onemind: (Default)
THE N E S T ([personal profile] onemind) wrote in [community profile] station722017-11-01 10:31 pm

[mission: hyrypia] hey kid wanna see a dead body

CHARACTERS: EVERYONE
WHERE: The Second Flight
WHEN: DAY :021 - DAY :022
SUMMARY: Leaving the Graze and flying over the Finger Maze. [insert Psycho music cue here]
WARNINGS: Corpses. Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!






HYRYPIA - THE SECOND FLIGHT
DAY :021

I. ALLLL ABOARD

THE SOUND OF HORNS has become familiar in your time on Hyrypia, but the low drone seems out of place here in the great open space of the main hall of the Second’s Flight. The space here is fantastically and beautifully ornate, the pale polished wood floors and rich dark paneling strangely reminiscent of sand and stone, loamy earth and some rich, dense forest not native to the arid lands of this planet. The space seems to dare the sky to claim it, acting out some daring violation of delivering the earth into the heavens. The twin heads of House Tyrisson are equally lavish both in their appearance and welcome. Two brothers, draped in elaborate pastel fabrics and glinting with enough metal accents to put the ornate robes of Seconds to shame, they trade a short speech back and forth between them:

"Once, our ancestors would have travelled the depths and turns of the Finger Maze in an effort to follow the footsteps of the First. Luckily, we don't live in such dangerous times; the gifts of the First and this planet we call home have allowed us to grow up out of our desperation. Consider this comfort our gift to you and enjoy your time on the Second Flight."

A band strikes up the moment the Tyrisson twins take their seats and you are left to your own devices. So much for living simply.

II. A MURDER MOST FOUL

A SCREAM PIERCES THE SILENCE of the saunas. The low sound of gently flowing water and the soft piped music seems to fade to nothing in the wake of the raw, terrified noise. Unsurprisingly, it draws immediate attention as a horrified Descendant practically falls into the arms of the servant that comes to his aid. The outburst is easily forgiven as word travels like lightning through the ship.

There has been a murder - or rather, two murders. Two bodies, damp with humidity and beginning to give of a distinctly unpleasant smell, have been found in one of the hot bath grottos. The mineral water they've been soaking in has reverted from a milky white to a terrible, blood rust brown.

And while it's unlikely that any Carbauschians were sharing the pool with them (robes make for unpleasant waders), the dryer albeit stiflingly hot areas of the conjoined saunas are such a communal meeting places that it wouldn't be out of the realm of imagination that one or two Hosts might be nearby… Regardless, news travels quickly and the chilly atmosphere that descends over the Second Flight is palpable. A horrific hunting accident is one thing, but murder? That's something else altogether.


HYRYPIA - THE SECOND FLIGHT
DAY :022

III. A SORDID AFFAIR

TO SAY that the atmosphere is somewhat tense is an understatement. It seems that everyone has something to say about the murders- but these things are said tersely, in whispers under the breath, with darting eyes and suspicious glances, and security- once hidden, secret- is now easily visible. They can be found at the entrance of each of the broad areas, patrolling down the paths that run alongside the outer walls of the Envoy’s cabins- never intruding, but ever present. Still, there seems to be an insistence that it will be dealt with by a member of the Tyrisson protectorate guard - Detective Savela, a hard-nosed, serious woman who seems not to want any assistance - and that the guests should continue to enjoy themselves. The bands still play, the games are ever present. Of course, those that are enterprising may wish to try poking around, instead.

IV. THE SHOW MUST GO ON

MURDER SCHMURDER-- In what's very clearly an effort to retain some sense of normalcy, an elaborate meal is served late on Day :022. The dishes are so complex that might as well be show pieces of their own, the music has an air of desperation, and the display of technomancy from a pair of Seconds is so delicate and ornate - centering almost entirely on a cloud of small metal coins that shifts shape constantly to illustrate scenes from the famous epic poem The Arion throughout the course of the dinner - that under any other circumstances it might be a singularly memorable moment.

Unfortunately, the palpable sense of suspicion between the envoy factions persists and the temper of the room is anything but celebratory. Late in the evening when most people have retired from the stifling atmosphere, a scuffle breaks out between some Meradan bodyguards and a clutch of Carpathan servants.


HYRYPIA - THE SECOND’S FLIGHT
DAY :023

V. A FAREWELL TO ARMS

THE ENGINES ever-present hum ticking down an octave is the first sign that the Flight has almost reached its destination. By the time the servants are politely knocking on the entrances of the berthings, the new dawn reveals that the cliffs and the winding passages of the Finger Maze have finally fallen behind the ship. The land here consists of rocky, relatively bare hills and is accented only with occasional short, sparse woody tree and straggly clumps of red grass. From somewhere in the distance, salt touches the wind. The Second Flight lands, setting gently down into the trough between two hills. Its now familiar gangplank extends, ready to send the Pilgrims again out onto the road.





