ataraxionlogs | come break me down

Entry tags:

come break me down

CHARACTERS: evil husbands + third wheel (mairon, melkor, am)
LOCATION: 018 » 001
WARNINGS: m for m&m. am is a separate warning on his own.
SUMMARY: certain gifts have been received. they're not enjoyed. and then am.
NOTES: several hours after the jump

He is, quite possibly, in distress.

At least, he thinks this is what distress feels like. It isn't much different from when Melkor had been thrown into the Void. The feeling of not understanding, not knowing what to do, or where to go.

Mairon paces the room, agitated and bristling like a wolf on edge, watched by one nervous wyrmling. A sliver of his fea lashes out, involuntarily reaching to find the one creature on this ship he might possibly have any substantial amount of trust in. And just as quickly he pulls it back in, buries it away deep inside. He needs to calm down, he knows. There could be perfectly logical explanations for this. But he has been here hours, pacing, fuming, and he has found no explanations.

He drifts over to the bureau at the foot of his bed, where a shriveled finger and 15 rings glint dully in the dim light, and opens the velvet jewelry box with numbed fingers to show the gold band resting inside it. A quick visit to the forge proved it genuine, revealed the inscription he had carved into its being. How clearly he remembers it-- the heat of the heart of Orodruin, liquid bubbling rock. The weight of it in his hand, the minds he had influenced with it.

Even when he slips it onto his finger again, cool and smooth, he feels nothing. Not a single speck of the power he had put inside. It makes him want to throw it aside, against a wall, away, at someone. But he doesn't. It stays on his hand, clenching and unclenching into a fist, lest he rouse his spirit more. The mild heat does little to help.

He paces again, slower this time, tentatively reaching out with his fea to find Melkor. A quiet, hesitant request for his presence.

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It was preemptive, calling AM over so soon after contacting Melkor. He hadn't thought confronting Melkor with this would have taken so long, or gone so intensely. He almost wants to tell AM to come back another time.

Instead he presses another hesitant kiss to Melkor's lips and pulls away from his master with some effort, sighing. He gives a small, apologetic smile, and nudges at Melkor until he's away from the door so he can open it.

"So I did. Come in, please." Tiring as that ordeal may have been, he wears his usual self-confident smile again by the time the doors are open, if a bit worn at the edges. He looks over his shoulder. "This is the man from whom I learned those encryptions I spoke of."

When he turns back to AM, the smile quirks just a fraction wider, and he steps aside to let the man outside enter.

"AM, this is Melkor. I spoke to you of him once."

A muscle jumps in Melkor's jaw; irritation. But he leans into the silent kiss, and flows away from the door, walking further into the small room. As he passes it, he plucks up the gleaming memento from where he'd placed it on the bed; pocketing it invisibly while the door is opened behind him.

He only looks over his shoulder at the introduction, eyes narrowed, broad shoulders set. Though his hair is short and he looks neatly modern and very clean, matched to the modernity of the jumpsuit he wears, there is... an utterly feral look to him. His eyes gleam in the room's relatively low light, landing harshly upon AM- one predator assessing another across invisible boundaries of territory.

His fea lashed out, rubbing harshly along the edges of this alien presence, trying to discern the nature of this stranger. And somehow, the 'once' blackens his already grim mood.

"AM."

It will suffice as a greeting, but there is a snarling hauteur to it.

AM steps inside the room when instructed to do so, and immediately notes the presence of the other man. Taller, larger, completely menacing. It's easy to discern his nature right away. Humans are easy to read, and Melkor makes little effort to hide the snarl behind his voice, the grimness behind his gaze.

"Melkor," he greets back, a bit flatly.

He vaguely remembers the man being mentioned from Mairon's memories. Sacrifices to a powerful false god of sorts, or something along those lines. So Melkor is the one in charge then.

There's a fixed look between the two of them - tall, middle-aged men, neither one truly human, both hiding immense power... and both carrying the capacity and desire for destruction. Not that AM knows that directly, but there's a sort of angry fear and rivalry he feels. The man is watching him - a powerful man who is a god to many (another similarity then).

