event } that was easy

[seeingyou]

WHO: All y’all who feel like playin’.
WHAT: MARKER TAG
WHERE: On Navi.
WHEN: Jan. 17-31
WARNINGS: Use ‘em in your threads if needed! And if you end up getting a marker punched through your skull, please report it on the death page.

Something weird is afoot.

Everywhere you look, you’ll find piles of markers, all shapes and sizes and colors. And without explanation, you may find yourself overcome with a deeply competitive impulse to win. Win what? Why, a classic game of marker tag, of course. Why is this happening? Who cares! If affected, the only thing you’ll care about is marking your target.

This "game" will be played out in one-hour increments. For that hour, one person will be the target, and the rest of the ship's affected passengers will have an innate sense of who their target is. Anyone not "it" will chase the target character with the aim of placing a mark on them. Once a target has been marked by another character, the impulse to chase will fade, until the next target is selected at the start of the next hour. Target characters will remain targets until the end of their hour or until they have been marked by all participating characters. After that hour, the game starts all over again with a new target.

Sure hope those marks wash off in the shower!

Comments

[unnecessaryflourishes]

[At first, the various writing implements strewn about the ship aren't anything more than annoying, as far as Emet-Selch is concerned. And that largely because it's not something that has happened prior. Which is perhaps not a surprise - life on the ship does have a way of being unusual at best - but the fact that Navi is allowing the clutter suggests that there's more to it than a simple moment of untidiness.

It's only later on, when he finds himself inexplicably possessed of an urge to chase, to hunt, that he picks one up, almost without thinking about it. He wonders, too, if this is how Zenos feels before managing to shake the thought off. Regardless of whether it is or isn't there's no way for him to tell, and it's certainly not the first time that he's had to deal with something urging him onwards since his arrival.

(It is not, he thinks, time for who they're mentally linked to to be shuffled. But at the same time it's easier to see the urge through than suffer the annoyance of ignoring it, and so he lets it take him where it will.)

It's only when he finds himself crossing paths with someone that he's more than familiar with that he pauses, ignoring the urge to 'mark' his target for a moment.]

Ah. Gaius.

[He doesn't ask if the man has only recently arrived. He doesn't need to - if Gaius had been present on the ship prior, he would have known. Although it's clear even from what he can already see that Gaius' life has taken a somewhat different trajectory than what he might have suspected, shortly before his "death" as Solus.]

[unnecessaryflourishes]

[The similarities to Garlean airships hadn't escaped Emet-Selch's notice either, when he'd first arrived.  Now, of course, the ship is far more its own entity in his mind, but he certainly doesn't begrudge Gaius that moment of familiarity either.  Nor, for that matter, the desire to explore all there is to see of the ship.

All the same, he can't deny that there's a moment of satisfaction in seeing Gaius standing to attention at the sound of his almost without thinking about it. Gaius' mere presence on the ship will no doubt pose its fair share of complications - not least of all in regards to the matter of his true identity - but at least there is yet that instinctive reaction. Something he can, for the moment, lean on in the event it becomes absolutely necessary.

The uncertainty in Gaius' voice, and the way the silence stretches out once the man does finally turn around, on the other hand is... not concerning, perhaps, but a potential wrinkle all the same. They are, after all, both aware that he - that Solus - had died an old man. Something that he is very much not currently.

(With good reason, but he hasn't missed the masks hanging at Gaius' belt. Ones that very much suggest caution is the better course - Heirsbane may be nowhere in evidence, but he'd be a fool to think Gaius any less dangerous for it.)]

You seem surprised.

[Surprised to see him, surprised that he appears as young as he does... both are reasonable enough, and he deliberately makes no effort to clarify which he means. With any luck which way Gaius chooses to answer - or even if he does - will offer some insight into what to expect from the rest of the conversation.]

But it's no dream, to the best of my ability to tell.

[As for the question of whether or not Gaius is dead... that is one that is harder to answer, or at least, harder to answer without explain why he is able to sense the Lifestream.

Instead, he simply lets Gaius take that step back. Doesn't argue against it, though the expression on his face is one of concern. (More so for the fact that it may well make things more difficult than he'd initially than any misgivings over what Gaius might suspect of him, but that's nothing that Gaius needs to know and either way the emotion does still ring true.)]

And I would certainly like to hope you aren't dead.

[He knows - has always known - that death will come for Gaius one day. And Gaius is certainly not getting any younger, either. But neither has he become any less fond, for having largely set Solus aside.]

[unnecessaryflourishes]

[That Gaius should be having difficulty schooling his expression is... not unsurprising, truth be told. There is, after all, ample reason for him to be conflicted. Reason that Emet is certainly not going to address - or not until he has no other recourse - but reason nonetheless. Which is not to say that Emet doesn't hope that there is still a chance the conversation can resolve without turning to some manner of violence, but ... he has his doubts. Especially with the edge that's crept into Gaius' voice.

It would be easy, too, to answer that in kind. To let his own voice slide into sharper tones. But he does not. Not yet; not when he can still (with luck) wring some use out of his current appearance.

Instead, he settles for simply offering a side-long look, as if he thinks it isn't much of a surprise that he should be as he is. (As is indeed the case, for all that it has been a more deliberate choice this time.)]

