Alert! Alert!

[thespaceopera]

[bright and early one Sunday morning, proximity alarms begin to blare. could it be another set of disorienting malfunctions?

no... this one is for real. the Drift Fleet is under attack!

any ship with a scanning array will pick up a small swarm of ships--roughly the same caliber as the ships in your fleet--swooping in fast from distant space. any pilot, engineer, or communications officer who remembers those strange blips in the radar over the last several months can confirm that this is that very same group that's been following them. this time, they're not leaving room for negotiations, and they will not respond to any hailing or threats. they are on a mission.

within minutes, weapons are live, and the fleet is fired upon. suddenly, the casual drifting of the fleet turns into something much more real, and much more dangerous.

do you follow your augment's call and run to your station? do you flee your responsibilities? do you wish you could help and can't? are the captains leading or floundering, and are their crews even listening?

for a few terrifying moments, the fleet will be hammered, and Atroma is silent. you are all on your own, dear passengers. your little ships are not prepared for this, you have not been trained--and your enemies have no such trouble. a few ships are even shot down, forced to make crash-landings on nearby stations.

things look grim as the terribly-outmatched little fleet fights to defend itself... until the attacking fleet suddenly turns and bolts back into the darkness without warning.

maybe the attack was a warning. maybe they were just testing you. maybe something frightened them off.

whatever the reason, you are all left beaten and confused, without explanation at all.]


ooc post → here
this is a little event to kick off April! and it is essentially a glorified themed mingle, so there is no rush to reply to this immediately. the outcomes of the ships have been predetermined, based on the augments of the crews. all of that information and more (including info for people on hiatus and who wish to opt-out) can be found on the ooc post as well.

flourish or buckle under the pressure, help or hinder, and most importantly-- have fun!

Comments

[noctiphile]

[Well, at least he's sitting. Mattias stops his nagging with a clear frown that only worsens at the question.]

You can feel pain. [He brushes over it, as if stating something obvious.] I'll explain some other time. [Not that he wants to. He doubts someone off-world will understand the practice. He sets off, moving to clear a mountain of debris from the doorway.] Now feels inappropriate for such explanations.

[lord_wizard]

[Felix makes a quiet sound of acknowledgement at the statement, and doesn't press the question any further, which says as much for the state of his head any the blood does. He watches Mattias with pain-fogged eyes.]

[noctiphile]

[It's fairly amazing how fast Mattias clears the debris. It's efficient, a machine, once he gets into a rhythm. Soon enough the door is clear and he's walking back to Felix, scooping him up with both arms. Holding him like a bride, he calls back to Oren, wherever he is, that he'll be right back. Then, to Felix:]

We're at least getting it cleaned.

[He doesn't take him to the med lab but the bathroom, settling him down gently before ripping a line of fabric from his own, tattered clothes. Turning the shower on only reveals a trickle of water so he moves to a broken pipe that. Well. He thinks it's clean water. Wetting the scrap, he moves back to Felix, pressing the damp cloth to his head.] How does it feel?

[lord_wizard]

[A lot of this strikes Felix as very odd, and adds more and more questions onto the pile of oddities that was Mattias. He doesn't have the energy to say anything about it, though, and he honestly only half notices as it was. The sound of shifting debris was not doing much for the state of his headache.

Being handled easy easily as said scrap was only mildly embarrassing. Mattias doesn't give him time to protest that he can walk on his own, and his witchlights follow them obediently down the hall.

He doesn't realize he's blanked out for several moments until the cool cloth touches the wound, and then he flinches, blinks, and then attempts to keep himself still] Wet? [Maybe it's a good sign he can be a smart ass. He smiles in a slightly pained way before continuing.] It's fine. Outside of the abysmal headache, in any case.

[noctiphile]

[At least his smartassery is met with a slight quirk, the barest grin. Concerns overtakes it though and soon enough he's back to mopping up the blood.]

Is there anything else aside from the headaches? Memory loss? Dizziness? Drowsiness? Anything of that sort?

[He keeps his voice soft so as not to aggravate the aforementioned headache any further.]

[lord_wizard]

[He considers that he should probably feel more upset at being doted over like this but the expression also carries with it a pleasant warmth]

Dizziness. Yes. [It's the biggest reason standing is such a chore]

I'm not sure I remember the crash either, though everything else seems to be where I left it.