Keeping his eyes on Melkor, AM speaks to Mairon, a bit calmer, a bit more cautious. "What is it you wished to speak to me about, Mairon?"

"Play nicely, now." It's a humorous tone. He goes around back to readjust the lighting in the room, conveniently placing himself between AM and the way out. And not intending to move from there just yet.

"I wanted to ask if you and I could have another barter," he says smoothly, as if unaffected by their little posturing game. No different from when he and AM had spoken before. "Your knowledge on things here and there, instructing my associate on the use of encryptions. For a favor of your choosing, in exchange. But of similar value, of course."

You and I, specifically. He'd never intended for Melkor to have part in the payment, but seeing AM's reaction to him now, it'd likely be best if he wasn't.

Mairon's head tips, considering something. "Perhaps you might like to join in our alliance as well. It may cater to your.. interests."

At the similarly flat greeting, his wolfish smile winks out, baring a canine and many of his other white teeth. Whatever he has seen in AM has allayed some of the pent aggression, and he prowls to sit on the edge of the be, neatly crossing one ankle over the opposite leg, letting his elbows rest on his knees while he listens with suddenly sharpened interest.

Mairon has taken the lead, here; and Melkor is confident enough to let him keep it, instead giving the other two space, watching and assessing all that happens with keen and predatory attention.

"I doubt you need to explain the concept of fair trade to him, Mairon," he says quietly when he does interrupt. His eyes gleam, bright and hard as a knifeblade bared in the dark. "And while I can appreciate your care, in this..."

He turned then to AM. "Forget the comm networks and their use between passengers. I could care less about them. The ultimate prize is The Ship, and I mean to attempt a direct interface with it, or if that's a goal best left to long-term efforts, to dredge up and restore its original records and spearhead an effort to retake many of its primary functions." His dark eyes fell on the other man, knowingly.

"At present, The Ship is a prison. But I am not unconvinced that it cannot be made... a tool."

So Mairon is to bring this man in on their temporary "alliance." Of course AM doesn't trust him at all, but AM doesn't trust Mairon either. He trusts no one, and is fully prepared to dispose of them should they get in the way. (But they're powerful and that scares him, at least on a deep unconscious level - only registering at the front of his thoughts as frustration. This would prove difficult.)

Still, encryption is a simple thing, nothing drastic. Looking back at Mairon, AM is about to agree to his own terms, making an offer of what he wants, agreeing to their little "alliance," before Melkor interrupts.

His gaze snaps back toward Melkor on the bed, and he listens, feeling his inner defenses build up. The Ship is mine, he thinks, or at least that is his goal, and has been his goal ever since he came to terms with the fact that he was no longer at "home." His eyes narrow, knowing he'll have to compete for this goal. Even if they partner up now... Well, it wouldn't last, of course.

Coldly, he replies. "And what kind of a tool do you want the Ship to be?" Still, at least he's interested. Melkor is one of the first to speak his language, aside from the other AIs. This could prove useful.

It's a little hasty, he thinks, and he muffles a cluck of his tongue when AM's motion to respond is interrupted.

"We do not mean offense, if we have given any." Melkor might, but Mairon softens his tone to an apologetic note, truthful if not sincere. When he speaks again is it careful and methodical, with the gravity of an unblinking gaze. "Others may seek freedom, but we would discover how this vessel does what it has done to us and others like us; to you, and others like you. And to make use of this to our advantage."

He notes the coldness, the guarded expression and posture. Remembers enough from their brief empathy link and the interaction that followed to think that AM must be quite displeased with this indeed.

"Do you find this disagreeable?" His mouth thins into a line. "I would still week a barter, regardless. My master may care little for such things, but I would like to learn more of what you know, AM."

"Whatever kind of tool we like," answers Melkor smoothly to AM, though there's a... black sort of hunger to his expressionless face. Something that would have made the flesh crawl on any mortal creature.

His sudden thin-lipped smile is sharp enough to cut.

And he makes a small motion towards Mairon, clearly giving over the audience with AM to the one who'd called it.

