ass ; artemy burakh

[toxicate]

plampt

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w1 monday

[toxicate]

[ standing by the departures board in terminal 1 with a tilt to his head and his arms crossed. in plain clothes, no armour, but his sword is wrapped in shirt fabric at his waist. ]

Not very informative.

[bulls]

[ folding his arms over his chest similarly, artemy sits on his hip and has a look at the board himself, brow raised. he just has a nice blue sweater on and his olive green slacks.

raising a brow at the departures board, he hums. ]

No, and something tells me that considering what we've already had to deal with, things like "peaceful" and "tranquil" aren't the right descriptors?

[toxicate]

Considering mine was advertised as a "holiday", this is a running theme.

[ sighs. god forbid anything be straightforward even now they were all clearly familiar with the processes in some way or another. ]

An airport has a sense of anticipation about it, though, doesn't it?

w1, sunday (post-execution)

[bulls]

[ well the relaxation room is where we're at after execution! wahoo (but like sad). anyways he's here with a cup of tea and about to take seat when he realises someone else is in here. ]

Another week... all of them tend to feel far longer than they should.

[toxicate]

[ also has a cup, but it's. hot chocolate with marshmallows. his sweet tooth is indomitable. his face is set as usual, but there's a droop to the tips of his ears.

they pick up a little at the sound of company. ]

...yes. By now, we were about to head home from my last game.

[bulls]

[ not the drooping ears. at least he got the hot chocolate... ]

Ah... that's jarring, I bet.

From what I've heard, the pace of these games that take such a short amount of time seem to dump it all on you fast.

w3 monday

[toxicate]

[ he's stepped out to tend to his plants for the evening in the indoor gardens, feeling a little irritated about the day's happenings.

even more so as he lifts his head in greeting, only for another gust of wind to stir up a memory. ]

[bulls]

[ there is so much to take in here, but it really is that kind of week, isn't it? artemy witnesses it from beginning to end, feeling the wind pick up as a realization settled in, a fight ensued, witnessing mordalion and his walking thegrea through his methods. the poison sticks in the back of his mind, poison is always such a curious thing - even cures can kill in the right amounts.

as it fades just as mordalion begins to, fog and all, he lets out a soft "huh", his eyes on him curiously. these are always so invasive, so he just makes his way slowly forward, as if he's more curious about the plants, though he glances to meet his eyes. ]

I've never seen poison utilized in such a way...

[toxicate]

[ oddly he's appreciative of the reaction, a little, ears having drooped from the reliving of such a frustrating time picking up a little again. artemy's gaze is met easily, a half-tilt of his head in recognition, before he returns to the plants while responding. ]

Yes, well. She's a cautious and very resilient woman, though far too straightforward for us to ever properly get along. I very much didn't want to kill her, either, so it was a bizarre balancing act to make it work.

w4 saturday

[toxicate]

[ he'll be exiting the gardens via the nature walk as is the usual saturday evening event, but there's a flinty sort of hardness behind the usual soft neutrality of his expression.

it's been a long day. ]

Re: w4 saturday

[bulls]

[ hi friend i was super dead this weekend wow! in any case yeah it's been a pretty damn long day. artemy is just sat on a bench tiredly somewhere towards the end of the nature walk/gardens. there's definitely a look of just feeling Lost about this entire debacle, an edge of pain to it. ]

What a garbage day...

[toxicate]

[ hi welcome back <3

this guy's just brushing soil off of his wrists, considering whether to approach. but he does, and pulls a small plant bulb from his pocket to hand to him. ]

It was terrible.

w5, thursday

[bulls]

[ hello he's here and just peering into first aid or wherever mord might be after All Of That. hell poke his head in, worry in the periphery of his emotionshare right now. ]

Hey... up for some company?

[toxicate]

[ going to assume this is before kabby killed us personally because otherwise he would be much less amicable to it but. yes. he's in first aid.

he'll sit up a little more, still covered in cuts and with the missing section of his neck/shoulder bandaged but still clearly bleeding. ]

I don't mind. It's miserable in here.

