[ 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.
[ alcohol is just a type of poison at the end of the day, and cray's average elven constitution is extremely good... unfortunately for mordalion, who would've liked to be at least a little drunk several times during this whole mess. but oh well. he can be a solid support if that easiness progressed to overbalance. ]
Dedicated, aren't you? [ and good thing you weren't gone long. ] They're fairy hardy, I'm sure it's fine. The plants in the gardens develop and bloom much faster than normal, but I wasn't sure if it would be the same in a pot.
[ mord... if only something were strong enough to give him at least
a bit of a buzz.
he'd hardly be the kind to say aloud if he needed the help with his leg,
though thanks to emoshare, there's a gradual twinge on occasion with
steeper leverage. the overall vibes are that he likes the walk and the
company and that he's felt worse, but a phantom pain is a phantom pain, a
dull, tingling stinging between dancing with kate and spending much of it
stood on his feet. the cost of partying not once, but twice in short
succession (and maybe having the entire thing ripped out.) ]
They're not unlike kids themselves - each of them's different, requiring
different things. [ he offers a soft, warm smile. ] Potted
means I can at least bring it back to the Eudora 'til I'm done with work at
home. Wouldn't want it to be harmed by my neglect if the worst happens.
It's not a good idea to speak things into existence, Artemy. Your gut feeling needs to overpower your voice sometimes.
[ priceless coming from the guy with a nonexistent filter, but whatever. even though the vibes are mostly positive, maybe they should find a place to rest soon enough, or turn back for something more comfortable than a forestside bench. the smile does earn just the faintest one in return - a rare sight indeed. ]
You're still able to access the Eudora from your home? That seems useful.
Can't help but be a little realistic. The goal isn't to make this my
seventeenth death by any means...
[ i'm sure a bench or a nicely-placed log exists somewhere around
here. he won't complain about finding one or not. the company overpowers
the pain that's been pretty consistent for well over sixteen months at this
point. ]
Mm, the I.R.I.S. is a piece of technology that allows us to move from our
world back to the ship, like one great hub. We can move between each
other's worlds as well with it... that ship went through hell and gave us a
gift for all of it, truly.
...seventeen. [ HELLO? ] I died twice and both were horrible, and you're just casually throwing 'seventeen' into the conversation.
[ made of incredibly strong stuff, aren't you. through this pain, too - they can keep walking for a while, since the environment is nice, but he'll keep an eye out for a nice place to stop. ]
Out of all the places we've been able to visit, I liked that ship the best. That's a very useful gift... gratitude of a high quality.
The ship was a terminal patient at first - infected by a vicious disease that lurked silently, terrorized the minds of everyone aboard, spreading panic and anxiety enough to bring people to murder each other left at right.
First it was the original crew we knew as the first eight abducted, then once it had killed or driven them off, it took over our minds, started in on the dozens of "new recruits" it'd abducted again. The ones you see here now - Rosamund, Ichiban, Mizuki... once we'd managed to evict the disease from the ship for good, she'd transformed for us, clean and new.
[ and while he'd love to gloss over his deaths i will give you Lore for the road since we can memshare this week. as he slowly finds a seat here, a soft wind picks up and with it, a play of a man who won't give up. ]
And as the doctor you are, you must have been relieved to see her freed from suffering, especially after all the disease had done to you and the others. Gratitude is difficult to express on small levels. For a vast intelligence to try and show hers so plainly, that gift is what she could provide. Communication and a haven.
[ it's a relief to hear, somehow. that the ship would be a comfort for those who had helped her. a kinder ending than many he'd heard from others.
but they draw to a stop and. well. eats this lore (me, aaya). mordalion on the other hand witnesses it with his ears dropping low and a steely anger behind his eyes. ]
...you've had to bear more than enough without suffering the actions of yet another manipulator.
Shiro was the one who was most connected to the AI, but he's always been
very close with the vastness of space and its various machines - he piloted
an enormous mechanized lion, Black. Protected the universe with several
others working with him closely.
[ tipping his head upwards ]
For all the grief being in space gave me, it's an experience I don't think
I'd wish to forget for all the terror it's filled me with.
[ and as that memory takes hold, artemy finds himself growing quiet,
sat with his hands held fast in his lap and his face turned towards the
wind, eyes closed. it isn't the first time he's had to relive the barrage
of emotion and futility and pain, but as it dies down, he seems to slump a
little, breaths slow and steady. it's what he has to return to, it's a
prison that he's almost finished digging his way out of. ]
... it will be done soon enough. No matter how many tries it takes... but
I'd like to avoid dying that one, last time. I like who I've become. I've
no intention of letting another understudy or actor take my place, mess
with my "interpretation" of my own life.
