driftfleet | A little vision of the start and the end

Who: Mantis and thine self

Broadcast: Video

Action: Bishop

When: Morning

[Exercise is a precious thing. It's the simple repetitive motions that make it possible to sculpt and tone just about anything. Mantis was never one to fuss around with heavy weights, though. The feed shows him sitting on the dining room table. His legs are stretched out before him and he's leaning forward at a fairly low angle, with his fingertips lightly touching the table's surface. Several slow and deep breaths issue through the filter of his mask and he sits up very slowly, shifting to sitting with his legs crossed. Little groans and grunts accompany him as he moves, and he rolls his shoulders a little as he sits up straight.]

So... I'm alive. [He's rested for what felt like days, but the exhaustion is all over his voice when he speaks.] I feel incredibly calm, considering what we went through on that planet. It felt familiar to fight for my continued existence. Not really pleasant, but it left me feeling alive in a way that I think I had missed.

[His arms start moving, trailing up over his head and then making their way back to his waist in careful movements.]

Obviously, we have more than a few wounds to lick and ships to fix, but at least we all get to have an interesting story to tell the next time we meet civilized people.

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[It's a younger voice that offers a response--younger, lower, tired, and bitter. Way too bitter for being so young. He says,] At this point, I'm kind of sick of having "interesting" stories to tell. I'd be just fine having nothing to talk about.

[Youth tainted with a bone-deep wariness about life. That takes him back quite a ways.] Strange as it sounds, I needed this reprieve from the peace. [A pause.] Everyone desires peace and everyone defines it a little differently.

Edited 2017-11-21 01:52 (UTC)

A... reprieve from the peace? You needed that? [Skeptical. Definitely skeptical.]

I am well aware of how insane that sounds. [He's also well used to people simply calling him a madman.] Too much peace can make one feel like they don't really exist. Days bleed into each other until something comes along to remind you that your heart still beats. Now I have that assurance.

[That sounds uncomfortably familiar... except, if he had to choose between nonexistence and pain, the choice isn't all that obvious to him. Damn it.]

I'm not saying it's insane, I'm just saying... it's not what I expected to hear.

Did you get injured at all? In all the crap that happened. [Then he exhales audibly, almost a sigh.] I've been stockpiling medical supplies in case people need them, [he explains.]

There's a phrase where I come from: "It takes all types."

[He makes a thoughtful hum and grunts a little while flexing his arms.]

Consistently, but it's mostly bruises and sore muscles. I never get close enough to my opponents to let them cut into flesh. [A pause.] That said, painkillers never go amiss. How much can you spare?

All types, huh... [To meet someone who delights in combat--even for a valid reason--well, it's making Shinji a little nervous. Everything makes him a little nervous, though. He takes a deep breath and tells himself it's all right.]

I do have plenty of painkillers. Mostly generic ones, from the ship's dispensary, but also... I picked up a whole crate of them a few worlds back. So, then... So, however many you need, I should be able to handle that.

[Finally. Asuka hates to admit it, even to herself, but it's about time someone felt about the same way as her over the ordeal. Tired, worn-out, but not defeated.]

Did you get hurt?

[Mantis is a violent person at the best of times, but he's also civilized in his own way, especially after spending a good month venting his frustrations.]

Diversity keeps a people stable, even the unstable ones. [He laughs quietly at his joke.] One hundred of the pill kind, if you can. It'll be enough for now and any headache later.

Amazingly, less than life back home had done to me. Sore all over, but that is easy to work through.

I'm surprised no one really got much worse.

We didn't lose anyone to that planet? I'm actually impressed. We're luckier than I had thought.

Not that I know of.

[Admittedly, she hasn't been paying the best of attention.]

Everyone gets over it quick. How long have you been here?

Oh, if you're one for telling stories. [The mild overlay, even despite his heartened tone, may give one the impression that Kaworu isn't much for telling stories, himself. He's encouraging regardless:] Those uncivilized might not hate to listen, either.

[Shinji doesn't want to be a violent person, not by nature, not by anything, but violence seems to just follow him wherever he goes. Variety is the spice of life, or something like that, and he's honestly sick of it. Still, he won't begrudge a difference of opinion...] Well, like you said, it's at least something to talk about, I guess...

[There's a floor-scraping shuffle of a cardboard box in the background.]

Yeah, you can have that many pills. Do you want to, uhm... probably easier for us to meet up on the Iskaulit. I'm heading over there anyway to do some gardening. [That's the closest thing he has to actual therapy.]

[He makes a surprised noise, and his voice grows louder as he moves closer to his communicator.]

Gardening? On one of these ships? That kind of hobby takes up a lot of space once you get use to it. [Fabric shuffles as he gets up.] Iskaulit it is. You won't be able to miss me. I wear a gas mask.

I think...three months? Once you get used to the change of pace, it fees like a lifetime. It took a while for the initial shock to wear off.

Stories are how people build and tear down reputations. If you can't defend yourself, you may as well dig your own grave. [A touch of smugness seeps into his voice.] I gave those bastards a hell of a time for what they did. Once they lose the element of surprise, they're as weak as anyone.

Actually, yeah. There's a whole greenhouse located on the Iskaulit, and it has all sorts of plants in it... [... wait, what?] Did you say you wear a gas mask? [That seems a little superfluous when the air they breathe is so filtered and sterile, but it might be a lifestyle choice, or something like that. Shinji shakes his head, unseen.

As his voice suggested, Shinji turns out to be a thin, mousy-looking young boy, who isn't as comfortable in his own skin as he would like to be. He's sitting on a bench in the Iskaulit's greater concourse, looking around nervously for the person who's wearing a gas mask. Beside him, contained in a single plastic canister, are the painkillers that he's willing to give away. There's also what looks like a thickly bound scrapbook--another part of his gardening project. Every time anyone comes up to him, he sits up much straighter, anxious as anything, only to deflate again when that person moves on. It shouldn't freak him out so much to meet someone new, yet that's just how it happens, every single time...

Finally, when the person he's looking for does appear:]

You weren't kidding about the gas mask, [he says, first, with a weak edge to his smile.] Anyway, I'm, uh... it's good to meet you, sir. I'm Shinji. I don't think I got to say that before, but I'm... yeah, I'm Shinji.

A little vision of the start and the end

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