[He enters the ship with the soft click of heels and a tight fear in his chest. The messages are still fresh in his mind and they lurk in every step forward they take. He prays he won't see Felix. Hopes this trip is silent but knows it will only be tense, suffocating him the moment he steps onto the bridge.
Every fiber in his being is telling him he shouldn't be here. There were other ways to get what he needed done. Other ships, other pilots. Maybe it was trust that moved him forward. Despite their arguments, their actions, they still existed on a basic plane of understanding. They had both seen the same things. That meant something.
But it doesn't keep it from feeling like a trap when the bridge door slips shut. He stands by it, one hand gripping at his stomach while the other remains folded behind him. Silently, he stares at Oren's back. Fear keeps him at bay, preventing the desire to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He was in the right here. It's something he has to repeat to himself.
[It was already the ninth, and still no word from Mattias. An uncomfortably sick feeling has been twisting and growing in his stomach since their argument, and the time from his drunken calls to now has only made it worse. Mattias has vanished, completely. No answer, no sign of him in any of the casinos or bars he'd happened to wander past. Not in the shops, on the streets, not in his room where he should be.
The hotels he'd visited gave no luck. He was looking in all the wrong places, and he felt more sickened by it every day. He blamed Mattias for this. For whatever was eating at him. The dropping sensation of his stomach, the tense, constant nausea, the flares of anger, the bouts of sadness. It was all Mattias' fault.
But he hears his voice, and the composure that he clings to is a shell of what it usually is. Surprise is written across his face, and the anger that fills his eyes isn't the same as usual.
It reflects the deep concern that's been slowly building in him.
All at once, that sick feeling is ten times stronger, and he's torn between turning him away or hitting him or-- or something a little too fond, he thinks. His eyes dart, searching his face for an answer as he takes just one step closer.]
[One step closer and he wants to back away but the door behind him hits him like a cage. His throat goes tight, his hands twist further into the fabric, yet still he steels himself. Stands a bit straighter when he answers, though his voice is still as weak as before.]
The station. I—I rented a room there. It's small. Nothing impressive. I needed... I needed to get away.
[For a long time, he just watches Mattias. Lets him fidget under his gaze as his own thoughts try to straighten themselves. It's not working, and that just makes him more frustrated. He doesn't understand his own concern, his own feelings.]
And was it such a trial to say that ahead of time?
[That's a little softer, but the impact is clear. He makes it sound like it would have been easy. Like he wouldn't have countered it with reasons not to. He turns his back to Mattias, arms folding across his chest.]
Save your apologies for the ones you do care for worrying.
[These are all of the wrong things to bring up. He penalizes Mattias for each one. Mentioning the last discussion not going well. Which did he mean? His attempts so coldly rejected or the arguments that he's being blamed for? As if Mattias hasn't done wrong himself.
He was selfish, and so Oren doesn't correct him. He lets it sink into silence as the mistakes continue coming from Mattias' mouth. Concerned? Oh, now he was concerned?]
The speed of your response doesn't speak for concern.
[He pauses, and after some intense glaring at the floor, finally looks back at Mattias from this half-turned away pose.]
I'm fine. [But from the short, curt way he says it, that's doubtful.] Why did you come here now?
[He doesn't say it, but the implications are bleeding through. An apology doesn't take nine days. He wasn't thinking about Oren. This must be something selfish. A need, a desire, a want. Be it for forgiveness or a task-- there must be something there for himself.]
[He wilts, back sagging against the door. His eyes are downcast, never once able to meet Oren's. Where did his courage go? The empowerment? Oren could break it all as if it were straw.]
I... I had a proposition. It's something I'd need your help for. Something mutually beneficial.
[His gaze raises just a bit.] It might help us get back home.
[His arms drop to his sides, but he doesn't turn back immediately. So he did need help. Funny that he'd show up and claim it mutually beneficial after breaking the news that he's dead.
He does aim to prevent that, but it's a heavy weight on thoughts of return and duties right now.
[there's kind of a thud and a couple of footsteps.]
I'm not gonna lie, I'm kind of fucked up right now, but I just won like two-hundred credits so let's go have some fancy lunch or some shit. I can't find Tek and no one else is interesting enough to sit around with for like three hours and just talk or whatever.