For me to be...?

[He knows that he has died (has seemed to die). Knows too that Gaius almost certainly knows, given the masks hanging at his belt, and that the man bears injuries he cannot entirely account for. But if not admitting to that can earn him some small amount of breathing space, some time to find the way to slide through the pitfalls he can still sense looming, then so be it.

Besides, the question at least ought to give him some insight into Gaius current state of mind.

The actual question that follows is a little more difficult. Not least of all because he knows that it is meant to address him, both in appearance and the fact that he is present. Both of which are questions that he cannot - does not want to - answer, if only for the fact that neither can be easily done without admitting to his true nature. Instead, he sidesteps. Answers a version of the question that is near enough to Gaius' meaning, as if he has no clue about his own (apparent) future.]

Did Navi not provide an explanation of this ship? I had been led to believe such things were at least reasonably accessible to new arrivals.

[forgarlemald]

[No, that's not the answer that he wanted. That's not the question he asked, and though that lingering touch of concern at Gaius' reaction is telling as to why...it touches something, raw and brittle, and he knows better than to let his emotions get the better of him, but-]

Your Navi conveniently failed to explain the fact that we would find the dead walking the ship, as well.

[But he's been finding that increasingly harder, these last months.]

[He doesn't mean to lose composure. Can't remember a time he's ever taken such a tone with the man before him, and the shame of it heats his face, washing across the fear and frustration that's plagued him since he woke on this damned ship. It would be better if this were a dream, he thinks, because at least then...]

[At least then, he wouldn't have to deal with the guilt. With the thread of shame, still eating at the forefront of his mind as he grits his teeth and lowers his head, to take whatever retribution was to follow the outburst. Because even now, it's easy enough to see that his emperor has little idea of what he's talking about, if any.]

[And Gaius can't decide if that's a blessing, or something else entirely.]

Please- [He pauses. Takes a breath, tries again, to keep his voice steady.] Forgive me, I... I don't yet fully understand everything that is going on.

[unnecessaryflourishes]

[It's not, and Emet knows it. But neither can he say he feels much remorse. He did die, and though he had hardly been privy to the depths of Gaius' feelings in the wake of that death, he has had first-hand experience with Navi's ability to bring people in that might have otherwise been assumed dead.

(Experience that he cannot acknowledge, without risking what little foothold he has already managed. But experience nonetheless.)]

Perhaps it hadn't occurred to them that it might be necessary?

[After all, he has seen no sign that Navi has any direct control over who happens to find themselves onboard. Although at this rate, he's half expecting to see someone from Allag next, given how many figures from his long history have shown up thus far - they may only number two, but compared to the number of people onboard at all it's still a fairly significant proportion.

He lets his voice slide a little sharper, in answer. Not enough to betoken anger, at least, but enough to at least indicate that he is not unaffected by the conversation.

And he could lash out, in retribution. Take Gaius to heel for his tone, for losing composure. Perhaps even should, and he makes absolutely no attempt to hide the displeasure that crosses his face. That Gaius has done so is understandable. But though it is a role that he has not donned in some time, he knows that Solus would have, and the words to do so are already on his lips when Gaius begs his forgiveness, and he transmutes the words instead to an airy wave.]

Granted.

[That, at least, he can manage and if nothing else, perhaps Gaius will take it as a boon. Or as him not wanting to dwell too much on the implications that Gaius has seen him die. (Which is not entirely inaccurate. Say rather that he would prefer to not dwell on the moments that had preceded his mortal demise.)]

Although I can hardly claim to have all the details myself. Enough to know why we are said to be here, yes. But not the full details of the methods by which we are plucked from our worlds.

[forgarlemald]

[The man's words, his mannerisms. That familiar, imperial tone. It's hard for that lingering doubt to keep its foothold, when everything about the man before him is Solus zos Galvus, in every way Gaius remembers him to be.]

[Which means that forgiveness is most certainly a boon, after the sudden sharpness that had overtaken the other man's tone. But it's a sharpness that Gaius accepts nonetheless, without complaint or further argument; he'd do the same himself, after all, had done the same, when his own men seemingly crossed the line with him. So when he sees that almost flippant wave of Solus' hand out in his peripheral...]

[He doesn't quite relax, no. The situation is still difficult to digest, still feels too much. But there's gratitude in his eyes when he finally lifts his head, beneath his guarded expression.]

You sound as though you still have far more details than I do.

[It still feels like a dream. Is still disconcerting to look up to that face, and the feeling is only made worse when he's standing there as he is, far from the image of the respected legatus he'd once been. And that Solus doesn't appear interested in questioning that - in questioning the news of his own death, for reasons Gaius can understandably guess - leaves him...surprisingly more grateful, and gives him the scant moments needed to collect himself (to try to collect himself) before he speaks again, with only slight hesitation.]

I must admit, I have to wonder how much truth there is, now, to our arrival being accidental. It seems difficult to believe they would have abducted an emperor without meaning to.

[Although that begs the question... There's a pause, as Gaius considers his next words, the cautious frown on his face taking a turn into something...unreadable.]

...has anyone else arrived? Of our people?