeal once he thoroughly gave up on humanity.]

Looma did what she did with the best of intentions, which is the most anyone can offer when doing something both helpful and ultimately foolish. I'll give her credit though: she left with more grace in one finger than some have over the course of a lifetime.

[He jolted back in his seat at the sudden burst of electricity, a hand going up to cover his chest in a useless gesture of self preservation. That was different. It took a few seconds for him to relax, but he eventually lifted his mask just enough out of the way to drain his glass.]

Last time I came close to anything like that, I was reading about an old colonel who died trying to prove himself against a lone enemy soldier.

[Anders gave a slightly apologetic smile in response to Mantis' surprise but doesn't comment further on the trick.

A sip from the cup and the drink now leaves a tingle all over his mouth and down his throat as he drank, though it was still a little warm from the jolt. Had to be careful with electricity and liquor, you could just as easily set the whole thing ablaze.]

What she did was brave, I just hope she doesn't regret it when she wakes up.

[Assuming Atroma wasn't the type to not revive someone because they were done with them. He hadn't heard of it happening, at least.

But death was damaging and painful and it should be permanent, or else the person involved would surely suffer so much more for walking away from it. He hoped she'd be alright, in the end.]

[The shock wears off quickly for things like that. Once you become one of those odd things that doesn't make sense, other surprises lack a lot of their punch.]

"When"? [He narrows his eyes and sits up, leaning forward.] They figured out a way to bring back people from the dead?

[Mantis himself is very much used to the dead staying that way. He's caused enough of it to get a good idea of how it works.]

[Anders nods, but there's nothing in him that says he's joking or even overly placid about the whole thing. He still hadn't parsed out what he thought of it. It seemed an impossible miracle and yet, he couldn't stand by and swear it was the good sort. The dead should remain dead, anything else was just...wrong.]

The Fleet doesn't like losing its entertainment. Somehow, they bring the dead back to life and return them to the fleet whole again. Supposedly.

[He didn't doubt that people came back, he trusted his source for this, just that they could possibly come back from that 'alright.']

[Mantis sits back, topping off his glass.]

The dead come back for jobs left undone. Anything else is now permitting people to rest. Looma will be in a bad state when she comes back, assuming this will come to pass.

[He's sipping slowly from his glass this time. It's a distinctly uncomfortable subject to discuss.]

[Anders drained his cup and left it empty in front of him. He hadn't yet decided how drunk he might want to be.]

I've not seen it yet myself, but I can only assume it's nothing short of horrible. Should you see her before me and believe she would benefit from healing, my abilities are available. I can put minds to ease, but if there's something deeper that's wrong, no magic will be able to heal it.

[Mantis is edging towards mildly drunk, but complete obliteration is not without it's perks.]

A little polite encouragement goes a long way. She won't appreciate it at first, but once she's rested, professionalism tends to win out with her type. They appreciate soldiers who look out for their superior officers.

[There's not a lot to discern from the audio, but Matt can stretch his senses across the ship pretty easily anyway. The clink of glass, the wet slosh of liquid, the sharp sudden heat of lighting candles. A memorial service.

Not hard to guess who it might be for.]

Does indulging in both help alleviate that misery any faster?

[He'd be right about one of the intended recipients, but Mantis is including a fair number of people not even close to the fleet of ships right now in his remembrance.

He lets out a breathy and mirthless laugh.]

Drinks always taste better when someone else helps you finish the bottle.

Far be it from me to deny someone help. [please, he needs to drink right now] You're in the dining area?

I am and you are welcome to help me empty a bottle or two. [A pause.] You're on the ship? I thought I had met everyone already. Your voice is new.

Matches the owner. [Slips his glasses on but doesn't bother with his cane for the short walk over, keeping his hand along the wall until he reaches the dining area, pausing at the door.]

Matthew Murdock. Only been here a couple weeks.

[Mantis sits up in the chair and makes a noise of understanding once he sees Murdock. Dark feed in favor of audio. Of course.]

There you are. I met a man who's physical condition became like yours a long time ago. Unlike him, you have the confidence of someone who has lived for years like that.

[He taps the table with his palm. There's a bit of shuffling around as he gets up to get a couple of glasses.]

Come. We can have a drink in the hope of your continued good health and then get back to everyone else.

Edited 2017-09-30 09:10 (UTC)

Let's skip my health and save the drinking for the people who need it. [Feels around for the table and chair, sitting down across from the guy and accepting the glass.]