[Oh, now this is a pleasant surprise. After days of feeling lonely, he's called by Robin! Not just Robin, but a very drunk Robin looking for company. He only takes ten to fifteen minutes to call him back, and most of that time is waiting so he doesn't look too eager.]
My, I do hope you've survived in the time between your message and now. Was that a fall I heard? [Teasing, teasing... He sounds in a fair mood, at least.]
Where shall we meet, my friend? I've just finished work so your timing is perfect.
Ooooh! [he goes from sounding confused to thrilled over the course of the syllable. he may be well-guarded pleasantries most of the time, but right now? not a care in the world.] Hey, that's not true. I slid. Onto the floor.
[totally different.] Yeah, do you know where there's the statue of the big guy with the bow and arrow and shit? By that one. I can get to that one. Let's meet there.
[Oh, because sliding makes it any better. He laughs. This is going to be a welcome outing.]
I do happen to know the statue you speak of. Imagine that. [Hopefully there aren't any other statues like that one. But with such a description, how could he get lost?]
I'll head there now. Do try to make it without sliding onto the floor again.
[He laughs a little at his own words, and there's the distant sounds of chatter fade as he exits his bar.
It takes about ten minutes or so for him to get to the statue, and he's a little amazed he remembered where to find it so fast. (Perhaps it was some of the stores surrounding it that aided him in that.) He's still in his bartending uniform, but he's sitting on the shelf surrounding the statue, legs crossed casually as he leans back.]
[his only response is a delighted giggle as he, too, leaves to find this statue that he only-mostly remembers existing.
Oren is definitely going to be there first. Robin approaches after five, ten minutes--looking very good and well-dressed, as usual, but definitely walking with that sort of casual grace that could quickly and suddenly tip over into clumsiness at any second.]
Oreeen. [he walks up to him, right into a hug. regardless of whether or not he was ready for it. sorry, man.] You're here! This is great. I was worried I wasn't going to find this because of the way that the carpets go... In the other hall...
[He's not quite ready for it, no, but he's quick to react. He wraps an arm around him into that hug, patting once or twice before he his palm smooths down to about waist-height.]
It's good you've managed then. [He's half expecting Robin to be leaning on him at any point, after watching that walk, so he stays put, shifting just enough so he can peer up at his face.]
Is this the usual for you? A party animal? At the very least, you could have saved the drinking for my company. Don't tell me you've been alone?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
forward-dated to may 9th
Every fiber in his being is telling him he shouldn't be here. There were other ways to get what he needed done. Other ships, other pilots. Maybe it was trust that moved him forward. Despite their arguments, their actions, they still existed on a basic plane of understanding. They had both seen the same things. That meant something.
But it doesn't keep it from feeling like a trap when the bridge door slips shut. He stands by it, one hand gripping at his stomach while the other remains folded behind him. Silently, he stares at Oren's back. Fear keeps him at bay, preventing the desire to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He was in the right here. It's something he has to repeat to himself.
When he finally speaks, it's softly.]
Oren?
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The hotels he'd visited gave no luck. He was looking in all the wrong places, and he felt more sickened by it every day. He blamed Mattias for this. For whatever was eating at him. The dropping sensation of his stomach, the tense, constant nausea, the flares of anger, the bouts of sadness. It was all Mattias' fault.
But he hears his voice, and the composure that he clings to is a shell of what it usually is. Surprise is written across his face, and the anger that fills his eyes isn't the same as usual.
It reflects the deep concern that's been slowly building in him.
All at once, that sick feeling is ten times stronger, and he's torn between turning him away or hitting him or-- or something a little too fond, he thinks. His eyes dart, searching his face for an answer as he takes just one step closer.]
Where have you been?
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The station. I—I rented a room there. It's small. Nothing impressive. I needed... I needed to get away.
[A beat.] ... I'm sorry.
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And was it such a trial to say that ahead of time?
[That's a little softer, but the impact is clear. He makes it sound like it would have been easy. Like he wouldn't have countered it with reasons not to. He turns his back to Mattias, arms folding across his chest.]
Save your apologies for the ones you do care for worrying.
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[Didn't go so well. His lips thin and part of him dies when Oren turns his back to him. Was he'd done been so bad?]
I didn't mean to worry you. I just thought—I didn't want anyone to contact me. I just wanted to be alone. It was—it was selfish.