((OOC Notes: This log covers days :021 and :022 on the Second Flight. A log will be posted for the walk on DAY :023 and the arrival at the Red Coast. Please be sure to review the MISSION: HYRYPIA ooc information to find setting information for the Second Flight. If you have any questions, please hit up either the mission's question thread, the FAQ or MOD CONTACT pages!))




wrackful: (495)

[personal profile] wrackful 2017-11-16 12:59 am (UTC)(link)
[He couldn't have expected Bellamy's attitude to be any different. It could be worse, much worse, and Murphy's memories of what Bellamy's anger can be like are still crystal clear. A small part of him tugs with the urge to beat an immediate retreat. But it wasn't like he'd done that then. He isn't going to back off now.]

No.

[Plain, honest. He hadn't really had any distinct thought on what he'd come over for, except that the distance was his making, and it felt wrong.

It resolves itself now, though. Looking at Bellamy steadily, not flinching away.]


I came to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did.
Edited 2017-11-16 01:34 (UTC)
deployed: (026.)

[personal profile] deployed 2017-11-17 05:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ Whatever Bellamy had been expecting, it wasn't an apology. He and Murphy had never been one for outright apologies like this. Everything between them had been unspoken, underscored by decisive action on both their parts. But Murphy was probably right to take this approach. It'd be another few days before they were in a position for Murphy to potentially save his life, and Bellamy didn't like what it cost Murphy to do that here. ]

No. You shouldn't have.

[ Bellamy's voice is steady. ]

And I shouldn't have shoved you.

[ Even if in the grand scheme of things a shove was the last of Bellamy's sins where Murphy was concerned. But after saying it, he's a little at a loss. Where do they go from here? The idea of sitting and letting the stilted apologies hang between them is intolerable. Between them the connection widens as Bellamy's mind cracks open, anger fading enough to allow curiosity to curl through. ]
Edited 2017-11-17 06:02 (UTC)
wrackful: (417)

[personal profile] wrackful 2017-11-19 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
[The cold Seviilia had wrapped his mind in after the fight has thawed down now, only thin traces remaining. It had been enough to give him the space to gather everything back in, restore his walls, wait the storm out until it settled slow and quiet inside him again. But signs of the shattering remain. Cracks, raw edges, an all-over ache like a bruise. The line between them hadn't broken, but Bellamy letting it ease open again is almost too much for a moment. Has Murphy drawing a shaky breath, hitching in his chest as the ache peaks and then eases.

Then his mouth presses down at the corners, self-awareness laced casually bitter.]


Pretty sure I was asking for it.

[Deliberately, the anger digging in teeth, pushing at Bellamy until he pushed back. It wouldn't be the first time, but Murphy still found himself here again. He looks away.]

It isn't true anyway, you know. [Maybe the apology on its own should be enough. But it doesn't feel like it, not for the pain that had burst out of Bellamy from Murphy's words, like he'd tapped more directly into a line than he could've known to aim for. A fear that was already there.] She might not have you, but Octavia's not on her own.
Edited 2017-11-19 05:28 (UTC)
deployed: (Default)

[personal profile] deployed 2017-11-19 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Anger is close at hand now. It's a cloud cover for the more vulnerable reaction that stirs the moment Murphy alludes to Octavia. His jaw sets, head shaking. Even hearing her name aloud feels like having a fresh scab ripped off a barely-healed wound. Of the many things Lakshmi had offered him, it was a refuge from any knowledge of his world. She knew what Bellamy had told her and there hadn't been any chance of her reminding him of his fears of what was happening at home. He takes a deep breath in through his nose before he replies. ]

Yeah, she is.

[ Or she wanted to be. Bellamy couldn't know what was happening after the battle. He couldn't know if Octavia had stayed or if she would go off on her own again, desperate to get away from him. ]

I don't need you to do this, Murphy.

[ Lie to him. Murphy couldn't know what happened. He doesn't know what Octavia blames him for (what Bellamy blames himself for) or how unyielding she had been in telling him about it. You're dead to me comes forth like an echo, distorted, and Bellamy shakes it away. ]

I want to get through this first. We can worry about going home when we aren't about to die on this planet. Alright?
wrackful: (290)

[personal profile] wrackful 2017-11-20 12:02 am (UTC)(link)
[He's treading on bad ground. He doesn't even need the line between their minds to know that. He knows Bellamy well enough to read it on his face, his tone, the signs of his anger biting at the edges. Backing away would be easier, safer, and it's absolutely his first instinct. But he already knows nothing would feel done. He'd never apologised to Bellamy before because he'd never needed to, actions had done it unspoken for them, but now he has, he knows he can't let it fall as just words.]

