A Restless First Night

[aleifr]

WHO: Aleifr and anyone who feels like chatting with the viking at 2:30AM.
WHAT: Some first-night insomnia.
WHERE: The Dorms
WHEN: Late night on June 17th to early morning on the 18th.
WARNINGS: Nothing at first, will update if that changes.



[It’s clear fairly early on that Aleifr’s first night in Dualis wouldn’t be a restful one. He just couldn’t set himself at ease, and it wasn’t just the bombing, though knowing that something so damned small could do so much damage certainly didn’t help.

[He just didn’t like being here.

[He didn’t like the fact that he was a half-dozen floors off the ground, in a building that’d come tumbling down within minutes during one of Fenris’s summer quakes. Or that he was surrounded by similar ones on all sides.

[He didn’t like the unfamiliar city-noise and harsh neon that managed to worm its way in through the window recessed in the far wall. He was used to near silence at night; gently whistling winds carrying the soft crackle of a campfire or the murmurs of a distant conversation, not the thundering rumble of speeding light trains. If a night got that loud on Fenris, it was either feast day revelery, or you needed to be on your feet with an axe in your hand.

[He didn’t like that he was trapped in this bloody city. He didn’t like that he’d been dragged here against his will on someone’s whim. He didn’t like that he had no idea why either. He’d been given some vague answer about curing a plague when he was brought here, but he didn’t know if that was true, or what the hell part he was supposed to play in that design if it was. He fucking hated that there was nothing that he could do about it.

[He didn’t like sleeping alone, either. Wasn’t used to it anymore.

[He’d still made an effort to try, if only so he wouldn’t be sleep deprived while dealing with whatever tomorrow brings. He might have been able to find an hour or two if he was on his own furs, but even the bed worked against him. It was too damned soft, and no matter which way he lay he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was sinking into it.

[Needless to say, sleep didn’t come. All he did was toss and turn for a few hours until he grew sick of it.

[He decided he needed to do something. Walk. Memorize his surroundings, get something to eat, something to drink … Busy himself until sleep started to sound appealing again, really. Anything but lay around in that fucking bed.

[So he’d pulled on his loose-fitting undertunic, slid on his footwraps, and gone to do just that.

[Anyone who happens to be awake can find him. He’s not a hard man to spot. Maybe they catch him as they exit his room. Maybe they find him in the kitchen, digging through the contents of that strange little box that keeps everything cold. If they’re on the roof for some reason, they might even find him up there - staring out across the city, taking in the sight of it and trying to commit landmarks to memory so that he has some rough picture of the place in his head to navigate by.

[He’s awake for a good, long while that night. Plenty of opportunity.]

Comments

[aleifr]

[Aleifr hears someone else enter and looks up over the door of the fridge at the newcomer.

[He's not quiet as alien as some of the people Aleifr has seen since arriving in Dualis, but alien enough to someone who'd never seen a non-human before that morning.]

Evening.

[There's a bit of wariness in his eyes. Not fear, not hate ... but the same wariness towards anything unfamiliar that Fenris breeds into all her children. A justified thing when you come from a place where what you don't know often cuts your thread.]

[yondu]

I thought most of y'all Terrans slept at night.

[He's guessing it's insomnia, and it's just idle conversational dialog as he eases his way into the kitchen. Yondu can see the wariness there. And, honestly, there's no real harm in somebody being scared of you. But there's harm in not engaging in some sort of communication facilitating opening relations no matter how thickly applied the bullshit called upon for it is.]

[He goes to rifle through the cabinets. He finds a cup of something, the sort of something you rehydrate, and after turning it in his hand to find the directions, he starts looking for a kettle or something similar to eat up some water.]

Or are ya from somewhere else?

[aleifr]

Fenris.

[He doesn't bother asking if that means anything to the blue man. He's done it a dozen times today and it's only meant something to one person.]

You?

[Never seen a blue man before.]

[yondu]

Never heard o' that one. Which is odd, 'cause I been around. Maybe it's another name...

[Victory! An electric kettle of a thing. It's probably been there since the days of yore but hell, if he can use it he can use it.]

I'm from Proxima Centauri. You heard o' that one? [He peels off the top of the cup-o-noodles or whatever off space brand it is, waiting for the water to boil.]

[Probably not, if he hasn't seen many blue people, but it's worth the question.]

[aleifr]

[Aleifr simply shakes his head.]

Haven't heard of many places. Least not places off of Fenris.

[He's stopped rooting through the fridge. Instead, he's leaning on the door, watching Yondu prepare ... whatever it is that he's making. He's curious.]

[yondu]

[He can't even rightfully claim Proxima Centauri. He barely remembers it before his parents sold him off. But it's a name and it's a place.]

Yeah, well. People mostly from Terra, here. Otherwise I figure we're all aliens here.

[The kettle takes little time to heat up, just about half a minute, and he puts some water in the cup and covers it back up to let it sit. He picks up a fork and when he plops down in a kitchen chair, it's in a very lazy way. Just sprawled and playing with the fork idly.]

[He's already working out if this particular utensil would be bendable enough to make into a tool in an emergency.]

I don't think this head is plannin' on healin' nothin'. All it wanted to do is make a new city, needed all new people to do that.

[aleifr]

[Aleifr's attention moves from the cup resting on the counter to Yondu, and his eyes narrow.]

You think it means to keep us here?

[It's not a surprising notion, given that he already has very little trust in the Head, but he definitely isn't pleased about it.]

[yondu]

I reckon it wants to. It managed to make itself a whole city worth o' people. Seems like a lot of 'em don't go home.

[There are descendants, of course. But Yondu still thinks that by now if there was a cure, this place would have found it long before a full city got built. If anything, them as replacements is the cure.]

What do you think?

[aleifr]

[Aleifr grunts, leaning his elbow on the fridge door and scratching at his beard while he mulls it over.]

It's a stupid fucking plan if the Head wants to avoid trouble. Guarantees there's always going to be someone pushing back.

[And if Yondu is right and the plan is for his stay here to become permanent, Aleifr's going to be among the people fighting this. He doesn't know how - not yet, at least - but he will.]

[yondu]

Seems like this gilded turd of a city is good at dealing with pushback.

[He opens up his cup, still with that permanent look of unrest, and stirs his noodles with a misplaced aggression.]

Somebody'll do somethin', though, if that turns out to be the case.

[Could be him, depending on how much he cared. He doesn't know what he can return to at the moment.]

[aleifr]

And I'm good in a fight. [Aleifr says bluntly.] Doesn't mean I invite people to swing a fucking axe at my head.

[Inviting conflict for no reason, however sure you are of your strength, is stupid. One mistake is sometimes all that it takes for your thread to be cut.]

[yondu]

Ever fought a planet?

...I fought a planet. Right before comin' here. Turns out it's real hard to win against a planet.

I figure fightin' this thing ain't much different. And like that asshole planet? It got a real high opinion of itself.

[He takes a break of his reminiscing to eat some of his newly hydrated food.]

[aleifr]

[Aleifr arches an eyebrow.]

How the fuck do you fight a planet?

[This sounds like a mead story to him. The sort of tales someone spins when they're off in their cups.]