[Oren might have been drunk when he had said it but that didn't make it any less right. He looks up sharply, concern seeping from his very being.]
Have you been well? Your call... it made me [frightened, angered] concerned.
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He was selfish, and so Oren doesn't correct him. He lets it sink into silence as the mistakes continue coming from Mattias' mouth. Concerned? Oh, now he was concerned?]
The speed of your response doesn't speak for concern.
[He pauses, and after some intense glaring at the floor, finally looks back at Mattias from this half-turned away pose.]
I'm fine. [But from the short, curt way he says it, that's doubtful.] Why did you come here now?
[He doesn't say it, but the implications are bleeding through. An apology doesn't take nine days. He wasn't thinking about Oren. This must be something selfish. A need, a desire, a want. Be it for forgiveness or a task-- there must be something there for himself.]
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I... I had a proposition. It's something I'd need your help for. Something mutually beneficial.
[His gaze raises just a bit.] It might help us get back home.
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[His arms drop to his sides, but he doesn't turn back immediately. So he did need help. Funny that he'd show up and claim it mutually beneficial after breaking the news that he's dead.
He does aim to prevent that, but it's a heavy weight on thoughts of return and duties right now.
Frowning, he turns back to Mattias.]
What is it?
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I'm cracking up at this he's gonna get like beat up by burning aliens
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audio;
[there's kind of a thud and a couple of footsteps.]
I'm not gonna lie, I'm kind of fucked up right now, but I just won like two-hundred credits so let's go have some fancy lunch or some shit. I can't find Tek and no one else is interesting enough to sit around with for like three hours and just talk or whatever.
Anyway, call me baaaaack at some point. Okay.
audio;
My, I do hope you've survived in the time between your message and now. Was that a fall I heard? [Teasing, teasing... He sounds in a fair mood, at least.]
Where shall we meet, my friend? I've just finished work so your timing is perfect.
audio;
[totally different.] Yeah, do you know where there's the statue of the big guy with the bow and arrow and shit? By that one. I can get to that one. Let's meet there.
audio;
I do happen to know the statue you speak of. Imagine that. [Hopefully there aren't any other statues like that one. But with such a description, how could he get lost?]
I'll head there now. Do try to make it without sliding onto the floor again.
audio;
[said partly into his arm... but there's the sound of someone dragging their drunk ass up a wall and starting to walk out of their ship.]
Ugh, the things I do for you. I gotta put on my not-drunk face.
audio; -> action;
[He laughs a little at his own words, and there's the distant sounds of chatter fade as he exits his bar.
It takes about ten minutes or so for him to get to the statue, and he's a little amazed he remembered where to find it so fast. (Perhaps it was some of the stores surrounding it that aided him in that.) He's still in his bartending uniform, but he's sitting on the shelf surrounding the statue, legs crossed casually as he leans back.]
action all the way
Oren is definitely going to be there first. Robin approaches after five, ten minutes--looking very good and well-dressed, as usual, but definitely walking with that sort of casual grace that could quickly and suddenly tip over into clumsiness at any second.]
Oreeen. [he walks up to him, right into a hug. regardless of whether or not he was ready for it. sorry, man.] You're here! This is great. I was worried I wasn't going to find this because of the way that the carpets go... In the other hall...
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It's good you've managed then. [He's half expecting Robin to be leaning on him at any point, after watching that walk, so he stays put, shifting just enough so he can peer up at his face.]
Is this the usual for you? A party animal? At the very least, you could have saved the drinking for my company. Don't tell me you've been alone?
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sneaks this in before bed oh yes
yesssssssssss good....
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text
What is it they say? "Wish you were here"? Gathering plants for your serum. Wish me luck!
text
gud luk! sho me more pics that looks impressive
1/2
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It looks like an old man's beard!
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You and your continued pictures. It's so odd looking! What does it feel like?
1/3??
2/2 i lied
Looks like melted cheese, doesn't it? Delicious!
[attached: mmm2.jpg]
What it looks like from far away. Less delicious.
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You must be ecstatic. Are there beautiful sights, as well?
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Yes, the sights are wonderful. But look at this!
[attached: beautiful.jpg]
Gorgeous, isn't it? I believe it's a fungus of some sort? Look at that color! Spectacular.
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