[bulls]

[ lmao i know because he would literally be here and be the most austere person right now. but he does bring some more, clean bandages if he needs some changing. he pulls up a seat. ]

No kidding - good for your health, not so good for your sanity. You were the only one that came back... were there others with you at least? Wherever it is you ended up?

w6, monday

[bulls]

[ this is sort of the last place he was and the last place he wants to be, so the feelings are complicated, but at least it's not emotionshare. hydroponics and life support are where they'll wander by, and artemy nearly walks past it like business as usual before he backtracks a bit and gestures to mordalion to come inside.

the eudora's well-lit halls can't compare, in artemy's perspective, to the fact that even here in the limitless void of space, green things can take root and grow. unusual plants flowering from all sorts of planets as preservation projects, more familiar blossoms and blooms, fruit and vegetables, all of it can be found in hydroponics, along with a comfortable place to sit in the shape of cozy white hanging pods full of blankets. ]

Just like I left it... feels strange to be back like this.

[toxicate]

[ oh hell yes. the futuristic architecture of the ship isn't that unfamiliar to mordalion, even if he'd never actually been in space before - areas of the sanctuary resembled the techy aesthetic enough that it didn't feel out of the ordinary, starry view aside.

but he feels far, far more at home amidst the greenery. it's still not his office, the toxic jungle cultivated so carefully, but enclosed like this it gave a similar sense. he'll reach out to idly brush a petal with his fingertips, clearly fascinated. ]

What a beautiful place. This was yours to care for?

w6, thursday; curfew

[bulls]

[ we're at chilly's for curfew, just having a nice, quiet night! there are frozen margaritas and a decent spread for two people to pick at before the inevitable wave of sleep hits them. artemy as always dresses comfortably in the booth just kind of slowly stirring this margarita like he doesn't know how he feels about it! but in any case, happy curfew. ]

I'd say hell of a week, but that's always been the case. It just gets a little more crazy each time. [ a soft smile ] Almost to the finish line, though.

[toxicate]

[ speaking of dressing comfortably, everyone was complaining about his blue version of this but sweet rosamund sent him a purple one so. he's wearing it. it's comfortable and he really could not care less that it's considered tacky.

mordalion picks idly at his nachos, watching artemy stir the margarita like it's got answers for them. he cracks a tortilla chip pointedly between his teeth, leaning back with a sigh. ]

Almost. You'll be thrown right back into hard work though, won't you? No time for a holiday. [ ...well, ] Unless you go to Australia, I suppose.

w7 tuesday

[toxicate]

[ casually backdates. anyway, meadow! the outdoors! flowers and frolicking!

or none of that and instead a coffee and sandwich while chilling outdoors and picking petals from around them. that too. ]

This air is almost suspiciously fresh, isn't it?

[bulls]

[ he's contributing a blanket to their not-frolicking, so they have somewhere nice to settle in with their coffee and sandwiches. leaning back on his hands to enjoy true photosynthesis!!!! ]

A bit, but at this point I'll take what I can get. Feels like it shouldn't be real in the middle of an airport. It's like the weird outdoor spaces we had aboard the Eudora... wrong, but... when you're stuck inside most of the time you can't bear to question it too too much.

w7 wednesday night

[toxicate]

[ it's afterparty! where are we going? why is this guy somehow not the slightest bit drunk despite all the alcohol consumed. annoying.

whatever let's go for a walk... somewhere... ]

What happened to the crocosmia I gave you?

Re: w7 wednesday night

[bulls]

[ we can walkkkk along the foresty paths around the outdoor portion of the party away from all the dense festivities! no bears, though. the fact that mord isn't even drunk is so funny, because artemy definitely is just a touch buzzed. he's got the russian blood in him that keeps him from getting utterly shitfaced, but there is an easiness to his step despite the ever-present slight heaviness to the right. ]

I'd made a ritual of leaving it out to get sunlight for most of the morning and afternoon on the flight deck before bringing it back to the lounge in the evenings ever since you left it to me. [ a soft laugh ] Don't think I was dead long enough to disrupt it too much.

w7, saturday

[bulls]

[ he'll just be out in some fresh air - gardens, flight deck, anywhere you might like. he's just letting the end of this settle over him finally, his emotions just a little furrowed and twisting, though they brighten up a touch when he sees him. ]

It's finally over, huh.

[toxicate]

[ depatures always feel a little melancholy, don't they? even ones that take you away from places with bad memories. there's usually a few good ones mixed in. they can chill on the flight deck, and he'll come over to stand close beside him with that brightening of emotions met with a mirroring flicker. ]

An exhausting mess of a day, but things seem to have worked out.