Right. Because you're not actually thinking about it all the time.

[Somewhere deep down, underneath everything present and immediate. Murphy knows because he's the same. Emori never fades from the back of his mind.]

Abby and Kane are there, Bellamy. Indra. Some [he waves a hand, loose, irreverent of the weirdness that is thinking about multiple universes.] other version of Clarke. They aren't just going to forget about her because you're not there.

[A beat.]

Besides, from what I saw, she's gotten pretty good at looking after herself.

[Impressively so, practically full grounder. It made his comments about her being a grounder pounder look even more stupid than time and retrospective hypocrisy already had.]
deployed: (048.)

[personal profile] deployed 2017-11-20 04:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Logically, Murphy isn't wrong. There were other people who loved Octavia. They loved her regardless of Bellamy's sins or presence. They'd take care of her, if she'd let them. And if she didn't, Octavia would survive. Maybe in time the anger and grief in her would burn out and she would find peace. Bellamy couldn't know. He couldn't even know whether or not she survived the battle he'd been plucked from.

But it wasn't just about whether or not she survived. If Lexa was right, and all their people were dead and buried by the time they returned, Bellamy would never reconcile with her. His sister would go to her grave having disowned him, and it wouldn't matter how hard Bellamy had fought to get back to her. It would all be for nothing. ]


I know. She's changed.

[ And Bellamy doesn't sound entirely enthusiastic about that. ]

I can't give up on her. I can't.

[ That's as honest as Bellamy can possibly be without admitting that he can't resign himself to dying in some distant universe without ever reconciling with his sister. ]
wrackful: (417)

[personal profile] wrackful 2017-11-21 12:01 am (UTC)(link)
[It feels like an echo of his own words mirrored back at him. I can't, his own broken admission that he couldn't keep believing he'd see Emori again. He didn't have the strength to bear the pain of that hope, but Bellamy's the opposite. It's something that he can see, crystal clear in this moment. Bellamy needs to keep believing, or all his strength would fail.]

You don't have to.

[There's an urge to make some physical contact, the way Bellamy usually reaches for him, these days. But the distance between them still feels palpable; Bellamy's position propped up against the headboard near defensive, that Murphy shouldn't encroach further into his space without risking a fight. So he just takes a breath. Pushes on.]

Look, we've all changed. [Octavia maybe the most, but he'd seen enough of the others at Polis to know the months on the ground had impacted all of them. Some things, though, they'd still been almost exactly the same.] But you and Clarke have always found some way out of every crappy situation. Just because I can't figure out how doesn't mean you're not going to do it again.

[Maybe the opposite, like there was some karmic duty imposed on both of them to crush Murphy's pessimistic expectations whenever possible. He shrugs, mouth pushing down at the corners.]

And I'm the future teller saying this.
deployed: (284)

[personal profile] deployed 2017-11-21 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
[ There's a momentary flicker of his hand over Clarke's in Mount Weather supplanted by Clarke's bloody palms upturned in Bellamy's hands after the autopsy. Though the conversation is unintelligible, the impression comes across clearly: maybe that was the only way out of this mission, and maybe it would be the only way out of the next one. What were they meant to do with this enemy? Cathaway had been afraid of it enough to come to share that concern with Murphy. Would the option eventually come down to the kind of scorched earth solution that Clarke had feared?

Bellamy already knew he would choose it, if he had to. He'd already done so once. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, unconsciously reacting to the undercurrent of thoughts in Murphy's head. ]


Maybe you'll be the one to walk us out of here.

[ Unlikely, if Murphy's symbiote hadn't already done so. ]

You can take that bed, [ Bellamy tells him gruffly. ] No one's using it.

[ And Murphy could also tell him no. But Bellamy hasn't been sleeping any better on his own than Murphy has. ]
wrackful: (346)

[personal profile] wrackful 2017-11-22 12:19 am (UTC)(link)
[A glance at the bed, back at Bellamy, and he can't help some small sense of surprise, relief curling quietly in its wake. That Bellamy seems to be listening, responding, easing into something less like a waiting anger, it all still sits outside of what Murphy knows himself as capable of. It's an uncertainty that probably shows as he meets Bellamy's eyes, as if unsure there won't be a change, that he'd actually made this worse, rather than better. But then he just nods, and strips off his headwrap and scarves to drop on the bed.]

As long as I don't have to hold any human organs doing it.

[Turning to head over the other side of the room, grab his pack from where he'd stowed it. His hands on - literally - experience of the last save the world effort hadn't left him with the most pleasant taste for the whole thing. But if it was his bug that led them, eventually, to the door out of this whole mess, it wasn't like he'd say no.]