driftfleet | Tarsakh 2 1369 DR

Who: Syeira and anyone!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: The Marsiva
When: Midnight April 2nd (mostly to avoid any confusing with the April Fools stuff going on)

[It is not a graceful waking. The figure covered in a shimmery cloak suddenly startles awake, over alert, mostly fighting with the fabric as it tangles them up like a net. The person falls out of the bunk, making a sound like a discordant windchime when they land. Only then do they fight the clasp open and fling the cloak off, taking in a gasp of air, as if they'd been choking.

It's a girl, with wild curly long hair, the color of freshly spilt blood. She's wide eyed for a moment, before whatever she'd been dreaming about faded. Then reality sinks in around her. Definitely not Suldanessellar, and she's definitely alone. A quick pat shows she's been disarmed.

She heaves a big sigh, running both hands through her hair -oh look, she's going pointed ears- and letting her ehad fall back against the bunk behind her with a controlled thud.]

Is it Second-day already? And here I thought I'd at least get one night to myself before my next abduction.

[She shivers, realizing she's still cold, when the chill from her nightmare should be seeping away. She rubs her arms, and then awkwardly yanks the cloak out from under her. Standing, she puts the thing back on, and if anyone has been watching this little scene from the start, suddenly that attractiveness she has seems to kick up a notch or two. Magic. Now huddled inside the shimmery cloak, she goes about getting her bearings. In doing so, she discovers her communicator, after having accidentally kicked it a little. Oops. Picking that up, she holds it in her palm for a moment, realizing she knows what this thing does. A think she's never seen before.

Tsk. Nod. Just great.]

And I've been force fed knowledge about things I've never seen. Gosh, is it my birthday too?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[A woman after his own heart.]

Ooh, yes, you definitely should. That's practically an outrage! Have you considered having a stern conversation with your kidnappers? There are procedures to follow, you know.

[a beat]

Or you could just drop a couple dozen eggs on their heads, that helped for me once.

[She laughs. Genuinely.]

You dumped eggs on someone who kidnapped you?

Sure.

[Cheerfully, like it ain't nothing at all.]

... In my defense, I was bored and if he spent half as much time paying attention to the world around him as he did admiring his own face in his breastplate, it might not have worked quite so well.

You know, you probably could have just escaped without wasting the eggs. It's pretty hard to see anything if you're staring at your chest. You could have just tiptoed away and had breakfast.

[He waves one hand, as if that thought had already occurred to him.]

Oh, the timing wasn't good enough for that anyhow. I'd only just gotten taken back after the fourth time, I needed to lay low for a while.

[Laying low dropping eggs from third floor balconies, yes.]

It sounds like the same people keep coming after you?

[She senses a story, please tell her?]

[He shakes his head, dismissive, like the story isn't important.]

You know how it is. Some people decide you're a menace to society without even asking and it's like there's someone looking to lock you away every time you sneeze in the wrong direction. And they get so cranky when you decide you'd rather just live your life.

[Wow, bulls-eye there Anders. She immediately looks empathetic.]

Yes, I know exactly how that is. It's good you kept escaping.

[He brightens, in maybe what is a painfully obvious way. It's not the reaction he usually gets when he says things along those lines.]

That's what I always say! What a coincidence. I think we'll get along just fine, you and I. What did you say your name was?

[Well if he keeps talking to her, he'll probably run into that reaction a lot.]

I think we skipped that part. I'm Syeira, and it's always a pleasure to meet someone who'll get along with me.

Anders. [With a hand against his chest. He tips an imaginary hat with the other.] A pleasure, Syeira. And can I just say, the penchant for escaping only makes you even more lovely than you were already.

[Uh-oh. A compliment she can't deny is aimed directly at her. What can she do?

Blush a little bit. Flail internally. Attempt to play it down.]

There's no need for flattery. We're already past the part where we've decided we might be well suited friends, right?

[His grin turns lopsided at the edges. He perches his chin on the heel of one hand, affecting deep consideration.]

What, we aren't permitted to pay friends compliments? And here I am with a whole list I was ready to use. That won't do at all.

[Don't cheat, Anders.]

Everyone likes to hear nice things about themselves.

[She tucks some hair back behind her ear, definitely pink now. Half is bashfulness, half is awkwardness from maybe, possibly, having offended him a little. ]

I just prefer to earn it that's all.

[Offended, hardly. Amused, very much so.]

Who says it hasn't been earned? Even the inclination towards a daring escape attempt is a point in my book. A few points, even!

Can they really be called daring attempts when they're as perfunctory as one's morning routine? Wake up, put on boots, break the lock on the cell, make tea.

On contrary, I think that makes them even more daring. No one expects a casual stroll out the door. I think it's brilliant.

Well maybe I'll get lucky and be able to stroll out the front door here.

[She has absolutely no conviction in this. There's just too many people here, all of them quite capable seeming, and not the least bit resigned to their fate. These are not people who sit around waiting to be rescued. Getting out is going to be a definite challenge.]

I promise to let you know if I find the exit, of course.

That would be marvelous of you, if you can spare the time to send a little message in between your leap to freedom.

[He doesn't actually expect her to. Every man, woman, and child for themselves, and all that.]

Consider the promise returned.

[That he does mean, though.]

Oh, I won't leave until every last prisoner here is out first. Don't worry.

[She's completely sincere. Syeira doesn't leave people behind, if she has a choice in it.]

That's very noble of you.

[He likes to think he'd be the first one out the door, without looking back. Whether or not that's actually true is something else.]

The last one out is usually the first one caught, you know.

Well, I guess that accounts for my terrible track record for being abducted.

[Cheerful smile. This is a far better joke than the one she might have made that involved everyone who might stop them being dead. That one didn't sound funny at all.]

It would, at that! Maybe you should try being second to last this time. I'd offer, but.

[He shrugs. But, no, he wouldn't. Other people's freedom is important to him, but not more important to him than his own is.]

Nah, I'm comfortable in my rut.

[She is...the opposite. She'll gladly take up the rear position of escape if it means everyone else gets out.]

[A sigh, exaggerated and put-upon.]

You noble types are going to be the death of the rest of us one day, I swear. [Probably the exact opposite, but who's counting.] If I see you during this hypothetical great exodus, I'll do what I can to shuffle you out.

Provided it doesn't set up a hurdle between me and the exit, mind.

Tarsakh 2 1369 DR - Awakening

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