Starstruck mingle!

[pocketpal]

Who: Crew of the glorious ship Starstruck
Broadcast: If people want??
Action: On the Starstruck
When: Early April

[ Hopefully no first aid kits necessary this time. ]

Comments

[lord_wizard]

[Felix catches himself staring at that brief but enticing flash of skin and muscles that are far too defined than they have any right to be given that Mattias spends more time that even he does bent over books and papers. Speaking of which, he'd nearly been about to be angry about the state of the room when the shirt had come off and plowed that feeling right off it's track. Living in this small space wouldn't be quite so bad if the man wasn't parading about like a dessert he wasn't allowed to have - his own personal torment. It's half the reason he'd stayed on the planet.

He saves himself by taking the moment while Mattias organizes to turn away from the door and retrieve the plates of food he'd left in the kitchen, and the promised bottle of wine. His expression is back to neutral by the time he returns and sets all of it on the improvised table.]

Don't thank me until you try it. I make no promises about my skills.

[The plates are full of sausages (slightly overdone) and fake mashed potatoes cooked with real garlic (slighly underdone). He's honestly more hopeful about the wine]

And what is so important that you haven't eaten since we left?

[noctiphile]

Ah, you know the goddess I spoke of? I thought—perhaps the Atroma hadn’t taken her. Perhaps she’s out here somewhere, waiting to be refound.

[He finishes his minor bout of cleaning and settles into his own seat, spinning to face their ramshackle table.] A foolish hope, but still one to work for.

[At least it gives him something to do.

Clapping his hands, he smiles and plucks his utensils with exuberant cheer.] Anyway, let’s see what we have here! Oh, sausages? And… potatoes? [He lifts a fork of them to his mouth and grins.] Delicious! Well, to a point. But flaws are to be expected. They’re one of the delights of being human.

[Stabbing into a sausage, he brings it to his lips and blows, glancing at Felix in-between.] You’ve yet to tell me about your time away. What were you doing?

[lord_wizard]

[While Mattias tastes the fare, he tries to decide if the man is mocking him or not. Mattias is often so guileless that's easy to miss it does happen. Every day is a challenge and a mystery]

Gathering funds, mostly. I ended up taking Dorian up on his offer of free lodging while I scraped together coins, though I ended up spending most of it. I've come more or less full circle in that regard.

[He eyed the chaotic pile of notes with a critical but interested expression] Is there any way I can help with this project of yours?

[noctiphile]

Dorian? [It's a passing question. One he dismisses quickly in favor of glancing back at his notes, mouth half-full with sausage.]

Help? [He swallows, chuckling.] I'm flattered. But I'm afraid the main thing I need help with is-[he grunts, twisting back and pulling for an open book. He sets it down in Felix's lap with a broad grin.]-deciphering these languages. Tell me, Felix, are you gifted in tongues?

[lord_wizard]

[He waves a dismissive hand] A friend of a friend. From one of the other ships...

[Well, ok, he didn't really need to eat. Sure. He gives Mattias a blank stare for a moment, then glances down at the text]

Gifted might be a strong word, but I was well trained. [He'll enjoy that slightly bitter private joke as his fingers skim the words] At least in reading. I was always hopeless at actually speaking them. [Unlike his brother, who had picked up Kekropian as easily as breathing] The problem here might be that I don't quite recognize your writing. It looks a bit like Cymellunar and Kekropian in places, but entirely unfamiliar in others.

in which i totally bullshit language

[noctiphile]

Well, that is certainly a problem. [He reaches for the wine, then rethinks it, moving instead to take the book off Felix's lap. Through a masterful finagling of plate and paper, he sets his food back down on the makeshift table and replaces it with the book. Reaching behind him, he grabs a pen from his desk and starts writing.]

Perhaps we can trade. I'll start. This—[He motions to the half sausage still left on his fork.]—in my language, is liminikos. [He writes it down, the script flowing, unencumbered by punctuation. Spinning the book to Felix, he points to the word.] It's made up of three smaller letters. [He divides the word into sections, showing Felix the three letters he means, limi, ni, and kos.] Now this—[he points to the mashed potatoes] is ouilnum capannu. [He repeats the practice, dividing the words into letters. He goes through his entire meal like this, pointing out the different pieces and transcribing the words and letters, as if hoping a couple words would help Felix interpret the entire language.]