driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: The burrito of death (aka Tek)
Broadcast: Audio, open to the fleet
Action: Bloodsport cargo hold
When: Broadcast day after the attack - Action open all month

[this one is sent in audio only, because goodness no one needs to see his current face--though, his voice isn't right either. it's too light, too delicate, and there is a little too much purr to it. especially without the aid of a video feed, it's hard to tell whether the speaker is male or female or monster at all.

and the tone is nothing but flat.]

Everyone is safe and accounted for? Nothing is entirely amiss? Wonderful.

[he isn't bitter about no one asking about his absence at all. nope. not one bit.]

So, I guess it's about time to start returning to our old routine, hmm? Everyone ready for things to go back to normal? Especially with such a good distraction from our recent little 'vacation home,' I know I sure am ready to forget about everything that just happened.

[this weapons-grade sarcasm could burn a hole through the floor.]

Especially with all of this new spending cash. ...Have you all checked your accounts today? The bonuses are already rolling in.

Isn't it wonderful.

[this sorry creature feels sickened and infuriated and doesn't have the strength to vent it any other way. so, a pissy broadcast it is!

and for anyone wandering the Red Fish any time soon, he can be found actually sitting up now. still wrapped in blankets and misery, but he's at least upright. it's a step.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I suppose, in a manner of speaking.

Is that all he'd said about it?

Nothing you haven't told me yourself. He was very respectful.

[he can't decide whether he's annoyed or grateful that Robin kept the whole thing to himself. so, he's quiet for a bit. he's considering just shutting the communicator off, and that fact probably shows in all the silence.

...he eventually encodes the message, however, and returns to the conversation.]

Under normal circumstances, I can't get sick. It is something I am immune to.

Ah. Another one of the perks of your mysterious race, I take it? I must admit, my curiosity grows voracious.

But what do you mean by "normal circumstances"? Did something happen?

Yes, something happened.

[but he... doesn't really want to snap at Mattias, in this case. despite the things that he is annoyed with him about, he'd much rather feel better right now.

and venting and vindication sounds like exactly what he needs.]

I'm not one to hide away in the bowels of someone's else's ship on a whim, you know.

[The way he shrinks back is audible.]

Y—Yes... I presumed you'd have more dignity than that. Hence my concern.

[his proverbial tail lashes like a cat's, but he lets his hackles slowly lower.

he waits until the sharpness has almost entirely left his voice before he speaks again.]

...Would you visit again?

Almost everyone has left the ship, for the time being.

Of course! I would've sooner but—[no, no need to dig himself a grave here. any excuse would turn out bumbling, at best. he clears his throat.]—Should I bring you something?

[yeah, he's already feeling placated. no need to screw that up now.]

...If you happened to have any spare meat or bones lying around your kitchen, I wouldn't mind something to eat.

Your wish is my command.

[Ha. An exagerration. It's a joke.

Shit. No. This isn't the time for that, is it?

Well, what's done is done. Give him a couple minutes to gather what he can—a collection of bones, one or two pieces of meat, paltry compared to his last donation—and knocks on the shuttle door. Then, upon remembering Tek's previous state, thinks better of waiting and walks in. If he can. Either way, he's there, calling warily:] Tek?

[and there he is, wrapped in his little throne of blankets and pillows, swaddled up in sheets like some kind of hooded burial shroud.]

Over here.

[--as if he actually needed to tell him where to go.

and he hadn't really spoken the last time that Mattias had breezed through. it's clear now though that even his voice is wrong. his face, his voice, all of it just a little too delicate and sunken. along with everything else marring up his appearance, the way the whole room has the tang of acid and old blood, so much of it doesn't match up with the man he'd spent time with before.

the feel of the place is just a little reminiscent of a monster he'd visited in a forest, however.]

[It's that same eerie familiarity he felt when he last visited, increased in amount. It creeps like a centipede up his spine, a sensation similar to Nocta but unique. Air stagnant where hers was shifting, heavy where hers flowed. A subtle difference but one that weighed on him as he stepped forward, the careful, slow steps of a man knowingly approaching a secret.]

I've brought what you asked. Should I leave it somewhere?

[some darkness is the open nighttime air, and some is the old, swollen shadows held inside of a crypt. and his is the second, sepulchral sort.

and he just holds out his hand, palm up, expecting Mattias to bring the offering all the way over to him.]

[He does so without further prompt, settling the bag into his open palm. Half-tempted to pull back, he hovers, toying with his own fingers.]

I hope it's adequate. We didn't have much more than bones.

[A white lie. He really didn't want to be scolded for taking all their meat.]

[it's enough of an offering--Tek takes it and sets it aside without checking the contents. and with his other hand, he leans up to reach for Mattias' wrist, to lead him half a step closer.]

Please sit.

[Again, he obeys, startled into silence by the hold. Wordlessly, he sits, legs folded to the side.]

What is this about, Tek? What's going on?

[He speaks with nothing less than eager concern, leaning forward slightly.]

I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to tell you a secret.

[and he busies himself with settling more comfortably in his pile of bedthings, while double-checking whether or not he really wants to reveal this vulnerability.

but, if there is anything that this little event has proven to him, is that he needs allies.]

I think you've earned a little bit of honesty.

Have I? I can't think of how.

[A beat. That sounded worse than he meant.] That sounds ungrateful. I'm honored, truly. Merely confused.

[Drawing back, he resettles.] But if you truly wish to tell me, I'll listen.

You met me in the woods, though I'm sure you didn't know it was me at the time. I was wearing a very different face.

[because Tek can't ever just say something plainly. he may have never given a straight answer in his life.

and he smirks very thinly to himself.]

You were quite complimentary.

In the woods? [His brow furrows.] But that's—

[It all comes in a rush. Their past conversations, the air around him, the smell of decay and rot. Gods, how had he not noticed before? He pulls back, a hand clasped over his mouth and a blush burning brightly on his cheeks.]

That was you? I—You—[Oh goddess. His voice lowers to a near squeak.]—You heard everything.

[the little smirk spreads into a sharp-toothed little smile. he's sure he'll never tire of seeing this man squirm.]

--As much as I could, anyway. Your voices sound very small from up high.

Then everything I said... [Oh gods! He covers his face, rocks back and groans. Figures, something like this would happen. He feels nothing short of a bumbling fool. But—then again, like always, he's intrigued too. And in the end that's what takes over.

Dragging his hands down his face, he scrubs at his eyes and shakes his head. As if that would free him of the embarrassment.] None of it was a lie, you know. You—[gods, it feels weird to say that.]—you were gorgeous.

[Finally, his hands leave his face and settle him with a befuddled expression.] Which is why I don't understand. Why live as a human? Or... well. Looking like one.

[he can't help it--he sits forward a little, eating up every little detail of Mattias' writhing embarrassment. it's fascinating and strange, and he croons a little under his breath.

it's nice not having to hide his less-than-human sounds, he will admit.]

Do you really have to ask that? Look what happened in the short time I revealed myself there.

[...there is also the matter of crippling vanity, but he won't mention that one out loud.]

Ah. [That's right. Death. Anger once more stews at the mere thought but he muffles it. Saves it for another time.]

Then this [he gestures to all of Tek] is recovery? Of some sort?

Of a sort, yes.

[he looks down at the back of his hand as he flexes his fingers, looking through skin that is too translucent, and not of the nice warm, living colors that it probably should be.]

My return didn't... go as it should have.

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