EVENT: BIA ▒ STERN

[ataraxites]

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: The stern areas of the ship
WARNINGS: Disturbing imagery, violence, psychological trauma, gore, etc.
SUMMARY: Characters have to fight to find their way back to each other from being increasingly isolated and plagued by their deepest fears and most hopeful dreams.
NOTES: May 27 onwards.

An echoing boom comes from deep in the middle of the ship, shakes its way through the trees and waters of the Oxygen Gardens, down into the maze of walkways and mechanics that make up the Engineering Complex. A sense of danger rolls through with it, enough to make you pause in your work, set down tools or supplies, ignore the thrumming pain in your head to find out what. Trapped far away from the comforts of beds and kitchens and slow approaching necessity of gravcouches, you only have each other to turn to. But soon that grows difficult, turnings leading you off path, door slamming shut behind you. In the increasing isolation panic swells like an infection up through your mind-- but then soothes. You find your way into an unexpected comfort, the company of a long-gone friend, an old home filled with happy memories. You linger, drift into contentment, and yet it still can't calm one deep nagging doubt: you aren't safe where you've found yourself.

Comments

fear!

[muscovy]

[Cold. It is cold. It's as cold as it only becomes in the worst winters and he doesn't like it one bit.

He's not sure why - it wasn't cold a minute ago, and he is almost certain that it isn't cold behind him, but... but. There is laughter behind that corner that sounds terrible, truly terrible, and while that should be just another reason to retreat, he also came down this corridor with a purpose, to find someone, and what if that person is behind the corner and in trouble... he may not be strong, but he can be of help with the cold, now. And maybe that will help. He won't let someone die if he can help it.

His fingers tighten around one of the toy soldiers in his pocket before he pokes his head around the corner to see what is going on there.]

[inafadingcrown]

[Muscovy goes unnoticed, the two figures before him being intent on one another, at least for the moment.

Morgoth's laugh ends abruptly and he begins to speak with a voice deep as it is rich.]

Artanis. Lesser child of great forbears. Do you truly believe that you will succeed where Fingolfin failed? Finwë himself fell by my hand. Do you think you will meet another fate? Arrogant child. You have learned nothing.

[Galadriel stands firm, though it is not terribly difficult to see her fear- the way her face has turned pale white speaks volumes.]

I will do what I must. [But dying isn't her number one plan- which is why she's also glancing around, looking for something to inspire something clever and trying to think past the fear. And that's when she spots Muscovy.]

Flee while you can. [The thought is swiftly aimed in his direction, strong and protective.]

[muscovy]

[His breath hitches at the sudden thought in his mind, automatically raising both hands to shield himself as if it was a physical blow... which sets him off balance and makes him take a stumbling step to the side, which in turn makes him fall and land flat on his belly with a cry of surprise and a bit of pain.

He stares at the two adults that are now in plain view of him with wide eyes for a moment before scrambling back behind his corner, pressing his back against the wall and listening desperately for what else will happen with Galadriel and the weird man that must be from her world-

...he knows who it is. Maglor's stories were descriptive enough.

And that is what makes him dig through his pockets for his fire soldiers because in the greater picture, he needs Galadriel and Galadriel is his friend (he'd not have thought of it like that before, but now he does because really, that is how it is, isn't it?) and even though she can be scary there are people who are scarier. Not many, certainly, but...

No. She needs to get away from here.]

[inafadingcrown]

[In that brief moment, they both spotted Muscovy and, as alarm crosses over Galadriel's face, Morgoth's smile takes a cruel twist.]

Reinforcements, Artanis? I did not think you the sort to call upon children.

Go. [Galadriel urges Muscovy again. But aloud she simply says:] The child is not your concern. Leave him be.

[muscovy]

[His hands wrap around the toy soldiers in his pockets. They will be much less helpful than they would have been before, having shrunk down so much from their original size, but they are still much better than nothing and have strength as well as (hopefully) a strong element of surprise.

Both Elf and nightmare will see a group of tiny, 30 cm high, humanoid shapes of fire burst around the corner and storm past Galadriel, forming a low fence of fire between her and the nightmare when they stop, swords out. Muscovy is on their heels, reaching out for the Elven woman as soon as he gets to her, sleeve or hand, whichever he can get to, to pull her away from the man who is threatening her.]

You should run, yes?

[inafadingcrown]

[Galadriel's eyes widen in shock. The distraction is unexpected, but she's not about to waste an opportunity; she's already turning to re-position herself when Muscovy grabs her sleeve- not to flee, but to gain better ground.

But his touch and his words change things. At the very least, she has to get him out of here. Sacrificing herself is one thing, but she won't allow another to fall because of her negligence. Not again. Not like-

That's right. This was an utter impossibility.

The fact occurs to her an a rush- in the same instant she scoops Muscovy into her arms and makes a dash for the nearest bend in the corridor. It's as she does so that the whole scene flickers, becoming somehow less real for a moment.]

[muscovy]

[He lets himself be scooped up, clinging to her shoulders for support as she turns to run, and looks over her shoulder as he does so to attempt and see what is happening.

That is why he catches the odd sensation of this is not real, though he cannot place it. Something about this, though he can't tell what, is incredibly off.]

I think he can make pictures in our minds.

[He's witnessed that before, though it didn't feel or look quite like this. But different people can do the same thing in different ways. And if he can do that... then they cannot know what is real, and will maybe run into a wall because they think that there is a corridor there, and that would be dangerous.

A part of the little soldiers in the meanwhile keep attacking Morgoth, swinging their little flame swords through the air and at him, while the other half follows Galadriel to shield her retreat.]

[inafadingcrown]

Or he is one himself. [She says with sudden clarity.] A trick of the ship.

[She peers around the corner, checking to see that Morgoth is still occupied with the little soldiers, and sets Muscovy on the ground.] If this does not work, you must run ahead, regardless of whether I am able to.

[And with that, she tries to concentrate again, to get back to that moment of realization that this could not be the true Morgoth.

He had been here before and the ship had lessened his powers, just as it had hers. And that is how she was able to play a part in his death. He had not arrived again in the jump. She knows he did not.

Which is why he cannot be real.]

[muscovy]

[He wants to reply that no, he won't run until she does too (unless she is dead, that is, then there would be no reason to stay). But she is concentrating before he can, and so he waits, eyes flitting forth and back between her and Morgoth and his soldiers.

He wants to ask what she is doing, how he could be a trick of the ship - an illusion? But he ...looking at his soldiers battling the terrifying figure, he doesn't look unreal at all. Still, if Galadriel is sure - if she is sure, she is probably right. And then things are that way and he isn't real. But he is still terrifying, and even illusions can hurt you if they are this physically there, so he doesn't call his soldiers back and stays ready to run.]