[Mantis fills it quickly, then settles back in his seat to fill his own glass.]

My name is Psycho Mantis, but most settle on the second half. [He raises his glass.] To the stubbornness of all who fight through tragedy.

[Your name is Psycho Mantis, my dude? Are you a vigilante

or like

a pro wrestler] I'll drink to that. [Matt lifts his glass as well, taking a decent swig.] ...I heard some of the uh, the natives conducting memorial services on the station. Somber stuff.

[Nothing as dramatic as those two, but vigilante comes closest to the essence of his last job. He takes a long sip out of his glass.]

It's strange to me. I've never seen a planet mourned before. People, of course, but there's something profound in a planet being honored like that.

Sometimes a place means just as much to someone as the people who live in it. [He's definitely missing his shitty little neighborhood right about now.] You know I heard that a lot of people wanted to stay behind.

Edited 2017-10-02 00:55 (UTC)

Nostalgia like that never meant much to me. Not with places. Even seeing what happened to their planet, I can't say I would miss Earth all that much if it were decimated. [The glass clinks on the table and he makes a noise of agreement.] People hate to leave behond the place where they built a life. You see it in tornados, hurricanes, even fires. It's probably very true.

[Gonna assume you mean some other Earth there buddy since Matt's pretty possessive of his own, thank ya] I'm sure you've got your own attachments. People? Material items?

[Given the sheer volume of people going around, it just might be a different Earth. Mantis makes a noise of affirmation after draining more of his glass.]

People. All of...four. Five if one is generous about how they choose to trust people. [He lets out a breathy laugh.] My last coworkers and a mangy cat who shows up just to cause trouble for everyone else.

They do say that home is where the heart is. [Matt would probably still be chained to Hell's Kitchen with no Foggy and no Karen, but it would be a much emptier thing, he thinks.] What kind of work gets you a name like 'Psycho Mantis,' though?

[And his 'home' could move around with their tasks at any moment. It was a good time while it lasted.] Military. I was the psychological warfare specialist. We also had a disguise master, two gunmen, a sniper, and our leader. Each of them with their own ridiculous name to call themselves.

'Ridiculous' makes it sound like you didn't choose it for yourself. [Matt can relate, though he doesn't think 'Daredevil' is as silly as Foggy does.]

It was our boss' idea. He hates being called his legal name as much as I do and we were all satisfied in the end, regardless of how odd the name. Imagine working with people called Revolver Ocelot and Sniper Wolf.

I can't, actually, but I guess you wouldn't have to worry about getting two Johns in your crew that way. [Efficient.]

[He laughs low in his throat and pours himself another glass.] Never did have to worry about that. I suppose we all found it gave us more...freedom. You don't have to be the person you were when your codename is all people call you.

[...huh. Matt cocks his head a little, fingers stilling on his glass before picking it up for another drink.] So it leaves you free to do things you otherwise wouldn't? ...morals notwithstanding?

Our morals were all a little skewed. Liquid Snake, our boss... He wanted to try and take the world over bit by bit. Madness, but the violence he was willing to cause to bring it about was very appealing.

[AN EVEN BIGGER 'HUH...'] So that was what you found attractive? The violence part? [Dutifully ignoring the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Foggy calling him a raging hypocrite]

We can't all be nice people. I paid for it as much as the rest of them did. [He sighs heavily.] We had the plan set into motion before I came here. It started going wrong almost immediately, but our boss wanted to keep with his schedule.

Poor leadership does seem to be the most common cause of collapse for organized crime. [Gonna finish this drink on case he needs to make a speedy getaway.]

He gets it from his father. Poor organization is the death of men in that tangled mess of genetics he calls "family".

Shame. [Not much of one.

Matt politely pushes his chair back.] I won't take up any more of your time or your liquor, but I appreciate the company.

Edited 2017-10-11 05:59 (UTC)

Come back any time you want. I might build up a small stash for various emergencies that might come our way. We seem to collect them in this fleet.

I hope not. [Matt stands and feels for the pathway to the door, pausing there.] Sorry for your losses, again. Look after yourself, Mantis.

[He laughs, if a bit mirthlessly.] We all have our struggles. Stay safe.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

But too much is falling in mine

Bishop

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

broadcast - audio

no subject

no subject

no subject

voice -> action

action

action

action

action

action

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject