Not quite a yellow submarine, but... || September 19, 2063

[drakeyboy]

WHO: Drake, Hikaru, and the War Hounds
WHAT: The Hounds and their pet NPCs of the moment take a submarine up from the first of many sealed Avernian Gates
WHERE: Somewhere in the ocean, off the coasts of South America
WHEN: September 19, 2063 (7:00 PM to about 10:00 PM)
SAFE FOR WORK? Other than Drake's potty mouth? Probably.
OTHER NOTES: None!


[This submarine is typical Vice Military Solutions fare - that is, it's definitely more impressive than anything that the World of Light has to offer, but it's pretty average for any Keeper of the Vigil whose used to what Vice Enterprises has to offer with regard to transport.

You're all getting your own rooms to rest up in, and you have free reign of the ship right down to the bridge. You may want to lounge around in the large common area for crew and guests alike: it's got an impressive bar, and the cafeteria kitchen has been opened for your convenience.]


OOC NOTES
+ This post will both be for shenanigans with Drake and Hikaru, and for anything that you guys want to do with each other.
+ Make sure to label your threads accordingly on whether they're meant for just one person, or if they're open to all.

Comments

[bladeweaver]

[Sorry about this, Yulia. He knows you like your personal space, but...

He'll cross that distance between the two of you and give you a nice, warm, solid hug, where his hands end up resting on your shoulders, giving them one or two gentle pats. You're just about the same height, so his face ends up behind your head. He speaks, and maybe you can feel the truth of his words better from there.]

It's okay to be scared. Whatever happens, you don't have to be alone.

[bostova]

[ And this... this is where Yulia gives up holding the tears back and sobs on Taning's shoulder. It was like that time, in Norway, when Joshua had pulled her in and she cried over the Makhai's graves. She just can't take all of these emotions, anymore. It hurt too much, and she's kept it in for so long...

Cherish the moment (or not), Taning. This only happens once in a lifetime. ]

[bladeweaver]

[He will just... stay there with you until the tears stop, stroking your hair gently, comfortingly.

There is nothing else to be said, nothing else to be done. Except this, he supposes. Except to offer the meager comfort of a hug from someone who understands. Who dreads the same thing you do.

Who doesn't want your roles reversed, someday.

Wow, you're crying a lot. Maybe he's going to have to hurt this Marcin guy on general principles.]

[bostova]

[ She's-- she's crying more because Taning chooses to stay and comfort her, instead of leaving her alone. And also partly because she doesn't want to lose hope that there is another way to save Marcin, other than killing him, for good.

It'll be a while before she stops, before she remembers that it's Taning she's crying on, and then she'll push herself away, wiping at her tears and forcing herself to calm down with a muttered apology. ]

[bladeweaver]

[Have a smile and a sad little shake of his head.]

I don't accept your apology, because you're only apologizing because you cried on me. [A ghost of a smirk, at that.] I can't tell you everything will be okay or some other trite bullshit, but for what it's worth, if there's a way, we'll find it. I know we will.

[He conjures a cup of tea done the Russian way (very black, very strong, quite sweet) on a saucer for you. For some reason he pegs you for a sweet tooth. Anyway, if he's wrong, he's a Matter mage, there's an easy fix.]

Here. I think I read somewhere that Russians actually drink more tea than vodka. Let's break tradition a bit.

[bostova]

[ The sound she makes is half-sob, half-laugh. She shakes her head, moves to push the cup and saucer away, but takes it anyway. ]

You stereotype me, [ she says, sniffing. ] I prefer coffee. [ She says it as she brings the cup to her lips, taking a whiff of the calming tea, then takes a sip. ]