Edited 2014-01-15 22:19 (UTC)

It's interesting to hear Mairon refer to Melkor as "his master." AM knew already that Mairon seems to hold the other in high regard, like a god, but now he knows specifically that he's "master." Valuable information, of course. Melkor is certainly in charge, so anything has to go by him. And so Melkor's desire for the ship will not leave AM's mind at all.

With that hideous smile, AM glares back for a moment before matching the gesture, giving a haughty smirk - fake pleasantries to a degree. I'll deal with you later.

He turns to Mairon then. "If you wish to learn more, I suppose we can arrange another deal." But what does he want in return from these two? He wants the ship ultimately and wants to remove anyone who aims to stand in the way of said goal. "But what would you have in mind for giving me?"

A servant he may be, but a lieutenant also, and certainly not one to stand by if he feels that Melkor is being threatened. So there's an edge to his smile, a bit of stiffness, after watching the brief exchange between them.

"You have my gratitude, for that." He doesn't bat an eyelash, not even when he addresses the matter of what will be exchanged. "As I said, AM; so long as it is within reason, I would leave the choosing of my payment in your hands." His head tips once more, considering again. "What would you consider to be of similar value?"

It's unfortunate AM has no lieutenant of his own - someone who would protect his back at all costs. Two against one is what this stands to be now: a completely unfavorable battle for AM, one that he could easily lose. He's not dealing with stupid humans either - these are otherworldly beings, capable of great feats. The thought terrifies him more.

He still attempts to maintain his calmness as he looks to Mairon, thinking over this little deal. Teach him more about encryptions? AM could do that. He won't teach all of his knowledge, but he could give more. In exchange.

"All right, fair enough," he says. "I suppose what I want..." His voice is a bit softer, lower, more intimate. "...Is your cooperation. Your alliance. Both of you." He glances back at Melkor briefly. "Information exchange... Freedom from any... foul play." He gives a quick smirk at that. "But of course, that should be a given, since we're friends."

Melkor's dark eyes flit between his lieutenant and AM, his own features unreadable. Closed. The glassy surface of his eyes reflects all he sees, revealing nothing.

"One long-term advantage for another. Done." He closes the bargain in lieu of Mairon, standing smoothly, strangely sinuous, as if he's jointed like a serpent. "The scope and scale of information we provide you shall be directly correlated to the amount of assistance you provide in turn." His teeth gleam when he bares them in a wolfish expression that has only a little to do with a smile.

"Let's not play pretend. It's trite. And if you should ever have need for work less sanitary... I hope you know who to turn to."

Another person might have been easily enticed by AM's approach, or a lesser one easily frightened away. Mairon is neither, and so reacts with a falsely true calm, curiosity and wariness. Where Melkor reveals nothing (to his internal dismay), what Mairon reveals is what he wishes to be observed in him

Yet even he cannot hide the flicker of something when he watches Melkor stand, the movement of his form, the way he had so many times in the past. His hand flexes, clenching over the ring in his palm in a small gesture of unsurety.

"As he says; we have an agreement." Mairon says, but remains eerily still. "And indeed, we are friends. I would ask, however, as to the manner of cooperation that you ask of us. If you have an agenda of your own, AM, I think we would both like to know of it."

A game of words. He learned his lesson the first time, when he thought swearing fealty to the Numenoreans meant he would be left alone.

The agreement is quick - too quick. He hears the rustle of fabric as Melkor moves, immediately giving consent to this arrangement. An agreement to stay allies, to exchange information in equal amounts. It's only fair, of course - AM wouldn't expect anything more from a smart tactician. With Melkor's flash of the teeth, AM tilts his head upward, giving an air of haughty indifference to that gesture. He's not going to be intimidated by the likes of his ally.

Mairon agrees as well, quickly after Melkor speaks. It seems they both have an idea of what AM truly wants - especially Mairon, seeing as he has seen AM's memories, knows what he is capable of. Knows what he delights in.

"Well good. Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours, or so they say." So many expressions in the English vernacular that had picked up from observing humans for so long. It's easy to figure out what it means.

With a smile, he gives a brief huff of amusement. "Perhaps I do have my own agenda. But so do you."

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