fleetlogs | => PHERES: Abscond.

=> PHERES: Abscond.

=> FLEETBOUND POST. [refiningSpacetime - FIN]
=> MARDUK: Call your guide. [FIN]
=> RICCIN: Retrieve the damsel in distress. [FIN]
=> HINNOM: Lead him home. [FIN]
=> FLEETBOUND POST. [activatingAggro- FIN]
=> SIPARA: Fetch your dumb moirail. [FIN]
=> PHERES: Wake up. [FIN]

SUMMARY: Taking drinks from strangers is generally a bad idea. Pheres needs to be picked up from a party, but life is hard when your moirail is out of town and all of your friends are terrible. Luckily, there's always Fleetbound!

WARNINGS: None! Except for Pheres being thoroughly depressing in Lead him home.

THIS HAS BEEN FINALLY EDITED. For like the third time. Due to POV-switching shenanigans, you may occasionally encounter weird shifts / incorrect verb pluralisation at points that I missed in switching from 3rd person to 2nd person POV. Sorry! :c

For the most part, though, typoes should be fixed and continuity is now more accurate!

ALSO: Follow the story through the links above to ensure you're reading the correct, edited threads, please and thank youu

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hinnom's having a conversation with the air. If you focus, you can almost imagine you can hear something responding - but that's silly. The little grub's crazy, and it's probably starting to rub off.

None-the-less, the conversation must have served its purpose, because after a moment, they jam the heat-recognition button, and the door snaps open to reveal Sipara and Marduk.

"Pheres, you fetid little fishhead," Sipara snaps, as soon as she sees you, and she steps in close like she's going to grab you. Instead, she cracks you across the face with the back of her hand. It's a hard hit, knuckles crooked to bruise, hard enough to make you stumble and the room spin.

It tastes like there's blood in your mouth, and you touch it gingerly - or maybe that's just the sour tang of shame, because Sipara looks like she's ready to burst from exhaustion and fury and the sheer relief of seeing you alive.

"Are you feral? Do you think this is just, like, what people do - get wasted as a fucking bubbleblower and take off into the day? Because it's not! I'm going to break both your walkstubs and tie you to your stupid motorcart, if you ever, ever do this again --"

"Um," Marduk says. She's staring at the ceiling like she's praying it'll descend and rescue her from witnessing this torrid pale spat, and right now, you can't blame her.

You gingerly touch your face, but there's no blood on the skin or on your lips, thank heavens. If you have a bruise later, you'll throttle her. "Shoosh!" You pap her on the head, and then, on second thought, you grab her hands, claws digging in to keep her from pulling away. "Shoosh, you big baby," you tell her sternly. "I'm not dead! I'm perfectly fine, and if you do that again, I'll bite off your hand."

It's a hollow threat, but the way Pheres is staring at you, eyebrows down and disapproving like you're a barkbeast that just shit the bed forces you to calm down. That, and the way he's holding your hands hurts. Your clawtips are basically nubs, constantly worn or broken off through frequent use, but his are long, pointy strips of polished lacquer that he keeps filed sharp, and they're digging right into your flesh, tip-first.

You huff through your nose, trying to pull away, but his grasp is firm. "Sorry," you acquiesce. Marduk's lusus pushes past you, and you shift, but pay it no mind. "No hitting. I'm a stupid bulgemunch. Sorry."

He does look fine, and that's a relief. Riccin wasn't lying: there's no bruises on his face, save for the slight darkness where your hand struck, and his clothes are sopor-green and damp, like he slept in them, but it doesn't look like he was rough-handled at all.

The ball of tension in your chest unwinds, a little.

"I'm still going to tie you to the fucking truck if you ever do this again, though." Pheres is alright, and now that you know that - you can see it - exhaustion is starting to set in. You are so tired. You drove all through the day, and you fought a fucking zombie, and all you want to do is go to bed.

Edited 2014-12-08 15:27 (UTC)

Marduk's lusus is adorable and you love it and you want ten of them. It shoved past the rustblood and went straight to you, eyes on the jerky in your hand.

"Mrph," it tells you, fixing you with its big, sad eyes as it licks its lips, and how are you supposed to say no to that? The grateful way the little scaled meowbeast scarfs down the meat and licks your hand afterwards is worth it.

You love it so much.

