driftfleet | video;

Who: Mattias Larnaca
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: general waystation area?? vague hand gestures
When: April 22nd

[Lo and behold: Mattias fretting on a bench. It's not an obvious sort of motion, restricted to subtle shifts and twitching fingers, but it's noticeable enough to matter. He's hunched over the comm and what little the background shows is unrevealing. The corner of a building here, the awning of a kiosk there, everything unspecific.]

It's been quite a month, hasn't it? What with the attacks... [he drifts off, never very good with small talk. One of the many gifts he lacks.] It's been good to watch all the repairs. People working together... [Wow, he sure does suck at this. He chews his lip, glancing around as if looking for help. Nope. Nothing. Maybe he'll just get to the point.]

Still, tensions must be running high. Stress and such. Always have a way of sinking in. I've my own, of course. My ship fared poorly in the attacks and that—[He glances away, head sinking slightly.]—it's been the lesser of many events. I don't mean to complain but the effects are starting to wear. My usual methods aren't working. Reading—I just can't seem to concentrate and beyond that... Well. I've little else.

[He sighs, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. It messes it up a bit, but he's careful to smooth it back down.] It feels inappropriate to ask something so selfish but I'm at a loss. And there are a great many things that all of you know... [That I don't is heavily implied. He glances away, switching the comm to one hand so he can properly wring his wrist.] So, I was wondering—how do you cope? With... all of this. It doesn't have to be personal just. Just simple things. Like... jumping off a building. [Immediately, he scrunches his eyes closed.] —Bad example. But, you know what I mean.

[Fiddling nervously, he searches for something else to say, finds nothing, and cuts the feed. ]

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[Even tense as he is, he can't resist the allure of new sights. At least, that's what he thinks Nel is talking about.]

Like what? And, forgive me, but what exactly do you mean by "a club"? I don't think you're talking about the weapon.

[he sighs a little, but Mattias isn't the first person who has apparently never heard of a club before, so he can't be too put-out over it. he'll just have to describe it for his poor, deprived friend.]

It's a place you go that's all dark, and there's music everywhere, and you just... get lost in it. You drink and get a little fucked up, you know, and you meet people.

[he just... is excited and wistful at once, all caught up in just thinking about it. it's a much more emphatic state than the demure face he usually puts on.]

You dance with people, get a little crazy... find a dark corner to sneak away to...

[It's intriguing, watching his expression change. Telling in more ways than one. He studies it closely before glancing away.]

I suppose I can [he coughs] see the appeal of that.

[He might be blushing. Lightly. But yup.]

It's great. You just... stop thinking about everything that's bothering you, and...

[he sighs. already too invested in the idea. he'd been good about feeling overly restless lately, but it's all coming back now. it makes his skin itch.]

...How bad are you feeling? Do you want to, like... go do something about it now?

What? You mean—[Oh. Gods. What is he getting into?]—With you?

[Ah, wait. He waves a hand.] I don't—I don't mean for that to sound insulting but... we barely know each other. And I'm—[gods be praised this feed is encrypted]—I'm not... very good.

[he actually does really well at not laughing at him about it, because if Nel has anything, it is professional tact in these areas. he isn't phased at all, and--if anything--his smile just gets warmer.]

No, see, that's part of what makes it great. There's no strings attached or anything, I'm just, like... helping you relax and stuff. You don't really have to do a thing.

I—[no strings attached? could it be that easy? and he's not technically with anyone now so it should be... He bites his lip, blush still remaining.]—What do you mean I don't have to do anything?

[gods, why is he considering this]

Meet me and I'll show you. [--and there is his high-octane flirtation--bringing out only the best in his smile and tone of voice.]

Oh-- and I bet I could come up with a great room in that virtual thing!

[because haha guess who paid no attention at all to the family-friendly guidelines.]

[Oh gods, what does he even say to that flirtation? He just ignores it for now, blushing deeper.]

I don't have anything to offer in return. I wouldn't—I don't want to have to pay you. It wouldn't feel right.

I'm not a whore. [--said as quickly and casually as he can, trying hard not to sound too insulted by the implication. he hates having to make the distinction out loud, but it has happened often enough. he can at least try to let the sting of it glance off of him, for now.]

It's just to blow off some steam. It's just fun. It's no big deal.

I didn't mean it like that! I—[He recoils, glancing down.] I'm sorry.

[It's just casual. It's a hard idea to wrap his mind around so he keeps repeating it, hoping it will stick.]

I'll... I'll meet you there.

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