ataraxionlogs | EVENT: BIA ▒ STERN

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hm...?

[That it was difficult to focus would be an understatement. How long ago had Feuilly and the others seemed to disappear...? He couldn't be sure. Being with Ambrose at the time, it was almost as if he'd melted away also, and that he was in danger of melting away always, if he gave into the temptation to stare at something fuzzy perpetually at the corner of his eye.

The hand that hovered his shoulder was grounding.]

Oh, the noise. Yes.

[Coming to a bit, glancing over at him.]

I don't know. Shall we go look for it? A canon, perhaps.

Yeah, let's -- though I dunno just how big a cannon that must've been to make that sound.

[Setting his spiderplant down in a little niche to enjoy the sunlight a little longer while they explored, giving her a fond little pet before rising again, frown upon his brow.]

We shall have to find out...

[Which would lead him, with a start, to veer directly to the right side while Ambrose put down his beloved plant, rather forgetting to stay at his friend's side in the process, that he felt sure he'd heard the soul-shuddering noise follow that way...]

[Getting up, and not finding Jehan where he'd expected him to be...]

Jehan?

[Spotting him and heading over, jogging to catch up a little.]

[Again, it seemed almost to take a superhuman amount of effort to bring his attention to Ambrose's call, and to stop his tracks. There was a path up ahead he had meant to follow... somehow, the tug to go on ahead was extremely strong, however logically he knew that two years aboard had taught him not to go examine alone.

But he'd slow his step, looking over his shoulder to keep sight of his friend.]

Don't be slow; go lightly.

[Catching up, then, and reaching out to take Jehan's hand in his.]

I will not be slow, that you do not go alone.

[Glancing down at their hands, then back up at his face to raise a brow.]

You are still quite this over-protective?

[A beat.]

You do realize I reached the age of adulthood rather a long time ago...

[Perhaps a note of humor, to lighten the dour mood.]

[Harrumph'ing a bit, though still smirking a touch.]

Considering your track record, you are lucky I do not fashion a rope of these vines and tie us together, age of adulthood be damned!

You know! It so happens that Michel said the same thing, within our first months here. Little wonder that you all have such cruel thoughts.

[It helped, this banter. To black the creeping feeling, like a veil, that threatened along the edges, just as he felt there was a shadow in the periphery of his sight.]

Come then- you lead. I will hang onto your hand, and pretend I do not feel foolish in it.

Little wonder, when you're so quick to stray as a curious pup! Michel did allude to the fact that he was quite familiar with Marquis de Sade's works, after all...

[Chuckled with a bit of a wink. The headache he'd been sporting the entire day that he'd been grumbling about earlier was beginning to subside into something far more soothing when he squeezed Jehan's hand, so he moved to lace them together more solidly in response.]

Good, onward this way, then!

... Do you really feel so foolish, to be attached to me so? It is better than if I were to carry you upon my shoulders, non? That you may get your head tangled in the trees and certainly look foolish then.

And still, I am compared to only the most infantile of animals! --Surely, you jest?

[But perhaps not, considering his newfound... appreciation for the poorly-named 'romance' novel.

The lacing of fingers he allowed, if only because he knew from Feuilly how contact had helped, and might continue to help with these damnable symptoms of persisting on board this ship.]

I have always been said to have my head in a cloud, at least a tree seems nearer to God's green paths.

A fawn does grow into an elegant stag, but I yet only see the little nubs of horn upon thee~

[Reaching over to prod gently on either side of Jehan's forehead with a light smile.]

Nearer and far harder to bump one's head upon.

EVENT: BIA ▒ STERN

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