[ a mechanised lion? there's a brief flash of thought, just images of several spacefaring robots of a more humanoid design, but it's not particularly important. just a similar concept, perhaps. space and machines.
instead his thoughts and emotions shift to something still subtle, but complex. the terror of the unknown... so different from how it had struck them in key nueve, an experience that despite his friendship with hulkenberg and strohl, he would have been willing to forget before arriving here. now, he's not as certain.
with a measured motion, mordalion takes a seat beside him, close enough that their shoulders brush. he's terrible at comfort, but a presence can sometimes be enough. an arm slowly lifts to curl around artemy's shoulders, held steady. ]
...your gut feeling. Move it to your heart and hold it there. "Hope" can serve as a shield as well as a scalpel, if given a chance. Death won't touch that, at least not yet.
[ comfort is never something he asks for, so when their shoulders brush, he turns his head a little, and when the arm settles around him, his brow pinches as though to say "you don't have to do that." it's steady, though, and he sinks a bit into it in response, he doesn't want to pull away to begin with. secretly, he craves touch, dispenses it lightly and easily himself, but accepts it with uncertainty always. ]
Such wise words... I'll have to carry them with me alongside that hope too...
[ he gazes downwards, legs stretching out before him a bit to cross at the ankle. a hand lifts only to find the others knuckles and give them the lightest, callused touch like a silent bid of thanks. ]
Really wish we could just jump to the vacation bit, huh.
[ there's an echo of those machines he's seen flashing through mordalion's thoughts, curiosity, quiet. a tilt of the head. ]
I'd like to learn more about your world. It sounds... fascinating. Maybe all our work scrounging for extra achievements will give us that opportunity.
They're the words of someone who believes in your success. Wisdom has nothing to do with it.
[ giving and accepting touch is something he's long become uncertain with, himself. but there are times, when he tries, with some of the younger recruits. who find some days harder than others, despite trying their best. even those he'd worked alongside for years had their moments. supporting one another was part of knighthood, too, even for a legion of shadows like they were. trying here and now wasn't much different. sometimes it was just what people need.
so he leaves his arm resting there, though its hold becomes more gentle at that brief touch. leaning just slightly, as if to encourage a mutual support, though the intention is to accept the way he feels artemy sink into his side a little. that curiosity, a good sign, and he breathes out a huff of agreement. ]
Cray is a busy place, but even then has some quiet spaces for a break. Well-earned. One more thing to hope, I suppose.
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timeasmymeasure
w7 wednesday night
Date: 2025-07-25 01:09 pm (UTC)whatever let's go for a walk... somewhere... ]
What happened to the crocosmia I gave you?
Re: w7 wednesday night
Date: 2025-07-25 01:45 pm (UTC)[ 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.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 01:56 pm (UTC)Dedicated, aren't you? [ and good thing you weren't gone long. ] They're fairy hardy, I'm sure it's fine. The plants in the gardens develop and bloom much faster than normal, but I wasn't sure if it would be the same in a pot.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 02:16 pm (UTC)[ mord... if only something were strong enough to give him at least a bit of a buzz.
he'd hardly be the kind to say aloud if he needed the help with his leg, though thanks to emoshare, there's a gradual twinge on occasion with steeper leverage. the overall vibes are that he likes the walk and the company and that he's felt worse, but a phantom pain is a phantom pain, a dull, tingling stinging between dancing with kate and spending much of it stood on his feet. the cost of partying not once, but twice in short succession (and maybe having the entire thing ripped out.) ]
They're not unlike kids themselves - each of them's different, requiring different things. [ he offers a soft, warm smile. ] Potted means I can at least bring it back to the Eudora 'til I'm done with work at home. Wouldn't want it to be harmed by my neglect if the worst happens.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 03:06 pm (UTC)[ priceless coming from the guy with a nonexistent filter, but whatever. even though the vibes are mostly positive, maybe they should find a place to rest soon enough, or turn back for something more comfortable than a forestside bench. the smile does earn just the faintest one in return - a rare sight indeed. ]
You're still able to access the Eudora from your home? That seems useful.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 03:26 pm (UTC)Can't help but be a little realistic. The goal isn't to make this my seventeenth death by any means...
