video;

[noctiphile]

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. ]

Comments

[noctiphile]

Ha. I suppose it would. [He takes a deep breaths and shifts in his seat, crossing his legs.] The difficulty is that there aren't many places here where I feel at peace. There's the VRD, I suppose, but even that feels unnatural.

[He's talking more to himself than to Van, though he pauses to flick his gaze back to the screen.] Where do you do it?

[peacockherald]

I understand your meaning. It creates places, but... it is hard to forget they are just clever illusions.

_{[ He is patient, letting Mattias get around to things in his own time. Moondance had to be the same with him, as did his Aunt. Better to take from their lessons and return them now. ]}

In a quiet corner of the ship, some unoccupied room if I can find one, sometimes when I lay down to sleep at night. I have not tried in the private VRD room though. I have not found the place I am most comfortable just yet, but if you have such a place, use that.

[noctiphile]

And if I can't? What would the next step be?

[peacockherald]

You learn to block out the other distractions.

[noctiphile]

That's it? [He sounds skeptical. Then, flatly:]You're underestimating the power of my distractions.

[peacockherald]

All the more reason for you to learn how to block them out when you need to.

Interesting crew mates, I take it?

[noctiphile]

[He flops back in his seat, massaging his forehead.]

They're the stress I speak of. The hostility on board is crushing.

[peacockherald]

_{[ He pursed his lips at that phrasing, brows drawing together curiously. ]}

Are you you gifted with empathy, by chance?

[noctiphile]

[He nearly laughs but holds it back with a hand to his mouth.]

I'm sorry, what?

[peacockherald]

Empathy - the ability to feel or read another person's feelings or project your own onto another.

_{[ As in it's an actual, magical gift. ]}

[noctiphile]

I know how you meant it. [Goddess, it's too funny. Him? Magical? He bites back a laugh but can't stop the smile, shaking his head.] No, no. Goddess, no, I don't. Why? What brought that on?

[peacockherald]

You mentioned that you could feel the hostility of your crew mates. Considering others here have magical abilities, I thought that might be part of the problems you are having. Learning to shield would have done you more good in that case than my teaching you to meditate.

_{[ Vanyel had to carefully shield nearly one hundred percent of the time thanks to being an empathy and a telepath.}

His mouth twitched, laughing a little with the other, not sure why. ]

But I see now I misconstrued.

[noctiphile]

[Once he sees that twitch of the mouth, it feels safe. He laughs, light and airy, shaking his head.] No, no. I'm afraid the hostility on my ship is merely that palpable. It's like—[Oh! His eyes light up.]—Do you know of swamps?

[He says the word as if it's new.]

[peacockherald]

_{[ His eyebrows go up, wondering where this might be leading. ]}

Swamps? Yes, though I cannot say I have ever been through one. Well, not a true one, though certain areas I passed through after heavy rain might as well have been.

_{[ Yfandes had been most upset about that particular excursion, and had not been properly happy until he'd wiped her coat back to its proper snowy color. ]}

[noctiphile]

I've only learned of them recently and, well. With the VRD, it's amazing! I can wade through them! Almost feel it, too! It's delightful! You must try it—

[Ah. Wait. He had a point here. He clears his throat.] ... Anyway, the aggression on my ship is so thick you might as well be wading through one.

[peacockherald]

_{[ There's a moment where he's honestly a little taken aback, but... he smiles, letting out a softer laugh, amused at the other's enthusiasm for something so odd. ]}

It is an apt analogy.

I'm sorry the situation is so tense. Though if you like swamps so much, perhaps trying meditation in the VRD might not be a bad idea with a swamp setting.

_{[ Why the other liked them so much he could not say, but to each their own, yes? ]}

[noctiphile]

[He laughs again, ducking his head bashfully.]

Oh, no. I couldn't. I fear I'd be too excited. Such foreign landscapes are too stimulating. There's too much to discover. [which reminds him...] —Do you know of moss?

[peacockherald]

_{[ An interesting question. What world did this one come from that he did not know of moss? ]}

Yes, I know of moss. It can be quite useful, for navigation and some healing purposes.

... Is there no moss in your world?

[noctiphile]

Healing and navigation? Truly? [He can barely contain a smile.] How wonderful. I—No, there's none where I come from. Well, perhaps there is but I doubt many have seen it. Water, moisture—it's not common. To see worlds so green is a true privilege.

[He smiles at the camera then turns away again, bashful, embarrassed.]

Forgive me. You came to teach me of meditation and I've simply rambled. My excitement overwhelms sometimes. I didn't mean to bore you.

[peacockherald]

You are hardly boring.

_{[ The words are genuine, carrying a kind warmth. ]}

Moss is good for placing on wounds to staunch bleeding or use as covering if you cannot get to bandages right away. You can use it to keep track of the direction you've been going, make your way back through woods. Not completely reliable, but useful. You can also use moss to pack something fragile - like a glass bottle.

_{[ All things he'd learned over the course of nearly a decade training to become a Herald and being one. Amazing, the sorts of situations it put one through. ]}

[noctiphile]

[He listens, nodding in all the right places, being a respectable audience, but all the while a smirk creeps back to his lips.]

You're quite the expert in all sorts of areas, aren't you? [It comes on a low chuckle.] Is there anything else you'd like to enlighten me on?

[peacockherald]

_{[ A small laugh, reaching up to brush his hair back behind his ear - the side with the silver strand. Always that side. ]}

Not an expert, I would say. But I know a little bit about quite a few things. It is necessary in order for me to do my job, in my world.

_{[ And survive, in some cases. More than once he had spent weeks in a slow crawl along the border, avoiding detection as best he could, moss packed against his chest from some wound or another. ]}

If I can be said to be an expert in any area, it is my magic.

[noctiphile]

How convenient that I've taken a fondness to learning about it. [He smiles, chin resting on an open palm.] Explain it to me.

[peacockherald]

Magic?

_{[ Brows up, but he is not adverse to explaining it. It was only one of many of his Gifts. ]}

Ah, how to explain? It is a force I can call upon within myself, and I use it to control the forces around me. I can shield with air or strike with lightning, create protections. More rarely I can create Gates - doors, of a sort, that allow a person to travel between long distances in a single step.

_{[ But he did not like creating those. They hurt. They hurt so much. ]}

[noctiphile]

Gates? [Now, that's an intriguing prospect.] How far?