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

[onemind]

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!))

NAVIGATION • GAME CALENDAR • MISSION: HYRYPIA • FAQ • MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[skaikru]

( that ragged breath is all it takes crumble the last of her defensive resolve. one whimper and the foundation begins to shake, stones cracking away to fall into the canyons between them; coral pink and dusty like the landscape slipping by beneath their feet, though clarke hasn't been paying attention to the skyline for some time. the expansive alien world around them has narrowed in on lexa, and now she stares at her hard, as if to peel back the layers of obstruction between them with the mere force of her gaze. as if to watch the map of exposed nerve endings on her features, as so plainly as she radiates them.

there's a tug in her chest, like each rib is wrapped individually with wire and all seek to pull her off her chair and further into the other woman's personal space; instinct raging to cup lexa's face and kiss her, chasing away hurtful beliefs and memories whatever sights that have been so horribly twisted to lead her to believe that clarke somehow shuffled her off to second place. and it aches, being unable to do so here. in mixed company, in the middle of a mission that demanded composure. a sharp ache, in no way dulled by the familiarity of high stake situations.

what little clarke can allow herself is dragging her arms from their perch on the edge of the table, seeking to blanket her gloved palm across lexa's knuckles where they're nestled in her lap. )

( I don't want you to be in pain, Lexa. Not because of me. ) ( again. amazing, how spanning universes to reconnect could lead them down the same path of lingering pain and bittersweet as they had trodden on own homeworld. ) ( And I respect the differences in what we see and believe, and what being here means for us — for all of us. But you have to know, you have to know, that I would do anything to defend you. Support you, protect you, carry on your legacy.

And if I could have died for you, I would have. )

( this is another way clarke griffin says i love you. )

[adamance]

[For Lexa, it's far more complicated than it being Clarke's fault or Bellamy's fault or even the fault of her own in choosing to take this path. It becomes abundantly clear the moment that Clarke's comfort arrives. Both her words and the grip of her hand over Lexa's are enough to ease the edge of the pain, to offer a temporary salve to soothe the festering wounds that have been in place for a while. To some degree, she recognizes that she's making Clarke responsible for how she feels. And to some degree, she recognizes that it isn't entirely unfair to see the contrast between how Clarke treats Lexa to how she treats Bellamy. But then, Bellamy hasn't been a hard person to puzzle out. Knowing why he does any one thing isn't difficult to consider. He wears his intentions on his sleeves, even when he fools himself into believing otherwise.

There are two separate concepts warring with one another at this moment.

The first is how Lexa feels. Her training as a Commander led her to believe that she had to suppress her emotions, or she would never be able to manage the losses of her people (and of those closest to her). Titus had presented her emotions as a weakness. Attaching to anyone following Costia's death would be a downfall. To some degree, she wants her emotional state to be resolved by something as simple as Clarke's words. She knows Clarke cares. That was never in question. But Clarke can't be the only pillar that stands in the way of the truth of what Lexa's death meant. Anyone can step around that pillar. Lexa has done that every day.

The second is what Lexa sees—what she's observed. Perhaps she's been too trapped in the truth of knowing how deeply that she and Bellamy care for Clarke. But by now, it's impossible to not see how it's reflected back upon Bellamy in a way that it isn't toward her. Again—again—Lexa knows (has known) that Clarke felt deeply for Bellamy, that she'd do anything for Bellamy. She questioned it early on as a means of understanding the tie between them. How Clarke feels for Bellamy is nothing like how she feels for Lexa, and maybe the question would be easier for Lexa to handle if it were a matter of pure jealousy. To some degree, she can't help but feel that Clarke's love for her is a matter of grief, as well, like something that could have never been challenged because it never lasted long enough.

But then, that's where feelings slip in, fighting with her observations, forcing her to try to be rational about things that she can't be rational about. If she could remove herself, she would. And if Titus were there breathing down her neck, she would feel the pressure to do precisely that. He's not here now, and she still feels the same.

So, perhaps:]

( After Costia died, Titus asserted that by having her in the first place, I was presenting a weakness to my enemies. That by having someone to love at all, I was weak. My feelings were nothing more to discard. To throw away. ) [Following these words, there's the flash of a memory, of an argument between her and Titus. The clothes that Lexa wears are the same she died in (the same she arrived in as a host). Titus tries to use Costia's death against her, reminding her that love is a weakness. Lexa forgives him, and the warmth she feels for him is muddled by the knowledge she has now—that even though she believed he was doing his best for her in that moment, she now sees otherwise.

It was the last she spoke to Titus.]

( Without Titus' help, I don't know that I would have survived Costia's death. Ironic, then, that the man who offered me the means to survive the death of my first love would then proceed to try to kill my second, to try to shape me again. )

[The gravity of her words is apparent. Though she can't meet Clarke's gaze, it says a lot that she's even sharing these words. The burden of these revelations has been with her for too long. Murphy told her that she failed to understand why Titus would be driven to hurt Clarke. It stirred up a different realization within her: that Titus had always wanted nothing more than to shape her into the perfect Commander, a perfect pupil.

And seeing Polis burn felt like proof that she had never been much of anything, like lasting proof that her legacy would be nothing more than a memory.]