"I think he loves me the best," you tell Marduk and Castor, but they're both ignoring you in favor of gawking at the palespat over in the corner. Castor's smirking, but Marduk just looks incredibly awkward: her eyes keep drifting up towards the ceiling whenever she thinks anyone is looking, but she's watching just as much as Castor. Weird. It's not that funny.

"You do love me the best, don't you?" Marduk's lusus purrs at you and butts its head aganist your hand, and oh, you have got to find more food in here.

What do lusii eat? Your isopod colony is just about ready to harvest...

Edited 2014-12-08 15:29 (UTC)

Sipara and Pheres are apparently through with their little spat, much to your relief. You've never seen a moirail slap their palepartner before: on the telly, they're always kind to each other, often to the point of being simpering. Is this sort of behaviour normal?

(You hope it's normal, because you have no idea what you're supposed to do, if it's not.)

The leash tugs in your fronds, and you turn to find Hinnom is kneeling on the ground, feeding a piece of jerky to your lusus. Maybe it is normal, if ze didn't even notice. "Hinnom," you say politely, "this is Sipara. ActivatingAggro on the forums? She's Pheres's moirail."

"Yeah, remember, the one you called lame as fu-"

Pheres's claws dig into your palm, and you pout. It's true: helped him or not, you haven't forgotten the fact they jumped you when you warned them away from OA. Inappropriately pale, what a fucking load of shit. Little blighter.

Whatever. They're - no, wait, shit, ze's over there chilling with Marduk's lusus, trying to feed it tidbits from zir hand, and they didn't even hear your little spiel. You clear your throat until they look up, and then you smile, toothily, and try again. "Nice to meet you, kiddo. You got any wake-up beans down here?"

You want to sleep, but you can't, not until you get back to the surface. You hope that ze has coffee: if he doesn't, you might sleep on zir floor instead.

Oh. Sipara's asking you something.

"Nope!" You're not even sure what wake-up beans are, to be honest. "Sorry, boo. You can crash here, though!"

You say it casually, but the idea is exciting. Trolls sleeping over is a thing that people do: you've seen it, when you watch the telly with Marduk, although she's always refused to stay over at your hive before. It seems fun!

(Real, living people in your hive at all has been fun. AA is still a downer, but if she's here, then that means Pheres'll be here, and maybe Marduk, too, and that's worth it.)

"If you want," you add, peering at them hopefully. "Like, I got feed and sopor and all sorts of stuff down here. It's cool."

You are not especially keen on staying down here. You've already been here for.. what, six, seven hours, sleeping in the stale sopor dreamlessly, and you've already occidentally fondled enough artifacts of the dead to last you a lifetime.

But you can see the way Sipara's swaying on her feet, and even if your face is still stinging, you're not in a quadrant where the idea of her driving off the side of the road is appealing. She could use the rest.

So you answer for her. "That would be excellent," you say, beaming at Hinnom, and the grub grins back, clearly pleased. "I need to make some apologies.. and Sipara could use the sleep."

You loosen your grip on her hands, and start tugging her towards the stairwell, ducking your horns pre-emptively. You're not about to make that mistake again. "It'll do wonders for your temperment," you tell her, and you're not joking. If she's wound up enough to actually hit you, then that means she needs to sleep, stale sopor or not.

Oh. Wait. You have no issues making decisions for Sipara - she's always doing it for you, after all. But Marduk is another matter. You hesitate, peering back over your shoulder. "Ah.. unless - Marduk, do you need to get back somewhere? I can escort you, if you want."

Edited 2014-12-08 15:38 (UTC)

It looks like everyone is getting ready to settle in for the night.

Sappho said she'd cover for you, didn't she? Although you don't believe this was the situation she was anticipating. (In fact - it strikes you she had entirely different beliefs about you and Sipara. Well. That's a thoroughly unappealing thought, and one you'll have to clear up as soon as you get hive.)

(It's the dry period, though, and your instructors always get tired this time of year, when the humidity is low and the sun is hot. All of your classes are scheduled late in the night, to give them the most time to sleep submerged, and it's early yet.)

"I'll stay," you decide. "I will go up when the two of you do. A larger group should make for a safer journey, should it not?"

"And besides..." You remove your husktop from your sylladex, and move to follow them up the stairs. "I have some apologies of my own to put forth."

Edited 2014-12-08 15:41 (UTC)

=> PHERES: Abscond.

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[FIIIIIIIIN \o/]