[He appreciates the soft tone, too. He'd dim his witchlights if Mattias didn't need them to see what he was doing. He closes his eyes instead]

[noctiphile]

[Mattias frowns when Felix closes his eyes, ignoring the irrational worry that says he won't wake up. He knows better.]

I think you may have a concussion. [Which is... bad, but not the worst that could have happened.] Have you anything else that hurts? An arm? A leg?

[He doesn't really wait for an answer, turning over limbs in his hands.]

[lord_wizard]

[Flatly] Perfect.

[He winces a little at the prodding, the most at the movement of his arm]

My shoulder...a little. I don't think anything is broken. A few bruises when I fell, most likely. I'll be fine.

[noctiphile]

I'm going to remove your shirt. Do you mind?

[Too bad, he's already doing it, lifting part of it and sliding the arm out. Before Felix can protest, he's running his fingers over the bruises, gently testing to see how deep they go. Make sure there's nothing worse.]

[lord_wizard]

[He does make a sound of protest but Mattias has him at a disadvantage, and the sound gets lost in a pained gasp. It occurs to him to be thankful for the dim lighting. It's harder to see the scars on his back.]

Mmf...must you?

[It's plain that he landed rather heavily on his right side, and the forming bruise on his shoulder is definitely the worst, where he probably collided with one of the consoles during the sudden stop.

It turns out he's grateful for the darkness for another reason as the touch brings to the surface a little of the desire he's been repressing weeks now despite, or maybe in part because of, the pain. Mentally he curses himself and tries to think about other things]

What do you think they will do if the ship won't fly any longer?

[noctiphile]

They'd give us a new one, wouldn't they? I doubt they'd bring us all this way and then simply leave us. Particularly when they're the reason we didn't have shields in the first place.

[Thankfully, Mattias is blissfully ignorant of Felix's misfortunes, scrutinizing the bruise with clear concern.]

We should get ice for this.

[He stands, dusting himself off.] I'll be back.

[And, in a matter of minutes, he is, with a bag of ice and a thin bit of fabric. He wraps the bag with the fabric and sets it on the bruise, holding it there as he resettles beside Felix.] I'm sorry. For how I acted earlier on the bridge. I'm not—I get brusque in situations like that.

[lord_wizard]

[He's at least collected himself a bit by the time Mattias gets back. He lifts a hand to hold the ice, rather than forcing the man to keep playing nursemaid]

Implying you've been in situations like that before.

[noctiphile]

[With the removal of his only distraction, Mattias pulls back. His gaze falls, landed at a spot between them.]

Only recently. [But then he's looking at Felix, smiling reassuringly.] Life has been tumultuous these past few months, but that's what life does. It ebbs and flows and all we can do is ride the current.

[lord_wizard]

As long as it keeps going, I'm sure we will manage. [He smile back, attempting to not feel quite so self conscious, though after a beat he does switch hands and slip his arm back into his shirt, bruises be damned]

[noctiphile]

[Mattias says nothing of the return to his shirt, though he does watch intently. He's too caught up in thought, mulling over Felix's words. When he finally speaks, it's softly.]

And if it doesn't continue?

[lord_wizard]

[His answer is just as soft]

I try not to think about that.

[noctiphile]

[It's the way he says it that has Mattias smiling, ducking his head to hide it. Then, he's back to Felix's arm, though only with a mere touch. A comfort, rather than a necessity.]

Luckily, you seem quite close to the land of the living.

[It's meant as a joke and he shows it with a quirk of his lips.]

[lord_wizard]

[This time, he doesn't shy away. Doesn't even flinch.]

Thank you. I intend to keep it that way.

[He smiles back, weakly, feeling wobbly in a way that isn't entirely from the head wound.]

[noctiphile]

See that you do. I'd hate to drag your ass back from the realm of the dead.

[He offers a lopsided grin, pulling his hand away.] Now then. Should I let you rest?

[lord_wizard]

Please. I'll just...stay here until you can locate our dear captain. Make sure something heavy hasn't fallen on her...

[noctiphile]

But of course. [He smiles and stands, glancing back only when he's at the doorframe.] You're not the only damsel I have to save.

[And, yeah. He's going to peek his head back in a minute or two later.]—Don't her I said that.

[Then he's gone.]