[ i'm sure a bench or a nicely-placed log exists somewhere around here. he won't complain about finding one or not. the company overpowers the pain that's been pretty consistent for well over sixteen months at this point. ]
Mm, the I.R.I.S. is a piece of technology that allows us to move from our world back to the ship, like one great hub. We can move between each other's worlds as well with it... that ship went through hell and gave us a gift for all of it, truly.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 03:33 pm (UTC)[ made of incredibly strong stuff, aren't you. through this pain, too - they can keep walking for a while, since the environment is nice, but he'll keep an eye out for a nice place to stop. ]
Out of all the places we've been able to visit, I liked that ship the best. That's a very useful gift... gratitude of a high quality.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 04:24 pm (UTC)First it was the original crew we knew as the first eight abducted, then once it had killed or driven them off, it took over our minds, started in on the dozens of "new recruits" it'd abducted again. The ones you see here now - Rosamund, Ichiban, Mizuki... once we'd managed to evict the disease from the ship for good, she'd transformed for us, clean and new.
[ and while he'd love to gloss over his deaths i will give you Lore for the road since we can memshare this week. as he slowly finds a seat here, a soft wind picks up and with it, a play of a man who won't give up. ]
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 04:56 pm (UTC)[ it's a relief to hear, somehow. that the ship would be a comfort for those who had helped her. a kinder ending than many he'd heard from others.
but they draw to a stop and. well. eats this lore (me, aaya). mordalion on the other hand witnesses it with his ears dropping low and a steely anger behind his eyes. ]
...you've had to bear more than enough without suffering the actions of yet another manipulator.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 05:23 pm (UTC)Shiro was the one who was most connected to the AI, but he's always been very close with the vastness of space and its various machines - he piloted an enormous mechanized lion, Black. Protected the universe with several others working with him closely.
[ tipping his head upwards ]
For all the grief being in space gave me, it's an experience I don't think I'd wish to forget for all the terror it's filled me with.
[ and as that memory takes hold, artemy finds himself growing quiet, sat with his hands held fast in his lap and his face turned towards the wind, eyes closed. it isn't the first time he's had to relive the barrage of emotion and futility and pain, but as it dies down, he seems to slump a little, breaths slow and steady. it's what he has to return to, it's a prison that he's almost finished digging his way out of. ]
... it will be done soon enough. No matter how many tries it takes... but I'd like to avoid dying that one, last time. I like who I've become. I've no intention of letting another understudy or actor take my place, mess with my "interpretation" of my own life.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-25 06:00 pm (UTC)instead his thoughts and emotions shift to something still subtle, but complex. the terror of the unknown... so different from how it had struck them in key nueve, an experience that despite his friendship with hulkenberg and strohl, he would have been willing to forget before arriving here. now, he's not as certain.
with a measured motion, mordalion takes a seat beside him, close enough that their shoulders brush. he's terrible at comfort, but a presence can sometimes be enough. an arm slowly lifts to curl around artemy's shoulders, held steady. ]
...your gut feeling. Move it to your heart and hold it there. "Hope" can serve as a shield as well as a scalpel, if given a chance. Death won't touch that, at least not yet.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-26 07:27 am (UTC)Such wise words... I'll have to carry them with me alongside that hope too...
[ he gazes downwards, legs stretching out before him a bit to cross at the ankle. a hand lifts only to find the others knuckles and give them the lightest, callused touch like a silent bid of thanks. ]
Really wish we could just jump to the vacation bit, huh.
[ there's an echo of those machines he's seen flashing through mordalion's thoughts, curiosity, quiet. a tilt of the head. ]
I'd like to learn more about your world. It sounds... fascinating. Maybe all our work scrounging for extra achievements will give us that opportunity.
no subject
Date: 2025-07-26 12:42 pm (UTC)[ giving and accepting touch is something he's long become uncertain with, himself. but there are times, when he tries, with some of the younger recruits. who find some days harder than others, despite trying their best. even those he'd worked alongside for years had their moments. supporting one another was part of knighthood, too, even for a legion of shadows like they were. trying here and now wasn't much different. sometimes it was just what people need.
so he leaves his arm resting there, though its hold becomes more gentle at that brief touch. leaning just slightly, as if to encourage a mutual support, though the intention is to accept the way he feels artemy sink into his side a little. that curiosity, a good sign, and he breathes out a huff of agreement. ]
Cray is a busy place, but even then has some quiet spaces for a break. Well-earned. One more thing to hope, I suppose.